SERMON: "Conversation in Malibu"
Rev. Paul Beedle
March 11, 2007
There's an old joke you've probably heard about Unitarian Universalists: that given the choice between going to heaven and going to a discussion about heaven, we'd choose the discussion. I believe we're more sophisticated than that. For example, I belong to a Unitarian Universalist ministers' study group that meets in Malibu, California. We chose both.
I was with the Malibu group this past week. Our topic was “A Unitarian Universalist Response to Fundamentalism: What Do We Bring to the Public Square?” It seems to me that “fundamentalism” is a term that does not have a precise meaning. Even historians are inconsistent about it. The word is associated with a series of twelve pamphlets bankrolled by a pair of wealthy conservative Christians from Los Angeles and published for worldwide distribution between 1910 and the start of the First World War. These pamphlets, titled The Fundamentals, are said to mark the beginning of the Christian fundamentalist movement. The fundamentalist movement, in turn, is associated with the “Five Points” of Christian belief adopted by the northern branch of the Presbyterian denomination just as the first of those pamphlets was published.
These were different from the “Five Points of Calvinism” that Unitarians reacted against a century earlier. The Five Points of Calvinism were: that all people are by nature sinful and unworthy to be saved, that God chose to save only some people, that only those people were saved by Jesus's death, that God's power is irresistible, and that once you're saved you're always saved. The “Five Points of Calvinism” were all about how God saves people.
What are the “Five Points” of fundamentalism? Historians differ. Sources in my personal library [1] agree on four of the five: the inerrancy of scripture, the virgin birth of Jesus, that he died for our sins, and that he will be resurrected in the same body. The fifth point, depending on whose book you read, is either that the doctrine of the Trinity is true, that Jesus's miracles really happened, or that he will return (“the second coming”). These “Five Points” are all about what people should believe.
I found The Fundamentals online [2] and examined the table of contents. The inerrancy of scripture was certainly a concern, and with it an uneasiness about science. The twelve pamphlets contained 90 articles, a quarter of which were about the truth of scripture. But beyond that the topics covered a range of theological ideas and religious practices. Historian Sidney Ahlstrom has written that these pamphlets launched the fundamentalist movement “with dignity, breadth of subject matter, theoretical moderation, obvious conviction, and considerable intellectual power. ... The conservative case was firmly and honorably made. [An] important feature of the project was the way in which it created a kind of [bridge] between two fairly incompatible conservative elements: a denominational, seminary-oriented group, and a Bible institute group ... Despite clashing interpretations of countless scriptural passages ... the authors succeeded in forging an uneasy alliance to defend ... the Bible's literal inerrancy.” [3] Later, those who identified themselves as fundamentalist broke away from established denominations. Conservatives who stayed did not want to be called fundamentalists and started calling themselves evangelicals. So the term “fundamentalist” does not reflect a particular set of beliefs so much as an unwillingness to be in dialogue with people who disagree or to be influenced by their views. My friend Ned Wight, who is in the study group with me, described that kind of unwillingness as “holding their identity in a way that prevents building bridges to them.” An apt description, I thought.
A secular identity can be held the same way. It's not the difference between being religious or being secular that matters, but the difference between being willing or being unwilling to build bridges across differences. Amartya Sen, the economist and Nobel laureate, offers a helpful observation about the nature of secularism. “Secularism in the political – as opposed to ecclesiastical – sense requires the separation of the state from any particular religious order. This can be interpreted in at least two different ways. The first view [is] that the state [should] be equidistant from all religions – refusing to take sides and having a neutral attitude towards them. The second – more severe – view insists that the state must not have any relation at all with any religion. The equidistance must take the form ... of being altogether removed from each.” [4]
Sen says that between these “two principal approaches to secularism, focusing respectively on (1) neutrality between different religions, and (2) prohibition of religious associations in state activities[,] Indian secularism has tended to emphasize neutrality in particular, rather than prohibition in general. It is the `prohibitory' aspect that has been the central issue in the recent French decision to ban the wearing of headscarves by Muslim women students, on the ground that it violates secularism. ... [T]he banning of an individual's freedom to choose what to wear could not be justified on the ground of secularism as such when that principle is interpreted in terms of the need for the state to be neutral between different faiths [although] this could be taken to imply that state schools should not follow an asymmetrical policy of brandishing symbols from one religion, while excluding others, in the school's own display.” [5] Using Ned's idea, we might think of the state as having a secular identity that it needs to hold in a way that allows its citizens to build bridges to it.
