The "Fourth Noble Truth"

The "Fourth Noble Truth"

The Rev. Dr. Mark Ehman

Who . . . or what . . . is a Unitarian? This is a question that has plagued humankind, including Unitarians themselves, for centuries. Just who is this boisterous and blessed band of believers? On the surface, the name “unitarian” appears so easy to define; but underneath, the threads of definition interweave and twist around one another until one ends up with a tangled and knotted religious fabric that gives its wearer the “theological itch.” (And we know how Unitarians love to “scratch”). Of course, we could satisfy our desire for a definition by turning to the jokes. A Unitarian is one who believes that at most there is one God. A Unitarian is the bland leading the bland. A Unitarian is a religious person who sings poorly because he/she is always reading ahead to see if he/she agrees with the words. A Unitarian is one who, if given a choice of going to heaven or holding a discussion about the existence of heaven, would prefer the latter. A Unitarian is one who runs into a burning church to rescue the coffee pot.

We could rehearse the history of Unitarian Universalism, noting how its themes have echoed throughout the world—at least as far back as the Second Isaiah with his emphasis on the singularity of the divine being and his vision of the universality of salvation. These themes re-emerge in the fourth century CE when the “trinitarians” impose their will at the Council of Nicaea and ostracize the “unitarians” to the fringes of the empire (if not outright kill them). And although the “unitarians” were persecuted, maligned and marginalized by the “orthodox,” the themes that they promoted would not die. These themes smoldered, like glowing embers, erupting from time to time into the bright flame of truth and religious freedom. In the sixteenth century the “unitarian” theme of the oneness of the divine struck a chord with those who wished to reform the church and theological thinking. The “universalist” notion of inclusion—i.e., that all persons are worthy of blessing and benefit—became a welcome and liberating alternative to the harsh predestinarianism (a few will be saved, but most of us will be damned) of Calvinism. There is no better summary of these historical episodes of Unitarian Universalism than that found in Paul Holton’s Unitarian-Universalism: A Brief History.

But history is often boring. Added to that, the reasons for the debates that helped to define Unitarianism and/or Universalism, and the passions which supported those reasons, escape us for the most part. From our vantage point the arguments of the past seem silly—or irrelevant—or both. Moreover, since the beginning of the twentieth century Unitarianism has moved in the direction of scientific naturalism and psychological humanism. Darwin has been placed alongside of the Bible as authoritative scripture, and Maslow has been elevated to the level of Moses. And so Unitarian Universalism begins to look quite different from the form and structure which it assumed in times past. No wonder a UU is difficult to define. No wonder Unitarian Universalism leaves so many in the larger world mystified. What exactly is it?

Last week I received a call inviting me to join a team of professionals which serves as a sounding board for angry and distraught people who end up in family court. On this team are representatives from the Department of Juvenile Justice, the Department of Children’s Services, the School Department and case managers. After learning a little about what was expected, I asked the obvious question: Why had I been contacted to join this team? The answer: We want someone from a neutral religious organization. I restrained my laughter. I also refrained from the satiric quip that “neutral” in a car means “going nowhere.” But after I hung up, the conversation still puzzled me. Is this the way by which Unitarian Universalism is understood by the outside world—a religious organization that is going nowhere? Alas, I fear that too often this is the case.

In a sermon two weeks ago, Bill Sinkford, the recently elected president of the Unitarian Universalist Association, recounted how an irreverent web magazine viewed UUs in general and his new role in particular. Commenting on Bill’s election at General Assembly in June, the magazine said: “The Unitarian Universalist Association, a fuzzy sorta Christian consortium of PBS donors, nonprofit staffers and other people smarter and nobler than you, elected (its first black) president on Saturday with all of the spirited resolution of drafting a pledge to condemn global hunger. Following his victory, Sinkford was given a biodegradable ticker tape parade down the main streets of Cleveland, leading a procession of Volvos, Toyotas and the occasional Subaru.” Bill confesses that this review is “just a little too true,” hitting the soft spot of Unitarian Universalism—people smarter and nobler that you—and then proceeds to observe that “[p]erhaps our greatest spiritual danger is our smugness and our unwillingness to know who we are. Most of us are middle and upper middle class white folks with degrees from really good schools (the average education in our pews is at the Master’s level), children well above average, and not a shred of political incorrectness among us.” What an indictment! I would have hoped that a few of us might have been politically (and theologically) incorrect.

