No Flags? Or More Flags?

Rev. Paul Beckel
First Universalist Unitarian Church
November 4, 2001

INTRODUCTION
Everywhere we turn these days we see flags and declarations of American unity. But how unified are we?

Does the rough hand-painted banner proclaiming: "United we stand" mean the same thing as the fancy mass-produced posters which say "God Bless America?" Are these in sympathy with the marquee which states, in a commanding tone: "Pledge Allegiance to the Flag"? And are all of these of one sentiment with the marquee that blares: "Let's bomb 'em all till we get the right one"? And what about those simple flag stickers on my bananas?

Are these images of unity in diversity, or are they symbols of an uneasy tension ... a potentially fractious division that lies beneath a superficial unity represented by an abundance of flags?

CHILDREN'S FOCUS
Synopsis: Juliette Guth tells us about why she has chosen to become a church member. Juliette, who has been our custodian for years, has been and continues to be a member of a Pentecostal church. But she has also found this church to be a place where her religious perspective is welcomed and where she is befriended and supported for who she is.

She tells a story about her grandson, Nollie, who is mentally retarded. A teacher once asked the children to draw with crayons and Nollie picked a white crayon. After drawing for a while he asked the teacher if his crayon was broken. No, your crayon is fine ­ the teacher said. And she gave him a piece of black paper to color on. Juliette then reflected upon how in our church, many people who didn't share her beliefs in God seemed to be coloring with a white crayon on black paper. And this was something she'd come to learn was a valid way of seeing the world.

READING "No Flag"
These are the words of Jelaluddin Rumi, a Sufi poet from thirteenth century Persia. The Sufis are a mystical sect of Islam.

I used to want buyers for my words.
Now I wish someone would buy me away from words.

I've made a lot of charmingly profound images,
Scenes with Abraham, and Abraham's father, Azar,
Who was also famous for icons.

I'm so tired of what I've been doing.

Then one image without form came,
and I quit.

Look for someone else to tend the shop.
I'm out of the image making business.

Finally I know the freedom
of madness.

A random image arrives. I scream,
"Get out!" It disintegrates.

Only love.
Only the holder the flag fits into,
and wind.
No flag.

MESSAGE
A Saturday Night Live sketch portrays a children's TV show ­ something like "Jolly Junction," in which some jolly kids come on stage to sing about the joys of cherished community values. Each darling child wears a T-shirt with a large letter to symbolize their important value. Umberto wears a "U" for Unity, Carmen wears a "C" for Caring, and Katy wears a "K" for Kindness. Imagine them lined up across the stage. [...U-C-K]

But today, boys and girls, a special guest is visiting: Mr. Friendly ­ the big F!

As Mr. Friendly approaches the front of the line, we see the conductor of Jolly Junction getting very nervous. And not knowing what to do, he finally throws Mr. Friendly to the ground and wrestles him off the stage.

Katy, Carmen, and Umberto are astonished. They can't figure out why anyone wouldn't want Mr. Friendly in the show.

I love this sketch because it demonstrates how words and other symbols can be interpreted so differently when seen from different perspectives. It portrays both the necessity and the absurdity of our attempts to control what other people see and how they see it.

It's such a wonderfully absurd image that I'd like to apply it now to two completely different scenarios.

First, let's imagine that the conductor of Jolly Junction represents one of our state senators who, about a month ago, proposed a new flag anti-desecration law. The proposed law would make it a crime to deface the flag in such a way as to provoke violence.

Now we could be cynical and imagine that this was an attempt to capitalize on a tragedy. But let's imagine instead that our senator is just like the nervous conductor. The children (like me) can't imagine why he would want to keep Mr. F (for free speech) off the show. But the conductor is terribly concerned about what the F could mean in this unforeseen context.

The wrestling in the sketch is especially apt in this case because, in promoting his new bill, our august lawmaker said: Any flag desecration, even by a lone person in the wilderness of northern Wisconsin, could lead to a riot or violence... "Even if you're alone in your yard, if a neighbor saw you [desecrate the flag], he could get violent. If I drove by, I'd sure be mad."

In other words, his new law would ensure that if you say or do something that your neighbor considers unpatriotic, then your neighbor can beat you up and you'll be at fault for provoking it.