Sen also writes about what he calls “the discipline of identity.” He writes that “we have to resist two unfounded but often implicitly invoked assumptions: (1) ... that we must have a single – or at least a principal and dominant – identity; and (2) ... that we `discover' our identity, with no room for any choice. ... Each of us invokes identities of various kinds in disparate contexts. ... [And] we do have the opportunity to determine the relative weights we would like to attach to our different identities. ... Identity is thus a quintessentially plural concept, with varying relevance of different identities in distinct contexts.”
Joseph Lumbard, an assistant professor at Brandeis University, thinks that “the rise of secularism has ... contributed, by way of militant and ignorant reaction, to the rise of fundamentalism. For the banners of fundamentalism,” he says, “invariably contain slogans against atheism and secularism, and draw many simple believers to them on that account.” [6] Lumbard writes: “The religious fundamentalism which is waxing in the modern world is vastly and qualitatively different from the traditional religion which is waning, and the difference between them is precisely that fundamentalism is opposed to all traditional `religious culture' as such (and therefore in the end bound to damage and impoverish religion as such).” [7] I can't help but think that the prohibitive type of secularism similarly damages and impoverishes traditional secular culture, which was meant to be the safe container that could unite us across religious differences. The secular and the religious are not supposed to be opposite poles.
Our time has been called “the age of sacred terror.” [8] Karen Armstrong responds: “The Terrorists feed on our fear. Fear is founded on ignorance. Our bridge is education. Building bridges is hard work. Often there is not even a foundation on which to build, just a hope that it can be done.” [9] In Malibu, my colleague Lone Jensen told us about Irshad Manji, a woman “who grew up in a Muslim family that fled Uganda after ... Idi Amin ... proclaimed Uganda to be for blacks only. ... [She] loved to question and enjoyed her freedom. At ten she attended a newly built Mosque and Madrassa [school], likely funded by Saudi money, and of the Wahabi conservative tradition. ... She was eventually expelled for exceessive questioning. [She] wanted pluralism and acceptance and denounced the unthinking conformity. She called loudly for reform. Reactions in the Muslim community were strong and angry.” She wrote a book called The Trouble With Islam Today: A Muslim's call for Reform in Her Faith. Khaleel Mohammed, an imam who teaches religion at San Diego State University, wrote the prologue for it. Here's what he wrote: “I should hate Irshad Manji. If Muslims listen to her they will stop listening to people like me who spent years at a traditional Islamic University. She threatens my male authority and says things about Islam that I wish were not true. She doesn't fear death except the kind that comes from shutting down one's brain. She is a lesbian and my Madrassa training has instilled in me that Allah hates gays and lesbians. I really should hate this woman. But then I look into my heart and engage my mind and I come to a discomforting conclusion. Irshad is telling the truth. And my God commands me to uphold the truth – which means I have to side with her.” [10] Now there's a bridge. This man is no fundamentalist, however conservative he might be. He knows how to hold his conservative identity in a way that allows the bridge to be built.
