The pups hit maximum cuteness
A few weeks ago I spoke at a Unitarian Universalist Church in Florence, Alabama in the northwest corner of the state. It was a two and a half hour drive from home, and on this trip I passed through many small towns in rural Alabama. Many of these tiny towns had a huge church and little else. One was Baptist, another Church of Christ, another United Methodist, and so on. I did not see how they could possibly fill these buildings, as there simply weren’t that many homes in sight (perhaps they were all hiding beyond the horizon). In contrast, the church I would be speaking at had a membership of about 50 people, in an area of 150,000 people.
Why are churches that build walls of division with their theology so huge, and Unitarian Universalism is so small? Do people like belonging to groups that claim an exclusive ownership of TRUTH. Is it comforting to believe your group is godly, and all others are doomed to hell, or eternal separation from God, or annihilation? Why does a religion like ours, that claims our common humanity, not our beliefs, should bind us together, have so little resonance with the majority of people?
The answer is undoubtedly complex and multifaceted. Here are a few of my thoughts:
1. By its very nature, Unitarian Universalism is hard to define. Since we acknowledge a large variety of spiritual and philosophical sources, we are often accused of believing anything we want to. This lack of specificity scares or confuses people.
2. We don’t claim to have all the answers to life’s mysteries. We don’t tell you how to have eternal life in heaven, or material success on earth, or a perfect family life. Rather, we acknowledge that bad things happen to good people, eternal mysteries will remain mysteries, and we don’t plan on getting any answers anytime soon. I like to say we are a religion that embraces uncertainty, but uncertainty scares or confuses people.
3. We still lack direction as an association. Are we a religion? Are we a philosophy? Should we focus on spiritual development and exploration, or should we be a politically involved group of social activists? Should we be called churches, congregations, or societies? Should our Sunday services deal with spiritual topics or social activism? None of these choices are mutually exclusive, yet these choices do cause division within some congregations.
4. Being a Unitarian Universalist should be hard work. We should be wrestling with our beliefs daily. We should be striving to live a meaningful life, trying to build compassionate relationships, and fighting against injustice. Yet even as we pursue these goals, we must be aware that it is very easy to take the wrong path. We must constantly evaluate what we are doing, and what we believe. We must never become comfortable. The sermons should be challenging both intellectually and spiritually. If you don’t come out of a service thinking and pondering, then we ministers have failed in our job. Yet how many people really want this in their Sunday sermon? How many enjoy hearing the same hellfire and brimstone sermons, or the same watered-down pap? Far too many, it would seem, as these churches still have many people in the pews.
5. Some say we appeal to the mind rather than the heart. Our services are too cerebral. One visitor to our church was delighted to hear so many polysyllabic words used in a sermon. Yes, we do appeal to the mind, but why does this mean the heart cannot be moved also? Perhaps this is an area we can work on. A service should challenge mentally and move emotionally at the same time. Not an easy task, but one that I think is essential. But even if we succeed at this balance, perhaps the freedom that requires constant intellectual and spiritual vigilance and self-examination will doom us to stay small in numbers. This may also speak to the state of humanity. It is hard for many to find comfort in our type of religion.
Whatever the reasons, I always encourage my congregation to boldly share what we believe, not trying to convert, but to let people out there know what we stand for. Some would find comfort in a place of worship that respects individual beliefs and a free search for truth and meaning. Some need a safe place to come where they will not be condemned for being human, where the hymns don’t extol a blood-soaked theology of literal sacrifice, where the sermons don’t pile of layer after layer of guilt on those in the pews. Some simply need a quiet place to listen, to share, and to be accepted. That is what we have to offer, and it is powerful and urgently needed in our world.
Foster Dogs:
Molly and Bri have found homes, but Ko-Ko is still looking. He is an incredibly sweet five year old male, neutered and up to date on shots. He loves to be held, and will sit on your lap all day if you let him. For some reason, it is harder to find homes for the boys. More people like female dogs, at least in my experience. But Ko-Ko is a real gem, if someone will give him a chance.
