READINGS: 650 “Cherish Your Doubts”
What is Truth (various writers)HYMNS: 187 “It Sounds Along the
Ages”
297 “The Star of Truth” (TUNE: Duke Street)
SERMON
n
the gospel according to John, Jesus tells his disciples that if they
continue on the path he has shown them, they will know the truth and the
truth will set them free. And Pilate asks Jesus, “What is truth?”
You have invited me to reflect with you today about truth: seeking
truth, finding truth, what is “partial truth,” who has “the whole
truth,” how do we know truth...perhaps even what does it mean to
proclaim truth. Before I go any further, let me share some of my own
journey with you so that you will have a better sense of the bias that
permeates my reflections.
I am a fourth-generation Universalist who was 10 years old at the
time of the merger. I was indelibly imprinted with the conviction that
Unitarians and Universalists are Christians because 90% of us were at
the time of the merger. Suffice it to say that I never stopped being
Christian, although I am a very different Christian now than I was at
age 10. In the United Church of Christ–in which I also hold ordained
standing – we would say that God just kept on speaking in my life ...
transforming me in ways large and small. So I like to say that Unitarian
Universalism provides the process by which I engage with theology, and
Christianity provides the content. I tell you this because I may use
some language that is unfamiliar to you or uncomfortable. Think of it as
a foreign language, if you want to. You may need to translate.
As a born-and-bred Universalist of more than 50 years, I am
humorously aware not only of the strengths of what has come to be the
Unitarian Universalist path, but of some of the weakness of that path,
as well. And one of our weaknesses is that we tend to seek absolutes. If
that sounds odd at first hearing, think about it for a moment. We love
seeking things, we love discussing things, we love wrestling with ideas,
we love process, and we love being sure we have gleaned all the wisdom
that can be gleaned on some particular topic before we say anything
definitive about it. We are inordinately fond of the phrase, “On the
other hand ... ” But all those discussions, and searches, and dialogues
are to get to the Truth (large “T”) about something, anything. As
predominantly left-brain types, we don’t want to be kinda, maybe sure
... we want to know!
The downside of this is that our resistance to taking something on
faith has become an unwillingness in many people to even test a
religious hypothesis by living it honestly for awhile. Our rejection of
communal or denominational creeds has led many UUs to be literally
unable to say credo (I believe ... ) The accusation by the religious
right that we are secular fundamentalists is, unfortunately, all too
accurate in many cases. If modern science tells us something, we almost
universally believe it and -- when functioning at our least thoughtful
-- will proclaim it in shriller and shriller rhetoric as the Truth
(large “T”). We will beat people over the head with it. And if people
don’t listen (damn it!), we even refuse to look for other ways to say it
that might be heard.
Well, my friends, only a little more than 100 years ago, the
scientific and medical communities were telling us that germs didn’t
exist. And the vast majority of us were supporting their clearly wrong
pronouncements with every fiber of our beings. So, even science does not
always have the Truth (large “T”.)
[And just so there is no question: I happen to believe in global
warming. But–but–I accept that I may be wrong. Margaret Deland said,
“Every new truth begins in a shocking heresy.” Science is no more immune
to accusing “non-believers” of heresy than theology is. A little
humility can be salutary behavior both to practice and to model. I
accept that something may be happening in the universe that is dangerous
and destructive, but that isn’t actually global warming. So, when some
other explanation is offered, I may need to change my behavior and my
beliefs (my small “t” truth) again.]
Back to absolute truth. The problem with our search for absolutes is
that, after awhile, it becomes pointless and unproductive and (dare I
say it?), more than a little self-indulgent. Telling someone I will not
settle for less than “the whole truth,” gives me lifelong permission to
avoid the real risk of taking a stand on a truth and getting on with
doing something meaningful about it.
Pilate asks Jesus, “What is truth?”
What, indeed?
