Does Religious Humanism Have a Soul?
Rev. Mark Stringer
First Unitarian Church of Des Moines
12/8/02

 

Meditation for 12/08/02

Life of our shared life…

With the sun cutting a lower angle across the sky,

with the sunset coming sooner each day
and the night growing longer;

with the ponds and streams beginning to form their icy winter crust,

and the shadows of the now barren trees

stretching across the gray brown lawns

that were soft with life just a few short weeks ago…

We sit together again,
silently breathing in and out,

feeling the rise and fall of our lungs, the thumping of our hearts,

the weight of our bodies in the chairs…

feeling our presence in this good place, with these good people.

In the midst of all the distractions and uncertainties of our lives,

how rare it can be to take a moment for ourselves

to be together with others who share our need
for community and for quiet...

to be together with others who, like us, can so easily forget

the miraculous gift it is that we are alive and together this day,

in this familiar place where people have been gathering for years…

gathering to celebrate in song and spoken word and silence

this wretched and magnificent life.

This life of misery and of delight,

this life of boredom and of surprise,

this life of pain and of possibility.

As we breathe together in and out…in and out

May we soften the piercing chatter of our minds to a gentle hum

Soft enough to allow us some space…

Space to forgive ourselves and each other

for all that we have not done,

for all the unspoken words that needed to be said,
and for all the wounds that are yet to be salved;

Space to rediscover the hope that must not be forgotten.

The hope often buried beneath our disappointments.

The hope that is our greatest resource in times of struggle,

The hope that reminds us that we do have choices,

Choices in how we view our circumstances,

Choices in how we participate in our lives,

And choices in how we contribute to the lives of others
and this world that we share.

Let us be silent for a time as we breathe in and out
our shared breath.  The breath of life. 

(silence) Amen. 

 

Readings

The first reading this morning is from philosopher, writer, and former UU minister, Robert Fulghum.  He writes:

 

“… ‘soul’ is a word I rarely use.  I understand that within the context of Christian theology, the soul is the immaterial essence of a person that precedes one’s earthly existence and continues after that existence has concluded.  But this is not the meaning of ‘soul’ as I would use it.  I don’t want to lead anyone to think that I believe in a separate entity, called the ‘soul’ that needs care and feeding, as does the family dog. …‘Soul’ is found in the quality of what I am doing.  If my activities have a sense of truth and integrity, if they are deep in meaning, then they are rich in soul, and so am I.  Thus, for me, ‘nourishing the soul’ means making sure I attend to those things that give…life richness and depth of meaning.”[1]

 

The second reading is from John Dietrich, who served as minister of the First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis from 1916 to 1938, and who along with Curtis Reese, is acknowledged as a father of religious humanism.  Dietrich wrote:

“Instead of trying to get ready to emigrate into some unknown world we should do our best to make life in this world so beautiful, so exalted, so free, so attractive, as to make the people in the next world, if there is such a world, long to come and live with us.”[2]

 

Sermon

Does religious humanism have a soul? 

I know we Unitarian Universalists believe that to question truly is an answer, but “Does religious humanism have a soul?” seems like a rather absurd question to be asking.  What does a word like “soul”—a word heavy with ancient baggage loaded on by Western religious tradition—have to do with humanism—a branch of religious thought that many equate with atheism, ultra-rationalism, and a general lack of tolerance for anything that cannot be proven by the scientific method?

 

“Does religious humanism have a soul?” is a question that combines two seemingly irreconcilable concepts—humanism and soul—and therefore is a question that, on the surface, may not even warrant an answer beyond a condescending roll of the eyes.  A question not unlike “Would Superman want Kryptonite for Christmas?” or “Isn’t Henry Kissinger a great choice to head up the 9/11 investigation?” or “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does the Bush administration celebrate?”  OK, scratch that last question…there is apparently nothing irreconcilable about trees falling and the Bush administration.

 

I digress.

 

Yes, for some of you, to ask “Does religious humanism have a soul?” might seem like nothing more than an opportunity for your minister to practice some intellectual gymnastics, a chance to dump out a bunch of jigsaw pieces that may be from altogether different puzzles and to try to fit them together in twenty minutes or less…and you may be right.  But then again, you can be sure that I would not have selected this question as my theme today if I didn’t have at least a vague idea of how I would answer it.  So I invite you to join me now as I attempt to draw a connection between two seemingly disparate things: humanism and the soul with the hope that it may help you to consider and reflect upon your own theology, spirit, and/or soul.

 

I will begin by discussing just what I mean by religious humanism.

