TRULY A FAITH FOR ALL SOULS
Rev. Tom Owen-Towle
October 29, 2006
Some wag wrote that some religions focus on all saints, while Unitarian Universalism welcomes all sorts. That line draws a chuckle, for, indeed, we comprise a pretty unconventional crew in terms of theologies and lifestyles. But we like it that way, and a healthy faith can poke fun at itself rather than taking itself too seriously. Yet labeling us all sorts misses our unswerving commitment to being a faith of all souls as well.
We’re fast approaching Halloween, followed by November 1st, the Day of the Dead or All Saints Day, so it’s fitting to wrestle with the import of these classic celebrations. All Saints Day is set aside by Christians especially to honor those figures who never got a day of their own. The idea began in the 4th century as a way to salute martyrs whose names were unknown. Such a tribute seemed to mark a theological advance, but Unitarian Universalists go even further, for we believe, as the old hymn states: “there’s a wideness in God’s mercy,” and should be in ours as well.
We’re not only interested in saluting the unknown greats of history, but the last, the lost, the least among us, indeed, every sister and brother who’s walked this earth–yes, all souls. That’s why more of our congregations across the land are named All Souls than any other moniker. Frankly, I can’t think of any finer designation than that of All Souls–and there’s nothing about Unitarian Universalism that makes me prouder than our aspiration to be a religion of universal embrace.
It’s always tempting, in the name of religion, to put certain figures on a pedestal, to sort out the saints from the burly sinners, but we contend that there’s that of the saint and the sinner in every one of us. We know ourselves to be mixed bags, checkered creatures.
Now don’t get me wrong. Unitarian Universalists pay closer attention to some figures in human history than others: especially the mystical activists, the artistic and prophetic exemplars, the truly brave and loving who walk this earth. But even those human beings are respected, not revered, by us. Some of us choose to worship God or the highest reality we can envision, but we refuse to worship any guru or guide–any human being, period. The most important thing to ever say about God is that we aren’t it! And neither is the greatest of human figures, Jesus included.
Reflect for a moment upon Albert Schweitzer, arguably one of the most spiritually evolved persons of all-time, who, near the end of his life, grew a fond connection with Unitarian Universalism, even joined our Church of the Larger Fellowship. Now, how do we Unitarian Universalists relate to a person of such moral magnitude? Schweitzer’s was such an exceptional existence that one grows exhausted simply recounting the incidents in his illustrious life spanning some 90 years. Indeed, for many, Schweitzer was almost super-human.
But, as with any great personage, we Unitarian Universalists are careful not to idolize him. For if Schweitzer is considered a demi-god, then he really doesn’t have much to offer us ordinary mortals, does he? In short, we can quickly venerate someone like Schweitzer or Mother Teresa into irrelevance.
A saint can even be vilified. Some people get almost sadistic pleasure out of sainting someone and then taking potshots at them. Clearly, Schweitzer was an open target for criticism–his unorthodox theology and biblical commentary, his pith helmet and baggy trousers, his hesitant comments about the future of African self-determination, the wandering livestock in his medical compound, his authoritarian style, his commitment to old ways in medicine for modern Africa, all aroused the ire and fury of saint-baiters, especially those from the western world.
Perfect Schweitzer wasn’t; but he was someone who made the reverent life attractive, compelling, reachable, worthy of risk. Schweitzer pushed us not to resemble himself but to be our own best selves. After all, who really wants to be a second-rate version of someone else, however great?
Here’s a lively game that illustrates what I'm saying. Everyone has pinned to the back of his or her shirt the name of some “famous” Unitarian Universalist. We stroll around the room, asking questions such as the gender and era of the person we can’t see on our back side. Perhaps you’ve played some version of this game.
Naturally, most of the names are of the Adlai Stevenson or Dorothea Dix variety, but we also mix-in some names of the very people, young and old, in our congregation. It always brings a shock of surprise, then delight and pride, when someone realizes they’re wearing their own name or that of someone else in their own beloved tribe.
The point of the game is unmistakable to children, youth, and adults alike: namely, we’re all lovable and capable individuals. You see, you and I’ve chosen a religion that believes unreservedly in us, that affirms that we can be and do marvelous, nay miraculous things, during our sojourns on earth…that we’re pretty cool as we are, growing toward whom we might yet become!
But lest this good news go to anyone’s head, remember we won’t adore you or adhere to your every word or whim, but we will salute, respect, and learn from you. We believe in the inherent worth and dignity of everyone…including you, no exceptions allowed.
Now on a practical level, we need to remember, that regardless of how open-minded any of us may appear, we’re invariably leaving someone out of our spiritual circle. So, in a sincere effort to widen our horizons and embrace, Summit must regularly take stock: Who’s missing in this room? Who’s not here but might be? What perspective has trouble being heard in our sacred circle? Then our job is to find ways to invite the missing ones into our company, if they so choose to enter. We do this not out of a need to convert but out of a need to converse: for a truly robust religion can always use another voice and a fresh viewpoint.
But don’t kid yourself: believing in the inherent worth and dignity of everyone is an exceptionally tall order. Because everyone means everyone: including the people we love, the people we tolerate, and, yes, the people we dislike. It includes the oppressed and the oppressor, the victim and the perpetrator…always folks who rub you personally the wrong way, and you can’t imagine why they’re included in our faith of all souls…but they are!