Let me posit that what we usually mean when we use the word “truth”
(and I am speaking small “t” truth here) is a temporary social
construct; a working hypothesis. Truth (small “t”) is our mutually
agreed-upon description of the lens through which we view our common
life. The truth (small “t”) is always changing–sometimes slowly,
sometimes rapidly–but changing because we are always changing and the
environment and the culture and our knowledge and the language in which
we speak, all those things are always changing.
Does this mean that there is no large “T” Truth? Absolutely not. I
have built my life on the conviction that there is Truth, Absolute
Truth, Ultimate Truth. I call it God. But for several reasons, I’m not
really going to say much about it today except in passing, but what I
say about why I am not going to talk about it, will tell you a lot about
how I understand truth (small “t”).
The first reason for not speaking about Ultimate Truth is that I have
too much respect for it to even begin to think that I can get it fully
into finite words. I appreciate the witness of my Jewish sisters and
brothers who do not speak the name of the Holy One. They have taught me
to come at holiness “slant” (as Emily Dickinson would say), in metaphor
because metaphor is all we have to describe the indescribable. And
always, always, always aware that whatever I say is only a piece, a
facet, a perspective, one angle.
The second reason I’m not going to preach on Absolute Truth is that I
believe that it, too, is always changing. I believe in the Living God.
Which means the God who is Free Will and who names Godself, “I Am Who I
Am” or, more accurately, “I Am Becoming Who I Am Becoming.” Or, to put
another way, anything I say about Truth (large “T”) is going to be
out-of-date before it even leaves my mouth.
The third reason is that if I set myself the goal of getting a handle
on Ultimate Truth, Absolute Truth, the Truth, I can spend my whole life
indulging in moot discussions, and study sessions, and dialogue (all the
comfortable head stuff we UUs like so much.) I don’t believe human
beings have it in our power to articulate the Ultimate Truth. On the
other hand, I believe I not only have the power, but the responsibility,
to name the truth (small “t”) I see and to fling my weight on its side.
Furthermore, I believe I am called to live the truth I can see deeply
enough and long enough and faithfully enough that I eventually confront
its paradoxes. It is in the presence of paradox that I am transformed
and where I experience the paradigm-shift that invites me into a deeper
truth.
Jesus says, “The truth will set you free.” Free from what? Free for
what?
Let me share a story. In the first congregation with which I served
(which was a multi-denominational church affiliated with the UUA and the
UUC, but was really part Presbyterian, part Baptist, part Episcopalian,
part you-name-it), there was an elderly man who was a life-long member
of the church. He had been baptized there, married there; his children
had been baptized and married there; his parents, one sibling, and his
wife had all been buried from its wide front doors. He was almost 90
when I took up my ministry.
Every Sunday, every Sunday, every single one, he showed up for
worship. He was almost deaf, he couldn’t really see well, he was too
frail to lift the hymnal, and getting up the front steps was a
challenge. He walked about a half-mile from his home to the church at a
pace that could generously be called “stately,” but was really closer to
molasses. Sometimes, when it was really icy underfoot, he would accept a
ride. Our deacons–all in their 30s and 40s–found this painful to watch
and wanted to fix it ... somehow.
Finally, one of them approached him. “Bill,” this member said, “What
do you possibly get out of church? You can’t hear the music or the
sermon. You can’t see the order of service or the hymns or the minister.
It is hard for you to walk here and back home. Why do you come?” Bill
smiled very gently, and he said, “I don’t want there to be any question
whose side I’m on.”
“I don’t want there to be any question whose side I’m on.”
The truth (small “t”) sets us free to choose whose side we are on.
Because we live our life in its context, we make choices by its
parameters. We don’t need to spend hours and hours and hours weighing
all the alternatives–even the ones that make no sense to us–just to be
sure we are doing the “right thing.” The truth sets us free to act right
here and now, to witness, and speak, and function right here and now on
behalf of something bigger than ourselves and more eternal than our
temporal existence.
