Born Again Unitarian Universalis

Born Again Unitarian Universalism

April 16, 2006

The Rev. Penny Rather

The Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Laramie

Reading:

from a letter written by the English author, D. H. Lawrence to a

Congregational minister, in which he attempts to clarify his views on conversion

“I believe that one is converted when first one hears the low, vast murmur of life, of human life, troubling one’s hitherto unconscious self. I believe one is born first unto oneself - for the happy developing of oneself, while the world is a nursery, and the pretty things are to be snatched for, and the pleasant things tasted; some people seem to exist thus right to the end. But most are born again on entering maturity; then they are born to humanity, to a consciousness of all the laughing, and the never-ceasing murmur of pain and sorrow that comes from the terrible multitude of brothers [and sisters]. Then, it appears to me, one gradually formulates one’s religion, be it what it may. A person has no religion who has not slowly and painfully gathered one together, adding to it, shaping it; and one’s religion is never complete and final, it seems, but must always be undergoing modification.”

Sermon:

As a chaplain at University of Colorado Hospital a few years ago, I faced many challenges in ministering to people whose faith was very different from mine. The role of an interfaith chaplain is to help people in crisis find strength in their faith, not the chaplain’s. And sometimes, when a person dismisses the chaplain, saying something like, “I’m not religious” or “I don’t believe in God,” the chaplain’s job is to assure her that that is perfectly all right; that the chaplain is still interested in helping her discover what does give her strength.

Come to think of it, this is not very different from being a minister in a Unitarian Universalist congregation.

Over the course of a year at the hospital, I became adept at facilitating Christian prayers and performing Christian sacraments, such as baptism, communion, and last rites. I had occasion to participate in Native American rituals and to pray with patients in Hebrew and Arabic. I helped atheists discover and articulate what was in their hearts. It was a blessing to witness and share in people’s devotion to a variety of religious traditions.

As an interfaith chaplain, my religious identification as a Buddhist Unitarian Universalist gave me strength, of course, and informed how I related to the suffering I encountered every day. But it was rarely evident to other staff or to patients or their family members. Usually, when someone did ask me what my religion was, they were satisfied with the standard answer. “I am an interfaith chaplain. I’m here to help you find comfort in your religion. Tell me about how you find strength in your faith.”

So I was not prepared when a patient greeted my entrance into his room with an immediate and booming, “Have you been saved?” I wasn’t sure I had heard him accurately, so I said, “Excuse me?” “Have you been saved?” he repeated. “Have you been born again?”

I remember wondering nervously if he was going to try to save me, or dismiss me and demand a proper “born again” chaplain. As it turned out, I never had to answer his question. I asked him what being “born again” meant to him, and he told me it was a huge relief and comfort to him as he faced a life threatening surgery. We had a rich and wonderful conversation about his faith and his fears. And we ended by praying together for a successful surgery, for his family, for all of the patients in the hospital, and – at his instigation – for world peace.

This patient’s surgery was a success, and when I visited him during his recovery, he attributed that to his prayers being answered. Unfortunately, to date, at least, his prayer for world peace has not.

This patient’s question got me wondering, though, how I would answer that question if it were put to me again. Because, you see, I feel like I have been born again – and again – and again – and again. But to just say, “Yes” would be misleading. To say “No” would be off-putting. And to explain what that means to me would be confusing and inappropriate.

I never did have to answer that question as a chaplain. But at this time of year, when Spring is bringing new life to the earth and when Christians are celebrating Easter as the commemoration of Jesus being raised from the dead, it is interesting to explore what we, as Unitarian Universalists, might make of the idea of being born again.

There are two ways that Christians relate to re-birth that have meaning for me as a Unitarian Universalist. The first has to do with Easter – the holiest of Christian Feast Days that is celebrated today in the Western churches. You are probably familiar with the basic Easter story: Jesus of Nazareth was put to death on a cross, buried in a tomb, and resurrected from the dead, appearing to his disciples before ascending to live eternally with God in heaven. There are variations among the Gospel accounts of this event, but that’s the basic story line. The belief that follows from Jesus’ resurrection is that human beings can likewise defeat death and be born again to eternal life in heaven.

