A Reminiscence of Cliches

1979 (but filed under 1982)
Lakeland

I am not sure [whether] I have coined an original collective noun in such a title. There is something about the collective noun which increases my delight with language:

an exultation of larks
a covey of quail
a pride of lions
a flight of eagles
a herd of cattle
a fleet of ships

A “reminiscence of cliches” has occurred to me during past few months when I have reflected from time to time that 1979 is the 50th anniversary of my graduation from high school.

When I was a high school student, one of the weekly routine events was the Monday morning assembly. All students of the upper three classes would walk wearily into the auditorium for 55 minutes of unsurprise. I use “unsurprise” because almost always the assembly program consisted of the vice-principal introducing a local or visiting clergyman who would consume most of the period exhorting us. Sometimes, but not always, the speech would be preceded by a musical selection rendered (I use the word advisedly) by our less-than-superior high school orchestra. I said we would wearily walk because we could count on those preachers to tell us to be good and have purpose. The striking and authentic differences of religious belief were usually smoothed over with a few superficial sentences. Then the speaker, with resonant voice and dramatic gestures, would tell us a story which, almost always, the previous week’s speaker had told. Sometimes we hadn’t heard the same story for two weeks. Politely, but painfully, we would listen to the morals and manners of the stone-masons and the cathedral, the boys and the hermit, and the sailors and the Amazon.

In order that you may share something of the ennui we felt so many years ago, let me regale you with three of these tales (although I have another reason than just to decorate our service with old chestnuts).

During the Middle Ages, when many European communities devoted centuries of labor to building the great Gothic cathedrals, a clerk approached three stone-masons separately, asking each the same question, “What are you doing here?”

The first stone mason answered, “I work from dawn to dusk so that I may buy bread to keep alive, and wine to help me forget how miserable life is.”

The second responded, “I work to provide my wife and children food to eat and a hut to live in.”

The third stone mason asserted, “I am building a cathedral.”

Then the speaker would elaborate considerably, each supplying different trimmings on the theme that life can be good, better, or best. It is good to be alone, even if one’s goals are but food and drink. It is better to think of others – one’s family and its needs. It is best when one not only has these values, but also a great cause for which to work – a cathedral to be built, a purpose beyond self and family.

That story was re-treaded, again, and again, and again.

In a mountain cave that overlooked a village on a plain lived an aged hermit, who was reputed to be the wisest of men. The villagers believed that the hermit could always give the right answer to any question.

A group of boys, knowing the reputation of the hermit, determined to ask a question to which the hermit would not be able to give the right answer. So they conspired among themselves: “We will catch a tiny bird. One of us will hold it cupped in his hands and concealed from view. Then we will ask the hermit, “tell us, wise man, whether what is in his hands is alive or dead?” The boys figured that if the hermit said “it is dead,” the boy would open his hands and the bird would fly away. If the hermit answered, “it is alive,” quickly the hands would squeeze, crushing the life from the bird, thus showing the hermit that his answer was wrong, that there was not life, but death.

So they caught a little bird and climbed the mountain. When the hermit greeted them, they pointed to the little boy with the bird concealed in his cupped hands and chorused, “Tell us, o seer, is it living or dead?” The wise hermit looked at their clever smiles and anticipatory glee; then after a long pause said to the boy who held the bird, “the answer is in your hands.”

Not only was this a well-worn story, trotted out in assemblies and young people’s meetings, but also years later when I arrived at theological school and went to chapel for preaching class, the student preaching concluded with the story of the boys, the bird, and the hermit.

And, God help me, I have used the story, although I make a tentative promise never to do so again.

Then there is that chestnut about the Amazon River, the mouth of which is so vast that it cannot be distinguished from the ocean.

A group of sailors whose ship had gone down in a storm had for many days been drifting in a life boat. Because drinking water had long since been consumed, the weakened survivors would soon die from thirst.

Then a vessel was sighted. Shirts were waived on the end of oars; they were seen and the vessel changed course to reach the lifeboat.

As soon as they were in earshot, the thirsty sailors shouted “help, help, we die from thirst!” And the captain shouted, “put down your buckets where you are.” They did and were wonderfully surprised to find the water fresh and sweet, for this was not the salt ocean, but the Amazon River. They had no need to suffer if they had just put down their buckets where they were.

This story was usually the prelude to the advice that we students did not need to travel thousands of miles to find new worlds to conquer, but could find rewards and satisfactions right where we were in our city, our school, our street.

I have other reminiscences of cliches – aged chestnuts which have a mellow patina - “The drunken tourist in the monastery,” or “the carpenter who fooled his boss.” But enough is enough. Too many chestnuts create digestion problems.

The illustration, captivating or corny, to make moral or theological points, is as old as the first preacher and predictably present in every sermon. Without illustration, poem, parable, anecdote, few speakers would have the resources to chew away at a topic for more than 10 minutes and keep their audience at all.

I’ll illustrate my point about illustrations with an illustration. One of the stories that circulates about the reputation of NYC (“Fun City”) is that a newcomer was advised that if he should happen to be in trouble he should yell “fire,” not “help.” A call for help could be ignored, but people flock to a fire in Fun City. Sometimes sermons too are better when making points by [misdirection].

Now this is not a short course in homiletics. If it were, you could say, “You need it, preacher – we don’t.”

But looking back, my “reminiscence of cliches,” stories stale and hackneyed, I became aware that these were all I recalled about those speeches. The stories remained; the abstract contents forgotten.

These old chestnuts had something in common which has, for me, increased in meaning through all these years. Cathedral builders and shipwrecked sailors, boys and hermit, were stories or parables centered in the human condition. Work, bread, survival, meaning, and responsibility – what can I believe about life? Why must I pursue clues to the meaning of existence? Because I am human, what must I do?

I have a clipping in my Halloween file. Answering the doorbell, the owner was greeted “trick or treat” by a little girl, beautifully costumed, but unmasked. As the child opened her paper sack to stow away the treat, her mask was seen in the bag. “Why don’t you wear it?” In a tiny voice, hardly bigger than she and with a trace of whimper, the tot confided, “I’m scared of it.”

Is that a parable of the human condition? We’re frightened by the masks we wear.

To me, there has always been zest in Unitarian Universalist religion – in the exhilaration which comes when one discards old belief patterns which usually were resented as well as disbelieved. But one of the burdens of a religion of search is that when as one learns more about the human condition, one becomes aware of its fantastic inconsistencies. Is it not amazing, if not appalling, that two types of large expenditures cause little controversy – the billions spent to make more efficient and deadlier weapons and the millions for medical research? Is there not a huge inconsistency? Is it because we are too much like the first two stone masons? Is it because we fail to put down our buckets where we are? Is it because we fail to be aware that the power of life and death is in our hands?

I don’t know how boring I have been with this reminiscence of cliches. But worn cliches or fresh creation, both the look backward and the forward vision provide past evidence and future prediction that none of us fully lives unless, frequently enough, he/she confronts honestly the nature of self, “Who am I?” and the nature of obligation within the human enterprise, “What must I do?” Cliches become stale, but without such identity and engagement, life itself will be stale and worn rather than fresh, energetic, and laced with hope.

Addendum

[Editor’s note: the following was to be inserted immediately prior to last paragraph, but it does seem to be a distinct line of thought]

Long ago, I clipped a poem by Victor Howe (Christian Science Monitor), “Lesson in Aerodynamics”:

“Wedging their way by wing, they are compelled
To learn the element they navigate,
To study air until they know it cold,
To gauge its power to the feather-weight.

“The air that both resists and sustains,
Gives discipline, demands economy,
Ensures they sign the sky with elegance
Form follows function as the wild geese fly.”

I believe the form of one’s religion may follow the way one functions in this human condition which is ours, and which we share, as time, relentless measure of our living, ticks its eventually conclusive rhythm.

Recognizing that every age is an age of transition, I believe the years approaching will register even more sweeping changes, changes not far ahead.

I was struck with a sense of identity when re-reading the words of Marius in Victor Hugo’s LES MISERABLES: “To be between religions, one which you have not yet abandoned, and another which you have not yet adopted, is insupportable, and twilight is pleasant only to bat-like souls.”

