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Jewish Voices and the Christian Spirit A Worship Service on the Fourth Source of Unitarian Universalism The Reverend Mark W. Christian—First Unitarian Church of Oklahoma City Sunday February 23, 2003
Reading From “Unitarian
Christianity” We profess not to know a book, which demands a more frequent exercise of reason than the Bible. In addition to…its infinite connexions, we may observe, that its style nowhere affects the precision of science, or the accuracy of definition. Its language is singularly glowing, bold, and figurative, demanding more frequent departures from the literal sense, than that of our own age and country, and consequently demanding more continual exercise of judgment. -- We find, too, that the different portions of this book, instead of being confined to general truths, refer perpetually to the times when they were written, to states of society, to modes of thinking, to controversies in the church, to feelings and usage’s which have passed away, and without the knowledge of which we are constantly in danger of extending to all times, and places, what was of temporary and local application. -- We find, too, that some of these books are strongly marked by the genius and character of their respective writers, that the Holy Spirit did not so guide the Apostles as to suspend the peculiarities of their minds, and that a knowledge of their feelings, and of the influences under which they were placed, is one of the preparations for understanding their writings. With these views of the Bible, we feel it our bounden duty to exercise our reason upon it perpetually, to compare, to infer, to look beyond the letter to the spirit, to seek in the nature of the subject, and the aim of the writer, (its) true meaning; and, in general, to make use of what is known, for explaining what is difficult, and for discovering new truths.
Prayer and Meditation “Beholden“ Arthur Foote Every day of my life I live beholden to others. I am beholden to those who have been guardians of the human heritage of knowledge and wisdom, stewards of the truths, beauties and goodnesses which are our human legacy: my life is wondrously enhanced by those who have gone before. I am beholden to creative spirits – wordsmiths, smearers of pigment, chiselers of marble, midwives of music – all who have opened my eyes and ears to beauty; and to those thinkers of deep thoughts, who have looked beyond the known into the unknown: their creations and wisdom guide my way. I am beholden to all those who have sought new truths, confident that new light will break forth to illumine our way into the future: they have enabled me to live more adequately upon the earth. I am beholden to those who from my cradle have befriended me, whose kindnesses have renewed my hope, whose encouragement has restored my faith, whose love has taught me the meaning of love and enabled me to be more loving: they have made the world seem a friendlier place and give meaning to my days. O my soul, seeing that I am so deeply in debt, shall I not give thanks for the richness of life and the goodness of being? Shall I not accept the days of my years with gladness, and endeavor to give back in return into the lives of others what is in my power to give, through kindness and cheerfulness, thoughtfulness and honesty, loyalty, braver and honor?
Jewish Voices and the Christian Spirit A Sermon on the Fourth Source of Unitarian Universalism by the Reverend Mark W. Christian Delivered to the First Unitarian Church of Oklahoma City Sunday February 23, 2003
Sometimes we go weeks in this church without focusing much on the Bible. Why do you suppose that is? The Bible is in the very air we breathe here. Lots of places believe themselves to be in the heart of the Bible-Belt but we KNOW exactly where that the buckle is, don’t we? So, how can we manage to look away from the Bible so regularly? Both our Unitarian and Universalist ancestors understood themselves to be Christians through and through. They didn’t see themselves as heretical Christians, qualified or hyphenated Christians. They saw themselves as Christians on the truest path the Bible showed. These days when I maintain that our tradition is still part of Protestantism even though the majority of our members don’t understand themselves as Christian I get quizzical looks and sometimes vociferous disagreement. Why do you suppose that is? The fourth source of our living tradition maintains that one of our sources is “Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves.” How is that source alive with us today? Can we be true to that source when the Bible is sometimes little more than footnote or historical anecdote to us? I don’t know. I pray that today we might find insight into these things. A decade ago, I had just begun formal ministerial preparation at Phillips Theological Seminary. The very first event I attended at Phillips was a “Student/Faculty” retreat. At one point that day I had a conversation with the Seminary’s new President that I still remember vividly. I told the seminary’s President that I planned to work overtime in terms of biblical studies. I explained that having grown up a Unitarian I was sure that I was “behind the curve” when it comes to the Bible. The seminary president listened and then quietly replied. “I don’t think you’ll have too big a problem. You already know you don’t know what’s in the Bible. For some of your classmates that will be a very painful discovery.” He was right. Looking back, starting with few hard-and-fast presumptions about the Bible probably did provide something of an advantage. The other awakening I had, though, was that I was not nearly as biblically illiterate as I had imagined. Even before taking a single course in biblical studies, I discovered that I used biblical illustrations all the time. I found that I already drew freely from the myths, metaphors, stories and sayings of the Bible. So much for being insulated from the Bible just because you’re a Unitarian. I am now convinced that the Bible is in the very air we breathe. It is so firmly established