Here follows part two of “Watch Your Language,” the Rev. Fredric Muir’s response to a call for a deeper religious language in Unitarian Universalism.

Part one can be found here.

Watch Your Language, part 2

by the Rev. Fredric J. Muir

The language of faith is so difficult. The challenge of faith language is one which Bill Sinkford speaks about in an email message dated January 15 [2003]. Here is some of what he said:

“I understand that there has been considerable discussion and distress over what was published in a newspaper article recently. I am writing to share with you what happened, to address your concerns, and to assure you that I share many of the concerns you have expressed. Here is what happened. Sunday, January 12, [2003,] I preached a sermon entitled ‘The Language of Faith’ at First Jefferson UU Church in Ft. Worth, TX. Following the service, I did an interview with a reporter from the local paper, an interview which covered a number of issues including the points about religious language I made in my sermon and magazine column.”

“The reporter published a story that reported things I did not say, and drew conclusions that I did not reach. In particular, the reporter’s first sentence read, ‘A former atheist who is now president of the UUA will push to put the word God into a new statement of principles.’”

“Let me be very clear: I spoke of the need to periodically revisit -– that is, to read and reflect upon –- our foundational language. I did not call for the Principles to be rewritten. I spoke of the need for individuals to consider supplementing the language of the Principles with religious language in describing their own faith. I did not call for the inclusion of the word God in either the principles or in anyone’s individual descriptions of their personal faith.”

“I understand the alarm and genuine distress that many of you felt on reading the news story and accounts of it. I have learned from these events that I need to exercise greater care in addressing the broader world, including reporters, about Unitarian Universalism language and beliefs”.

“That said, I still believe that it is time for us to have a conversation about our foundational language. This incident has the potential to lead us into a rich discussion of who we are and how we describe ourselves. I welcome that discussion.”

A challenge we must face is what Sinkford calls “foundational language,” or what I have come to think of as the lingua franca of religion, the dictionary that we have been handed because we are a faith community, a religious community. What do we do with this dictionary, other than reject it and try to invent a language that very few understand?

A little perspective might help: Unitarian Universalists are about one-tenth of one percent of the population. Internationally, we are miniscule. We are already isolated because we are so small. But then when we use the language of science or psychology or politics to describe what traditionally has been faith and religious issues, people look at us like we’re from another world: What on earth are these UUs talking about? They want to know, because we don’t use the language of religion.

I will tell you this: Many of you know that since September 11, 2001 I have been making an effort to do interfaith work. On a regular basis I meet with an imam, a rabbi, and a Christian minister, and I have been working hard at using the language of faith, because that is the language they use. If I didn’t use the language of faith, I would have a difficult time bridging some of the gaps, the chasms that exist between our faith communities. I didn’t come to that realization easily. In fact, even today there are some words that I choke on, some of those words that I have written about but don’t speak. But I will try.

Some of you may have heard me tell this story: When I first started my doctoral work at Wesley Theological Seminary (a Methodist Christian seminary), I was required to take a class in homiletics (preparing and delivering sermons). My professor was a nationally renowned Methodist preacher. The first class he lectured. The second class he gave us the liturgical calendar for the Christian church and said, “I want you to pick two Sundays, including a holiday, that you have never preached about, and you will be required to design an entire worship service around that theme.” Well I looked through it and thought, oh Lord – I can’t do it! The language was unfamiliar to me; there were Sunday observances I had never heard of before. In desperation, I called my professor and explained who I was, that I was a Unitarian Universalist minister, and here’s the way we do things, and we don’t acknowledge or celebrate these events, and I went on and on. I concluded by saying to him that in looking at this liturgical calendar, I felt like a visitor in a foreign country, and I didn’t know the language. So what did he think, I asked; could he give me a break and cut me some slack? There was silence from his end of the phone. Then all he said was, “Mr. Muir, learn to speak the language.” And that was that.

