Why I Didn’t Vote for Benedict XVI
Rev. Paul Beckel
First Universalist Unitarian Church ~
www.uuwausau.org
May 1, 2005
In May, 1961, I attended the gathering at
Symphony Hall in Boston, in which we celebrated the merger of Universalism and
Unitarianism – two streams which had flowed and evolved for at least 2000 years
...from theology to heresy to modern creedless denomination.
I remember that I was sitting in the
balcony. And I have an image in my head of looking down upon a stream of
Universalist ministers coming in from one side, Unitarian ministers coming in
from the other side...meeting in the center and then flowing forward together.
However, this was 44 years ago, so I’m not sure if this is a real memory, or
just something that I imagine should have happened.
At the time of merger, Carleton Fisher
served both as president of the Universalist Church in America, and minister of
the Universalist Church of Wausau, where I would move with my family 13 years
later.
In a minute we’ll sing together the song
that had been written a few decades before merger to celebrate the growing
closeness of the two denominations over the previous century: “As Tranquil
Streams that meet and merge.”
Before we sing I would like to introduce
the theme of today’s service with two questions: First: What might it mean that
the word “universal,” a word which is at the root of Unitarian Universalism...
what might it mean that “universal” is a synonym of the word “catholic”?
Secondly: Is religious leadership a
matter of re-telling stories of the past, or is it a matter of speaking in
one’s own authentic voice to the challenges of today? Or is religious
leadership a matter of blending the voices and the stories of many streams,
into one?
GATHERING
HYMN As
Tranquil Streams #145
Summary: I was
the cutest little girl, and the smartest, until I got shot in the eye with a BB
gun. Then for years I turned inward, angry, embarrassed by the ugly scar. I finally had surgery to remove the scar; it
left an un-seeing crater, but I recovered my sense of self, mostly. I grew up
to become homecoming queen and a famous author. But I still dreaded the day my
own little girl would notice my eye. One day it happened. She looked up at me
out of her crib and just stared, finally blurting out in wonder: “Mama, there’s
a world in your eye!”
Love your enemies, do good to those who
hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone
strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.... Do to others as you would
have them do to you.
If you love those who love you... If you
do good to those who do good to you... If you lend to those from whom you hope
to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that much.
But love your enemies, do good, and lend,
expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be
children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked....
Do not judge, and you will not be judged;
do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be
forgiven .... how can you say to your neighbor, 'Friend, let me take the speck
from your eye,' when you yourself do not see the log in your own eye? You
hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see
clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye.
Knock Knock. [who’s there?] Not the Pope!
That was funnier a couple of weeks ago when there was no Pope. Now that there is a Pope, it’s pretty obvious
that knock knock, it’s not me. Cardinal Ratzinger, of course, has been elected
and installed as Pope Benedict XVI. And I’m a little miffed. After all, I was eligible for the post, along with
500 million other baptized Catholic males... And the odds were even better
since I’m straight. And German. I even went to a Catholic seminary prep school
for 4 years. But I guess it was not to be.[1]
Pope Paul...VI died when I was a high
school freshman. One morning about an hour before the get-out-of-bed-bell rang,
I awoke in a room about this size, with bunk beds for 70 freshman and
sophomores. Voices were drifting across the tops of lockers, calling out rather
cheerfully, bizarrely, repetitively and irreverently: “Pope died!” (I’m not
sure if there is any connection between that irreverence and the fact that only
1 of those 70 boys became priests.)
Next came John Paul I. He died about 30
days after taking office. We were on summer break so we didn’t get to repeat
our mourning ritual. And I’m certain it wasn’t repeated when John Paul II died
last month, because our school had closed it’s doors a few years after I
graduated.
I moved from this rural, cloistered
environment to the big world of Omaha, and a Jesuit university. Within a year I
had abandoned Catholicism, and religion altogether. (There is a UU congregation
in Omaha, but I never heard about them. At that time I had no inkling that
there was such a thing as a liberal religion.)
Still, I’ve almost always spoken about my
Catholic upbringing in positive terms. A few years ago I even gave a sermon
called, “Why I’m glad I was raised Catholic.” In brief, I’m glad because in the
Catholic Church I learned about the beauty of religious community, the power of
ethical inquiry, the necessity of ethical action, and the wonder of connection
to that which cannot be named.