 

My understanding of religious humanism is much like the perspectives of the Unitarians of the early twentieth century who first gave voice to the modern Humanist movement.  Two of the primary pioneers were ministers: John Dietrich, who served the First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis, and Curtis Reese, who served for four years as minister of this church over 75 years ago. Unbeknownst to each other, Dietrich and Reese were simultaneously preaching humanistic messages to their congregations.  Dietrich calling his approach “humanism;” Reese calling his approach the “religion of Democracy.”  It took a 1917 meeting of the Western Unitarian Conference, held here in Des Moines, for the two men to realize they were barking up the same tree.  Before long, they found themselves embroiled on one side of a humanist-theist debate in Unitarianism that would last for twenty years, the remnants of which we are probably still working through. During this controversy, Reese drew a distinction between theocratic religion, in which God is the autocrat, and humanistic religion in which the people are rulers of their own affairs.  He did not deny the existence of God; in fact he encouraged humanists to remain open to the idea.  He did, however, seek to build a liberal religion that “would not be shaken even if the very thought of God were to pass away” and believed that when humans accepted their roles as “co-worker[s] in cosmic processes” they would discover “spiritual experience deep and abiding.”[3]  Dietrich also did not seek to deny God; he just thought the emphasis on God was misplaced.  He wrote, “The kind of world we live in depends not upon some God outside of man [sic], but upon man himself, or, as some of us would put it, upon the God that dwells in humanity.  It matters not which way you put it, the responsibility clearly rests upon man.” [4]

 

I admit, to define humanism is a tricky endeavor these days because there are quite a few misconceptions to overcome.  Humanists are believed by many to be dogmatic atheistic philosophers devoid of feeling who are more interested in denying the spiritual lives of others than in articulating redemptive solutions for themselves.  Humanists are often perceived as overly sensitive dictionary hawks who, like ever-ready Gestapo officers for Godlessness, lie in wait to discover and lambaste those who would dare articulate theistic ideas in their presence.

 

Now why would people have that impression of humanists? 

 

Probably because there are some humanists out there doing these things…bristling at those who do not see the world with the same great reasoned intellect as theirs.  Much like tunnel-vision dogmatists from Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, and other world religions, these blowhard humanists destroy their own cause…insuring that not only will people seek to deny their perspective, they will actually work to destroy it. Dietrich saw these folks coming:  He was concerned about the possibility that people might over-emphasize the individualistic aspects of humanism, stating that if individualism became too important, “mere eccentricity or crankiness” would be the result.[5]

 

In Unitarian Universalism, these “cranky” fundamentalist humanists have been stirring the pot for years.  Is it a big surprise, then, that there are less than 300,000 UUs in the world?  Makes you wonder how many potential contributors to our liberal religious movement have been driven away over the years by terrorists posing as humanists? We can see the destructive impact of dogmatic humanists in the reactivity (as I call it) now exhibited by the UUA [the Unitarian Universalist Association: the resource body for our independent UU churches].   Rarely does a piece of information come from Boston without overt references to faith…or spirituality…or even God…God forbid!  Even the UUA, it would seem, is out to discount, if not eliminate, the humanism that drew so many of us to Unitarian Universalism in the first place. 

 

Let’s pause for a moment to catch our breath and to remind ourselves just what humanism is all about. As I list off some of its basic principles, see how they match up with your own, whether you believe you are a humanist or not.

 

--Religious humanism is an approach to religion that encourages people to think for themselves: to challenge, question, and doubt at will. 

--Humanists rely on reason and experience--particularly what can be perceived with the senses and what can be understood in the mind--as the most reliable guides for making choices and basing their actions in the world.  

--For humanists, ideas and knowledge are not limited to a particular canon of literature or a particular world-view; they have unlimited sources. 

--Humanists know that humans are not perfect and that human reason is fallible.  Therefore, knowledge, social policies, and moral reasoning are always subject to revision as evidence and experience warrant.
--Humanists sacrifice the easy certainty and felt-security of emphasis on God or other super-human realities in recognition that only humans can offer solutions to the problems that have plagued them throughout time…problems most typically brought on, of course, by humans themselves. 

--Humanists choose to focus on this life because the here-and-now is all that we can know for sure.  To place too great an emphasis on the possibility of supernatural powers or a supposed after-life would be to inevitably neglect that which can be done in this life…the only life we may ever know. 

--And humanists are generally opposed to any absolute moral systems that would imply that there is a pre-existing ideal for humans to live up to.  Ethics are ever-evolving and must be based on the continuous revelation that emerges from our shared lives.[6]

 

As I think about these basic principles of humanism, I find them to be extremely compatible with our modern day Unitarian Universalist thought.  And yet, there are some who would have you believe that humanism is dying, that it is a dinosaur from the modernist era that is losing its place in UU churches of the 21^st century because, they say, it is not spiritual enough for today’s religious seekers.

 

As Bart Simpson would say “Au contraire, mon frere.”   With due respect, I must humbly disagree.

 

There is no way I could count all the times I have heard people out there in the real world tell me what they believe (people tend to do that when they find out I’m a minister, you know.)  Most of the time, if they don’t already have a church home, they share with me humanistic principles.

