Ethics or inspiration – which facet of Christianity most matters to you? #Unitarians in Ringwood online on St Patrick's Day 2024

On the day traditionally associated with St Patrick of Ireland, we met online.  We had several hymns from a variety of sources, a music video from the musical Godspell, and a pop song from the band Eurythmics.  And instead of seven minutes of silence, which we carry out when meeting face to face, we were led into meditational prayer using a prayer poem by John McQuiston.

Our president for the day had chosen to focus on the style of Christianity associated with Patrick, contrasting it with the style of Christianity associated with St Benedict.  Patrick’s mission was to import the wholly new faith into a Celtic culture rich in Paganism and imaginative nature-based styles and habits.  On the other hand, Benedict was in an already Roman Christian setting and was attempting to get back to basics, so as to live like the first disciples of Jesus.  Benedict’s mission was influenced by hermits and their aim of stripping away anything getting in the way between humans and their creator.  Two remarkably different contexts.

And so we had a reading from the Rule for monastic living written by Benedict; and a contemporary piece from John O’Donohue in Anam Cara, showing the Celtic imaginative associations between breath and spirit.  We also prayed part of a traditional Irish prayer attributed to Patrick, known both as Saint Patrick's Breastplate and The Deer’s Cry.

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As our president suggested, Benedict introduced a detailed, rules-based way of living a simple Christian life in a tight knit community already familiar with Christian scripture and doctrine.  Surely, we heard, Patrick had to imagine a wilder, free-flowing way of being Christian, in order to have any influence in Irish society.

No conclusion was drawn in respect of the comparison, and the question – left for us to ponder afterwards – was whether personally we gravitate to a more rules-based way of living our lives of faith, or whether we tend towards a more mystical sense of spirit.

Just to muddy the waters still further, our president also read a short piece from a spiritual teacher from Zen Buddhism who has also made a long study of the narratives of the life of Jesus.  This teacher suggests that the stories of Jesus can be read as a metaphor for the spiritual journey of every soul, and has drawn his own conclusions about Jesus’ message:

“Jesus, brought up and living as a Jew, had, I think, a profound understanding that — if you weren’t really careful — that the religion itself, instead of connecting one to the radiance of being, connecting one to that spiritual mystery, actually becomes a barrier to it. 

As soon as we get too hung up with the rites and the rituals, and the norms and the ‘Thou shalts’ and the ‘Thou shalt nots’, then all of those things keep us on the surface level of consciousness.

They may have a usefulness.  Mostly the usefulness of the exterior parts of religion is to modulate ego human behaviour, to have a good moral sense.  To move in the world, in time in space, from a healthy sense of ethics  is a very positive thing.  It helps to control the deeper and more dark elements of the ego.  So they do provide a very important function.

But religion’s roots are in eternity.  As soon as religion forgets about its roots — forgets that its primary function and role is to convey to awaken within you the experience of the sublime — when religion forgets that, when it forgets that it’s not primarily about its ethical function, it ceases to be reverence and becomes a power structure.

The first function of religion is to connect you with the mystery of life, with the mystery of existence.  That’s why Jesus was so critical of the religion of his time — because he saw that not only was it not connecting people to the mystery, but it was actually an active participant in veiling the mystery of existence; in covering over the kingdom of heaven.”

Resurrecting Jesus by Adyashanti

https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Resurrecting_Jesus.html?id=MToKnwEACAAJ&redir_esc=y

The #Unitarian movement - unlike other churches when it comes to the “why”

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? 

May 2017 meeting for reverence - how to DO religion #unitarians

For much of the 20th century, the watchwords of Unitarians were “Freedom, Reason, Tolerance.”  We opened our meeting on 14 May with a striking revamp of these words – which now become “Liberation, Inspiration, Compassion”, thus avoiding some of the sub-texts that the words ‘freedom’ and ‘tolerance’ now come freighted with; and ‘inspiration’ now integrating intuition and spirit with the logic of reason. (Our thanks to Jo James of Mill Hill Chapel, Leeds).

It is sometimes said of Unitarians that we are a church without creed.  But that’s not so – we are a church that does not state a SOLE creed.  Instead, we challenge ourselves to uncover our own underpinning belief system, a model that we ourselves are unable to deny, a personal idea of what is the most important in life.  We each are to believe what we CAN believe, rather than what someone else asserts we ought to believe.  So in Ringwood, after our chalice lighting, we privately spend a minute or two remembering our personal creed, whereas in another church we might be asked to recite out loud a set of words that may or may not hold meaning for us.

We then had the following prayer, written by Tony McNeile:

 After this, our meeting for reverence included all our usual ingredients of ritual, silence and singing.  But as always, there was a linking theme.

