Friday, 27 January 2012

The Company of Others

At a recent Service we considered the importance of coming together as a community.  Recognising our differences, accepting the diversity of our views, and welcoming the opportunity to strengthen ourselves through open acceptance and exploration of another's ideas.  The following is the text.  With apologies, there is no MP3 download to accompany the Sermon this time.

 
I would like to repeat the opening line of our second reading.

See, how good and pleasant it is, when pilgrims dwell together as one.

The translated words of a psalmist from perhaps 3000 years ago.  Maybe longer. 

See, how good and pleasant it is, when pilgrims dwell together as one.

I’m not sure the age of these words is of any significance whatsoever, other than to signal the universal and everlasting nature of their sentiment.  For it is ‘very good and pleasant’, when kindred, strangers, neighbours, former foes, brothers and sisters, can live together in unity.

The writer of psalm 133, the psalmist in fact, brings some wonderful descriptions in his work.  He talks of the precious unity of people as being like the ointment that runs down the body.  This refers to the use of aromatic oils that have been used in the Middle East for centuries for hair and skin care.  A sweet-smelling soothing and refreshing oil.[1]  This was also used in religious services as a way of anointing Jewish priests – the oil representing the smooth and soothing effect of God’s holy power.[2]  The writer refers also to the dew of Hermon – a phenomenon on Mount Hermon where very heavy dew forms and runs down to the parched valley below, bringing nourishment and refreshment to new life.

The wonder and beauty of a unified community.

A call, surely, that must accompany all religious quests. 

We gather here in this Meeting House, as part of a community of fellow travellers on our spiritual paths.  As Unitarians, we are comfortable with the notion that each of us is one a separate path, a path of our own choices and choosing.  Yet we meet together in community for the love, support and encouragement we all need, deep inside us, to help us along our paths.

Some of you will be aware of Earl Morse Wilbur’s three-word summary of Unitarian values: Freedom, Reason and Tolerance.  It is the latter, Tolerance, that best describes our hopes for unity and understanding – but I wonder if Tolerance alone remains a sufficient description of the underlying need in this area.

Wilbur coined his summary around 100 years ago.  And as a religion or denomination that prides itself on evolution and continual renewal and progression, I wonder whether we might need to update this. 

For me, tolerance suggests a grudging acceptance.  If I tolerate something, it is often with which I am ‘putting up with’, ‘despite everything.’


Over Christmas, there was some discussion on the UK Unitarians Facebook page on how Unitarianism might be described in one word.  There were a number of suggestions.  But the one that caught my eye was ‘inclusive’.

And I liked that.  As Unitarians we strive to be ‘inclusive’.

All are welcome here.

But why?  What purpose is there in being welcoming to all?  Isn’t it a bit of a burden to do so?

All good questions.



In his book ‘What’s the Point of Being a Christian’, Timothy Radcliffe, a Dominican Friar, talk of the importance to the Dominicans of thinking in the plural.  These are his words:

When I joined the Order I learnt to say ‘we Dominicans’.  I can say that we arrived in Oxford in 1221 even though I was not born until several centuries later.  I can also say we are founding a university in Ethiopia, even though not one English Dominican is involved.  Being a member of this community may sometimes demand that the story that I tell of myself will not evolve as I hoped and anticipated.  [However,] this is what is means for me to accept that I am one of the brethren”[3]
 

I suspect this is one of the great calls and holds for friars and members of other religious communities.  It is an identity, a way of placing ourselves in the world.

I wonder if this community approach, a formal and everlasting ‘We Dominicans’ could just as easily be read as ‘We Unitarians’. 


‘We Unitarians’ are, I hope, indeed believe,  a wonderfully inclusive community.  We welcome people from different spiritual paths.  ‘We Unitarians’ welcome people regardless of sexuality, race, or social background.  We welcome all.

‘We Unitarians’ have been around for around 400 years.  ‘We Unitarians’ believe in Reason, Freedom and Tolerance’
 
‘We Unitarians’ like coffee and biscuits.

Ah.  Stop right there. 

‘I don’t’.  Will be a voice now being heard.  Some of us don’t like coffee.  And some don’t like biscuits.