Similarly, we may feel unrest, uncertainty, anxiety, and consequently, an over-eagerness to settle for comfort rather than continue the search for an adequate religion of one’s own. But if there is one certainty I cherish, it is that the search for an adequate personal religion is more necessary than ever, for we need confidence in principles to behave with courage and wisdom in this difficult 1979 and perhaps a more perilous 1980. Think of the insight of the poet (“Lesson in Aerodynamics”) who recognized that air both resists and sustains. So our human condition with its fears and hopes, its joy and grief, its mystery and assurances – all these are the resistances and sustenances for the transition of religious belief or ethical action from that which was and is, to that which should be. It is the human condition which resists and sustains.

Superman. Superstar. The Yearning For A Savior

Undated (Probably 1979)
Lakeland
Naples

Superman. Superstar. The Yearning For A Savior

As the Christian Easter season approaches, Christians will be reminded with song, sermon, scripture, pageant, and ancient rituals that humankind cannot save itself. Because God assumed the human form of Jesus, the believer is assured that Jesus, who is God, paid the penalty of Adam’s original sin, which all human creatures inherited and carry the inherited trait. Then, because of Jesus’ resurrection, there was triumph over the grave. According to Christian theology, these miracles are impossible for humans to accomplish. A supernatural savior was needed. Jesus is a superstar savior.

Do men and women need a supernatural savior? Is our human condition so corrupt that we cannot save ourselves? Not only would millions of Christian believers assure us that we do [need a savior], but Hollywood seems to be pushing the same message in bizarre forms.

A few weeks ago I saw the movie, Superman. Supposedly one of the two or three most expensive movies ever made, there are spectacular photographic effects, the story is episodic and choppy, the ending is a sure lead-in to a sequel, which will probably be titled Superman II – but without too much stretching, that sequel might be called “Jesus Christ Comes Again” or “The Second Coming of Christ.”

Viewing the movie, I was fascinated by the use of Christian salvation concepts only slightly disguised. (Quotes come from Sojourners, March 1979). In the beginning, the planet Krypton is nearing its end. Superman is a baby and his parents wrap him in swaddling clothes of red, white, and blue. His father Jar-El played by Marlon Brando is a distinguished [-looking] enough to look like a deity (El is one of the Hebrew words for God). [He] sends Superman to Earth in an amazing capsule (cradle) [CJW note: star-shaped manger] with the words, “all that I have, I bequeath to you, my son. You’ll carry me inside you all your life. You will see my life through yours and yours through mine. The son becomes the father, and the father, the son. [CJW note: not a bad paraphrase of the Council of Nicea]

Superman arrives on Earth, [and] is found and raised by a farm family. His super-powers unknown, [CJW note: except to his earthly father and mother] except on a couple occasions when he outraces a railroad train and kicks a football out of sight.

About the age of 18 he goes through experiences which combines a likeness to Jesus in the temple, the baptismal experience and the sojourn in the wilderness. He spends 12 years of study in a magic ice temple and then at the age of 30 [CJW note: corresponds to silent years of Jesus], his father Jar-El, who miraculously materializes, prepares his son for his mission on earth, saying “they only need the light to show them the way. For this reason, I have sent you, my only son.”

From there on, Superman becomes the comic-book character winning over despicable, powerful villains and thieves, Superman says he has come to earth to fight for truth, justice, and the American way. [CJW note: neat combination of Jewish prophecy and the American dream]

At the end of the picture, Superman changes the course of history. The Christian believer would testify that Jesus changed the course of history saving humanity from the hell from which [it] could not save itself. Superman raises Lois Lane from the dead by reversing time, thus enabling him to resurrect her from the dead, even as Jesus raised Lazarus and the daughter of Jairus from the dead, according to the Christian gospels.

And although Superman seems romantically attracted to Lois Lane, and she to him, he seems to lead a celibate life. This is his choice, not hers. Again, seemingly a pointed parallel with the life of Jesus.

Is Superman touching on a need that most people have for a Savior who has powers beyond the powers of this world? Do we yearn for a savior? There seem to be other examples in the world of entertainment – the T.V., the comics, as well as in the movies.

For example, the Bionic Woman, the 6 Million Dollar Man, the Hulk, the Phantom, all save people from themselves by powers not given to us ordinary humans. All these seem to resonate with ancient and continuing hungers within us that long for miracles to solve problems and heal ills which we cannot do for ourselves.

Much of religious lore, myth, ritual in many cultures reflect this: the location for miracles at Lourdes and St. Anne Beaupre, the powers of voodoo possessed by African and Haitian doctors, the hand of God in Egypt enabling the Children of Israel to escape from Pharaoh and his soldiers, the many cultures which have Gods siring human children – one could go on.

Much of this yearning for a savior is born in the nature of human experience. Always there have been tragedies and ills which defy explanation, personal and in society. So many have known the numbing impact of personal failure (e.g., disillusion with behavior of persons who had been trusted), discouraging events, frustration, death of hope, devastation of war, social conflict, ... physical world – tidal waves, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, killing thousands somewhere in the world almost every year.

So many persons in all times have not received a fair share of liberty, rights, justice, food, shelter, care on this earth. Look anywhere – this has always been true. One can understand the dream of a heaven where there is reward, compensation, bliss. There are millions, living and dead, who like the Psalmist have prayed in their agony, “out of the depths have I cried out to Thee, O God.”

But for good or ill, there are those of us who see “salvation” or better, wholeness, improvement, justice, as a task for us in this world, in spite of limits on our power, knowledge, and strength. Think of the concluding verses in the collection of sayings attributed to Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 7 – 24/26):

“Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand....”

[CJW notes: each built his house. God did not build – nor prevent rains and floods. The ... & resp was human... it would be true no matter who said it]

This has truth not because Jesus said it but because it is true in human experience. The way we build, the way we live, has more to do with the qualities and gratifications of this mystery of life than Superman or Jesus Christ Superstar.

One of the historic statements of Unitarians is “salvation by character.” Character is what we are and what we do. John Murray Atwood used to tell the story (from a Quaker source) about the little boy who was 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, character involves what we are and what we do in this world. The English educator L.P. Jacks once asked, “What should we know of goodness if we only heard it talked about and never seen a good man or a good woman?”

One thing more about Hollywood and comic book saviors. With all their super-powers, they do not seem to address or suggest solutions to the big problems. They do well with devilishly clever thieves, con-men, and perpetrators of individual crimes. But if I lived near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, I might be tempted to shout, “Superman, where are you, now that we need you!”

A supernatural savior won’t save us from nuclear power failures. The remedy resides in our acquiring the consciousness that with radiation technology we may be like unto the Sorcerer’s Apprentice. We turned something on that we can’t turn off. There could well be more such failures and the cure is not going to come from outer space and the planet Krypton. If we are willing to trade-off such danger, and possibly, devastation, in order to satisfy our needs for energy fuel, then let’s say so. But if not, let’s not listen only to the nuclear industry but concerned scientists. [CJW notes: Pres – “stable + improv.” Today – possibility of “explosion – wider ... actuation....]

This is one of many issues where it will be difficult to target an individual sinner for key social problems. I wonder how many of the 22,000 employees of the Department of Energy with its $10-$12 billion budget know whether the citizenry just want energy or whether we want safe energy. [CJW note: We probably don’t know ourselves. But high time we asked, “what are the tradeoffs?”]

That is of course just one issue – possibility of war will be stronger if we fail to reach an arms limitation with the Soviet Union. On and on.

Do we need a Savior? Yes, but the only one I see or understand combines us all in a saving process, an effort to be informed, to focus on human values, and to never permit our decision-makers to forget what we want for this family of humankind to be and to become. William James once wrote, “habit is the great flywheel of our social life.”

I cherish the hope that I and others will make a habit of advocacy of human values wherever and whenever we can.

The Land Was Ours, Before We Were The Land’s

November 25, 1976 – Orl
November 22, 1979 – Lakeland
Thanksgiving

The Land Was Ours, Before We Were The Land’s

In the land of the Senecas, which was roughly bounded by the Genesee River on the East and the Niagara joining of two lakeheads on the West, there still stand some of the longhouses of the Senecas, part of the Iroquois family of nations. The longhouse was a community residence of matrilineal families, but it was also a community council house.

For hundreds of years before the Pilgrims came, the American Indians celebrated the gathering-in of harvest. The Senecas were an agricultural tribe which had evolved an intricate Thanksgiving ritual. Thanksgiving was Ganon:yonk, celebrated with poems and the Feather and Drum Dance. Skilled orators would recite the age-old poems. Tribal chiefs Cornplanter and Red Jacket were among the most famous when the Europeans invaded the peaceful land of the six nations. At harvest time, there was a belief from the most ancient of times that when the thanksgiving ritual began, even the wind stopped and all spirit forces listened.

