Interview Transcript

Audiotaped Interview with Carl J. Westman
April, 2003

Interviewer’s name is not given, but is believed to be Rev. Linnea Pearson.

CJW: I was born in Boston in 1911, and my parents, then, and grandparents, were Unitarian. When they moved to a suburb, Everett, when I was two years old, they migrated to the Universalist church. And I grew up in that church. When my father died in an accident when I was thirteen years old, the church became a real support for me, particularly the minister, who took an interest in me. I did things for him, such as running the projector for his illustrated lectures. I was very active in the youth group. I preached my first sermon when I was sixteen to a large audience, who were very kind to me, in spite of my brash teenage assertions. So the church has always been a part of my life. I knew in high school that I wanted to become a minister, but because I graduated in 1929, when the roof fell in on finances everywhere, I could not go to college because I had to help out at home, and that continued for some years.

Interviewer: That was kind of disappointment for you. When did you finally get so that you could go to school?

CJW: Well, I married young, and had a variety of jobs, from an office clerk, to working in construction, with the construction firms that built Quonset Naval Air Station during the immediate preceding years of the war, and then in a shipyard in Hingham, MA, and then I worked as a labor foreman in an iron foundry. And when it began to appear in, I think it was 1944, that maybe I had a chance to go to college, and theological school, and work my way through, I took that opportunity.

Interviewer: Going back for a minute, losing your father at thirteen had to be a very traumatic event for a teenage boy.

CJW: It changed my life in many ways. It was not only the shock of losing one’s father, but also because there was no money in the family, my mother had to go to work, and I had to work after school, going to high school, so I missed out on much of the social life that high school students have, and so, but Sunday being free, was where so much of my interest gathered.

Interviewer: Were you active in the youth group of the church?

CJW: Yes I was. We had a small, but very active, youth group in Everett, and it was part of larger groups in the county, which would have as many as 200 young people at a meeting. So that was a very good experience for me, and in some ways replaced what would normally be the teenage experience.

Interviewer: That’s so common for so many young people in the church. Did you marry someone from the church?

CJW: Yes I did. She was a year younger than I, and she was also in the church and in the youth group. We were married very young, which, looking back, perhaps it was too young; nevertheless, it happened. We were married for many years, finally growing apart, divorced in the 1960s.

Interviewer: Any children?

CJW: I have two sons and two daughters. [A] picture’s on the wall there. They are all doing very well, except my younger daughter Janet, who is the second from the right, who has ALS, the Lou Gehrig disease, and does not have long to live. And ... so we all grieve about that.

Interviewer: I’m sure you do. That’s the tragedy in your life today. Can you tell us about the Universalist Church, and what they were like when you were growing up?

CJW: The Universalist Church, when I was growing up ... in my community, it was a very strong church. The church held 400 people, and it was frequently filled, and sometimes they had to bring out additional chairs. There were over 200 children and young people in the Sunday School, so it was a very strong church for many years. But, in that city, Everett, so many people moved out to further suburbs, and the population moving in was largely Roman Catholic. So, the church gradually dwindled, and I don’t know when it closed, but sometime in the 1940s.

Interviewer: I see. When you first became a minister, can you tell me what it was like?

CJW: Yes. Bearing in mind all that I’ve told you, I was a latecomer to the ministry. I was forty years old when I was ordained, having finished theological school and college, and I think one of the great differences I see between the ministry today and what it was in my time, was that there’s far more attention paid to a minister’s needs than in my time. I made several moves, which were made just for increase in salary, which I had to have because of my family, and I would have gladly stayed if the church involved had been willing to pay me a little more money. Nowadays, I see that there is much attention paid to the minister’s salary package, and that is all to the good.

Interviewer: How did you feel about the fact that the church pays such a low wage?

CJW: It did not bother me; we were all in the same boat. I felt the ministry was where I belonged, and we did get by. My sons and daughters all went to state colleges, so they got through; my sons were on athletic scholarships. And, so, it made out, but no, it was a struggle. I did not even have pension money set aside until 1960, which means I did not accumulate much pension money.

Interviewer: And that’s why you’re having some hardship today.

CJW: Look where I live.

Interviewer: Can you tell us about the merger commission?

CJW: Yes, I was part of it. I was minister in Akron, Ohio, when I was first appointed. Well, first of all, I was on the Board of Trustees of the Universalist Church of America, and their Executive Committee, so I was appointed to the Merger Commission, which was comprised of a number of both Universalists and Unitarians who were charged with the task of finding ways that might support a merger of these two denominations. Merger had been talked about for a great many years. Some people said that merger talks began in 1855, and it took 100 years to get to the point of actually being serious. There were a number of problems that had to be solved, including the name of the new denomination. We were able to work out the differences in organization, and essentially create the organization of the Unitarian Universalist Association, as it became and still is today. There were many who weren’t that enthusiastic about merger. Some Unitarians felt that union with Universalists would hinder growth. Some Universalists felt that Unitarians were too radical, although there were radical elements in both denominations. The work required a great deal of study and reports, but the merger, after a couple of [votes], went through very well, and was – I wouldn’t say it was unanimous, but a very heavy majority favored this merger.

Interviewer: Some churches haven’t really taken up the double name. My church in Colorado hasn’t, and I was wondering about that.

CJW: Well, some of them prefer to maintain their historic name. On both sides. One church I served in Akron, a Universalist church, readily adopted the double name. The church I served in Rochester, New York, did not, because there was already a Unitarian church in the community. Although there were very good relations between the two, each kept their own name – First Universalist, First Unitarian.

Interviewer: Over the years, how has the role of the minister changed?

CJW: That’s a little difficult to answer, because I retired from full service in 1976. I would say that the minister is much better trained in counseling than in my day. I would say that in many cases, laypeople have assumed obligations they should, in terms of the organization of the congregation, so the minister doesn’t have to run everything. People do take care of fundraising and religious education and so on, so I’d say there’s, at least in my observation, there’s a great deal more of lay leadership, being active in our congregations, than in the early days of my ministry. And that’s a very good thing.

Interviewer: So you’re talking about how churches have changed as well. How has the denomination changed?

CJW: Very little, I think. It seems to me that we, more or less, behaved (if that’s the word) as each of us did separately. The general assemblies, which replaced the annual meeting of the American Unitarian Association and the annual meeting of the Universalist Church of America, are much more heavily attended than ever was the case before, in terms of the next general assembly in Boston in 2003, they’re expecting close to 9,000 people, I am informed, which would mean for a tremendous difference. I think one of the large changes I have seen is that women are, I believe, a majority of our ministry, and that’s been all to the good. So many of them have become, were, and are, very effective ministers.

Interviewer: That’s interesting. Now, as you look back on your ministry, what were the peak experiences, both traumatic and in regards to achievements?

CJW: The most traumatic experience was in my first church, Gloucester, Massachusetts, a historic church. It was the first organized Universalist Church in America, but these were the years 1950 to 1953, when McCarthyism was so prevalent that I was under fire for ideas which were certainly not unusual for Unitarian Universalists of that date. I was called a communist. One member stopped my eleven-year-old daughter in the street and told her “Your father’s a communist.” And so we understandably said she didn’t have to go to church anymore. So she stayed home and cooked Sunday dinner, and is a gourmet cook today. Being under fire for ideas that are basically within the Bill of Rights and within our Unitarian Universalist tradition of free speech and so forth, this certainly was the worst experience of my life, my ministerial life. I was very tempted to leave the ministry at that time, with people calling up while I was away and telling my wife that her husband’s a communist, and “Why don’t you all get out of town.”

Interviewer: These weren’t Unitarian Universalists?

CJW: Some were.

Interviewer: Some were Unitarian Universalists? My goodness.

CJW: Yes. I found out later that the postmaster, who was a member of the church, had a mail check put on me. So that was the most difficult experience of my life, my ministerial life.

Interviewer: Well, it sounds like it was your personal life also, with children.

CJW: Oh yes. And they’ve never forgotten it either. The ones who were old enough. The peak experiences? There were many. It’s hard to single them out. I’ve been ... certain recognitions, people who appreciated my ministry... I used to keep a file that I called “Treasured Letters,” and it was rather full. It’s hard to single out any one experience. I guess the successful outcome of the merger commission was one of the top experiences. And I enjoyed being a district executive, where I worked with many churches, helping them to solve problems, get ministers, and so forth, and I guess that was a fairly high point in the ministerial life. But most of all my peak experiences have been with people – persons to whom I related, became very close. Other than that, no, I was never elected to high office – although I served in a number of capacities, but no, my peak experiences [were] the kind of people people I would run into in our churches.

Interviewer: That doesn’t surprise me because we know you’re very loved and respected and appreciated in this community.

CJW: Well, that’s the only way I can put it.

Interviewer: Can you talk a little bit about your experiences in the civil rights movement?

CJW: Yes, a little bit. At the time, I was in Rochester, New York, minister of First Universalist there, and of course we were concerned, some of us in the congregation, and when the young black man was killed in Selma, and the Board of Trustees of the UUA all went there by airplane, at first I was going to do that, but then I talked to other interested persons, and we decided that we would instead hire a bus. And about forty of us went. Most of them were not members of our church, and there was certainly an integrated group, a number of, well, for example, some very intelligent and caring teachers, who happened to be black, were among those who went.

So we had a bus trip from Rochester to Montgomery, actually going to Birmingham to meet the march en route, and south of the Mason-Dixon line, new drivers came on the bus, they were all uptight about having to drive this bunch of people...

Interviewer: I can imagine!

CJW: ... and they were polite, but icy. I remember we arrived in Birmingham, and spent the night at the Unitarian church in Birmingham, sleeping on the floor, most of us, and in the morning, taking the bus to go to the outskirts of Montgomery, where we joined the march into that city. And that was an unforgettable experience, not only for the abuse that was heaped upon us as we marched, but also about walking through the slums of Montgomery, largely occupied by black people ... women who came out saying, “Thank God you’ve come, thank God you’ve come.” So that was an unforgettable experience.

One of the experiences that, when we walked to our bus after the mass meeting was over, another man and I were escorting two black schoolteachers from Rochester, and I can’t begin to tell you the kind of abuse that was heaped upon us, as we walked to the bus, from largely white young men. It would have been easy to yield to anger, but we were disciplined enough to do it. But I felt an enormous sensitivity to the kind of names, particularly, these young black teachers were called. The worst of profanity, if you can imagine it.

And then, of course, there was the famous meeting in Washington, where Martin Luther King, Jr., gave his “I Have A Dream” speech. And again, a number of us in Rochester got together and hired a bus to take us there, and that too was an unforgettable experience.

