-- Georges Bernanos
Reading: by Rebecca Parker from an essay entitled “What Shall We Do with All This Beauty?” (Blessing the World: What Can Save Us Now, p. 123)
… We are living in an ugly time. I will not recite the litany of oppression, injustice, and environmental degradation because it is all too familiar, repeated before our eyes every day as we read the newspaper and watch the news…
The times we live in demand something of us. In fact, I believe they demand more from us than many of us ever expected. One of my friends says, “Everyone likes to have the best asked of them.” I believe that we are living in a time when the best is asked of us, and this best is far beyond what we thought we were capable of or what we thought we would ever be asked to do. I believe that in rising to the occasion of what is asked of us now, we will discover a depth of strength and richness of love and courage that we did not know we could claim or achieve. I believe that in rising to the challenge of our times we will wade into the mystery of life to a depth we did not know was available to us.
Reading: by William Schulz from an essay entitled “Our Concern for Social Justice” (A Unitarian Universalist Pocket Guide, 1983, p. 55)
Though it may be cliché by now, it is nonetheless still true that “not to decide is to decide,” that neutrality in the face of injustice is close to the equivalent of endorsement. This is most obvious when the institution itself is forced to be an active agent of the tyrannous as it was, for instance, during the Vietnam War when a 10% federal tax was placed on all telephone charges to pay for the war effort. To ignore the tax in that case, to carry on “business as usual,” was self-evidently to contribute to military operations. The inseparability of religion and politics is often more subtle but nevertheless quite real.
For every decision, whether tacit or explicit, about the use of our institutional resources, our power, is a political decision and a reflection of what we value. This is not to suggest, please understand, that the church’s only business or even its primary business ought to be social action. But it is to say that every act, including the tacit choice to remain passive, is a political statement with implications for the public realm…
The question, then, is not whether we possess the power and can use it but rather whether we are willing to use it, self-consciously and explicitly, in the interests of our ideals. The issue is whether we squander our power or incarnate it. Let me suggest that Unitarian Universalism at its best offers us impetus for incarnation.
Reading: by the psychologist and scholar of Eastern philosophy Ram Dass from How Can I Help? (co-authored by Paul Gorman, p. 5)
Caring is a reflex. Someone slips, your arm goes out. A car is in the ditch, you join the others and push. A colleague at work has the blues, you let her know you care. It all seems natural and appropriate. You live, you help.
When we join together in this spirit, action comes more effortlessly, and everybody ends up nourished. Girding against the flood… setting up a community meeting… preparing a funeral… people seem to know their part. We sense what’s called for, or if we don’t, and feel momentarily awkward, someone comes quickly with an idea, and it’s just right, and we’re grateful…
We take pleasure not only in what we did but in the way we did it. On the one hand, the effort was so natural it might seem pointless… to make something of it. It was what it was. Yet if we stop to consider why it felt so good, we sense that some deeper process was at work. Expressing our innate generosity, we experienced our “kin”-ship, our “kind”-ness. It was “Us.” In service we taste unity.
Faith in Action or Inaction
A Sermon Delivered on April 13, 2014
By
The Reverend Axel H. Gehrmann
Deeds not creeds. This is one of the catchy phrases Unitarian Universalists have long used to convey the essence of our faith. Deeds not creeds, means we are more interested in action, and less interested in arguments about the nature of God, doctrines on sin and salvation, or questions about life after death. We are more interested in this life, than the possibility of a next life. And if there is a possibility of heaven, we assume it is up to us to create it, beginning right here, right now. Deeds not creeds, we say.
Or as William Schulz puts it, “No matter what our theological beliefs, we… would be hard-pressed, I think, not to agree in some sense with the Koran that “one hour of justice is worth seventy years of prayer.” Religion to us must have an impact on the world.”
The task of putting our faith into action is at the very heart of our religious tradition and conviction. And that is why Nancy Dietrich’s remarks this morning about our next two-year initiative are really about much more than our Social Action Committee’s attempt to tackle one of the goals of our latest strategic plan. Our effort to promote justice is at the very heart of our congregation’s mission. More important than what we say, it is the practical application of our ideals. It is how we attempt to embody and incarnate our beliefs, and change the world.