To the cadence of the drum, the rhythmic stomp of dance and the measured chant of the poem, the Longhouse people gave thanks for the structure of the world and for the grain, corn, squashes, beans, venison, and wild turkey provided there so that the people of the six nations might survive and mate and endure.

We know more of the psalms of thanksgiving created by the Hebrews, but the peace loving tribes of the Iroquois had their songs of thanks. Part of their thanksgiving chant went:

“We give thanks for the corn and beans and squashes that give us life;
We give thanks for the Great Spirit who is all goodness and
who directs all things for the good of his children.”

We are a long way from Cornplanter and his people. We buy turkey and squash, not grow it – but we are alive; we know love and pain an anxiety – and at times, assurance that life is good. And we give thanks.

The Senecas’ and Pilgrims’ survival depended on the favorable allotment of sun, rain, heat, frost, and cold. Our survival is dependent on complexities of culture, needing generosity and understanding that can break through much more difficult boundaries than the Genesee and the Niagara. Our breakthrough has to be through thick walls of international fear and, within our own country, through walls of racial mistrust and the wall of ignorance and hostility between groups.

Perhaps Sam Bradley puts our thanks and fears in words:

Pilgrims, Pilgrims Yet

“They came as strangers, pilgrims of the earth,
to a wilderness of untried strengths, a West
for bolder covenants. And their unrest
is still in us. Each humbled line of birth,
rebel or not, yet far-ventures worth
of everyman. And our God-speeds attest
a perpetuity of trust, a quest
not halted by a dowsing at the hearth.

“A stranger’s hand? A promised world at hand?
Draconian rules to pass? If we undo
old mistimed power, tradition misapplied,
ours, fasces of new power! But to command
our sheaf of stars, we must somehow subdue
Our waylost fear and our waylaying pride.”

Thick and Thin Theology

November 1979
Lakeland

Thick and Thin Theology

The Unitarian Universalist denomination has “such a thin theology and such a thick ethic.” These are the words of William Sloane Coffin, noted minister of Riverside Church, N.Y.C., and for many years a courageous social activist. He did not make this statement with any intent to disparage Unitarian Universalists; rather, he was complimenting the long record of Unitarian Universalists in taking stands in the social order and attempting to meet human needs with no intention that such acts would create converts to Unitarian Universalist beliefs.

Now I shall not dwell today on our ethical virtues and activities. If we deserve applause, we do not have to seek it; when we pride ourselves overmuch, that is a sure signal that we are substituting self-satisfaction for awareness of the continuous urgency to grapple with old and new demands to meet human needs. Our task is not to seek praise but to strengthen our witness to injustice and make ever more effective methods of helping.

But is our theology “thin”?

First of all, many religious liberals are frequently trapped in the conceit that theology is nothing but an antiquarian eccentricity occupying musty minds living in the past. Some of us, particularly in the last half of the 20th century, have no room in our intellectual house for theology. One book reviewer commented on a History of Iceland (1758), [noting] that Chapter 12 was entitled “Owls in Iceland.” The chapter consisted in total, of this: “There are no owls of any kind in the whole island.” (American Scholar, Summer 1979, editor’s footnotes). Some persons would similarly describe theology among Unitarian Universalists as having no theologies. There are outdated irrelevancies in theology in my opinion, but there can be deep meanings and broad understandings, too.

Therefore I would like to speak to you about theology from my point of view. It is a principle among us that no one imposes a theology on any one of us. We have the freedom to believe, disbelieve, or ignore. The attempt will be to neither overlook the deficiencies nor the rewards of theology, trying to be candid about its limitations, urgent about its rewards.

Theology is traditionally defined as exposition about the nature of God, the creator, and the nature and destiny of human persons, the created. In Christian thought, theology came to mean the systematic statements which explained and defended the ancient creeds of Christendom. The intent of systematic theology was both to help believers understand their faith and to combat the counter-claims of those labeled, “heretics.”

Now one would suppose the opposite of a thin theology is a “thick” theology. If that means that theology is the sole possession of one or more particularly Christian movements, then, if not “thick,” it seems opaque to me. [marginal note: Harnack: “What is Christianity? Whatever finds expression in doctrines, regulations, ordinances, and forms of public worship comes to be treated as the thing itself.” ] When I think of theology I include the sweep of religions world-wide and to the depths of history, with emphasis on religious thought and its expression in words. Words expressing one’s honest thinking are effective and are still one of the better ways of religious expression.

In our western culture we are surrounded by the ancient faith symbols in art, architecture and literature. There are crosses on the churches, plastic Jesuses on the dashboard, exhortations on bumper stickers, Gideon bibles in the motel rooms, public prayers in the name of Jesus, Lord and Savior. Whether these signs help or hinder one’s religious response, they are ancient faith symbols.

The Christian creeds were formed in the early centuries of this era when the Roman Empire was disintegrating. There was a corrupt, crumbling bureaucracy within; the invading Vandals, Huns, Goths, were at the gates. It was a time of hopelessness. One need not wonder that dogma prescribed a supernatural scheme of salvation.

However, there is little wide-spread recognition that these doctrines and symbols relate to ages that are strikingly different in ways of thinking than in our modern world.

There is the process of evolution, not dreamed of when the creeds were hammered out 1500 to 1700 years ago. By stretching, for example, some think Genesis is poetic or symbolic [form] of expression, but the effort is laborious and unconvincing.

Modern physics and astronomy postulate a system entirely different from the ancient religious stories of the cosmos, no matter how poetic and lovely the latter may be.

Whether one calls it a “thin” theology or not, some of us attempt to comprehend religious truth in the light of modern thought. Not that modern thought is ultimate, for it is not exempt from decay and change in the same way as all that has gone by, been discarded, or modified.

One perennial theological deficiency is the temptation to confuse the beliefs of one’s own group with eternal truth. In our culture, I suppose the most obvious example of this is the Roman Catholic assertion and dogma that God does not permit the Church (the Pope) to teach error in matters of faith and morals. But there are many other instances of the deification of the power of a person or group, one teacher (theologian) - “Maybe that is what theologians are for – to tell us how we can be religious by doing what we would do anyway and believing what we would believe anyway.” (Paul Holmer, THEOLOGY TODAY). [marginal note: ask – does this make any substantive difference?]

Perhaps that has something to do with the proliferation of religious groups in this country. Someone gave me a clipping which stated that of the 1203 known religions discovered in research for “The Encyclopedia of American Religions,” 700 to 800 have been started since 1965.

These include such peculiar brands as “The Discordian Society,” worshiping the goddess of chaos and dedicated to anarchy, the Psychedelic Venus Church idolizing drugs and sex, and many others of varying notions, preachers, and theologies.

St. Paul (2nd Corinthians 4-7) made a penetrating observation, or rather, metaphor, when he wrote about faith: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels.” That is, the most devoutly held faith is limited by our experience in our time in our world. Theology is contained in an earthen vessel.

One of the noted Puritan preachers of Colonial times provided an apt illustration. In 1689, Cotton Mather, in a sermonic discourse on witchcraft, offered two kinds of proof that witches existed and practiced their malevolent ways. First, he cited the authority of scripture: Saul had sought out the witch of Endor who had supernatural powers to bring Samuel back from Sheol. Then Cotton Mather buttressed the witness of scripture with his own experience and cited testimony then current about witches. Cotton Mather’s voice was a strong influence in forming the social sanction which permitted the execution of alleged witches. In 1692 alone, 20 were executed, most of them by hanging. Today we would say that the theology which created acceptance for this hysteria and outrageous persecution was deficient indeed. It was enclosed in the earthen vessel of its times. Professor Georgia Harkness once wrote that the “differences between Calvinism and Lutheranism can be accounted for in no small measure by the fact that Calvin began his career as a lawyer and Luther as a monk.”

That our theology is carried in earthen vessels, subject to decay and change, conditioned by our background and needs are a limitation to any supposed absolutes of which Unitarians should be singularly aware. Here you need not agree with the pronouncements from a pulpit. Individual judgment is your privilege. Co-ercion of thought and imposition of ideas are intolerable among us. It goes for every one of us that no matter how persuasive the faith one cherishes individually, it is in an earthen vessel, a container shaped by one’s own inheritance, traditions, and experience; [it is] fire-glazed by one’s social conditioning.

