(Mis)Appropriation
Rev.
Paul Beckel
First
Universalist Unitarian Church ~ www.uuwausau.org
INTRODUCTION
[chime]
Good morning, I’m Paul Beckel. This is
an Indian singing bowl. Its sound helps
me find focus. And yet, I have limited experience with East Indian culture, so
I wonder – is it appropriate for me to take this bowl, this sound, and all of
the symbolic value that goes with it, it is appropriate for me to take it, to
use it, to make it my own?
Let’s
take a look at our affirmation. It is
essentially a collage of universal values, a patchwork of ideals drawn from a
variety of sources. A version similar to
our own was composed by the Unitarian Church of All Souls in Evanston, Illinois
just over 100 years ago. I don’t know
who changed it or how it came to be used regularly here.
Let’s
say it together: Love is the spirit of this church, and service is its
gift. This is our great covenant: to
dwell together in peace, to seek the truth in love, and to help one another.
We
may think of these ideals as so broad as to be universal. And yet, I wonder, how would we feel if the
Methodists were to decide that they like this affirmation and started saying it
every week? What if a pro-life movement were to decide they really like “Spirit
of Life” and they started singing it at their rallies? What if a Pentecostal group started lighting
a flaming chalice to represent their overflowing with the spirit? It’s a tricky
question: Is imitation a matter of honoring another tradition, or is it
stealing?
It’s
an important question for Unitarian Universalists, who draw inspiration from a
wide variety of sources. How dare we?
Our
gathering hymn is a Buddhist text set to an Indian tune. It takes a lot of chutzpah to form such a
composition. And as you’ll see, contorting ourselves into something so
musically unfamiliar is only a little easier than taking the lotus position.
But please, stretch with me anyway:
GATHERING SONG #181
Eclecticism.
It’s not just for Unitarian Universalists – eclecticism is a common theme in
American life. We are a people who assemble our lives: our values, our
traditions, our styles of dress, home decoration, and religious expression. We
select a bit from here and a bit from there....
We are blessed perhaps as no
people in the history of the world with choices.
As
thanksgiving approaches, when I think about what I’m thankful for, I cannot
help but recall the phenomenal degree of personal freedom to choose that
I enjoy.
Thanksgiving
– it brings out a variety of images of Native American culture. Which do we choose to convey to our
children? Which are respectful, which
are authentic?
These
questions apply not just to Native American traditions. Since I’m a Euro-American, I wonder if it’s
ok for me to grab onto the symbols, styles, music, or the issues that identify
American black culture?” Since I am a
cultural christian, can I ever hope to really get ‘Eastern Spirituality’? As a man, can I take up the banners of
Feminism?
Is it invasive for non-Muslim American soldiers
in Iraq to fast during Ramadan? What if they only do it one day a week? Some
Muslims might find this a symbol of solidarity and respect. Others might find it to defile their
tradition.
Should humanists sing Christmas Carols? Or take
communion when they visit christian churches?
Sure.
Why not? As religious assemblers we are
not attempting to jam together pieces from unrelated puzzles. On the contrary, our work can be seen as
weaving the threads of the single fabric of human aspiration. If we believe that our similarities are more
enduring than our differences, then it seems appropriate that we would attempt
to gather together in one place the symbols, art, music, literature, and wisdom
of humanity.
And
in fact all successful, enduring religions do this. Combining traditions and cultures, evolving
over time, merging their own practices and celebrations with earlier,
neighboring, and even rival traditions.
Across
time and culture, efforts have been made to bring out the best in
humanity. Teachings, stories, and
rituals have passed on Universal truths, seeking to transform us –
from
idolatry to humility,
from
narcissism to expansive wholeness;
from
fear to trust;
from
self-satisfaction to openness;
from
isolation to connectedness;
from
tightfistedness to generosity;
from
despair to gratitude.
These
abstract universal themes are pretty hard to convey without prayers, props, and
parties. Only Unitarian Universalists try to teach college-level concepts to 5
year olds without the help of symbols and rituals.
So,
lacking our own, we often latch on to the symbols and rituals of other
traditions. And why not? They are treasures.
The
monks of the middle ages painstakingly copied the great works of Aristotle and
the ancient world, preserving them for a time to come. There is always a need of people and
institutions to cherish, practice, and preserve the human and social values
that may one day blossom again.
The hard question, though, is whether it is
necessary or even possible to preserve such artifacts in their original
form.
When musicians, artists, and architects copy and
combine aesthetic styles that move them, the styles lose something, and gain
something else. Is that bad? Is it
inevitable? Does being inevitable make
it ok? Is adaptation the surest way to preserve
and transfer a tradition into new realms?
I once read a flyer from the Unity school of
Christianity which quoted Ralph Waldo Emerson extensively, at least implying
that his ideas were foundational to their movement. What a surprise! I thought he was ours. Should we be flattered or possessive?
Emerson,
by the way, said that appropriation is the beginning of originality.