Another story. C. S. Lewis was not born into a Christian home. He
converted to Christianity late in life from atheism. Most of you would
accept the premise that he sure didn’t get there by reason! What may
surprise you is that he didn’t get there by faith, either. He got there
by making a conscious decision to live in a particular way. He decided
that Christianity had enough adherents that he admired and respected
that there might actually be something worthwhile in it as a belief
system. Since he couldn’t reason himself into it and since he couldn’t
swallow “leaps of faith,” he made the risky choice to live one year as
if he believed what Jesus taught and what the Church–at its best–was
trying to manifest in the world. The rest (including the Narnia series)
is history.
Holding a truth (small “t”) is about living as if. It’s not about
convincing others; it’s not about setting others straight (so no one can
justify not choosing, by claiming that choosing for something includes
evangelizing or proselytizing or imposing one’s beliefs on someone
else.) It’s not about excluding other truths or beliefs or tenets or
doctrines or creeds (so no one can avoid choosing by pretending that
choice means there is only one right way.) Knowing the truth (small “t”)
is about making the highly personal decision to throw one’s weight into
the balance of the universe somewhere. And where we throw our weight
matters. It matters ultimately.
There are many truths (small “t”) that we can hold. Probably as many
as there are people. Not one of them is “the whole truth” because, by
definition, no part can be the whole. Like the far eastern story about
the blind men and the elephant, “the whole truth” is a composite of many
small truths, each one fully valid in its own right, but incomplete
until brought into relationship with all the others. But not knowing
“everything” does not give us permission to not know the “something”
that we do know.
I tell couples who come to be married that if any of us knew what
marriage entailed, very few of us would take those vows. It is by the
grace of God that we get to live our marriages one day at a time, one
event at a time, one argument at a time, one blessing at a time.
I think the same can be said about Truth (large “T”). If any of us
really, truly, all the way, could actually hold in our finite minds and
hearts for one nanosecond “the Whole Truth” (large “W”, large “T”), it
would be enough to drive us crazy. Literally. This is why the People of
the Book speak about being allowed to see only God’s
hindquarters–anything else would be too much glory! It is by the grace
of God–if you will allow me to use the language that feels most familiar
to me–that we are only able to perceive a piece of the Truth (large
“T”.) All of us are able to recognize a truth (small “t”) and when we
engage with that truth with deliberate intent, we are able to throw our
one, wild, wonderful life into the balance to tilt the universe toward
the wholeness of Ultimate Truth.
I do not need to hold your truth–only my own. And you do not need to
know or accept mine. In fact, it is important that we willingly,
honestly, respectfully, agree to hold different truths. If we all only
saw the same piece of the truth, how hopeless life would be: no art
would exist, no inventions, no poetry, no science or music. There would
be no point in talking to one another because there would be nothing to
say.
A wise visionary once said that we (together) are like a body and
that we need all the parts and we need them each to do their separate
task. But we need them each to do their separate task. We – as a world
community – don’t need each other to talk about what it might be like to
do our separate task. We need to act and we need each other to act. We
need feet to walk – not think about walking; we need stomachs to digest
– not wonder whether digestion has ultimate meaning; we need hearts to
beat; arms to bend; and intestines to sort the healthy nutrients from
the useless.
The truth about truth is that each of us needs to live it. Right now,
right here. It may be fun to talk about it; it may be fun to share mine
with you and to hear yours; it may be human to wish that everyone
accepted and approved your particular truth. But the truth is that it
doesn’t matter whether I believe your truth or not. What matters is that
you believe it and that you speak it (with passion; with commitment;
with joy and confidence and hope)--because if you do not speak the
unique truth that is yours, who will? And if you do not live your truth
(passionately, joyfully, confidently), who will? And if you don’t take
the risk of being the unique person you are with your perspective on
truth (small “t”), how will the Ultimate Truth (large “T”) ever become
ultimate? The universe cannot be whole if it is missing your thread,
your piece, your truth, your lightbulb.
As a Universalist, the bedrock of my faith is the absolute trust in
the final harmony of all souls with the Ultimate. I invite you into
ultimate harmony, not in some far-off future, but here, now, today. May
it be ...
© 2006 The Rev. Andrea La Sonde Anastos |