Sermon

The Authority of the Pulpit

The Rev. Jack D. Bryant

Hope Unitarian Church

August 21, 2005

First Reading: Numbers 30:1-2

Then Moses said to the heads of the tribes of the Israelites: This is what the LORD has commanded. When a man makes a vow to the LORD, or swears an oath to bind himself by a pledge, he shall not break his word; he shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth.

Second Reading: Rabbi Gary M. Bretton-Granatoor. The Power of the Voice. An excerpt from a Sermon delivered October 10, 1997 at the Stephen Wise Free Synagogue.

Founded in 1907 by Stephen Samuel Wise, this pulpit was founded in order to create an opportunity for words to be spoken uncensored by power or authority, committed to the principle of speaking the truth as one sees it. One must understand the events that led up to the founding of the Free Synagogue. The story began in 1905 when Stephen Wise was a young rabbi serving Temple Beth Israel of Portland, Oregon. A letter came to Rabbi Wise from the Board of Trustees of Temple Emanu-El which was seeking to fill its pulpit. The invitation came to journey to New York to deliver a few trial sermons to a committee made up of members of the Board of Trustees. In his autobiography, Stephen Wise records the ambivalence he felt upon delivering his trial sermons for he felt that he laid himself open as no person with self respect should to harassing experiences. He records that after his preaching, people came over to him and said, "we were very much impressed and we were very well pleased." To which he responded that he hadn't wished to please them, rather he had sought solely to awaken them. He tells us that they responded to him as if he had been delivering a high school prize oration and he left feeling chilled and disheartened. Protracted negotiations ensued. He demanded that the pulpit be entirely free, without interference from the members of the Board of Trustees. The Board refused, causing Stephen Wise to sever all ties with Temple Emanu-El and begin the Free Synagogue for the Board of Trustees were not willing to allow Rabbi Wise to speak his mind and use his voice to challenge and awaken the community. Upon the founding of the Free Synagogue, these are the words he used to articulate the mission of the Free Synagogue:

". . . The Free Synagogue will be Jewish --- loyally, unswervingly, uncompromisingly Jewish --- in its ideals and practices, in its free and democratic organization, in its free and unmuzzled pulpit, in its free and unhampered presentation of Jewish teachings. A free pulpit is one in which the preacher is free to speak and does speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth at all times and on all subjects . . . Judaism is truth on the march. . ."

Stephen Wise understood the power of the voice, he demanded to speak the truth regardless of the pressures from without -- he refused to accept the status-quo-ante of society.

Sermon

One day while in seminary I found myself in conversation with a classmate after the end of a class on the bible. I don’t remember just what the issue was that had been discussed in class that day, but it was matter of some controversy - and the professor had guided the discussion along lines that would be surprising to many mainline church goers. What I do remember is my classmate’s remark that he agreed with the unconventional position, but he would never be able to raise the issue with a congregation. To put the matter in plainer language, he believed any suggestion from the pulpit that he agreed with such an idea would lead to his immediate dismissal.

He knew he would not have a free pulpit. And that is true of most churches and synagogues and religious institutions of all faiths. The authority of the pulpit in most churches is the authority to speak the truth as the majority wants to hear it. The congregation - either by majority, but more often by aggressive minority - determine what will be said. There is little opportunity for dissent. Such pulpits are not places from which challenges are issued. Rather, they are the places where never a discouraging word is spoken. Or if it is spoken, it is with the assurance that the politically correct correction will soon be forthcoming.

I think this is true whether it is a Baptist or a Roman Catholic church. Perhaps you think the people in the pews of Catholic churches are controlled by the Priesthood, but I don’t believe that. Neither the priests nor the Pope control what is believed. There are millions of Catholics, not that many priests and only one Pope. If the people of the Roman Catholic church were to stand-up and refuse to accept what was said from the pulpit, that would be the day a divine inspiration led to a change in church dogma. In almost all religious institutions - regardless of the faith tradition - the pulpit and the pew are locked together in interlocking circles of authority and control. Neither is free, each is controlled by the other in a never ending dance. The authority of the pew in such situations is not so much authority as it is a limited dispensation to speak, but not too loudly and always carefully, so as not to offend.

Now let me hasten to add that this is not always the case. I have colleagues in many denominations and faith traditions including the Roman Catholic tradition - and yes, I consider them my colleagues - who speak the truth with courage as best they know it. And when they do so they speak with the authority of truth. But too often those are the exceptions. At other times there are those who take up the quip often attributed to the newspaper business “to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Applying this idea to religion they behave as if the authority of the pulpit is to shock people. But that is only the authority of adolescence - which is not so much authority as it is evidence of adolescent immaturity. It is not the purpose of either journalism or the ministry to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable - although both journalism and ministry, if practiced properly, will, from time to time, have that effect. But that is not the intent, only a byproduct. A variation of this last form of pulpit is what one might call the open pulpit or the “fair and balanced” pulpit - although vacuous might be a better term. The open pulpit is the pulpit that strives to satisfy everyone by presenting every view. The first week will be about the wonders of Christianity; the next week will be the virtues of Buddhism followed by great truths from the Koran. Atheists will have their week as well as those who want to know more about blue-green algae. It is the pulpit that stands for everything - thereby committing itself to nothing. It is the pulpit driven by public opinion, desperately responding to the latest church survey about what people want - not unlike the politician who gives the speech supporting tobacco in Kentucky and one supporting cancer research when visiting a hospital.

