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..."A diverse, spirit-growing, justice-seeking community"


 

spacer PAST SERMONS

"A Religious Liberal Examines His Heart"
April 10, 2005
Rev. Robert M. Hardies, senior minister

READING

Today's reading is from Garret Keizer's article, "Left, right and Wrong: What's Missing From the Debate Over Values in America," which appears in the current issue of Mother Jones magazine. Keizer served for a time as a lay minister at a small Episcopal church in Vermont. You'll sense a lot of Vermont in this excerpt:

"'What the Bleep Do We Know!?' That is the name of the film my wife and I have come to watch at the artsy theater in the closest big town off the interstate. It is roughly 10 days after the Bush victory. The place is packed; people are dragging in extra chairs. My wife says that she hasn't seen a crowd like this since they showed Fahrenheit 9/11.

"The theater has the feel of a progressive [Noah's] ark: saint-faced boys in dreadlocks, Trotsky look-alikes in denim shirts passing yeast-dusted popcorn to Susan B. Anthony wives: a Blue State's blue bloods, as it were. There are Kerry stickers on the bumpers of the Subarus parked outside. Darwin's name inside the chrome Jesus-fish-with-feet. I have a sense of being in church, not only because this is my tribe, but also because I have come here disposed to hope.

"I admit to having some trouble following the film. Ostensibly, it's about recent discoveries in quantum physics and how they might be applied to personal life ... [But] near the end of the film, its themes become clearer as two of the gurus on the screen inform us that we need to evolve past the outdated categories of 'right' and 'wrong.' There's a scary shot of the flickering interior of a Catholic church, an edifying close-up of a serene chiropractor ... All around me, people sit in rapt silence ...

"And I am aware of a bitter and I would have to say reactionary sentiment welling up in my throat: 'If the only viable choice is between people who can blithely affirm the obsolescence of good and evil, even while standing in the shadows of Rwanda and Dachau, and people like John Ashcroft...' I don't allow myself to finish the thought, but I recognize it for what it is: a thought perhaps not unlike the one that a number of Americans took to the polls this past November. ...

"The one thing more insufferable than a pretense of moral superiority is a pretense of superiority to morals, as if the task of an 'evolving' woman or man is to stand above the struggle, instead of on the right side."

SERMON

Back in January, I got a call from a member of the congregation inviting me out to lunch. We ended up sharing a meal at a restaurant in Dupont Circle, right in the middle of President Bush's inaugural activities. You may remember how the city was taken over that week by out-of-town guests. Well, we had a window seat on Connecticut Avenue from which to take in the parade of proud men in ten-gallon hats and cowboy boots, and women in their furs. Now, I consider the person with whom I was dining to be a fairly upbeat and hopeful guy. But inauguration week was testing even his resilient spirit. After a long silence, the man turned to me and said: "Rob, how did we get to this place? Is something the matter with liberalism? Why does it feel like we're doomed to perpetual failure? Is there some tragic flaw? Something inherent to the philosophy of liberalism that dooms us to failure?"

"You don't have to answer me now," he said. "Why don't you just preach a sermon about it?"

Well, I've given his questions a lot of thought over the last few months. I've been reading all the things written in the news, and I've searched my own heart out on this question. I've also gone back and consulted guides whom I've trusted. And so here, four months later, is a collection of thoughts I have about the liberalism I know best: religious liberalism. The religious left. It's not really appropriate for me to talk about the political left. I leave it to you all to do the translating you need to do if you want to draw political lessons from this sermon.

The first thing I want to say is, Don't panic. Since November, there's been no shortage of hand-wringing about the state of both political and religious liberalism. The consensus is that there's a crisis and we need to do something about it. Well, one thing you learn if you study the history of the left is that we always think we're in crisis. In fact, one of the things that sets we religious liberals apart from the orthodox is that we believe that revelation is not sealed. It's ongoing. Truth is always opening up around us, if only we have eyes to see and ears to hear. Because we are always open to new truth, we must always be open to new critique -- including the critique of liberalism itself. One thing about being a liberal is being open to the possibility that you're wrong. That's a big difference between liberalism and conservatism, and one I wouldn't give up for the world. So right in our current situation, we find ourselves grappling with one of the strengths and weaknesses of liberalism.

Here it might be helpful to tell a story. Early in the last century, a young Unitarian minister and theologian, James Luther Adams, went to study theology in Germany. Germany was the birthplace and enduring center of religious liberalism. Adams went to study with the masters. He went back and forth to Germany several times during the 1920's and 30's, and what he found terrified him. He discovered that by and large, religious liberalism was complicit with the rise of Nazism in Germany.

