Beyond Religion

"It may be that religion is dead, and if it is, we had better know it and set ourselves to try to discover other sources of moral strength before it is too late."
-- Pearl S. Buck


Meditation: by Ralph Helverson “Impassioned Clay” SLT #654

Deep in ourselves resides the religious impulse.

Out of the passions of our clay it rises.

We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient, self-sustaining, or self-derived.

We have religion when we hold some hope beyond the present, some self-respect beyond our failures.

We have religion when our hearts are capable of leaping up at beauty, when our nerves are edged by some dream in the heart.

We have religion when we have an abiding gratitude for all that we have received. 

We have religion when we look upon people with all their failings and still find in them good; when we look beyond people to the grandeur in nature and to the purpose in our own heart.

We have religion when we have done all that we can, and then in confidence entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than ourselves.

Reading:  by the philosopher and neuroscientist Sam Harris from “An Atheist Manifesto” (2005)

One of the greatest challenges facing civilization in the 21st century is for human beings to learn to speak about their deepest personal concerns—about ethics, spiritual experience and the inevitability of human suffering—in ways that are not flagrantly irrational. Nothing stands in the way of this project more than the respect we accord religious faith. Incompatible religious doctrines have balkanized our world into separate moral communities—Christians, Muslims, Jews, Hindus, etc.—and these divisions have become a continuous source of human conflict. Indeed, religion is as much a living spring of violence today as it was at any time in the past. The recent conflicts in Palestine (Jews versus Muslims), the Balkans (Orthodox Serbians versus Catholic Croatians; Orthodox Serbians versus Bosnian and Albanian Muslims), Northern Ireland (Protestants versus Catholics), Kashmir (Muslims versus Hindus), Sudan (Muslims versus Christians and animists), Nigeria (Muslims versus Christians), Ethiopia and Eritrea (Muslims versus Christians), Sri Lanka (Sinhalese Buddhists versus Tamil Hindus), Indonesia (Muslims versus Timorese Christians), Iran and Iraq (Shiite versus Sunni Muslims), and the Caucasus (Orthodox Russians versus Chechen Muslims; Muslim Azerbaijanis versus Catholic and Orthodox Armenians) are merely a few cases in point. In these places religion has been the explicit cause of literally millions of deaths in the last 10 years…

Reading: by Tenzin Gyatso, the 14^th Dalai Lama, and leader of Tibetan Buddhists, from Beyond Religion – Ethics for a Whole World (p. 12) 

It is a matter of great urgency… that we find ways to cooperate with one another in a spirit of mutual acceptance and respect. For while to many people it is a source of joy to live in a cosmopolitan environment where they can experience a wide spectrum of different cultures, there is not doubt that, for others, living in close proximity with those who do not share their language or culture can pose difficulties. It can create confusion, fear, and resentment, leading in the worst cases to open hostility and new ideologies of exclusion based on race, nationality, or religion. Unfortunately, as we look around the world, we see that social tensions are actually quite common. Furthermore, it seems likely that, as economic migration continues, such difficulties may increase.

In such a world, I feel, it is vital for us to find a genuinely sustainable and universal approach to ethics, inner values, and personal integrity – an approach that can transcend religious, cultural, and racial differences and appeal to people at a fundamental human level.

Reading: by the Jesuit priest Anthony DeMello from Taking Flight (p. 62)

An atheist fell of a cliff. As he tumbled downward, he caught hold of the branch of a small tree. There he hung between heaven above an the rocks a thousand feet below, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

Then an idea came to him. “God!” he shouted with all his might.

Silence! No one responded.

“God!” he shouted again. “If you exist, save me and I promise I shall believe in you and teach others to believe.”

Silence again! Then he almost let go of the branch in shock as he heard a mighty Voice booming across the canyon. “That’s what they all say when they are in trouble.”

“No, God, no!” he shouted out, more hopeful now. “I am not like the others. Why, I have already begun to believe, don’t you see, having heard your Voice for myself. Now all you have to do is save me and I shall proclaim your name to the ends of the earth.”

“Very well,” said the Voice. “I shall save you. Let go of that branch.”

“Let go of the branch?” yelled the distraught man. “Do you think I am crazy?”

Beyond Religion

A Sermon Delivered on September 30, 2012

By

The Reverend Axel H. Gehrmann

I bet most of us first heard about the movie “Innocence of Muslims” after the attack on the Libyan embassy on September 11^th. It seems the film was made by a Coptic Christian on probation in California, and designed to deeply insult the Islamic faith, and its followers. Even now, two and a half weeks later, the turmoil continues. American embassies have been attacked in Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen, Pakistan, and Indonesia. Protests have taken place in Sudan, Morocco, Iraq, Iran, India and Bangladesh. Many worry that the violent controversy is liable to undo any political progress accomplished in the Arab Spring. Some see the riots as evidence that the Muslim faith is incompatible with our ideals of freedom and democracy. For others it is another example of the fact that religion, all religions, are irrational, divisive, and dangerous.

The world would be a better place if we could get rid of religious faith altogether. This is the case Sam Harris forcefully makes in his Atheist Manifesto, as well as in other books he has written since: The End of Faith, Letter to a Christian Nation, and The Moral Landscape, to mention a few. Harris struck a chord for thousands of readers. The End of Faith was on the New York Times bestseller list for 33 weeks.

Harris’ argument cannot be easily dismissed. His questions are especially relevant in a church like ours. Harris’ radical atheism is relevant, not because we are all adamant theists. Not because we embrace a traditional faith just as fiercely as he rejects it. No, it is relevant because we grapple with the very same questions, and the answers we come up with are all over the map.

Just this past week I was talking with a newcomer about our church, and what it is we believe. He was a religious seeker with a deep concern for questions of meaning and purpose, and with a strong desire to join a community of like-minded people. He wasn’t certain whether he would fit in here, because his ideas about God are different from those of most religious people he had met in the course of his life.

As we talked, I struggled to find a way to convey my sense that his religious questions would fit very well within the context of this congregation, and the breadth of differing religious sensibilities represented among us. Finally I pulled out a poster board that some of you have seen, and which some of you helped create during a worship service last June. It has a line drawn across it. On one side is the word “atheist.” In the middle is the word “agnostic.” On the other side is the word “theist.” Along the line are dozens of red stickers, each of which represents one of our members’ belief about God. 