We spent the meeting looking at different ways of doing religion.  We listened to a song about John Ball, who was an English Lollard priest who took a prominent part in the Peasants' Revolt of 1381.  John Ball’s concept was that God had set us all to be equal in Christian love – no room in religion for the for power hierarchies of church and noblemen , and that

“All shall be ruled

By fellowship I say,

All shall be ruled

By the love of one another,

All shall be ruled

By fellowship I say,

In the light that is coming 

In the morning.”

Our first reading came from the Sikh tradition.  In contrast to John Ball’s prescription, this reading suggested that “God has created the creations in countless ways and of countless kinds, colours, and sorts,” and it prescribed continuous meditation on the Name of God as the way to salvation.  “The Name of God resides within all hearts, but the true saints actually see Him residing within them.  All kinds of gifts will be bestowed by God, if we continuously repeat with affection the Name of God.  God, who pervades everywhere and owns all powers, must be ever remembered.  This will give complete protection and salvation,” (a translation of part of the Sukhmani Sahib).

Paul McCartney helped us out next, with a song he wrote after he had had long discussions with George Harrison, whom I believe to have been a devotee of Krishna, in the Hindu tradition.  Paul’s song is called One of These Days, and it is a sort of hymn to mindfulness.

And then we took a reading from our own tradition, from recent essays by our own Rev Bill Darlison, from The Penultimate Truth and Other Incitements.  Bill argued against “seek[ing] to hear the voice of God either in the words of some guru, in the teachings of a church or in the scriptures.  Some people will follow all three.  All three are, in my opinion, problematic and, increasingly anachronistic. ....  Where, then, can we hope to hear the voice of God in all its freshness in this contemporary world? – In that very source which is itself the source of all bibles, religions, gurus and deities – the human soul, the creative human mind, the genius of the human spirit.....

Dogma divides us, stories unite us.  When people ask, ‘You Unitarians, what is your ideology?  What is your theology?’ I would like us to say: “We don’t have an ideology.  We don’t have a theology.  We tell our stories to one another.”

In our meetings, instead of a sermon we invite the president of the meeting to speak in a personal capacity.  Our president for the day spoke of the trap in religion to do with DOING religion.  She said that we forget that what suits “me” and teaches “me” is not appropriate to people in other life situations or with different experience.  Scripturally-based as he was, and looking for Christian salvation of society, John Ball conveniently forgot that even having a king, under God and above the people, was a hierarchy not mentioned in the Bible (the Peasants’ Revolt was not about getting rid of the king; it was about releasing the king from the power of the establishment and returning to the level playing field of the Garden of Eden).  So being ruled by fellowship alone was never going to be a successful prescription.

We were reminded that in human history, every time a mystic teacher gives some gift to the world, their students try to systematise the teaching and turn it into a practice that will allow the rest of us to have the same experience as the original mystic.  But it doesn’t work that way.

The Sikh advice to keep repeating the thought “God” was offered as a help for focus and humility.  But much of the day we are in conversation with other people or animals.  And when in conversation, repeating the word “God” interiorly can make one rather inattentive to the other person.  Yet the other person also lives steeped in divinity, so our president suggested that not attending to the other person for the sake of saying “God” is rather missing the point.

The contemporary view we were given from Bill’s writings is a humanist view.  His idea is that the sharing of stories is just as holy as focusing on a rule, no matter who the rule-maker was, nor how insightful they were.  Bill says the holy is between PEOPLE, too.  Apparently, Rowan Williams says the same thing albeit slightly differently: he says we cannot have a satisfactory relationship with the divine unless AND UNTIL we have a satisfactory relationship with Tom, Dick and Harriet.

Summing up, the president called to mind a model from the Jewish tradition: we humans are holy by being linked together by our neighbourly relations, like people standing shoulder to shoulder in a ring; noting that a ring, a circle, necessarily has a centre.

Nothing is SEEN at the centre of a ring of people – we can only see the people in the circle; those next to us, those opposite us, those across from us.  But the circle only exists because there IS a centre; something we are all facing, whether we see it or not.  And we each have our own tie, our own relationship, linking us to the unseen, silent, empty centre.

So finally it was suggested that that ‘remembering we are a ring of people, linked together, tied to an unseen centre’, is a contemporary model of how we might best DO religion.

Feb 2017 meeting for reverence on 'Church in today's world' #unitarians

Our meeting for reverence on 12 February 2017 reflected on the way faiths might relate and react to recent worldly affairs, looking especially at some recent Unitarian perspectives.