***
Well now, I've had my laughs at someone else's expense. Now I'll place myself in the position of the conductor.

When it comes to American flags, lately, I guess I am like the conductor. I don't like to see that big F on display. I'm leery of what it might represent to my children.

I'm sure there are those who wonder what's wrong with me. How on earth could I be opposed to Mr. F, the flag, perennial symbol of freedom?

Yes, perhaps I am over-reacting. Why shouldn't we proudly display a symbol of unity and liberty, especially at a time when, more than ever, we need to remind ourselves of these ideals that we cherish?

The flags I've seen in the past couple of months make me uneasy because they are so often accompanied by comments like, at best, "God Bless America" (which I find frighteningly nationalistic). Getting worse, they are accompanied by cute slogans and logos and unnecessarily militarized jingles. Getting worse, the flags seem to be utilized for commercialism.

Getting worse, the flag seems to be hauled out to bless every political agenda, which is presented now as an urgent matter of national security. Some of these are routine political agendas dealing with economic, military, or environmental policy. Others are more strikingly hypercritical ­ attacking civil liberties in the name of the flag. (I'll address this matter in depth next week.)

And perhaps trivial, but most hideous to me are those expressions of ethnic and religious bigotry which are wrapped in expressions of patriotism.

Obviously this is not what the majority of flag-wavers are trying to express. But these most egregious expressions are the ones that stand out. And I don't want my kids to think that's what the flag is about.

The tone of so many flag displays, T-shirts, and storefront marquees has been: "America - Love it or leave it." But I really don't think that's the spirit of the flag. "Wear red white and blue and praise the president or I'm going to bash your head in." ? I just can't agree that that is the spirit of the flag.

It's tempting to just shrug all this off and give the flag over to those who most zealously claim it. But I'm not going to do that. The flag is mine too. And I pledge allegiance to the principles for which it stands: not a nation under god, but a nation of many religious orientations, including an orientation that reveres doubt as much as piety.

I pledge allegiance to a republic which stands for free expression, separation of church and state, a free press which acts as watchdog over government, the presumption of innocence until proven guilty, and freedom from unlawful search and seizure. THESE are the ideals that this flag has represented since it was first conceived. I detest its desecration by those who would twist these ideals cute empty slogans, paranoia, and isolationism.

***
The flag, the G-O-D word, the church, the nation, the eagle, and other words like "patriotism" and "freedom..." all of these are images or symbols into which we cram truckloads of meaning.

Loaded with all that meaning, these words and symbols can be astonishingly powerful. The Taliban obviously take symbolism very seriously. In order to complete their destruction of Afghanistan's ancient monumental stone Buddhas, they literally had to attack with heavy artillery. They perceived these images as that dangerous.

Images are incredibly powerful - whether visual [pictures, text] or aural [words, music]. They are, first of all, terribly complex. In a flash a picture can convey a thousand words...or a word (like "patriotism") can convey a thousand pictures.

Such symbols also have the power of immediacy. The first moment we saw the twin towers burning we had a clairvoyant sense that our lives were going to get ugly. In an instant we began to see a bleak future. Our projections may or may not have been accurate, but they were there, immediately, in our minds.

Some images have an additional power in being indelible. We will never forget the picture of the burning towers or other sensory images that accompanied moments in our lives ­ either pleasant or unpleasant - when we were shocked into awareness.

Finally, symbols have the power to elicit a deep emotional response. Last night in Yawkey Hall, R. played some lounge tunes for us and when he got to New York, New York I could not sing along because I didn't want to break down.

That song has always conveyed for me a sense of indomitable perseverance. We are witnessing some of that from old New York these days, but the light-hearted confidence of that song now seems sadly anachronistic.

I don't expect you all to feel that way about the song, New York, New York. So I guess I should loosen up and give some leeway to those who, with a wide range of feelings, are singing God Bless America. Even though I'm disturbed by what I interpret as isolationism and nationalism in that song, I should probably give the benefit of the doubt to those who find in it other significance.

***
Rumi found an entirely different approach to freedom. Overwhelmed by what he perceived as the meaninglessness of images, he sought to get out of the business altogether. You might expect as much from a mystic ­ mystics being optimists, in my view, hoping to encounter the divine in formless ecstasy.

