Sermon
Who Do You Say We Are?
The Rev. Jack D. Bryant
Hope Unitarian Church
May 2, 2004
First Reading: Mark 8:22-30
They came to Bethsaida, and they bring him a blind person, and plead with him to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village. And he spat into his eyes, and places his hands on him, and started questioning him: “Do you see anything?”
When his sight began to come back, the first thing he said was: “I see human figures, as though they were trees walking around.”
Then he put his hands over his eyes a second time. And he opened his eyes, and his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. And he sent him home, saying, “Don’t bother to go back to the village!”
Jesus and his disciples set out for the village of Caesarea Philippi. On the road he started questioning his disciples, asking them, “What are people saying about me?”
In response they said to him, “[Some say, ‘You are] John the Baptist,’ and others ‘Elijah,’ but others ‘One of the prophets.’”
But he continued to press them, “What about you, who do you say I am?”
Peter responds to him, “You are the anointed!” and he warned them not to tell anyone about him.”
Second Reading: T.S. Eliot.
The Hollow Men - First Stanza
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
Sermon
A few weeks ago I was offered the gift of the book Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas by Elaine P ccepted the offer because Elaine Pagels is one of the outstanding religious historians of our time. I wasn’t disappointed. The book is about the development of Christianity in the late first and early second centuries. It explores the processes by which the followers of Jesus, a Jewish peasant who was born and who lived and died an observant Jew, transformed themselves into the beginnings of what we know today as Christianity. It is a masterful work of religious history and interpretation.
As I read her book I thought of the passage from Mark that I read this morning - a passage that is echoed in all of the Gospel stories. The same question is repeated over and over again: Who do you say I am? But to hear the question in that form is to misunderstand it. The best biblical scholars of our day say Jesus never made such a statement. In reality it was not Jesus who was asking people, “Who do you say I am?” - it was the followers of Jesus in the late first and early second centuries who were asking that question. The authors of the gospels put that question into the mouth of Jesus, but it was put there because there were struggling with their own sense of identity. They were actually saying, “Who do we say we are?”
As I read Elaine Pagels book and thought about that famous question it occurred to me that there is nothing unique about the question - and there is nothing unique about people struggling for a sense of identity. It’s something each person does as an individual. Parents are first hand observers of this process - especially with teenagers, struggling to find out who they are. And so do adults - especially when those adults are politicians. If you’ve been following the political news you will have heard pundits talking about our two Presidential candidates seeking to define themselves and each other. Most of the political ads on television so far have been about President Bush trying to define Senator Kerry - and Senator Kerry trying to define President Bush. Personally, I would prefer hearing each man define himself. I think there is something amiss about people defining others. I believe people who spend all their time trying to define others may be saying they don’t have a well defined identity of their own - so they attempt to compensate by trying to define others. With that thought in mind I will confess that I have not been impressed by the political ads from either side of the Presidential contest. But I am less interested in personal development and the identity of politicians than I am in the religious applications of the question. In particular I am interested in how it applies to us as a church. In other words, “Who do you say we are?”
That’s a question that’s been historically difficult for Unitarians to answer. But it’s a question we must answer, because if we don’t answer it, then someone else will answer it for us. That’s what happened in the early eighteen hundreds during what historians have called the Unitarian Controversy. Members of the congregational churches in New England that rejected the Trinity and Original Sin were in a dispute with those who believed those doctrines. Those rejecting the Trinity wanted to be called Liberal Christians. Those supporting the Trinity insisted on calling them Unitarians. The would be Liberal Christians were upset by the term Unitarian. They didn’t like it. But eventually they adopted it - eventually they let other people define the name by which they would be known. I’ve often wondered if our history would have been different if our religious ancestors had insisted on choosing their own name.
In our own time the questions of identity have been more serious than the choice of a name. Do you have to believe in God to be a Unitarian? Can you believe whatever you want? Do you have to believe anything? What do we teach our children? Is this the church where you go if you don’t want your children to be taught a specific set of beliefs or a particular religious tradition? I heard that one recently - a person remarked to me that someone might take their children to a Unitarian church because they didn’t want them taught anything in particular about religion. Another example is the continual difficulty Unitarians seem to have coming up with an elevator speech. You know what an elevator speech is, don’t you? You get on the elevator and as the doors closes someone says, “So you’re a Unitarian. What does that mean?” You have until the door opens at the next floor to answer the question. Do you respond with an articulate fifteen word statement that clearly defines our faith tradition, the opening paragraph of a twenty page essay, or a blank look? Personally, I’ve responded with all of those choices at different times. Part of the difficulty is to our credit - we don’t want to be put in a box. And part of the difficulty doesn’t do us credit - we’re not sure who we are. That’s when I’m reminded of the statement by Dujune Barnes that was part of our responsive reading this morning: “A strong sense of identity gives man an idea he can do no wrong; too little accomplishes the same.” It is my perception that Unitarians tend to bounce back and forth between the two extremes. Let me give you a few examples. I had the experience several years ago of being told that because I wasn’t an atheist I wasn’t really a Unitarian - and in particular I wasn’t a “real” Unitarian minister. This particular person knew what it meant to be a Unitarian with an absolute certainty. I understand that position as a kind of fundamentalism. At the opposite end of the spectrum are the people who call me wanting me to support, endorse, and promote their personal religious programs and activities. Theologically they are all over the place. I perceive that they call me because they believe the Unitarian church is like a public library that provides meeting space for whoever calls. Such groups typically want not just acceptance, but affirmative endorsement - and, if it isn’t immediately forthcoming, complain that failure to endorse, failure to do as they ask, is contrary to what it means to be a Unitarian. What I think they’re really saying, however, goes something like this - “You’re so lacking in self-definition, so unsure of yourself, let me define who you are for my own benefit.” My reply - in my own mind - is that if Unitarianism means endorsing anything and everything that comes to my door, then being a Unitarian means nothing. If that’s all we are, then we are the Hollow Men of whom T.S. Eliot spoke, nothing but “shape without form” waiting for someone to define us.
