A few weeks ago, the children and adults in our Religious Exploration program enjoyed their "Meet the Principle Day"—not to be confused with going to the principal's office. It was one of several Sundays when they kicked off their exploration of a new UU principle, as they move through each of the seven principles gradually over the course of the year. On December 12, it was the day to "meet" Principle #3, which states, in the children's terms, "We should accept one another and keep on learning together," and in the formal, official terms, "Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations."
Our Director of Religious Exploration, Megan Gleeson, and a cadre of creative volunteers conceived of the introduction to this principle by creating several separate rooms or spaces, each dedicated to a different form of spiritual exploration—in one room they practiced music and meditation, in another, attunement to nature and the body, and a third room was dedicated to creativity and art.
The experiences in each room were facilitated by adults who have a special love for or expertise in that particular kind of exploration. The kids divided up, went into different rooms, playing with the resources or entering into the exercises that were offered.
Then they all came back together and talked about their experiences: Why were they drawn to one room or another? How were their ways of exploring spirituality different from one another? What does it mean that we may be drawn to different forms of spiritual process and yet are also part of one community of spirit?
As in the children's program, here in our worship in the sanctuary we are also moving through the principles over the course of the year, taking a little time every few weeks to focus on one of them. Thus far in adult worship we have also explored the first two UU principles—"the inherent dignity and worth of every person," and "justice, equity and compassion in human relations." Today is our day to meet Principle #3: "Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations."
The third principle has two interconnected affirmations—one encourages building an atmosphere of mutual acceptance in a community where there can be significant diversity in belief among members, as well as the simple challenge of being unique, flawed, and complex persons in relationship with one another. So, building an atmosphere of mutual acceptance is the first affirmation here. The second is creating an environment where individuals and where the community as a whole will flourish spiritually. I'm going to spend a little time looking at the connection between these two affirmations.
The actual statement of the principle—Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations—strikes me, and perhaps it strikes you, as a rather obvious and even anemic affirmation, and perhaps a rather low bar to set for ourselves. How do we take it upon ourselves to raise the bar so that this principle becomes an enlivening force?
As we move through each of the principles, we are challenged to digest their meaning, to unpack and explore their implications, so that they come alive and become real for us, and I believe that is also possible here.
Acceptance of one another could be merely an empty politeness in most of our interactions, keeping things smooth and friendly amid our many foibles. We all have puzzling behaviors that can get in our own way, or in each other's way, or in the way of positive accomplishment. We all need one another's forbearance. We all have our moments when we say something thoughtless or hurtful and will be in need of the forgiveness of others. We all have our weird little quirks, our pet peeves, our idiosyncrasies or limitations that require mutual tolerance.
Is this what is meant by accepting one another? That we take each other's strangeness in stride? That we overlook the things in others that are annoying or difficult? That we show forbearance, kindness and understanding, knowing how imperfect we ourselves are, investing in the spirit of goodwill, because, goodness knows, we'll need it from others sooner or later? Does acceptance of one another mean that we merely bypass friction as much as possible so that we can all get along?
Yes, it will mean all of those things. But none of us needs a sermon to remind us it's okay to do what we all do anyway, and what we generally do habitually and unconsciously in order to keep things pleasant and fun and light.
Acceptance of one another can be a passive state, a peaceful but superficial coexistence that doesn't really make contact and doesn't risk anything. But is that why we are in spiritual community? Is that why we are here? Did we not each, in our own way, seek this out as a place where we would truly connect, where we would risk relationship, where we would feel called out into a larger life, where we would come to matter to others and they to us, where we would grow and experience life more fully?
Acceptance of one another can become a transformative and spiritually opening process when it involves an encounter that pushes the edges of comfort. It becomes transformative when we take a chance and reveal something about ourselves, or when we are willing to be awake and sensitive and profoundly open to another person's disclosure.
Acceptance of one another takes on purposeful meaning if we have touched into to a deeper level of relationship in which we have grappled with difference, perhaps with conflict, or disagreement, if we have had a difficult or even hurtful encounter with another, but have addressed it openly and worked it through.
In such encounters, if each is willing to risk a little, then we find ourselves in interesting territory. A principle of mutual acceptance, taken into the process of encounter, allows for each person to speak and to be heard, allows each to ask questions and perhaps challenge the other, yet without the implication that either is wrong, nor with the demand that either one change. When we can be together and openhearted in our difference, without feeling threatened by that difference, we have an opportunity for sparkling new awareness—what theologian Henry Nelson Wieman called a moment of creative interchange, a moment when a spark of divine creativity is lit.
In 2005 the Unitarian Universalist Association published a study of our congregations called "Engaging Our Theological Diversity" which looks at how congregations that hold such a wide spectrum of belief in their memberships function in community together.
