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Door-to-Door
Religion November 4 & 5, 2006
"What
do you get when you cross a Unitarian
Universalist with a Jehovah's Witness? Someone
who knocks on your door, and when you open it,
has nothing to say."
Call
to Gather here we are, in this place, Together yet again… Together to celebrate our lives and to mourn our losses Together to ground our confusion and to share our joy Together to ponder the mystery and to make sense of the senseless Together
to wonder and to wander down the various paths
of our living And maybe creating some new visions to carry with us for the days ahead. In our time together then… “May
we be reminded of our highest aspirations, May
we know once again that we are not isolated
beings Responsive Reading “Religion” by Vincent B. Silliman (#466 in Singing the Living Tradition)
Let it be a voice of renewing challenge to the best we have and may be; let it be a call to generous action.
Let religion be to us a dissatisfaction with things that are, which bids us serve more eagerly the true and right.
Let it be the sorrow that opens for us the way of sympathy, understanding, and service to suffering humanity.
Let religion be to us the wonder and lure of that which is only partly known and understood:
An eye that glories in nature’s majesty and beauty, and a heart that rejoices in deeds of kindness and of courage.
Let religion be to us security and serenity because of its truth and beauty, and because of the enduring worth and power of the loyalties which it engenders;
Let it be to us hope and purpose, and a discovering of opportunities to express our best through daily tasks:
Religion, uniting us with all that is admirable in human beings everywhere;
Holding before our eyes a prospect of the better life for humankind, which each may help to make actual.
Reading “the lesson of the moth” by Don Marquis[1]
I was
talking to a moth thing for moths or why if that had been an uncovered candle instead of an electric light bulb you would now be a small unsightly cinder have you no sense
plenty of it he answered but at times we get tired of using it we get bored with the routine and crave beauty and excitement fire is beautiful and we know that if we get too close it will kill us but what does that matter it is better to be happy for a moment and be burned up with beauty than to live a long time and be bored all the while so we wad all our life up into one little roll and then we shoot the roll that is what life is for it is better to be a part of beauty for one instant and then cease to exist than to exist forever and never be a part of beauty our attitude toward life is come easy go easy we are like human beings used to be before they became too civilized to enjoy themselves
and before i could argue him out of his philosophy he went and immolated himself on a patent cigar lighter i do not agree with him myself i would rather have half the happiness and twice the longevity
but at the same time i wish there was something i wanted as
badly as he wanted to fry himself Sermon A late June, summer morning. Sunlight spilling into the living room. My daughter and I are busy leafing through one of her picture books. I hear a voice coming from the enclosed porch. “Hello?” the voice says…a little shaky sounding, but kind enough to keep me from reacting with fear. The doors of our house are propped open this day, to give our cat the ability to come and go as she pleases. I lean forward in my chair and see a sharply dressed young man…peering into the window, offering a gentle wave.
I let out a sigh as I rise to greet the visitor, knowing that when we leave the door standing open, we can’t very well pretend that we aren’t home.
With the young man is a younger woman. Kids really, these two…maybe not even out of high school. Definitely dressed to impress, they could be straight out of an honor society photo.
I see the Bible in the young man’s hand and I feel my posture droop. I’m on vacation and the last thing I want to do is talk religion.
I remind myself to be kind…but not too kind. After all, I want to get back to enjoying my day as soon as possible…and, let’s face it: these two have other potential converts to get to. I don’t want them to waste their time on me.
Even as I plot my quick escape, I am taunted by my own self-proclaimed devotion to “creative interchange,” the theological idea that the divine exists as the result of “creative events” between people who engage with each other with the expectation that they might actually learn something from the encounter. “Source of human good, Mark…source of human gooooood!”
I offer them a smile and the kindest greeting I can muster, though I suspect that my disappointment at having my morning interrupted and my suspicion of their motives is evident in my body language.
The young man does the talking. He tells me that he and his sister are visiting the neighborhood sharing with folks about their faith as Jehovah’s Witnesses. He quickly opens his Bible and begins reading to me a familiar passage from the New Testament book of Mark in which Jesus is preaching about loving your neighbor as yourself. He tells me it’s one of his favorites. His sister nods her head.
