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Where the Baptists ARE the Liberal Ones A Sermon by the Reverend Mark W. Christian of First Unitarian Church Delivered to the Congregation of Temple B’nai Israel Friday January 6, 2006
I am delighted to participate in a Bimah for Pulpit swap with Rabbi Cohen this weekend. I think it is a marvelous chance for two allied religious communities to discover their similarities and (equally importantly) to grow in appreciation of their differences. Reform Judaism and Unitarian Universalism share much common ground. We share core values of justice, equity and compassion. We share a commitment to making a difference in the life we live today. We also share a sense of being strangers in a strange land when it comes to the dominant religious landscape of Oklahoma City. I grew up here in Oklahoma City. I graduated from John Marshall High School in 1975—going on to Southeastern Oklahoma State University in Durant where I majored in Communications and began working in radio. I spent 20 years in radio, the last 10 just across the street at Clear Channel Networks in 50 Penn Place. After 20 years in radio I transitioned into ministry—I say transitioned because there was much in radio that was preparatory for life as clergy. I attended Phillips Seminary—I was there long enough that they got a new President, changed names and changed cities. I spent a year internship at a Unitarian Church in Tulsa before moving to Las Cruces, New Mexico to serve the Unitarian Congregation there for four years. In 2001, through an unexpected set of events, I returned to Oklahoma City as minister of First Unitarian. I guess I tell you this as a way of saying I am about as much of an Okie as you are likely to find. I am even an Okie, religiously. My family has been active at First Unitarian since the 1930s. Over the course of my life I have had wonderful opportunities to experience and observe much about this marvelous congregation. Two of my younger brothers attended the Temple pre-school, I recall the tornado that hit this facility in about 1970—causing the Temple meeting for Shabbat at First Unitarian for a time while some repairs were made. I remember the hospitality that you extended to our summer youth programming after a fire in 1973 destroyed part of our facility. Ours are allied faiths and allied congregations. We stand apart—but not too far apart. I sometimes joke about Jew-nitarians, or Uni-brews—those who feel a degree of comfort in both worlds. Barry, I don’t know if similar advice is offered in Rabbinical School—but early on, most Unitarian ministers are given the advice of developing a close bond with the local Reform Rabbi. In many parts of the country it’s likely that there will be only one Reform and one Unitarian congregation serving a multi-county area. Therefore the wisdom holds that Rabbi will be the closest thing I have to a local working colleague—and vice versa. This was clearly my experience in Las Cruces—Rabbi Jerry Kane and I would drag each other to one community or Interfaith event after another. We jokingly called ourselves Batman and Robin—when asked who was Batman we’d answer, “The one who is driving.” I had a moment of this kind of kiinship in a conversation Rabbi Cohen and I had last week. Barry commented that he had just been to a Hornets game. I was in no way surprised with what he said after he noted that the game began with a prayer. I, too, had attended a Hornets game and as with hundreds of other public gatherings—I literally held my breath during the prayer—psychically chanting “Don’t invoke Jesus. Don’t invoke Jesus.” To our common amazement the prayer before the NBA games was generally inclusive. I guess, I am telling you that if you go to Hornet’s game, both the Unitarian Minister and the Reform Rabbi’s experience is that when they start the prayer—it’s OK. You don’t seem to have to fear having the holiness of your reflection with the Divine derailed by a pro-forma “In Jesus’ name we pray.” That is one of the places where our traditions converge. We come from different angles but converge on common ground. Unitarianism is a child of Protestant Christianity—I sometimes observe Unitarians are the most thoroughly protestant of the Protestants since we protest the very core of the tradition when it fails the test truth, understanding and inspiration. In addition, the Christian world has long tossed Unitarians in with the Jews. Because we don’t understand Jesus to be the begotten Son of God, because we look at Jesus as a teacher, as a rabbi, my religious ancestors were persecuted as “Judaizers”—those who would convert Christians to Jews—mostly for not addressing prayers to Jesus. Unitarians were among those herded into German concentration camps because of their faith. Switching to a more humorous vein, the similarities and distinctions between our two traditions are well captured in the observations that while Jews believe in the oneness of God—that Unitarians believe in one God—at the very most. My observations about faith in Oklahoma City become even more apparent to me because of my name. Growing up a Unitarian named Christian is seconded only by becoming a Unitarian minister named Christian. This, I suppose, would be trumped only if by some strange twist of fate I converted to Judaism and sought ordination. The notion of being called Rabbi Christian begs post-modernism in a way that exceeds my capacity to understand. All of this has led me to why I am here tonight. I am here because I am the ordained leader of a sister religious community. I am here because I live in, I know, I love, Oklahoma City. I am here because I am a person of faith who sometimes feels estranged in his homeland. When I moved to Southern New Mexico, I had members of both the Unitarian and Jewish community tell me of the area’s dominant religious conservatism. I would smile in recognition of the fact that we who believe in religious freedom tend to think that wherever WE live is the proverbial “Buckle of the Bible Belt.” I explained to my fellow New Mexican religious liberals that I regularly see cars around town with ‘Darwin Fish’ or bumper stickers proclaiming ‘The Religious Right is Neither’ and I have no acquaintance with the driver. Oklahoma City is more than 15 times the size of Las Cruces and if I see a Christian Icthus crawling on recently sprouted feet in Oklahoma City, the odds are that I know exactly who is driving. In Oklahoma City, when you encounter Nazarenes, the Assembly of God, the Church of Christ and the non-denominational fundamentalists, you rapidly conclude that the Baptists Are the Liberal Ones. These days, of course, “Liberal” is one of those words you aren’t supposed to use in mixed company. “Progressive” is, I think, the mot de jour. As a Unitarian, I often refer to our covenantal faith as a “Liberal Religion.” When I do this I find it wise to remind people that the words “Liberal” denotes “Liberty” and a liberal is one who believes our salvation and best selves are revealed through freedom. The liberal believes that God is alive in the world in the free actions of free human beings. The liberal believes that where there is freedom there is hope and that those who place strictures of creed, dogma and doctrine on the Spirit in fact sully the holy. My experience leads me to place Reform Judaism in that category of liberal religion. For any of you who this may make uncomfortable let me observe that religious liberalism does not predispose political liberalism. One may freely follow the of the Spirit without bowing to liberal political monitions. Even though my colleague Forrest Church received great attention for his book “God and Other Famous Liberals,” I would maintain that God is not registered to any particular political party. God also doesn’t play favorites to any particular human incarnation of religion. God is where God is. God is found where God is found. The only distinction I would make is that I tend to find God where freedom is present. I find God in the form of freedom. I find God incarnate in the world where people covenant together freely and take on the yoke of responsibility that freedom bears. Let me close with this poem from Phillip Appleman’s book “Five Easy Prayers for Pagans.” Appleman, I think, speaks freely, hopefully, to those of us who live in a world “Where the Baptists are the Liberal Ones.”
o karma,
dharma, pudding and pie, Thank you. Amen and Amen.
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