Respect for Persons (PDF)
Address by David Crossley, October 19, 2008
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Respect for Persons (PDF) Address by David Crossley, October 19, 2008 September Homily (PDF) Address by Gary Groot, September 7, 2008 A_Woman_Alone_and_Spirituality (PDF) Address by Wendy Weseen, July 27, 2008 Address by Ann Coxworth, January 6, 2008 A few weeks ago, during the response period in a service about the roots of North American Unitarianism, Ivan raised the issue of our use of the word “faith” in Unitarian circles. It’s one of those words borrowed from traditional religion – words like “church”, “worship”, “reverend” – that we have tended to try to re-define to have meaning for us. I share Ivan’s discomfort with much of this re-definition, but at the same time I have often found myself wondering what to do about the gap that’s left when we cut these rather loaded words out of our vocabulary. This has prompted me to dig out a talk that I delivered two and a half years ago, at a time when we, as a congregation, had been going through a period of attempting to re-define ourselves by creating a new statement of mission. I had been browsing through the McNally Robinson bookstore newsletter and my attention was caught by the title of a book, “The End of Faith” by Sam Harris. I hadn’t read the book, and I didn’t know anything about it or its author – but this is how the bookstore promotion started its comments: “The End of Faith – In the shadow of weapons of mass destruction, Harris argues that we can no longer tolerate views that pit one true god against another. Even moderate lip service to religion blinds us to the perils of fundamentalism.” Hmmm! While I find myself agreeing that the kind of faith that pits one true god against another is fraught with danger, I’m not sure whether that does indeed imply the need for the end of faith. When I was a kid in Britain, during the war, there used to be a very popular radio program on the BBC called The Brains Trust. The format was that a panel of very brainy and very articulate people would discuss philosophical, ethical, scientific, cultural questions sent in by listeners. My parents used to listen to The Brains Trust all the time, so I got exposed to it well before I could really appreciate the discussion. What I remember about it is one of the panelists, a Professor Joad. Professor Joad was famous for starting each response to a philosophical or ethical question with the preamble, “Well, it all depends what you mean by…….”. So, the question “Does God exist?” would elicit the initial response, “Well, it all depends what you mean by God.” I think if we were to ask Professor Joad, who is doubtless long dead by now, whether faith is still valid, or useful, or desirable, he would start off by saying, “Well, it all depends what you mean by faith”. So, in memory of Professor Joad, whoever he was and wherever he is now, I’d like to have us spend this morning thinking about what we mean by faith, and whether it is a word that can have relevance for us. It’s a word people still use a lot, and it’s a strong, heavy-duty kind of word. It’s often loaded with feeling. But also, it’s sometimes used very mechanically. So where do we start? Well, one place that I’ve run up against the term “faith” is in my environmental work. As environmental activists we often think about how to communicate with various influential sectors of the community, sectors whose concerns may overlap with ours. The same, I’m sure, is true of peace activists, or anti-poverty activists, or of any group that has a message that it wants to communicate to the larger society. Rather than thinking about the larger society around us as being homogenous, we find it useful to mentally divide society into sub-groups that are more homogeneous. As activists we talk, for example, about the labour movement as a sector within society as a whole. We assume that people within that sector have certain common interests and concerns, and we have to think about how to most effectively communicate our message to people with those particular concerns and interests. What is the kind of language to which they will pay attention? Similarly we talk about the business community, the academic community, the Aboriginal community. These are ways of sub-dividing society as a whole into sub-groups who should perhaps be approached in different ways. And amongst those sub-groups, we recognize that there is an important sector of the community made up of people who are, in the broad sense of the word, religious – people who are significantly influenced by their church, their synagogue, temple or mosque, by their scriptures, their group’s ethical concepts, or their spiritual leaders – and because several religious organizations have something to say about the sacredness of the earth, or about man’s relationship to nature – this seems like an important sector for environmentalists to communicate with. The generic, inclusive term that we use to refer to this sector is “the faith community”, which is supposed to embrace all kinds of groups