What I find interesting about that poster board is that the red stickers on it are pretty evenly spread out. There is a cluster around “atheist,” and cluster around “agnostic,” and a cluster around “theist.”

The poster board makes it pretty clear, that the question whether we are believers or non-believers is not a question that we resolve before we choose to join this church. Being here does not mean any one of us has stepped firmly and finally into one camp or another. And truth be told, whenever I am asked to say whether I am a theist or atheist, or something in between, I’m not sure what to answer. Sometimes when I hear people talk about God, the way they talk about God leaves me thinking: I don’t believe in that God. But then, other times, I hear other people imagine the sacred, the power of love, the miracle of life, the hunger for justice, the mystery of creation, and God – and I think, yes, I believe in that. And, actually, over the years as I have learned more about the many different ways the sacred has been imagined throughout history, the more the idea has grown on me.

There is no single, simple way to understand religion or to imagine God. There is no universal agreement on what it means to be a believer.

Sometimes the diversity of perspectives on these issues is a problem.

* * *

There is a Sufi story about the wise fool Mulla Nasrudin that addresses the issue of religious diversity and division. 

Once upon a time Nasrudin was going from town to town saying the Caliph’s so-called religious leaders were all ignorant and confused. So he was arrested, dragged to court and accused of heresy, the penalty of which was death.

Before the sentencing, he was granted a final request. So Nasrudin asked that each of the wise men should separately write down on a piece of paper the answer to this question: “What is bread?”

The answers were written down, and then handed to the Caliph, who read them aloud. The first answer was, “bread is that which sustains us.” The second was, “bread is flour and water.” The third said, “it is a gift from Allah.” The fourth said, “it is baked dough.” The fifth said, “it depends what you mean by bread.” And so it went on.

When they were finished, Nasrudin asked the Caliph, “How can you entrust matters of judgment to these wise men? They can’t even agree about something they eat every day, and yet when it comes to me, they are unanimous in their verdict that I am a heretic.” The Caliph saw Nasrudin’s point and let him free.

* * *

Sometimes it seems that because religious followers are deeply divided on matters of faith, it would be best to get rid of religion altogether. Religion only serves to keep us ignorant and confused.

The Dalai Lama agrees with Sam Harris, in part. We need to learn to speak about our deepest personal concerns rationally and respectfully. In order to respond to the ethical challenges of our day, we need to find ways to cooperate. In order to be effective, ethics do not need to be grounded in a religious worldview. Our ethical instincts emerge simply as a “natural and rational response to our very humanity and our common human condition.”

But for the Dalai Lama a secular perspective does not require the rejection of religion. Instead it involves the acceptance of a wide variety of religions. The example he has in mind is the secular constitution of India, which was inspired by Mahatma Gandhi. Gandhi was a deeply religious man. His daily devotions included hymns and readings of all the country’s major faith traditions. While Hinduism is widely practiced in India, the country also has the second-largest Muslim population in the world. There are millions of Sikhs and Christian who live in India. There are also substantial Jain, Buddhist, Zoroastrian and Jewish communities. Gandhi embraced all of them.

The Dalai Lama writes, 

“I am not among those who think that humans will soon be ready to dispense with religion altogether. On the contrary, in my view, faith is a force for good and can be tremendously beneficial. In offering an understanding of human life which transcends our temporary physical existence, religion gives hope and strength to those facing adversity…” (p. 16)

* * *

As the Dalai Lama sees it, the majority of the world’s problem today – whether economic problems that perpetuate poverty, political problems that lead to war, or social problems that lead to substance abuse, domestic abuse, and the breakdown of the family – all these problems are related to our habit of giving too much attention to the external and material aspects of our lives, and not enough attention to morality and inner values. 

There is incredible diversity among the world’s different cultures and religions. But nevertheless, on the most essential level, humans share very much in common – especially in terms of our sense of spirituality, or what the Dalai Lama calls “inner values.” The most basic of these values is compassion. 

He writes, 

“We all appreciate in others the inner qualities of kindness, patience, tolerance, forgiveness, and generosity, and in the same way we are all averse to displays of greed, malice, hatred, and bigotry. So actively promoting the positive inner qualities of the human heart that arise from our core disposition toward compassion, and learning to combat our more destructive propensities, will be appreciated by all. And the first beneficiaries of such a strengthening of our inner values will, no doubt, be ourselves.” (p. x)

As the Dalai Lama sees it, ultimately, the source of our problems lies at the level of the individual. If individuals lack a sense of moral values and integrity, no system of laws and regulations will be able to create peace and justice.

In order to cooperate with one another, in order to learn to speak about our deepest personal concerns, we must recognize our common humanity, our common quest for happiness, our common appreciation for compassion and kindness.

Religious practice – prayer and meditation – can help us understand and cultivate inner values like patience, generosity, and forgiveness. But the value of these traits transcends any particular religion, and religious faith altogether.

* * *

The Dalai Lama tells the story of when he recently attended a formal ceremony to celebrate the opening of a new Buddhist temple in Bihar. (Bihar is a state in northern India that is very densely populated and very poor.) At the ceremony, the chief minister of Bihar gave a fine speech, in which he expressed his conviction that now, with this beautiful temple and the blessings of the Buddha, the state of Bihar would flourish.

When it was the Dalai Lama’s turn to speak, he started off by saying half-jokingly, that “if Bihar’s prosperity depended solely on the blessings of the Buddha, it really should have prospered a long time ago!” After all, Bihar is home to the holiest site for Buddhists – Bodh Gaya, where the historical Buddha attained full enlightenment. “For real change,” he said, “we require more than the blessing of the Buddha, powerful though they may be, and more than prayer.”

The Dalai Lama is a big believer in the benefits of science, technology, engineering and medicine. Every time he is in the hospital, benefiting from the care of skilled doctors, every time boards a plane, relying on the expertise of trained pilots, he appreciates the value of a secular, scientific worldview.