I don't have the heart of a mystic but I don't view Rumi's aspirations cynically. They are, rather, even for the humanist, a healthy reminder not to take ourselves so seriously as to think that we're ever going to get reality all nailed down in any comprehensible form ­ even in the form of our ideas.

His poem is also a good reminder that Islam in general shuns icons or visual representations of any kind. One cannot, of course, avoid the broader symbolism of its mosques, traditions, and myths, but I have a great deal of respect for that element of the Muslim tradition which does not try to pin down its God.

"Only the holder the flag fits into, and wind. / No flag."

To Rumi, the word "G-O-D" had all the limits of a symbol or a flag. He wanted the thing itself, not an image.

John Lennon was only a little less optimistic. When he sang "...imagine no religion" I don't think he wasn't contemplating universal mysticism. But he was imagining that human beings might at least stop using their god-flags and flagpoles to attack one another.

Rumi said "no flag," but he wasn't about to burn anyone else's flag. John Lennon never tried to take anyone out in order to create a world without religion. But in a world seemingly bent not only upon having flags, but upon wielding them against one another, Rumi and Lennon could be considered loving voices of dissent ­ artists of the white crayon tradition.

This kind of dissent, this tradition of offering probing, critical questions is not an expression of betrayal. Both within our society and in our church, criticism and doubt are essential to sustaining the democracy.

The final principle of which I will speak today, for which our republic stands, dissent assumes intelligence, and critical reasoning, and paying attention - not just taking whatever one is fed.

Dissent is the white crayon at which everyone scoffs. It is the second opinion which is too often ignored. It is the constant reminder that we must compare what we are doing to what we profess: Are our policies consistent with our principles? Do we honor the inalienable rights of our neighbors in the same way we honor our own? Are we acting with integrity? Do our nation, our flag, our church, and our lives truly represent what we wish for them to represent?

***
I see here in front of me flags of the United States and the United Nations. In the past 3 months I haven't heard a single comment ­ pro or con - about our displaying these flags.

I'd love to see at least a couple more flags here. An earth flag and a rainbow flag in particular. I sense that the vast majority of our church members affirm the ideals represented by the earth flag and the rainbow flag.

And yet, I'm not sure that these other flags would be entirely welcome here on display. These flags make bold statements. Acting as nervous conductors, we might be uneasy about what other people might think.

In the scope of adding diversity to our image as a congregation, flags may be just 3 foot by 5 foot details, but I think these details would go a long way to clarify for visitors what we stand for.

We can say that we affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person. But a rainbow flag would convey this in a much more immediate, emotional, complex, and indelible fashion.

We can write in our order of service that we respect the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part. But an earth flag would declare this in a much more vibrant way.

***
The American flag, the rainbow flag, the earth flag, the United nations flag. They stand for many things, but I would draw out of their complex symbolism the power of free expression.

You don't have to agree with me. The beauty of free expression is that we can disagree without fear that someone is going to take us down.

If you use the flag to represent something that I consider trivial, or contrary to what I see as the spirit of America, I can't make you put away your flag. The antidote to ideas, images, or speech that I don't support is not less, but more speech, more ideas, more images which express what I do support.

As grumpy as I may feel toward them, I cannot tear flags down - but only raise more flags myself. So I would propose a display here of many flags. Not just Earth flags and rainbow flags, but flags representing different religious traditions, or nations.

And let me be clear: the flags don't have to be flags. Maybe they shouldn't be flags. Perhaps we could represent our diversity and dissent in stained glass windows, or kid's drawings. We can do it with words, or movies or songs or tapestries or mosaics or a mobile.

Anything which represents the pluralistic welcome that we extend to all whether they draw with red, blue, or white crayon.

We cannot enforce 'No flags' - because no one can be coerced into being a mystic.

But more flags ­ more color, more representation - that's a real possibility, and a rather beautiful one, I think. So let us wave the red white and blue, the red orange yellow green blue and violet... with all of the colors of the earth, sky, and sea.

And when all of these colors are waving in concert, then I will say, "United we stand."

Sources
Thanks to Barry Liss of UWMC for his insights into images as immediate, indelible, complex, and capable of eliciting deep emotionally responses.