The opening words had been supplied by the International Council of Unitarian Universalists for use at February meetings and services, and included the words: “May the light of this flame remind us of the path of peace and wisdom.” 

A meditation from Aberdeen Unitarian Church then asked us to contemplate world peace, as measured in terms of the safety of children and those who are vulnerable.

We had a reading from the Unitarian minister Gabor Kereki, who wrote in 1968 that Churches are empty because they have lost contact with the real and living world.  His view was that religion without involvement in society is not effective religion; and also that action and involvement in society without a spiritual basis is dangerous, as shown by European history in the first half of the 20th century.  He said that Churches are “to combine pure religion with applied religion – to bring the values of the spirit into human life.”

This led to a reflection on what might be meant by “pure” and “applied” religion, and how those words are not simply placeholders for the words 'interior' and 'exterior' religion.  It was proposed that what might count as “applied” religion can be common to a range of world faiths, whereas what might be thought of as “pure” religion for each of them is quite different.

 

“Applied” religion is religion at work in the world as compassion, involvement, engagement, humility in relationships.

But “pure” religion is distinctive and could be thought of as what differentiates one faith from another.

So what might a “pure” religion be for a Unitarian?  This is quite tricky to answer as the faith and beliefs of Unitarians differ widely.

The second reading came from Fran Pickering, who is thought to be a Unitarian in the north-west of England.  Fran suggested that a favourite Unitarian perspective is to look at existence as an interdependent web of consciousness, both metaphorically and metaphysically.

At the electromagnetic level, that web is a web of power, and its energy can be characterised in terms of frequency. 

“Only as we, collectively, change the energy frequency of that web, by our own energetic acts of love and compassion, and by our own emanations of love into the frequency field, will the overall level of ‘consciousness awareness’ change for the better....... Peace will come when our love vibration is so strong, when our intent that the Earth be a garden of joy is so powerful, so clear, so uncompromising that the consciousness of all beings will be touched and changed.”

Our meeting included some hymns reminding us that Churches are not temples or shrines but fellowships, and that "the seekers of the light are one in the freedom of the truth" (Longfellow).  Towards the end of the gathering we heard from Kahlil Gibran (The Prophet)on our mutual dependence as we progress towards our god-self – everyone playing their part, with no room for inattention, detachment or smugness.

And we carried out our annual Muster at the end of the meeting, so that we now know who wants to be fully involved with decision-making for our Didymus society in 2017-18.  That is our local way of being involved in our little society, based on our spiritual explorations and leanings.

In the conscience

Is there a Unitarian faith, and if there is, is it a religion in its own right, or does it just borrow from other faiths?”

What hard questions to answer.  The starting answer is that there is no single faith for all Unitarians, so it would be meaningless to ask, “What is THE Unitarian faith?”   But it would be meaningful to ask, “What is the faith of Unitarians?” despite the fact that there will be many answers.

So here you will find just one Unitarian’s answer to: “Is there a Unitarian faith, and if there is, is it a religion in its own right, or does it just borrow from other faiths?”

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Many Unitarians would agree that a person is a unique meeting point within the universe.  A meeting point in time and space of the universal laws, the randomness of chance, the biologically inherited characteristics, the cultural upbringing, the body and its skills, the senses and emotions, the memory and  intellect, and the conscience.

Most of all, the conscience.

For each meeting point that we call a person, there is what might be described as a “calling”.  I guess it would be common for Unitarians to accept that each different person has a different calling.

As a result of that, Unitarians long ago rejected the idea that there should be one statement of belief, called a creed, for everyone who is in search of a fulfilled inner life to sign up to, either freely or under coercion.  In more recent centuries Unitarians have also rejected the idea that any single philosophy or religion framework is supreme over all others.  Many Unitarians investigate the frameworks of faith of a number of world religions, and find much of value in them, that speaks to their current position.

Unitarians do not declare any of the traditional faith systems to trump any other.  We do not accept the assertion from any adherents of the traditional world faiths that it has to be “all, or nothing”; we do not agree that a successful spiritual search depends on adoption of a single religion, to the exclusion of others.  We agree with many, however, that the search has to be disciplined and on-going over a whole lifetime if it is to yield fruit.

Many Unitarians would assert that the prime point where Essential Truths operate, the place within which the “bigger than daily life” Pure Life is lived, experienced and acted upon, is the conscience of each person.  We assert that, whilst it is possible to get glimpses of God or the Ultimate through relentless and dedicated application of a range of faith practices (and also secular practices), the Redeeming Truth – which everyone seeks as a remedy for restlessness – transcends ALL religions.