But there are some places with a different kind of pulpit, a free pulpit. Such a pulpit is not limited to any particular denomination or faith. We often speak of the free pulpit as being characteristic of Unitarianism. But it is not limited to our tradition. The Stephen Wise Free Synagogue is a wonderful example of a synagogue with a free pulpit. If you want to know whose sermons I like, I like to read the sermons from that Synagogue. Does that mean I’m Jewish or that I agree with the theology in those sermons? Not by any means. What it means is I see words written with what I believe to be the genuine authority of the pulpit, words that challenge me and awaken my mind and my heart.

That’s what the eighteenth century English philosopher David Hume was talking about. Hume, a notorious agnostic and religious skeptic, attended church on a regular basis. When asked why, he replied, “I go for one reason. Because one time each week I need to hear one person who speaks freely from his deepest convictions; as profound or stupid as he might sound!”

That’s why Stephen Wise said he wasn’t concerned whether people liked his sermons. His concern was “to awaken them.” I will be honest with you. It’s nice to hear people say they liked one of my sermons. And I suspect Stephen Wise liked to hear it, too. But to be a minister, to be a rabbi, is to bind and pledge oneself to a call.

Then Moses said to the heads of the tribes of the Israelites: This is what the LORD has commanded. When a man makes a vow to the LORD, or swears an oath to bind himself by a pledge, he shall not break his word; he shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth.

The purpose of ministry - regardless of the faith tradition - is - in the most important sense - the same. It is not to serve the church or synagogue or temple or mosque that calls you. It is to serve God in the midst of those who call you. For myself, I’m never quite sure what I mean by God. As a Unitarian it is to me the essence of mystery. But that is how I understand what I am about. And I cannot do that unless I am free - or should I say constrained - to speak the truth as best I know it - as profound or stupid as I may sound.

It is, I believe, an unusual bargain that we make between pulpit and pew. Those who sit in the pew are not responsible to believe what is said from the pulpit. Their responsibility is to be challenged, to have their hearts and minds and souls awakened by radical engagement with the words of another. And he or she who is in the pulpit is not free to say what is safe and comfortable. The person entrusted with a free pulpit is constrained to speak from the heart, regardless of what is popular, regardless of what is easy, regardless of the consequences.

I can’t think of a better example than Bishop Carlton Pearson from Higher Dimensions Family Church. For Carlton the world was his oyster. He ran with the most powerful figures of the Pentecostal world. He had fame and fortune and the attention of thousands who listened with bated breath for his every word. But one day he realized he could no longer preach what was safe and easy. He could no longer preach what people wanted to hear. He had to preach what he believed in his heart. He had to preach the truth as best he knew it, the truth that he could no longer accept a vision of God that condemned people to eternal damnation. He had to preach a doctrine of universal reconciliation, the doctrine of Christian universalism. It is a decision that has cost him personally. Do I agree with his theology? No, I don’t. His theology is not mine. Do I admire him? Yes, I do. I hope that if I believed in my heart something that I knew would deeply offend many of you, something that I could say only at great personal cost, that I would have the courage to do what he did - because therein lies the authority of a free pulpit - the authority of honesty and integrity in the face of what is easy and convenient, the authority that flows from the keeping of the oath that binds one not to break his word, but to speak so that what comes from the mouth is in accord with one’s vow. It's the authority with which the nineteenth century Unitarian minister and fire breathing abolitionist Theodore Parker spoke. Of course, it’s said he took the precaution of keeping a pair of loaded pistols in the pulpit. And there’s Rabbi Stephen Wise who, before beginning a public speech one day - for which the announcement of the topic had produced advance death threats - announced before beginning "If there is an assassin in this auditorium ready to kill me, I would ask that he rise and kill me now so that I am not interrupted once I begin my oration." But in a world where everyone is eager to tell you what you want to hear, a free pulpit is the place where you will hear “. . . one person who speaks freely from his deepest convictions; as profound or stupid as he might sound!”

I do not believe in a world with a celestial peeping tom. I do believe in a world that holds at its center the possibility of goodness; and it is that possibility, that potential which I call God. It is a possibility that is made real not by cosmic fiat, not by what we believe nor by any miracle or wondrous sign. It is made real by the ordinary, everyday choices of men and women. The reality of my God is not contingent upon miracles or the truth of the bible. The reality of my God is contingent upon acts of human kindness and compassion. My God becomes real each time someone becomes the hands of God and feeds the hungry, each time someone clothes the naked or speaks the truth as best she knows it. And my God dies with every lie, with every act of inhumanity, every time injustice is allowed to triumph. My God does not require any sacrifice or special form of piety. My God does not require me to believe this or that or to recite a particular creed. My God does not require any particular form of worship. All that my God requires - in the words of the prophets Isaiah and Amos - is that we “learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, [and] plead for the widow” (Isaiah 1:17) that we might have a world where “justice roll[s] down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.” (Amos 5:24) Whether you believe in one God, or a thousand gods, or no god at all, the true measure of your life will be found in how you choose. What I believe and what you believe is important, but it will always be secondary to the choices and deeds of your life.

Do you agree with me? It doesn’t matter. The authority of the pulpit is not whether you agree with me, not whether you like what I say. The authority of the free pulpit is in holding true to the vow and the pledge to the speak the truth as best I know it. And the authority of your lives is in making and keeping that pledge for yourselves. For the free pulpit and the free pew,

Amen.