that fit into that tax-exempt, religious organization status that we Unitarians enjoy. As Unitarians, we are often lumped in with traditionally religious organizations under this generic heading of “faith communities”. So I find myself wondering whether we really belong there, and if so, what that term might mean to us. Here’s another way in which some use the word faith. Some Unitarians have taken to using the expression “in faith” as a way of signing letters. Instead of “yours sincerely”, we sometimes see “in faith”. I’ve often meant to ask people who use this expression just what it is they are trying to communicate through these two little words. Then there’s the expression “Keeping the faith”. Keeping the faith implies loyalty; “Being faithful” implies sticking exclusively with your mate, or, if you are a dog, sticking with your master, whatever the circumstances. Interestingly, Faithfulness, or loyalty is generally perceived as a virtue, regardless of the object of faith. Do we see it that way? For traditional Christians, faith seems to mean much the same as belief. I took a look at Billy Graham’s website – there’s a question and answer section there where Graham’s staff respond to queries from the public: For example: Question: Aren’t there many good religious writings and religions that can show us the way to know god and experience eternal life? Answer: Mr. Graham believes there is only one infallible standard – the Bible, God’s word. In it God has revealed all we need to know and all we can know about Himself. A true faith is based on the word of God, while a faith that is based only on the ideas of men is not reliable……We believe that Jesus Christ alone gave us the full truth about God. Was Jesus whom he claimed to be? Yes! How do we know? Because he rose again from the dead. This act forever sets Jesus apart from all the religious leaders of the world. And it also means that He alone can forgive us and save us. This is a statement of faith, and an example of the Fundamentalist Christian belief that sinners can be saved from damnation only by faith in God’s grace. A faith, or a belief, that forgiveness has been purchased by the death of Jesus. What you believe determines whether or not you are one of the saved. “Those who believe in me shall have everlasting life”, Jesus is reputed to have said. This means that an ability to believe, in the absence of physical evidence, is the requirement for salvation. There is no place for doubt. So if belief really were so darned important, we’d need to be very clear about just what it is that we believe. Some years ago, we had a service here in which several of us were asked to speak briefly about, “What I believe”. I was one of the people on this panel. And in preparing for it, I came to realize that there is hardly anything that I believe absolutely, other than abstract mathematical truths. I do not have absolute faith that the sun will rise tomorrow morning, although I will be extremely surprised if it doesn’t. I regularly gamble my life on the probability that the force of gravity works the same way at all times, everywhere, but yet I can entertain the possibility that this may sometime, somewhere, be shown to be invalid. The sliver of doubt is always there – not necessarily causing any discomfort. On more metaphysical questions such as “Is there life after death?” I can do no more than speculate in the absence of scientific evidence. I find it extremely interesting to speculate about such questions, but I am not even looking for absolute answers. So I am not a believer. I don’t think there is anything which I believe so strongly that I would refuse to consider contrary evidence or ideas. But as a non-believer, does that automatically mean that I don’t have a faith? The thing that got me started thinking about this again was the publication of a book by Michael Ruse called “The Evolution-Creation Struggle”. Ruse is a confirmed evolutionist, very involved in the American argument about the teaching of creationism in schools. His book is not so much designed to convince the world of the correctness of the theory of evolution and the errors of creationism, but rather to expose the dangers of taking “faith positions” on such an issue. His book has provoked a number of very interesting reviews that investigate this whole confusion between belief and faith. For example, Richard Dawkins, in his review, describes faith as one of the world’s great evils, “comparable to the smallpox virus but harder to eradicate”. He defines faith as “belief that isn’t based on evidence”, as distinct from science that is based on verifiable facts. But another reviewer, Karen Armstrong, an ex-Roman Catholic nun, says that the popular conviction that science and faith are diametrically opposed is based on an erroneous assumption, that is, the assumption that faith is synonymous with belief, and that to be religious, people must accept certain belief positions. On the contrary, she says, in most of the great religions theology is regarded at best as a kind of poetry about matters that must, by their very