Why I Am An Existentialist
by
The Rev. Don Beaudreault
Unitarian Universalist Church of Sarasota, FL
April 7, 2002
The word “Existentialism” is a widely-interpreted concept, and I shall attempt this morning to put my personal “spin” on it as a Unitarian Universalist Existentialist within light of those philosophical and theological movements which have used the term for their own purposes.
Traditional Western religionists as well as the non-religious have applied the term to their belief systems: the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, the theologians Karl Barth, Paul Tillich, and Reinhold Niebuhr, the psychologists Karl Jaspers and Gabriel Marcel; and the atheist philosopher-writers, Martin Heidegger and Jean Paul Sartre.
What they have in common are factors that each of us at one time or another in our life also share: questions about meaning and purpose in human existence, in OUR existence. And the trinity of such queries include:
Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
The fact is that they – and we – come up with our own personal responses to these questions and to the questions that spring from those questions. Said in another way, our approaches to answering these concerns might differ.
We answer them – or at least attempt to answer them – from our own philosophical, psychological or theological perspectives based upon our personal experiences or needs, formal study, or intuitive grasp of what makes sense to us.
Truly, in this regard then, the word “Existentialist” is foundational to each of our belief systems – of how we view the world and the universe, and our place in it. And it is not limited to any human being anywhere or at any time.
Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
Well, I am here this morning to tell you plainly that: I don’t know the answers to any of those questions for you – but most especially for myself. If I did, I would be a televangelist rather than a pulpit heretic!
Now you do remember what I told you a number of months ago about that word “heretic” don’t you? It is a word whose etymology springs from Ecclesiastical Latin and the word “haeretic(us)” and means “to choose.”
And if you sang those two hymns of ours this morning – and if you will sing the one to follow this sermon; and if you believe the words you have and will be singing – then you, too, are a heretic!
Words like:
Mind is the brightest gift of all,
its thought no barrier mars;
It seeks creation’s hidden plan, its quest surmounts all bars…
(#331 “Life Is the Greatest Gift of All”)
And words like:
O star of truth…
I know thy blessed radiance can never lead astray,
Though ancient creed and custom may point another way…
(#293 “O Star of Truth”)
And words like:
Where my free spirit onward leads,
well, there shall be my way;
By my own light illumined I’ve journeyed night and day…
(#324 “Where My Free Spirit Onward Leads”)
Oh, and there others in our hymnbook! And if you have been a Unitarian Universalist for a while, you have probably sung them (and will sing them – or not - as long as I am the minister!)
Do you READ what you sing? Perhaps you are reading ahead before you sing the words so that you can see if you agree with them!
Well, as a “Heretical Existentialist,” I choose to continue to ask those three big questions about meaning and purpose that are indicated in some of our cherished UU hymns. I have asked these questions throughout my life (even before becoming a UU) and have no doubt that I shall continue until my death.
Who am I? Why am
I here? Where am I going?
In common then, among those who apply the term “Existentialist” to themselves, is the problem of human existence – “problem” in the sense of life being a question – an ongoing question.
Granted some of us think life is more of a problem than others. But the minute we begin to realize this reality – that there is so much more than we can possibly imagine waiting for our questions – the minute the blessing and bane of being a questioner comes into play.
Think of it this way: there is a blessing in the sense of attaining a wonderful sense of freedom when you are released from a dogmatic or doctrinaire way of viewing life; when you are let loose upon the universe to begin asking questions which have heretofore been denied you by family, church, school – all those human associations.
But it is crucial to realize, along with a philosopher whose name I cannot recall, but whose warning I have made mine for many decades, that “Freedom without discipline is chaos.” The “problem” of human existence - those three major questions - can destroy you, if you are not in some control of the inquiry process.
That is the concern we should all have: that with freedom to explore possibility comes meaninglessness – which might lead to destruction of the human mind-body-spirit.
As the psychologist Salvatore R. Maddi puts it:
Only when you have clearly seen the abyss and jumped into it with no assurance of survival can you call yourself a human being. Then, if you survive, you shall be called a hero, for you will have created your own life. (Personality Theories, p.162)
“If you survive” – indeed. If you, are able to ask existential questions about meaning and purpose – and still maintain in the theologian Paul Tillich’s words (which is the title of one of his books) The Courage to Be, then you have achieved a depth of awareness and have come closer to answering the questions you ask.
Still, even though we all ask those major questions about our existence, most of us only do so when faced with some kind of altered state of being due to our circumstances.
That great preacher, Harry Emerson Fosdick, often told the story of being awakened in the middle of the night by a tipsy college kid knocking on his door. When the good clergyman allowed the young man to enter, the latter immediately asked him:
“I’d like you to explain to me the difference between modernism and fundamentalism.”
Fosdick responded with: “Go home and sober up. Come back later in the morning, and I’ll be glad to give you the answer.”
The collegian started sobbing and replied: “The trouble is, doctor, that when I’m sober, I won’t give a damn!” (from PIECES OF EIGHT by Sydney Harris, p.46)
And so it is with the human mind – when our defenses are down – when we face some crisis in our life – we do ask those existential questions. And many turn to the readily provided answers of a church, a support group, a trusted adviser, a national leader.