We also had some civil rights activities in the city of Rochester, where we had some riots. I remember trying to be part of the effort to calm things down, and in the clergy association of that city, we decided to go in pairs, a black minister and a white minister, through the rioting areas, attempting to calm things down. How much we succeeded, I’ll never know. Things did calm down, but maybe they would have anyway. But again, as we walked through, I must say, that we did not get any abuse. And we didn’t. We did stop a couple of young men from looting stores.

Well, there are other things I could mention, but that’s the most I can think of at the moment.

Interviewer: I find myself being surprised that there was that sort of a reaction that far north.

CJW: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Plainfield, New Jersey, also had riots. No question about it.

Interviewer: Those were really difficult days.

CJW: Yes, they were.

Interviewer: Things have changed a lot since then.

CJW: And of course, not all the members of our congregations approved it.

Interviewer: Really?

CJW: And we lost some members, but perhaps that’s just as well.

Interviewer: Yes, yes. Well, I’m wondering what I haven’t covered. Can you talk a little bit about what you think you might add to this enquiry about your life and the church and the denominations – is there anything I haven’t covered?

CJW: Well, I think that one of the fine, but also difficult, experiences of it was preparing for the ministry at college and theological school. I had to work; we had enough money to buy a small house, in Canton, New York, where St. Lawrence University is located, but in order to survive, I was janitor in the bank (a bank, there were two banks there). And I would go to the bank at four o’clock in the morning, and work until time to get to an eight o’clock class, and in the afternoon I would come back again and work two or three more hours. It was a grueling schedule, but I guess I was young enough not to have to worry too much about it physically. I do remember, Canton, New York, is cold country in the winter, and I have a distinctive memory of walking to the bank at four o’clock in the morning, with the temperature forty-two below zero, and the wind blowing in my face. I think that had a great deal of bearing on my decision to move to Florida and never touch a snow shovel again.

Interviewer: I think you’re echoing the thoughts of a lot of us. Well, thank you so much, Carl, for this interview, and it’ll be in the church archives I’m sure.

CJW: You’d better check to see if it’s recorded!

Interviewer: Yeah.....

Prayer

April 29, 2001
Sarasota

July 29, 2001
Port Charlotte

The Meaning of Prayer in Human Experience, updated from March 20, 1960, Akron

The first stimulus to this presentation occurred when there popped up on my computer screen a story about a father teaching his daughter Caitlin the Lord’s Prayer. She pronounced each word carefully. Coming to the end, she prayed, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us some E-Mail.”

What is the meaning of prayer in human experience?

If you become irritated to hear such words as prayer, Lord, [or] God, it is OK to tune me out. I have been reliably informed that sometimes a better sermon is heard when one tunes out the pulpit – that is, what one preaches to oneself However, some Scotsman, I do not know if it was David Hume, Thomas Carlyle, or my old friend and mentor, Angus MacLean, who once said that in times of much trouble or peril, even the atheist is permitted one wee prayer.

The second stimulus to this talk was an article in the Sarasota Herald Tribune on January 2, 2001, indicating that many older Americans use prayer to ward off stress. “According to the study, prayer is used more often than exercise, heat, relaxation techniques, humor, or herbal remedies to maintain overall health.” Another sentence from the article, “Seniors who prayed or used other spiritual treatment were also found to use more positive and self-reliant coping strategies.” Is that what prayer is, a ritual or spiritual sedative, Prozac for the mind? A coping mechanism?

The followers of an obscure religious sect in the Far East pray as they stare at their own reflections in a mirror. Is that what prayer is? The contemplation of one's own image?

When Albert Schweitzer was making his third voyage to Africa in 1929, a violent storm occurred while he was busily writing the last chapter of his book on Paul the Apostle. Because the ship pitched too violently for him to write at the little desk in his cabin, Schweitzer kept himself steady while writing by kneeling down with his writing board on the bunk, his feet wedged against the bulkhead. The steward happened to come in, and seeing him in this position said at once, “Oh its not quite as bad as that yet, sir.” Is this what prayer is, assuming the posture and saying the words of prayer when dangerous events seem to threaten our lives and welfare?

Let me repeat an anecdote I told in the LEAP class a few weeks ago. John Greenleaf Whittier once asked Ralph Waldo Emerson what he prayed for. “When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows, and look out at the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive and that I live so near Boston.” Is that what prayer is, thanks for being alive and gratitude for being in a particular geographical location?

Prayer means so many things in human experience that perhaps case studies of some famous prayers may enable some greater grasp of the meaning of prayer. These prayers are not reported on a chronologically progressive basis, but rather we will ado a little moving back and forth historically.

There is a “show me” prayer, variously attributed to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Voltaire, Thomas Paine, and Rousseau:

“Oh God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul.”

St. Augustine in his earlier years could not control his erotic passions and could not live a celibate life. His notorious prayer: “Oh God, save me from sin, but not quite yet.”

Nearly two thousand years before that self-serving prayer, Moses experiencing depressing adversity, prayed in this wise, (Exodus 32/32):

“Alas this people has committed a great sin in that they have made a god of gold for themselves. But now, if thou wilt, forgive their sin; but if not, pray blot me out of thy book.”

About 80 years ago, the minister of the Universalist Church in Gloucester, Massachusetts, who, when requested to deliver the prayer at the inauguration ceremonies of the city government, spoke in so candid and unusual style that his prayer created a sensation state-wide, even nationwide. Dr. Levi Moore Powers, a minister of unusual courage, intellectual power and social passion prayed like this:

“We pray for the retiring mayor. He might have done better and he knows it and now we are sending him to the state house. Help him to be the representative he may be and ought to be.

“We pray for those who must guide our city in the coming year. There is Alderman Daniel Marshall. You know what a good fellow he is and how everybody likes him – the most popular man in town, though there are those who say he needs a stiffer backbone. If that is so, Lord, give him what he needs, and if it is a lie, help him to refute it.

“Then there is Alderman Johnson who needs thy help, Lord. This is a new job for him. But everybody speaks well of him and many who did not know him voted for him because those who know him best said he was all right. May he end this year with this good opinion confirmed and increased.

“Most of all we pray for him honored in being chosen mayor. But we have given him a hard job, Lord. You know very well that the laws of this city have not been well enforced. May he accept this responsibility and not only do his duty, but insist that all those responsible to him do their duty as well.

“Not alone for those we have chosen do we pray, Lord; we pray for ourselves. We confess, Lord, that we are a logy, grouchy set of citizens, most of us. We no sooner elect men to office than we find fault with them. Help us to see that good citizenship is an all-the-year job that cannot be delegated to others.

“We pray for the voters of this city; there are some too lazy to vote but not to lazy to grumble. Bless them. We pray for the citizens who want good streets, good schools, good fire and police protection and good health officers but who wish other people to pay their cost.

“We pray for the business men whose votes are always determined by the expectancy of special favors for themselves. Bless them, if you can. We pray for those who believe that all laws should be enforced except the laws which they do not like or which, if enforced would trouble them.

“We pray for the comfortable who do not care for anything so long as they are left at ease.

“We pray for the political managers who swap votes and sell out their friends and let bad candidates go unopposed.

“We pray for the ministers who say what it is pleasant to hear rather than what is true. We pray for all connected with the newspapers who openly advocate civic righteousness and secretly promote crooked politics.

“We pray for the lawyers who use their knowledge to help those who wish to evade the law and so enable themselves and others to get something for nothing.

“We wish, O God, that these people might be blessed, but perhaps we are asking too much. It may be that the only thing you can do is to let them go to hell.

“Increase our love and devotion to our city. May we be zealous of its good name and prosperity. May wealth, happiness, intelligence and character so increase that the proudest boast we can make shall be that we are men and women of this city. Amen.”

Father Joseph Manton, a Roman Catholic priest of the Redemptorist Order, was one of New England’s most skilled and eloquent preachers, with a radio program that not only his fellow Roman Catholics listened to, but also many others who admired his magnetic speaking skills. I listened whenever I was in the area.

About forty years ago on St. Patrick’s Day, Father Manton delivered the invocation at the breakfast honoring Robert Briscoe, then Lord Mayor of Dublin, Ireland. It was a rare occasion in Boston, when that city so strongly touched by Irish immigrants and even now, the country’s most typical Irish-American cultural area. The piquancy of that St. Patrick’s Day feast was increased by the wonderful fact that Lord Mayor Briscoe was Jewish.

Here are Father Manton's words at that St. Patrick’s festive occasion:

“Almighty God, our good and gracious Father, we find ourselves a bit bewildered this morning. You know that the first President of the Irish Republic was a Protestant; the present Lord Mayor of Dublin is a Jew; the news is going around that the Lakes of Killarney belong to a Yank; and historians keep whispering in our ears that St. Patrick was a Frenchman.

“Help us then this morning to hold high the brimming cup of hospitality to a good and great man and to greet him not as a stranger but as a treasured friend. And, dear God, stay the man up with monumental patience as he heroically endures a hundred toastmasters from here to the West Coast who will gaily imagine that the very fillings in their teeth are fragments of the Blarney Stone, as they ring all the obvious changes on a Jewish Mayor of Dublin. Help the poor man not to be banquet-weary of all these glib attempts to paint a green beard on Moses, or by the end he will be seeing little leprocohens.

“Deliver him, O Lord, this real Irishman who risked his life for the land he loved, from any professional Irishman (with an angle) – there are mercifully very few – but spare him even these; the sham shamrocks, the bogus bogtrotters, the synthetic Sinn Feiners, and especially the extravagant psycho-Patricks who love too loudly through a green haze an Ireland that never was.

“Finally, dear God, bless this man, our friends; and his meal, our food and today let the blessings come down generously even on the English muffins and the orange juice, so that, having broken our fast at the top of the mornin’ we may rise to thank You from the bottom of our hearts. Amen.”

From the indigenous tribes of this continent, whom the European invaders named, “Indians”, came this prayer, “Great Spirit, may I not judge my neighbor until I have walked a mile in his moccasins.”

Then there is a notable prayer uttered nearly 800 years ago by the man whom some have described as the only Christian since Christ, St. Francis of Assisi:

“O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.”

Then there is the 17th century Nun’s Prayer, found in a religious house in Gloucestershire, England:

“Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself, that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

“Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

“I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

“Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint – some of them are so hard to live with – but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so. Amen”

In dealing with these prayers of human experience, there is no analysis of the origin and evolution of prayer. Prayer began with attempts at cosmic bribery as well as cosmic communion. Primitive persons thought God or the gods could be cajoled, bribed or persuaded. Many people today still believe that.