Perhaps we are attempting to arrive at an understanding of ourselves by employing the wrong categories—searching for definitions, rehearsing history, devising theologies and philosophies that are sufficiently inclusive to embrace the varieties of religious expressions of the present, but not too inclusive to lead to the conclusion that one may believe anything that one wants and be considered a “card-carrying” UU.

The great tradition of Buddhism is based on “four noble truths”—the noble truth of suffering, the noble truth regarding the cause of suffering, the noble truth acknowledging an end to suffering and the noble truth that specifies the way to overcome suffering. However, Buddhists are not the only ones who have “noble truths.” We Unitarian Universalists have our own brand of these affirmations. They are called the “seven principles.” In UU churches, on UU websites, in journals, brochures and magazines, on coffee cups and T-shirts, these principles serve as a reminder of who a UU is and what a UU does. They are not creedal statements (though some UUs use them as a test of Unitarian Universalist orthodoxy). They are not unchanging precepts (though, heaven forbid, that General Assembly should try to change them). They are not requirements for admission into UU congregations (though some invariably think of them in this manner). They are expressions of our stance toward ourselves, toward others and toward the universe in which we live. They reflect Unitarian Universalist identity and profound implications for Unitarian Universalist action.

The principle that excites me the most is number four—the “fourth noble truth.” It reads: “A free and responsible search for truth and meaning.” What a liberating affirmation! And what a contrast to most religious traditions! When I was growing up in an evangelical environment, I was always taught that truth and meaning were already “given.” God had a plan; and one had best get in step with the plan because one’s eternal destiny depended on it. As I proceeded through my teen-age years, I concluded that if God had a plan, it was, at best, a work in progress. There were too many gaps in the plan, too many unexplained and/or catastrophic events which did not quite fit the requirements of a well-designed and well-ordered theological, moral and physical universe. What was God thinking of? And then I began to suspect that there was no plan after all, and that if I were interested in pursuing truth and meaning I would have to do it on my own. This was a frightening realization; but it was also a freeing one. To think that there was no book that I had to conform to, no rules that I had to follow, no knowledge that was absolutely necessary, no person that I had to revere—what an earth-shattering realization. Indeed, it was a religious experience. But even more earth-shattering was the growing conviction that I probably had to create truth and meaning for myself. There was no pre-packaged theology, no ready-made morality to which I might turn for direction. I had to “make it up as I went along.” Forrest Church, writing in the most recent World magazine, observes that “. . . truth in religion is like truth in poetry. Our common text is the creation. Though limited by the depth and field of our vision, we are driven to make sense of it as best we can. So we tell stories, formulate hypotheses, develop schools of thought and worship, and pass our partial wisdom down from generation to generation.” And that is the beauty of Unitarian Universalism and its “fourth noble truth.” It calls for an inquisitive and imaginative mind that is able to take the raw materials of experience and forge them into the kind of humanity and community that we want. The “search for truth and meaning” calls upon us to explore. It calls upon us to dream. It calls upon us to experiment. As Walt Whitman observed: “The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”