Our theology (or philosophy) may be thin to those who cherish an unquestioning structure.

when the fact of pluralism is recognized, not only that one has the right and privilege of choosing among some 1,200 religious groups in this nation, but also, and more important, that there are great world religions whose origins, faith structures, and symbols began and grew quite independent of Judeo Christian Western religions. To assert only one way of salvation in this pluralistic world may be “thick” theology but seems a bit thick-headed to me.

From this it follows that we cherish, and ought to cherish, tolerance. A better attitude is acceptance even when most persons will not agree with our freedom principle for individual choice in religion.

We are heretics. Most persons do not recognize that it is a superior religious word because heresy comes from the Greek root, “to choose”. The reality is that many persons cannot endure the uncertainties of choice, and choose an over-dependence on authority.

I believe too that uncertainty grows. The more we discover about the macrocosm through the telescope and the microcosm through the microscope, the more mysterious the universe becomes and the more fragile seems our place in it. The more we ponder the process from Big Bang to single cell to creatures like ourselves, the more the mystery deepens. The ancient answers do not speak to my condition. But that should not dismiss the ultimate mystery of “why?” Nor shall I cease pondering. The most formidable question in philosophy is “Why is there something rather than nothing?”

If a theology of search is thin, so be it. John Milton is often quoted: “The light which we have gained was given us, not to be ever staring on, but by it to discover onward things more remote from our knowledge... to be still searching what we know not by what we know, still closing up truth as we find it, this is the golden rule in theology as in arithmetic.”

Let me close with two contrasting views:

[First]
As has been pointed out, “The theologian is not simply giving a straight account of the history of ideas: he is at the same time judging those ideas from the standpoint of the religion from which he starts....”

“The theological historians have decided in advance what the end of history is, and then they show how all the events in history have necessarily led up to this end.” (Adcock, “Hibbert Journal,” Aut. 65).

[Second]

Australian pastor Arthur Preston interviewed the great Scandinavian film actress Liv Ullman. The first cleric to do so before a microphone, he pressed her for some lay theology. Ullman: “I feel that there must be a meaning in our life. I feel if you thought of it you come into life with sealed orders and that God gave you those sealed orders. Your life in a way should be a striving, not so much to find out what those orders are, but to live as if it is important to live. Whatever you have inside, it is worthwhile trying to get out. [clipping from CONTEXT, Nov. 1, 1979, p. 4]

That too, I suppose, is a “thin” theology – but it suits my condition.

Theology is important. There is zest in the search – but it is an interpretation of life, not life itself. Live as if it were important to live. The real test of theology is conduct.

Time and Season

1979 (month and day not given)
Lakeland
Port Charlotte

Time and Season

Omar:

What eye can pierce the veil of God’s decrees,
or read the riddle of earth’s destinies?
Pondered have I for years threescore and ten
But still am baffled by these mysteries

Ecclesiastes 1:13/16

And I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven: this sore travail hath God given to the sons of man to be exercised therewith.
I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
That which is crooked cannot be made straight: and that which is wanting cannot be numbered.
I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem: yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge.

The first lines were from Omar Khayyam. The second reading from the Jewish scripture named Ecclesiastes. Each of these writers have contributed enduring lines to our literature. Although Omar nominally was a Moslem and Ecclesiastes a Jew, they were agnostic. They use the word “God” but Ecclesiastes’ God was not the Yahveh of Israel and Omar’s was not the Allah of Islam. Ecclesiastes and Omar thought, studies, observed, wrote, because they searched for the meaning of life, but could not find it in the religion of their heritages. Both were learned philosophers who had the rare gift of expressing their wisdom in poetic images.

There are many in our age, too, who see no supernatural divine plan for human beings, no plan of God for human life. There is little comfort in their writings for those who hope for happiness in a future heaven; there is nothing in their writing to cause fear of punishment in a future hell. They look at this life realistically and candidly, sometimes with a strain of despair, sometimes with a melody of pleasure. Many of us resonate to such alternatives.

Ecclesiastes is the Greek for the Hebrew word, Koheleth, the preacher, more accurately, one who speaks to the assembly or congregation. Although some think this was King Solomon, this is not true. Ecclesiastes was an unknown writer who lived hundreds of years after King Solomon in a period when some Hellenistic influence had been absorbed in the land of Israel, possibly around 200 B.C.E.

Many scholars believed there have been ... later editorial changes. The probability is that later editors felt the need to add certain pious phrases to make Ecclesiastes more acceptable in the prevailing religion.

Omar, a Persian, lived more than 1200 years after the time of Ecclesiastes, probably in the latter part of the 11th century and the early part of the 12th. He was a remarkable scholar learned in philosophy, Islamic law, and Arabic history, famous for his knowledge of the Koran. Like Ecclesiastes he wrestled with the questions of existence and sometimes his conclusions tortured him.

As with Ecclesiastes there are no authoritative manuscripts; existing copies differ and translators do not always agree. Omar may have cast off his scholarly pursuits and become a poet and tentmaker, for “Khayyam” means tentmaker.

Both Omar and Ecclesiastes were skeptical of any future world. Omar wrote:

“I sent my soul through the invisible,
Some letter of that after-life to spell
And by and by my soul returned to me,
and answered, ‘I myself am heaven and hell.’”

“I know not whether he who fashioned me
appointed me to dwell in heaven or dreadful hell,
(But) some food and an adored one,
and wine upon the green bank of a field -
All these are present cash to me:
Thine be the promised heaven.”

“Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of
Paradise
One thing at least is certain and
the rest is lies;
The flower that once has blown
forever dies.”

Ecclesiastes wrote: 2:18/23

Yea, I hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun: because I should leave it unto the man that shall be after me.
And who knoweth whether he shall be a wise man or a fool? yet shall he have rule over all my labour wherein I have laboured, and wherein I have shewed myself wise under the sun. This is also vanity.
Therefore I went about to cause my heart to despair of all the labour which I took under the sun.
For there is a man whose labour is in wisdom, and in knowledge, and in equity; yet to a man that hath not laboured therein shall he leave it for his portion. This also is vanity and a great evil.
For what hath man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun?
For all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity.

Omar wrote:

“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust unto dust, and under dust to lie,
Sans wine, sans song, sans singer, and sans end.”

Today has outlasted many tomorrows. Both Omar and Ecclesiastes put their hope and gratification in this life. Omar, more than Ecclesiastes, savors wine and pleasure. In a great many of the Rubaiyat (or quatrains) Omar emphasizes the pleasure of wine:

“So many cups of wine will I consume
Its bouquet shall exhale from out of my tomb
And every one that passes by shall halt
And reel and stagger with that mighty fume.”

“How long this talk about eternity to come, and the eternity past?
Now is the time of joy, there is no substitute for wine!
Both theory and practice have passed beyond my ken
But (wine) unties the knot of every difficulty.”

and a famous one, and more romantic:

“A book of verses underneath the bough
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness –
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!”

“Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears
Today of past regrets and future fears –

“Some for the glories of this world; and some
Sign for the Prophet’s Paradise to come;
Ah, take the cash and let the credit go
Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.”

Ecclesiastes is more austere, but sounds the same note. 2/24:

“There is nothing for a man than that he should eat and drink and make his soul enjoy his labor.”

And again 9:1/6

For all this I considered in my heart even to declare all this, that the righteous, and the wise, and their works, are in the hand of God: no man knoweth either love or hatred by all that is before them.
All things come alike to all: there is one event to the righteous, and to the wicked; to the good and to the clean, and to the unclean; to him that sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not: as is the good, so is the sinner; and he that sweareth, as he that feareth an oath.
This is an evil among all things that are done under the sun, that there is one event unto all: yea, also the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while they live, and after that they go to the dead.
For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion.
For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten.
Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun.

But Ecclesiastes may be at his least hopeful 3:19/end of chapter:

For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity.
All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?

Omar and Ecclesiastes in famous passages tell us of the uselessness of vain and foolish regrets. Omar writes,

“The moving finger writes; and having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy pity nor wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all thy tears wash out a
word of it.”

Ecclesiastes more famous passages in religious literature 3:1/ff 9 Times and Seasons:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes has many maxims that have insight into the human condition

4/13 Better is a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king.

... there is no discharge in war....

7/1 A good name is better than precious ointment.

7/5 It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise than hear the praises of fools.

11/1 Cast thy bread upon the waters
For thou shalt find it after many days.

7/11 Wisdom is as good as an inheritance.