But it is harder – because it is so very frightening for us - to be individuals and ask questions that might very well not have answers; to accept the ambiguities of human existence; to deal with the reality of imponderables.
But by doing this – and perhaps arriving at some answers (even a smattering of possibilities) – whether within a traditional religious way or not – is the hallmark of an Existentialist.
Still, the Existentialist realizes the ambiguous nature of life, realizes that the game of life is often a relativistic one, where values shift, where not much is certain. But to deny the possibility of questioning would destroy one’s sense of freedom.
That means then, that there is no one way to explain or answer those three questions:
Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
But that is okay. That as much as we would like to have REASON be the method for explaining the enigmas of the universe; that as much as we would want to make sense out of the chilly wind that sometimes blows our way: the friends who betray us, the accidents which befall us, the suffering, the meaningless events – we cannot. All we can do is to look for the bright light of awareness – beyond, the existential dread, anxiety, or “angst” which seeks to destroy us in the middle of the night when we awake from our nightmares.
My own particular form of Heretical Existentialist Unitarian Universalism moves me beyond the so-called “absurdity” of Albert Camus (a self-avowed atheist) who believed that life made no sense; that a person’s search for meaning is useless because there is no meaning to be found.
I move toward hope at times in the midst of meaninglessness, especially at the time of anguish – even when it is so very hard to pursue hope – the way it was so very hard for the collegian to ask Dr. Fosdick his particular question. Again, that is when I attempt to maintain discipline within freedom, as I pursue those incredible existential questions with hope attendant in the process.
But you know what? I think many of us – at least in this room - really prefer ambiguity to simple answers. Not that I, for one, would refuse to fall down in gratitude to a deity who once and for all came into my life in some kind of white-light conversional experience and told me that life is such and such a way and that now no more questions were necessary. Wouldn’t that be nice!
But it has not happened yet in my life. So, I must forever be like the Gestalt therapist who, upon showing the picture of an old hag to a client realizes that the client – if she or he will stare long enough at the picture – will begin to see a pretty young woman wearing a boa. And eventually, that the person will see the old hag again! Do you know of the picture?
Perhaps that is a “picture” of your life – in symbolic form: ever shifting priorities, a moveable feast. A hag. A pretty woman. And at times one shifting into the other where at that moment, each IS the other.
I guess we can say that such “reality” – which alters because of its ambiguous nature, is, indeed, a “reality” which is “in the eye of the beholder.”
So which is “reality”: the old woman or the young woman? Or both? Or neither? (I imagine in the latter regard that some viewing the picture see merely lines on a piece of paper.)
Which is YOUR reality?
Sometimes, in the midst of awareness that life has multi-level meanings – even at the same time: that life is not at one of the poles of light or dark exclusively but might very well be dancing between the opposites – in the mainstream of that reality we must participate in a positive way.
Living an ethical life – attempting to make the right moral choices – demands that we carefully weigh our decisions within this ambiguous existence. We must do the best we can, all the while aware that as Samuel Butler said:
Life is like playing a violin in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.
In other words, there is no one blueprint for human existence. Each event cascades into the other, leaving us with choices to make – sometimes.
Each moment unfolds. Aptly, we each are called a human “being”– the “ing” or “progressive” form of the word “to be” indicating that we are forever in process, we are never complete as long as we exist.
(This is similar to my intent when I refer to Unitarian Universalism as a “liberating” religion, rather than as a “liberal” religion. “Liberating” means that we are forever in the process of discovering our freedom to be our authentic selves.)
And being in this process called “existence” we must affirm ourselves and those around us, realizing that no one gets “it” right” all the time – but that the INTENTION to do well, to do the best we can in the midst of ambiguity – is all we can authentically expect.
And if we succeed by our own standards of what constitutes success – or others’ – than that is wonderful; but if we fail by those standards, then we are still okay – as long as we have meant to make the best ethical choice which our minds and hearts have told us to make.
So I ask you: can you definitively answer the questions:
Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
As a UU Existentialist – with my own particular slant on it – I cannot say that I have yet been able to answer those questions. But I CAN say that it has been a great deal of fun attempting to answer them.
And I guess, to a certain extent (depending upon the circumstance), I would agree with “Bertie” Russell who once was asked whether or not he would be prepared to die for his beliefs, to which he answered quickly and most matter-of-factly: “Of course not! After all, I may be wrong!”
How wonderful an answer! It is a response that imbibes all the openness of child-like wonder and curiosity. It is a way of relating to the world with a sense of the fullness of possibility, beyond any one didactic, doctrinal approach.
It is the approach I desire to pursue as an Existentialist, one that is indicated by the following questions from a teacher to his class of seven-and-eight-year-olds – and their responses:
How heavy is the sky?
It’s heavier than a little kid.
How far is the sky?
It’s farther than India, Africa, and the North Pole.
What does the sky feel like?
Cotton, pillows, and softness.
How would you get to the sun?
You would tippy-toe.
How big is the sky?
The sky is about four inches.
It’s about as big as a blue whale.
What does the sky sound like?
It sounds like a bird whistling.
It sounds like an ocean.
It sounds like popping.
How big is the sky?
It’s bigger than a planet.
It’s a million inches long.
“The First Question of All,” Richard Lewis
My friends, welcome to “existence.” Welcome to the mystery of life, with all its possibility.