‘We Unitarians’ are always open to new ideas.


‘We Unitarians’ prefer the Green Hymn Book to the Purple Hymn Book. 

Ah, another point of difference.


And so it could go on.

Now, so far, the areas on which we differ, in my list, have been, I suggest fairly trivial.  ‘We Unitarians’ agree on some weighty things, but there will always be differences on some less important things.

And that is really important to acknowledge. 

But, does this mean that simple ‘toleration’ will be sufficient.  Let’s think a little further around that.

I’ll take the hymn book example – never has there been a religious movement so willing to divide itself over hymnbooks.  Some Unitarian congregations define themselves by the hymnbooks they use.  Other ones, obviously. Not us.

Or should I be saying – ‘We Unitarians are happy to identify our differences through the medium of hymnbooks’.  I hope not.

Anyway, back to the books.

The first congregation I was involved with, my first Unitarian community, used two hymn books.  The Red One, and the Green One.  The Red One – Hymns of Faith and Freedom.  And the Green One - Hymns for Living.  For those that are unaware of the Red Book – we don’t have any here.

A little history for those that are unaware:

The Green Book was first published in 1987 and was for, I quote: ‘those who seek in their worship to blend with the traditional, contemporary concerns expressed in a modern idiom’.  A member of this congregation, the former Minister Gabor Kereki was one of the team that compiled it.  It was, in short, an attempt to produce a ‘modern’ hymn book that was not as ‘churchy’ as previous ones.

In most churches the Green Book replaced ‘Hymns of Worship’, which was originally published in 1927, but revised in 1962.  It was very ‘traditional’.

As soon as the Green Book emerged, the splits began.  It was too modern, it didn’t contain old favourites. In some hymns the words had been changed.  Dreadful Book.  Of course, others welcomed it with open arms.

But, such was the opposition in some quarters, the Red Book was produced.  A self-declared revision of ‘Hymns of Worship’, it contains almost twice as many hymns as ‘Hymns for Living’, and was far more liberal Christian in its outlook.

And for many years, you could – I suggest wrongly – attempt to assess and judge each congregation on the Hymn Book it used.

So, modernists Green.  Traditionalist, Red.


Now let’s fast forward to 2009.  Here comes the Purple Book.  In its preface, it claims –

“[existing books] have served the denomination well and will continue to do so.  However, much new material has become available in recent years which needs to be made available for contemporary Unitarian worship.”


A lot of people I speak to are firmly divided on the Purple Book.  Perhaps you are.  Many think it is too modern, it doesn’t contain old favourites. In some hymns the words had been changed.  Dreadful Book.  Of course, others welcomed it with open arms.
  
So, modernists Purple.  Traditionalist, Green.


The hidden story in these debates is of course is how the Green Book has become the book loved by the traditionalists.  Possibly, the same people that complained about it when it first arrived.
  
And what does that tell us?  I wonder whether it might in some small way demonstrate the value of opening ourselves to others’ ideas and thoughts.  It warns us of the dangers and missed opportunities if we are unwilling to look and listen to others.   


Tolerance, allowing someone else to express their views, is often seen as the right thing to do, because, in the words of the Golden Rule – ‘do unto others as you would have done unto you’.  So, be nice to people, because it’s a morally right thing to do.

That’s quite right and good.

Yet, I wonder whether there is more to this.  Can we gain a spiritual depth from our inclusive welcome to new people, new ideas, new light on old ideas?

I suspect we can.

Are we not building a community of trust when we do this?  Trust in each other and ourselves.

In our second reading, the psalmist reminds us that the unity of pilgrims, the unity of brothers and sisters, is like a soothing balm.  The very notion of unity and trust, of togetherness and support, can reduce tension and bring a sense of calm.  The aromatic oils are poured on troubled waters.  A sense of ease and tranquillity.

And such a sense will undoubtedly support our own individual spiritual journeys and explorations.  A sense of community, trust, ‘joined-up ness’ must nourish our souls.