I tell them, “Yes, I, like that passage, too. In fact,” I say, “I used it myself in a sermon earlier this year.”
“You did?”
“Yes,” I continue, “I am the minister of the Unitarian Universalist church in town. Do you know much about Unitarian Universalism?” They admit they don’t. So I tell them that one of the principles of our approach to religion has a lot to do with loving our neighbors as ourselves. “We call it respecting the inherent worth and dignity of all individuals,” I say.
I see that I have caught my visitors a little off guard with my talk of another religion, so I decide to keep talking. I admit that I don’t know much about their faith, either. “What do Jehovah’s Witnesses think of same-sex marriage?” I ask.
“Well, we try to avoid politics,” he answers.
“No,” I say, “I’m not talking about politics. I’m talking about your religion’s perspective on the rights of people to love who they are called to love…and to receive the same benefits for their commitment as straight couples. I have known a lot of same-sex couples and they are no different than my wife and I. And yet, I find, it is typically the voice of religion that says these couples are not worthy of the same rights as straight couples. I find that odd, considering so many of these religions proclaim devotion to passages like the one you just read to me. So I’m curious to know where Jehovah’s Witnesses stand on this issue.”
After listening to me carefully, the young man pauses before sharing that his faith teaches that homosexuality is wrong.
“I guess I just don’t get that,” I tell him. “No homosexuals I know are trying to get away with something. They are just living their lives as, we might say, God created them to be. What is wrong with that? What is wrong with love? And why in the world would we want to penalize or withhold rights from people because of who they love?”
The young man says that he and his sister have to get going, but that he will look into it and maybe come back some time to discuss it further. “That would be fine,” I say, sure that I will most likely never see him again.
Before they leave, they hand me a promotional flyer for a big, three-day Jehovah’s Witness district convention to be held later that week in Lincoln, Nebraska…and they tell me that they hope I will come.
Even as I marvel that they would invite me, a UU minister, to their three-day Jehovah’s Witness convention three hours away, I can’t help but like these two. There is no doubt that they have tried to listen to me and to treat me with respect, just as I hope I have done with them. Before they go, I ask them how their day is going…if people are being respectful. They say that people are OK, though very few answer their doors. I say, “It takes courage to walk door to door, sharing what you believe. I admire you for that. Even if we don’t agree, I’m think it is important that we be willing to talk to each other.”
And, in case you are wondering, I did tell them about “creative interchange” and why I feel it is important, particularly in today’s society, for us to listen not only with our minds and hearts, but with our spirits, too.
“Well, we’ve got to be going,” the young man reminds me. We shake hands and I thank them again and wish them luck. They turn to walk away and then he spins around, pulling out a little memo pad, and asks, “What church is it that you serve?”
“First Unitarian Church of Des Moines,” I say. “We’re on the web if you want to learn more.”
I return to the house, feeling good about the conversation, grateful for the opportunity these young people gave me to think about what I believe, laughing at myself that I had been so surly about being interrupted.
About 15 minutes later, I pull my car out of our driveway, on my way to complete a few errands. Just up the street, my new friends are sitting in their car, talking. I think to myself that they look a little sheepish…like maybe I caught them talking about me. We exchange waves and smiles and I don’t think about them again.
At least until a few days later, when my wife tells me that while I was at a wedding rehearsal, the young man had returned to talk to me again. This time, my friend had come with an older man, apparently a spiritual coach of some kind, and they came with religious tracts that fleshed out exactly why homosexuality is wrong and what “loyalty to God” really means.
Susan, who knew of our previous conversation, listened to their ideas and then shared some of her own. “I’d like to think I gave them something to think about,” she tells me, smiling.
Now that they had left more information, I figured they were done with us. But I figured wrong. A week or so later, they returned again…and again Susan had to tell them I wasn’t home. I guess the opportunity to have a theological debate with a UU minister was too enticing for them to pass up.
Three visits in ten days. Three visits to the home of a minister of a different faith to peddle your own. Now that takes some chutzpah…or maybe some lunacy…or maybe a little of both.