I was really angry when he said that. I didn’t want to learn to speak that language. Yet, that’s why I was there. I was there with all those Christians as the only Unitarian Universalist. Not only was I going to learn to speak the language, but I would learn how to be a functioning part of that one-tenth of one percent in a sea of orthodoxy. I learned to speak the language and eventually wrote a book about why it’s important. It’s important that we learn to translate, that we can use the word idolatry and understand that it can mean addictions. We can speak the word sin without gasping for air after saying it, and know it means brokenness and alienation. We can speak of salvation and understand that the word means transformation. We can speak about the Kingdom of God and know it means the Beloved Community. When you can separate the words from creed and dogma, the language can have new meaning for us, and we can still use the language of faith.

This is not going to be easy to do. Not only will it be hard, but those who listen to us might also find it hard, and they will ask us questions just as the friends of Unitarian Universalist Philip Simmons asked him when he was writing Learning to Fall. They wondered why he used the language of faith. And he said, as we might: “Because it is with religious language that human beings have most consistently, rigorously, and powerfully explored the harrowing business of rescuing joy from heartbreak.” (xiv)

It’s religious language that has been used to talk about the human condition in depth. Only now, it’s time that religious liberals and freethinkers deepen this language by liberating the language of faith from the tyranny of orthodoxy and fundamentalism. And isn’t this what Unitarian Universalists have been doing for centuries? We have gone about our business by examining the way that Trinitarians reduce the Holy (the Godhead); but Unitarians speak a language not of reductionism and incompleteness, but of unity and harmony, of putting things together and not separating – as in the interdependent web of all life. Universalists speak not of separations between people, but of the love and inclusiveness of God and how no one is denied transformation (except the word salvation was used). As UUs we have tried to separate language from the restrictions of orthodoxy. We need to continue doing this. We need to renew our efforts to speak the language of faith.

One thing I have noticed about our church life is that most of the people who have been coming in the last five years (as we have been growing at around 10 percent per year) — and many of these have been 35 and younger — have no difficulty with faith language, as long as it is not tied to creed or dogma. It’s people of my generation and older, the people who came of age in the 1950s, 60s, 70s, and 80s – or who perhaps grew up in a Unitarian Universalist church and experienced the humanist-theistic debate that eventually gave away the language of faith – we’re often the ones who are stuck and can’t get rid of the baggage of the language barrier. The baggage is so heavy it’s stopped us in our tracks.

We have to move on. We have to engage each other and the community with religious language, and come to terms with what those words mean when they are not attached to creed and dogma. There is power in the language of faith, and we need to talk with each other and we need to talk with other faith communities.

If we expect to grow beyond one-tenth of one percent, if we expect to become a meaningful, viable part of the wider religious world, we must embrace the language of faith. I challenge you to begin doing this, meeting the challenge of faith language; pushing aside the creed and dogma that has so long been attached to religious words. Then begin sharing the language of faith as you describe our gospel of good news, the gospel of Unitarian Universalism.

Source: “Watch Your Language” by Rev. Fredric Muir, who serves the Unitarian Universalist Church of Annapolis, Maryland, preached February 3, 2003.

A number of years ago, Rev. William Sinkford, the President of the Unitarian Universalist Association, made a statement about the lack of religious language in our movement, calling for an exploration into a “language of reverence.” Tucked away on the UUA website is a page of sermons that stemmed from that call, reactions on all spectrums.

This one, by the Rev. Fredric Muir, is particularly thought-provoking. Writing in 2003, Rev. Muir speaks to a continuing issue in our movement — how do we utilize religious language inclusively, without dogma, and without alienating individual theological positions?

Rev. Muir serves the Unitarian Universalist Church of Annapolis, Maryland, and will lead a worship service tomorrow morning before Plenary (business meeting) here at General Assembly. I have broken the sermon into two parts, the second of which will appear tomorrow.

Watch Your Language, part 1

by the Rev. Fredric J. Muir

Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to while we long to make music that will melt the stars.
— Madame Bovary

Language is important. How we understand the words we speak, how others hear the words we speak is very important.

