LIVING FAITHFULLY:
THE INHERENT WORTH AND DIGNITY OF EVERY PERSON
September 19, 2005 The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
“If Unitarian Universalism were illegal, would there be enough evidence to convict us?” That is the question that the Rev. Scott Alexander poses. Would there be any way for the police to know that we are UUs? He asked the question, I believe, in the context of UU evangelism: Were we letting anyone know about our religion, or would we be safe if it were illegal because we keep it so hidden?
But I want to explore Rev. Alexander’s question from a slightly different angle. I want to ask: If this faith of ours were illegal, would we be suspect by the very way we live our lives? Do we manifest our seven UU Principles plainly enough that non-UUs would know what we are, and would turn us in to the authorities? (I do so love the idea that our religion might actually be subversive! Perhaps there’s another sermon in that!)
Most specifically, today I want to look at how we live the first and second Principles of Unitarian Universalism: the affirmation and promotion of “the inherent worth and dignity of every person,” and out of that, the practice of “justice, equity and compassion in human relations.” If living those two Principles were illegal, would there be enough evidence to convict any of us?
The early Christian Church contended that we are all born tainted with the “original sin” of Adam and Eve, and that we have to prove ourselves worthy enough – through good works and devotion to Christ – to be “saved” and reunited with God. The Protestant Reformation challenged that idea, suggesting that the Church had it backwards: God’s Salvation was always there, and good works would flow naturally when we accepted that Salvation through Christ.
But the Calvinist wing of Protestantism put a new twist to Salvation: Not only were we born sinful, said the Calvinists, but God had already “elected” before the beginning of time who would be granted salvation, and who would be damned to eternal Hell. No amount of faith or acts of goodness could change one’s destination; it was pre-determined. It was a bleak and hopeless view of the human condition, and one to which both the early Universalists and Unitarians strongly objected.
The very name “Universalist” attested to the theology of “universal salvation.” God is Love, said the Universalists; He has unending mercy, and therefore would never condemn any human to eternal damnation. John Murray proclaimed in 18th century America: “All are elected.”
The Unitarians stressed the perfectability of human beings. Rather than our nature being grounded in sin and depravity, the Unitarians insisted that each person had the potential for goodness.
Thomas Starr King, the San Francisco Unitarian minister famous for keeping California in the Union, claimed that the difference between the two faiths was that the Universalists thought that God was too good to condemn humans, while the Unitarians thought that we humans were too good to be condemned by God! But both traditions ended up in the same place – responding to the doctrine of sin and eternal punishment with a doctrine of love and redemption.
Today, we don’t necessarily couch our faith in terms of God’s love, or Salvation, or any of the other theological issues argued about in the earlier days of our movement. Instead, we look to our Principles – particularly those that address how we view human nature – to guide us in our actions.
The “Good News” of Unitarian Universalism today can be found, in part, in those first two Principles that call us to accept everyone as inherently worthy, before we even know anything about them -- as having been born in “original blessing” rather than “original sin.” It calls us to treat everyone, as Jesus supposedly told his followers, as our neighbor. And he defined “neighbor” not as just those we like, but most particularly, those we don’t like – those we’d just as soon have nothing to do with. Today, as the Rev. Stephen Kendrick writes, “our creed is kindness;” simple human kindness.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m quite sure that if the practice of those first two UU Principles were illegal, I’d be able to avoid conviction quite easily. I’m not always terribly kind to those I dislike, and I can be downright nasty about those who I think have harmed me or harmed those I care about. And these days, even cockroaches fare better in my estimation than certain government leaders; at least I can spray for cockroaches!
But if I’m to live faithfully; if I’m to live in accordance with my Unitarian Universalist values, then am I not compelled to open my heart to everyone – to see, as the Rev. Barbara Wells suggests, “our common humanity, our common worth, and even our common ability to mess up?”
Our first UU Principle is, ultimately, about Love –the most radical kind of love – celebrated by every major religion of the world, which challenges us to seek relationship and connection rather than separation and discord. If I am to live my faith, do I not have to constantly try to open my heart – to embrace in love and compassion – even those who have closed their heart to me; even those whom I fear?
When we began our Small Group Ministries here at Emerson, I was asked several times why people couldn’t choose the group they’d join; why they had to take their chance with me assigning them to a group. “What if you put me in one with a facilitator I don’t like, or with other participants who I can’t stand? Oh God,” they might even add, “please don’t put me in a group with So-and-So!”
I would smile, and tell them that I’d try to accommodate their needs, but that the first guideline would be their schedules, and then trying to create a balance in each group of ages, gender, length of time at Emerson, etc. “Besides,” I’d tell them, “the role of the church isn’t to encourage our separation from one another, but to help each of us learn to get along together. Wouldn’t it be wonderful,” I’d ask, “if in your small group, you learned something about that person that could break down the wall between you both?”
I must admit that no one responded to this with great eagerness; no one said, “Oh thank-you Rev. Anne, for opening my eyes! Yes, do put me in the group with So-&-So!” Not a one! And I don’t blame them; I really know about not wanting to get along with everyone! Still, I believe that if we are going to live true to our faith, we must be willing to “accept one another,” to discern the “inherent worth and dignity of every person,” and to then treat them with fairness and compassion. But those are not easy Principles to fully incarnate.