This is what we say. But changing the world is easier said than done.
* * *
Part of our challenge going forward is that we are of many minds. We each have our own assumptions and our own convictions about what the biggest problems confronting us are. Is it population explosion? Is it corporate greed? Is it the overabundance of money in politics? Is it militarism? Is it poverty? Is it climate change?
Our celebrated differences and diversity of belief can make it difficult to reach agreement on what, exactly, we should do and what we should leave undone.
Rebecca Parker says we live in ugly times, and that in the face of injustice and oppression something is asked of us. What makes this all the more difficult, is that there is no universal agreement on how best to respond to the challenges of our time.
How shall we meet these challenges? Rebecca Parker writes,
“First of all, our times demand that we exercise our capacity for prophetic witness. By prophetic witness, I mean our ability to see what is happening, to say what is happening, and to ensure that our actions – personal and collective – accord with what we know… A prophet is one who is able to name those places in our lives where we are resisting what needs to be known, closing our eyes that what is really happening, silencing what the world is telling us. Silence and denial create an environment in which violence and evil flourish.
But to see what is happening, to say what is happening, and then to act in accordance with what we know is no simple task. It often means breaking down our own silence and numbness…”
Confronting the ugliness of our time can be profoundly dispiriting. Seeing the suffering, hearing the voices of the poor and powerless can be heartbreaking. Once we try to take on the injustices of the world, once we begin to educate ourselves, once we begin to understand some of the underlying causes and connections, it is easy to feel overwhelmed.
Exposing ourselves to the suffering of others can remind us of times when we ourselves were struggling through experiences of pain and powerlessness. If we try to open our minds and hearts to the grief and hardship of others, we may be reminded of times when we too were grieving and hurting. And so we may be tempted to fall into the habit of closing our eyes and ears. We turn our attention to the more manageable and immediate challenges of our own lives – holding down a job, supporting a family, maintaining a home.
The spiritual activist and teacher Joanna Macy believes that “the primary barrier that prevents us from doing what is necessary to save the planet is our inability to face the realities of our world.”
“We can watch the images flicker on our television screens, but to know what is happening fully, to feel it viscerally, to open ourselves to it completely is something that many of us cannot accomplish. We may see, but it is only out of the corners of our eyes. …Our despair keeps us from being able to see [clearly]. Through our inability to be present to the depths of our own grief and fear, we shut our eyes to the world,” she says.
At times when I feel overwhelmed by the ugliness and injustices that deserve my attention and engagement, I try to remind myself that we don’t have to do everything. In fact, we can’t. But we can do something. And in fact, we must.
And it is very helpful to be a part of a religious community like this one, which reminds me that I am not alone. I find inspiration and draw strength from others who share my concerns and who share my desire to somehow make a difference.
* * *
This morning we have heard of four important issues, each of which could potentially be a major focus of our congregational social justice efforts. If you have been reading the materials published in recent weeks, you may already have gained some background information on Environmental Stewardship, on Homelessness, on Immigrant Justice, and on Prison Justice. You may know about the issues surrounding the protection of the Mahomet Aquifer, or the environmental impact of the Keystone oil pipeline that runs from Western Canada to Illinois. You may know the number of homeless in our community in need of shelter, or the number of immigrants in need of advocacy and social services. You may know about the problems of mass incarceration in this country, which is yet another manifestation of insidious racism.
If you haven’t had a chance to educate yourself on these issues, I encourage you to do so. Gathering information and disseminating information, is one important first step, if our goal is to overcome silence and numbness, and to face the realities of the world.
Ram Dass says, when it comes to social action, it’s sometimes enough simply to share information with others: wage rates of women compared to men; the unemployment statistics of minorities; the number of children hungry and homeless. We trust these facts to speak for themselves. We believe the injustice will strike others as injustice, just as it struck us. We believe a sense of collective understanding and compassion will take hold.