One respondent in the study was quoted as saying:
We deepen our wisdom in community when we share our stories and engage in dialogue across our differences…. UU's discern where our hearts are moved in common, and we grow and connect there. Differences are honored, discussed, and shared, but do not limit our forward motion of spirit. (Anonymous)
This focus on the power of dialogue in community to help UU's distill truth actually has very, very deep roots. Theologian and minister Alice Blair Wesley, in her study of the history of covenant in UU tradition, describes our 17th-century ancestors as dedicated to that very practice. She shows, for example, how church records in Dedham, Mass., describe in detail the house meetings the founders held in 1637 to develop the foundations of their covenant:
Each one could, as they chose, speak to the questions, or raise a closely related question and speak to that, or state any objections or doubts concerning what any other had said, 'so it were humbly & with a teachable hart, not with any mind of caviling or contradicting.' In other words … here we speak our own understandings and our doubts [without] arguing. The record reports that all their 'reasonings' were 'very peaceable, loving & tender, and much to edification.'
Let's take this in: 'Their reasonings were very peaceable, loving & tender, and much to edification.'
Could this be a way of saying that they practiced "acceptance of one another and encouragement toward growth"?
I have witnessed such discerning interactions here among members of the Theodore Parker community many times, when important decisions needed to be made, or when a group of people came together to do intentional reflection in a class or in a book discussion. As a witness to sharing and discerning that was "peaceable and loving yet much to edification," I felt my heart lifted and gratified to be a part of such a thoughtfully listening and learning community.
At other times, I've also felt that we tend to hang out in easy, breezy territory, or that we are a bit uncertain as to how to move beyond coffee-hour conversation or meeting-agenda conversation into deeper and richer encounters with one another.
Coffee hour and committee meetings are simply entrées into relationship or vehicles for collaboration with others. I'm going to presume that what we're truly seeking is to know others more deeply, to be known by one another, and to be about the work of transformation and healing, of self and world. In other words, we are seeking to grow spiritually, and desire that our faith community will aid us in that.
Many of us may also be here because we long to be active in the work of justice making, and we have come into the church with the hope of finding companions in that work. There are many ways to be active in justice and social change that are independent of religious community and disconnected from spiritual language and practice. And yet, we have come here, to the church, to do it, not somewhere else. This points to the possibility of holding spiritual practice together with justice work for the deeper power of both—indeed, it suggests that justice work can and should be spiritually transformative, and also that a just world is one informed by and infused with spiritual values.
And so this third principle, Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations, speaks to an essential heart of why we come together. We want to belong, to be held even in our weakness and eccentricities, to be known for the best and most shining that we are, and to be encouraged always to grow more fully into that best self.
Acceptance creates a container of safety and tenderness and respect that allows us to venture more courageously into relationship with each other and with our own spiritually expanded selves.
Now, that inner, independent work of spiritual growth is so varied from person to person, and it is guided by our individual natures. If we took a poll across this whole congregation, we would find as many paths through which we nurture this process in our lives as there are individuals sitting here in the pews.
This is one of the great challenges in a UU congregation. We do not really offer a single method of spiritual growth, other than this work of encounter and sharing, of companionship in the journey and engagement with each other amid differences. And yet there is a way in which being in community and sharing our paths can amplify and encourage the personal journey that we are each making.
In isolation, our spiritual explorations have less meaning. In isolation, we ourselves cannot fully perceive how we are being awakened or to what extent we are being transformed by our spiritual practice.
All spiritual traditions include both inner work, done in solitude, and communal work that utilizes the challenges and benefits of relationship, providing us with constant opportunities to practice. Without the individual work, our spiritual lives will lack depth, but without community, our spiritual lives will become self-absorbed and will lack significance and contact with reality.
It is through coming back into communication, back into the practice of love-in-relation that the real and ultimate purpose of the spiritual life becomes manifest.
May this community be a place where we practice a deeply appreciative acceptance of one another. May we be engaged and respectful witnesses of each other's process, seeking mutual understanding and self-understanding. May we create an environment where all who enter this community feel stirred and strengthened to quest for spiritual discovery and growth.
CLOSING WORDS
By John O'Donohue
May you listen to your longing to be true and free,
And may you also know the shelter of home;
May the circles of your belonging be large enough
for the dreams of your soul;
May you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering
in your heart that something good is going to happen to you;
May you find a harmony between your soul and your life;
May the house of your soul never become a haunted place;
May you know the eternal longing that is at the heart of time;
May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within,
and when you behold others;
May you be free from the prisons of guilt, fear,
disappointment, and despair,
And may you never place walls between the light and yourself;
May you allow the family of life to gather you, mind you,
and embrace you in belonging.