***
Does
anyone remember Zelig, a Woody Allen
movie from the 70s? As usual Woody’s
character (Zelig) is a hapless, bumbling, ordinary American, this time in the
1930’s. Zelig, though ordinary in many
ways, wants to understand and appreciate his fellow human beings. In fact, he is so in-touch with those around
him that he begins to transform -- physically, mentally, and culturally... in
the presence of people unlike himself.
When
he meets a scientist he finds that he speaks in incredibly complex jargon.
Among the upper crust of society, his mannerisms become perfectly
appropriate. When he speaks with a black
servant, his skin turns black. Seemingly
innocent to the enormous power that this unique ability carries, Zelig finds
himself increasingly famous, and in-demand.
And when, with characteristic naiveté, he addresses a large cheering
crowd alongside Adolph Hitler, we see that he has grown a sinister-looking
mustache.
Zelig is a sharp
social commentary on the dangerous balancing act between appreciating and
identifying with others with whom we are in relationship, and losing our own
identity.
Sensitivity
toward others. Knowing their pain. Appreciating their truths. These are not bad things. But they can go too
far.
As
a teenager, I took seriously the interpretation of Christian scripture which
invoked me to give up my own self. I took this as challenge to see the world
through the eyes of others, and I truly felt blessed to have the opportunity.
Fasting,
sleeping in ditches, traveling to foreign lands -- I was determined to know the
experience of those with whom I was sympathetic -- the hungry, the homeless,
and the foreigner. Beyond that, I even wanted to understand the perspective of
those whose way of life I emphatically denounced -- so I joined the
Marines. (I haven’t denounced them
since.)
When I discovered Unitarian Universalism, it seemed like paradise! Here I found that I could encounter and identify with so many variations on the human theme that I would never be at a loss for new adventures of the soul.
And
so I remain, an unrepentant borrower. looking into the lives of anyone who has
something that can touch my life or anything I can use to help you do the same.
We utilize this flaming chalice, a composite of symbols seen in religions
throughout the world. I have no qualms
about using as a symbol “the web of all existence,” which may have a variety of
precedents, not the least of which is the 14th century Native American myth of
the spider woman who wove the web of creation.
I’m
as careful as I can be to credit my sources and to offer context. But often there is little clarity as to what
is original, and who is taking from whom.
Maybe when I have a full-time research assistant I will become more culturally sensitive. Until then, I will – as humbly and respectfully as possible, pass on any source that can help to unite and to challenge us as individuals and as a community.
***
One
universal power we all possess is the power of silence. I invite you now into a refreshing few
minutes of shared silence. See if you
can clear your mind because afterward I’m going to say about the opposite of
what I’ve just said.
SILENCE
(3:00)
“Cultural
appropriation is incorporating language, cultural expressions, forms,
lifestyles, rituals or practices, about which their is little basis for direct
knowledge, experience, or authenticity, into one’s own being. It is...superficial appreciation of a culture
without regard to its deeper meaning.
...Cultural
appropriation is acting in ways that belie understanding or respect for the
historical, social, and spiritual context out of which particular traditions
and cultural expressions were born.” [these are the words of Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley,
an African American colleague of mine]
A
central principle of the African American festival of Kwanzaa is Self
Determination -- the right of African Americans to define themselves, name
themselves, create for themselves, and speak for themselves instead of being
defined, named, created, and spoken for by others. Yet well-intentioned Caucasians still attempt
to “celebrate” Kwanzaa without African American leadership.
We
have a wonderful Thanksgiving tradition in this church which is modeled on the
Jewish Passover Seder – a ritualized meal involving readings and songs about a
passage to religious freedom. It’s a
brilliant analogy. But it still makes me
uneasy to hear it called a “Seder.”
The
harshest critics of cultural misappropriation point to the emptiness of
American culture that leads us to a spiritual hunger so deep that we must
consume the riches of others. Even if
we’re not ready to accept that American culture is superficial, or Americans
ignorant and lazy, we do have to acknowledge that our tendency to mix and match
puts us at risk. We risk shallowness; we risk being suckered by anyone offering
salvation for a buck. We also risk being drawn into others’ hidden agendas.
Here’s
an example: The Virgin of Guadalupe. She
was first sighted shortly after Cortez introduced the Catholic Spanish empire
to the indigenous Aztec empire.
According to the legend, the vision of the Virgin Mary came to a
peasant, who had to go to great lengths to get the Bishop to believe his
story. But with the supernatural
assistance of the Virgin herself, a Cathedral was built in her honor at the
place which had, until then, been the temple of the Aztec corn goddess,
Tonantsi.
To
this day the two goddesses have not been completely separated in the minds of
the people... but in one form or another the Lady has been a sacred symbol for
their eventual independence from Spain, for other Independence movements, and
for Mexican emigrant farm workers. She
remains a complex symbol of empowerment and yet the symbol of a religious
tradition that continues to deny women equal status in society.
