The struggle between individualism and communalism is a common one in many religions, but Unitarian Universalism has a unique position, being without a central creed for the community to fall back upon in times of disagreement. However, we are able to find common ground in our values, our ideals, and our belief that Unitarian Universalism has a saving message that the world needs to hear.

In this short excerpt from his 2006 book, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream, Senator and presidential candidate Barack Obama articulates the tension that exists between balancing these two ideals, the good of the individual and the good of the community, on a national and cultural level. I find that his words aptly describe the challenges in our church communities as well, particularly churches that are going through times of transition and change.

Senator Obama is not a Unitarian Universalist; he belongs to our sister-denomination, the United Church of Christ, whose core ideals are very much in line with our own.

from The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream

by Senator Barack Obama

At its most elemental level, we understand our liberty in a negative sense. As a general rule we believe in the right to be left alone, and are suspicious of those–whether Big Brother or nosy neighbors–who want to meddle in our business. But we understand our liberty in a more positive sense as well, in the idea of opportunity and the subsidiary values that help realize opportunity–all those homespun virtues that Benjamin Franklin first popularized in Poor Richard’s Alamanack and that have continued to inspire our allegiance through successive generations. The values of self-reliance and self-improvement and risk-taking. The values of drive, discipline, temperance, and hard work. The values of thrift and personal responsibility.

These values are rooted in a basic optimism about life and a faith in free will–a confidence that through pluck and sweat and smarts, each of us can rise above the circumstances of our birth. But these values also express a broader confidence that so long as individual men and women are free to pursue their own interests, society as a whole will prosper. Our system of self-government and our free-market economy depend on the majority of individual Americans adhering to these values. The legitimacy of our government and our economy depend on the degree to which these values are rewarded, which is why the values of equal opportunity and nondiscrimination complement rather than impinge on our liberty.

If we Americans are individualistic at heart, if we instinctively chafe against a past of tribal allegiances, traditions, customs, and castes, it would be a mistake to assume that this is all we are. Our individualism has always been bound by a set of communal values, the glue upon which every healthy society depends. We value the imperatives of family and the cross-generational obligations that family implies. We value community, the neighborliness that expresses itself through raising the barn or coaching the soccer team. We value patriotism and the obligations of citizenship, a sense of duty and sacrifice on behalf of our nation. We value a faith in something bigger than ourselves, whether that something expresses itself in formal religion or ethical precepts. And we value the constellation of behaviors that express our mutual regard for one another: honesty, fairness, humility, kindness, courtesy, and compassion.

Source: from Chapter 2 of The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream by Senator and presidential candidate Barack Obama.

Democracy is one of the core values of Unitarian Universalism, embodied in our fifth Principle: Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large. Since today is the day that citizens of 22 states exercise their right to vote in the Presidential Primary elections, I bring you an essay printed in the January issue of Quest, the newsletter of the Church of the Larger Fellowship, written by the Rev. David E. Bumbaugh, Professor of Ministry at Meadville Lombard Theological School and Minister Emeritus of the Unitarian Church in Summit, New Jersey. Rev. Bumbaugh recalls his experience with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that helped him to realize that “we are not required to succeed, or even to be right; we are required to serve the truth as we understand it.”

Enjoy, and don’t forget to vote.

Cherish the Dream

by Rev. David E. Bumbaugh

I suppose that every American of my generation has a “how Dr. King shaped my life” story. Here is mine. I had graduated from seminary in 1964 with a clear idea of the focus and shape my ministry would take. I spent my time reading and reflecting, and crafting sermons which shared the result of that effort with my congregation. Inevitably, in those times, much of my reflection focused on the enormous social issues which confronted the nation— racism, war, poverty. I regarded it as my job to enlarge their sense of responsibility and compassion as people experienced deep and disturbing challenges and changes. But in no sense could I have been considered an activist. Indeed, one of my colleagues, only half kidding, suggested that I was running a spiritual filling station— rounding people up once a week, pumping them full of the holy gas and then, tires and fluid levels checked, sending them out to confront the world, while I stayed home and kept the restrooms clean.

Then came the day that Martin Luther King sent out his invitation to the clergy to come to Selma, Alabama, to help with the drive for voting rights. Now, I knew about the invitation, but I did not for a moment believe he meant me. I had grown up in a community in which we had been carefully taught to avoid attracting attention to ourselves. We had been taught that even when the sign on the door said, “welcome” or “enter,” it probably did not mean us. It never occurred to me that an invitation to the clergy to come to Selma meant me, too. I did not go.

(Read on … )