It’s been pretty easy to maintain this
positive attitude toward the Catholic Church -- as long as I don’t have too
much contact with it. But over the past few weeks I’ve gotten pretty irritated
with the all the photo ops and praise for the guy whose teachings were ignored
while he was alive.[2]
But this is not going to be an
anti-Catholic rant. Some of my best friends are Catholic (really – just this
week I had the privilege of showing one of my high school seminary roommates
around this sanctuary). But that’s not why this isn’t going to be an
anti-Catholic rant. It’s also not because there are devoted Catholics in the
room. Nor because UUs only say nice things about other religions. This is not
going to be an anti-Catholic rant because I’m not Catholic; so it’s really none
of my business what they do in their private religious community. I didn’t vote
for Benedict XVI...not because I disagree with his policies, but because I
didn’t have a ballot. I’ve chosen a different path.[3]
Is it ever ok to be critical of other
people’s religion? Sure, when it relates to public policy, and especially when
it’s relevant to our own religious journey. So today I’d just like to explore
the word “catholic,” which means, of
course, “universal.”
Even as a kid I was intrigued that
“catholic” means “universal.” Another word I found intriguing was “church.” In
our everyday usage, the word “Church” meant “the building where we gathered every
morning for mass.” “Church” also meant “the mass” – as in “do I have to go to
church again?” But I also learned that the meaning of “church” is “the people
of god.” I loved that definition. Church is the people of god. It seemed to me
a lot more relevant than the building, or the event.
But I was also uneasy about church
meaning, “the people of god,” because it meant that many of my friends were
excluded from the club. (For years I thought that many of my friends were
“publics.” After all, they went to public school. We were “Catholics” and they
were “publics.”)
I also found it confusing that “catholic”
meant “universal,” since I knew we were only about 1 out of every 6 people on
the planet. Imagine how disoriented I was when I encountered Universalism. A
explicitly all-encompassing title...claimed by 1 out of every 25,000 people on the planet.
***
Over the past 2000 years, the word
“Christianity” has meant many different things. Early followers of Jesus simply
met in one another’s homes to share meals and to remember. As the centuries
passed, sanctuaries were built, and memories, and practices, evolved. One of
the most prolific teachers of the early christian community was Origen of
Alexandria. One of Origen’s teachings was that all of humankind would find
salvation.
This wasn’t heresy back then, because
Origen was among the most influential theologians of the time. More important,
it wasn’t heresy because the loosely connected followers of Jesus couldn’t do
much to enforce doctrine until they wedded themselves to the Roman Empire,
three centuries after Jesus’ death. That’s when unitarians became heretics.
Origen’s idea of universal salvation was officially condemned by a Church
Council about 200 years later.
Over the last 2000 years, the word
“universalism” has also meant many different things. This is one reason it’s
tough to explain Universalist history: which Universalism are we talking about?
Is it the theology of universal salvation (which has popped up repeatedly
within christian communities over the ages)? Or is universalism an institution
– the branch of the Christian Church which emerged to promote this specific
theology? Or is Universalism the more abstract (not necessarily christian)
principle that all people are created equal?
Universalism became an institution in the new
world when John Murray founded a congregation outside of Boston just after the
signing of The Declaration of Independence. That
Universalism was trinitarian, and in a way, just a slight twist on conservative
Calvinist theology. Calvinism taught that Christ’s death was a blood sacrifice
necessary to appease an angry God determined to punish human sinfulness. So
(taught Calvin) thanks to Christ’s sacrifice, a select few would enjoy eternal
bliss. John Murray’s Universalism essentially said, “Yes, but that sacrifice
was good enough to save all people for all time.”
In 1805 (200 years ago this spring) Universalist
theology underwent a major shift with the publication of A Treatise on
Atonement, by Hosea Ballou. Ballou’s Universalism (which held sway for the
next 100+ years) was still deeply rooted in scripture, but its argument for
universal salvation was no longer based on atonement by blood sacrifice.
Instead, Jesus was seen as a gift from God to the world. Jesus was a teacher, a
symbol of love from an all-loving creator who would condemn no one to eternal
torment.