I
grew up in a small Minnesota town where our sports teams were called the Wadena
Indians. A few years ago they changed
the name to the Wolverines... even though Chief Wadena himself (the real one)
apparently supported keeping the “Indians” name. This remains a huge issue in Cleveland, where
the Indians are major league baseball’s largest seller of logo paraphernalia.
A
few years ago, Minnesota legislated away the use of the word “squaw” in place
names. Even after it was made clear that
the term was of French origin, and referred disparagingly to female genitalia,
there were those who argued that we must continue to “honor” native women by
keeping hundreds of squaw lakes and squaw points, et cetera, on the map.
But
closer to home, here’s an example of someone dabbling with what may be MY most
sacred symbol: liberty, and its quintessential American prophet: Thomas
Jefferson. On the day he went to jail, Timothy McVeigh wore a T-shirt quoting
Jefferson – as right wing militia groups are wont to do: “The tree of liberty
must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”
So
does Jefferson and Liberty belong to the radical right? Or to the radical left? Or to that good old moderate William
Jefferson Clinton who warned militia groups in a speech shortly after the
Oklahoma City bombing, “don’t appropriate our
sacred symbols for your paranoid purposes.”
But
c’mon, really. What real harm could
it do to borrow from another culture?
Let’s take, for example, the harm done to Native American cultures.
First,
when a dominant culture takes on the myths of another culture, and refuses its
practitioners the opportunity to define the meaning of their own rituals, we
destroy the culture. Ultimately
non-Indians may have complete power to define what is and what is not
Indian...even for Indians.
Second,
romanticized stereotypes -- such as those of Native American tribes sharing
resources, and living in perpetual harmony with one another and the environment
– are false. And false stereotypes, no matter how well-intended, benefit no
one.
Third,
we may simply be feeling guilty, and seeking redemption. Aware of what white culture has done, we may
wish to be re-affirmed by the Other, and told that we’re OK. We see this
phenomenon in movies like Dances With
Wolves. (which I admit I loved...it
made me feel like I was not one of the culprits destroying Indian culture.)
Finally,
by taking Indian themes out of the context of the tribal community, and playing
them to a New Age audience focused on individual growth and prosperity,
we alter their meaning dramatically. In this way, whites get to experience
their own distorted idea of being spiritual and “Indian,” without any sense of
the responsibility to the community which is fundamental to native religion.
It
can be a blessing...or a curse - to walk in their moccasins. So what are we to do?
The
megachurches of our day are succeeding by blending contemporary music and
culture with the old Calvinist message of human depravity. Not unlike those missionaries of old who went
into foreign lands, who incorporated Aztec, or Korean, or Asian Indian customs
into their form of Christianity. It
worked then, and it’s working today.
It’s
working so well that conservatism pretty much defines Christianity today. So Unitarian christianity, or liberal
christianity, are thought of as oxymorons.
Does this mean that we should give up?
Do we have to leave Eastern religions only to those who grew up with
them, and even leave Christianity to those who think they own it?
Or
could we carefully distinguish between respectful appreciation and phony
identification? I think we have to
try.
***
What
does it really mean to respect the inherent worth and dignity of every person
in terms of their culture or religion?
First,
and most simply, we need to be cautious, think deeply about our use of
traditions that are not our own.
Second,
we should ask the other’s blessing for the use of their ceremonies. And better yet, we should allow them to lead
their own ceremonies, and stand by as sincere observers.
So
if we have Kwanzaa led by African Americans, or a Seder with Jews, when we come
to the part about “we” have struggled through oppression... we can get a
genuine sense of its meaning for its original community.
Third,
we can engage in dialogue with real members of other culture, and not
commercially-oriented shams. We can get
into the lives of our neighbors who
are African American, Jewish, Native American, etc... and not use the excuse
that those people don’t live in our neighborhoods.
Fourth,
we can be allies when we see the political and economic power of cultural
minorities being stripped away.
And
finally, we need to discover, and honor, our own traditions and culture, and we
need to do our own spiritual work.
For in the words of James Ford, UU Minister and Ordained Buddhist Monk, “The true spiritual quest cannot be done vicariously. In the last analysis we must do it ourselves. We must bring our own bodies into the quest. And there should be no doubt this is difficult and dangerous. The genuine spiritual quest really is a walk into the desert. Have no doubt about this. To walk into the desert of the heart is to put our very lives on the line -- to throw everything into the quest. This isn’t taking a vacation.”
By
birth or adoption, many of us find ourselves an awkward mix of several cultural, religious, and racial
backgrounds. Perhaps by sincere
appreciation and years of study, we have taken on a complex mixture of
self-identity. Let us honor ourselves, and
all others, by continuing our spiritual quests together.
As
the Zoroastrians were known to say (before their term was co-opted by another
group): AMEN.
SENDING SONG: #186 – Confucius text blended with
Kentucky Harmony from 1821
BENEDICTION
This
flame is meant for sharing. Take it into
your hearts, and live lives full of peace and gratitude until we meet again.