And Easter is the event that distinguishes Christianity; without the resurrection, Christianity would not have developed the way it did. So the Easter experience is crucial to being a Christian. But there is more than one interpretation of this event. More than one Christian interpretation.

One response to the rise of Christian Fundamentalism, with its insistence on literal interpretation of the Bible, has been a search for the historical truth of the events there reported. Unitarian physician and humanitarian Albert Schweitzer was among the first in the 20^th Century to embark on this academic adventure, publishing The Quest of the Historical Jesus in 1906. That quest gained new momentum with the inception of The Jesus Seminar in 1985. The purpose of this endeavor was summed up in these remarks of its founder, Robert Funk:

We are about to embark on a momentous enterprise. We are going to inquire simply, rigorously after the voice of Jesus, after what he really said. . . .Our basic plan is simple. We intend to examine every fragment of the traditions attached to the name of Jesus in order to determine what he really said—not his literal words, perhaps, but the substance and style of his utterances. We are in quest of his voice, insofar as it can be distinguished from many other voices also preserved in the tradition.

These efforts, and ones like them, have been hugely important in presenting alternative interpretations of Christian Scripture and validating diverse understandings of what it means to be Christian. They have also come under attack for being so concerned with historical truth as to miss the larger, and more elusive, truths that are only pointed to by the facts. One of my favorite Christian theologians, Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong, after disavowing a literal interpretation of the Easter story, puts it this way:

But what really happened? It is not enough to say what did not happen. . . . To dismiss [the] familiar biblical details as legendary does not end our search for the truth of what happened, it only drives us to another level where we ask a different question. What happened that gave birth to the legendary details that gathered around the moment of Easter? . . . What happened that caused people to begin to say of Jesus of Nazareth, with awesome conviction, that “death cannot contain him! We have seen the Lord”? (Resurrection 233-234)

Spong goes on to postulate a theory of the actual events that led to the biblical legends and that point to the larger truth of Jesus resurrection – that the teachings of Jesus, and the experience of him live on beyond his death in the lives of his followers. This is an understanding of being born again that I can embrace as a Unitarian Universalist.

And it is so simple. So simple as to seem trivial, perhaps. But when understood in the context of religious questions of ultimate importance, it is a profoundly religious understanding. There is a story of an Evangelical Christian confronting a Unitarian Universalist, saying, “I understand that UUs deny the divinity of Jesus.” “That’s not true,” said the Unitarian Universalist. “We don’t deny the divinity of anyone.”

The message of the Easter story then becomes not only that the teachings of Jesus, and the experience of him, live on beyond his death in the lives of his followers, but that the legacy and the experience of every person live on beyond his or her death. It means that for the lives of people we knew and loved who have died. It means that for the lives and teachings of our religious forbears. The children’s story this morning was inspired by the life of Henry David Thoreau. What he taught, and how he lived, inspires Unitarian Universalists, and others as well, more than 140 years after his death.

It also means that my life is important. And how I live my life is important. Because I will be born again in the lives of those whose lives I have touched. If I work for justice, and if I spread love, my life has meaning beyond my death. I expect to be born again, just as Jesus was. Just as Thoreau was. Just like you will be. And that expectation can help us live this life as if it matters. Because it does.

The other Christian understand of being “born again” has to do with religious conversion. This is what my patient was asking me. What he wanted to know, I suspect, is whether I had accepted Jesus as my personal savior. The biblical basis for this is from the Gospel of John, and it reads:

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, ‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.’ Nicodemus said to him, ‘How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?’ Jesus answered, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.Do not be astonished that I said to you, “You must be born anew.” (John 3:1-7)

This is the meaning of the anthem we heard this morning. “I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind but now I see.” The story behind these words is a story of being born again, of religious conversion. As it is usually told, 18^th Century Londoner John Newton was a scoundrel and a slave trader who, upon surviving a violent storm at sea, converted to Christianity, gave up his evil ways, became a preacher and an outspoken opponent of slavery, and penned these words.