The reflections of these humanistic seers have become part of our language. The emphasis on the now – not the past – not the future – is no comfort to those who consider life justified by individual immortality (supernatural salvation). Neither Omar nor Ecclesiastes look to Allah or Yahveh to save the human family from follies and error. We humans have today. Not yesterday except in memory; not tomorrow except in hope. Ecclesiastes is more stoic; Omar more epicurean.

(Stoics – ethics were chief concern, practical guide to life)

Both teach us how to seek wisdom but not to deny pleasure.

One thing more, we are aware of the superior value and joy of fellowship, of community, of material support.

(10/3)
Yea also, when he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool.

4-9ff:
“Two are better than one: because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow – but woe to him that is alone when he falleth and hath not another to lift him up. Again, if two be together, then they have warmth: but how can one be warm alone? And if a man prevail against him that is alone, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

The Creative Person

September 16, 1979
Lakeland?

The Creative Person

This is not a talk about people, playwrights, artists, sculptors, or composers, although many of these have been immortally creative. Creative persons can be inconspicuous as well as famous. [note in margin: I’m not talking about ingenuity or skill, artistic ability, or decorative inspiration; a deeper level – admirable qualities I wish I possessed.]

First of all, I want to share with you how this talk came about. Patty called me for a title to put in the Beacon. I told her I did not have one yet. But as I don’t like the phrase “to be announced,” I called her back in an hour or so and said my title would be “The Creative Person” with very little notion of how I would handle the subject.

Then, 2 hours later someone gave me the house organ of an old oil company which had a feature article, “Creativity – the human resource.” Great! Then looking over a book shelf, Rollo May’s The Courage to Create popped out at me. Last Sunday Al Esk. gave me a copy of the Emory University alumni magazine which carried an article “Art and Faith” by Robert Detweiler. Although I do not normally read the Miami Herald, I did later that day, and lo, there was an article “Creativity – It Boils Down to Hard Work.” Add some of the insights of Abraham Maslow, a couple of poets, and Genesis – Voila! This is a patchwork quilt sewn with my own thread. Maybe that’s creative – maybe not.

What is creativity? Webster’s indicates that it is bringing into being – to cause to exist.

In the superb myth of Genesis (2/7), the old scripture says “and Yahveh formed man of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” That is not history. It is mythic poetry as an ancient people tried to explain the marvel of creation – how the world and all that is therein came to being.

Rollo May (p. 40) in his treatment of creativity points out that we must get below the surface. He says we are thus not dealing with hobbies, do-it-yourself movements, Sunday painting or other forms of filling up leisure time. Nowhere has the meaning of creativity been more disastrously lost than in the idea that it is something you do on week-ends. This is not to discount the gratification the hobbyist experience nor the usefulness of what is made.

May says the first thing in a creative act is that it is an encounter. The artist studies a landscape, the sculptor a block of marble; Shakespeare encountered old legends in ancient history. Sometimes, as with abstract artists it is an encounter with some inner vision.

This encounter is not just looking. The creative act calls for intensity. The 19th century English Jesuit and poet, General Manley Hopkins, spoke of the “inscape” as opposed to the “landscape.” To Hopkins the inscape was a “coming together, moved by encounter and intensity into a unity of source.” (of vision)

There are many psychological theories about why there should be creative persons. Some would believe that it is an engaging of our subconscious with the creative vision erupting out of unresolved and submerged conflicts or needs.

Others, Maslow, for example, think of the creative act as occurring when there is a transcendence of self, a loss of ego or ego needs, or as he calls it, “total fascination with the matter at hand”, and is a characteristic of what he calls peak experience. Rollo May thinks of the latent powers of the self being realized in the creative act.

Still others believe the creative person tries to deal with his/her own inevitable death by creating that which will survive death, to reach beyond one’s death. Robert Detweiler, in the article I referred to, was struck by the exhibit in the Jewish Museum and Memorial in Prague, Czechoslovakia. It told of the story of tens of thousands imprisoned at Theresienstadt, there waiting to be shipped to the extermination places, or in some cases, the work camps. A place of transient confinement, hopelessness, and despair.

Yet “under the literal shadow of death, maintained an artistic existence.” Inside the concentration camp, they produced plays, held musical recitals, composed poetry, sketched and painted when they could find the materials.” Art against death.

Now I can’t choose among the theories, and single one out. There is probably some truth in all of them.

But the encounter with the inner vision or the source, and the integrity with which one is engaged, can never be shared unless the creative person works to produce it. Someone wrote, “Inspirations are a dime a dozen.” But the creative act is realized through skill, stubbornness, patience, and hard work. Maslow wrote, “People who create are good workers.”

Consider Michelangelo’s arduous labors when doing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Or Beethoven whose creative vision, talent, and capacity for hard work were face up against a most cruel turn of the screw for a composer or musician – deafness. Inspiration without perspiration is not creative.

Are there certain characteristics creative persons share? Or is the creative nature beyond description?

I said at the beginning that one of the patches in this patchwork quilt was a publication of one of the large oil companies. Celebrating the 100th anniversary of the founding of the corporation they put together a traveling exhibit, “Creativity – the Human Resource.” The company had difficulty putting the exhibit together because the museum they contacted seemed to have difficulty with the conception of creativity. The museum told them that museums traditionally deal with the product of creativity – artistic, scientific, historic – not with the engendering process.

But in putting the exhibit together “certain actions and attitudes of mind became too apparent.” Just one or two points are listed, the comments I have added:

Creative people challenge fixed assumptions.

Maslow writes (p. 93), “Common sense means living in the world as it is today, but creative people are people who don’t want the world as it is today, but want to make another world. And in order to be able to do that, they have to sail right off the surface of the earth to imagine, to fantas[ize], and even to be crazy or nutty and so on.”

There can be many illustrations, but I’m thinking of that delightful wall poster showing two caterpillars on a twig gazing at a beautiful butterfly. One caterpillar remarks, “they’ll never get me up in one of those things.”

“Creative persons discern previously unseen patterns and then see in new ways.”

Rollo May writes of a study made of creative persons (recognized by their peers). A control group of “normal” persons was included. The researcher showed both groups a series of Rorschach cards, some of which had orderly, systematic designs on them, and others disorderly, [a]symmetrical, and chaotic. The “normal” people selected the orderly, systematic designs as the ones they liked most. They liked their universe to be “in shape.” But the creative persons selected the chaotic, disorderly cards – they found these more challenging and interesting. They could be like God in the Genesis myth, creating order out of chaos. They chose the broken universe to encounter it and form it into new order. [marginal note: Chesterton: “the function of the imagination is not to make strange things settled, but settled things strange.”]

“Creative persons take risks. They struggle against that which limits them. They do not live in the past, or apart from the past. They live out of the past. [marginal note: myth of Prometheus – stealing fire from the gods – for benefit of humans, for this creative gift he was tortured eternally]

But what about so many of us who are not the creative persons, who may lack the vision, intensity, skill, and persistence to deserve the name “creative person.” I was thinking of myself and others, who at best may have or had creative aspects to some of our experiences. We share the heritage of creative persons.

Robert Detweiler in his article gave a clue that the process of art is to create “a special kind of focus through which we see ourselves revealed in a new way.”

Shakespeare does this for many of us. We see ourselves revealed. Our national Declaration of Independence, a great creation then and through the years, has been a lens through which again and again we have seen ourselves revealed. [marginal notes: in the powerful and sensitive and accurate verse and dialogue, indecision of Hamlet, cruel/ethical dilemma of Brutus; the gap between our professed ideals and the way we behave]

Interestingly enough both Detweiler and Rollo May use Picasso’s Guernica as an example of this focus. Like them, I have gazed for long periods at Guernica in the Museum of Modern Art. Picasso’s creation was an expression of outrage at the bombing by Fascist planes of the undefended town of Guernica, during the Spanish Civil War. Many of you have seen it and felt the horror of splintered/fragmented human beings, distortion, horror, despair - “a warning that men and women can lose their humanity.” [marginal note: 1937 – prophetic of the terrible years on the horizon]

The creative person nudges our complacency, portrays us as we are in comparison with what we could be. This happens, not with didactic teaching or a set of commandments but only by confronting our senses and our minds. There’s not a word in Beethoven’s Appassionata, but there is (to me) strength over pain and an heroic rebuff to those who are either faint-hearted or malicious.

James Joyce in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man has the hero write in his diary,

“Welcome, o Life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.”

The creative person creates the conscience we may not have or are not aware we have.