as part of our cultural mythos that we cannot help but draw upon biblical stories as we go about the business of living. The question is not whether or not we are influenced by the Bible—but how we are influenced and if we are influenced by the Bible in a way that it consistent with the highest and most noble ideals of the traditions to which it has given birth. Ours, I tell you, is one such tradition. Today’s sermon is fourth in a series on the identified sources of our living tradition—“Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves.” In many ways this is our most organic, our most natural, source. It is also, I suspect, the source of our tradition that we have the most challenge coming to terms with—it is the part of who-we-are that fosters our most extreme ambivalence. The etymology of that word—ambivalence—may be useful in understanding our relationship with Jewish and Christian teachings. “Ambi” is derived from a Latin word, which means “Both sides.” We find its meanings in words like ambidextrous. “Velance” is derived from a word that means “Vigor.” Therefore, to be ambivalent is to draw vigor from both sides of something. It is the classical “love-hate” relationship. It is, perhaps, that same sense of being uncomfortable around people who remind you too much of yourself. We Unitarians often display a Love-Hate relationship with the Bible and perhaps our ambivalence toward Jewish and Christian teachings is that they remind us too much of ourselves. I certainly have felt that double directed draw to be alive in my life. I entered seminary thinking myself immune to biblical thought and narrative. I was pretty well versed in the writings of Joseph Campbell on myth and Alan Watts on Eastern Religion—but somehow I didn’t imagine that the biblical narrative had much of a hold on me. It wasn’t too long before I became swept up in the stories of Genesis and Exodus, of Abraham, Moses, Elijah and the great teachers of the Jewish tradition. I soon began to see my spiritual path in the stories of Jesus’ teachings and preachings. I even came to understand Paul’s mission and to appreciate the book of Revelation—may miracles never cease! One of my most respected colleagues is Burton Carley who serves “Church of the River” which sits high on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi in Memphis. I stumbled across something he wrote and I have it posted on the bulletin board next to my desk because it expresses part of what I feel so very clearly. Burton writes of his spiritual journey— The song of the sirens does not draw me to the Greek gods. Born in the desert, far from the sea, something of the Semitic spirit entered me and the hound of heaven offers no rest. I have yielded myself to the biblical drama, living among its metaphors and poetic language. I feel compelled to bear witness to its meaning in my life. I am, and fancy I shall always be, simply a preacher dramatizing the human condition. Part of me was, and is still, deeply drawn to the biblical drama—to the metaphors, poetry and language of the Bible. For a time, I came to understand my spiritual path as that of a Christian. Unlike our ancestors, though, I felt I had to qualify that statement—mine was the path of a heretical Christian, of a Christian-Humanist. It didn’t take long before I felt less of a direct kinship with Christianity. It is more that Christianity is one of the rivers flowing into my Soul than Christianity as the Sea of my Spirit itself. I suspect my sense of being drawn toward and drifting away from the biblical drama is a common one for life-long Unitarians who enter seminary. It is, I suppose, part of the process. It is probably a corollary to the well-known tendency of Medical Students who find themselves symptomatic of every disease that they study. There is probably even an inverse phenomenon in lifelong Christians who begin formal academic study—they are probably driven away from the centrality of the Bible before finding themselves irresistibly drawn back toward its myth, meaning and wisdom. This is all a way of affirming that the biblical drama—the wisdom of the Jewish and Christian traditions are very much a source of the Living Tradition that our church embodies today. The Jewish and Christian scriptures are a rich and fertile field and I suspect it is folly for us to ignore them as much as we do. Now, there are some who say it is a “Take it or leave it” proposition. Either you buy the whole lot or you don’t. The only thing I can say is that this is not our way. That is the way of “Creedal” religion—claiming that everyone must believe the same thing to gather as a religious body. Ours, instead, is a faith that is centered on promise more than belief and on covenant over creed. Eclecticism, maintaining differences and boundaries, is to our “Covenantal” tradition what Syncretism is to Creedal Religion. Christianity and Judaism are alive today because of their ability to syncretize, to adapt, into their settings. Differences are internalized, reinterpreted and expressed as different understandings of the same reality. That’s why when the followers of Abraham encountered others, they were convinced that the various tribal gods were really different ways of understanding the one true God. Schema Israel Adonai Elihenu Adonia Echad—Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God is One God. The history of the patriarch Abraham is one of assembling a nation—of bringing together the worshipers of many gods into the worship of one God. Christianity did the same thing. It took the inherently Jewish story of the Messiah and translated it into the myth, metaphor and understandings of the Greek world—“There is no longer male nor female, free nor slave, Jew nor Gentile—all are one in Christ Jesus.” As Christianity spread, it similarly incorporated the native religious traditions it encountered. That is why the word Easter is derived from a much older Celtic religious word. That is why Catholicism in Eastern Europe, Mexico, Meso and South America takes on particular ethnic flavors. Christianity has a tendency to synchronize and