nature, elude definition. The Koran, she says, regards theological speculation as self-indulgent guesswork about matters that nobody can prove one way or the other. Every single verse, every story told in the Koran, she says, is a parable, because it is only possible to talk about the indescribable god in terms of signs and symbols. We’re not intended to interpret these stories literally. Hence, she says, Darwin and his evolutionary theory have raised scarcely a ripple of concern in the Muslim world. Moreover, she claims, the creation myths in the Judeo-Christian bible were never intended as definitive dogma either. She thinks they were written to serve a social purpose at the time. The Genesis story imagines Yahweh, the God of the old testament, summoning all things into being with a mere word of command. At the time this creation story is believed to have been written, in the 6th century BC, most other Middle Eastern cosmologies were extremely violent. Genesis Chapter I was revolutionary in its time in omitting all violence from the act of creation. This calm creation story was intended, says Karen Armstrong, as a healing vision, designed, she claims, to console the traumatized deportees for whom it was written. Cosmologies, she says, were originally therapeutic in function. In the pre-modern world, it was generally understood that there were two ways of arriving at truth. Plato called them mythos and logos. Logos (what we call reason or science) was exact, practical and testable. To be effective it had to correspond to external reality. Myth, on the other hand, expressed the more puzzling, elusive aspects of human experience. It has often been called a form of psychology, a tool which helped people negotiate their inner world. If you became a refugee, or witnessed a terrible natural catastrophe, you did not simply want a logical explanation; you also wanted myth to show you how to manage your grief. With the advent of our scientific modernity, however, logos, the scientific approach, has achieved such spectacular results that myth has become discredited, and now, in common speech, myth is something that didn’t happen, an untrue story. The problem comes when some religious people, such as the Christian fundamentalists, began to read religious myths as though they were logos. So belief in the literal truth of the myth has, for them, become the basis of a faith. Armstrong suggests that it’s very important to distinguish between belief and faith. So if faith is not the same as belief, what else can it be? An interesting insight for me came in an article in New Scientist about suicide bombers, specifically suicide bombers who had grown up in Britain. The writer, Michael Bond, was thinking about the fact that studies of the personalities of suicide bombers has shown that they are generally not what we would regard as crazy people. They are apparently better off than average for their community, and better educated. They are also rarely suicidal in the pathological sense. Few have symptoms of mental illness or drug abuse. They don’t even have to be religious extremists. So, Michael Bond wondered, how can comfortably-off, well-educated young men, born and brought up in Britain, be turned into people who end up sacrificing themselves and killing civilians for a cause that seems a long way from their daily life? The answer, he says, is, it happens much more easily than you might imagine. Suicide attacks in modern times are all conceived and organized by militant groups, and they all use the same methods. First, they find people, usually young and male, who are sympathetic to the group’s cause, and they organize them into small units. Secondly they exploit their motivation to fight for the cause, using religious or political indoctrination, emphasizing the nobility of self-sacrifice. Thirdly, and this is the key point, they have all the members of the unit make a pact declaring their commitment to what they are about to do, their commitment to die and to kill the innocent. Beyond this point of mutual commitment, it’s psychologically very hard for them to back out. The sense of commitment to a small group of peers can turn just about anybody into a potential suicide bomber; the crucial factor is not the psychology of the individual but that of the group. Faith, life-changing faith, here is based on loyalty and commitment to the group, rather than to an ideology. So perhaps faith can more accurately be defined as “that to which I give my heart”. Faith may not really be a matter of what I believe, what version of the origin of the universe I prefer to work with, or whether I find it more helpful to think of Jesus as born of a virgin or as having a biological father. Or even, whether I find the concept of salvation through the cross as a useful way of governing my behaviour. What you may or may not believe about such concepts may have no relevance for your real faith, in the sense of what you give your heart to. Personally, I think that one of the things that I have given my heart to is the ideal of protecting the earth from further degradation. I