Our Unitarian Universalist conviction about the inherent worth of every person is the cornerstone upon which everything else in our religion is built. Live it or lose it. Our ancestors had to do so against the strongest opposition. They were considered heretics to be hunted down and burned at the stake. Kings and priests considered people evil and sinful by nature, to be suppressed and controlled. Slowly and painfully the sacredness of human life has been wrested from tyrant and dictator.
Yet today, still only a small fraction of the human family are truly protected and encouraged to grow as free people. Religious freedom remains nonexistent in large portions of the world even as we speak and is threatened in our own country by the rigid, intolerant positions of certain folks. Hence, for Unitarian Universalists full dignity isn’t just a political hunger, it’s a religious issue. We believe that none of us can be valued for very long unless all of us are considered of worth. We bet and behave our lives on that proposition!
Let me try to summarize the size and scope of our chosen faith by parsing our name: Unitarian Universalism. I know, I know, our is a large, even cumbersome name but a noble one, a worthy one, a resourceful one. This is why.
Central to the very word and tradition of Unitarianism is the conviction that every unit of existence–animal, plant, or human–is sacred and to be treated as such. Everyone is welcome at our intergenerational table whatever color or belief, gender or political view, sexual orientation or physical condition, class or age we might be. As it says in our Summit literature, we are a welcoming church. No one is intentionally excluded here. Every unit is prized.
Unitarianism also symbolizes the unity of the cosmos, the claim that we’re partners in an interdependent web of existence, that despite the welter of life forces buzzing throughout creation, there abides an indisputable oneness at the heart of reality. We didn’t create the ecosystem; our obligation is to live according to its inherent guidelines, honoring its unity as biological fact and spiritual aim.
So, at the center of our Unitarian faith is an unyielding confidence that every person is unique and valued and that ultimate reality is unified.
Our Universalist side claims love as central. Universalism trusts that all of us are held in the arms of spacious love, no matter what we’ve done or not done. Held is the operative term. This day, one’s entire life, the full-blown universe rests in the grasp of a loving power. Such is the governing Universalist affirmation.
As Unitarian Universalists we’re concerned about tomorrow and work ceaselessly to make society more beautiful and just, but we relinquish the final results. For what ultimately holds us, no matter what we’ve accomplished or failed to accomplish on earth, is the loving Great Spirit. Rest assured, to use the Universalist phrase. So we trust, so we believe.
Therefore, we spend our entire lives not repaying, which we can’t possibly do, but rather responding to this infinite spirit of Love. Loved, we love in return. Colleague Tracey Robinson-Harris relates the story of a five-year old girl who, in the middle of a long and frightening night, wakes up in tears. She was staying with her grandparents as her own parents tried to put the pieces of their lives back together again. The little girl was understandably anxious, since she didn’t know what would happen to them or to herself.
When the girl awoke, she called out, “Grandpa, I’m scared.” “It’s all right,” said Grandpa. “I’m here, I’m here.” And indeed he was, sleeping in the other bed in the same room right there, asleep yet alert, listening for his grand-daughter’s cry. The girl heard the reassuring words, “I’m here,” yet, still crying, said: “I know Grandpa, but is your face turned toward me?”
That’s the quintessential Unitarian Universalist query, isn’t it: Is our face turned toward the loved one, the stranger, even the enemy? Do we truly see one another as full-fledged, equally worthy creations? Are we turned fully toward the other, looking our sister and brother squarely in the face, with a steady, appreciative gaze?
You and I live in a world where people are damned in the name of religion because their views are different, are assaulted because either the hue of their skin or the manner of their love is different. Those of us who are held fast in the grasp of a loving faith must demonstrate a different way of being: the Unitarian Universalist way of soul-deep acceptance.
So, what constitutes the heart, as I see it, of our Unitarian Universalist faith? A resolute belief in the unity of reality and the conviction that love is the undeniable nature of that reality; and, most importantly, I, as one human being, am summoned, during my earthly stay, to treat our universe as unified and to add my ounces of love to the mix.
So, All Souls Day, signifies a day of remembrance for all the dead. My prayer is that you and I dare to lean far, far back into our spiritual ancestors until our eyebrows are knit together. And, in so doing, we’ll keep our Unitarian Universalist faith vital and prosperous into a distant future none of us will ever know.
Paying deep attention to all souls always entails celebrating those sisters and brothers who’ve gone before us and upon whose shoulders we sit today. That’s what we did last year when we saluted the founding and formative members of Summit Fellowship, daring pioneers who lovingly launched this sacred site back in 1988. You and I acknowledged then, and must continue to acknowledge, that we’re here because they were there.
And it’s our primary job today–through our resources of time, talent, and money–to ensure that there will be a vital liberal religious presence on Cottonwood, in East County, that flourishes into seasons beyond our counting.
This Fellowship is the community of us now. Its energy and resources are our gathered energy and resources. Its spiritual and financial well-being are no more and no less than the sum of our gifts.
It’s our turn now. It’s our duty now. May we say Yes, may we say I can and I will, may we rise to the occasion when our names are called forth into joyous duty and service at Summit.
Tom Owen-Towle
October 29, 2006
