January 8, 2006

Rev. Henry Ticknor
Unitarian Universalist Church of the Shenandoah Valley

Our Fourth Principle

I’m quite sure that you have all seen those T-shirts that say something like my parents or my grandparents went to such and such a place and all I got was this lousy t-shirt? Well, if I was wearing a T-shirt this morning it would say “I visited Paris and all I got was this lousy cold!” I say this by way of an introduction lest my voice which is still a bit scratchy suddenly gives up.

But to answer your questions the trip to visit Kathryn in France was a grand success. We saw all the sights—the Louvre, the Muse D’Orsay, the Eifel Tower, Versailles, Notre Dame Cathedral, and my personal favorite, a small funky bookstore called Shakespeare and Company which is filled with the spirits, as all you English majors will recall, of Hemingway, James Joyce, Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound and many others.

Because it was a holiday week everywhere we went there were great crowds and the weather was gray and cold. The morning we went to Versailles it was snowing hard but by the time we finished our tour the snow had turned to freezing rain and walking on frozen coble stones was quite the challenge.

In Lyon my sense of history was significantly broadened as we visited a roman theater that was first constructed in 42 BC. Makes Jamestown seem like it was settled only last year.

The food was great and most important of all it was great spending time together as a family.

When we visited the great cathedrals of Notre Dame in Paris and St-Jean in Lyon, I tried to imagine what these places were like when they were first constructed. No doubt they were dark, smoky, cold places. The priests would have spoken in Latin mostly facing away from the congregation. Hence the use of bells to help the faithful know when to rise and when to kneel. There would have been no chairs so the worshipers would have had to kneel on the stone floors and yet, the faithful came from all over France to these magnificent structures to celebrate their faith and to be renewed.

I don’t think most of us here this morning have undertaken a pilgrimage. Some of us, no doubt, have taken that requisite American pilgrimage to Disney World and some of us have traveled back to places that have been important to us in our lives to try and recapture feelings and sensations that are important aspects of who we are. But I seriously doubt whether many of us have traveled for days, weeks, months or even years to arrive at a sacred place hoping to be blessed and renewed.

But the notion of going on a pilgrimage is basic to most of the Abrahamic religions.

Islamic law requires Muslims to go on hajj—or pilgrimage to Mecca—once in their lifetime. Muslims claim the vicinity of Mecca as the site of Hagar's wandering in the desert after Abraham and Sarah expelled her. The story goes that Abraham visited Hagar there and built the first mosque in Mecca, and that he ordered that all those submitted to Allah should journey there. As part of their pilgrimage, Muslims throw stones at pillars to identify with Abraham's conquering diabolic temptation to not sacrifice his son Ishmael. (The Qur'an places Ishmael, not Isaac, in the biblical story.) Later, the pilgrims gather in a plain outside Mecca to rehearse a "final judgment" that they believe will take place in Jerusalem. By making the pilgrimage to Mecca, Muslims both remember their beginnings and anticipate history's culmination.

Jews date the practice of pilgrimage to the feasts described in Deuteronomy the Feast of Unleavened Bread—Passover; and the Feast of Weeks—Pentecost. Mosaic law required every Jewish male to observe each feast every year "at the place which God will choose." Although Shiloh was the first choice for celebrating the feasts, the center shifted to Jerusalem after Solomon built the Temple around 1000 BC—and pilgrimage began there in earnest. The Babylonian exile, which began in 586 BC, only heightened that desire, and Herod's renovation of the Temple no doubt encouraged mass pilgrimage.

At the end of Passover every year, Jews end their feast with the wistful "Next year in Jerusalem."

Christians, on the other hand, have no biblical mandate to travel to the Holy Lands. Why, then, have so many Christians sought out Jerusalem and other biblical sites? Christian pilgrimage is fundamentally concerned with rediscovering origins. Many Christian pilgrims have voiced their longing to "walk where Jesus walked.” Roman Catholics have set up Stations of the Cross to draw such walkers through the scenes of Jesus' life. Perhaps such pilgrims feel as did the fourth-century theologian Jerome, who said, "One may only truly understand the Holy Scriptures after looking upon Judea with one's own eyes."

The Way of St James quite often known by its Spanish name the Camino de Santiago, is the pilgrimage to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in north-western Spain where the apostle James is said to be laid to be buried. The Way of St James has been one of the most important Christian pilgrimages since medieval times.

The legend is that St. James' remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city of Santiago de Compostela.

So where do we Unitarian Universalists go on our pilgrimages? Do we go to 25 Beacon Street, the location of the Unitarian Universalist Association’s main offices? The few times I’ve been there I can’t say that I’ve been particularly moved in any way.

Do our pilgrimages take us to places like the Grand Canyon or Pike’s Peak? To the beach or even into the sacred spaces of our backyard gardens?

Perhaps if we are honest, our pilgrimages would be to places like Emerson’s home in Concord, or the offices of the New York Times, or possibly even to Dover, Pennsylvania where science seems to have triumphed over superstition.

But I do think that in a very real sense we UUs are pilgrims. Traveling through our lives trying to discern what is true, to discover what gives our lives meaning and to be the best possible people we can be. We are pilgrims in search not of a place; but of understanding.

And it is our fourth principle—the free and responsible search for truth and meaning—that is the map for our individual journeys. We are free to learn about all of the complexities of life; we are free to worship, or not, as we see best; we are free to believe, or not, in one God or ten; and we are free to explore our place in the universe. But, and in life there seems to be always a “but” we are called to be responsible in how we proceeded.

