True Religion
Given by James Covington on March 11th, 2007
I want to speak with you today about true religion. It isn’t the first time I have addressed the issue of religion and it probably won’t be my last. But since this is Open House Sunday and we may have a few visitors and since UUs can appear to be all over the map in regard to religion and since religion has been under attack in some quarters recently and since indeed many malicious deeds can be committed in the name of religion, well, why not talk about it today?
Some of you may have read the lead article in last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine: “Why Do We Believe?” Of course, it caught my attention right away. The article reviewed recent attempts by scientists and anthropologists to explore the origin of religion and belief in God. And of course, opinions vary. In recent months, the scientific assault on religion has been given much attention as a result of the writings of scientific atheists, some referred to as “neo-atheists” who have suggested that religious faith is nothing but a human affliction. Richard Dawkins in his book “The God Delusion,” concludes that religion is nothing more than a useless and sometimes dangerous, evolutionary accident. I certainly can’t disagree with him that religions can be dangerous and I would add, even delusional. But he also writes: “Religious behavior may be a misfiring, an unfortunate byproduct of an underlying psychological propensity which in other circumstances is, or once was, useful.”
Those are pretty searing words. And in my opinion one of the more naïve statements I have ever read about religion. At least as I understand the nature of religion. Yes, human beings have misused religion and have committed heinous acts in the name of religious faith and devised strange and sometimes useless rules and rituals over the generations. But of course, human beings tend to misuse just about anything for their own gain, including politics and religion.
The attacks by Dawkins and Sam Harris, et al, are valid in many respects, and need to be said, but their understanding of religion is quite narrow, it seems to me. The religion that many scientists are critical of these days is of the literalist, fundamentalist kind, but none of these writers seem to have any apprehension of the poetic nature of the religious impulse.
As already stated, I do agree with many of their criticisms of “literal” religion. Most Americans believe in the devil and hell and angels and heaven. I do not. Most Americans believe in miracles. I do also, but not as an intercession from God. Ninety-two percent believe in a personal God with a distinct set of character traits. I do not. But I do believe in God. I will explain later.
The writer of the article in last Sunday’s magazine asked the question: “In short, are we hard-wired to believe in God?” Well, that is going to be hard to prove in any case, and the author does offer some very interesting explanations for how we might be wired for belief in God.
What we do know however, is that we are all wired for “connection.” Other recent scientific research indicates that children are biologically primed ("hardwired") for enduring connections to others and for moral and spiritual meaning. There are many ways to nurture that connection, the married family being a prime resource, but I think it is obvious that we are wired for connection in many different ways and religion provides one major resource.
I find it quite interesting that the Latin root for religion, "re-ligere," means literally "to bind together." Now “bind-together” can sound “constricting”, but to bind together really suggests “attachment.” Some relational attachments can indeed feel constricting, but healthy attachment is something all of us need. Why? Because we all know we are vulnerable. We know we shall die. We are an anxious species. We know we need one another, otherwise we feel isolated, alienated. We also know how capable we are of doing terrible things to one another. When our anxiety is not grounded well through healthy attachments, we can do stupid things, commit heinous acts and create havoc.
So, being conscious of life and death, knowing we are vulnerable, we human beings ask profound questions: What is the meaning of my existence? Why am I here? Why is there something instead of nothing? What is my responsibility? How should we live with one another? Am I my brother’s keeper? What happens when I die? These are religious questions born of our human condition. They are questions seeking connection. They are questions of essential being.
Let me draw a distinction between being religious in the conventional sense and being religious as an essential dimension of being human. In a lot of what follows I shall be referencing Forrest Church, minister at All Souls in Manhattan. Of all the definitions of religion I still favor the one offered by Dr. Church: Religion is our human response to the dual reality of being alive and knowing we must die. That covers a lot of ground, including our anxiety about our aggressive predatory side. We are not the animal with complex tools or advanced language, but the religious animal. Knowing we must die, we question what life means. We may arrive at non-theological answers to these questions, but the questions we ask arise from a religious condition as I have defined it.