live with hope that it is possible to change human society into ways of living and interacting that are more earth-friendly. I am committed to trying to live on the basis of such hope. Perhaps hope and commitment together make up faith. Most importantly, I experience a personal commitment to a group of people who share that ideal, and to some extent my behaviour is shaped by a sense of loyalty to that group. My faith, if you will, is defined and strengthened by the group. But it’s not a faith that is dependant on a specific belief. Rather it’s a bond that comes from a shared hope and shared commitment. For me as an individual, I could interpret this as my faith. But what about us as Unitarians, as a group that is regarded as a “faith community”? I think one of our challenges as a congregation or as a movement is that we have difficulty defining a common hope, a common commitment, a common faith, using the word faith in the sense of “what we give our hearts to”. As individuals, I think most of us could be described as people of commitment – we each have values to which we are committed, we have groups to whom we are very loyal. Our mission statement process three years ago was an attempt to get at this question as a whole congregation. What is it that we collectively give our hearts to? In that process of developing our mission statement we came to a fairly strong consensus that we are committed to dialogue across differences. Our mission statement says “We are a community, founded on freedom of religious thought and exploration , which strives to speak with honesty, listen with respect, reason with compassion, and live our principles.” And let’s also read those principles, which we say we strive to live by: “We affirm and promote our principles: This is a pretty important commitment in a world that is torn apart by ideologies, by differing priorities, cultural expectations, values and aspirations. Is this common commitment our faith? And is it enough to allow us to call ourselves a faith community? Address by Bryan Carroll, November 25, 2007 The Unitarian tradition has existed for more than five centuries. The Universalist tradition is historically younger. Both traditions, at least until the twentieth century, were clearly religious. Today, North American Unitarians and Universalists recognize as one source of knowledge and insight, “Wisdom from the world’s religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life.” You can read these words inside the front cover of our hymnbook, as one of seven sources of our living tradition. Since I don’t believe any theology, including Unitarian Universalist theologies, I don’t have any emotional vested interest in promoting or discrediting any particular tradition. I have my own understanding of spirituality and my own non-religious definitions of sacred. It’s true that some religious traditions and teachings feel more compatible to me than others, but I believe that this is a matter of what I call temperament. I think that we do have psychological differences that are shaped by our genetic inheritance and by very early childhood experiences, and this is what I mean by temperament For a long time now, I’ve also had a habit of seeking out people whose ideas, opinions, and perspectives are different from mine. I often listen to and read books and articles written by people with whom I expect to strongly disagree. These are the credentials that I offer you this morning. As a Unitarian, I have a personal commitment to respect everyone’s freedom to find and choose his or her own personal beliefs. I’m not trying to convert anyone to my viewpoint, although I’m aware that some of what I say may cause you to re-examine some of your own beliefs. I’ve talked this much about myself because I want my personal bias to be out in the open before I go any further. All tribal people, to my knowledge, perceive themselves as part of nature. There is no clear line dividing the lives of people from the lives of other animals, or plants, or the forces of nature. In fact all things – wind, water, fire, trees, birds, spiders, insects – are usually believed to have personalities and motivations similar to those of people. Everything is inter-connected, not as an abstract philosophical idea, but as a literal reality. If a person drowns in a river, it is assumed that they had offended the river-spirit. If someone is sick, then they must be bewitched, or possessed, or out of balance with some natural force. When you encounter these belief systems, they often seem to be full of bizarre superstitions intermingled with acute observation, practical problem solving, naïve beliefs, violent passions, and profound insights. The similar stories and mythological beings that appear and reappear within the amazing diversity of aboriginal belief systems may be a response to a universal spiritual reality, or perhaps they are the result of people with essentially the same DNA responding to living on the same planet. I can say with considerable confidence that the tribal people who lived these beliefs knew how they understood