But the timeline of events betrays this legend and points to an understanding of being born again that feels more real to my Unitarian Universalist sensibilities. True, Newton did convert to Christianity after surviving a storm at sea. But he did not give up slave trading for many years. He did eventually “grow into” his Christian faith, but the change from scoundrel and slave trader to pious abolitionist took place over decades, not in one dramatic conversion experience.

This, too, is an understanding of being “born again” that I can embrace as a Unitarian Universalist. It is the kind of conversion of which D. H. Lawrence spoke in the letter we heard this morning: persons are “born again” he says, when they are born to humanity and to consciousness. And they gradually formulate their religion by slowly and painfully gathering it together, adding to it and shaping it, and allowing it to grow and change.

This is why I feel like I have been born again – and again – and again – and again. This is an example of a Living religious tradition, one that grows and changes throughout our lives.

Now, of course most religions grow and change. Christians in the first centuries after the life and death of Jesus appropriated Greek philosophy and pagan rituals. The Catholic Church changed many of its ways in response to the Protestant Reformation. As Christianity spread around the globe it assimilated indigenous traditions and practices. The same is true of Judaism and Buddhism. To some extent all religions grow and change.

But in Unitarian Universalism we make it an explicit part of our tradition. The Principles and Purposes in the Bylaws of the Unitarian Universalist Association state that “The living tradition we share draws from many sources.” Those principles are subject to revision, and have in fact been revised. Our religion continues to be born again and again.

The word “conversion,” which is closely associated with the concept of being born again, means “to turn towards”. When someone adopts a new religion, he or she is turning towards something new. What might it mean to turn towards something new as a Unitarian Universalist?

For me, the first thing that was new when I became a UU was a new way of being religious. A way that honored my questions more than someone else’s answers. A way that required me to discover and develop my beliefs about the nature of life, about justice in the world, about my place in the world, about my responsibilities to others. And gave me the tools to help me do that: religious teachings from our many sources, people with whom to explore religious and ethical questions, rituals to touch my heart as well as my head.

I turned toward this new way of being religious, and out of it came other new things. New relationships. New understandings. New responsibilities. New blessings. A new appreciation for the religion of my youth, and new relationship with the ancient religion – new to me – of Buddhism.

Each new aspect of my religious journey has enlivened me – given me new life – caused me to be born anew. If someone were to ask me today if I have been born again, because of the narrow understanding of that phrase in our culture, I would probably be uncertain what to say. Whether to avoid answering, like I did with my patient in the hospital. Or something like, “I am a Unitarian Universalist. I am born again every minute of every day.” In my heart, I know that that is the correct answer.

On this Easter Sunday, when Spring is bringing new life to the earth, and when Christians are celebrating Jesus’ resurrection, I invite you to “Born Again Unitarian Universalism.” To honor the legacy of our religious forbears. To bask in the memory of loved ones who have died, and yet live on in your heart. To consider what you will leave to the world when you die.

I invite you to be born again – and again – and again – and again as you integrate new information and new experiences and new relationships into who you are and into your word view.

I invite you to turn toward a discovery of your own inherent worth and dignity. And that of every person. To turn toward the religious pluralism that enriches and ennobles our faith. Toward the goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all.

I invite you to embrace your chosen faith with the enthusiasm we usually associate with people who say they are “born again”. To find in Unitarian Universalism, and in this Fellowship, the comfort that comes with knowing you matter, the energy that comes with exposure to new ideas, the satisfaction that comes from making a difference in the world, and the love that comes with connections with your fellow beings.

May it be so.