In our separate spiritual explorations – our journey to God, to that ineffable something, however you might understand or experience the Divine, our sense of purpose will be all that more focussed if we are held in the loving support of our neighbours and friends.

It is perhaps this sense of understanding, this sense of trust, this sense of safety that Timothy Radcliffe is speaking of when he talks of ‘We Dominicans’.  This isn’t to say that religion can’t be risky, that our journeys themselves will always be smooth.  Rather it is a hope that we can provide a place of trusting safety for each of us.  Long-term Unitarians, recent visitors, those who are here for the very first time.  If we cannot provide a safe refuge – and if we cannot trust others to provide a safe refuge for us – then we are failing in our commitment to one another.

We value diversity.  It is through our diversity and our differences that our true strength comes.  It is by sharing and celebrating life’s high points together that we can share and multiply joys and happiness.  It is by sharing and supporting each other through our difficulties that we can ease one another’s burdens.

‘We Unitarians’ would be a pretty dull community if we were all the same.  And the chances of learning, developing, evolving and growing would be pretty hopeless.

No, our strength lies in the way we are able to work together with each other, and for each other.  The way in which we can bring new ideas and new experiences to our community.  And how we can learn from the new ideas and new experiences of others.

We are feeding each other with those long-handled spoons of heaven.  Nourishing one another by trusting our neighbours.

See how good, what pleasure comes, when people live as one.


[1] Kraus, H-J (1993) Psalms 60-150, A Continental Commentary, Fortress Press, Minneapolis
[2] Eaton, D (2003) The Psalms, Continuum, New York
[3] Radcliffe, T. (2005) What is the Point of Being a Christian, Burns & Oates, London.

Friday, 6 January 2012

And He Was Called Jesus

MP3 (Click Here)
 
New Year is a time for new beginnings.  And we often use this time to think about how we might try something new, or how we might ditch something, give-up something, that we already do – but perhaps wish we didn’t.  Smoking, for example.  Or eating too much chocolate. 

A brand New Year is a time for brand new ideas.

However, if we think a little more closely, we might also spot that a New Year is not something brand new.  Still here in Sevenoaks.  It’s another January.  Another Sunday.  And we’ve certainly had weather like this before.  So what is new?

Well, perhaps the newness is also experienced in the idea of seeing something in a new light.  Or returning to something we thought had gone, and experiencing it in a new way.

We’ve all been through January before.  But this is a slightly different January for each of us.  So, maybe New Year can also be a time for reassessing.  Revisting something with a fresh eye.

For Unitarians, the figure of Jesus of Nazareth is one that we can, perhaps, sometimes become complacent with - or even begin to ignore, despite his enormous influence in spiritual and religious matters over the centuries.  In our Service this week, we took the opportunity of the New Year to reassess the figure of Jesus, and revisit Jesus with a fresh eye.  

The words of the Sermon are below, or you can download an MP3 recording by clicking the link at the top of this post.

"It has been just one week since Christmas Day.  Two weeks since our wonderful Carols by Candlelight.  And I am sure I am not alone in finding myself revisiting thoughts about Jesus and his significance at this time.  As Unitarians, we are very good at disguising Christmas.  A time of Light.  The Winter Solstice.  The birth of the Sun.

And this is quite right.  This season is the time when people have, for millennia, reflected on the coming of the longer days and the turn of the annual cycle.

And the traditional Christmas stories.  The Virgin Birth, the angels and the shepherds, the Star, the wise men.  All these things are truly memorable.  Indeed, truly magical.  But we know they are not true.  They are part of a long tradition of myth creation and story-telling.  No less powerful or truthful because of it.  But not factually accurate.

And the version of the Christmas story in Luke’s book is probably the most magical.  And all the better for it.

Yet, after all these implausible things have happened, we are brought back down to earth.  From a magical heaven, perhaps, to earth.  With a bump.  Yes, after all these things, we read:

After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.


And, with the angel baby-naming aside, we are reminded this was a human baby.  A little Jewish boy who, as with all little Jewish boys, was circumcised and named within eight days of his birth.  We are reminded that Jesus was a real, flesh and blood, human.