* * *

It would be crazy to think that a simple prayer could solve all the problems of our lives. Whether we consider ourselves believers or non-believers, it would be crazy to think simply calling out for God’s help, would cause a booming voice to respond. It would be crazy to think a heavenly hand would swoop down and miraculously save us from the dangers and deprivations of our lives.

But it would be equally crazy to imagine that we are each completely self-sufficient, self-sustaining, or self-derived.

Human beings are both deeply rational and deeply religious. At our best, we are both.

At our best, we are able to look upon people with all their failings and still find in them good. At our best we are able to appreciate the grandeur of nature and a sense of purpose in our hearts. We will do all that we can to serve a greater good, and then entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than ourselves.

May we have the wisdom and the courage

To live such a life.

Amen.

Of Leaders and Followers

"A leader is a dealer in hope."
-- Napoleon I

Reading:  by David Baron from  Moses on Management – 50 Leadership Lessons from the Greatest Manager of All Time (p. xii) 

From our knowledge of him through the Bible and popular culture, Moses seems to be a bundle of contradictions. Is he the resistant, moody shepherd of Exodus or the godlike liberator portrayed by Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments? One moment he’s begging the Lord to choose someone else for the job, the next he’s striding through the Red Sea like Zeus. The Bible paints a portrait of a flawed and often frustrated leader whose compassion for his people is frequently at odds with his commitment to the Lord. By any account, Moses was a highly complex individual who operated in a wildly uncertain world. For that very reason, his story provides us with insights and leadership tools that are invaluable today.

Reading: by Barbara Kellerman from  Followership – How Followers Are Creating Change and Changing Leaders (p. xvii) 

During the last quarter of the twentieth century, the idea of leadership gained fresh currency. First in the military, next in corporate America, and finally in the public and non-profit sectors, we became persuaded that good leadership can be taught – that is people can be taught to be good leaders. Just a few years ago, in fact, the investment in leadership education and development was said to approximate some $50 billion…

At the same time, the concept of followership languished… Leaders are presumed to be so much more important than followers that our shared interest is in leadership, not in followership. In fact, the word itself, followership, remains suspect. Look up the word in your dictionary, and it’s as likely as not to be missing. Type the word in your computer, and it’s as likely as not to be rejected, either as misspelled or as not even in the English language… The bottom line: for all the lip service paid to the importance of the relationship between leaders and followers, the message we receive is that the former belong front and center and the latter off to the side.

Reading:  by Carl Dennis a poem entitled “My Moses”

Time to praise the other Moses, the one who concludes

That the bush isn't really burning, as he first supposed,

Just backlit in red by the setting sun,

Magnified by the need of a runaway to be pardoned,

To pull his shoes off and receive a vision.

The Moses who, when he lifts his staff,

Can't part the waters, who has to wade in

At low tide and hope for the best.

Nobody drowns. Nobody's following. The twelve tribes,

Sluggish after a hard day in the quarries,

Didn't find his lecture on the virtues inspiring.

And Pharaoh was willing to see him go.

Good riddance, what with his praise of creation

That gouged the work month with holidays.

Now he's wringing his clothes out on the other side,

Relieved it hasn't taken him any longer to realize

He isn't much of a prophet, that he hasn't the gift.

Free now of the journey to the Promised Land

And the wars with the natives, he can settle down at once

Whenever he pleases, and be happy even here

In the country that disappointed Columbus,

That wasn't the hoped-for shortcut to spices.

Happy even on this block of mine, my neighbor,

A civics teacher at the high school,

Who leaves the gate to his yard unlocked

So the neighborhood children can pick the berries

Before the frost comes and leaf smoke rises

From small, mute fires he's lit himself.

Of Leaders and Followers

A Sermon Delivered on September 23, 2012

By

The Reverend Axel H. Gehrmann

Today, after the worship service, you are invited to join us for fellowship, to mingle with others over a cup of coffee or tea. In addition to our usual social hour, today, several active groups within the congregation have set up displays that provide information on what it is they do. And several of us, who have taken on various leadership roles, will be there, hoping to meet you and to hear what it is that interests you about this church.

Being a leader in a Unitarian Universalist church is a rewarding and humbling undertaking. It isn’t always easy. 

Our religious tradition is marked by a profound individualism. We like to think ourselves as religious non-conformists. Each of us thinks about God and salvation in different ways. We treasure a critical approach to faith and don’t simply submit to what others say – whether priests or prophets or politicians. “Question authority” is one of our most deeply held religious habits. 

So while in some religious traditions, a leader is envisioned as a trusted shepherd, who guides a flock of gentle sheep, in UU congregations leadership has been compared with the task of herding cats. Leadership is tricky in our church, it seems, not because we lack good leaders, but because the fewest of us are good followers.

I remember one of my earliest lessons in religious leadership. I was a twenty-four year old ministerial intern in a small UU congregation in Hayward, CA. It was a Wednesday evening, and I was in the process of leading a small group discussion. And to mark the beginning of our meeting, to help us get centered, I thought I would light a chalice. There were perhaps ten of us. Our chairs were set in a circle. I got up, leaned forward, struck a match, lit the candle, and then sat back down. But before I realized what was going on, a member of the group – an older gentleman, let me call him Hank – bent forward and in one swift movement blew the candle out. (Later I learned Hank considered himself an adamant humanist, and had a strong dislike for anything that struck him as “ritual.”)

* * *

Unitarian Universalists are unique. But perhaps we are not as unique as we like to think. Barbara Kellerman says, a certain anti-authoritarian mindset is typical of the American way of life. It is rooted in our history. Initially a more traditional and deferential attitude toward authority existed among European Americans. In the early 1700s the divisions between the rich and the poor, between the powerful and the powerless were accepted, because this is the way things always had been. But then, the Revolutionary War changed all this. Suddenly colonial life was defined by defiance of traditional authorities. Resistance was practiced, rather than obedience. Rather than being a good follower, it was the act of refusing to follow that was considered necessary and appropriate. 

Religious dissent joined political dissent, and it became not only common, but even commendable to challenge people in high places. “It was this antigovernment, antiauthority attitude that over the years came to be considered quintessentially American,” Kellerman writes. “The ideas that constitute the American Creed – equality, liberty, individualism, constitutionalism, and democracy – clearly demonstrate that opposition to power, and suspicion of government as the most dangerous embodiment of power, are the essential themes of American political thought.”

