First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis

Living Humanism

My friend and colleague, Meg Riley, who is coordinating the UUA's response to the Hurricane Katrina disaster, says that the ministers of our trauma team are doing significant work. These are UU ministers - parish ministers like me, or community ministers like chaplains - who have background and training to provide immediate help in situations of crisis and public emergency. It's a tough job, and they are doing it well, says Meg, but one thing they need is tracts. You know, pamphlets. The little flyers that tell something about the liberal religious point of view. You might not think that this would be one of the first priorities in situations of disaster, but in fact one of the things that people start to look for, right along with help and hope, is answers. The American public has responded with immediate generosity to the needs of evacuees and victims, and dollars do not come with a faith stance attached to them. Food is food, diapers are diapers, a roof is a roof, and when that's what you desperately need, you don't much care about the motives of whoever is making it possible. But the larger questions don't wait long. Threaded in among the practical problems of where shall we sleep and how shall we eat and where are my missing loved ones, comes the need to try to understand it all, to make meaning. Why did this happen? Who is responsible? What did I do wrong? Is there anything I can still trust?

Some people have a faith system, be it liberal or traditional, that will carry them through. They will ask these questions, and find answers within themselves that give them strength and serenity, and so carry on with the rebuilding of their lives. No one in his right mind would seek to take away such a resource from anyone. But those folks are the lucky ones. Other people are finding that either they never paid much attention to the deeper questions of life, and have nothing to fall back on, or else that their former faith ideas were smashed and swept away in the winds and waters of Katrina, like so much of the rest of their lives. For them, the difficulty is both immediate and practical - food, clothing, shelter, medical care - but also existential. What is my life worth? What should I hope for? How do I reassure my children? How do I cope with my grief? Is god angry with me?

Of course, there will be no lack of proposed answers to these kinds of questions. In fact, I couldn't help noticing in yesterday's paper the advertised sermon titles of some orthodox preachers - the ones whose congregations pay enough not to be relegated to the religion page. "Life Isn't Fair, Thank God" was one, and "More Than Fair" was another. This is one reason why I prefer to announce cryptic sermon titles, that don't allow the reader immediately to construct the arc and end of the sermon in her head, without actually hearing a word of it. I think I know what my colleagues are going to say; they're going to say that if life were rigidly 'fair', none of us would enjoy the blessings that we do. They are going to suggest that god as they understand him doesn't owe human beings anything, including explanations. They are going to urge that the challenge is to be grateful for all that we do have and still have, and to express that gratitude through generous sharing; that human beings are god's messengers and deputies, whose task it is to bring mercy and fairness into the world through our relationships.

At least I hope that is what they are going to say; it's a position I can find at least some sympathy for in my own understanding, and there are worse possibilities. I do think that we live in an arbitrary world, where awful events sometimes just happen, and it's up to us as rational, compassionate creatures to help one another make the best of it. If I believed in the gods, I wouldn't be letting them off the hook so easily, but since I don't, I don't think that there is much percentage in trying to hold cosmic forces accountable to human values and priorities. The other possibilities bother me more, the real retro-Calvinist message that says we are all miserable worms and sinners, who deserve to suffer and die hideously anyway, and god is free to do whatever he chooses with any of us, and we have no right whatsoever to complain. And/or that New Orleans was in some way a special example of evil and corruption, irritating to god's holiness, and therefore its destruction should be understood as a just judgment and punishment, implying that the rest of us had better straighten up and fly right, lest the same thing befall us next.

But the real problem is not what is being preached in the nice dry sanctuaries of Minneapolis. The real issue, and that is why Meg believes that our trauma ministers need supplies of pamphlets, is the message that is being spread, and heard, among the sufferers themselves. On the one hand, I think it is despicable to exploit people's grief, exhaustion, fear, and disorientation by pestering them with religious propaganda; by telling them that this is their "wake up call" from god, or to exacerbate their inevitable survivor guilt by insisting that they were "spared" by the hand of some special providence - that killed their neighbors and loved ones, or ruined their homes - for the sake of some special purpose or assignment. This is a sort of spiritual ambulance-chasing that can only reflect discredit upon those who pursue it.