(Ballou’s views were very much like those
of Pope John Paul II, who described hell not as a place, but simply as being
cut off from God. Something that happened by one’s own choice.)
Ballou’s Universalism lasted well into
the 20th century. It informed those who founded the Universalist
Church of Wausau in 1870, and probably those who built its third building, the
one we’re sitting in, in 1915. But the theological evolution was continuing. As
believers in the equality of all of God’s people, Universalists advocated for
the end of slavery, for woman suffrage, for public sanitation, health care,
education, decent treatment of the mentally ill, and labor safety standards.
Before they knew it, the Universalists found themselves more concerned with
building the kingdom of God here and now, and less concerned with the
hereafter.
In 1893, The World’s Parliament of
Religions in Chicago opened new windows onto the world of religion.
Universalists gradually began to understand their religion as one among many.
And increasingly, they found themselves cooperating with Unitarians. The
Humanist Manifesto (published 72 years ago today, May 1st, 1933) was
signed by 13 Unitarian ministers and one Universalist minister, Dolly Scott’s
father-in-law Clinton Lee Scott.
The notion that we are all equal in the
eyes of a loving God became more inclusive, and abstract. In the 1940s a symbol
emerged: a circle, containing a small cross off to one side, making room for
other sources of inspiration.
Eventually this idea became the first
principle of the covenant among Unitarian Universalist congregations its
present form voted upon in 1985, affirming the inherent worth and dignity of
every person. Or wait, I guess it would
be the 7th principle,
promoting respect for the interdependent web of all existence, of which we are
a part. Or no, it’s in “acceptance of one another,” or “justice, equity, and
compassion,” ...or I guess, hopefully, it’s infused into all that we affirm and promote, together.
We’re all in the same boat; we sink or
swim together; we’re all saved or none of us are saved. Or, in regard to the
afterlife, we don’t know, so let’s talk about something that matters.
The shift from an explicitly Christian
Universalism to today’s Universalism took many years, many experiments, many
debates. (Pick up a copy of Julie Stoneberg’s recent Easter sermon. It’s a
marvelous description of the theological evolution of in this congregation over the past 80 years.) In 1946, the
denominational magazine, The Christian Leader, published articles by
Clinton Lee Scott, and by the Rev’s Carleton Fisher and Brainerd Gibbons, both
of whom served the Wausau congregation and
the presidency of the Universalist Church in America -- articles promoting the
shift from understanding Universalism as a doctrine within Christianity, to a Universalism whose future lay beyond
Christianity.
Gibbons wrote, “A new type of
Universalism is proclaimed which shifts the emphasis on universal from
salvation to religion and describes Universalism as boundless in scope, as
broad as humanity, and as infinite as the universe.”
A momentous decision was made – merger with the Unitarians was finalized in 1961.
But Gibbons appears not to have been
satisfied. Returning to Wausau in 1970, for the occasion of the 100th
anniversary of the founding of this congregation, he preached, “...the goal
of universal religion lies far, far off, but the path of truth leads in that
direction. So, pursue it!”
Another speaker at the 100th
anniversary party was more direct. Former minister Rev. Joe Nerad said:
“Universalists: you are squatting on the biggest word in the language. Either improve the premises or get off them.”
***
But back to Catholicism: On this day, May
1st, 1503, Coelius Secundus Curio was born in San Chiricio, Italy.
He studied for the Catholic priesthood but was influenced by Martin Luther, and
was imprisoned several times by the Inquisition for his anti-Trinitarian ideas.
Each time he escaped. During the Spanish siege of Milan, he organized relief
for civilian war victims.[4]
Before becoming Pope, Cardinal Ratzinger
served in the office of the Grand Inquisitor, now renamed something less
odious. So, since I’m a spiritual descendant of both Coelius Secundus Curio and
a not too distant cousin to Ratzinger, I think it is relevant that I clarify that I affirm many of the things
which the Pope has recently taken pains to condemn, including: liberalism,
feminism, atheism, vague religious mysticism, agnosticism, and syncretism.
Syncretism means the blending of religious ideas or forms – something that I
find inevitable, and deeply enriching.