The American Revolution, and the ideas that inspired it, created a culture in which civil disobedience is more admired than civil obedience.

In the early 1800s Alexis de Tocqueville observed that Americans did not “recognize any signs of incontestable greatness or superiority in any of their fellows.” Rather, they relied on “their own judgment as the most apparent and accessible test of truth.” While the independence to which Tocqueville alludes is often considered admirable, it does not make it easy to govern, to lead.   

* * *

One way to cope with a situation in which leadership is difficult, is to work harder at being a good leader. Thus we have an ever-growing industry of leadership development that is churning out book after book. Some of them offer the newest theories and techniques. Others lift up ancient and time-tested approaches to leadership.

Moses could be considered a quintessential religious leader. His role in leading the people of Israel out of bondage, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land, has served to inspire social and political movements for millennia. And, as David Baron points out, Moses can serve as a model for business management, too. Baron breaks down his 50 lessons into three sections: delivering the message, leading in the wilderness, living by the code. His tips include: allow others to recognize your strengths and recognize the strengths of others, use a mission statement as your Ten Commandments, see crisis as an opening door, establish creative downtime, don’t compromise with tyranny, treat people fairly.

There is a lot to be said for the tips and techniques that can be found in many self-help manuals and leadership resources. Whenever I peruse them, in invariably find myself agreeing with much of the good advice offered. But, nevertheless, putting all these good suggestions into practice never seems to be quite as simple as the training manuals suggest. There seems to be something missing.

* * *

Barbara Kellerman makes the case that part of our problem is that we focus too much on leadership and not enough on followership. All coordinated communal activity involves both leaders and followers. The fact that we focus all our efforts on teaching leadership skills, but not followership skills, this is a tragic mistake. Leaders cannot lead without engaged followers. 

What do followers look like? Kellerman defines followers as subordinates who have less power, authority and influence than their superiors and who, therefore usually, but not invariably, fall into line. 

By distinguishing clearly between leaders and followers, she is not saying that leaders and followers are two distinct groups of people. In fact, the line that separates them is blurred. Sometimes designated leaders follow. Sometimes apparent followers lead. And in many work situations, we may – at the same time - serve both a leader for some of our colleagues, and as followers to others, standing as we do, somewhere on an organizational ladder where we have people below us, and people above us.

We all begin as followers, in infancy and childhood, as we follow the guidance of our elders on whom we depend. Then, as we grow older, we first follow leaders before we lead followers. It was with this dynamic in mind that Jean-Jacques Rousseau argued that, in order to learn how to lead, we need to learn how to follow.

There are good followers and bad followers. Being a good follower is not simply a matter of obediently following directions and doing as one is told. A cautionary example often cited to describe both bad leadership and bad followership, is that of Germany under Hitler. But a similar dynamic can be found in all troubling stories of genocide and persecution around the world. The greatest atrocities in human history have been committed not merely by a few bad leaders, but by millions of bad followers.

Being a good follower, in these instances, and in all instances, involves challenging one’s leaders, if the leaders’ goals are immoral.

Good followers are involved and engaged in their organization or community. They do something, as opposed to doing nothing. Good followers also support good leaders, those who are effective and ethical. And they oppose bad leaders, those who are ineffective, or unethical, or both. And good followers, rather than seeking personal gain, strive to serve a greater good. 

“Never for a moment overestimate follower power,” Kellerman says. “But never for a moment underestimate it either. There are times, even recent times, when the dam breaks, when follower power, people power, becomes so great, it can no longer be contained. The antiwar, civil rights, and women’s movements in the United States; the end of apartheid in Sough Africa; the fall of the Berlin wall and the liberation of Soviet bloc countries such as Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia in Eastern Europe; and of course, the wave of self-expression and self-actualization in China – all are of recent vintage.” These are examples of followership at its best. 

These are some of Kellerman’s tips for those who aspire to good followership:

“Be aware of being a follower. Be informed. Be engaged. Be independent. Be a watchdog. Be prepared to analyze the situation, the leader, and the other followers. Be prepared to judge [them]… Be prepared to take a stand.... Know tactics and strategies such as cooperating, collaborating, co-opting, and overtly or covertly resisting. Know your options. Know the risk of doing something – and of doing nothing. [And above all] check your moral compass.”

* * *

Now that I have had a few decades to think about, I have to reconsider my understanding of what happened at that Wednesday evening discussion group in Hayward, CA. Maybe, in blowing out my candle, Hank was not being a bad follower. Maybe he was trying to be a good follower. Maybe he was a good follower, because he didn’t quietly go along with a leader with whom he disagreed. Instead he got actively involved. And in doing so, he helped the whole group think more carefully about the purpose of our gathering, and how we could work together more effectively and respectfully toward all. 

* * *

Moses was a great prophet. But he was not the kind of Hollywood hero portrayed by Charlton Heston. He was a highly complex individual living in a wildly uncertain world. Just like each of us here today.

Being a prophet means he was not simply a leader. Before being a leader, he was a follower, who heard the voice of God, and tried to heeds its call.

Moses tried to be both a good leader and a good follower. Despite his own doubts and fears, he tried to follow the spirit of God, as he understood it. Despite his own short-comings and frustrations, he tried to lead his people. 

Our liberal religious heritage teaches that each of us is a prophet, and all of us are priests. Most of us will never see a burning a bush. Most of us will settle for the sight of the red setting sun. Most of us will not part the waters with a magical staff, but will instead wade in at low tide and hope for the best.

The spirit I hear, is not calling us to some faraway promised land that we will find forty years from today. The spirit I hear, tells me we can find paradise right here, in this very neighborhood, in our own back yard. 

As good leaders/followers, we see that the most promising path to salvation, the most reliable path to happiness, leads us more deeply into the here and now. Fully alive, fully engaged, in this place, at this time, with these people right here.

May we have the wisdom and courage

To follow in this spirit.

Amen.

A Secure Homeland

"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."

-- Robert Frost

Reading: by journalist Maria Hinojosa from the Ware Lecture she delivered in front of several thousand Unitarian Universalists at the General Assembly in Phoenix, AZ, this past June. 