 

That’s why I have to believe that the death knell for humanism is not warranted, nor is it realistic.  I contend there are countless seekers who would respond to the kind of humanist message delivered over 75 years ago by Dietrich and Reese.

 

Here are some of the arguments I’ve heard against humanism, with responses from Dietrich and Reese:

 

ARGUMENT:  Humanism is too close to atheism, and people today don’t want atheism.

 

Humanism, properly understood, is not atheism.

Listen to Dietrich: “Atheism, I believe, is properly used as a denial of God; and my attitude towards the idea of God is not that of denial at all; it is that of inquiry.  I am entirely open-minded and not dogmatic toward the idea of God.”[7] 

Hear Reese: “There is not the slightest ground for calling Humanists Atheistic….  The Unitarian discussion might be summed up as ‘Theism or no Theism,’ but not as ‘God or no God,’ since most of the Humanists hold some one of the several non-Theistic theories of God.”[8]

 

ARGUMENT:  People want spirituality and humanism is not spiritual.

 

Dietrich believed that the nurturing of a spiritual life was essential to humanism, for the primary means by which one could become capable of effecting change in the world was through the development of one’s inward power. Ways to nurture this inward power include writing down ideas, expressing oneself artistically, contributing to discussions, listening to and helping others, and working to improve conditions for one’s earthly companions.[9]

 

ARGUMENT: Humanism is too self-focused. People want a religion that encourages them to participate in the creation of better world. 

 

Dietrich and Reese saw the human effort to deal with society’s problems as one of the foundational elements of humanism.  Dietrich wrote,  “If we leave our social ills to be cured by providence, they will never be cured.  Experience has taught us that much.  The true trust is not in providence, but in human endeavor.”[10]

Reese agreed, believing that Humanism was a religion that would help people move “away from the exalted mood, the otherworldly; and toward the ethical, the social and the worldly; away from religion conceived as one of man’s concerns, and toward religion conceived as man’s one concern.”[11]

 

In fact, the basic principles of humanism I have described are quite accurate descriptions of Unitarian Universalism itself, despite the paranoid perception of many that the UUA is trying to get rid of the humanists.  The UUA cannot get rid of the humanists because humanistic principles are too embedded in UUism itself.

 

Let’s look at make-up of our congregations.  According to a recent poll, if we were to ask 100 Unitarian Universalists to place themselves in the theological category that most closely matches their own (excepting Unitarian Universalist), 5 would call themselves mystics, 10 would be Christians, 13 would call themselves theists, 19 would label themselves as earth-centered, and 46 of the 100—nearly half--would identify as humanists.[12]  Now expecting UUs to identify with only one theological position is inherently unscientific…kind of like asking people to choose just one inspirational book, or just one favorite piece of music. Indeed, for many of us, our personal theology is fluid…ever-changing…which is why we probably ended up in a UU church in the first place. 

 

As I think about my own theology, I see a mixture of many elements. When I observe the extraordinary mix of colors during a December sunset, I can’t help but believe in the divinity of the earth.  When I look back on times of confusion or despair, when a spark of intuition or inspiration helped lead me to a healthy decision or path, I know that a part of me identifies as a mystic.  And when I think about the essence of the message of an extraordinary teacher named Jesus, I know that deep within me, I am part Christian, too.

 

But when it comes right down to it, if I had to choose only one identifier, I would probably choose humanist.  I share this information with you with some trepidation…not because I don’t think humanism is a good descriptor for my beliefs, but because I wouldn’t want you to pigeonhole me there.  Maybe this story will help you understand: 

 

One day a UU minister I have met was approached by a member of the congregation he then served, who with great earnestness asked, “I need to know.  Are you a humanist or a theist?”  Somewhat surprised, the minister replied, “Why on earth do you need to know that?” 

 

The member answered, “I just do.  It’s very important to me that I know where you are coming from.  So, please, tell me, if you are a humanist or a theist.” 

 

The minister rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, and responded, “I guess that all depends…” 

 

“Depends on what?” the member interrupted. 

 

“Well, it all depends on what you are.”

 

Becoming exasperated now, the member shot back, “Why does it matter what I think?  I am asking you what you think!” 

 

“It does matter what you think,” the minister replied.  Then he put his hand on the member’s shoulder and continued, “If you are a humanist, then I am a theist.  If you are a theist, then I am a humanist.”

 

I appreciate this story because I find it speaks to the need for all of us, in the various ministries of our lives, to teach ourselves to be flexible…even playful…in our theological views, to be open to the realities and perspectives of others, to not focus too much on the details of our personal differences, but to accept that our own beliefs are just one way to view a mystery that is inherently too big to fully comprehend.  I believe that humanism is uniquely positioned to accept these different realities because it doesn’t seek to deny revelation or new information; on the contrary, it leaves room for it.   In fact, I think my humanistic perspective has helped me be more open to those of other religious persuasions because it has taught me to see how religion is a human project aimed at describing something too great for simple description.  