Really, there were three kinds of liberals that he discovered.

The first were the good, middle-class Lutherans who perhaps were distasteful of some of Hitler's tactics. But it didn't really affect them. The horrors weren't really present to them. They didn't see it on a daily basis. When they went to church on Sunday, the minister didn't talk about it. And so they went along. Perhaps they tutt-tutted about it in their living rooms, but they didn't act. Theirs was a tolerant, open-minded liberalism. Liberalism of the "live and let live" variety. But it wasn't enough to say "live and let live." It wasn't enough to say "to each his own." This vaunted tolerance allowed the rise of the most virulent and deadly intolerance the world has ever known.

Adams also identified a second kind of liberal. He recalled one time when he had a conversation with one of the leaders of the Lutheran Church in Germany, a theological liberal. He was shocked to hear the leader explain to him how God had sent Hitler to fulfill the German people's destiny on Earth, much as Yahweh had sent his help to the descendants of Abraham so they could fulfill their destiny. (Of course, he didn't see the irony that the German people's understanding of their destiny involved eliminating the people with whom Yahweh had made his covenant.) Adams tried to argue with him. He reminded the minister that when Abraham's descendants strayed from God's mandate for justice, then God turned against them. The minister stood up in his seat and shouted at Adams, "How could God be against us? God is in us!" That last line should be familiar to you from the Sunday mornings when we dedicate children to the church, and recognize the divine spark within them. And its familiarity should send a shiver down your spine.

There was a third kind of liberal as well. These were the ones who risked everything to oppose the Nazis. Adams had gone to seminary at Harvard with one young man. When he arrived in Germany and looked him up, he discovered that his friend had been sent to Dachau for preaching against the Nazis. These folks had to go underground, where they worshipped like the first Christians. They set up seminaries. They plotted violent and non-violent means of opposing the regime. Adams said that the watchwords among this group of liberals were "decision," "commitment," and "choice."

Basically, Adams concluded the following about liberalism from his time in Nazi Germany:

First, liberalism that relinquished its moral compass was complicit with evil. And second, liberalism that failed to muster commitment from its adherents was impotent.

So I've taken this all to heart over the last few months.

This leads me to the first of two calls that I want to make today. Emerson said, "Every heart worships something." And at the center of the problem with religious liberalism today is a spiritual problem. We don't pray enough. Prayer is an opportunity for self-critique, if we truly open our hearts in prayer. It's taken me too long to say this to you, but I'm going to start saying it, and saying it over and over again. If you don't already have a daily practice of prayer or meditation, you should start one. Gandhi said, "The only tyrant I will ever obey is the still small voice within." He knew that when we subject our lives to the call of our consciences, we will. If we aren't constantly subjecting our lives to moral and spiritual scrutiny, then we could become like that bishop from Germany, who said, "How can God be against us? God is in us!" Only through rigorous spiritual practice can we come to a place where our hearts won't lie to us. We have an immense capacity for self-deception.

I guess what I'm saying is this -- and if I haven't said it more clearly before now, then I take responsibility for that. But there hasn't been a sage or a prophet in all the millennia of recorded history who have believed that you can lead a life that is centered in the spirit without a regular spiritual discipline for cultivating that relationship, whether that be silent meditation or prayer, or devotional reading. Or journaling. Or a meditative walk.

I had a bit of epiphany about the church recently, and I want to share it with you. About a month ago, me and several others from the church were interviewing candidates for the church administrator job, for which we're hiring. One guy who we interviewed was a Baptist. He was a good guy, and a strong candidate. One of the things he did was bring in some examples of his work to show us. He brought in a very impressive annual report that he'd produced for the Baptist church of which he was the current administrator. Now, technically, I was just supposed to be examining the document to see an example of his work, but I couldn't help but look at the budget section of the report -- in particular, the part about giving. About 42 percent of that congregation gives more than $5,000 a year to their church. About 40 percent tithe 10 percent of their income to the church. He told us that each year, the church ends the year in the black, with significant reserves, such that when they settle on a new ministry opportunity, the money is already there to pursue it. In other words, at any given time, they literally have more money than they know what to do with. And we wonder why the religious right has power.

Friends, I want us to spend some time on this point for a minute. I want to say that I am not ashamed to stand in this pulpit and talk about money. I'm certainly not trying to line my own pockets. No one's getting rich here. So it's not for self-serving reasons that I talk about money from the pulpit. Last week, I spent most of the week hanging out with your children. Actually, with about a dozen teenagers from the church, during the youth group's trip to Boston. I always love going on trips with teenagers. As someone who's never parented a teen, I always learn a lot. I learned two things in particular last week. I learned what good kids our teenagers are, even though some of them try to hide it. But there were situations over the course of the week when I was able to see their good hearts in action.