Willis Eberman, in his poem THE ARTIST, expresses for me what I owe the creative person:

No community altogether knows its own heart. The artist must tell it, must reveal what the average surmise; must make music or murals from the mass of inarticulate life. The secrets that she must utter are their own, not the hero. She gives no remedy, only the song, the poem, the soft articulate wind of art against the strings of the communal heart. Only then will she fulfill her reason for being born:

To administer
love, though it may bring their
displeasure
is her lone business and their revelation.

Can The Human Venture Prevail?

September 9, 1979
Lakeland

Can The Human Venture Prevail?

If you read New Yorker magazine perhaps you saw the cartoon in the August 13 issue. Two saurian monsters, perhaps a dinosaur and brontosaurus [sic] are lifting their massive reptile heads above some rocks looking at two stereotypical cavemen with their fur coverings and their clubs. These two prehistoric men are in panic and running for daylight along a canyon. One of the saurian beasts comments, “Evolution sure goofed there. Those guys aren’t particularly good at anything.”

Can the human venture prevail? One can glibly respond, “of course. The dinosaurs are gone and we’re still here.” One can also respond, “Maybe” or “prevail, how, in what social, physical, political, and economic context?” Now it may well be that my own inner curiosity has been exposed to a negative overload. In recent months the input of news, attitudes, feelings seems foreboding and discouraging. I would not be comfortable with myself if I could not face up to what’s happening. I would not presume on your time and patience just to indulge in unrelieved, glum, pessimism. There’s bad news and good news.

Even a partial list of formidable problems and dilemmas would take hours, so the following is abbreviated and incomplete:

Energy – it seems unarguable that there are still no accepted plans, planning, or national consensus. There are several plans, but the House, Senate, and President cannot seem to come to agreement. The lines at gasoline stations have diminished. But they may and probably will re-occur.

Furthermore, it seems that any measures taken to provide more energy inevitably weaken the gains made by those organizations and individuals who have struggled to preserve and maintain standards for clean air, water, and the natural environment.

Nuclear power will continue to be developed in spite of the scare at Three Mile Island and other occurrences. Few, if any persons in a position of national political leadership have objected to its development. We are told that any substantial development of solar energy, wind energy, or varieties of biological energy are too many years in the future.

Yet it seems widely known that accidents [and] leakage at nuclear plans present only part of the danger. The disposal of nuclear waste seems only lightly touched although the coming generation must confront a huge problem. A technical research group (MHB Technical Associates) suggests that radioactive waste disposal from nuclear plants could increase utility bills 10-20%. They also estimate that by 1995 there will be 60 metric tons of nuclear waste to dispose of at a cost of 40 billion.” (Washington Spectator, 8/15/79). And you know who will pay that billion. The alternative is reprocessing – produce fuel for nuclear bombs.

Consider inflation, taxes – the economics of our system. I’m not an economist but it is quite clear that the interest on my modest savings account is less than half the rate of inflation. Millions are in more distressed circumstances than they ever .... A friend of mine, a retired banker, was talking about the proposed windfall tax on ... company profits. He chuckled cynically at those who advocated this tax. Then he said, “When will you understand that corporations are not tax-payers, they are tax-collectors. They are remittance exchanges between you and the government – federal, state, local. Taxes are part of the cost of doing business and just add to the price of the product or service that you buy. So soak the corporations in the tax structure if you want but recognize that you are the one who will get wet.”

More and more I perceive the wisdom in Mark Twain’s words, “Man is the only animal that blushes, or needs to.”

Another contribution to the negative overload in my circuitry is the limited focus of the vision of what extermination wars would be. [note in margin: US Dept. of Interior tells ... “In case of enemy attack, to to nearest P.O. and ask for a Fed Employm. Emerg. Reg Card CSC 600. Fill out and mail.”] I have listened to much testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee hearings on the SALT II treaty. There is much technical discussion about throw-weights, multiple war heads, B1 bombers, our Triad system, the Soviet system, and on and on. [note in margin: In last couple weeks Soviet brigade Cuba (17) years ... get tough. 20 million Soviets died in WW2. ] Only rarely is the reality alluded to that a nuclear war equals we are all dead. Maybe there will be remnant bands wandering with their radiation-mutated offspring scavenging the poisoned fields and ruined waters.

But the threat of Communism is apparently so appalling that generally speaking, or national opinion-makers seem afraid and threatened if we fail to possess a 5 or 10 to 1 overkill. Here's a statement that would receive applause in many or most gatherings, even today:

“The streets of our country are in turmoil. The universities are filled with students rebelling and rioting. Communists are seeking to destroy our country; Russia is threatening us with her might and the republic is in danger. Yes, danger from without and within. We need law and order.”

If you do not know the source, would you guess the author? Robert Welch of the John Birch Society? Spiro Agnew in his speech-making days? Richard Nixon? The late Senator Joe McCarthy? Those were Adolf Hitler’s words, October, 1932.

I could go on with jolts that add to the negative overload.

The increasing cynicism that our government – legislative, executive, judicial – has the will to grapple authentically with the problems.

The pressure of single-issue advocates who seem to have no incentive to deal with the general good for all. We seem to have a government of lobbyists and unfathomable bureaucracies. A political reporter asked the White House press after the traumatic cabinet reorganization what new approach was planned. “Part of it is to get at the larger social attitudes and issues. I’d be the first to confess I’m not sure how you go about doing it.”

In the minds of some of you, there may be creeping some notion like this: If the negative overload is going so low on the dial, what’s Carl doing here? Why isn't’ he up on top of a mountain in Tibet contemplating his navel? Or staying in bed and refusing to get up? [Who wants to spend an hour Sunday morning (with) glum Jeremiah?] Well, there’s good news too.

In my collection of Murphy’s and other laws, there is Miksch’s law: “If a string has one end, then it has another end.”

A book that has enriched my reading in recent months is Barbara Tuchman’s A DISTANT MIRROR. The author, a distinguished historian, tells the story of the 14th century in Europe, a time of disaster for most people. In her foreword she cautions about negative overload – XVIII –

She names her book A DISTANT MIRROR because it suggests a reflection of our own 20th century of wars and woes. But, not identical, a far away image. In that period there were insane wars of conquest, pillage, and suffering. The so-called 100 years war between England and France ravaged Europe. The villages and towns were sacked and looted again and again as the armies shifted back and forth.

There were roving bands of soldiers, sometimes fighting for one side, sometimes fighting for another, and sometimes just fighting for loot on their own, living by the sword.

The governments were corrupt. Taxes were cruel. There was insurrection and schism in the Roman Catholic church which had been the bastion of authority, and to some extent, at least, the monitor of conduct individual, social, and political.

Then there was the Plague, 1348-50, with some re-occurrences. The people called it the Black Death. We know it was the bubonic plague, transmitted by fleas or by rats who were infested by fleas. The author calls the Black Death the most lethal disaster in recorded history (4,000 years). The Plague killed an estimated 1/3 of the population between India and Iceland. Perhaps 20 million died, although the exact number can never be known. Villages and towns were depopulated, some abandoned, never [re-]occupied.

“It was a period of anguish when thee was no sense of an assured future ... people felt subject to events beyond their control, swept like flotsam at sea, hither and thither in a universe without purpose.”

Despite malaise it was not a static time. For the loss of confidence in the kings, trust in the lords, faith in the Church, let to demands for change.

During the worst of these times, and hardly noticed, there were the beginnings of the recovery of learning, the flowering of art, architecture, learnings which as it developed during the ensuing century or so, we know now as the Renaissance.

In about the same period, the Age of Exploration and Discovery opened up new worlds: the Americas, Africa, India.

In 1453-54, Gutenberg produced the first printings from movable type – and the rapid spread of the printing press radically changed communication, learning, religion, economics, and politics.

In 1517, Luther’s 95 theses marked the beginning of the Protestant Reformation – inaugurating sweeping change in religion that affected all areas of living, then and since.

Interlocked with all these was the rising middle class which turned around the nature of both economic and political power.

An age of utter anguish and despair was succeeded by the beginnings of an age of confidence and hope. New worlds opened up! [Inserted note: On July 4, 1776, King George III - “Nothing of importance happened today.”]

Can there be such a turn-around? Can the human venture prevail? [Inserted note: The only thing we learn from the last – one does not learn from the past.]