 

One summer a few years back, I worked as a chaplain in a Chicago hospital.  During my three months at Rush Presbyterian St. Luke’s, I rarely had the chance to discuss theology with Unitarian Universalists.  Usually, I found myself sitting with Christians who looked to me to lead them through the rituals of their own faiths.  At first I was terrified.  How could I maintain my integrity if I had to lead others in prayers I didn’t believe?  Once I found myself in these situations, however, the prayers actually came easily.  I could see the meaning that prayer provided some of these patients.  I knew that my role was to be their companion, not their theology teacher or accuser.  And I knew that I was maintaining my integrity because I was choosing to relate to their humanity; I was allowing myself to enter into their piece of the mystery of our shared life.  I knew I was doing something right when one morning, after I had spent twenty minutes with a patient, he whispered to me, “I’m so glad they sent you here and not one of those damned liberals.”

 

I’d like to think that it was my UU theology that enabled me to meet the needs of the patients I served.  And let’s face it, our modern day UU theology is one steeped in religious humanism.

 

Now let me shift gears here and spend a little time talking about what I mean by the word “soul.”

 

I asked Denny to read that passage from Robert Fulghum because I believe it hits on what I mean when I talk about soul.  I, like Fulghum, do not use soul in reference to a presence or certain something that is somehow separate from physical reality, or an entity that lives on after our physical lives have ended.  I don’t discount that an immortal spirit is possible, I just choose not to focus on the notion of an immortal soul because it seems to me purely speculative and therefore inconsequential (at best) as I greet each day and choose how I shall live in the here and now. 

 

When I talk about soul, I’m talking about life itself, the felt experience of being alive and receptive to the universe as we know it. The depth and breadth of my soul then is equivalent to the amount to which I can embrace life…not only my own life, but the lives of others who share my world.  The depth of my soul is equal to the extent to which I can accept life for what it is: a clearly finite and extraordinary mystery (indeed, perhaps the greatest mystery of them all)…a remarkable opportunity to think and to feel, to experience and to discover, to love and to care and to cooperate. I know those with more orthodox views on the meaning of “soul” may believe that I am simply mangling the meaning of the word just to fit my purposes.  And they may be right.  But I contend that choosing to discard the immaterial aspect in my definition of soul is no more of a stretch than leaving it in.

 

I like A. Powell Davies’ famous line: “Life is just a chance to grow a soul.”  I hear embedded in those words recognition of the limits of life, as well as the challenge to live life to the fullest… to, as long as physically possible, never cease in growing and learning and becoming.

 Life is just a chance…
an always fleeting opportunity…a precious occasion to choose to believe that life is not to be wasted or discarded. 

Life is just a chance to grow a soul,

to engage in living with the expectation that there is always more for us to learn and discover and share with one another.

 

Curtis Reese saw Humanism as a means to do this…a means to grow one’s soul. He believed that by putting aside ancient dogma, people would be able to focus more on the present realities, creating thereby a new religious consciousness focused on (in his words) “the building of human souls for worthy habitation in a world of hard facts, and the constant remaking of the actual world about us and the ideal world beyond us.”[13]

 

Seems like a good time to return to the question of the morning: Does religious humanism have a soul?

 

If we are talking about the humanism that leads people to take responsibility for this life, the humanism that is open to the perspective of others, the humanism that says religion is only as useful as the degree to which it contributes to the well-being of all our earthly companions,

I must answer yes, a thousand times yes.  Not only does it have a soul, but in this pluralistic society brimming with conflicting dogmas and violence, it may be needed more than ever.

 

As one of my predecessors to this pulpit, Curtis Reese, wrote:

 

“[Humanism]… understands spirituality to be [humans] at [their] best, sane in mind, healthy in body, dynamic in personality; honestly facing the hardest facts, conquering and not fleeing from [their] gravest troubles; committed to the most worthwhile causes, loyal to the best ideals; ever hoping, striving, and achieving.  To know one’s self as inherently worthful, actually to find fullest expression in the widest human service and consciously to become a co-worker with cosmic processes, is spiritual experience deep and abiding.”[14]

 

Or as I would put it: Religious humanism, embraced as a way of life whereby we are committed to improving conditions in our own lives and the lives of those who share our world, does indeed have a soul.  But, as is the case will all religious perspectives, only if we choose to make it so.  Only if we choose to make it so.

 

 

Closing Words

No matter where you landed in the discussion this morning, let us remember the words of Rev. William E. Gardner, who said

“We all have two religions: the religion we talk about and the religion we live.  It is our task to make the difference between these two as small as possible.”