Who do we say we are? That’s a big part of the values process we’re working through. It’s a way of trying to answer that question. It’s not a question a single person can answer. It’s not a question I can answer for you. It’s a question that we have to answer as a group. That means what I have to say isn’t definitive. But let me tell you something of what I’ve come to believe about who and what we are.
As a movement we are rooted in the history and tradition of Judaism and Christianity, but whether or not a Unitarian identifies with either of those words isn’t the issue - regardless of the label a particular individual may attach to himself or herself we are all rooted in those traditions. Sometimes we affirm their teachings. For example, I believe we are particularly connected to the prophetic tradition of Judaism with its demand for social justice and the life of Jesus - who was a later day representative of the prophets. We are also in tension with significant parts of the Jewish and Christian traditions. This was a lesson I learned in a seminary class on preaching. My Presbyterian professor told the class we would be required to preach from certain biblical texts. One of my Protestant classmates expressed concern about being required to preach from a text with which he might disagree. The professor smiled - with great love - and said not to worry - we were always free to preach against the text. Whether one agrees or disagrees with the biblical tradition, it is our tradition - and we are enriched by being engaged with it - even when we disagree with it - because if nothing else, it gives us something to push against.
Within that tradition I believe we are drawn together by one overarching interpretive principle: That’s the idea of covenant - a promise made to one another that binds us into a community - a community that walks together through the trials and tribulations of life, secure in the knowledge that we do not walk alone. The idea of covenant does not say what we will believe in particular - but it does say that what we believe must be fashionable into something that we can promise one another, something that will make a real, substantive difference in how we behave. It follows that we are not called just to believe, we are not called to formulate platitudes and empty words - we are called to action. And because we are called to action we are not called to salvation through words, but salvation through character - the kind of character that can only be defined and given form and turned into reality through deeds. That’s why the operative words from the oldest statement of union among us - a covenantal promise first made in 1619 - say, “We do covenant to walk together.” As covenant makers, we make promises to one another. Those promises form the bonds of community. And the bonds of community nurture and sustain us as individuals and compel us to believe that our religion actually means something - an idea implicit in the choice of integrity as one of the fundamental values of our church.
The community expression that covenant leads us to is not about common belief - it is about a communal standard of behavior. Belief is important, but it is a matter of personal conscience. I think the individual conscience is something that gives us the greatest difficulty. I suspect that is why Unitarians sometimes respond with a blank look when asked for their elevator speech. Not because they don’t believe, but because of a perceived conflict between individual conscience and tolerance.
Tolerance - another one of our core values - is usually expressed in intellectual terms. It’s about being open to the ideas and beliefs of others. But how do we do that? How do we reconcile tolerance with a firm commitment to individual conscience? Sometimes we don’t. I’ve heard it argued that we should go beyond tolerance - that to be a Unitarian means we must actively embrace the beliefs of others. I think that is to be a weather vane, blowing with the wind. I don’t agree. As James Luther Adams said, having an open mind doesn’t mean having a mind open at both ends. Having an open mind doesn’t mean we should be Eliot’s Hollow Men. But that’s the trap I think we are likely to fall into if we make tolerance into something about the intellect. We are, after all, a religious tradition. Religion is about emotion and feelings as well as intellect. That’s why I think tolerance as one of our values is about feelings. I believe tolerance means the acceptance of the validity of the different experience and feelings of other. That says nothing about the intellect and everything about the acceptance of others as human beings. I can disagree with the intellectual explanation you offer, and at the same time accept that your feelings and experience are legitimate.
Who then do I say we are? I say we are a religious community rooted in the Jewish and Christian traditions and open to future revelation and knowledge. The sacred texts of those traditions and the knowledge we may obtain tomorrow are not the final answer, but the starting point for discussion, guided by reason, that will lead us to wisdom. We interpret what we learn through the idea of covenant, making us a religious community of promise makers dedicated to deeds not creeds. And in the name of tolerance we honor and respect the unique human experience and feelings of every individual while holding fast to the right of individual conscience for ourselves and every other person - because no one has the right to individual conscience unless every person has it.
Who, then, do you say we are? I think that is the great question that faces us today. I gave you my own, personal view, but it is not for me to say. The real answer must come from you. If we answer with too much or too little certainty we will have the words of Dujune Barnes ringing in our ears: “A strong sense of identity gives man an idea he can do no wrong; too little accomplishes the same.” We will end up just another form of rigid fundamentalism - or as Eliot’s Hollow Men. But if we get it just right, then we - as a community - can come alive and be a power that can change not just our lives, but the lives of all those we encounter. If you don’t believe me, all I can say is you should have been here last night when Hope Unitarian Church presented its Religious Liberty Award to Sheryl Siddiqui and the Religious Liberty Scholarship to Boone Clemmons. We were at our very best. Last night we showed the world what we can be. So let me ask you again. Who do you say we are?
Amen