But I'll tell you: I also saw something else. I saw what we're up against in trying to nurture those good hearts, in trying to nurture the spark of the divine in each person. I see the strong grip that the culture of materialism and violence and misogyny have over those good hearts. And I saw that the week that I and others spent with the kids was going to be no match for that culture. But I could make a list of things that we could do with our children and youth that would make a difference and would give those good hearts a fighting chance -- things that would go a long way in helping you as parents raise your children the way you want to raise them. Sunday morning RE classes are not enough. We need to take the kids on trips and give them experiences that can shape them in ways as powerful as the dominant culture. But those things cost money.

And so beginning immediately, I've made the decision to tithe. I ask you to consider this, too. I'm giving 5 percent of my income to the church, and 5 percent to organizations that support my values. What it will mean is less disposable income. What it will mean is less travel and eating out. But that's where I feel my money should be going.

James Luther Adams used to have a saying for times like these -- times when liberals were in their soul-searching mode. He used to have a slogan. He'd say, "Liberalism is dead! Long live liberalism!"

What did he mean by that?

Well, first, he was simply pointing out the fact that self-critique and self-renewal are integral parts of what liberalism is. Revelation is ongoing. But he also meant that there are parts of liberalism that must be set aside, that must die, in order for the redemptive qualities of liberalism to survive. Liberalism is dead. Long live liberalism.

These days are clearly one of those times when we must decide what about liberalism is dead, and what is redemptive. We must jettison the former and cling tenaciously to the latter.

I want to submit to you today that the liberalism that must die is the liberalism that spends so much time sorting out the issues that it never takes a stand for what's right and what's wrong. The liberalism that must die is the liberalism that, even after the most inhumane and violent century of recorded history, still refuses to take seriously the human capacity for sin and evil -- and that refuses even to use those words simply because the religious right has misused them. The liberalism that must die is the liberalism that has such a negative attitude toward power and authority that it permanently relegates itself to powerlessness.

The liberalism that must die is the tepid faith of those who can't make up their minds. Once, the wife of Oliver Wendell Holmes said to someone who asked her what religion she was, "We're Unitarian." He said, "Why?" And she said, "Because it's the least you can be." The liberalism that must die is the liberalism that demands nothing of us.

The liberalism that must die is the liberalism that has abandoned its historic commitment to justice, and that, instead, has become a theological cover for middle-class respectability. The liberalism that must die is the smug arrogance that always has a reason why someone's scheme isn't good enough, but whose arrogance is really just a cover for a lack of courage to enter the fight.

Those liberalisms have got to go.

Conversely, the liberalism that must live on is the liberalism that looks at the human heart with a clear and unsentimental eye, and still finds reason for hope. That can say, with William Ellery Channing, "Despite all our failings, I still thank God that my fate is bound together with the human race."

The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism whose commitment to the worth of every person is such that it always asks the question: "Who among us is not free?"

The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism with a grown-up's understanding of freedom. Freedom is not "I can do whatever I want." Real freedom is "I can do what I must. What I'm called to do."

The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism that takes all the available knowledge -- knowledge of faith and of reason -- and based on that knowledge makes judgments about what's right and what's wrong. The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism that values the rational mind, yes, but that values equally the convicted heart and the strong will.

The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism that is committed to the prophetic all for justice. The call that has motivated generations of liberalism to work on the front lines of justice.

There are some in this country who have already given up on a significant portion of our youth. And right this moment, they are building prisons where our children will be warehoused for the rest of their lives. The liberalism that must live on is the liberalism that won't abandon our children to the prison cell, and that provides them with a strong moral compass to avoid it.

Friends, religious conservatism can only take us into the future by amputating a good portion of humanity. It is not a viable faith to lead us into the future. But religious liberalism will only be a viable option when it can muster the courage of its convictions, and recommit itself. This is just to let you know that today I'm recommitting myself. That from today on, I'm going to try even harder. I'm going to pray more. I'm going to commit more. I'm going to give more of myself and my resources. And if this sounds a bit like an altar, well, it is. Because now is a time for decision. And for commitment.

Thank God we don't live in Nazi Germany. But we do live a nation that reeks with injustice. And this nation and this world don't need a bunch more people who are content as long as things are good for them. These times need more people who recognize themselves as members of the great family of all souls, and who won't be content until all of our kin know what it means to be free.

And so to the friend who asked me four months ago about the future of liberalism, I say what James Luther Adams said to us: "Liberalism is dead. Long live liberalism!"

Amen.