And, no matter which tradition you follow – or even if you don’t follow any Christian tradition – Jesus is human.  For the Trinitarian Christian, Jesus is both human and divine.  Both at the same time.  Fully human, fully divine.  I shan’t go into the theology of that one just now, but worth noting nonetheless that Jesus is viewed as human.  He is recognised as ‘one of us’.

For Unitiarians of course, Jesus has nearly always been considered fully human, and not God.  Very early Unitarian thinkers aside, this has been a common position for a few hundred years.

Jesus of Nazareth. Possibly the most famous, yet the most unknown leader in history.

Why do I say unknown?

Like perhaps no other person in history, we all try to interpret Jesus’ views on life and the world and God, and heaven, and all those things as being remarkably similar to our own views.

Marcus Borg, the Jesus scholar and author of the extract I read as our first reading today puts it well in the opening pages of his book, Jesus: Uncovering the Life, Teachings and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary:

Many followers of Jesus oppose evolution and defend the literal-factual truth of the Bible’s stories of creation.  Yet followers of Jesus were the first to reconcile evolution with the Bible by understanding the Genesis stories symbolically and not literally;

Followers of Jesus are among the strongest supporters of the Western invasion and occupation of Iraq.  Followers of Jesus are among the Western invasion’s strongest critics;

Followers of Jesus are among the strongest opponents of gay marriage.  Followers of Jesus are among its strongest advocates;

Followers of Jesus are among the strongest supporters of an economic and tax policy that benefits especially the wealthy and powerful.  Followers of Jesus are among its most vocal opponents on the biblical grounds that such a policy betrays God’s passion for economic justice for the poor.


And so it goes on.  Different followers of Jesus appear to hold just about any number of conflicting views on how his teachings – or how the teachings have been passed on to us – might be interpreted in the modern world. 

But what do we think.  Or are we able to hold a single opinion or belief.  I doubt it – that’s what I like about Unitarianism. 


However, for a faith that is founded in Biblical Christianity, many modern-day Unitarians don’t seem to like talking about Jesus too much.  This varies of course, from congregation to congregation, and certainly between the north and the south of the country.  But the Jesus element of our faith is often pushed to the back of the cupboard as we polish the exotic myths and stories of other faith traditions.

I wonder why.

It cannot be, surely, that the man Jesus, the human Jesus described in the gospels fails to meet our criteria for a leader worth following?  A man from lowly beginnings who led a life of compassionate resistance to all who would harm him or any others.  A man who loved all.  A man who considered no-one to be below him socially.  A man executed for standing up to the religious and secular authorities.  The rebel with a cause.  A cause with which I certainly find it hard to find fault.  Perhaps we think Jesus is a bad role model?

No.  Didn’t think so.


Or maybe we don’t believe the world still needs leaders like Jesus.  The world is now perfect and there is no need for people to seek to change things for the better.  The time for a message like that of Jesus has gone now. 

Again, no.

Maybe we think that Jesus belongs to the other churches.  The real Christian churches.  The Church of England, the Roman Catholics, the Baptists, the Eastern Orthodox.  The Trinitiarians, not the Unitarians.

Ah, maybe we’re onto something here.

Maybe we don’t like the interpretations put onto the life and death of Jesus by others.  Including some of the Gospel claims – which were often written, or rewritten, many years after Jesus lived.  John’s Gospel, for example, the most theologically challenging Gospel, is thought to have been written perhaps 70 years after the death of Jesus.

So maybe we have passed the baton of following Jesus to others?

I suspect that is exactly what we’ve done.  And I wonder if that is really the best way to preserve the legacy of a great human teacher and leader. 

I doubt it.

We do of course talk of the well-known position of Jesus on some issues.  ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’, ‘Do unto others as you would have done unto you’, ‘love one another’.  Hard to argue.  But, as Marcus Borg challenged in our first reading, is the ‘good teacher’ image enough.  Does it do justice to the true meaning and effect of Jesus of Nazareth?  Is it too shallow?

So what is the true meaning?  What do we really know about Jesus?


