Worship News

Sermon given by Bob Clegg at ASWUU on 11/10/2024 about James Luther Adams and the Cost of Lasting Commitment

"Zwang – The Cost of Lasting Commitment" (Bob Clegg, 11/11/2024)
 

One of the more perplexing quotes, for me, from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is this, “If a person hasn’t discovered something they are willing to die for, they aren’t fit to live.” This is a powerful statement. It’s a bit more powerful, in fact, than I’m really comfortable with. “Not fit to live?” That seems a bit strong, but… It is Dr Martin Luther King Jr. talking, and… he did pay the ultimate sacrifice…. And the point of his statement isn’t to make me comfortable….

The point Dr. King was making was, to remind us that we all need something to stand for. We need something bigger than ourselves to focus our life’s purpose on. We need a commitment to give our lives meaning. For Dr. King, that commitment was justice. His faith gave him the courage to speak directly to what he believed was worth his life, even though it required him to pay the full cost.

But this question—of what we’re willing to stand for, or even die for—is complicated, for Unitarian Universalists. We belong to a faith that doesn’t ask others to believe exactly as we do. In fact, I’d be willing to guess that, right here in this room, we all believe different things! One of our greatest strengths is that we make space for many beliefs – including those that challenge our own.

Still, we do stand for something. Our Principles and our Values call us to bring justice into this world. They challenge us to live with compassion and commitment, to act beyond our own self-interest. Our purpose as Unitarian Universalists is to uphold these Principles and Values, the ones that are displayed here on the walls around us. They represent our commitment to a world where justice, equity, and compassion aren’t mere theory. As a community, we make a promise to work for these ideals – even when it’s hard. But we also make another promise: to welcome people of different beliefs. That means creating a place where differences are honored – a place where nobody is excluded simply because they disagree with us.

So how do we balance these two promises? How do we stay true to our values without drawing lines around who belongs here? This question gets at the core of our commitment to radical inclusivity. We practice a love that goes beyond what’s comfortable or familiar. We commit to care for every member, equally and openly – regardless of who they are or what they believe.

In Unitarian Universalism, we have a phrase for this kind of radical care: “radical hospitality.” Carli preached on that topic this past September. Radical hospitality is a commitment to care for each other without reservation. It requires us to welcome people even when they might challenge our views. Radical hospitality asks us to embrace people we might disagree with.

This doesn’t mean our community has no boundaries. We do have Principles. And there may be times when someone’s actions don’t align with those Principles, in ways that make it hard to stay in right relationship. But even in those cases, we remember that our call to love, our call to care, remains. We can speak out against harmful actions while still holding space for each person’s right to be themselves.

Think, for a moment, about what this radical hospitality feels like, when you experience it here in this congregation. Think about what it means to know, without question, that you are accepted fully, without condition….

We do that for each other. Sometimes we don’t appreciate it. We don’t always realize it’s going on. But we do that for each other! Or… do we… always?

I wrote this sermon three weeks before election day. I would have given this same sermon, regardless of the outcome. Because no matter who won, our purpose as Unitarian Universalists remains the same. Our purpose as UUs is to serve justice, equity, and compassion, and to create a place where all are welcome. Who we vote for, or what policies we support, are our personal choices. These are not reasons for anyone to feel excluded here – or to feel like they can exclude anyone else here. We must, in our relationships with all our members, treat each other with love, and care, regardless of how we vote.

I know I would have a hard time being here if I felt I was walking on eggshells because someone might snap at me for voting differently from the 90% majority in this church. Something vital, something life-giving, is here for all of us, or we wouldn’t all be here! Let’s make everybody welcome – newcomers and old timers alike. In this church, our core values don’t shift with political wins and losses. Our commitment to each other, through our Values of Inclusivity and Pluralism, endures.

This commitment to radical inclusivity is hard stuff! But it’s essential. It’s part of what makes us a “liberal” religion. In this context, “liberal” doesn’t mean “progressive” or “left-leaning.” It comes from the Latin word liber, meaning “free.” When we say we are a liberal religion, we mean we are a free religion. Our “liberalism” is not a political stance but a commitment to freedom of belief. Each of us is free to seek our own truth. We are free to speak it from the pulpit, and we’re free to speak it from the pew. We don’t rely on a church hierarchy to tell us what to believe or how to interpret sacred texts.

One of the greatest examples of the free pulpit is John Haynes Holmes, who on the eve of WWI, preached a fiery sermon against war. After that sermon, the Board met. After a long discussion, they approved two motions. The first motion denounced Haynes’ sermon as “wrong-headed, dangerous, and possibly treasonous.” The second motion confirmed not his right, but his obligation to speak his mind. And it affirmed that, regardless Haynes’ beliefs about the war, he was still their minister. The free pulpit – the freedom of faith of every member – was preserved.[1]

This freedom of faith we have, though, doesn’t mean a lack of commitment. In fact, it’s the opposite. Our free faith calls us to make our own commitments. It calls us to discern for ourselves what matters most. Each of us is called to take a stand – not because someone tells us to, but because we’ve discovered, through reflection and action, what we’re willing to live for – and what we might even be willing to die for.