For her part, Irshad Manji holds her reformist zeal with respect for Muslim tradition and a willingness to learn from her opponents. “[O]ne letter taught her something important. What she thought of as Western, the questioning pluralism and the independent thought, had in fact deep roots within Islam itself. ... Did [she] know about Ijtihad? [the writer asked.] Not Jihad but Ijtihad, the Islamic tradition of independent reasoning that allows every Muslim, male, female, old and young, gay and straight, to update his or her own religious practice in light of contemporary circumstances.” [11] Lone told us of another part of the Islamic heritage called “the `ihsani intellectual tradition.' The word ihsan is the noun form of the verb ahsana, which means to make beautiful, good, fine, or lovely. So,” Lone writes, “let us make our conversations good, fine and lovely. Keep saying that God's face is merciful and not cruel. Learn the language of religious discourse. Hold our government accountable for their actions lest they give our pluralism and freedom, our democratic enlightenment values, a really bad name. Honor what is good within Islam. ... When the prophet Muhammad was asked by one of his followers: `What is religion?' ... He answered ... `Religion is one's regard and conduct towards others.'” [12]
“Let us make our conversations good, fine and lovely.” I think that can be Unitarian Univeralism's greatest gift to the wider world. The joke is, we'd rather go to a discussion about heaven than to heaven itself. And behind every joke is a truth. The truth is, we believe in conversation as a religious practice. Why else do so many of our congregations have something like our Adult Discussion Group, and book discussion groups, and covenant groups, and seminars on social issues, and even public events where controversial issues are talked about in facilitated conversations? All these different kinds of groups represent different ways to have a good conversation, and sometimes a fine or lovely one. I was present at a public program produced by a Unitarian Universalist congregation where a Palestinian woman – the daughter-in-law of a member of the congregation – gave a presentation and slide show about the walls that Israel has built between itself and the Palestinian communties. The program invited folks from the general public to speak and listen to one another on a very emotionally charged issue. A skilled member of the congregation facilitated, supporting respectful disagreement, frank but civil confrontation of views, and the courage of each participant's conscience. It was a powerful experience. I have no doubt it made a lasting difference in that community – not about attitudes toward Israel or Palestine, but about hope that it is possible to create a safe container for such a difficult conversation.
I think that when we find ways like that to live our covenantal tradition in sight of the public square, opening and holding a space for deep listening and courageous speaking, we present our most precious and powerful response to fundamentalism. Essayist Marilynne Robinson has written that “[i]n a democracy, abdications of conscience are never trivial. They demoralize politics, debilitate candor, and disrupt thought.” [13] And she says: “courage is rarely expressed except where there is sufficient consensus to support it.” [14] Suppose we made it our specialization to support conscience and courage in the public square? Suppose we did it in a way that helped public discourse to be good, fine or lovely more of the time?
“Building bridges is hard work. Often there is not even a foundation on which to build, just a hope that it can be done.” Let us work with our neighbors to create the foundations. May we find ways together to offer the hope. So may it be. Amen.
[1] Sidney E. Ahlstrom, A Religious History of the American People (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1972); Edwin Scott Gaustad, A Religious History of America (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1990); Van A. Harvey, A Handbook of Theological Terms (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1964); and Clifton E. Olmstead, History of Religion in the United States (Englewood Cliffs NJ: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1960).
[2] http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Parthenon/6528/fundcont.htm
[3] Sidney Ahlstrom, A Religious History of the American People, p. 816.
[4] Amartya Sen, The Argumentative Indian (New York: Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, 2005), pp. 295-6.
[5] ibid, pp. 19-21.
[6] Joseph E. B. Lumbard, ed., Islam, Fundamentalism, and the Betrayal of Tradition: Essays by Western Muslim Scholars (Bloomington IN: World Wisdom, Inc., 2004); cited in the Rev. Lone Jensen, “Unitarian Universalism's Response to Islam.”
[7] ibid.
[8] Daniel Benjamin and Steven Simon wrote a book with that title (New York: Random House, 2002).
[9] cited in the Rev. Lone Jensen, “Unitarian Universalism's Response to Islam.”
[10] the Rev. Lone Jensen, “Unitarian Universalism's Response to Islam.”
[11] ibid.
[12] ibid.
[13] Marilynne Robinson, The Death of Adam (New York: Picador, 1998), p. 263.
[14] ibid., p. 255.