A THEOLOGICAL HYBRID
Summit UU Fellowship
May 18, 2008 Rev. Kathleen A. Green
A minister once said to his congregation, “If you were arrested for being a Unitarian Universalist, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”
Whoa! I suppose we could be asked, “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” or “for being an agnostic” or “for being Buddhist or pagan or atheist”. But the more difficult question is “If you were arrested for being a Unitarian Universalist, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”. Since having first heard that question, I’ve thought about it from time to time and I’ve started wondering not so much about the idea of having enough evidence but rather what kind of evidence would there be? Doing good works – projects of social justice, peace, anti-racism? Membership in a congregation – contributing time and finances, supporting the ministry of the church? Sounds good, but is any of that evidence of being a Unitarian Universalist, or could it be evidence of being a Presbyterian, Lutheran, or Baptist? What evidence could there be to convict you for being a Unitarian Universalist? Many of us consider our theology to be the area where clear distinctions can be made between UUs and all others.
I’ve spoken on several occasions of my childhood faith in the Southern Baptist denomination. Perhaps like me, some of you had childhood faiths that presented you with a theology. I didn’t need to search or struggle to find a personal theology. A one-size-fits-all theological cloak was given to me, complete with one-size-fits-all answers (questions not recommended), and explicit instructions on its use. It was the same model the church had been cranking out for decades – it was labeled ‘tried and true’. At some point I realized that the cloak no longer fit well. It was coming apart at the seams, the color was all wrong, the style was completely out-of-date, and the theological cloak I had been given, but had not chosen, was no longer relevant to my life.
I do not deny my childhood faith for it is a part of who I am. The theological cloak of my early years served me well at times. It also hurt me at other times. And yet, I know that it has played a role in how I have come to be who I am today. I also know from speaking to people, that there are some among us who have had theologies thrust upon them, some painful and some just ill fitting. These are the people who come to Unitarian Universalist congregations looking for hope; looking for fellow seekers of a theology that encourages and supports individual journeys. Journeys within a community of compassion.
Theology is personal in Unitarian Universalism. It is not institutional. It isn’t a theology set down by a denominational hierarchy. The Unitarian Universalist Association isn’t sending a proscribed theology to all members. It isn’t a theology laid out by me, the minister, or the board of directors. As a Unitarian Universalist, your theology is your own to discover and claim. The cloak you wear is of your own choosing – the Project Runway of Theology, if you will: your choice of fabric, size, and design. All kidding aside, theology is serious business. It is about our relationship with the “ultimates” of life, and while we have guiding principles and purposes, describing or defining our own personal theology is no easy task for most of us.
Some of you who have children or grandchildren may have faced that heart-stopping question, “What’s God?” Depending on the age of the child, and level of precociousness, “go ask your father” might not work. I learned that from experience. I tried the soft-pedal approach: “Well, some people think…..and your grandparents think……and then there are yet other people who think……” That didn’t work either. The question became “But what do you think?” I stammered and stuttered and said something I don’t even remember. It certainly was not one of my shining moments as a parent.
One of Adlai Stevenson’s favorite stories depicts a seven-year-old girl busy with her crayons. Her mother asked whose picture she was drawing. “God”, the little girl said. “But, my dear, nobody knows how God looks”, the mother admonished. “They will when I’m finished”, the child answered.
When I first entered seminary three years ago I realized just how much easier it had been when the theology was “done” for me.
“This is your theology. It has been prepared for you. Take. Live long and prosper.”
Well, not exactly, but you get the picture. Easier, yes - for a child not borne to expressing her internal doubts or verbalizing her internal questions. But also spiritually stunting and stifling. Far too high a price to pay for ‘easy’.
I don’t like labels; especially theological labels. I find them to be constricting and exclusive in nature. But in Rev. Tom Owen-Towle’s book, Wrestling With God, I found the word that best describes my personal theology: theological hybrid. A hybrid – something of mixed origins or compositions. In a theological context, perhaps even seemingly contradictory origins or compositions! Owen-Towle suggests “When the three A’s (atheism – No way, no how; agnosticism – Maybe, but doubtful; and affirmatism – Absolutely, yes) are clasped in resourceful tension each attitude brings a valuable gift to the theological table, providing a system of checks and balances. Atheism is a purifying influence, eliminating obsolete or abhorrent renditions of the divine. Agnosticism supplies the essential gift of measured indecision, challenging us to handle the sacred lightly without forcing it into formulas, to “live in the questions”, rather than yielding to either certitude or apathy. Affirmatism unflinchingly insists upon the inherent sacredness of existence.” And we would do well to remember the accompanying shadows with each: the atheist is susceptible to hollowness of soul and horizon. The agnostic is vulnerable to disinterest. The affirmatist can unwittingly become a sanctimonious crusader. So it is with advised caution that we would tread the sacred path and define our personal theologies.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was in the ministerial search process. One of the many questions on my ministerial record (a lengthy application of sorts) was “What is your theological orientation?” I was immediately reminded of a story about another UU minister who during the search process was being interviewed by the congregation’s appointed committee and asked whether she was a theist or non-theist. She replied, “How does the majority of the congregation define themselves?” The committee heartily and with great certainty answered, “Non-theist”. To which the minister replied, “Well then, I am a theist.” Sensing some underlying message going on in that reply a committee member asked, “What if we had said theist?” And the minister answered, “Then I would have said I am a non-theist”. The system of checks and balances and the resourceful tension and paradoxes that we navigate in congregational relationships and ministry is not only a hallmark of our denominational history; it is surely evidence for conviction!