But these prayer examples, as widely different in attitude as in historical placement, deal with some of the meanings of prayer that can touch the sensitivities of our personal experience. No one who has experienced shattering tragedy or terrifying injustice can blame Job’s wife for her prayer of condemnation, “Curse God and die.” There are times when under the overwhelming burdens of events that seem utterly unjust, our prayers are neither thankful, interceding nor adoring. They are protests of indignation. This experience of anger against the cosmos is one of the meanings of prayer, too. It is a vehicle which asserts that the human being has rights of protest.

The prayer of Moses is another aspect of the experience of prayer. Moses had tried to lead his people in ways he believed good; he had tried to persuade them to the worship of Yahveh and to abandon idol worship. When he encountered their falling away from the high ideals and good practices, Moses’ prayer faced facts. Moses felt responsibility for those he was leading. He did not say, “O God I have not made an image like these sinful people.” He prayed, “forgive their sin or blot me out of thy book.” In such self-honesty and sharing of responsibility prayer exalts even moments of sorrow and disillusion.

When Levi Powers shocked and astonished those gathered at the Gloucester inaugural, he illustrated vividly prayer as an experience of social power. He did not pray for the prophets of Israel, but for the politicians of Gloucester; he did not quote the children of Israel about their sins, but bluntly prayed that Gloucester men and women in the 20th century would face up to the conditions of good citizenship. Prayer can be a relevant experience. Unless it is relevant, it is probably idle exercise. Whether in the meditations of solitude or the eloquence of public invocation, prayer as a meaningful experience must be relevant to the condition of the individual and the well-being of all.

hi the third act of Hamlet, Claudius has a brief soliloquy while waiting for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Two lines of that soliloquy apply:

“My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
words without thoughts, never to heaven go.”

Father Manton’s prayer at the breakfast for the Lord Mayor is an appealing example of another aspect of the prayer experience – graciousness. Prayer can illuminate the quality of our experience with words and ways that might be embarrassing in direct dialogue. Prayer helps us build bridges between our differences so that our encounters in human affairs are gentle and appreciative with a proper leaven of laughter.

What can we learn of the Native American’s prayer to the Great Spirit? Be careful in judging other people before you know what they have had to deal with.

A religious columnist reminded his readers that the prayer of St. Francis to console rather than be consoled, to love rather than be loved, is a marvelous example of movement from the passive to the active, “We love, we serve, we give.” It occurred to me last night, thinking back to Don’s fine sermon series on the meaning of life, that those six words aren't too shabby a definition of life: We love, we serve, we give. The older I get, the Nun’s Prayer speaks to me more and more directly. I believe it speaks to everyone who, for example draws a social security check. For sure, I need to heed the precepts and advice of that prayer.

A few years back, I was in someone’s house who kept a shelf of National Geographies. Pulling one out at random, I found an article about which I took extensive notes.

In former years a fishing fleet sailed annually from Portugal to the Grand Banks. During the season, the fishermen fished from dories; then worked back on the vessel slitting and salting the catch. Danger was commonplace and hard work the daily routine. On one of these voyages, Antonio Rodrigues Chaloa, a good doryman from Oporto, was separated from the vessel by the closing in of fog. When a gale came up, Antonio was blown far from the vessel. When five days passed, the captain and shipmates gave him up for lost – one more good man who had gone down to the sea in ships, never to return. Then on the fifth day, Antonio’s dory came into view. So exhausted was he that he had to be lifted from the dory to the vessel. An observer on the voyage asked Antonio about the long, lonely days and nights of danger, storm-tossed and fog-bound. “What did you do?” Antonio replied, “I prayed. I did what I could. Then I prayed and thought of my wife and seven children back in Portugal. The compass was out – that’s why the fog got me. Then during the storm, I anchored and rode to the wind, using my oars to keep the dory headed into it. Often I had to bail for my life when the heavy seas broke over. I was afraid, for my anchor line was only a piece of rope. If it broke, I would be drifted off the banks and out in the open straits. Then I knew I’d be finished.

“But the anchor rope didn’t carry away. I had to row plenty, to keep the dory headed to sea. I made a bit of shelter with the sail. I ate raw cod and I drank the fog moisture wrung out of my woolen cap.” That was all he said after rowing five days and four nights against a gale in order to keep a fourteen-foot dory headed to windward in waters of the Arctic Circle.

He prayed, but he kept the dory headed into the wind. Prayer must include the will to struggle as well as be thankful.

William Inge, Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, England (I believe he died in 1954), once said, “Prayer gives a man the opportunity to know a gentleman he hardly ever meets. I do not mean his Maker, but himself.”

Whether called prayer, meditation, inward determination to focus mind/emotion/ethic, or coming to terms with oneself, or seeing ourselves as we are contrasted to what we could be, whether or not addressed to a particular god or gods, the experience can be one of illumination, communion with the highest we know, a confident step toward mysteries never to be fully revealed and a confrontation of our human condition in all its grandeur and all its misery. It does not matter whether the experience occurs in church, in solitude on one’s knees, striding a busy street, celebrating a public occasion or working at some needed service. The experience will sharpen our consciousness of essentials, recall us to those vital things of most value to living and touch us with both the knowledge and the mystery of the great tides of life in which we are all engulfed.

The Star And The Link

July 9, 2000
Sarasota

[Expanded from the original, dated 1976 and filed under 1979]

Reading: APOSTLE OF LIBERTY, George Akers, p. 70-71 (Jonathan Mayhew)

Thus for example, we ought not to believe that there is, or that there is not a God; that the Christian religion is from God, or an imposture; that any particular doctrine fathered upon it is really contained in it, or not; or that any particular sect of Christians is in the right, or in the wrong; ’til we have impartially examined the matter. And see evidence on one side or the other. For to determine any point without reason or proof cannot be to judge freely, unless it be in a bad sense of the word.

To attempt to dragoon men into sound orthodox Christians, is as unnatural and fruitless as to attempt to dragoon them into good poets, physicians, or mathematicians. A blow with a club may fracture a man’s skull; but I suppose he will not think and reason the more clearly for that; though he may believe more orthodoxly according to the opinions of some.

... We may as well pick our neighbor’s pocket for fear he should spend his money in debauchery, as take from him his right of judging for himself, and chusing his religion, for fear he should judge amiss and abuse his liberty.

Let us all stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free; and not sufer ourselves to any human impositions in religious matters; it is better to throw off the yoke even now, than let it gall us for a life time: it is not too late to assert our liberty, and free ourselves from an ignominious slavery to the dictates of men.

Sermon:

Jonathan Mayhew lived forty-five years between 1720 and 1766. Years after his death, some named him, “The Morning Star of the Revolution”; and a church historian has called him “The link between 18th century Puritan religion and 19th century Unitarianism.” Robert Treat Paine, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, said that Jonathan Mayhew was the “father of civil and religious liberty in Massachusetts and America.”

Surely he ought to be of interest to us. Particularly, because he would have been outraged to be called either “the star” or “the link.” Mayhew was loyal to the British King and British Parliament. In terms of Unitarianism as it developed, Mayhew was passionately opposed to the Arian, Deistic, and Socinian theologies which characterized many 19th century Unitarians. Mayhew would be equally irate at Universalist salvation theology of the time because he believed thoroughly in divine judgment, punishment, and hell.

Jonathan Mayhew was not always consistent with his own deeply-held principles. He preached tolerance, but was guilty of intolerance on more than one occasion. His contemporary, John Adams, who said he had been influenced by Mayhew, said that “a dozen volumes would be required to delineate the character of Jonathan Mayhew.”

Therefore, I am attempting to high-light the life of Jonathan Mayhew – his remarkable family heritage; the religious climates that prevailed in his age, the political influence he had on two continents, even though he was never in his life more than 100 miles from Boston, and the crucial intersections between his religious beliefs, the issues of the day, and how he used his pulpit to energize public opinion.

HIS REMARKABLE FAMILY

When Jonathan Mayhew was born in 1720, he was a fifth generation American. To me, a 1st generation American, born in the twentieth century, I am awed that an early 18th century child was a fifth generation American.

His forbear, Thomas Mayhew, left Tisbury, England, in 1631, one of the astonishing number of 20,000 persons who migrated to Massachusetts in 13 years. In 1641, Thomas Mayhew acquired title to the island of Martha’s Vineyard, 100 miles square. Thomas Mayhew named himself “Governor Mayhew”, with some accuracy because Martha’s Vineyard was the only feudal manor in New England until it was annexed by Massachusetts in 1691.

Martha’s Vineyard was not a deserted island. Living there were 3000 Pokanoket Indians, a branch of the Narragansett tribe.

While Thomas Mayhew Sr. was interested in land and making money from it, his son, Thomas Mayhew Jr., who had emigrated from England with his father, and somehow had received a liberal education, devoted himself to bringing Christianity to the Pokanokets. Thomas Jr. spent the remainder of his life as a missionary on Martha’s Vineyard with remarkable results. By the year 1652, “there were 283 converts, a school for Indian children and two Indian meetings each Sabbath.”

I am not asserting that Christian missionary efforts are a worthy enterprise. These Indians would probably have been better off with their own nature religion. However, I cannot be very harsh on such missionary enterprises when I recall that for years in the Unitarian directory there was listed “The Society for propagating the gospel among Indians and Others.” The 19th and 20th century Unitarians had missionary efforts in India, and the Universalists [had missionary efforts] in Japan.

The Praying Indians, as they were called, became so well-known that by 1649, a London missionary society began to help the Mayhews’ efforts. In 1657, Thomas Jr. was lost at sea on a voyage to raise missionary funds. His father sought a replacement for the missionary work, but finding no one, took on the task himself at the age of 60 and continued in it for 25 years.

Following his death, the family carried on the work. The Mayhew family suffered many deaths – infants, mothers in childbirth, fathers, sisters, and brothers dying too young. The family economic situation deteriorated over the years. But the mission to the Indians was as example of Indian/Colonist goodwill, seldom if ever duplicated. In the bloody King Philip’s War, 1675-76, the Pokanokets, although outnumbering the Europeans 20 to 1 on the island, never attacked. A church historian (Latourette) has written that the “missionary Mayhews represent what is likely the longest and most persistent family missionary endeavor in the annals of all Christianity.”

From this island heritage, Jonathan Mayhew, son of Experience Mayhew, great grandson of Governor Mayhew, arrived at Harvard in 1740 to be educated. He was not committed to the ministry then; that call came later in his Harvard years.

During his college years the New England theological kettle was bubbling with sermonic debate. The Monday newspapers printed full sermons preached the day before. Religious news was daily fare such as the astrological predictions and Ann Landers’ column are today. For the remainder of his life, Jonathan Mayhew was to increase the heat to boiling controversies.