In addition to having an inquisitive and imaginative mind a Unitarian Universalist is one with a prophetic voice. Caught up in the tide of the “social gospel” of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, UUs began to speak out about the plight of the destitute, the exploited and the disenfranchised. Many UUs—particularly women—spearheaded movements to establish settlement houses, to improve education among the poor, to heighten awareness about the sordid conditions in our prisons, to march for a woman’s right to vote, to lobby for a woman’s right to choose. These latter two movements resulted in the Nineteenth Amendment and the foundation of Planned Parenthood. All of these examples demonstrate that UUs have often been on the prophetic edge of issues. But being on the prophetic edge means “going against the grain” or “swimming against the stream.” And “going against the grain” means that the prophet often brings a message that the popular culture (read, “dominant majority”) does not wish to hear. Ask the prophet Amos! Ask Isaiah! Ask Jeremiah! Ask Jesus! Ask Luther! Ask Gandhi! Ask King! Each of these prophets was rejected, some assassinated, by the society which nurtured them.

This church has a laudable record in sounding forth the prophetic voice of Unitarian Universalism. It has supported the aims and agenda of Planned Parenthood of southwest Florida. It has attempted to extend the vote to persons who might otherwise have been forgotten. It stood firm against an attempt by the religious right to introduce a Bible course in the public schools. And, I take it, that its prophetic voice would be heard if there were attempts to post the Ten Commandments in government buildings or there were efforts to approve of prayer at graduation ceremonies and football games. But what about other issues? Is our prophetic voice being sounded on global warming, on drilling in the Gulf of Mexico and the Alaskan Wildlife Refuge, on the gluttonous consumption by the rich nations (read, United States) at the expense of the poor nations, on the continued exploitation of women—not only in distant lands, but right here in the US, indeed right here in Ft. Myers? And what about this present necessary war (what an oxymoron)? Where are our prophetic voices that might speak to us about truth and meaning, about peace and non-violence, about compassion and dignity?

After attending General Assembly this past summer in Cleveland, I came to the conclusion that the prophetic voices which will save us will arise from the youth. At GA the UU youth were a motley crew of orange-haired, nose-ringed, grotesquely tattooed, sexually liberated individuals. There were, of course, several that “looked normal.” But . . . all of them had a clear focus on the issues which will affect their lives, and . . . they had a passion that was unequalled in recent memory. I am happy to say that our own youth (without the orange hair and the tattoos) share in this focus and this passion. We should give them all the support we can muster. (And we should try to understand them). They are our prophetic voice. We should try to listen to them.

Finally, a Unitarian Universalist is one who possesses an holistic vision—a vision of the entire universe. Our educational system has succeeded in teaching us how to break things into parts, how to distinguish this from that, how to analyze a cell, a leaf or a rock. It has not been so successful in teaching us about the “whole.” It has not entertained the possibility that the whole may indeed be greater than the sum of all the components described in our textbooks or viewed in our microscopes. To paraphrase St. Paul a bit, a human being is not just an eye, an ear, an arm or a leg. A human being is a whole entity, manifesting an unspeakable nobility and worthy of a reverential respect. But, lest our egos become over-inflated, let us remind ourselves that the same is true for the animals that surround us. They are “whole” and they deserve our protection. The same is true for the plants. The same is true for the earth. The same is true for the universe. Indeed, I suspect that if we could be magically transported to the edge of the universe (wherever that might be), and there reach down and pick up one grain of atom-dust, we would discover that there is a connection. The same mystery that is present in the atom-dust is the mystery that pulsates through us. We are one, we are whole. Both the atom-dust and we are travelers in this marvelous, awesome, sacred circle that we call “existence.”

So, who is a Unitarian Universalist? Certainly, not one who subscribes to a creed, because creeds are too confining. Certainly, not one who invests authority in a single book, because books are too parochial. Certainly, not one who values tradition, because Unitarians reject tradition, even their own. A Unitarian Universalist is a person with an inquiring mind, a prophetic voice and an holistic vision. A Unitarian Universalist is one who, armed with these tools, creates truth and meaning in life, with the hope that these will manifest to us the glory and grandeur of the great cosmic circle.

May we step into the circle and be in a spirit of meditation.