On the other hand, when people begin to ask the questions of meaning and purpose for themselves, I think that we of the liberal persuasion have a responsibility to be prepared to offer a coherent account of our version of the 'good news'. Never was any group of people so much in need of an honest message of hope, reassurance, and comfort as the men and women and children who have floundered out of the flooded streets of New Orleans. Many of them, perhaps most, will find that message in some perception of the enduring love of an almighty god, however little they may be able to explain his actions. But more than a handful are going to remain baffled by that idea, are going to find that the picture of a benevolent deity rings hollow to them now, that whatever vague ideas of faith they once entertained, none of it makes any sense any more. These are the folks who need us to be humanist evangelicals right now - for an evangelist is anyone who brings a message of good news. Meg believes, and I agree with her, that we have good news to share, especially for those folks who are now painfully pondering who and what to believe. They are, I would argue, spiritually at risk right now; either of two things could happen to them in this vulnerable moment that I think would be a pity, and a lasting loss to the community of greater love and justice that we are striving to build. For one thing, they could succumb to the disillusionment of this moment, into a kind of permanent anger and bitterness, concluding that cynicism and self-protection are the only real lessons to be learned. They could decide that hope is for the foolish, and faith for the gullible; that compassion is a chimera and duty to others a bait for exploitation. Not only will such an attitude make their own future existences narrow and joyless, but the communities in which they indulge their despair will never benefit from any energy, creativity, or wisdom from them. We can do better than to let these kindred souls, already nearly drowned once, subside into the spiritual swamp of indifference, and perish there.

The other vulnerability that I see is that in the need for understanding, in the hunger to find reasons and some sort of moral order in this chaotic moment, some people will accept the explanation of an angry, punishing god, whom they and others have failed to appease. Strange as it may seem from a detached, reasoning point of view, it is often easier to live with the conviction that something horrible is your own fault, than it is to live with the idea that the universe can be so randomly destructive. We see this over and over again in children who are victims of abuse; they will imagine elaborate explanations to make it their own responsibility, rather than think they have no control at all of what is happening. Again, the sad thing is not only what this kind of belief does to the person who holds it, making them forever anxious and guilty, but also the impact that their resulting rigidity, fear, and intolerance have on those who must live with and around them. If we wish for greater acceptance and benevolence in the world, then we need to be prepared to offer a message of comfort in place of cosmic blame.

These toxic messages, either that looking out for number one is all that matters, or that we are the recipients of god's just wrath for our sins, are both abroad in the world. Like some sort of intellectual/spiritual viruses, they are opportunistic ideas, that propagate themselves wherever the immune system is not strong enough to defend against them. And of course, it is not just the Mississippi delta where they have the chance to flourish. In the final analysis, that is why we all need to be evangelists wherever we are; bearers of the good news of humanist reason, compassion, hope, and confidence in the future. It is not about the anger of the gods, or punishment for our sins. Rather, we do live in a material universe of overwhelming physical forces, where sometimes bad things happen for no good cause. But we also have the option of working together to make things better, using our intelligence and creativity to help one another, sticking together in the face of challenges and sharing both the good and bad that comes along. Ours is also a gospel of genuine responsibility; from bad decisions that result in suffering, we can learn to make better decisions in the future. From inadequate planning to meet foreseeable risks, we are summoned to apply our intelligence and resources so that procedures work more smoothly the next time. From culpable indifference on the part of public officials and leaders, we may conclude that we must take leadership into our own hands, and not rest content in the power of the highest bidders.