Wherever you might place yourself on the theological continuum, there is a link with the three A’s. It is a powerful common denominator that is desperately needed in the world today; one that our own Bob Moore will preach about next Sunday; and one that would be the most incriminating piece of evidence presented in the case against us. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Exhibit H: Hope!
Keeping in mind there is no monolithic atheist, as there is no monolithic agnostic or affirmatist either, (there are many colorful varieties of all three), the hope that can be found in atheism is emphasized in human freedom and potential. While leaving metaphysical speculation to others the focus is on human-sized projects at hand – learning to love, preparing the future for generations to come.
Rev. Owen-Towle claims “Atheism at its healthiest provides a critical, purifying role in the pursuit of reasonable religion”. Clearing a path for hope. Hope in the potential of humankind.
“Agnostics are engaged in lifelong questing. For revelation is never sealed.” Creative doubting can furnish a constructive conduit for the uncovering of hope. Hope discovered among the doubts.
“And in the midst of healthy ‘no’s and perennial maybes, the affirmatist is willing to venture a steady, unyielding Yes to existence in its entirety.” It’s entirety that includes unequivocal hope.
As a large number of other faiths place emphasis on hope in a life beyond this world – a life after death – celebration of a life that does not exist on this earthly plane - Unitarian Universalism offers hope for the here and the now.
I categorize myself as a theological hybrid precisely because I embrace all three – atheism, agnosticism, affirmatism – some days more of one than another, but always with hope. Hope in the potential of humankind. Hope discovered among the doubts. Hope that is undeniable. Walt Whitman put the words in my mouth: “Do I contradict myself? Yes, I contain multitudes!”
Don’t let anyone tell you that claiming ‘theological hybrid’ is an easy way out – “Oh you can just believe whatever you want; whatever moves you at the time”. Actually, no. It requires a dedication to openness of mind and our fourth principle: affirming and promoting a free and responsible search for truth and meaning. It’s a search without mapquest or a Thomas Guide! It’s a search that is filled with unexpected turns and twists in the road. It is a search that can challenge, frustrate, and reward, but one that is far from easy.
Personal theologies evolve with life experiences: another birth, another death, another triumph, another tragedy, another success, another failure. All experiences for learning and exploring our relationship with what each would name as the divine within ourselves, others, and beyond us. When our own vision of hope, through our own personal theologies, grows dim we can reach out to this Beloved Community. To the atheists, and the agnostics and the theists. We can reach out and find hope again through the sharing of strength. And when the world around us loses its grasp on hope, and reaches out, we agnostics, theists, and atheists can and must offer a lifeline of hope. Hope for the here and now. Hope in the potential of humankind. Hope discovered among the doubts. Hope that is undeniable.
At a graduation ceremony at Meadville-Lombard Theological School a few years ago, the speaker shared a story that has stayed with me. He spoke about attending a weekend conference on celebrating peace and justice-making at Cornell University with his friend, Father Daniel Berrigan. Daniel was asked “Don’t you despair at the moral state of the world?” His answer was soft, brief, and profound. “Despair is a luxury beyond my means.” Suggesting that the means inheres in the ends, there is meaning in the very struggle and in that meaning there is hope.
You may find you are a theological hybrid like me. Or not. You may be sitting next to a theological hybrid. The beauty is that as Unitarian Universalists we are summoned to personal evolution. Summoned by our rich religious heritage and by each other.
Lives, yours and mine, open to the opportunities for spiritual growth, to possibilities for deeper compassion, and the realization of hope for this bruised and aching world, all in the theological tapestry that makes up our Beloved Community – that my friends is evidence enough of this precious fallible liberal religious faith.
And so the question remains: “If you were arrested for being a Unitarian Universalist, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”
My answer: I certainly hope so. As Rev. Frances West explains, “The humanist and the theist live in me, each sometimes puzzled by the presence of the other, but willing to keep talking. So may it continue.” So may we continue. May it be so.
Benediction: Bruce Bode
More than one spirit can live in us at once. A willingness to live with paradox and even flat-out contradiction, can help to keep us alive and open to this beautiful, terrible world we live in.
Amen. Salaam. Shalom. Namastè. Blessed be.