In 1936, a young man named James Luther Adams was in Germany, working with Bonhoeffer’s underground seminary on the eve of WWII. While he was there, Adams had a conversation with Karl Jaspers, the great atheist philosopher and theologian (an interesting combination of callings!) Adams asked Jaspers, “Does liberal religion have any significance in the current situation in Europe? Jaspers replied with a snort, “Religious liberalism has no significance. It has no ‘Zwang’”—meaning, no cost of lasting commitment.[2]

Shaken, and later haunted, by this answer, Adams spent the next six decades articulating a Unitarian theology with Zwang – a cost of lasting commitment. For Adams, if our faith matters at all, it must call us to action – and that action requires sacrifice. He wrote and spoke about what it means to make a commitment to our faith that goes beyond words. For Adams, as for Dr. King, the work of justice was a religious act. He wrote many of the phrases that appear in our Principles and our Values. And his call for commitment lives on, in in UU thought and action, in our commitments to justice, equity, and compassion.

One particular mark Adams made on liberal theology, was the idea of democracy as a religious principle. Our Fifth Principle—upholding democratic processes in our congregation and in society—isn’t just a matter of civic duty. For us, it’s sacred. We commit to democracy, not because it’s easy or efficient. We commit in order to honor each person’s worth. We believe that everyone deserves a voice – that everyone deserves a seat at the table.

But each of us must decide what this commitment – in this context, our commitment to democracy – looks like in our lives. It could mean working for justice, speaking up for the environment, or standing with those who are marginalized. For some of us, it might mean speaking up when silence would be easier. For others, it might mean working in a charitable organization to support people who are unhoused, victims of addiction, or mentally ill. Others might be in a stage in life, but with access to the means, to support such work with financial contributions.

Adams didn’t stop at the “what” of committing to democracy. He analyzed democracy to drill down to the “how” of democracy. He concluded that a fundamental and necessary building block of democracy is “voluntary associations.” These are the associations we make with others that are protected by our First Amendment right to assemble. Examples of voluntary associations in our country include the Scouts, Chambers of Commerce, civic clubs like Rotary and the Lions, The League of Women Voters (and even Daughters of the Confederacy!), 4-H, and the Democrat and Republican Parties. Adams showed that an electorate that’s committed to its voluntary associations is a well-informed electorate that takes a stake in its own democratic future. Broad commitment to a system of voluntary associations is more important for making a democracy strong than good education.

In particular, Adams deemed churches to be a “very special” voluntary association. Churches are where we can come weekly (or more) to fill our spiritual gas tanks so we can contribute effectively in our selected causes the rest of the week. Here in this church, our Principles and Values give us a foundation. But we each have to make the choice to live by them.

When I first joined Unitarian Universalism, I thought I’d finally found a place that was ready for me – a place that aligned with my values. But as I got to know this community, I realized that Unitarian Universalism wasn’t just about agreeing with what I believed. It was about joining a community that was already at work, already striving for justice, equity, and compassion. I wasn’t here to be validated. I was here to be challenged – to be called to something greater.

In Unitarian Universalism, we often say that we are “called” to our work. All of us – all of us! – have our call! And this call isn’t about answering to an external authority. It’s about listening to our own hearts – to the still, small voice that tells us what matters most. We come together in community to strengthen each other, to support each other in our individual calls. We hold each other accountable, not by forcing beliefs but by reminding each other of the commitments we’ve made.

This is why we come here: to prepare ourselves to live our faith in the world. The strength we build here, in our congregation, gives us the courage to practice what some call “public theology.” Public theology is the act of carrying our values out into the world, of working to make our vision of Beloved Community a reality. It’s the practice of taking our inner commitments and turning them into outward action.

If you remember just one thing from this message, I hope it’s something like this: Unitarian Universalism doesn’t offer any easy answers. Our faith doesn’t give us a simple list of dos and don’ts written on stone tablets. But it does call us to work for inclusivity, pluralism, justice, transformation, generosity, and equity. As part of that pluralism and inclusivity, our faith calls us to care, as a verb, about people we don’t necessarily agree with.

So let us each find our path to meaning, to action, and to freedom, both within ourselves and together. May we each follow our conscience and transform our faith into action. And may we all practice a liberal religion – a freedom of faith – as we relate to our fellow members, just like John Wayne Holmes’ board modeled for their congregation, and for us, over 100 years ago. Let it be so.