I have been reflecting on the podcast here, https://theministryofchange.org/podcast/2019/11/9/liz-slade-spirituality-community-and-collective-wellbeing which is an interview with the Chief Officer of the UK Unitarian movement, Liz Slade. There is a transcript of the interview available at the same link, if you prefer.
Liz speaks about some of the things that have been traditionally found within religions and Churches, things that remain essential with respect to human wellbeing but which need to be transferred out of religious formats that people are now not very interested in, and transferred into formats that are more accessible and more meaningful today.
Yet Liz suggests that despite its limitations, the language of religion can still convey nuances that are more connective and more profound than purely civic language, or evidence-based language. That, therefore, we should not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Personally I would extrapolate this comment of hers from referring to the language of religion to also include some of the forms of religion. That is because I consider that religious conversation and dialogue cannot be purely word-based; actions and silences contribute so much to human wellbeing.
But Liz’s words speak for themselves; it was a follow-on thought I had, which I wanted to write about.
Today’s Unitarian movement would, if you let it, be reasonably directive of the “what” of religion, much like other religions and Churches; but it then shifts back a gear to making suggestions, only, about the “how” of religion; and as for the “why” of religion, once one gets beyond the blindingly trite answer that it seems to people to help them in some way, the Unitarian movement begins to look distinctly evasive.
Certainly, if you participate in dialogue in Unitarian settings you will be exposed to core or key teachings of many world religions. And thoughts from other spheres of human thought, such as the arts, philosophy, and science, are also given prominence. But in no sense are any of these brought forward as anything other than food for thought, and vehicles for dialogue.
I think there is much crossover between the Unitarian movement and other traditions about the “what” of religion. I suggest that the “what” of religion that Unitarians would recognise is about ‘making change within yourself through relatedness to what lies external to yourself.’ The “what” of religion is, perhaps, swinging as a pendulum between the pole of self-examination combined with revision of intent and practice, and the pole of co-acting in the world for the betterment of the whole. About taking responsibility not only for yourself but for what lies beyond yourself, and about being receptive to feedback of all sorts as you co-act in the world out there. The Unitarian movement lays a heavy emphasis on co-creation, on action as well as conversation, on - as Liz Slade puts it - getting rid in oneself of any consumerist attitude one might be tempted to adopt in taking part in church activities. Unitarians would be pretty firm that religion is not something one can do on one’s own. Admittedly, the language around such solitary activity is not well developed; but unless something which is going on interiorly has some exterior connection, it probably isn’t of much relevance, anyway.
The “how” of religion is more nebulously dealt with. Unitarians and their churches have evolved slowly rather than being part of disruptive change and so many of the forms that are suggested or adopted show their heritage as a continuation of practice in place for hundreds of years. So the “how” of religion gatherings tend to adopt features such as hearing readings; singing songs; holding periods of silence; listening to an individual person’s perspective on their own researches, reflections or experiences. There is, increasingly, recognition for the need to co-create during gatherings and for all contributions, in all manners, to be respected as essential components if a gathering is to be worthwhile. Nationally, there are opportunities designed to support group and individual exploration, and at the congregational level there is much encouragement to proceed with personal exploration in between gatherings, so there can be news to be shared about those explorations, when next a gathering takes place. 
But whilst regular, reflective gatherings of Unitarians are necessary if there is to be an expression of the wholeness of our humanity, such gatherings are not sufficient. There is also the need for connective co-creation over a broader front. As in any traditional religion, there is a great emphasis towards acting together for causes that are external to the movement. There are groupings and associations within the movement that explicitly aim at wider social justice action. Congregations are self-governing so any social action that is agreed by that congregation can be undertaken. And the breadth of individual actions that aim beyond personal advantage are always celebrated. The need to balance reflection and action is probably the most directive Unitarian guidance on the “how” of religion.
But the “why” is much less clear. Ask for the nuts-and-bolts “why” of traditional religions and you may get quite concrete answers: “Because only by doing this will you break out of the unending wheel of lifetimes and find the clarity and awareness that is at the heart of the universe.” “Because taking these actions will appease the goddesses, gods and spirits that wield control over all that happens to us.” “Because these instructions for life have been handed down directly from God to his prophets and from them to us so it is meet for us, right for us and even incumbent upon us to follow these instructions, for the sake of God’s love, justice and mercy.” “Because God showed his love for us by bringing into the world his son Jesus, who then has paid the price for all time of all our misdoings, and it is our duty and our joy to exercise our free will in line with God’s will.”
But there is no one, clear, articulated, root, at bottom reason that is ever given by the Unitarian movement. That doesn’t mean that there is no “why” for Unitarians personally. It means there is one “why” each. And the movement as a body witnesses to the fact that there are as many motivations and root reasons for the “why” of religion as there are people to experience them. Although other, traditional religions also recognise the multiplicity of standpoints held by their adherents, they nonetheless attempt to find a broadly acceptable formula to anchor their membership, with varying degrees of success. But if you ask the Unitarian movement for the “why” of religion, you will probably receive a response in the form of another question: ‘well, what is the “why” for you?’
The curious consideration this may lead us to is this: would a “why” of religion be more powerful if - in a compromised and slightly diluted fashion - it were approximately held by a large number of people, sometimes feeling uncomfortable with elements of it; or if, in a 100%, unadulterated way, it cut through to the quick, to the very heart, of one single private person, driving their entire being?