“Pontiff” means “bridge.” Bridges can be
great images for religious leadership: bridging traditions, generations...
connecting. I’m not saying that it’s always possible to straddle a large
divide. But Roman architects (visualize the aqueducts) found that they could
span incredible distances with lots of little steps. Let’s pray that Benedict
will at least stick his foot in the holy water.
But perhaps it would shed more light and
understanding to consider the dirt we’ve noticed in the eye of the Catholic
Church, and see how it matches that in our own. Here are 9 examples – things
we’ve criticized Catholics for overdoing. How are we doing ourselves?
#1 Doctrine: The Catholic church has
official doctrine; Unitarian Universalists do not. But doctrine still ends up
being a trap for us. We often get roped into the conversation about “What do
UUs believe?” The answer is no. What holds us together is not beliefs but a
covenant. A promise to support a UU congregation. And what holds the
congregations together is a covenant to affirm and promote a set of broad
principles.
Or we get caught in the semantic trap of
“Oh, you guys can believe whatever you want?” Again, the answer is no, we do
not believe whatever we want. We accept responsibility for what we believe.
#2 Secrecy: The Catholics often get
criticized for secrecy. UUs don’t have any official secrets, or if we do no one
will tell me. But still, every scandal on Wall Street, in the White House, and
in the public schools remind us that we
need to go out of our way to be proactively transparent in our governance, and
finances, and in what we do with those kids when they go off without their
parents.
#3 Centralization: On this matter we do
pretty well as an association without strong central power. But within our congregations we are so wary
of clerical power that we risk becoming centralized around aristocracy, or
inertia.
#4 Intellectual isolation: We don’t ban
books, but we may find ourselves associating only with people who read the same
books we do.
#5 Supernaturalism: we criticize other
religions for being superstitious or not sufficiently rational. But at least
other religions will admit that there are some things that they can’t explain.
#6 Traditionalism: Mordecai Kaplan,
founder of Reconstructionist Jewish movement, said: “Tradition ought to have a
vote, not a veto.” Any organization is
vulnerable to the brittleness of tradition. But it’s not necessarily the
traditionalists who are at fault. The “no” vote only becomes a veto when the
yes-es fail to assert themselves.
#7 Uniformity: Here we have a mixed
record. On the one hand the Catholics have us beat cold in diversity of age,
race, class, national origin, and political views. On the other hand, UUs do
reasonably well in spanning an incredibly diverse theological range from
ritualistic pagans to rationalistic humanists.
#8 Intolerance: Again mixed. We are so
frightened and angry with a particular brand of Christianity that we do
everything we can not to be like them. If we see them thriving, excited, doing
a thousand times the outreach ministry we do, financially solvent, committed to
spreading their good news... we get so disgusted that we pledge not to do any
of these things.
#9, and in conclusion, there’s the matter
of smugness. Calling oneself a “Universalist” certainly invites the charge of
illusions of superiority. Our usual defense is to plead frivolousness. So we
say with Grouch Marx, “I wouldn't belong to any club that would have me as a
member.”
What is the alternative? Like Gibbons,
Fisher, and Scott, I aspire to see religion in a grand all-encompassing way.
But I never anticipate being able to grasp this wholeness. The image I have in
mind is a network of infinite connections. Somewhere within that network, I am a meetingplace. Unitarian Universalism
is a meeting place. So is Islam, and Saigon, and the Inquisition, and love, and
the word “god.” But every one of these meeting places, these nodes, these
places of connection ...is incomplete, limited, blinded by its own inescapable
complexity.
Each meeting blinded, perhaps, by the
world in our eyes; blinded by the radiance of our own beauty.
CLOSING
HYMN Somos El Barco
Somos el barco,
somos el mar
Yo navego en
ti, tu navegas in mi
We are the
boat, we are the sea
I sail in you,
you sail in me.
Benedict of course means, literally, to
speak well. Let’s conclude today by speaking of our wishes for Benedict: May he
be filled with loving kindness. May he be at peace and at ease. May he be
happy. May he be well.
[1] At least not yet. But if this guy lives 10 years...and then they put him on a feeding tube for another 20....
[2] a lot like Jesus: after he dies, praise his memory and ignore his teachings....
[3] Some people are both Catholic AND UU, but I’ve chosen not to be one of them.
[4]
Frank Schulman, This Day in Unitarian Universalist History