THE RELIGIOUS CLIMATE THAT PREVAILED

From its beginnings, the Massachusetts Bay Colony had been Calvinist in its theology. The five points of Calvinism were (a summary perhaps oversimplified):

1) Absolute predestination
2) Particular redemption
3) Total depravity
4) Irresistible grace
5) The perseverance of saints

By Mayhew’s time, this tightly woven theological system showed some signs of unraveling. The rationalistic writings of Isaac Newton, John Locke, and other Deists were being read and discussed at Harvard. Biblical revelation as the complete and unerring word of God was no longer believed by some to be as seamless and complete tapestry.

As much as Rationalism, Arminianism had been threatening Calvinism. The liberals, among whom Jonathan Mayhew could be numbered by the time he finished Harvard and decided to become a minister, were increasingly Arminian, supra-rational and hedging on the doctrine of the Trinity. [Of] Arminianism, Conrad Wright, a Unitarian Universalist historian wrote, “Arminianism asserted that men are born with the capacity both for sin and for righteousness; that they can respond to the impulse toward holiness as well as the temptation to do evil; and that life is a process of trial and discipline by which, with the assistance God gives to all, the bondage to sin may gradually be overcome ....

“Supernatural rationalism asserted that unassisted reason can establish the essentials of religion: the existence of God, the obligations of morality, and a divine order of rewards and punishments.”

But unlike Deism, it insisted that natural religion must be supplemented with a special revelation of God’s will – the Bible.

“Finally the liberals tended to be anti-Trinitarian, largely because they were convinced that the doctrine of the Trinity was not scriptural.... They were not ‘Unitarian’, since only a small minority believed in the simple humanity of Jesus.”

Quite apart from Harvard’s heady intellectual climate, Jonathan Mayhew’s father, Experience Mayhew, was Arminian in his thought. He found in his mission work with the Pokanokets on the island that it was impossible to teach the complexities of Calvinism to the Indians. A God who chooses to save only a portion of mankind (His elect) could not be the basis of a widespread appeal to the Indians to become Christian and to give up their “pagan” ways. Experience taught them, “all that truly believe in Christ, Christ will save, Indians or English, high or low, bond or free.”

Although Jonathan Mayhew had some initial difficulty locating a church, in 1747 he was elected minister of West Church, Boston, a most desirable pulpit. The parish was largely composed of rising, prosperous merchants. Mayhew's salary was set at £15 a week, plus a full woodbox and house rent – a very comfortable salary package for that time.

Most of his Calvinistic colleagues shunned him because of his liberal views. Only a few would exchange pulpits with him, an important practice of the day. [CJW note: 3 sermons] One hundred years later, this was to happen to Theodore Parker when his Unitarian ministerial brethren refused to exchange pulpits.

One anecdote how some people detested Mayhew’s unorthodox preaching: While still a teen-ager, Paul Revere attended a service where Mayhew spoke. Paul’s enthusiasm for the sermon “resulted in a beating by his strict father, fearful that young Paul would stray into heresy.” The sermon that caused Paul Revere to be thrashed may have been one of the character inputs that years later, in 1775, motivated Paul Revere to make his famous ride awakening every Middlesex village and town that the British were coming.

Significant from the point of view of our theme of the Star and the Link were Jonathan Mayhew’s plain, bold statements on the right and duty of free inquiry, private judgment and liberty.

POLITICAL INFLUENCE AND THE INTERSECTION OF RELIGIOUS BELIEFS AND THE ISSUES OF MAYHEW’S TIME

While Mayhew always based his social commentary on scriptural foundations, inevitably because he spoke boldly, he was politically controversial. In 1750, he preached on “Unlimited submission and non-resistance to higher powers.” [CJW note: scroll Google] He cited the English traditions of the Puritan Revolution off 1642 and the Glorious Revolution of 1688 as the right of citizens to “rid their nation of a ruler who does not govern for the common good.” It was the most important defense of the right of revolution to be plainly said in the American Colonies prior to 1776. One sentence was memorable: “Rulers have no authority from God to do mischief.”

[CJW note - “ ‘Divine’ right of kings – quote Charles I: ‘The state of monarchy is the supremest thing upon earth: for kinds are not only God’s lieutenants, and set upon God’s throne, but even by God himself are called gods.’ ”]

Mayhew also infuriated the growing Anglican Church in the Colonies by denouncing Bishops and leading the fight to prevent the settling of an Anglican Bishop in Massachusetts. That such an attitude infringed upon Anglican’s liberty to have a resident Bishop if they wanted one, deterred Mayhew’s attack not at all. His fear that the alliance of Crown and surplice in Massachusetts would destroy the freedom tradition outranked his belief in religious liberty. There were other inconsistencies in his polemics. But through his preaching, along with others who supported this point of view, the British Parliament and the King were influenced – they desisted in the attempt to appoint an Anglican Bishop for Massachusetts. They feared, and rightly so, that the political cost would be too great.

The last ten years of Mayhew’s life were continuously controversial – religious and political. He attacked the Calvinistic concepts of original sin and the Trinity. He taught that Adam and Eve sinned, but since they were the only violators, they alone were guilty. Furthermore that it was unjust and impossible for God to impute the sins of their parents to posterity. Such was not agreeable to truth, reason, or scripture. Therefore Christ’s atoning death was unnecessary. He still believed in Christ’s atonement, but this was a logical weakness in his theology. It was not only what he said, a few others were also saying these things, but in the way he said it – plainly, boldly, argumentatively.

Politically, Britain and France were fighting for possession of the North American continent. When had history ever offered a richer prize? Mayhew used his pulpit as a sounding board for Holy War. To him, France was both a tyrant and the champion of Romish superstition, “forces of the devil seeking to enslave both religiously and politically.” He reviewed the progress of the war in his sermons and gloated in the fall of Quebec.

Today, it may seem somewhat bizarre, if not immoral, that Mayhew should also remind his congregation frequently how good business was in wartime. But his congregation was largely comprised of merchants who prospered under war conditions. His biographer noted, “Seldom in the annals of Christendom had righteousness and profits seemed so indissolubly welded.”

Mayhew was loyal to England and praised the coronation of King George III.

Then came sparks that would eventually ignite the fuse of the American Revolution—the Writs of Assistance – the right to search for contraband and smuggled goods, which the Colonists merchants insisted was a violation of the fundamental property rights, with which Jonathan Mayhew publicly and eloquently agreed.

The Stamp Act of 1765 became a serious and inflammatory constitutional issue. British taxation without representation became obnoxious in Massachusetts. Mobs gathered and hung the English Governor in effigy. Then Mayhew preached on Sunday, August 25, 1765 (texts existing may be inaccurate). His text was from Galatians, V 12/13: “Ye have been called unto liberty.” The next evening, Monday, the mobs struck again, attacking the homes of customs officers, destroying records, looting and destroying the house of the Lieutenant Governor. Many believed, including English officials, that Mayhew’s sermon was the incendiary cause. An Episcopal clergyman wrote the Archbishop in England, “one of the most seditious sermons ever delivered, advising the people to stand up for their rights even to the last drop of blood.” !!!

Mayhew was shocked that he should be so accused. There was even some talk of transporting him to England for trial on charges of sedition. Pitt, the English Prime Minister, wisely decided that to attempt that would really inflame the Colonies. If they
did not know clearly then, who can tell now that Mayhew set off the riots? Whatever he said may have been as much in the tone, spontaneous gestures, and inflections he used as much as the actual text.

Anyway, the Stamp Act was repealed. When the notice arrived, there was the largest celebration in Boston's history – a 23 hour party with wine supplied abundantly by John Hancock, a wealthy merchant then, later the first signer of the Declaration of Independence.

But no revolution yet, for there were cheers for King and Parliament because they repealed the Stamp Act. But Parliament had reserved the right to legislate for the Colonies.

I have said nothing about Jonathan Mayhew’s happy marriage. This would be an important episode if there were Mayhew Chronicles as a few years ago there were the Adams Chronicles. Mayhew’s one surviving daughter, Elizabeth, married Peter Wainwright. Their first son was named Jonathan Mayhew Wainwright. Since then, the oldest son of the oldest son has always carried the name. Among them, JMW became an eminent Episcopal clergyman, who at the time of his death in 1854 was probably the most famous Episcopalian in the U. S. – Bishop JMW of New York. How ironic, when his grandfather had successfully been instrumental in preventing the King from naming and settling an Anglican Bishop in Massachusetts. Those who memories go back to World War II will remember General Jonathan Mayhew Wainwright, the hero of Corregidor. He was the fifth in the line to bear the name.

In 1766, three months before his 46th birthday, Jonathan Mayhew took ill, and died in a few days. The funeral procession was the longest Boston had ever seen.

Jonathan Mayhew was not a great original thinker. His logic was sometimes imprecise. He was influenced by European rational and Arminian thought. His theology was a link to later Unitarianism, although he would have been appalled at such coupling, and would have delivered a caustic, hostile sermon about it. His political thought, as well as his religious thought, was influenced by Thomas Hollis, a wealthy Colonist who constantly sent Mayhew books, particularly on political liberties as well as rational philosophical thought. Mayhew was not always ready to grant to others the privileges he claimed for himself. But thoroughly consistent heroes have never lived.

But Mayhew’s religious and political zeal was based on liberty, experience, inquiry, the right of private judgment, all undergirded by passionate convictions – guidelines which can serve all the rest of us inconsistent souls – at least until something better comes along –and that’s not likely.

Our second President, John Adams, when old in years, long retired, rich in honors, but still strong of mind and passionate for the United States, said, 68 years after he heard Mayhew’s sermon on unlimited submission, “If 4th of July orators really wish to investigate the feelings which produced the American Revolution, then that’s the sermon to read.”

[Postscript – from Abraham Lincoln]

We are a mighty nation and as we run our memory back over the pages of history, we find a race of men whom we claim as our fathers.

They were iron men, and we understand that by what they did it has followed that the degree of prosperity which we enjoy has come to us.

They were pillars of the temple of liberty; and now that they have crumbled away, that temple must fall unless we, their descendants, supply their places with other pillars hewn from the solid quarry of sober reason.

Passion has helped us, but can do so no more; it will in the future be our enemy. Reason must furnish all the materials for our future support and defense.

The sentiment in the Declaration of Independence gave liberty to the people of this country, and hope to all the world.

Let us readopt the Declaration of Independence and [with it] the practices and policy which harmonize with it.

Let all Americans, let all lovers of liberty everywhere, join in the great and good work.

The Good Old Days? They Were Not That Good!