But then things get trickier. As he points out,
“much of the time we come into social action – knocking on a door with a petition, addressing a meeting, writing a pamphlet – and we’re just a little self-righteous. We’re convinced we’ve got something to say, something we’re “correct” about…. Some of the time this attitude it blatant; at other times it’s more understated. But at some level what we’re communicating is the feeling that we know, others don’t, and we’ve got to Change Minds. Changing minds is a tricky game, especially when it is being fed with urgency and self-righteousness. There’s often an air of superiority in what we say. People instinctively back off. They feel they are being told [what they “should” do]. Social action, they understand intuitively, ought to be fully voluntary if it’s to have power and endurance. But we’re not quite leaving them enough room when we set about trying to change minds.” (p. 158)
These words certainly strike a chord for me. If I stop and think about it, I realize I have often taken on the role of someone who has something to say, with some very clear ideas about social wrongs, and very clear ideas on what I think others ought to do to make things right. I know I can sometimes be preachy… (Perhaps not surprising for a preacher.)
And I know that I have been on the receiving end of others’ sermons – whether preached from a pulpit, or delivered over a potluck dinner in casual conversation – that seem a bit self-righteous. And I have felt myself inwardly back off.
Sometimes, when we try to engage with others around issues of justice and injustice, we can find ourselves focusing on different issues. And the air of urgency and slight self-righteousness can end up leaving us stuck and divided – unable to agree on which course of action to take. We can end up like a crowd of cranky blind men and women, standing around an elephant, unable to agree whether we are dealing with a tree trunk, a branch or a rope, as we grab hold of a leg or trunk or tail.
* * *
Each of us can be a prophet. Each of us has the capacity to unleash prophetic powers. Each of us can open our eyes and ears to the world around us. We can open our minds and hearts to people around us, and to share our perceptions frankly and honestly and humbly.
The Unitarian Universalist scholar Dan McKanan recently published a book entitled Prophetic Encounters: Religion and the American Radical Tradition. In it, he documents a long and proud tradition of social activism in America. He links the abolitionist movement, the worker’s movement, and the environmentalist movement, highlighting the roles of leaders like Frederick Douglass, Dorothy Day and Starhawk.
It is a mistake to imagine these three as separate, self-contained movements, he says, for they are in fact all part of a larger, ongoing activist tradition. And this tradition draws on distinct religious themes. “Activism is almost a form of religion,” he says. “It occupies much of the same psychological and sociological space. People are drawn to religious communities and radical organizations in order to connect their daily routines to a more transcendent vision of heaven, salvation, or a new society.” (p. 4)
And like Rebecca Parker, Dan McKanan sees a prophetic dynamic at work. “[Whenever] human beings encounter one another deeply, in the midst of their struggles for freedom and equality and community, prophetic power is unleashed… Prophetic power enables people to speak boldly in the face of brickbats and bludgeons and fire hoses. It empowers them to tell new stories and build new communities.” (p. 3)
* * *
Each of us can be a prophet. Each of us has the capacity to unleash prophetic powers. Each of us can open our eyes and ears to the world around us. Each of us has the power to change the world.
The question is not whether we possess the power and can use it but rather whether we are willing to use it, self-consciously and explicitly, in the interests of our ideals, Schulz says.
Yes, we will face challenges. Yes, we must work to overcome our differences to build community and consensus. But our ability and our longing to do so is rooted in our deepest nature. Caring is a reflex. Someone slips, your arm goes out. A friend has the blues, you let her know you care. It all seems natural and appropriate. You live, you help. When we join together in this spirit, action comes more effortlessly, and everybody ends up nourished.
When we join together in service, we discover a depth of strength and richness of love and courage we did not know we could claim or achieve. And we will wade into the mystery and wonder of life to a depth we did not know was available to us.
We don’t have to do everything. In fact, we can’t. But we can do something. And in fact, we must. We can get involved. We can join the conversation. (We can vote.) We can do our part to help build community, seek inspiration, promote justice, and find peace.
May we find new depths of courage and commitment.
May we be inspired to join together in service.
May we open our eyes and ears,
and do our part to build a better world.
Amen.
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