The human venture does prevail in what may be called the meanings of the moment. The joy and warmth of being with friends and loved ones. The satisfaction of a good meal. The relaxed tiredness of having done well the day’s work. The stimulation of physical activity. Watching the young grow in wisdom and strength. The crash of the ocean waves. The wind in the pines. These never lose their charm and when we reflect on these experiences life is so fine.

But the human venture will continue to prevail as we look to the future too. Make our voices heard for change. None of us can struggle on all fronts with all issues. But some of us can be heard and known for some issues, even one. For if we do not we are giving up our faith in the future.

Around us there have been trees and shrubs planted. They will not attain full growth in the lifetime of many of us. But does that make the planting useless? Where I live, I think of that every month or so when I cultivate and fertilize some trees I’ve planted.

Maybe the orange and grapefruit trees will have a good harvest in my lifetime. Maybe, maybe not. For sure, the Norfolk Island pine will never be anything but small while I live, but some day, someone will look up to a 100 foot tall straight trunk with good feeling. That good feeling cuts down on the negative overload. I’d rather not that these trees and those who who might one day enjoy them be incinerated in nuclear war or sickness and die in biological war.

Such are meanings for the future. That is why we must put an end to war.

Do you remember the old story from the pre-ERA days: a five-year-old Betty who “unwittingly tried to promote her older sister’s chances one evening when her boyfriend called unexpectedly. ‘My sister isn’t home,’ Betty told him, ‘She wants to get married so she’s going to night school to study domestic silence.’”

Can the human venture prevail? Not with domestic silence.

Can the human venture prevail? The late Reinhold Niebuhr, eminent Christian theologian minister and social activist, stated the conditions:

Nothing worth doing is completed in a lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful makes sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love. – Reinhold Niebuhr

Truth is one; the wise describe it in many ways – Rig Veda

The Sermon on the Amount

February 4, 1979
Lakeland
(re-write: Port Charlotte, 1980)

The Sermon on the Amount

I tried, but my deepest thought and limited imagination did not give me with the wit, humor or wisdom to string out the pun, “The Sermon on the Amount.” But it is a fact that this Fellowship will continue as a place of our gathering if we members pledge and pay our financial support. The amount counts. Our Financial Committee, with many helpers, have put in long hours, planned a series of meetings where you have had an opportunity to say what this Fellowship means to you and could mean to you. Later in this meeting you will have the opportunity to state your priorities or refine the priorities the Finance Committee has sensed from your comments.

There was a cartoon in a church magazine which depicted two glum-looking clergymen, probably the senior and associate ministers, gazing at a rather sparse sum of money. One says to the other, "Inflation seems to have hit everything but the collection plate."

What is of value to you? A few years ago, when I was in the NYC area, there was a news story about a saloon which had to move because the building in which it was located was taken for some urban renewal project. There was argument by city and federal housing authorities as to whether or not the historic tavern was a "social institution worth saving." Then after a period, the decision was made, the saloon was valued as a social institution and would be permitted to rent space in the new project when the building was completed. Meanwhile temporary quarters across the street would be rented. The happy, regular customers helped move bar stools and tables across the street. One of them was quoted in a most interesting comment, "If it wasn't for this place, God knows, I'd have to go to church to find any of the boys."

What do you see in this Fellowship? An out-distanced runner-up to a convivial pub, or something more?

The members of the Fellowship provide the only substantial flow of funds. The Fellowship is the body of persons, members and friends held together, voluntarily, by a common rule. We assemble to share convictions, to attempt mutual persuasion, to set directions for actions. We see a fellow Unitarian Universalist not only as another person whose beliefs are not limited by an imposed creed, but also see him/her as a person whose convictions represent interdependency as well as independence. The Fellowship knows itself not only in the lateral profiles and the back-of-the-neck views of our chairs arranged in rows. More vitally, we know each other in face-to-face mutual involvement.

The persons in our Fellowship who consider, decide, commit and act represent no permanent line of portraits in an unchanging gallery. Thornton Wilder's play, OUR TOWN, superbly presented the temporary nature of individual lives and the permanence of the human family. Wilder captured the glory and pathos in the lives of average persons in Grovers Corners, not much different from you and me.

The persons in our Fellowship are like the people in OUR TOWN. A child is born; with gladness he/she is welcomed and the group counts one more. Man and woman choose to walk together henceforth and we are glad for their union. A man or woman dies in bed, or far from home. We count one less and know the tug of sorrow. Our minds are anxious with unanswerable questions when tragedy strikes; our roster is lessened by an aching omission. A family moves – this is an age of mobility – we are glad when theirs is a more rewarding assignment, but sorry that a needed family has gone beyond the immediate circle of our Fellowship life. A new family or individual arrives. We are glad because we need talent, interest, influence, support. We need the bracing, yeasty ferment of new ideas and fresh strength. We need the added happiness created by new friends.

The persons in our Fellowship are a moving, changing pageant, never the same today as yesterday; and no tomorrow will be just like today. We journey together on the road to an unknown future. Sooner or later, every one of us will drop out along the route of the human march. But if we have walked together with good-will, understanding and mutual help, we will have been stronger individually and a happier company in our journey together.

But to keep that quality, we must keep organization and support effective. In the fine series of books, RIVERS OF AMERICA, Henry Beston described the geography and culture of the areas bordering the great St. Lawrence River. Beston wrote of a unique quality of life in rural, devout French Canada, "like an old room warmed by an open fire, the little society was warmed by that sense of human oneness and ultimate equality which the religious temper alone can give."

The campaign organization and plans for our Annual Fund Drive are put together because business-like procedures are required. Now there are always those who feel some sensitivity when money matters explicitly intrude on their life in the Fellowship. But there is nothing awry or gauche in an orderly, informed campaign to raise money for the Fellowship. I still remember a scene from a musical on Broadway, ON A CLEAR DAY YOU CAN SEE FOREVER, one of the more amusing characters is a Greek-multi-millionaire shipping magnate, who in the unfolding of the plot, visits the clinic operated by the hero and his brother, both psychologists. The millionaire keeps referring to “who runs the business here? Who manages the business?” and so on. The psychologist, sensitive to his professional qualifications, keeps assuring the rich man, “this is not a business, this is a psychological clinic.” The shipping magnate stares and asks, “You take in Money?” “Yes.” “Well, it's a business.”

In that frame of reference, this Fellowship is a business, too. Money is taken in because when a button is switched, you expect the bulb to light. You expect to be warm or cool depending on the weather, to be untouched by falling plaster or rain from a leaky roof. You decided that you wish to retain me on a part-time basis because I have been trained for the profession of ministry. A good religious education program requires supplies and curricula. The government requires postage on mail. For this and much more, you commitment of money is asked.

Support of our Unitarian Universalist Association
Florida District
Cluster

It's a business.

Don’t give until it hurts, within your means, give until it feels good.

But remember that in this "business", you, the members, are the management. In the Annual meeting, members make the binding choices for the allocation of money from the pledges of the members. You pick and choose.

Because we believe that the person is more than a molecular sequence, or a biochemical conglomeration, we covenant together to maintain the value of the person, to seek the ways, individually and together, to support the issues which will create increasing recognition of the surpassing need to labor for freedom, fellowship and human dignity. This is our purpose as a Fellowship. We differ among us as to how we shall worship together, how we shall describe God, or whether we shall even attach any meaning to the idea of God. We interpret the experience of religion variously. We seek to deepen our faith by openness to the conviction of others, whose witness for religion may be based on differing intensities of experience and unlike interpretations.

Yes – raising money is a business – but if we respond well to the efforts our Finance Committee has made, we will find that we have enhanced the depth, joy, fun, and feeling of being together:

The joy of an old story or a new child

The vibrating sensitivity of human empathy when we embrace the grief stricken or the joyful

The zest of fine conversations
The delight of a shared meal

The remembrance of things past
The chance to stand on an issue – help

The hope (and expectation) of new and good experiences to come

This I believe is our total worship – our worthship.

Addendum

Quote from Charles Morris, The Open Self, p. 23:

“It is not the wind which is lacking, but the hoisting of our sails.”

The Art of Following Stars

December 24, 1967
Plainfield

The Art of Following Stars

There are many ways to acquire wisdom. On this December 24th, why not permit your imagination to respond to the possibility that what makes wise men wise may be the art of following stars? Matthew’s gospel describes the legendary visit of the Wise Men from the East. The factual basis for this legend can be discussed in a minute. But deserving of much more time than alloted today is the rich suggestiveness of the story as a source of wisdom for living.