In an Essay on our fourth principle Fred Muir, the minister of our church in Annapolis, Maryland, writes, “Our search is marked by the tension and balance of freedom and responsibility: as we live our search, as we live the mystery of life, we covenant to affirm and promote a way that is both free and responsible. Free because we know that every person is unique—in the first principle we affirm an individual’s inherent worth and dignity, and with that comes free will, the freedom to believe as your conscience dictates. It is your search and no one else’s”

“A responsible search because the right of conscience demands it. You’re not just a ‘loose canon’ in search of whatever works. In the more orthodox faiths,” he continues “Freedom is checked by the responsibility of authority—whether it be from tradition, the hierarchy, or sacred scripture and liturgy. In Unitarian Universalism…Balance comes from each person: human experience is the final authority.”

Muir concludes, “We covenant to affirm and promote a free and responsible search for truth and meaning—a search characterized by humility, awareness, nonjudgment, balance, learning, engagement, and focusing. It is a search, not the search; it is done per person, one at a time. Yet it is not done alone. “We covenant to affirm and promote…” That’s not the sound of one hand clapping! “We covenant….” Is the sound of religious community. Our “free and responsible search” although an individual journey, is done in community.

It is through this process of covenanting with one another, of making promises to one another that allows us to share what we have learned and to grow through each other’s life experiences. Indeed what a dull and boring world it would be if our voice was the only voice. It is by understanding that our life journeys are as different as each one of us is different that we can begin to learn from one another.

Tich Nhat Hahn, the Buddhist monk, once wrote, “Twenty years ago at I conference I attended of theologians and professors of religion, and Indian Christian Friend told the assembly, ‘We are going to hear about the beauties of several traditions, but that doesn’t mean we are going to make fruit salad.

When it came my turn to speak, I said, ‘Fruit salad can be delicious! I have shared the Eucharist with Father Daniel Berrigan, and our worship became possible because of the sufferings we Vietnamese and Americans shared over many years.”

Some of the other Buddhists at the conference were shocked to hear that Tich Nhat Hahn had participated in the Christian sacrament of communion and many Christians were equally horrified. And he concluded with, “To me, religious life is life. I do not see any reason to spend one’s whole life tasting just one kind of fruit. We humans can be nourished by the best values of many traditions….Do not think that the knowledge you presently possess is changeless, absolute truth. Avoid being narrow minded and bound to present views.” I don’t think that this great teacher would mind a rousing chorus of “amens”!

I think I first learned this lesson when I was in seminary. One summer I took a course on preaching from one of my favorite profeessiors….Bobby McClain. The Reverend, Doctor Bobby Mclain. He had been a classmate of Dr. Martin Luther King and while working on his doctorate served a UU church in Boston. Rather than have class on campus we met daily in the basement of the Metropolitan Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. The timing of the class coincided with what they church called it’s annual Preachers Conference which wasn’t a conference in the traditional sense but each night for five nights a nationally known preacher would hold forth in the packed sanctuary.

Each night he would outline some basic aspect of preaching and then we would go into the sanctuary and attend church.

The services were a wonderful combination of singing, shouting and celebrating. The level of energy that was contained within the walls of that church was just amazing. Worship was never a spectator sport it was always participatory and always engaging. And yes, it was very Christian in its message. But between the music and the oratory the messages of peace and community, despair and resurrection, hope and love were universal. Sitting in that church, experiencing the call and response of the congregations it was hard not to become completely caught up in the experience and to truly believe that brotherhood and sisterhood and peace among the nations really are achievable dreams.

Then one night one of the preachers was a woman. A tiny black woman who was almost hidden behind the pulpit. Her message was about salvation. Initially she spoke so quietly that you had to strain to hear what she had to say. But quickly her voice grew stronger and the pace picked up and soon she stepped away from the pulpit and as she spoke her voice filled the sanctuary. She spoke of the issues confronting black men and women as the worked to find their place in the world. She spoke about the need to responsibility and commitment. She spoke about the importance of education and responsibility. She spoke about the need to be engaged in the political process. She spoke about the importance of the church and the importance of reaching out to those most in need. And she spoke about love. When she finished one member of the choir rose and began to hum the tune to Amazing Grace. Soon he was joined by others until the whole choir was humming the tune. Then the bass player and the drummer began to pick up the rhythm and soon everyone choir and congregation were singing the words to Amazing Grace that created one of the most powerful religious communities I have ever been in.

I did not believe much of the theology; many of the prayers seemed way too long; and yet I think I learned that night what it means to be moved by the spirit—by the breath that gives life to all. I will never forget the profound sense of hope and love that filled that church on that particular night.

“To me,” said Tich Nhat Hahn, “religious life, is life.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

And so, this is what I think our fourth principle is all about…it is about finding out about life. It is about seeking understanding and being inspired to search for truth and meaning. It is about being responsible in how we go about that search. It is about being loving and compassionate and respectful toward others. It is about being a member of what James Luther Adams calls the prophethood of all believers.

It is about being open to others; it is about being honest; it is about living in community. Above all else, it is about living our lives in ways that are not harmful to others. It is about being on an extended pilgrimage in search of what our individual truths may be. It is about living in a community that is supportive of our quests; that helps us when we get lost and celebrates with us our small successes.

Mary Oliver wrote:

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

So, where will your pilgrimage take you? Where will your life take you? Where will your religious journey take you? The truth and meaning we seek may be as different and as unique as each one of us; but I believe that our dreams of peace in the world and peace within our selves and our families are common to us all. Perhaps our search will lead us to be more honest and more authentic and thus more aware of who we are and of our place in the universe. Whoever we are the world calls to us announcing our place in the family of things. May we have the patience to hear that still small voice within and the courage to follow it wherever it leads. And may we have the generosity of spirit to walk together with our fellow pilgrims.

Amen.