In his essay, “The Speaking and Writing of Words,” Frederick Buechner recalls a vacation trip to Versailles — his first trip there — and how excited he was to see firsthand sights which he had only read about or seen in pictures. What eventually proved hard for him was having no one to share the experience with. Maybe a similar kind of thing has happened to you; I know it’s happened to me. I can think of times when I’ve been watching a movie, or television, or I’ve been to a place that is so unbelievable, and I wish there was someone there to share the event, to listen to my words of excitement or disappointment. I remember the first time I went to the Caribbean and went snorkeling, it was like being in a National Geographic Special. I kept shouting to those around me — whenever we’d return to the surface — “Can you believe this?” I couldn’t imagine doing it alone; it wouldn’t have been the same. Or the first time I went to the Philippines, it was incredible. And everybody around me didn’t speak English: I wanted so much to speak my words of excitement and astonishment. It was similar to what Buechner experienced; it was as though speaking the words to a companion was the only way to make the sights and events a reality; as though the words were performing a “midwifery function,” as he says, “by making what you see to be real.” The language we use, the words we choose to use, are so important. Sometimes we just take it for granted.

(Read on … )

Today, another perspective on the use of religious language in our Unitarian Universalist churches, this time from lay preacher Bruce Arnold, at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, New Bern, North Carolina.

Mr. Arnold argues that avoiding certain aspects of religious language does more harm than good, particularly in a congregation that aims to welcome a greater number of people into their midst. He offers a challenge to his fellowship, to reach deeper into what it means to be a religious community and engage with that depth.

Note: I am always looking for more good material by our lay members, not just ministers or historical figures, but these pieces are hard to find. If you’ve written, or heard, something that you think belongs on this site, please drop me a line!

A Rose by Any Other Name

by Bruce Arnold

Words have power.

They say sticks and stones will break your bones but words can never hurt you. They are wrong about a lot of things. Over and over, my domestic violence patients have said that the bruises heal and the broken bones knit up, but the cruel words last forever.

Words have power.

They say the pen is mightier than the sword. They are right about a lot of things also. During World War II, when Churchill warned Josef Stalin against conflict with the Pope, he replied scornfully “The Pope! How many divisions does he have?” The Soviet Union no longer exists. John Paul II left the papacy stronger than it had been in a century.

Words have power.

Talk about power: In May of 1961, John F. Kennedy gave a stirring speech about putting a man on the moon, at a time when we had not even worked the bugs out of the Atlas rocket. Just over 8 years later, Neil Armstrong fulfilled that promise, with stirring words of his own.

Words have power.

(Read on … )

The past few readings have explored the Unitarian Universalist perspective of the human place in the natural world, particularly in the context of evolutionary science. But what of our understanding of the concept of God, in the light of scientific progress? Indeed, many among our number have dismissed the idea of a deity as irrelevant.

However, evolutionary evangelist Rev. Michael Dowd has a way of bringing the language of faith into a marriage with scientific language in his new book, Thank God for Evolution! He argues that we need not abandon the language of religion as we discover more about the Universe around us, but that the use of metaphor is a valuable insight into the human experience of the Universe. His view of God is much larger than the traditional personal deity described in many faiths relying on what he terms “flat earth” theology, or theology developed when humanity knew the earth was flat and orbited by the sun. Science and religion can exist in a greater harmony, in this view, and enhance each other as we search for meaning in our lives.

The entire book is available as a free download at thankgodforevolution.com, and is very thought-provoking reading.

Experiencing God versus Thinking about God

from Thank God For Evolution!, by Rev. Michael Dowd

“Thinking about God is no substitute for tasting God, and talking about God is no substitute for giving people ways of experiencing God.” — MATTHEW FOX

Our hominid ancestors experienced Reality as divine. For them, Nature was majestic, mysterious, awesome, benevolent, occasionally severe, all-powerful, nourishing, and more. Virtually every human attribute (the bad, as well as the good) was not only mirrored but also magnified in the mysterious forces of the natural world. Our ancestors experienced Reality this way long before words would label the experience—indeed, before there were verbalized beliefs of any kind. Most beliefs, rational and irrational, spring from the womb of symbolic language.

(Read on … )

I was approached at church this week by a visitor who had one question: “How would you explain this religion to me in a nutshell?”

I’m ashamed to say that I punted — lucky for me that my minister husband was standing right there and could jump in. I struggle with brevity and yet clarity of language for explaining this faith, as I think many of us do. And so, today I bring us one take on “A Unitarian Universalist Catechism” that I find immensely helpful.

The Rev. Richard S. Gilbert has written many books that have enhanced our theological movement along with his long service to many churches, including the First Unitarian Church of Rochester, New York, where he preached this sermon on October 15, 2000.