Today is the 4th day of the Days of Awe – the period between the Jewish High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It marks the new year in the Jewish tradition – and rather than simply taking one day to make a list of new resolutions for the coming year, Jews are called to reflect for ten days on their deeds and misdeeds of the past year. How have they treated their fellow human beings? How have they treated their family, their friends and co-workers, and especially, how have they treated the stranger among them – particularly the stranger who is poor or oppressed.
And unlike Gershon in our children’s story this morning, Jews are expected to do more than merely acknowledge their sins and throw them in the ocean; they are to take the next step and ask forgiveness for those sins – not just from God, but from the very people they have hurt. And of course, they are to also grant forgiveness to those who have harmed them. They are to experience a real teshuva – a turning – in their attitude, so that true reconciliation can occur. The ten days end with Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement – when, if they have undertaken their reflection with seriousness and honesty, they will find themselves once more “at one” with their God. But perhaps just as important, they will find themselves also “at one” with themselves, and hopefully with all others with whom they are in relationship.
This practice seems to me to imply “the inherent worth and dignity of every person,” and to call for “justice, equity and compassion in human relations,” for how else can we ask forgiveness for ourselves, or grant forgiveness to others, unless we assume that we and they are inherently worthy of such forgiveness? And once we understand that, doesn’t it follow that we would treat them with fairness and compassion? We are able to open our heart to another only when we are able to see our shared humanity – and even our shared Divinity.
Emerson wrote, “I am part and parcel of God.” He did not mean that only he was part of God, or he and his other Transcendentalist friends, or he and others who roamed the streets of Beacon Hill in Boston. He meant that if he was part of God, so was every other human on the earth; and that meant that he was connected to each and every one of them.
Mother Teresa went a step further in naming the Divine in everyone when she said, “Never forget that your most bitter enemy may be God in clever disguise, testing your ability to forgive.” And so we are brought back to that nagging thought that even our “most bitter enemy” might be the manifestation of the Eternal – the Holiest of Holies –the Spirit of Life and Love; even our “most bitter enemy” may have “inherent worth and dignity,” and need our open heart.
A while back I told you the story of the monastery that had lost its sense of purpose, and no longer could attract new monks to join it. The Abbot consulted one day with a nearby rabbi who was known for his wisdom and clear thinking. But in the end, all that the rabbi could tell the Abbot was that one of the monks was the Messiah. This information led each of the monks to begin reflecting on which one among them could possibly be the Messiah; they even had to wonder if they, themselves, might be the Holy One. And the result of this reflection was that the monks began treating one another with more respect, realizing that each one of them might, indeed, be the Messiah. And of course, this imbued them with a new sense of purpose, which radiated out to the wider region, and before long they were once again a thriving monastery.
How might our lives be different if we were to treat each person we know – even those who have hurt us – as if they were the Messiah? Are there persons in your life – perhaps even in this church – whose “inherent worth and dignity” you have ignored? What would it take for you to open your heart to them? And how would that change you and them?
How would our lives be different if we saw every human being as a manifestation of God – of the Holiest of Holies, the Spirit of Life and Love? Could we any longer turn our eyes away from the poor of our cities, the disenfranchised of the world, the lives destroyed by war and tyranny? Could we forget that our comforts often depend on the discomforts of people we’ll never meet? Could we ignore those locked away in prisons, mental hospitals or refugee camps? Or would we rise up and demand an end to injustice and war? Would we join with others and insist that all people on this earth be treated as the sons and daughters of the Divine – no more and no less. Would we risk our own discomfort so that the “inherent worth and dignity of every person” could shine?
But perhaps the most difficult question of all is: What would happen if we were able to see every human – even those we name as enemies of humanity: the terrorists, the tyrants, the abusers of children – as sons and daughters of the Divine? What if we were able to know, on the deepest level, that they were born with worth and dignity; that the Breath of the Eternal flows through them as well as us, but that somehow, they lost touch with that Truth?
Would it mean we’d have to forgive their horrendous acts? I don’t think so; I certainly wouldn’t presume to suggest that to the victims of the holocausts of the world.
But I do suspect that the path to true spiritual health and wholeness involves the ability to know, on the deepest level, the fundamental worthiness – the inherent holiness – of every person born into this world. That person, for whatever reason, may grow up to commit terrible, unforgivable acts; but they didn’t begin life with that in mind. Is it not possible that our first UU Principle requires us to try to understand what went wrong, and to remember that somewhere in that being, the spark of God still flickers?
What if our Unitarian Universalist Principles were illegal? Would there be any evidence to convict any of us of practicing them? I think so, for I have seen those Principles living through many of you. But they are not always easy to live – nor were they meant to be, especially when applied to the most difficult and painful situations of life.
That’s why we come together as a religious community – to wrestle with our deepest questions and conflicts, to companion one another as we walk the path of radical love. Together, we learn teshuva; together, we heal ourselves so we can begin to heal the world. In this do we covenant. In this do we rejoice.
Amen.
© 2004 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