the world, but knew very little about other people’s beliefs. I think not. There were certainly many similarities in the world views of the old religions, and values and standards of behaviour were taught; however, they seem to have been specific to each god and goddess rather than universal. People were taught to live as their gods and goddesses wished them to live. That might be to practice compassion, honesty and fairness, but it might just as well be ruthless extermination of one’s enemies, deceitfulness, or enforcement of slavery. An individual could practise sexual abstinence or sexual excess and everything in between; he or she might renounce wealth and power or value them above all else; they would find a deity to serve and worship. The gods and goddesses of cities were conquering deities and prayers to them usually translate to a variation of, “My god’s bigger than your god.” If one city successfully conquered another, the people on both sides probably believed that the conquering god was stronger, or that his (or her) people had been more scrupulous in their religious rituals. Everyone knew that deities sometimes withdrew their support from those who didn’t worship them properly. The losers, whether in war or economic competition or the caste of their birth, were clearly out of divine favour; and since the goddesses and gods who controlled and ruled the world knew more than any human, what person dared to question their judgments? The Christian Bible is a classic example. Christians, who were originally Jews, kept the entire Hebrew Bible and added their own to it. If you read them separately, I think it’s impossible to see them as anything but two separate religious traditions except by an act of faith. Wherever this mixing of old and new religious traditions has taken place, much effort has been expended to explain why the apparent contradictions aren’t in fact contradictions. I’ve read a lot of it and I have to tell you that I remain unconvinced. I think that the Song of Songs in the Hebrew Bible is a description of sexual love, not the love of Christ for his Church. I think that the Bhagavad-Gita is about fighting a bloody battle. I think that Islamic jihad is tribal conquest. I think that the ancient Chinese texts that explain how to use an understanding of the Tao to succeed at warfare are about how to use an understanding of the Tao to succeed at warfare. I’m not saying that you can’t use sacred texts as allegory or that the allegorical meaning can’t also be true, only that I don’t believe they were written originally as purely allegorical texts. I think that we should be very cautious when we try to understand any traditional teaching outside of its original cultural context. After all, the Greek marble statues that we display in museums and admire for their beauty and simplicity of form would be seen as ugly by any Greek from the time when they were carved. The ancient Greeks painted their marble statues with bright colours. WHAT IS ULTIMATE TRUTH?I’m not going to talk about the everyday virtues – compassion, generosity, honesty, integrity, moderation, and other similar qualities. These values are not exclusive to religious teaching and religious traditions do not see virtuous behaviour as an end in itself. I want to examine more fundamental values. Regarding the nature of truth: yes, religious teaching is in fundamental agreement. This is what we are told: Some religions teach that spiritual reality is perfect and exists as pure goodness, some that it is a battlefield of good and evil forces, some that it exists beyond any concept of good or evil. Explanations of the temporal universe vary: some say that the reality that we experience is an illusion, or that it is a real but ephemeral and unimportant event; some say that it is evil or that it is an imperfect corruption of the spiritual realm; still others that it is an essential stage of our spiritual development. The existence of this spiritual reality is asserted as self-evident; therefore, no evidence is presented to support this belief. It is also an uncompromising viewpoint. What we call science is irrelevant to spiritual truth. Any evidence or reasoning that appears to contradict the teachings of spiritual truth is judged to be mistaken or evil. WHAT IS THE NATURE OF JUSTICE?This appears to be another area of strong agreement and one that we can wholeheartedly support; that society should be governed by the principles of fairness and impartiality, tempered with compassion; that is, until you look more closely at the religious definitions of order in the world. Here is the basic reasoning of religious teaching regarding justice: WHAT IS THE PLACE OF LOVE? This question is more difficult to answer because some words don’t translate well from one language and culture to another. In English, we don’t have separate words for spiritual love, sexual love, love of family, and so on. For this reason, many words with different shades of meaning become “love” in English translation. The only definition of spiritual love that seems to work in religious contexts is