April 25, 1999
Tarpon Springs

May 9, 1999
Sarasota

[Editor’s Note: This is a sermon, based on a March 1, 1994 musing]

In order to solve the problems of crime, corruption and education, we are frequently exhorted to return to a time when Christian religion prevailed because that faith was the foundation of our nation. A typical paragraph from a letter to the Editor is representative of the attitude of many fundamentalist Christians:

“Our nation was founded by godly people seeking to further their Christian faith, and God wondrously blessed and sustained their efforts, and those of succeeding generations. We must realize that we compromise and reject our founding values at great peril to our nation.”

Somehow, many people seem to believe our problems can be solved by returning to a world that never was. The ancient Greeks believed in a Golden Age. Hesiod wrote, “They lived like Gods, free from worry and fatigue; old age did not afflict them; they rejoiced in continual festivity.” They were not immortal but they died as “though overcome by sweet slumber. All the blessings of the world were theirs, the fruitful earth gave forth its treasures unbidden. At their death they became guardians and teachers of the living.”

That Golden Age never existed. There never was a pre-”sin” Paradise in a Garden of Eden either. Such beliefs were never founded in historical fact, but on dissatisfaction with given circumstances, frustration with social problems that seemed unsolvable, perhaps as methods of social control, or attempts to explain mysteries about the human condition.

We do face massive and complex problems with crime, poverty, education, taxes, downsizing/unemployment, dealing with how to pay for doctors, hospitals, prescriptions, insurance premiums (whether you call it a crisis or not.) It is a PROBLEM when you face it; it is a CRISIS when I face it. However to believe that today’s vexing, frustrating issues would be solved by a return to the beliefs and actions of the “Founding Fathers” is to lend validity to a nostalgic glow which is artificially lighted.

For example, in the book BOSTON OBSERVED, written by an old friend and fellow Universalist minister, Carl Seaburg, he quotes a letter written by a visitor from England, Edward Ward, in the year, 1699:

“....(Boston) is the metropolis of all New-England. The Houses in some parts joyn as in London. The buildings, like their women, being neat and handsome. And the streets, like the hearts of the male inhabitants, are paved with pebble.

“The inhabitants seem very Religious, showing many outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace. But tho’ they wear in their Faces the innocence of Doves, you will find them in their dealings, as Subtile as Serpents. Interest is their Faith, Money their God, and Large Possessions the only Heaven they covet.

“Election, Commencement and Training-days, are their only Holy-days; they keep no Saints Days, nor will they allow the Apostles to be Saints, yet they assume that Sacred Dignity to themselves; and say, in the Title Page of their Psalm-Book, ‘Printed for the edification of the Saints in Old and New England.’

“They have been very severe against adultery, which they have punish’d with Death; yet, notwithstanding the harshness of their Law, the Women are of such noble souls, and undaunted Resolutions that they will run the hazard of being Hang’d, rather than not be reveng’d on Matrimony, or forbear to discover the Corruption of their own natures.”

Edward Ward observed the Bostonians’ widespread religious hypocrisy and greed for money and possessions (“Money was their God”). His paragraph on adultery was a gentle but candid observation of sexual promiscuity. Typical, however, is his implicit condemnation of women, but not their necessary male partners. Would we really solve our problems by such materialism, morals, and manners?

In the same 17th century, a Quaker, Mary Dyer, was executed, hanged on Boston Common for religious heresy and protest. Anne Hutchinson and Roger Williams were expelled from the Colony because they were religious dissenters. The late 17th century also witnessed the hysterical, infamous Salem witch trials, when 20 women and one man were executed.

In Great Britain, the cruelties in mine and mill in the expanding mercantile era are almost beyond belief. The work-day ran from 12 to 15 hours a day, 6 days a week. Most sickening and disgusting of all, children as young as five or six were full-time workers in mill and mine.

In mines where the passages might have been only 18” high, little boys and girls, crawling on all fours, hitched to small coal carts struggled through. Infant mortality? Half of ALL children born in the cities of GB died before reaching the age of six. In many cities, 1/3 to ½ of all infants were illegitimate. Women were forced into prostitution in order to eat, left their newborn infants in corners, or smothered them, or left them at the door of an orphanage. They utterly despaired of feeding them and housing them. Mother’s Day? Every day for them was grief and shame and suffering.

This was a period when the owners and entrepreneurs thoroughly believed in the economic law of supply and demand. If costs went up, demand would decline. Therefore, cheapest labor. Not to speak of the conclusion of some, that terrible, deadly living conditions were an acceptable form of population control. And these were Christians in a Christian nation. This was a time when a person could be indicted, jailed, fined, ostracized for publicly denying the doctrine of the Trinity, the deity of Christ or the miraculous physical Resurrection. But there was no law or prevailing opinion to halt the cruel and deathly exploitation of children and women for profit.

Similar conditions prevailed here in mine and mill. Do you recall Sarah Cleghorn’s bitter lines written before child labor laws were enacted in our country?

“The golf links lie so near the mill
That almost every day
The laboring children can look out
And see the men at play.”

Good Old Days? I don't know about you, but I would NOT want a return of such cruelty, malice, exploitation, intolerance and ignorance. In spite of all the numerous letters to editors, NONE of our problems would be solved.

Furthermore, I believe that the last thing the Christian right-wing would want is a return to the religious beliefs of “Founding Fathers.” Washington, Jefferson, Monroe, Adams, Tom Paine were Deists. Briefly and perhaps over-simplified, Deists believed in a God of Nature, who in the beginning set up a Universe governed by natural laws – clockwork was a favorite analogy. But this God of Nature did not interfere in the affairs of humankind to damn or save anyone. Deism represented a substantially different and heretical theology from the Christian gospel of the Atonement, Trinity and Resurrection. You can look it up, as they say.

What do you think of this description of our world: “This is the present: everything is tottering, immeasurably confused, tumultuous, unmanageable. Everything is debased, exhausted, past hope.” Is that a quote from Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson? No, that was written by J. G. Drysen, a German historian in the 1840s.

One more quotation, who do you think said this, “How does it become a man to behave toward this American government today? I answer that he cannot without disgrace be associated with it.” Was that Ross Limbaugh, Pat Buchanan, Ross Perot, Ken Starr? None of these, it was Henry David Thoreau in 1848.

We learn from history if we are aware of it and are not beguiled by nostalgic falsehoods or non-historical myths. Our social problems are formidable. We need all the help we can muster. Helena, in ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, says,

“Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie
Which we ascribe to Heaven; the fated sky
Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull
Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.”

We are no longer sparsely populated colonies with unlimited natural resources but a nation of nearly three hundred million people. There is no “going West” for pioneers any more. There are no longer deep-soiled prairies waiting for a first plowing. In the larger cities there is an inner core of overcrowding, pollution, hopelessness. Easy answers are unrealistic. To mention just one, there is an illogical conclusion to the continuous building of more prison cells. Are to become a nation comprised of the jailed and the jailers?

Then, too, consider the continuous discussion about health care programs – and the failed effort in Congress a few years ago. We know opposition is heavily financed – not only health, but big dollar opposition to issues of ecology, pollution, and so on. I suggest a simple question when looking at fierce opposition to what seems to be progressive legislation – WHO BENEFITS? Who will make the Big Bucks?

Joseph Califano, who was a political force in the Lyndon Johnson era, speaking about fierce Congressional quarrels about health programs, said, “When you toss trillions of dollars up in the air, the pushing, shoving, fighting for it is going to be brutal with no holds barred. Do you think the ignoring by Congress of something like the Canadian plan has anything to do with the probability that the Big Bucks, the trillions would not be there for the special interests?”

On that and other issues, when you read or do the TV news, why not ask yourself, “Who benefits?”

I do not have unqualified answers. Today, I am not proposing or arguing for particular positions. But in spite of gloomy appraisals, there are positive indications. Violent crime is decreasing; women and minorities are getting increasing recognition, although the task is far from complete. The “Welcoming Church” principle, if we persist, can be contagious enough to sow the seeds of a Welcoming Nation.

But, with all our prized individuality we need a stronger sense of community. Many are disgusted with politics, special interests, ridiculous excess in campaign money-raising and spending.

If you are one of those, like I am, who remember the 30s and 40s, who were there, you know that the sense of community worked in the Depression and WW2; we knew we were all in those tough times together. Think about this: The Lone Ranger never rode alone.

Turned off, too many people do not vote. In the recent election in Sarasota County, the voter turn-out was between 10 and 15%. But the remedy is not to turn away from politics but become more involved. I know so many of you here today are socially responsible, that I’m aware I’m preaching to the Choir. But do not let him or her who says to you, “I’m too disgusted to vote” go unchallenged. The answer to bad politics is better politics. I believe that if there were a 75 to 80% turnout of eligible voters in municipal, county, state, national elections, our legislative representatives at all levels would be compelled to new perspectives of responsibilities in their duties. They would think twice or thrice before becoming the acquiescent agents of special interests. Is a rising tide of civic involvement too much to hope and work for?

One of my fondest hopes is that around the year 2075, my great-great grandchildren and yours and their peers all over the Planet will look back on us and say, “The good old days, they were not that good.” Why will they say that? Because there will have been substantial progress in alleviating pollution, overpopulation, health problems, ethnic hates and wars.

But that can happen only if in OUR time the ounces of OUR weight are in the arena of humane concerns with an ever-rising consciousness that we are all in this together; that we will be adding some building stones for a better present and future.

If any wish to do further reading, or check my references, the following is suggested:

IN THE BEGINNING, THE ADVENT OF THE MODERN AGE, Jerome Blum, Scribner’s, New York, 1994

BLASPHEMY, Leonard Levy, Knopf, 1993

SAGA OF ENGLAND: 1840-1940, Sir Arthur Bryant

REASON TO BELIEVE, Mario Cuomo, Simon and Schuster, 1995. Also his speech to the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, earlier in 1999.

The Dangers And Hopes Of Universalism

February 22, 1998
Sarasota

I want to discuss this subject with you, but first you need to know my bias. I have been a Unitarian Universalist 37 years since consolidation of the two denominations. Before that I was a Unitarian for 4 years, two of which I was unaware, being an infant from birth to 2; and two years as a layman in a struggling little Unitarian church in Massachusetts. I was 45 years a Universalist, as a boy, as a layman, as a minister.

I’m particularly conscious of this today as we celebrate Helen Harwood’s 100th birthday, because her father was the teacher who was the strongest influence in my adult life. John Murray Atwood was Dean of the Universalist theological school at St. Lawrence University. I was fortunate enough to be one of his students.