To be religious in the conventional sense, we fit ourselves into religious boxes. We call ourselves "Christian," "Jew," "Moslem," or "Buddhist." Or, more narrowly, Baptist, Presbyterian or Catholic or Conservative Jew or Reformed Jew. This is a Unitarian Universalist Congregation. Most, but not all of us, identify ourselves as Unitarians. Some further identify themselves as Christians, Jews, or Buddhists. We believe outside the box. The nomenclature of our faith here is various and rich. But that isn't what makes us religious. Thomas Jefferson said it well: "It is in our lives and not from our words that our religion must be read." Ave Maria and Amazing Grace are stirring affirmations to be sure, but far more telling is how we treat our neighbors and loved ones, how honest we are in our dealings with each other, and how good our hearts are.
I mean not to demean the great orthodox faiths. It is perfectly possible to belong to an orthodox church and have the truth of your faith redeemed by your deeds. There are thousands of ways to be saved from our baser selves. Many people are saved by Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad or Moses from living empty, hopeless, undirected lives. Yet many individuals belong to a religious group and do not live a religious life. Their professions of faith jar almost completely with the way they act. We see this and are tempted to reject religion, even as we see believers inspired to hate in the name of God and are tempted to reject the very idea of God. We also know from experience, our own and observed experience, that it is possible not to belong to any religious group and still be loving and humane in the deepest of ways.
So why bother with organized religion in the first place? Why trade in your Sunday morning New York Times, cozy chair, Bloody Mary and “Meet the Press” for an hour on these relatively hard pews? Why not remain vaguely spiritual rather than join a religious congregation and risk becoming actually religious? There are many good answers to this question. Here are a few, all of which, in my view, define “true religion.”
First, being religious implies a moral concern for values that are universal and humane. Much organized religion doesn't bind God's children together under a single code of loving kindness, but instead divides one tribe from another. Again, even in religion, our anxiety about our vulnerability, can manifest itself through rigid dogma that makes one feel chosen and therefore safe. But here, in a congregation that stresses deeds over creeds, there are literally dozens of ways to bind ourselves together with others in performing acts of loving service. To do so is to practice the kind of religion that serves and saves, not the kind that damns.
The words we use to express loving-kindness are telling. We are religious when we console—console—literally to stand beside another in his or her aloneness. And when we commiserate, when we open our hearts to share the misery a loved one or neighbor is going through. And when we offer comfort—the word comfort meaning to bring to another our strength. Those who serve others in God's name with the primary goal of converting them attach coercion to the help that they offer. Dr. Albert Schweitzer ran into trouble with the financial backers of his hospital in Lambarene, because he refused to proselytize. At the end of his life, weary of Christian hypocrisy, he identified himself as a Unitarian, but even then he didn't package his faith with his medicine. It was in his life and not from his words that his religion was read. AS quoted in the program this morning from Clarence Darrow: “Will the world ever learn that mercy and pity and charity are more to the sign of the Infinite than all the creeds and dogmas of the earth?”
Second, to be religious means to be open to the universe. A great deal is implied in this statement. There are many people who call themselves religious who are completely closed in their thinking about this wonderful universe in which we live. They have narrowed everything down to a tight-straitjacketed theological system. Being religious in the largest sense of the word—that which binds us, all of us, together—can be completely cancelled out by belonging to a group that believes it alone has the truth and that every one else is damned to Hell. If a person believes that all of the truth has already been vouchsafed through a special prophet or a sacred book, and the sole purpose of religion is to convert others to this proposition, then belonging to a religion can lead to what can only be called irreligious, even demonic behavior.
How different this is from being open to the universe. Here at this Fellowship the only books of revelation are the book of nature and the book of human nature. If we study both closely we will be left with a deeper sense of wonder and awe than any salvation narrative could possibly offer. But to experience this wonder and awe, we must read the books of nature and human nature with due reverence. We must embrace each day as the miracle it is. This is religious work and it requires religious discipline. We perform that work together weekly in our Sunday liturgy. Once a week we pause and pinch ourselves. We can't take this life for granted. We must receive it as a precious gift, a pearl of great price. This is indeed, the day we are given.