… The reason why the stories I'm going to share with you matter to me, [is] not because I'm a Mexican immigrant, but rather because I'm an American citizen. And because I chose to become an American citizen, this matters to me. So I want to give you these facts. And I want to let you do with those facts what you do in a democracy….

...There is another America that is operating parallel to this one. In fact, it is here in Arizona where these two Americas have come face to face. This is an America where people live in fear of any kind of authority.

Imagine looking at police officers and feeling fear because they have the capacity to tear your family apart… you fear the police all the time.

I met a woman here in Phoenix two years ago who told me that she couldn't drive her kids to school anymore after SB1070 was signed by the governor. And that if her American born son were to drive her to work, he would be arrested for smuggling his mother and she would be placed into deportation. That's what that fear looks like for a family, an American family. It's not a judgment, it's a fact.

Right now, people today, just blocks from where we're gathered, people are living in fear. So imagine if you're the victim of a crime. Would you dare report it? Can you imagine that happening in your town or in your neighborhood or in your city? You're held up at gunpoint and you don't tell anyone. Or you're raped and you don't tell anyone. Or you're burglarized and you don't say anything.

Is this really happening in our country? In fact, it does happen. Or here in Arizona, you'll be stop for a broken tail light and that will land you in jail for breaking state law, for driving without a license. You'll end up in an un-air conditioned tent that can get as hot as 139 degrees. Wearing pink underwear and pink socks to humiliate you and make it harder to run away. Is this who we are? Is this who we are?....

Reading: by Henri Nouwen from Reaching Out – The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (p. 47) 

At first the word “hospitality” might evoke the image of soft sweet kindness, tea parties, bland conversations and a general atmosphere of coziness. Probably this has its good reasons since in our culture the concept of hospitality has lost much of its power and is often used in circles where we are more prone to expect a watered down piety than a serious search for authentic […] spirituality. But still, if there is any concept worth restoring to its original depth and evocative potential, it is the concept of hospitality.

… Old and New Testament stories not only show how serious our obligation is to welcome the stranger in our home, but they also tell us that guests are carrying precious gifts with them, which they are eager to reveal to a receptive host. When Abraham received three strangers at Mamre and offered them water, bread and a fine tender calf, the revealed themselves to him as the Lord announcing that Sarah his wife would give birth to a son. When the widow of Zarephath offered food and shelter to Elijah, he revealed himself as a man of God offering her an abundance of oil and meal and raising her son from the dead. When the two travelers to Emmaus invited the stranger, who had joined them on the road to stay with them for the night, he made himself known in the breaking of bread as their Lord and Savior.

When hostility is converted into hospitality then fearful strangers can become guests revealing to their hosts the promise they are carrying with them. Then, in fact, the distinction between host and guest proves to be artificial and evaporates in the recognition of a new found unity.

Thus the biblical stories help us to realize not just that hospitality is an important virtue, but even more that in the context of hospitality guest and host reveal their most precious gifts and bring new life to each other.

Reading: by Louis Jenkins a poem entitled “My Ancestral Home”

We came to a beautiful little farm. From photos

I'd seen I knew this was the place. The house

and barn were painted in the traditional Falu

red, trimmed with white. It was nearly mid-

summer, the trees and grass, lush green, when

we arrived the family was gathered at a table

on the lawn for coffee and fresh strawberries.

Introductions were made all around, Grandpa

Sven, Lars-Olaf and Marie, Eric and Gudren,

Cousin Inge and her two children… It made me

think of a Carl Larsson painting. But, of course,

it was all modern, the Swedes are very up-to-

date, Lars-Olaf was an engineer for Volvo, and

they all spoke perfect English, except for

Grandpa, and there was a great deal of laughter

over my attempts at Swedish. We stayed for a

long time laughing and talking, It was late in

the day, but the sun was still high. I felt a won-

derful kinship. It seemed to me that I had

known these people all my life, they even

looked like family back in the States. But as it

turned out, we had come to the wrong farm.

Lars-Olaf said, "I think I know your people, they

live about three miles from here. If you like I

could give them a call." I said that no, it wasn't

necessary, this was close enough.

A Secure Homeland

A Sermon Delivered on September 9, 2012

By

The Reverend Axel H. Gehrmann

At the General Assembly in Phoenix, AZ, last June, I was one of Maria Hinojosa’s listeners, who considered himself reasonably well-educated on the issue of immigration, but was nevertheless surprised by some of the stories and facts she shared. 

For instance, I knew that the United States has the largest prison population in the world, and the highest per capita incarceration rate among industrialized nations. What I didn’t know is that the eleven million so-called “illegal immigrants” in this country have little to do with the criminal justice system.

The term “illegal immigrant” is misleading. It sounds as if we are dealing with criminals. But in fact, living in this country without appropriate documentation is not a crime, it is only a civil offense. You would think this would be a good thing. You would think that because undocumented immigrants are not criminals, they would be afforded the same legal protections as all the millions of non-criminals in this country. You would think they would surely enjoy better treatment than criminals.

But here’s the catch: it turns out that those of us accused of a crime are granted more protections than those who are accused of a civil offense. If you are detained for a civil offense, you are not read Miranda rights, you are not entitled to make a phone call, and you are not allowed to contact an attorney. Once you are detained, your detention can drag on for days, or weeks, or months.

I knew we had the world’s largest prison population. What I didn’t know is that we also have the world’s largest population of civil detainees. These are men and women who are not incarcerated because of a crime they committed, but who are detained. They aren’t in jail, but they are still locked up, all the same.

We have the world’s largest population of civilly detained people, but we don’t have a system in our country to run civil detention. Civil detention centers are not subjected to accountability and oversight the way prisons are. Many of them are privately run. So, for instance, in Willacy County, Texas, thousands of men and women were held in ten circus tents, with no windows. People were supposed to be held for two or three days, but instead some were held for two years.

Maria Hinojosa, who visited this place, said, “Imagine that this is a place where there was no clean drinking water. The water from the tap was sulfuric. So every time—imagine, every time in the desert in Texas in that tent, you'd be thirsty, you would have to go to the guard and ask for a cup to drink water. And maybe that guard would give you the cup, maybe not. No TV, no windows, no books. Warehoused.”