I couldn’t get my young visitor out of my mind. What is it that was driving him to keep coming back? What is it that compels any group to go door-to-door with their faith: Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, evangelical Christians. I’ve received well-meaning visits from them all.
I wondered what it would be like if UUs went door-to-door with our convictions. What truths or perspectives would we want to share?
I already knew that historically the two faiths of Unitarianism and Universalism that merged in the 1960s had different takes on the whole evangelism thing. Universalists in the 18th century were proudly evangelical in their belief in a loving God who grants universal salvation, hence the name “Universalists.” In a world where most people held Calvinist beliefs that one’s destiny to heaven or hell was mostly a luck of the draw, predetermined by God, to hear of a God that loves and cares for everyone was good news worth hearing…and spreading.
Meanwhile, the earliest forerunners of Unitarianism, who also believed in a benevolent God, were suspicious of the rampant evangelical revivalism of the day (not unlike our own!), and the so-called false enthusiasms of the preachers. Charles Chauncy, minister of Boston’s First Church in the mid-18th century, led the charge by cautioning against anyone who “mistakes the workings of his own passions for divine communications, and fancies himself immediately inspired by the SPIRIT OF GOD, when all the while, he is under no other influence than that of an over-heated imagination.”[2] The Unitarians that followed Chauncy’s lead, focused on a commitment to reason and logic as an antidote to the emotional fervor of the day.
Fast forward to the 21st century and we find a Unitarian Universalism that has branched in many ways from its Christian roots…at least the dogmatic roots, but that still has plenty of good news to share (if not essential news )…promotion of inherent human dignity, compassion in human relations, democratic process, the free search for meaning, and a respect for the ways in which all life is connected, no matter our cultural or religious beliefs. And yet, as a religious movement, Unitarian Universalism remains so committed, we might say, to reason and logic that we rarely (as a whole) take the risk to put ourselves out there at all. Religion is a personal choice, we say. Truth is ever-advancing. Revelation is continuous. We know from our own experience that people don’t really want to talk to religious types who knock on doors to share their “truth”. Why in the world would we want to try it?
Hence, we laugh at jokes about ourselves like the one at the top of your order of service. ["What do you get when you cross a Unitarian Universalist with a Jehovah's Witness? Someone who knocks on your door, and when you open it, has nothing to say."]
I hope you won’t be surprised that I don’t really care for this joke. I think we have plenty to say. In fact, as one member shared with me this week, “Get some of us talking, and we won’t shut up!”
It didn’t take long after the visits from my Jehovah’s Witness friends for me to realize that there was something I just had to do. I had to go door-to-door myself. What an interesting experiment! What a great example of pursuing creative interchange! What great sermon fodder!
Now, I confess that I have known I was going to try this experiment for weeks…but it took me until nearly the very last minute to actually follow through. I told myself I waited because I wanted the experience to be fresh in my mind as I wrote about it. But, I confess, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to interrupting people’s lives all for the sake of a sermon. In the end, I spent just about two hours Thursday afternoon going door to door in a south-side neighborhood not far from the church, and then in Waterbury, on Des Moines west side.
It doesn’t seem like a lot of time, I know, but one of the things I learned in doing this is that going to even just one house is enough to trigger some serious theological reflection. What should I say? How should I say it? Does it matter that I try?
I tried to choose middle-class streets with houses somewhat close together, to maximize my time. I knocked on a lot of doors of people who weren’t home…or who were hiding…or who refused to answer…hard to know for sure. About every fifth house, I found someone at home who was willing to open the door. By the time my two hours were up, I had spoken to dozens of people. Older women, older men, frightened pre-teen girl with big dog, twenty-something business type, 40 something mom with junior high aged kids, middle aged men. I’m actually surprised by how many people I did get to meet. I’m not surprised, however, by how little they seemed to want to hear what I had to say.
So what did I say? My little speech went like this:
Hi. My name is Mark Stringer. I am the minister of the Unitarian Church on Bell Avenue and I’m taking some time today to meet some of our neighbors and to answer any questions you might have about Unitarian Universalism.