He was a superb teacher. When I was there he taught theology, Greek, and parliamentary law; other years he taught Biblical languages and literature and sociology of religion. But more than his scholarship, he was generous, forgiving and wise. I will never forget how he accepted a student who had been expelled from Tufts; he believed in giving a second chance. That student was a friend of mine. We traveled together to Canton for the interview with the Dean. [CJW note: he accepted me – unpromising ... + so to speak here I am]

Helen, you know and I know that your father was one of the most admired and trusted leaders of Universalism in the 1st half of the Twentieth Century.

Thus, as some of you describe yourself as Unitarian, not Unitarian Universalist, so too, I am sometimes neglectful and identify myself as Universalist because Universalism has characterized so many years of my life and thought. Furthermore, Universalist is a much more accurate description of my personal religious philosophy.

First, I want to make a brief summary of Universalism as a theological position. Then, present instances where Universalism was a bad idea. Then outline its theological evolution in the 20th century which incorporates hope for our human venture in this world where so much intolerance, war, and misery have occurred.

Universalism was a simple theological foundation for belief, even though it was disturbing and heretical to the other religions. God was too good to damn any of his creatures to Hell forever. God must at least be as kind and loving as the worst parent; and what parent would consent and send a child to burn in hell forever? In other words all souls would be saved.

In prior years, after that brief explanation, I would be asked, “What do Universalists believe?” I would answer usually in this fashion: Universalists do not believe alike in many ways. We differ. The proper question is, “How do Universalists arrive at their beliefs?” From where I stood, and stand, one can assume that there is acceptance of tested truth accumulated and continuously refined and amended by the historian, the geologist, biologist, astronomer, physicist, social scientist, practitioners of other learned professions. The Universalist believes reason to be a guide and validates propositions through experience and experiment. All theologies are interpretations of experience, not
divine revelations. The worth and dignity of all persons as the highest values. The Universalist looks with hope, still, on the nature and destiny of the human venture in spite of calamitous and cruel events.

But there are dangers; and sometimes Universalism can be a bad idea. What is bad about Universalism? When it is coerced. In a recent book, THE CURSE OF CAIN by Regina Schwartz, the author states the case succinctly: “Universalism comes in different shapes, as an ideal of genuine tolerance, as an effort to protect universal rights and as a kind of imperialism that insists we are all one and that demands an obliteration of differences.”

Universalism is bad when it is an imperialism. The major religions of Western culture have such a history, and a bloody, cruel, and intolerant history it is. Catholic means universal. In many centuries the Catholic church was coercive – believe with us or be damned. There were the persecutions and tortures of the Inquisition, the hypocrisy and the bloodshed of the Crusades. Mass killings of heretics was praiseworthy.

Protestants were hardly more generous. Len Peck’s fine and scholarly sermon on Servetus was a pertinent reminder. In England under Henry VIII, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth I, the Protestants and Catholics took turns persecuting, torturing and killing each other.

Much of this found sanction in words attributed to Jesus, although most scholars say the verse was a late addition to the gospel by the early church (Matthew 28/19) “Go therefore and MAKE disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father [and] of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

In Islam’s early centuries, the followers of Mohammed forcibly converted the peoples where their militant warriors invaded.

Even the religion of the Hebrews came to a Universalism which was imperialistic. They invaded Canaan, not their land, killing and slaughtering.

Look at Deuteronomy 7/5: “...you must utterly destroy them; you shall make no covenant with them, and show no mercy to them. . . .you shall break down their altars and dash in pieces their pillars and burn their graven images.”

Even the splendid and poetic Universalism found in Micah and Isaiah has the aroma of imperialism, “Come to the house of Jacob’s God; and he may instruct us in his ways....” Y’all come, but you MUST worship OUR God.

When the Puritans came to this country and seized land and got rid of the Indians, the natives, they justified it by the biblical example of the Hebrews seizing Canaan, showing no mercy to the people who lived there.

A Universalism that is THEM against US is bad. An imperialistic Universalism of any variety will never create a world that is free and fair.

Why, then, did some of us become Universalist ministers? In the 20th century, much of it within my personal memory and experience, theological Universalism had lost much of its power. Most of the mainline Christian churches had quit preaching Hell and brimstone. (The revival of fundamentalism, particularly in the Southern states, in recent decades would hardly have been predictable in the first half of this century.)

There was not much agitation among us over the growth of scientific thought, including evolution theories. The higher criticism of the Bible made both Unitarians and Universalists aware that scripture was not the inerrant word of God, but rather the religious literature of Judaism and Christianity. Heaven and Hell become referred to more as allegory or metaphor than reality. When we experienced frustration or problems, we would say, “That’s the Hell of it.” Right? Years ago, a Christian minister defined Hell this way, “the self-defeating nature of the egocentric life.” That’s a long way from burning in hell forever or Dante’s vivid images.

In my experience, Universalism went through many of the same conflicts and controversies as Unitarian in the first half of this century. We experienced the same conflict between theism and humanism as did the Unitarians. We each debated whether or not we were a Christian denomination. Fortunately, tolerance and acceptance prevailed. Helen’s father, defending the freedom clause in Universalist principles, wrote “Not that a man may do as he pleases, but that he may be true to the vision HE has gained on the Sinai HE has climbed.”

So some of us became Universalist ministers in the 30s and 40s, not because of the “No Hell” Universalism, although some felt the old beliefs still relevant. Rather, it seemed to some of that Universalism was the BIG IDEA; the worth and dignity of every person had become the main plank in our religious platform. Not that we expected that millions of Christians, Jews, Moslems, Buddhists would become Universalists. Rather, respect for the rights of others demanded that we acknowledge, advocate and protect the right of all persons to choose the faith that would sustain them. That was the Big Idea. Imperialism of any kind was the Bad Idea.

Before I close, a word of explanation: Some may have heard of Billy Sunday. 80 or more years ago, he was a popular, evangelistic preacher, the Jerry Falwell or Jimmy Swaggart of his day. When 100,000 dollars is referred to, it would probably be a million today.

Dr. Levi Moore Powers, from 1913 to 1919, was minister of our Gloucester Universalist Church and one of the noted preachers of his day – courageous and unafraid to criticize establishment forces. 80 or more years ago he was preaching on the need for a national health insurance plan; he defended the right of workers to organize and strike, he was an advocate of the League of Nations. In a sermon preached about 1919, he said, “The only adequate faith is that which will make the world brotherly, and that is a genuine belief that we are brothers, all children of a Father who has no favorites. Billy Sunday says that belief in the Universal Brotherhood of Man is ‘bosh’ and ‘tommyrot’ and those who live by the faith that Billy Sunday preaches reward their faithful servant by giving him fifty or one hundred thousand dollars a year for proclaiming his ungodly gospel.

“But we have not so learned Christ. There is an Eastern proverb which says, ‘I met a hundred men on the road to Delhi and they were all my brothers.’ That old heathen was more of a Christian than Billy Sunday. Universalism teaches that every man we meet on our journey from the cradle to the stars is our brother, and when we are big enough to understand our own faith, and great enough to live it, the future will be ours.”

I am not a Christian theist as was Levi Powers. Today we use more gender-free language. After all, he spoke those words more than 78 years ago. Yet, if we too sensed more deeply and proclaimed more fearlessly that every man, woman, and child we meet on our journey from the cradle to the stars is our brother or sister, and when we are big enough to understand our own faith and great enough to live it, the future may not be ours, but it will be the way, and perhaps the only way, as we join millions of others of whatever faith who share the dream, that this pained, conflicted world may be saved from destroying itself in a Hell of human making.

The Curious Curse Of Cain

July 29, 1997
Sarasota

(Genesis 4 1/25)

The story of Cain’s murder of Abel has several odd aspects, including the curious punishment the Lord pronounced on Cain: “you shall be banned from the soil, which opened its mouth wide to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. If you till soil, it shall no longer yield its strength to you. You shall become a ceaseless wanderer on the earth.”

In this theme of “The Curious Curse of Cain” there are several points I submit for your consideration:

1) How the myth of Cain and Abel demonstrates that the ancient scriptures we call the Old Testament or the Hebrew Scriptures, particularly Genesis, are not a single document, without error, revealed by God, but a blending of ancient myths and legends from pre-historic tribes with unlike legends and cultures.

2) Then I would have you consider the difficulty of using scripture as a source of legal or religious authority with which, or by which, to judge alleged criminal acts.

3) Then I will use this old story as a bridge to our own times to ask whether in this modern, enlightened nation, as we attempt to deter homicides, we become confused and illogical as our emotions are whipsawed between justice and revenge.

First, the ancient scripture named “Genesis” – the story of beginnings – is not a single narrative but a blend of several ancient traditions. Almost all biblical scholars agree on that interpretation. The scholarly arguments deal with which stories are part of which of the 3 or 4 ancient cultural/religious deposits, usually named J, E, D, [and] P. Robert Pfeiffer, who was a noted bible scholar at Harvard, and whose textbook was used when I was studying these traditions, concluded that the Cain and Abel story was one of the stories from the “S” tradition (for “Seir”), coming from primitive tribes then located in Edom, near the Dead Sea.

The Cain and Abel story may have its origins in a saga of continuing feuds between nomadic Bedouins and settled agricultural peasants. The flocks of sheep and goats tended by Abel would be more characteristic of wandering tribes. Cain, a tiller of soil, represented a more settled agricultural culture.

When Cain and Abel brought their respective offerings to the Lord – Cain, an offering of the fruit of the soil; Abel, the choicest of his lambs – the Lord rejected Cain’s gift and accepted Abel’s. When the brothers had gone to the field, Cain angered by rejection, killed Abel. (A modern parallel may be the 19th century conflicts in the Western U.S. between ranchers and farmers, which at times were lawless, vicious, and murderous.)

The Lord, when he finds out about the murder of Abel, pronounces a curse on Cain, [and] tells him he will never be able to grow crops, and says, “You shall become a ceaseless wanderer on earth.” In addition, the Lord places a mark on Cain so that no one will kill him. The Lord, in this strand of tradition at least, did not believe in or practice capital punishment for murder. So Cain is banished.

Elie Wiesel, survivor of the Holocaust (in which he lost his father, mother, and sister), winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, and prolific author with great impact not only on Jewish thought but millions of persons in other traditions, in his book, MESSENGERS OF GOD, deals with Cain and Abel and comments (p. 40) “No other Biblical situation contains so many questions or arouses so many uncertainties.”

Wiesel asks many questions – each one formidable enough for a forum – where were the parents in this confrontation? Why did God favor Abel’s gift over Cain’s? He also comments that there is less Midrashic material (commentary) about Cain and Abel than any other Biblical figures.

My assertion, as a father to two sons, would be that you don’t reject one son’s gifts and accept the others – no way – not unless you are a stupid or vicious or unbalanced parent.