* * *

Once when Maria Hinojosa was working at CNN, she met the Jewish holocaust survivor and Nobel Prize winner, Elie Wiesel. Talking in the hallway, he explained to her why it is important to question the use of the term “illegal immigrant.” Don’t use the term “illegal” when talking about immigrants, he said, because there’s no such thing as an illegal human being. It’s dangerous to use this term, Wiesel knew very well. He remembered when the Nazis declared the Jews to be illegal people. That was the beginning of the Holocaust. Six million men, women and children were first declared illegal, and then killed.

* * *

Over eleven million people live in this county as undocumented immigrants. This is not just an issue in Arizona or Texas, and in states that share a border with Mexico. This is an issue right here in Champaign/Urbana. Concerned citizens locally have been working to support our immigrant community. Locally, our police officers had been enforcing a so-called “Secure Communities” program, that was promoted as a way to identify and deport dangerous criminals “who pose a threat to public safety, such as aliens with prior convictions for major drug offenses, murder, rape, robbery, and kidnapping.”  However, in fact, the vast majority of individuals detained under the program were non-criminals.  Here in Champaign County 70% of those detained had no criminal record, but the impact on local families has been devastating.

Our local Champaign/Urbana Immigration Forum has been reaching out to our local immigrant community, sponsoring consulate visits, helping obtain passports, and educating local immigrants about their rights under the law.

Unitarian Universalists across the country are turning their attention to our country’s immigration practices. “Immigration as a Moral Issue” is the way this effort is being framed. Congregations across the nation are educating themselves and finding ways to take action. In our own church, Pat Nolan and Claire Szoke have been active with the local Faith Allies of the CU Immigration Forum. Religious communities are coordinating interfaith activities, next month in particular, since October has been designated as Immigration Awareness month. And leading up to this, Pat and Claire will be leading a six-session course on “Immigration as a Moral Issue” right here at our church, beginning tomorrow evening. And if I understood Pat correctly, there is still plenty of room for participants.

* * *

September 11^th is an auspicious time to be thinking about how we handle the issue of immigration, and how we treat those who live among us, but who are not American citizens. Homeland security became a hot issue after 9/11/2001.

In the wake of the terrorist attacks, we created a new government entity called the Department for Homeland Security. In order to more effectively protect us from terrorist activity, dozens of government agencies were reorganized and placed under its umbrella.

Customs and border protection, citizenship and immigration services, immigration and customs enforcement, and the Secret Service, among many others, all merged into one department.

According to the Department for Homeland Security website, “The vision of homeland security is to ensure a homeland that is safe, secure, and resilient against terrorism and other hazards where American interests, aspirations, and way of life can thrive.”

This is a worthy goal, for sure. But I wonder whether the way we have been going about attaining this goal has really been effective. Is our homeland more secure? Do we feel safe?

* * *

It seems as if eleven years ago our immigration policies and procedures suddenly changed. But actually that is not the case. Our policies have always been in a state of flux.

Last week I was talking with an Urbana neighbor, who, like me, is a native of Germany. She happens to be a historian here at the U of I, and last year she published a book on migration and citizenship in the U.S. (Crossing Borders – Migration and Citizenship in the Twentieth Century United States, by Dorothee Schneider).

Immigration policy in this country, I learned, didn’t change radically a decade ago. It changed radically a century ago. It wasn’t until early in the twentieth century that the federal government first began to control immigration. Before that, the flow of immigrants had more to do with international commercial interests and local customs. Then the Immigration Act of 1924 was passed, which limited the annual number of immigrants from any given country to 2% of the number of people from that country already living in the U.S. in 1890. The Immigration Act of 1924 was designed to restrict the number of immigrants from southern and eastern Europe, especially Jews fleeing pogroms in Poland and Russia, as well as immigrants from the Middle East and Asia. As one historian put it, “the most basic purpose of the 1924 Immigration Act was to preserve the ideal of American homogeneity.” The racial subtext of the Immigration Act was unmistakable.

In the 1960s, during the Civil Rights Movement, the racist character of immigration law was no longer accepted. A new Immigration and Naturalization Bill of 1965 was passed, which ended four decades of “racialized nationality quotas.” Under the new law, no more than 20,000 immigrants from any given country were allowed to enter the United States. While this new quota system didn’t liberalize immigration policy, it did make it more diverse.

An unintended consequence of the 1965 bill was that, for the first time, federal immigration law affected immigrants from Mexico. Ever since the end of the Mexican American War in 1848, when the formerly Mexican territories of Texas, New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, California, and some of Colorado were declared part of the United States, hundreds of thousands of Mexican migrants moved back and forth across the U.S.-Mexican border.

In 1965, the new bill made this tradition of migration illegal. Rather than wait for years to be granted a visa according to the new law, many Mexicans chose to cross the border without documentation. The number of undocumented immigrants from Mexico grew and grew. So in 1986 yet another immigration act was passed – the Immigration Reform and Control Act – which financed border fortification systems and more border personnel. For the first time, crossing the Mexican-American border involved evading guards and border patrols.

Today over eleven million undocumented immigrants live in this country, most of them from Mexico. These are men, women, and children, who live and work in this country, who support our economy and pay taxes, and yet are in many ways virtually invisible. They live in a state of constant fear, families perpetually in danger of being torn apart. Eleven million people ignored and excluded make me wonder: is this the kind country that reflects our interests and aspirations? Is this the kind of country in which our way of life can thrive?

* * *

Henri Nouwen reminds us that the practice of hospitality, reaching out to strangers and inviting them into our lives, belongs to the very core of Jewish and Christian spirituality. Nevertheless, he writes, “it is important to realize clearly that our spontaneous feelings toward strangers are quite ambivalent. It does not require much social analysis to recognize how many forms of hostility, usually pervaded by fear and anxiety, prevent us from inviting people into our world.” (p. 48)

The most common way to cope with our fear of the stranger, is to engage in familiar forms of self-protection. As Nouwen sees it, “strangers have become more and more subject to hostility than hospitality. In fact,” he writes, “we have protected our apartments with dogs and double locks, our buildings with vigilant doormen, …our subways with security guards, our airports with safety officials, our cities with armed police and our country with omnipresent military.”