synthesize the different religions in encounters. That is part of its power and vitality. Our approach, though, is different. At least when we are true to our highest ideals—our approach is different. We don’t want to erase the differences, we want to let the differences resonate with each other. Our hope is to live into the vitality of that resonance and creative tension. I am hard pressed to identify where this strand enters into our tradition—most likely, it is tied up in Enlightenment thought and the birth of Scientific principle and process—but that is fodder for a different day. Today what is important is that this predilection for difference over assimilation is even visible in how we approach the Bible. Unitarians are much more likely than just about any group outside of Judaism to see the Christian and Jewish traditions as separate and inherently viable and vital. When I was in seminary, you were to study “Old Testament” and “New Testament.” I had a lengthy conversation in class one day when I was asked why I routinely referred to the “Old Testament” as the “Hebrew Scriptures.” My answer is that “Old” implies “New” and that I wanted, in so far as possible, to understand these texts on their own and not in the light of each other. If you use Christianity as your vantage-point, you tend to read the Pentateuch, the Prophets and the Wisdom literature in a particular way. Seeing these writings as complete—without the presumption of something that comes later—may lead to radically different understandings. This is, to me, a very important distinction. It is a common one among Unitarian Universalists. It is also increasingly common among mainline seminaries and biblical historians. It is one example of our tendency toward multiple sources as opposed to a syncretized source of revelation. I am afraid that because the culture we live in so thoroughly effused with the Bible that we sometimes are afraid to look to it because of “Guilt by association.” I think we sometimes feel that if we admit that the Bible speaks to us, or ministers to our spirit, that it means our next stop is Baptist Church just around the corner from wherever we are. We are sometimes afraid that if we are known to be “Bible Readers” then someone will accuse us of being “One of them.” Part of me says “Egad!” Part of me says “So what?” We don’t have to be afraid of these things. Part of our commitment to multiple and differentiated sources of inspiration is an acceptance that, when we are truest to our traditions, differences don’t really divide us and similarities don’t enmesh us into a single indistinguishable and unidentifiable religious mass. Our tradition always places us in the struggle between what it means to be an individual and what it means to exist in community. Nowhere is this more acutely felt than when it comes to the Bible. If I were to stop this sermon right now, you might have an understanding of how the our Jewish and Christian roots connect with our church. However, if I were to stop now I would in some ways be incarnating the old joke about the Unitarian standing at the crossroads facing the choice of heaven and a discussion about heaven. So far, I have said much about how we are organically connected to these traditions. I fear I have said very little about the core of our fourth source—“Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves.” Let me conclude with some of what I have drawn from these vital and fulfilling springs of the spirit. · Creation is real like nothing else is real. Whatever took place, whenever it took place, it gave birth to us. Human beings did not give birth to it. · Creation is unfolding before us still. It’s not that it only took 6 days for the universe to be born—it is that it did not happen all at once. It is happening all around us still. · Knowledge of Good and Evil is what makes us truly human—there is really no Eden without this knowledge. · Good is alive in the world—so is evil. Spelling is not that important. Take one letter away from “Good” and you get “God,” add a letter to “Evil” and you find the “Devil.” · Eden surrounds us, so does Heaven, so does Hell. · You have to know bondage and wander in the wilderness to find the mountain top and appreciate freedom. · Seeing the Promised Land is not the same thing as walking in the land of milk and honey. · You find God in the strangest places—in the fire, in the sea, in the howling wind, in the shaking ground, in the still small voice within and in the touch of others. · Idolatry, not atheism, is our real nemesis. Disbelief is not bad. Believing that something is ultimate when it isn’t is the real danger we face. · We all long for saviors but never let anyone make a messiah of you—they nail them to crosses. · Saying that Jesus was the Son of God leads to seeing everyone equally as Children of God. · Breaking bread, sitting and drinking together is good for the soul and spirit. It can chase away the demons that haunt us. · The religion of Jesus speaks to some of us. The religion about Jesus speaks to others. Both can offer hope and healing. · An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is only good for the dentist and optometrist. · Turning the other cheek is harder than fighting back. · To err is human—Forgiveness more so. · We are more alike than different. · We all long for a world greater than the one we live in now. Ultimately we are called to give our lives to this vision. I could say more but I have probably said too much already. Some of these things I have found may resonate with you and others may be hidden from your view. Such is the way of revelation. Every time I turn fresh toward the Bible, if I am open and ready, I find something of great value, something that sustains life, something that brings meaning out from creation, something that surprises me. I don’t think that everything we need comes from the Bible. It is, though, part of my religion. On this day I pray that we find ways to rejoice in the wisdom, justice and hope revealed in “Jewish Voices and the Christian Spirit.” AMEN
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