The curse is curious. As Alice in Wonderland said about her experiences, it gets “curiouser and curiouser.” There’s an “O Henry” twist or surprise ending. We read in the old story that Cain does NOT become a wanderer. He settled in the Land of Nod, “East of Eden”. Cain marries. Who is the woman if Adam and Eve were the first persons on earth? That has always been a provocative question for those who believe in the literal inerrancy of the Bible.

In the famous Scopes evolution trial in 1924, when Clarence Darrow was cross-examining William Jennings Bryan about the literal truth of the Bible, Darrow asked Bryan if he knew where Cain got his wife. Bryan answered, “No, I leave the agnostics to hunt for her.” That was a clever and crowd pleasing response, but ducked the question completely. Where did the people come from who lived in the city founded by Cain?

Did you ever wonder why Cain settled down and founded a city rather than becoming the ceaseless wanderer to which he had been sentenced? Why didn’t the Lord extradite Cain for violating parole? I assume the Lord couldn’t extradite because the Land of Nod was out of his jurisdiction; a different theological venue. The varying tribal cultures all had their own god or gods. All gods are jealous gods, I surmise, – emotional creatures.

There are fascinating developments in the city and culture of Cain. His great-great-great-grandson was Lamech, who was the first bigamist recorded in scriptures, for it says, “Lamech had two wives, Adah and Zillah.” By the way, there is no condemnation of Lamech for having two wives.

According to scripture, the children of Cain, Adah and Zillah, were remarkable. Jabal was the “ancestor of those who dwell in tents and amidst herds.” Jubal was the ancestor of all who play the pipe and lyre. Tubal-Cain began the art of metal working; and later became part of the Masonic tradition.

In other words, if one believes the Bible literally, the descendants of Cain, the Kenites, were the innovators of music, settled cities, the pastoral life and metal-working. That’s quite a heritage from Cain, who killed his brother and was cursed by the Lord. After all, according to many fundamentalists, “that’s what the Bible says.”

Lamech was not persuaded from his tradition that murder was evil. He orated to Adah and Zillah his wives,

“I have slain a man for wounding me
And a lad for bruising me.
If Cain is avenged seven-fold,
Then Lamech seventy-seven fold.”

Lamech represents a culture centuries removed from the more primitive days. Of course, the founding of cities, music, metal working did not begin in just one place, but among many peoples on the earth. The stories of Cain in the Land of Nod are the passed-down boasts of a tribal culture which was clever with tools, valued music, and was brutally fierce with its enemies.

Which brings me to the next point: There is great difficulty in using scripture either as the source for a standard of morals or for the proper dispensing of justice.

The Ten Commandments (Exodus 20 1/17) represent the most famous code of conduct in the Judeo-Christian heritage, even though the stated rules have been persistently broken by countless individuals and most nations. The 6th Commandment is usually quoted, “thou shalt not kill.” In some translations it is, “thou shalt not murder.” This would seem to exempt the soldier in war, the policeman on duty or a person defending a home because the intention is not to murder but to take action in fidelity to one’s pledge, duty or self-protection.

But such exemptions would not seem to apply to such death penalty offences as:

“He that curseth his father, or his mother, shall surely be be put to death.” (Exodus 21:12 14/07)

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” (Exodus 22 v. 18)

“Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day, a sabbath rest unto the Lord: whosoever doeth work therein shall be put to death.”

“The man that commiteth adultery with another man’s wife, the adulterer, and the adulteress shall be put to death.” (Leviticus 20, 1/16)

“He that stealeth a man and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall be surely put to death.”

You may recall the rather indelicate story of Onan (Genesis 38/30) who was killed by the Lord for practising birth control. If true then, or could be true now, there would be a goodly number of millions subject to capital punishment. Just about every man, guys.

There are many other offences punishable by death found in these old scriptures. These cruel punishments are supposed to be The Word of God. But also, the same god that pronounced, “thou shalt not kill (or murder)”.

The Lord, who paroled Cain in Genesis 4, is certainly inconsistent with the harsh god of Leviticus and parts of Exodus. In the curious curse of Cain also, Cain is quoted as saying, “my punishment is greater than I can bear.” That line has been the text for innumerable sermons about the destructive powers of remorse and guilt. But, as we have seen, Cain not only could bear it, but founded a city and a long line of creative and fierce descendants, one of whom became a role model and hero for the distinguished Masonic order. That’s another O Henry twist.

Throughout the ages there have been many offences punishable by execution. In 1994 Congress added the death penalty for more crimes: drug felonies and drive-by shootings. In our country, murder and treason are punishable by death. In recent weeks, Timothy McVeigh has raised the national consciousness of the death penalty. There was satisfaction when the jury decreed he must die. The overwhelming sentiment and belief is that it is proper and just that he should die for the terrible crime for which he was found guilty.

Since the Supreme Court restored the legality of the death penalty in 1976, nearly 400 have been executed since Gary Gilmore was executed by a firing squad in Utah. In Florida, executions in the electric chair have been temporarily suspended since the grisly experience of Pedro Medina in April. When the switch was turned on, orange and blue flames flared from the leather mask around his head.

I am one of a minority who is still opposed to capital punishment, the death penalty. I am aware that 8 out of 10 people favor the death penalty. Although outnumbered 4 to 1, I still believe that violence in our society will not be cured by violence. In my judgment revenge is the predominant motive for the death penalty. But satisfying the feeling for revenge never has brought back one victim from the grave.

In our nation, there are more than 3,200 persons on death row waiting for execution. Texas has the most, 448; California next with 444; Florida third with 350 persons waiting to be strapped into the electric chair in Stark.

Even if you completely disagree with me on the death penalty, are you willing that innocent persons be executed? A study this year by a University of Florida scholar, Michael Radelet, showed nearly 70 inmates have been released from death row in the past 25 years because of doubts about their guilt. About 10 days ago (July 14) NBC News had a similar story – doubts about the guilt of some who have been sentenced to death. This week – O’Dell.

Other studies in the past have disclosed much the same results. The Veach Committee, a few years ago, sponsored a study that showed at least 25 innocent persons were executed. Ernest van de Haag, then of Fordham University, was quoted as saying that 25 wrongful executions were an acceptable number. I do NOT find this an acceptable number. An innocent person who is executed would not find this an acceptable number. Neither would his/her family and friends.

Capital punishment has been abolished in most of the Western world. Law changes. We reject execution the many ways prescribed in the old scriptures and in laws throughout the centuries. It is not easy to forget that there was a time when people were executed for not believing in the Trinity. Laws attempt to adjust to the needs of society but adjustment is usually slow and lags behind needs and developments.

The curious curse of Cain, and the death penalties prescribed in Leviticus and Exodus are, a remnant of customs and mores with no relevance for society’s fumbling attempts to be just and fair.

Even though polls indicate that those of us opposed to the death penalty are outnumbered 4 to 1, I still do not believe that we will stop people from killing people by killing people.

BENEDICTION:

Hold on to what is good,
even if it is a handful of earth

Hold on to what you believe,
even if it is a tree which stands
by itself.

Hold on to what you must do,
even if it is a long way from
here.

Hold on to life,
even if it is easier letting go.

Hold on to the hand of your neighbor,
even when we are apart.

(adapted from Pueblos of New Mexico)

A Liberal Affirmation

January 19, 1997
Sarasota

Introduction:

Robert Frost – The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Sermon:

I am a liberal. In recent times, “liberal” has become a dirty word in many conservative and right-wing circles. I am still a bit irritated over the irresponsible charges which permeated both parties in last November’s election. Jim Lehrer of PBS was told by President Clinton that he, Clinton, is not, never has been, or never will be a liberal.

Liberals are caustically criticized as responsible for most of the nation’s failings. Sexual permissiveness, “humanism” in the public schools, approval of welfare “cheats”, coddling criminals are just a few of the “sins” for which liberals are allegedly responsible. Liberals are also accused of over-regulating, bureaucratic nit-picking, and undermining the spirit of American free enterprise.

A friend of mine once chided me that liberals want to solve all problems by “throwing money at them.” When he was President, Ronald Reagan commented that “liberals are very generous with other people’s money.”

First, a story which you all have heard more than once, but sometimes an old chestnut serves a homiletic purpose. “Martha and a big dog are standing at a bus stop. Waldo approaches them and ask if her dog bites. She assures him that her dog doesn’t bite, whereupon Waldo pets the dog. The dog bites his arms and legs and thoroughly mauls Waldo who screams at Martha, ‘I thought you said your dog doesn’t bite!’ Martha replies quite innocently, ‘Oh, that’s not my dog.’ ” (Martin Marty, Christian Century)

When I hear all the charges and notions which defame a liberal, I can say, “that’s not my dog.” Or to use a Southern expression, “that dog won’t hunt.”

I am a liberal, and I want to speak to you about what being liberal means, because it is a good word, even though there are shades of meaning and much misunderstanding. If I go shopping to purchase a BAT, it makes a considerable difference whether I am a little league baseball coach or stage-prop manager for a Dracula vampire play. Some precision is needed for the word “liberal”. I, for one, have no desire to be all things to all people, not only because one can become unpleasantly uncomfortable in the derriere from sitting on the fence too long, but also the word “liberal” deserves to be measured for its content.

Any good dictionary discloses the changing as well as different meanings of the word, “LIBERAL.” The word is rooted in the Latin, “pertaining to a free man.” (de-genderize) “Liberal” has also meant “free from restraint; free in speech and action.” In ALICE IN WONDERLAND, isn’t it the Queen who says imperiously to Alice, “Words mean whatever I want them to mean.” Such ambiguity is not appropriate in a Unitarian Universalist religious society which professes to base its philosophy on “the search for truth, known and to be known.” There are several meanings to the word “liberal”, some tangential, some disconnected. To ignore the historical process of the likenesses, and differences in economic, political, and humanitarian liberalism, is to increase the confusion about the word.

The Enlightenment of the 17th century opened new horizons for human minds and human effort. Through the development of the scientific spirit and the inquiries of philosophers, persons acquired new faith in themselves and their worth. Immanuel Kant summed up the Enlightenment spirit when he wrote, “dare to reason, dare to trust reason, dare to use your own understanding.”

The economic liberalism of the 18th century, particularly in England, cannot be overlooked if one is to understand the background. As the industrial revolution gained momentum, the owners and managers of the new industries struggled to cast off lingering feudal regulations maintained for the benefit of the landed aristocracy. The economic liberals of the time sought to be free to operate independently within their industries, and fought to remove tariff regulations which restricted free competition. In England, this economic liberalism led to a Liberal Party, which in its beginnings maintained a strong opposition to any legislation which would restrict the individual, particularly the industrial or commercial entrepreneur. This economic liberalism was certainly part of the motivation for our American Revolution, as Colonial merchants wanted to be free of taxes and tariffs imposed by England.