Religious practice teaches us to challenge these habits of fear. Because the experience of the human race has shown, that actions driven by fear only serve to be beget more fear. We hope to create a sense of safety and security when we lock our doors ever more tightly. And yet closing our eyes and ears to the stranger, only serves to make us all more anxious and afraid.

When we open our doors, when we open our eyes and ears, we will realize that those we fear are actually bearing precious gifts, which they are eager to reveal. When we dare to move from a stance of hostility to hospitality, we will discover the stranger brings blessings, and the possibilities of an unimagined, new life together.

Our homeland, our home, which we think we know, perfectly well – the house and barn, the trees and grass – and our family and friends – we may realize, are not so familiar after all. And faraway strangers may look and act just like family – or close enough.

When we open our homes and hearts to those too long ignored and excluded, our fear will be transformed. And we will have helped in the holy of work of transforming strangers to friends.

May we have the wisdom and courage to do this work.

Amen.

Wealth Without Work

"Without the rich heart, wealth is an ugly beggar."
-- Emerson

Reading: by Charles J. Sykes from A Nation of Moochers – America’s Addiction to Getting Something for Nothing (p. 9) 

Is America becoming a country where the irresponsible and grasping increasingly live off of those who work, save, invest, and otherwise play by the rules? Have we reached the tipping point where more Americans are relying on the efforts of others rather than their own?

Are we becoming a nation of moochers?

We are very close to that point if we have not already crossed the line. From the corporate bailouts on Wall Street to the declining stigmas on default and dependency, the new moocher culture cuts across lines of class, race, and private and public sectors. Members of the middle class are increasingly as likely to become moochers as the poor; CEOs are as likely to belly up to the trough as the underprivileged; and the BlackBerry has emerged as a more effective tool for mooching than a tin cup. In the Great Bailout, an expensively educated, richly compensated, elaborately insulated, politically powerful, and well-connected elite toyed with the nation’s wealth and bailed themselves out at the expense of millions of waitresses, steamfitters, shopkeepers, schoolteachers, farmers, retirees – and their children and grandchildren – in what may turn out to be the greatest intergenerational transfer of wealth in history.

Reading: by Stephen Asma from Why I am a Buddhist – No-Nonsense Buddhism with Red Meat and Whiskey (p. 141) 

Whatever it is you happen to do, whether it is giving haircuts or running a country, you have to decide whether you will do it well or not. Many times, when I was working lame jobs for companies I didn’t care about, I’d slowly slouch toward idleness and lethargy. The company doesn’t know I exist, I’m utterly expendable, my labor goes unnoticed, I can’t even afford the product I’m working on, I don’t respect the management, and so on. Most of us have had this experience, and it transforms work into unqualified drudgery.

Buddhism, however, asks us to bracket out all those considerations – some of which may be entirely true – and asks us instead to focus on the task at hand, not matter how trivial it seems. If mindfulness can transform the simple act of sitting and breathing into an art form that nourishes the mind and the body, then imagine what it can do with work….

Reading: by Wendell Berry a poem entitled “The Real Work” 

It may be that when we no longer know what to do

we have come to our real work,

and that when we no longer know which way to go

we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

The impeded stream is the one that sings.

Musical Interlude: The Grasshopper and the Ant by Mabel Wood Hill

In a field one summer's day a Grasshopper chirped and hopped and chirped to his heart's content he was singing and hopping. An Ant came plodding by, dragging a grain of corn; Toiling, moiling, toiling, moiling, on to his nest. "Come with me, come chat with me," the Grasshopper sang and chirped and hopped, "Oh come with me 'stead of toiling and moiling!" But the Ant said "I'm laying up food for the winter that is coming. So should you, so should you, so should you!" When winter came the Ant had food, but the Grasshopper found himself dying.

Wealth Without Work

A Sermon Delivered on September 2, 2012

By

The Rev. Axel H. Gehrmann

This summer I had the opportunity to engage in some real work, climbing ladders and swinging hammers. I joined a few dozen other church folks, who were also lending a hand. We were all participants in a “build” organized by Habitat for Humanity, at which we help local families in economic need build their own home.

I don’t have a lot of experience in hands-on home maintenance. Changing light bulbs and very occasionally running a vacuum cleaner is about the extent of my expertise. So it was with some trepidation, that I approached the building site that Saturday morning, listening carefully to the instructions for the day. I decided to join a group tasked with putting up vinyl siding on the north side of the new house. With some guidance, and a lot of trial and error, I figured out how to measure and cut, align and affix the panels. It was scary and strenuous work for me, but, amazingly, I was able to get through the day without doing serious harm to myself or others with the power saw. And perhaps even more amazingly, despite my aching limbs and sunburned skin, I felt really good when our workday drew to a close. The progress we had made on the house was clearly visible, and working together with a bunch of friends was a lot of fun.

Later in the summer, I got a postcard in the mail informing me that the house had been completed. Now, whenever I drive past 508 East Beardsley Avenue in Champaign, I will look at that house with deep satisfaction and think: “we built that.” 

Habitat for Humanity does a great job bringing together community members to join in hands-on volunteer service. Its genius is that it links important tangible work with the strengthening of community bonds. This powerful experience is rekindled whenever we stop and remind ourselves, we built that.

* * *

Now, Habitat for Humanity is not the only group that understands the power of building something together. Last week at the Republican National Convention, the crux of the GOP’s message was captured in the pithy slogan: “We Built That.” The speakers on stage tried to point to the rewards of hard work, and revive the vision of a country in which discipline, independence, and self-reliance allow any hard-working citizen to achieve the American dream of prosperity and freedom. The vision of a country in which anyone, who is willing to work hard, can find a job and support a family.

It is a simple and compelling message that has been told in many different ways. Our children are taught early, in stories like “The Three Little Pigs,” that hard work pays off. Pigs that play all day build flimsy houses that are easily blow down by hungry wolves. Hard working pigs build brick houses that protect us from threat and storm. And when storm and danger have passed, and the house is still standing, the hard working people will point to their houses with justified pride and say, “we built that.”

