Reading:
At a worship service for UU ministers, the Rev. Jon Luopo, the
minister of the University Unitarian Church of Seattle, told this story:
It seems that in Seattle the interfaith clergy organization has a tradition of asking senior colleagues to share their life odysseys. On this particular occasion, a Roman Catholic Priest was telling his story, and he said that his life had been in large measure a failure. He remembered the heady days of Vatican II and how hopeful he and his generation of liberal priests had been that real change was coming to the church he loved so dearly. And yet, these many years later he felt that the church had if anything become hardened and deeply conservative, and his dreams had not been realized.
Now, this priest was someone who was valued among his interfaith colleagues, and they were somewhat hurt and stunned by his revelation. And yet, one colleague noted, despite the severity of his words, his demeanor seemed quite peaceful and content. “How can you claim that your life was a failure, and yet appear so calm and serene?” “I know whose I am.” replied the priest. “I know whose I am.” (Whose Are We Facilitator Program, p.4)
Some of you may have thought the title of this sermon was a typo. Whose Are We? “Didn’t you mean Who Are We?” But no, it’s not a typo, and all will be made clear shortly.
This is another one of those sermons where I tell you about what the UUA and my fellow ministers are doing, and then tell you why I either agree, disagree or really disagree.
Originally the “Whose Are We?” workshop, and its 31 page instruction manual, was intended only for UU ministers at their Chapter meetings around the country, such as the one I attend with other Clara Barton District ministers when I am able. But I cannot imagine why this discussion would not be just as valuable for entire congregations. We are, after all, as we have talked about often, all ministers in one way or another. The question, “Whose Are We?” is a valuable theological question.
The story I read to you about the priest was the original catalyst that got a group of UU ministers thinking about the question, Whose Are We? They realized that there are many directions this question can be unpacked.
To begin with Whose Are We? first must be reduced to Whose Am I? Then the answer to the We question may be different depending on which group you are talking about.
Victoria Safford asked her congregation “Who is it that tells you who you are?” (from the Whose Are We manual) Is it first your parents? Then you begin to discover your autonomy and independent nature? Then we become adults and discover how very complicated it is to unravel our own identity. Sometimes an identity gets put on us that is not us. It can be very unfair.
The Rev. Thom Belote asked his congregation “Who tells you who you are with a message that is a lie, with a message that is not true? And, who speaks the truth, the pure and honest truth, about who you truly are?” Can the only absolutely true answer to the question of who am I come only from inside ourselves. There may be part of the real “I” that we never reveal, beyond perhaps our nightmares. You know what I mean, I am sure.
But Whose Am I or Whose Are We are different questions than Who Am I. Whose implies a possessive, at first glance. There could be other ways to see it.
“Douglas Steere, a Quaker teacher, tells us that the ancient question, “Who am I?” inevitably leads to a deeper one, “Whose am I?” – because there is no identity outside of relationship. You can’t be a person by yourself. To ask “Whose am I?” is to extend the question far beyond the little self-absorbed self, and wonder, Who needs you? Who loves you? To whom are you accountable? To whom do you answer? Whose life is altered by your choices? With whose life, whose lives, is your own all bound up, inextricably, in obvious or invisible ways” (a quote from a Victoria Safford sermon, in a sermon by Thom Belote)
When I think of the question Whose Am I? I first think of the Universe. I am a child of the Universe. Then I think of my family. I am of the generations of ancestors who have come before me – some with genes, some with philosophies, some with choices they made that changed history – at least for me. I am, also, of the larger human family. I am of the changes that evolution has brought to the human brain. Including the capacity to care for each other as we do. Whose am I? I am the captive of my human brain – and the part of that brain we call our human heart. I am grateful for that part.
Then I think of you, my congregation. For as a called minister, I do this work for you, not because I am required to as in a job, but because it is my calling to be a minister and to be of use to “my” people. That’s you.
I think also of all people. Whose Am I? I am the people’s. I feel a responsibility to all people, above and beyond, necessarily, but not more importantly than, all of you.
About the priest in our earlier reading.. Do you think we are to assume that when he said “I know whose I am” he was referring to God? To the kind of God we think he meant? The all powerful and all knowing kind of God? His life had been unsatisfactory and disappointing in terms of his ministry. Did his “I know whose I am” mean that he felt absolved of his failures? Did it mean he, along the way, felt no responsibility, no conscience to do better, try harder? Did being of God and knowing, in his beliefs, that he would have a better life in the hereafter, have an effect on the morals and ethics by which he led his life in the here and now? Was his God one who said “There, there, it’s all right.” Do I find this possibility disappointing? Yes.
Or did the priest’s “I know whose I am” mean that despite his failures, he knew he had tried and that was all he could do, all anyone could do, and that in the end we must forgive ourselves for the insufficiencies of this “being human.” His God would do that. Do I find this possible meaning to his words satisfying and helpful? Yes.