While Standing On One Foot: A Unitarian Universalist Catechism

by the Rev. Richard S. Gilbert

There is an old story in the Jewish tradition of the man who asked Rabbi Shamai to teach him Judaism while standing on one foot. Shamai, notoriously impatient, chased the man away. Then he went to Rabbi Hillel and made the same request. While standing on one foot, Rabbi Hillel responded: “Don’t do to others what you wouldn’t have them do to you. That is all the Torah; all the rest is commentary. Now go and learn it.”

That story suggested a similar question: how might we respond if we are asked to define Unitarian Universalism? By the water cooler at work? At a dinner party with neighbors? Or speaking with our Unitarian Universalist friends here at church? What is the essence of our liberal religious faith — and more — how do we articulate it? Succinctly! We are likely to be embarrassed. It is almost as if we had been asked to undress in public.

(Read on … )

Why harp on this question, “What is Unitarian Universalism?”

It seems there is no end to materials that explore the idea of Unitarian Universalist identity. As a faith movement of individuals bound in community without adherence to dogma or doctrine, we struggle with limited human language to express just what it is that draws us together. We try to use reason in all things, even when faced with the ineffable, and therefore we strive to explain the unexplainable.

Personally, I am drawn to these discussions because I feel it is vitally important that we as individuals have the tools to reach out beyond our congregations, to bring our “Good News” out into the world to those who would join us. By exploring ideas and language from many sources, it is my sincere hope to provide a variety of these tools to choose from, so that perhaps, when an individual is asked, “What is your church all about?” they can draw upon language that makes sense to them in order to answer coherently.

So, with these things in mind, today we look again at the report from the Unitarian Universalist Commission on Appraisal published in 2005, “Engaging our Theological Diversity” (very long PDF), as distilled into these twelve statements by the Rev. David Takahashi Morris, co-minister at Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church Unitarian Universalist in Charlottesville, Virginia.

For consideration: As a Unitarian Universalist, how do you identify with these statements? Are there any that do not resonate with you, or any that resonate strongly?

Unitarian Universalist Theological Identity

Adapted by Rev. David Takahashi Morris from Engaging Our Theological Diversity, A Report from the Commission on Appraisal of the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations

Do all diverse Unitarian Universalists stand upon any shared theological ground? Respecting the identity of individual perspective we offer the following statements of who Unitarian Universalists are theologically.

1. We are a grounded faith. We are a faith with roots, however lightly held, that go back two thousand years and more.
2. We are an ecological faith. In the West, the vision of interconnectedness has had an uphill struggle to displace a more hierarchical vision of the nature of the cosmos. We have placed the interdependent web squarely at the center of our shared worldview.

(Read on … )

Approaching prayer as a language of faith in a religion that does not require belief in a god can be a tricky thing. Today’s prayer (PDF) by the Rev. Bill Neely, from his days as the ministerial intern at Unity Church-Unitarian in St. Paul, Minnesota, explores this unknowing.

Rev. Neely now serves Neshoba Unitarian Universalist Church in Cordova, Tennessee.

For consideration: What do you name Holy? What do you consider larger than yourself?

Minister’s Prayer

by Rev. Bill Neely

Let us pray,

What shall we name you today, how shall we call you forth, by what shall we know you?

Are you Love greater than feeling, are you Truth truer than reason? Shall we call you Hope fueling all life, or Source of all beginnings and endings? Are you the gentle Father? Are you the sustaining Mother? Today, will you be our Trusting Companion or our Loving Guide? Shall we name you All? Shall we call you One? Are you all of these? Are you Mystery?

In humility, may our hearts call you whatever they will call you, knowing that all are just fine for now, knowing that while our language may be limited, love is not. With openness and with courage, may we seek to know you, even though we can’t define you, may we experience you, even though your truest nature is a mystery to us.

May you be the seed of unknown origin growing in our hearts and minds, a seed whose creation we do not understand and whose destiny we cannot foretell, but whose growth nonetheless nourishes our minds and refreshes our hearts, regardless of whether we can express it or not. For it is in our moments of greatest joy and greatest sorrow, our times of great fear and great hope, or even when we are accompanying someone close to us as they move through those moments, that we often find ourselves wordless or our language lacking. And yet the experience may be, even with diminished verbosity, abundantly holy.