Like the story of the hard-working ant in Aesop’s fable, who was toiling and moiling day in and day out, and the grasshopper who spent his summer hopping and chirping instead of working – the moral of the story is: hard work pays off. When winter comes, the ant has food, and the grasshopper starves.

Tit for tat. You reap what you sow. If you work you will be rewarded. If you don’t – well – that’s on you. This ancient message strikes a deep moral chord. It touches our human desire to be treated fairy, our deep human demand for justice.

This message can also touch into the righteous anger of anyone who has experienced injustice, anyone who has been treated unfairly, anyone who has worked hard, but has been denied the rewards of their hard work.

Imagine the two lazy pigs, whose houses of sticks and straw had been blown to smithereens, and who found safety within the walls of their friend’s brick house. Imagine them, once the wolf was gone and the dust had settled. Imagine them pointing to the house and saying to their hard working friend: “you didn’t build that.” -- Any child would know, those two lazy pigs are wrong.

“We Built That” is the slogan painted in giant letters in the Republican convention arena, and it is a response to something President Obama said at a talk in Roanoke, Virginia on July 13. Obama said, “If you’ve got a business – you didn’t build that. Somebody else made that happen.”

A comment like that is sure to rankle anyone who has worked hard to build a business. It is sure to touch a nerve for anyone who has ever worked hard, but didn’t receive a just reward for their labor – anyone passed over for promotion, anyone laid off through no fault of their own, anyone who has felt unappreciated or underpaid. 

In these tough economic times, millions of Americans are struggling to make ends meet. Millions are working hard – whether in paid or unpaid labor, whether on the job, or searching for a job - but they are not receiving the rewards they deserve. How can we make sense of this? 

* * * 

Charles Sykes believes the root of the problem lies in the fact that we are becoming a nation of moochers. Millions of us are working hard, and the reason we are nevertheless struggling, is that others are mooching off of us. Others are reaping the rewards of our hard work. Others are profiting from our productivity.

Who are these moochers, who live off our work and savings? Who are these people, who “milk the system” while we play by the rules?

Starting out in his book, he says, “our moocher culture cuts across lines of class, race, and private and public sectors.” He sees moochers among recipients of both welfare and corporate bailouts, both among the powerful and the underprivileged. 

I can see some wisdom in his analysis. And I confess, early on I had a hard time seeing where on the political spectrum the author was trying to make his mark. Who does he identify as the major perpetrators of moocherism? The victims are the little people: steamfitters, shopkeepers, schoolteachers, farmers, retirees – and their children and grandchildren. But who are the perpetrators? Are they the corporate CEOs, or the welfare recipients? Are they Wall Street executives or immigrants, documented and otherwise? Are they the recipients of bailouts and subsidies or the finders of tax loopholes?

To save you the trouble of reading the book, let me tell you: in the end, the biggest villain in our moocher culture, according to Charles Sykes, is the government. If only the government would get out of the way, we all would be better off.

* * *

“We built that,” is a rousing slogan that touches the heart. But it is not as simple as it sounds. For one thing, the presidential statement that provoked it was not quite as straightforward as the brief clip on Fox News put it. 

The point Obama was making in his words just leading up to “you didn’t build that,” was that “if you were successful, somebody along the line gave you some help.” And following up, he said, “when we succeed, we succeed because of our individual initiative, but also because we do things together.” He was echoing John Donne’s sentiment that no one is an island. 

* * *

The political theater that is gearing up this election season would have us believe that America is a deeply divided country, with two mutually incompatible political factions: Democratic and Republican, left and right. And never the twain shall meet.

But the truth is that we share much in common. The vast majority of Americans aspire to create a country in which we can work together to build a common good. The vast majority of Americans believe in fairness, in personal responsibility, and in the value of community bonds.

Wealth without work is an idea that rubs most of us the wrong way. Wealth without work, the title of this morning’s sermon, some of you may know, is one of seven social sins Mahatma Gandhi listed in an article back in 1925. The other social sins are: Politics without principles, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice.

In his efforts to free India from British rule, Gandhi engaged in grassroots organization and community building. In 1925 this involved founding the All-India Spinners’ Association. Its mission was to move toward economic independence, by empowering India’s people to spin their own cloth for their clothing. Every individual was encouraged to engage in this very concrete, traditional work. Gandhi himself did likewise throughout his life. He saw that the simple work of spinning had many levels of meaning. It was a symbolic act that reminded individuals of their power and responsibility, it fostered a sense of self-respect and self-reliance, as well as solidarity with other community members. And very tangibly it allowed Indian people to assert their independence of foreign-made cloth, imported by the British.

* * *

Any work we do has many levels of meaning. And that is why any work matters. Any work we do deserves attention and respect. And whatever we do, the Buddhist tells us, whether giving haircuts or running a country, we need to decide whether we will do it well or not.

If we see our jobs as lame and irrelevant, if we consider ourselves utterly expendable, and we feel our labor goes unnoticed, we will slouch towards idleness and lethargy. Our work will be transformed into unqualified drudgery.

But if we focus on the task at hand, even work that seems trivial can become an art form that nourishes body and mind. When we look deeply, we see that our every act has many, many levels of meaning, and even our simplest tasks can transform us.

* * *

I believe most Americans - both those on the left and on the right – agree our work matters, and that our work touches upon many powerful levels of meaning. I believe most Americans agree mooching is a problem. Though we may disagree on who, exactly, is doing most of the mooching. And so we may disagree on how best to solve the problem. But problems like these are best solved not in pitched political battles, but in thoughtful, respectful, and attentive examination and exchange.  

“We built that” is a slogan either side of the political spectrum could embrace. The most important of the three words is “we.” Not “I,” not “they,” but “we.” We built that together.

Maybe more important than anything we build, whether we build houses or cars or computers or schools, is that we remember that we built it together.

Choosing to work together, may involve doing things we have never done before, it may involve speaking with people we have never met before. It may mean working up to the point where we don’t know what to do next.

And maybe when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work. And maybe when we no longer know which way to go, we have come to our real journey.

May we find the courage and the faith

To find our real work

And to begin our real journey

Together.

Amen.