Economic liberalism strongly maintained that government had only two purposes: 1) to protect the individual’s right to life, personal liberty and property; 2) to enforce contracts freely made.

This restricted definition still has fervid believers, not only among right-wing and extremely conservative groups, but also in the so-called Libertarian movement. But it is NOT what the word “liberal” means to me. In my opinion, unrestricted economic liberalism made a virtue of unrestrained acquisitiveness, and disguised unadulterated self-interest by such words as Adam Smith used, “an obvious and simple system of liberty.”

There is another and different emphasis in our liberal heritage which strongly influenced our U.S. constitutional forms. This was humanitarian liberalism, which strongly affected such American statesmen as Jefferson and Franklin. Our Declaration of Independence [and] the Declaration of the Rights of Man of the French Revolution stated principles that took some form in most of the democratic constitutions of many other nations in the 19th and early 20th century. Furthermore, these liberal, democratic constitutions represented a different point of view than the premise of the economic liberal that the role of government was limited to the protection of life, liberty, property and the enforcement of contracts.

It is in the context of these movements of liberal point and counterpoint that the Universalist and Unitarian movements took root in America late in the 18th and early 19th century.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

One can outline features of 19th century religious liberalism. Unitarianism was not just limited to belief that God was one not three, and that Jesus was human, not God in the second person. Universalism was not just limited to the belief that all souls would be saved (although much of the eloquent preaching concerned these theological positions). The Enlightenment was influence enough to set the minds of our religious forbears on the course of a rational faith which was fortified by a conviction that religion’s best expression was moral behavior in this world rather than theological redemption in some after-world. As time went on in the 19th century, the emphasis grew that freedom to choose one’s destiny was more true to human experience than Calvinistic doctrine fatalistically determined. In addition, most Universalists and Unitarians supported an interpretation of scripture based on historical and literary studies, rather than a dogmatic faith that the Bible was the divine inerrant word of God, somehow miraculously dictated and transcribed in ancient days.

Our 19th century Universalists and Unitarians could agree on these general propositions of liberal religion, but when these principles were applied to issues of living, one could be an economic liberal or one could be a social or humanitarian liberal without being inconsistent to the general principles of Universalism and Unitarianism. The two streams of liberalism converged, but did not always mix.

Freedom to decide for oneself what is true in religion not only assured divergence of religious conviction, but also guaranteed that the ways in which religion should be applied to living were debatable. Should men and women rely on unchecked, individual achievement and acquisition with the have-nots of this world being taken care of by the individual, charitable, voluntary gifts of the “haves”? Or should social needs be served and social evils limited by effective legislation and economic assistance supported by public appropriation? There is no question that our American history, particularly since 1932, has headed in the latter direction. In the 1990s, however, more questions are being raised about that direction of our history.

As a 20th century Unitarian Universalist, what “liberal” means to me is expressed in the light of the harmonies and dissonances of our total heritage – political as well as theological, economic as well as historical, cultural as well as doctrinal. Furthermore, one cannot go home again and isolate one variety of our founding liberalism and say this is it, this is what “liberal” means, because the events of the first [97] years of the 20th century make unrealistic any attempt to recapture a complete viewpoint from the past.

As I attempt to understand the continuities and contradictions of the past, while trying to engage in the never-ending task of the relevance of the Unitarian Universalist religion, the word “liberal” means to me a POSITION POINT, A WAY, AND A WAVE.

I grew up in New England, only a few miles from the picturesque North Shore of Massachusetts. According to the classic manual of sea navigation, THE PRACTICAL NAVIGATOR by Samuel Bowditch, if one is off Cape Ann and is steering toward the port of Gloucester, one sets his course by the position point of the twin lights on Thatchers Island and the steeple of the Universalist Church. A position point is equally necessary in defining “liberal”. I believe the position point is not one idea, but ways of living that embrace certain principles. The person is of first importance. Because of this, the person has the right to decide for himself/herself how beliefs shall be stated. The necessity of religious freedom seems inescapable as the companion of the of the idea of the supreme worth of every person.

More than that, to me, to be liberal involves not only an openness about religious convictions, but also means supporting a social guarantee that this way of life is available to all. This social guarantee was stated in the Constitution and Bill of Rights. Most political struggles for the past two hundred years have been efforts to make real, to extend, what was stated in those great documents: freedom of the individual, government by consent of all of the governed, freedom of religion, freedom of the press, freedom of speech and assembly.

These constitutional guarantees of civil rights and liberties were an underestimated but vital part of the position point when Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, which anticipated the Constitution. The Founding Fathers relied on the philosophy of the Enlightenment, not the least of the sources being John Locke, the English rationalist philosopher, who held to the individualistic liberal emphasis. When Jefferson wrote, “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” he had borrowed from John Locke, EXCEPT that John Locke had emphasized, life, liberty, and property.

Jefferson’s substitution of the “pursuit of happiness” in place of “property” pointed to what has been the course of American history, however slow has been the achievement – that persons’ worth and rights are superior to property.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry that I could not travel both

I (we) took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.”

One could illustrate this with the events of the last 150 years – it took a terrible war to abolish slavery (and the property argument was substantial in opposition to abolition. Even Lincoln was willing at one point to reimburse the slaves’ owners for their “property” (the slaves). [Consider the] enactment of child labor laws, collective bargaining, the civil rights struggle. These are examples of the struggle to establish social and humanitarian liberalism. To put the position point in another fashion, because the person is primary, not only must one give consent to be governed, but also before one becomes a whole person one must have something to live ON and be free from coercion.

[CJW aside/insert: This is the week of the year when we remember Martin Luther King, Jr. by celebrating his birthday. Does it not seem preposterous as well as racist that this man or any other man, woman, or child should be considered somebody’s property? With his courage, conviction, eloquence, and then sacrificed by an assassin’s bullet, Martin Luther King, Jr. was a light on the arduous and dangerous task of making our ideals real. He took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.]

In addition to being a position point, liberalism is a way of understanding. The navigator must not only fix his course but must keep to the channel to reach the pier. That way of understanding is best represented by an attitude of mind and an emotional readiness to listen as well as assert, to reflect as well as debate, and to extend to one who disagrees the same respect and attention one expects from others. Because we are human, it is not uncommon to encounter the illiberal liberal who becomes anxious or impatient when opposing views are expressed. Sometimes we are like the man who “confronted by press articles on the fatal effects of tobacco, decided that the only sensible course for a smoker is to stop reading.”

In his fine book of a couple generations ago, THE LEGACY OF THE LIBERAL SPIRIT, Fred Bratton illustrated the temptation to be illiberal:

“In controversial moments
My perceptions rather fine
I always see both points of view
The one that’s wrong – and mine.”

I quoted the Latin root of “liberal” as “pertaining to a free man.” A way of understanding that opens our minds to where we have been wrong is a necessary part of what “liberal” means to me. The late Sir Julian Huxley, with a creative sense of analogy, wrote, “the psychosocial process is a cybernetic or self-directing one, full of feedback mechanisms, so that new ideas, and the new knowledge of which they are vehicles, not only must operate within the contemporary idea-system, but will modify it.”

More basic than even the most complex technology is the way of understanding necessary to authentic liberalism: the search for truth requires that we feedback contrary ideas on our own beliefs so that the individual-social process is both self-directing and self-correcting. The remarkable Sophocles perceived this thousands of years ago when in ANTIGONE, he has Teiresias say, “All men are liable to err; but when error hath been made, that man is no longer witless or unblest who heals the ill into which he hath fallen and remains not stubborn.”

In my view, this attitude squares with the nature of the Universe as I perceive it. The Universe is dynamic, constantly changing. The whole process of evolution points to the emergence of the new; novelty is a fact of experience. John Dewey expressed this cogently (THE PUBLIC AND ITS PROBLEMS), “To learn to be human is to develop through the give and take of communication an effective sense of being an individually distinctive member of a community, one who understands and appreciates its beliefs, desires and methods, and who contributes to a further conversion of organic powers into human resources and values. But this translation is never finished.”

Resuming the oceanic flavor of the outline, I do not see how there can be a valid liberalism unless the waves of protest are as persistent as those that break on the rocky New England shores. Nothing in history indicates that the time has ever been or that the occasion will ever come when no struggle will be necessary to maintain and extend the liberal way. The nature of freedom in society with extension of its privileges to all people, seems to be an historic process wherein to preserve what we have, we must seek continuously to widen the circle of persons who share social, humanitarian, and political democracy. Liberalism is a continuing reach for goals which support and extend human dignity. This is why the civil rights struggle, highlighted in the last 30 or more years, has been so vital both to the idea of liberalism and implementation of the grand ideas in the documents of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and Supreme Court decisions.

The task is never easy. Intolerance is openly a virtue to the far right-wing Christian political movements. There are many of us who become weary and feel like the victim in the story of the two men who were fighting in a rowboat within sight of two men on the shore. One of the fighters went overboard. The other, swinging an oar, took a swipe at the unlucky swimmer every time he came up for air. One man on the shore said to his companion, “What do you make of it?” The other looked at the action offshore, “I think the fellow in the water is a darn fool to keep poking his head out of the water.” Sometimes it seems that every time we rise up, someone takes a swing. Yet failure to keep trying produces an unfruitful religion or barren ethic, no matter how persuasive its abstract ideas.

Last month, playwright Edward Albee, along with several others in the arts, received a distinctive award from the President. In Act II of Albee’s play of some time ago, “Tiny Alice,” Miss Alice says to Brother Julian, “Every monster was a man first, Julian; every dictator was a colonel who vowed to retire once the revolution was done; it’s so easy to postpone elections, little brother.” Andre Gide once wrote, “That is why the world will be saved, if it can be saved, by the unsubmissive.” (quoted, FREEDOM IN THE MODERN WORLD, Herbert Muller, p. 129)

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

And so to me, the word “liberal” means a position point in which persons are primary; a way of understanding which assumes that the search for truth and the modification of concepts are never finished; and that to be faithful to these, one is part of the waves which endlessly beat at old, rigid rocks which are obstacles in the way of freedom and well-being for all persons. We all fail badly at times; we all wish that at times we might have been wiser, more thoughtful of others, more active in making reality emerge from ideas and ideals. Nevertheless, the demand for commitment never ceases.

Closing words:

Let the horizon of our minds
include all the family here on earth with us
those who have gone before
and left to us the heritage
of their memory and of their work;
and those whose lives will be shaped
by what we do
or leave undone. (S. McChord Crothers)