Let us continue to call you what we will with honesty and humility. And let us know you, in some form, in moments of great joy and great sorrow, and all times in between.

Amen.

Source: Minister’s Prayer (PDF) by the Rev. Bill Neely, while serving as ministerial intern at Unity Church-Unitarian in St. Paul, Minnesota, delivered November 14, 2004. Used with permission.

On this Labor Day, savor the final section of “Images for Our Lives,” the 2003 Berry Street Address by Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas.

Part one can be found here.
Part two can be found here.

“Images for Our Lives”

by Rev. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister, First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Berry Street Essay, 2003, part 3 of 3

I want to talk about another element of our linguistic crisis: that is the language of yearning. It’s not only that, but let’s start there.

Early in my ministry I began to question why people were coming to see me. The problems and issues they brought into my study were posed in psychological terms. I knew that there were enough therapists in town to cover the needs of my whole congregation. “Why were they coming to me?” I asked. Perhaps, I told myself, it was because I was a minister. They didn’t have the language to speak it, but they had the depth to feel it. They needed spiritual counsel.

(Read on … )

Today we continue with Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas, and her fantastic Berry Street Essay from 2003, “Images for Our Lives.” Part one can be found here.

In this segment, Rev. Hallman references two poems — First Lesson, by Philip Booth, and The Rowing Endeth, by Anne Sexton. Because of copyright issues, the poems are not printed in their entirety in the essay, though links to the full texts are provided.

Come back Monday for the conclusion!

“Images for Our Lives”

by Rev. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister, First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Berry Street Essay, 2003, part 2 of 3

I recently spoke to our Adult Sunday School Class in Dallas on the topic “Why I am not a Theist”. They packed the room to hear what I had to say, because of course they thought I was. Why did they think I was a Theist? Because I use the word God. Because I pray in the midst of the worship service. I was embarrassed a bit myself, to find that I had failed to make the distinction that the use of metaphors and poetry and scripture has to do with religious imagination, and not with one theological category or another. We had a lively and productive discussion that day, as I spoke, as I am today, about religious language, and how it communicates the depths of experience, and that it isn’t always what it seems.

I remember years ago, when the Principles and Purposes were being formulated in meetings all across our continent, Peter Fleck, of beloved memory, who was on the committee to synthesize those formulations—Peter Fleck said that he had noticed a curious thing. When he asked individual UUs where they stood theologically, he said, “They would juxtapose two seemingly opposite theological categories together. Like Christian-Humanist, or Agnostic-Christian, or Rational-Mystic refusing to align themselves with one distinct theology.” Peter was puzzled by this.

I now think it was the beginning of our attempts to extricate ourselves from the hard theological boundaries within which we had closed ourselves off from one another and from our experience of religious imagination, and deep reality.

(Read on … )

One could say that how we talk about religious and spiritual ideas is the most important part of how Unitarian Universalist churches minister to the needs of our members. The Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas, delivered this essay to the Ministerial Conference at Berry Street in 2003, somewhat in response to the Unitarian Universalist Association President William Sinkford’s call for a greater “language of reverence” in our churches earlier that year.

This essay is quite lengthy, but very, very worth your while. I have broken it into sections — come back Friday for part two! (If you just can’t wait, the full text is linked at the bottom of this post.)

“Images for Our Lives”

by Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister, First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Berry Street Essay, 2003, part 1 of 3

I want to dedicate this essay to the memory of two men who died the same week in March. The first is Harry Scholefield, who was my mentor and friend and partner in the work of articulating a spiritual practice for religious liberals. The second, perhaps less known by many of you is Hardy Sanders, a layperson in my congregation in Dallas—a more passionate and devoted and generous UU I have not known. These two losses, and what these men stood for, in the midst of so much we have had to bear this year, have weighed heavily on me as I have prepared this essay.

Each one was devoted to our faith. At the same time, Hardy felt that we were frittering away our message with petty diversions. And Harry felt that we, especially we UU ministers, ‘used’ poems and wisdom literature, without having lived them. In many ways their lives and concerns shape what I have to say today.

(Read on … )