Or what if he meant a different kind of God, like the creative force of the Universe God, or the ultimate in positive interconnectivity God? “I know whose I am.” Those, too, would make sense of the story in a more positive way, at least for me.
Thus ends the little stream of consciousness part of my sermon. Thank you for listening.
There are some deep places we can go in this unpacking of a single story of a single person, who went by the title of Priest. I, too, am a single person, who goes by the title of Minister. Whose Am I?
Sarah Lammert, one of the originators of the Whose Are We? project, writes “If we ignore the transcendent, never pausing long enough to fill the cup of our being we do damage to ourselves as whole human beings.” (Whose Are We? manual) Is Sarah saying we should not ignore God? Or is she saying we should not ignore that which is beyond us, for it is only by understanding ourselves as part of the larger, infinitely larger, web, can we become closer to knowing “Whose We Are.” I admit to at first being annoyed by Sarah’s words, thinking she was saying we need to believe in God, but my more open mind can see her words in another light.
However, it is explicitly written in the manual for the Whose Are We? project that one of the goals is that “UU clergy will become more comfortable and articulate about the theological language and spiritual aspects of Unitarian Universalism, and share this with their congregations through their preaching and their teaching.” This does sound like a call for God language, I am afraid.
I will say it again. I firmly believe that one can be religious, theological, spiritual, a minister, without using traditionally religious language. And I offer myself as evidence. My hackles are raised when I find my own Minister’s Association pushing me in a direction in which I not only don’t want to go, but don’t think I need to go. If you are my maverick congregation, then I am your maverick minister.
So, back to Whose Are We? It is a good question to ask ourselves, on both the individual level, but also on the congregational and institutional levels, as well. And on the Ministerial level, too.
Whose Are We as ministers? Our friend, Leo Hourihan, told me that when he was a part of a more conservative Christian tradition he was explicitly told “It’s not you creating your sermons. It’s the wisdom of the texts that is your author.”
In other words, it’s the word of God, written in the Biblical text, coming through you, as a minister.
As Unitarian Universalists we believe differently. Yes, we believe there is wisdom to be found in the texts, all the texts, of many kinds including poetry and song, but also that there is wisdom to be found in our own consciences and experiences. Our authority, what we hold as able to help us to know how to live our lives, comes primarily through our individual and collective experientially formed human wisdom, from whatever source we find it. I’m just here helping us all to find that wisdom.
Whose Are We? I believe we are each others’. In joining this Society, and even in attending as a Friend, there is an implicit covenant (promise) we make to each other about how we intend to “be” together. Alice Blair Wesley, a retired UU minister whose opinions I practically idolize, writes of how this covenantal congregational relationship came to us.
The Pilgrims ought to be especially important to American Unitarian Universalists. They are our spiritual ancestors. We misapprehend our own identity and miss out on a great richness if we do not understand our derivation from their extraordinary spirit. I believe we could much diminish the fruitless and sterile individualism among us and instead foster together far richer varieties of authentic individuality in community if we should, through the seventeenth-century Pilgrims, set about reclaiming, for today, a fresh, dynamic commitment to the spirit of the covenant of the free church…
The center of the free church, the heart of the whole thing, is a promise of fidelity, a covenant, which each member freely makes upon joining. Actually also, each member begins again with, or renews or renegotiates, his or her promise many times in the course of the life of the church, in the privacy of renewed conscience or spiritual growth. Too often our promise, or covenant, is implicit, not consciously explicit. But it doesn’t really matter whether it is verbalized. It matters whether it is faithfully meant.
Alice Blair Wesley in Redeeming Time, Walter P. Herz, ed. p. 3
Alice has composed an adaptation of the original covenant of the Pilgrims, written especially for contemporary Unitarian Universalists. It speaks explicitly to the question of Whose Are We, in a community such as ours. (from Theology Ablaze by Tom Owen-Towle, p. 49) This is an adaptation of what the Pilgrims wrote before they even got off the boat.
“We pledge to walk together in the ways of truth and affection, as best we know them now or may learn them in days to come that we and our children may be fulfilled and that we may speak to the world in words and actions of peace and goodwill.”
Whose Are We? We are children of the Universe. Debbi Friedlander reminded me of an African word, ubuntu, which means “I am who I am because of who we are.” As the Pilgrims, we are on the boat of life, ever approaching the future. We are each others in a relationship that promises the best we are and can be.
We are each others’ in another affirmation we often say together, which I have adapted:
Love is the doctrine of this church,
The quest of truth is its
sacrament,
And service is its prayer.
To dwell together in peace,
To seek knowledge in freedom,
To serve human need,
to the end that all souls shall
grow into harmony with each other
and our earthly home.
Thus do we covenant, together.
Whose Are We? We are each others’.
May it be so.