Nobody I talked to seemed to know anything about our church, nor did they want to. Once I mentioned that I was from a church, their body language stiffened and their need to escape became obvious. (What can I say: I know the feeling!) My favorite reaction was the middle-aged mom, who literally rolled her eyes and tilted her head with a look of suspicious disdain, as if my very presence was sucking all the oxygen out of the air. Still, it was with pride that, even to this woman, I offered a brochure about UUism, onto which I had stapled my business card. I told them that if they had any questions to give me a call.
And that was mostly it.
I wish I could tell you about all the great conversations I had…about all the “creative interchange” I encountered. But, it just didn’t happen.
As I knocked on doors searching for people who would actually talk to me, I felt a little sheepish myself. I acknowledged that I would have felt differently had I been peddling my political perspective, especially just before an election. But to arrive on someone’s doorstep, uninvited, and ask that they listen to my religious convictions…or even to expect them to share theirs with me, just didn’t feel right to me…at least not at the time.
What a silly idea this had been, I thought. Not much sermon fodder after all.
But, you know, I can’t get my door-to-door adventure out of my mind. Since my afternoon of visits, I learned some things I want to share.
I have come to believe that all those folks over the years who have come to my door preaching their religion weren’t necessarily looking for me to see things they way they do. Rather, I think they were putting themselves out there to better understand their own beliefs…to get closer to their God…to try to live their faith perspective so deeply that they had to share it…no matter if anyone they visited gave them the time of day or not. And I realized that their visits to our homes offer us the same opportunities…if we’ll only take them.
I see the faces of all those people who did open their doors to me. I wonder if any of them did take a look at the brochure I left them. After all, none of them knew anything about our church before my arrival. And that is a shame. Not because we UUs have the corner on truth. But because I believe by keeping our religion a secret, we are cheating ourselves. We minimize our own lives by minimizing the religion we have chosen. If those with restrictive theologies are the only ones talking about religion and sharing their beliefs, then religion loses its potential significance and power in all our lives. If people assume that being from a church means stubborn adherence to just one perspective, then more open-minded religion will always struggle.
If this religion, this Unitarian Universalist religion, has brought joy, or peace, or understanding, or challenge, or beauty, or dare I say it, meaning, to our lives…then why in the world would we keep it to ourselves? Why wouldn’t we share it? And why would we think that to do so is somehow anti-Unitarian Universalist? I think of my own story and the story of countless others, maybe even you, who have found a religious home in Unitarian Universalism and how, for many of us, it is the only place we can be. Again, why wouldn’t we want to share it? Who may be looking for us who doesn’t even know we exist? The answer is simple. People like us.
And finally, my face-to-face visits with other members of our greater community have encouraged me to be thoughtful about the kind of world I want to live in. A world where religion is a means to open ourselves to the lives and perspectives of others…where religion encourages us to engage with our neighbors, sharing our stories and our lives so much that we can’t deny how interdependent we truly are. A world where religion holds “before our eyes a prospect of the better life for humankind, which each may help to make actual.”
And I know that my relative silence does nothing to help create that world.
What is your silence doing?
The point of this sermon is not that we should all go door to door the way I did. I might have made better use of those two hours just talking to people I already know about our church…or doing something for someone else as an expression of my faith…or taking the time to better understand someone else’s faith perspective, the same way I want others to understand mine.
But in the end, I do think the Unitarian Universalist perspective is essential to share because it is, or should be according to our principles, inherently open to the perspectives of others. And if this world needs anything right now, it needs people willing to see beyond the boundaries of their own lives and into the lives of others. We are not the only ones to see this need. Certainly there are people from other religious perspectives who walk this path of holy curiosity and understanding every day.
I just think our religion asks us to be leading the way.
The world we hope to create demands that we do.
Closing
Words [Universalist
minister John Murray (1741-1815)] Give the people something of your new vision. You
may possess a small light, Give them not hell, but hope and courage; Preach the kindness and everlasting love of God.
[1] Good Poems for Hard Times, Garrison Keillor, (New York: Viking, 2005), pp. 111-112. [2] David Robinson, The Unitarians and the Universalists (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985), pp. 11-12.
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