Books of astrological predictions abound. Astrological forecasts are regular features in many newspapers. there are still many people who believe, or have a teasing intuition, that the heavens not only declare the “glory of God” but also chart or influence our individual destinies. Astrology is one of the most ancient belief-strands. The legend of the wise men who brought gifts to the baby Jesus may have gathered around several traditions of ancient folk-lore. First, Matthew’s gospel emphasizes the Christian belief that Jesus was the Messiah whose coming had been long awaited by the Jews. There is a specific reference to an old scriptural prophecy from Numbers, (24/17), where it was predicted that,

“a star shall come forth out of Jacob,
and a scepter shall arise out of Israel.”

There is a story in Roman history which records the visit of three Eastern magicians to the emperor Nero, to bring him gifts and to salute his sovereignty. This visit to Nero may have been an influence on Christian traditions, because the birth stories about Jesus in the gospel of Matthew were not a part of the gospel until long after the time of Nero. Furthermore, the birth legends of both Matthew and Luke were probably not attached to these gospels until much later than the other parts, possibly as late as 115.

Astrological calculations represented a powerful influence in the old Persona religion of Zoroastrianism, a religion at least six hundred years old at the beginnings of the Christian era. In addition to the Jews, there were many other Near-Eastern and Asian peoples longing passionately for a Messiah who would free the oppressed people from foreign tyranny. There could have been many journeys by Persian astrologers following directions derived from interpreting the rhythm of the night skies.

There is no way of substantiating whether the legends about Jesus’ birth have some literal truth or not. Moreover there can be little expectation that we will have more substantial historical authority for any facts about the Wise Men. But there is an abundant help for our human situation in the imaginative resources of the wonder-full old story. Christmas is an appropriate occasion for the free play of imagination.

Those three men were wise not because of special knowledge derived from their astrological charts, but rather from a correct perception of what was good and what was bad in human events. They came from the East seeking a king they might worship. To locate a king, see the old king, so they sought out Herod. This was natural enough. The ancient and accepted ways prescribe that royalty mixes with royalty; that royalty descends from royalty, with succession of being established by direct blood lines, usually.

But the kind the Wise Men were seeking was not known to Herod. Herod’s crown rested uneasily on his head, for he knew the rebellious temper of oppressed people who would unite in revolt when the Messiah should come. When Herod summoned his advisers, they told him where the centers of insurrection might be. Herod’s secret service knew the Hebrew scriptures, not so much for inspiration but as the documents of subversion. So they quoted the prophet, Micah (5/2) to Herod:

“And thou Bethlehem in the land of Judah,
Art by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from thee shall come a ruler
Who will govern my people Israel.”

Seemingly, Herod did not want to spring the trap prematurely. Bringing the Wise Men again into his presence in order to direct them to Bethlehem, he said, “When you have found him bring me word that I too may come and worship him.”

With this advice and request, the Wise Men left behind the royal court. They made their way to Bethlehem where the star came to rest over the place where the child was. Greatly rejoicing, the astrologers brought their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh and prostrated themselves in worship before mother and child. Then, “being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.”

To take another way is an expression of the art of following stars. The Wise Men had been disciplined by an encounter with evil and they had been inspired by an experience of creative good. One learns to sort out the good from that which is evil, or less good, by a readiness to seek new directions; a willingness to re-interpret meanings when reason, or sometimes, intuition, suggests such need.

The Wise Men also were not deceived by Herod’s crafty attempt to use them as tools in the betrayal of the baby. What the old legend refers to as “being warned in a dream” may be that – a warning contained in a dream. It also may be a poetic way of reporting conferences. Insights and revised plans based on shared opinions. Perhaps they had agreed to keep open minds on what they might discover in Bethlehem.

They must have been wise enough to recognize Herod’s motives. The Wise Men did not yield up the objective of their journey. They followed the brightness of their star in the heavens and ignored the dazzle of Herod’s power. The Wise Men brought their gifts to the child; then they went home another way. Modern analytic psychology might find that the image of a child in a dream indicates the beginning of a new life taking form in the self. Wise Men found a new life and went back another way.

What do you do when confronted with the enthronement of wrong? The Wise Men have taught that one can go over, around, or even through an obstacle and still not lose sight of the goal for long.

If you have ever seen the desert, you know that footprints which could be guides, swiftly disappear, covered by shifting sands. The Wise Men had to develop the art of following stars, because there were no footpaths in the desert. But then too, there were no wheel ruts either.

The deserts of difficult choice do not provide easy paths, and ruts should be avoided. It is an art of human experience to become aware that one need not be stymied hopelessly behind a barrier, even when the obstacle is entrenched power. One can climb, side-step, or dig a tunnel. Just as a sailing vessel must tack, approaching a destination obliquely when certain winds prevail, so we need flexibility in charting directions, wherever one’s Bethlehem may be.

Perhaps most important to the art of following stars, when the Wise Men encountered evil in their human experience, they changed directions, but did not sacrifice the goal. There are times when the toll highways are not the best way to the destination. There are occasions when even the very learned, or the very obstinate, or the very angry, should dream of other answers because the old ways may not be the best ways anymore.

The taking of another way was not only the result of being warned and disciplined by evil, but also was the result of being inspired by the experience of the good. With the jewels of their crescents sparkling like the flame they worshiped, the splendidly-robed Magi brought their gifts – where? To the tent of a wealthy caravan merchant? To the throne of Caesar? To the court of Herod the Syrian king? To a learned astrologer? No, to none of these.

They brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to a pungent stable in a cave where a young mother shared her gladness in her new son.

Joseph and Mary’s son in Bethlehem, the Bernadone’s boy infant in Assisi, Thomas Lincoln’s biblically named baby in the Kentucky wilderness – how many of us would have guessed the potential? Yet we perceive in our more responsive and imaginative moments that there is something in the fresh presence of wanted babies in the world that makes better people of most of us, at least for awhile. Sometimes it is the experience of parents; sometimes it is the daring and charming possibilities that we feel are potential for the human family. Theodosia Garrison in some lines from her poem, “The Star,” poetically suggested the universal appeal of new life on earth:

“Some only dreamed who followed it,
Some, knowing, bore rare gifts and bright,
And some, poor souls and lack of wits,
But followed where they saw the light;
Yet all were led (by Jesu’s grace)
By the same star to the same place.

“There are many roads to love
as paths above the world may stray.
Some dip below, some wind above,
Yet one star shows to each his way;
And dreamer, king, and lack of wit
(By Jesu’s grace) may follow it.”

Now if the Wise Men’s experience could not also be ours in some sense, all this would be trivial chatter. But we too encounter the good and the bad in our travel toward our goal-stars. Like the Magi, we will be affected by the evil we encounter. Like they, we can be transformed by the good we meet in all varieties of human experience.

The Wise Men saw skies teeming with stars, even as on clear evenings still, the blue-black canopy of night is jeweled with uncounted millions of sparkling gems. According to the old story, the Wise Men plotted their course guided by a star which led them to Bethlehem. They chose the star that would lead them to the place they wanted to go.

This is our continuing opportunity too. Which star is the one to follow? To move from poetry to practicality, which of many goals are you going to choose? Life can frustrate us rather thoroughly unless we are skillful enough in the art of following stars to pick the one that illuminates the way to our best fulfillments.

But to make the Wise Men’s choice, we must admit to our minds and hearts enough warm light to illuminate the cold, dark places of our pride. The Wise Men had to leave a monarch’s glittering palace to find authentic royalty in a rude stable – emergency housing for a peasant family.

Carl Sandburg told a story of Lincoln which illustrates that the achievement of goals may require the dispensing with a certain amount of personal vanity. When Lincoln was an officer in the Blackhawk War, he “was a beginner and once couldn’t think of an order that would get the two platoons endwise, two by two, for passing through a gate. So he commanded, ‘This company is dismissed for two minutes, when it will fall in again on the other side of this gate.’” (THE PRAIRIE YEARS, p. 62)

This not only was an example of a clever mind, but also in a military setting it was honestly humble – and an omen of the creative leadership that Lincoln would one day bring to the nation. He knew the art of following stars – the courage to take another way, even though he might lose face in the opinion of an expert drillmaster.

The wisdom of taking another way is one of the enduring experiences that can come to us as the light lengthens, as human hospitality warms us, as the love of children who are loved casts a magic glow on the human scene. The wisdom of the ancients was glorified by the light of a child’s face. This was as it should be ever, for the living creations of love and labor are both the means and ends of a life that is worthwhile.