This may sound like too broad a definition of what it means to be religious. But how many of us, even in secret, remember to say, "Here I am universe, speak to me in whatever way that you can?" "Show me beauty, show me justice, show me truth, show me the way.” How much more religious is this humble, open posture than locking one's mind on a single set of facts and then laboring with all our might to impose our ideas upon the universe. One reason to join this Fellowship is to discipline our gaze beyond the limited horizon of our daily scheming. Beauty surrounds us and we constantly miss it. We choose to be religious together because alone we may forget to remind ourselves how fragile and precious life truly is until the trap door swings and we are left with nothing more than a final desperate prayer.
Third, to be religious, we must discover a sense of oneness with all of creation. Unitarian Universalism is, above all, a faith that celebrates oneness—one God or ground of being, Unitarianism, and one shared destiny, Universalism. Schweitzer spoke of this principle as reverence for life. We are a part of, not apart from, a vast and mysterious living system.
Mystics of every faith proclaim this sense of oneness. Thus the Brahman-Atman relationship of Hinduism, the sense of Nirvana of the Buddhists, and the concept of Jesus that "I and the Father are One." All of these are examples of mystical oneness. Do you see the connection?
The great religious prophets have all recognized that beyond the intellectual realm lies a numinous oneness that transcends all differences, call it the Holy, the divine Spirit, God—it doesn't matter. The mystic oneness of person to person, which we may capture in lovemaking or deep listening or true empathy is but a simple expression of the greater mystical oneness of all existence. The great prophets have preached cosmic oneness not only because it makes good metaphysical sense, but also because it answers a profound human need—to be one within ourselves, reconciled to our neighbors, and at home in the cosmos. Human feelings of friendship and empathy are but a faint reminder of the essential mystical oneness—there it is again—the connection of all creation. Theologians may reason their way to oneness, but mystics experience it—as we all do in magical moments of connection—when we set aside the intellect and connect our souls to the great chain of being. This is the Eternal. This is the God in whom I believe, to whom I pray and for whom I long, and with whom I feel a Oneness. Do you know what I mean?
To experience the Eternal, an experience that we cannot adequately describe, is more meaningful perhaps than any other experience in our lives. Call it The Holy. Divine Compassion. Lord. Ground of our being. For me, God works just fine.
Finally, and we now complete the circle, to be religious is to let this sense of the Eternal make a difference in our lives. It transforms us. Religious faith that is not transforming is worthless. I say that we have completed the circle because in a sense we are back where we started. I suggested in the first place, that we ought to be good neighbors, that it is in our lives not our words that our religion must be read. I believe that there is something beyond humanitarianism, a tremendous and fascinating mystery as theologian Rudolph Otto described it, mirrored within our very lives. But once we have made a trip through the stars and have discovered that the universe is one, this sense of cosmic kinship cannot help but uplift and transform our personal lives. Such religion exalts our neighbor and ourselves at once by placing us together in divine kinship.
All I have really done this morning, by the way, is to frame the essential teachings of Jesus in more universal terms. According to his two great commandments that sum up all the law and the prophets, we are to love God with all of our heart, mind, and soul and our neighbors as ourselves."
The two great commandments start with we and end with ourselves. You can be spiritual on your own, of course, but we can only be truly religious together. Here at at this Fellowship, we always have and always will welcome those of you who consider yourselves non-religious, not-believing, non-joiners. You will follow in a long and distinguished line of people who joined this congregation before you feeling very much the same way that you do now. But, in the spirit of full disclosure, it is only fair to warn you. By joining this church you run a real risk. You may become a joiner. Some of you can’t imagine that. You may well become religious and I know some of you say you are spiritual but not religious. And, if you are not very, very careful, you may find yourself waking up some resplendent Sunday morning and see the sunlight dancing through your window and offer up a prayer of thanks to …………the universe. Or God.