Do not be deceived; ours is not a gospel of "no fault"; we do not offer a haven for permanent victims. There is much human responsibility for the present plight of New Orleans and the citizens of the gulf coast, some of it corporate, some of it civic, and some of it personal. That, too, is good news; we are never without some power to respond to our circumstances, to be ingenious, courageous, persistent, generous, kind, honorable, wise. It matters what we do, how we confront hardship, not only for our own well-being, but for that of others as well. It is up to us, my friends, to put this message out there in the world, where stricken souls still afloat upon the waters of bewilderment and suffering may find it a landmark of good tidings, a welcome assurance that even in the wake of disaster, hope may yet take hold, and meaning may grow.

Humanism becomes a living faith only as each of us lives by it, and it has a voice in the world only as we speak it forth. Evangelism always comes in these two aspects; the witness of what we do, and the witness of what we say. In order to be persuasive, in order to put our truth in front of others in an accessible, helpful way, we must do both. We must show its effects on us in the way we conduct ourselves, and we must be prepared to tell the story, to share the good news of what our way of the spirit means to us. Of course it matters how we live; that is the ultimate evidence of the power of our beliefs. It matters that we are kind in community, welcoming to strangers, ethical in our behavior, respectful of diversity, generous to those in need, attentive toward children, caring in our relationships, vigilant for our liberty, passionate for justice, grateful and joyful in our attitudes, faithful to our promises. Without this demonstration in practice, it doesn't matter much what we say, or how eloquently or rationally we can set forth our ideas. If our humanism doesn't seem to make any difference in our lives, people who are seekers like us will have little reason to think it would make any difference in theirs.

At the same time, when we are confronted by the largest questions of life, when our neighbors struggle for a way to understand the forces of the universe, and to hang on to dignity and hope, it is important that we be able to share our good news, with conviction and clarity. Our example, no matter how inspiring, only helps if we can explain the source of our commitments, and describe the beliefs that give us energy and sing in our hearts. I don't say it's easy; it takes thoughtful reflection, and courage, and practice, to learn to say out loud what you believe in, and why. But when we are able to do this, not only do we become more confident in our own ideas, we also become part of the human community's immune system, helping to counteract the toxic effects of shame and despair.

Before we close this morning, I want to offer you two specific opportunities to become a more effective evangelist for the heritage of liberal religion and humanism. First, we have available in the bookstore, for $2.00, a pocket calendar that contains the Purposes and Princples of the Unitarian Universalist Association, the mission statement of our Society, and the definition of humanism from our newsletter masthead. None of this can replace the telling of your own authentic personal story of what your faith means to you, but it can be a handy reminder of points you might want to remember when you're standing in line at the grocery store, and someone asks you, "What does 'humanism' mean, anyway?" Second, we will have two opportunities this fall, before I leave on sabbatical in December, to talk about the process of sharing your beliefs, and how to talk about humanism and Unitarian Universalism in various different situations. The first set of classes will meet on Thursdays, October 6^th and 13^th. If you would like to participate, but Thursdays don't work for you, the sessions will be repeated on Mondays, October 24^th and 31^st . If you have such a good time at the first set that you want to attend the Monday sessions as well, that's fine too, but one or the other should be adequate. See the announcement in your orders of service for more details, or stop by the Ask Me table.

David Muzzey reminds us in our reading that "We are all together in this world of joy and sorrow: Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, exalted and humble, learned and simple, seeking not to penetrate the impenetrable mysteries over which the theologians of the past have spent their mental energies, but to find a religion which will release our latent moral energies, and give direction, purpose, poise and meaning to our lives. This is not the work of any consecrated clergy alone. It is our common social duty. Whenever and wherever any member of the human family makes a contribution to this fund of moral idealism, he or she is thereby a true minister of religion." It is in this sense that we are all called to a ministry in this sometimes overwhelming world, where other weary seekers long for our companionship, and the glad tidings of a faith in human aspirations and possibilities. We have a message of good news to share; let us carry it forth as authentically and graciously as possible. Let us lift our voices together in song, and tell it on the mountain.