Gaza Vermes is possibly the greatest living Jesus scholar.  For Vermes, historical accuracy is vital when looking at the life of Jesus.  There are so many interpretations, theological conclusions, doctrinal considerations and other ‘stuff’ that gets in the way.  Vermes tries to clear these things aside, and focus on the most likely truth.

The following is a précis, from one of his many books, of some key conclusions he has drawn about the known life of Jesus:

 - The existence of Jesus is not debatable.  He was crucified under Pontius Pilate, Roman Governor of Judea between 26 and 36 CE, and was most probably born shortly before the death of Herod the Great in 4 BCE.  Quasi-certainty stops here.  To the questions what sort of man Jesus was, what he stood for, what he thought of God and man, what he aimed at achieving during his short career, there are no definite answers.

 - The primary culprit is Jesus himself.  Everything would be so much easier if he put his thoughts on paper.  But, as he wrote nothing, we have to rely on second-hand reporting.

 - Most of our knowledge about Jesus comes from the New Testament, a collection of writings dating from 25 to 90 years after his death.  None of them are historical pieces.  Although there is one separate, short account by the Jewish historian Josephus.

 - As bad luck would have it, the earliest documents, the letters of Paul, are of no historical use at all in this context.  Paul never met Jesus, and his knowledge appears to depend entirely on his own mystical vision of Christ as a Universal Saviour.  Paul’s letters are Paul’s own interpretation of Jesus.

 - Our second bad luck is that the Gospel of John – the base of so much Christian doctrine – was composed 90 years after his death and reflects no historical reality.

 - So we are left with three Gospel accounts – those of Mark, Matthew and Luke. The oldest of these, Mark, is the closest to a popular biography, and interestingly contains no nativity nor any visions of a risen Christ.  

 - These biographical accounts talk of an itinerant Galilean charismatic healer and preacher.  Not the first, nor the last.  He was loved by simple people, hated by village lawyers, resented by neighbours, and thought crazy by his relations.

 - His admirers said he was the Messiah.  But in these earlier accounts he never said this about himself – that all came in mystical writing many years later.  But he did appear to consider himself trusted by God to lead his Jewish contemporaries through the gate of repentance to a spiritual promised land.

 - He was not a political Messiah.  If he had been condemned as an enemy of the state, his followers too would have been arrested and probably executed by the state.  But they weren’t.  So why was Jesus executed?  Probably wrong time, wrong action, wrong place.  The potential for rioting in the Temple at Passover would have alarmed priests and Romans alike: Jesus’ turning of the money-changers tables were not well-timed.

 - The real Jesus, or as real as we can deduce, was not meek and mild.  He could be impatient and angry.  He displayed strength, iron character and determination.  He loved children, welcomed women, felt pity for the sick and miserable.  He looked out for the pariahs of Jewish society.


And that’s it really.  Not much to go on is there?  Yet this short biography, coupled with his reported words and deeds, have led millions and millions of people on their spiritual quests. 

And yet Jesus was human.  No magic involved.  An inspirational leader.  Yet concerned with all injustice, no matter how demeaning.

But most of all, Jesus taught of the need to live life in the now.  He didn’t plan a long way ahead.  He had no plan to establish a new Church.  He was a reforming Jew.  A man who saw a need to revitalise the faith of his community.  To bring God back into the everyday, to bring God into every action, and to act compassionately to all.  No matter who they were.  Leper or Centurian.  They were all the same to him.

And perhaps this is the deeper Jesus we might look to better understand and even follow.  The example of a human being, like you and me, a human being that is able to live each day in God. 

Now, for Unitarians, that G word can be tricky.  For some it might be personal, for others the interconnectedness of all people.  Or it may be a notion that really doesn’t work for you.  But however it gets you, this notion of living for others, of living for the sake of compassionate acceptance of all, of living your life for the sake of others.  That, I believe, is what Jesus meant by living every day with God.  To create a heaven here on earth.  Now.

New Year is a time to think about new ideas.  And a time to think about old ideas in a new light.  The example of Jesus might give us food for thought on renewing ourselves.  Taking the opportunity of the repeating cycle of the seasons to refresh our outlook on the world.  And to live life with renewed meaning and vigour."

Happy New Year.