love as unconditional acceptance. I think that this is what Unitarian Universalists usually mean when they speak of love. In some traditions (for example, Christianity), this type of love is seen as a divine quality to be imitated. Some Buddhists use the term love to describe acceptance of all things as they are without personal needs or desires. Love as passion is usually seen as a sin, a distraction from true spiritual development, or at best a dangerous emotion that must be controlled. Although some religious traditions describe sexual love as a spiritual gift, it is rarely seen as a path to spiritual development. Brotherly and sisterly love in a spiritual sense is much more common. The members of religious communities often encourage this type of love among the community of believers, but only rarely extend it to unbelievers. To say that all religious traditions teach love only stands until you try to define what is meant by the words that have been translated into English as “love”. Love is a many-faceted quality and emotion. All religions encourage and value some forms of love. However, on closer scrutiny, it’s clear that different religious traditions are very selective here and usually condemn other expressions of what we call love. DO RELIGIONS TEACH TOLERANCE AND ACCEPTANCE? THE ROLE OF MEN AND WOMEN All the major religious traditions are in agreement about the place of women in society. Women are to be subservient to men. In most cases, the teaching is that they should be valued, cherished, and protected, but not trusted. On a personal level, what is seen as the correct place of women in relation to men varies considerably: almost equal partners; the essential foundation of home and family; servants to their husbands, fathers, and brothers; an unfortunate necessity; a temptation and distraction from spiritual activity; the personification of sin. I think it’s important to remember that these beliefs are based on what is understood as the correct spiritual role of women. At best, you can find a belief in spiritual equality and separate but equal status in the temporal world. I note with interest that this is the same concept that was used to defend racial segregation in the United States until it was struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court. Our understanding of the equality of men and women is, like our concept of justice, an idea that was developed mainly by people who rejected religious tradition. I haven’t found any religious tradition that teaches temporal as well as spiritual equality for men and women. It’s true that many individuals have adopted this belief without abandoning their religious faith, but they have followed in the path of secular dissenters. Have we answered our question? I leave that for each of you to decide. Speaking for myself, I know a fair amount about religious tradition and teaching and, most of the time, it’s not what I believe. That doesn’t mean that I don’t think we can learn from humanity’s spiritual traditions. I also acknowledge that for many people, these are their expressions of deepest meaning, although this is not always easy for me to accept and I often struggle to understand. I’m speaking now as a member of a specific Unitarian community. One of our expressions of why we exist is the phrase “Freedom of Religious Thought”. Only in secular societies has this principle been affirmed. To my knowledge, no society dominated by any religious tradition has ever accepted the principle of freedom of religious thought. A few thoughtful and often courageous individuals like King Sigismund of Transylvania, the only Unitarian king in Western history, have acted to promote tolerance and freedom, but religious authorities, acting with the support of the larger part of the community of believers, have always undone those actions when they had the power to do so. It’s true that all the major faith traditions now have liberal religious expressions, but these are a small minority in the world. Readings for the Service Islam – Opening Words of the Koran From the Christian Bible India – the Tradition of Yoga Virtues and Rules for Living The Words of a Vietnamese Buddhist Monk – from a book published in 1995 From the Hebrew Bible China – Confucian Teaching – approximately 100 B.C.E From the Christian Bible For a man ought not to have his head covered, since he is the image and glory of God; Wives, be subject to your own husbands, as to the Lord, From the Hindu Tradition Believers and Unbelievers The second: They are atheists and of weak intellect, and continually remain sunk in the depths of misery and pain who do not believe in, know, and commune with him who is resplendent, all-glorious, all-holy, all-knowledge, sustainer of the sun and other planets… From the Koran From the Hebrew Bible The Words of Billy Graham, Christian Evangelist From the Koran Those who believe fight in the cause of Allah, and those who reject faith fight in the cause of Evil: so fight against the friends of Satan: feeble indeed is the cunning of Satan. |
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