So let us say that for a while I soak myself in the learned wisdom of traditional Christianity, and I gain much.  And then, while I am struggling to understand how to apply Christianity in my life, say I am impacted upon by the Tibetan form of Buddhism: then, I may suffer the breaking of my mental models, my expectations, my sense of direction.   I may experience confusion as the icons I was becoming used to, my windows on the divine, are called into question, or wrenched from me.  A modern therapist might call this a “cognitive dissonance”.

Would that mean that my Christianity had somehow been “wrong”?  That the set of ideas new to me, Tibetan Buddhism, should be rejected as “wrong”?  Or that Buddhism is “right” or “better” and I should reject my attempt at Christianity?  Have I been “doing it wrong”?

The answer is “none of the above”.  A genuine Unitarian calling might, in fact, provide the strength and motivation to struggle through this cognitive dissonance and come out the other side, stronger.  A Unitarian view might be that there is no competition between well developed faith systems.  Unitarians might say that for many people, the well-developed faith systems are perfect callings, and those people would do well to adhere to them.  For instance, it is conceivable that a Unitarian would advise a wavering Muslim to go back to Islam and study Islam further; or suggest to a lapsed Catholic that they go and have a chat with their priest and see if they can uncover what has caused them to drift away from their faith and faith community – with a view to returning to it.  Whereas, for themselves, Unitarians may have a different calling altogether.

The thing about the Unitarian calling is that it also tends to be universalist in outlook.  By which I mean that, at heart, Unitarians may feel it to be true that what applies to ONE human being applies in some way at some level to ALL human beings, without exception – just like gravity, or the tides, the rise of the sun, or the fact that we all breathe oxygen.  So we are curious about what different faiths say that can be applied everywhere, to everyone.

People who – it turns out – are genuinely called to be Unitarians may study a wide range of world faiths and may notice that in some places there are not necessarily direct “translations” from (say) traditional Christianity into Buddhism; or Hinduism into Judaism; or Classical Greek Stoicism into Sikhism or Islam.  There are GAPS between the frameworks.  Something is missing from the universalist point of view.   Yet a Unitarian outlook would assert that Universal Laws and Unassailable Truth must nonetheless exist in those gaps.  For the Ultimate to be the Ultimate it must apply NOT ONLY in all frameworks and knowledge systems, in all pictures and metaphors we are able to imagine, BUT ALSO in the gaps between and beyond all these human-made constructs.  For the Ultimate to be the Ultimate, it must actually be Ultimate; it must transcend all human experience of religion.

The place where we meet the Ultimate is in our conscience.  And that is where the Ultimate meets us, too.   The Ultimate, aka “The Way Life (And Everything Beyond It) Is Turning Out”, experiences for Itself new combinations in each person that It brings into existence.  We see that it is in the conscience of each person that the exact and unique experience is felt, which we were brought into being expressly to manifest.  So if one day I am led along a wisdom path derived from one faith and the next day out of the blue I am fed a new wisdom: well, that is because the exact juxtaposition of these two wisdoms is what I was required to experience at this point in the universe, with who I am, right now.  Neither faith system is wrong (or less true), and neither is right (or more true).  Neither is supreme and neither is final.  What is right, and wanted, is the nexus of the two at that point in me as I am at that moment, all things considered.

This sort of view can be pooh-poohed by more traditional religions, as a half-hearted “pick and mix” approach to faith.  But I’m telling you, it’s not a barrel of laughs to be caught by these cognitive dissonances – they rock your whole being and it can take a long period of trust and re-learning to recover from them.  But if you have experienced one, and found it thrilling, and haunting – if you have followed me in this – perhaps your calling is to be Unitarian. 

Multi-lingual Unitarians

Consider these phrases:

In the struggle, there lies our growth

In the struggle, there lies our humanity

In the struggle, there lies our wholeness
In the struggle, there lies our despair
In the struggle, there lies our hope
In the struggle, there lies our salvation
In the struggle, there lies our learning
In the struggle, there lies our achievement
In the struggle, there lies our failure
In the struggle, there lies our loneliness
In the struggle, there lies companionship
In the struggle, there lies Tao
In the struggle, there lies a glimpse of entirety
In the struggle, there lies our emptiness
In the struggle, there lies All That Is
In the struggle, there lies our Saviour

Any or all of these phrases might be used to describe the same process and experience but from different perspectives.  Any or all of them might also be substituted by one or other of the hallowed names that people use for ‘God’.

Unitarians are religious liberals used to hearing many different words and using them without fear.  We are the religious translators of many different experiences, bringing them all together into the narrative of one community.

When you come to one of our meetings for reverence and worship, bring your own language with you, and respect that of other people, and you will feel right at home.