The Hardest Choice*

In a couple of days we will know for sure who our next President will be. But that’s about all we’ll know. We will not know if we, as citizens of the United States, are willing and ready to reach out across political lines, racial lines, class lines, sexual identity lines, and say, “Yes! You are my brother, you are my sister; I care about you.” On Nov 9th, we will not know whether Americans will be ready to choose the difficult spiritual work required to heal the great wounds inflicted by mostly white men in positions of power throughout our history.

Are we willing to make the hard choice to look honestly at ourselves—our beliefs that are exclusive, the fact that our financial security—if we have it—and our privilege and power, is due more to luck, than our talents? Will we as citizens of the one of the richest countries ever to exist, agree to start sharing more of our resources with one another?

In a recent New Yorker magazine article, John Cassidy quotes Benjamin Disraeli, the nineteenth-century British statesman, who wrote that we have now “two nations between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy; who are as ignorant of each other’s habits, thoughts, and feelings, as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets.” (The New Yorker Magazine: “Two Americas: Why Trump still has so much Support”, Nov 2, 2016, by John Cassidy; online edition). Cassidy explains that “Disraeli was writing about the rapidly industrializing England of the eighteen-forties, and the two nations he referred to were the rich and the poor.” Almost 200 years later, it remains an accurate observation of this country.

Later in the same article, Cassidy claims that “in a divided but social-media-saturated America, people on either side of the divide communicate over each other, rather than with each other. They regard news stories not as new information to be ingested and considered but as potential ammo to hurl at the other side. They see their political opponents not as well-meaning if misguided fellow-citizens but, to borrow a phrase, as deplorables who have no political legitimacy.” (ibid)

I know that we are not exempt from this kind of behavior.  But our faith demands more from us.

I want us to be aware of the demands of our faith because to heal our brokenness, requires a tremendous will and spiritual resilience that our faith can provide if we take our principles seriously. We affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person. We believe in justice and equity and compassion in all our affairs. We promise to support one another, to encourage each other to grow spiritually. We believe that we are connected, one to another, and one to the earth. We are all part of the interconnected web of existence. We believe that the Trump supporter has as much right to be in this sanctuary as the Clinton supporter.

Yes, we do.

At this stage of the election, singer songwriter Holly Near’s lyrics come to mind:

“There is hurting in my family, There is sorrow in my town,

There is panic in the nation, there is wailing the whole world ’round. But I am open and I am willing. For to be hopeless would be so strange It dishonors those who go before us, so lift me up to the light of change.”

Are we an open and willing people? Are we ready to be lifted up to the light of change? (Do I hear an Amen?) Are we people who stand on the side of the love, who believe that love and hope will carry us?

Can we take our conviction that democracy is the best form of governance there is and expand it so everyone gets a seat at the table?

Either we take our principles seriously or we don’t. I know almost all of you, and I am sure that you take our principles seriously. Expanding and sharing power is counter-cultural, but the culture needs to be changed, and I know you want to be part of that change.

The great social prophet and former minister of the Riverside Church, William Sloan Coffin wrote the following paragraph at some point in his career, and it remains true in 2016:

“I believe one significant cure for what presently ails us lies in extending yet further our democracy. We need more women’s rights, not less, until they are genuinely equal to men’s rights. We need more gay rights, more rights for immigrants, for children, for our citizens in jail. We need to recognize that affirmative action is good for all of us…And given the vast wealth and power that have accumulated in the hands of a small and self-serving corporate elite, which pays itself proportionately more and pays workers proportionately less than in any other industrialized democracy, we need to democratize the market economy of America.” (p. 44, Credo, by W.S. Coffin).

In a few short decades, white people will no longer be the majority in this country. Some whites are very unhappy with this turn of events, but I prefer the colorful, beautiful tableau that appears when people of many races and many cultures come together. To empower those who have been marginalized requires an integrity and honesty that has been missing from so many of our elected leaders, and by definition, from so many of us.

This election has brought to light so many of the isms that continue to hurt us:  sexism and racism, being just two. This presidential campaign has brought to light the shadow side of our country, and we need to bring these hidden wounds into the light, or we will never be able to heal them. We must take a long, hard look at this nation’s history, and know how it continues to affect us—if we have any hope of ever creating the beloved community.

The Native Americans who have been protesting at Standing Rock deserve our support. Poor people of every color deserve our support. We affirm the inherent dignity and worth of every person. We work for fairness.

We need to be honest with all of our brothers and sisters about the harm done in our history: Harm to the poor, harm to indigenous peoples, harm to women, harm to people of color, harm to working class men and women, harm to the GLBTQ community.

Why don’t we have a Truth and Reconciliation movement? Why can’t we be honest about what we did to the indigenous peoples when mostly white folks arrived? Why can’t we be honest about what the African Americans contributed to the growth and wealth of this country? Who are we protecting? I love all of you but sometimes I have to wonder, what is up with White people? What are we so scared of?

I was so heartened when Georgetown University acknowledged that several hundred years ago, in an attempt to raise money to keep their school going, hundreds of slaves: women, men and children, were sold. The University alumni asked that a committee be formed and it was. The school sought out the descendants of these slaves. And they found a lot of them.

But other than changing the names of some of the buildings on its campus, and giving descendants a slight edge in admissions, Georgetown didn’t take this any further. The school could have brought the descendants of slaves together with the descendants of slave owners, as was suggested by one of the slave descendants interviewed by the New York Times. What a missed opportunity for truth telling and healing! One of our principles is the free and responsible search for truth. We need to look for truth in our public sphere as well as our own personal lives. What truths are you living with that shame you or scare you? Can we make this place safe enough so you can tell them?

Can we look hard at ourselves and our prejudices? Because the “Conversations on Race” discussions have touched on class, I have taken a look at my own biases in this subject. I have been shocked at how easy it has been for me to call people rednecks, and poor white trash. I don’t have to hang my head in shame about this. Rather, I can just stop doing it. And I can continue to learn.

Our principles ask us to grow and change, not live in shame or fear. This very congregation is diverse class wise, if not multi-racial. I am sorry if I have ever made anyone feel inferior due to a job or upbringing or level of education. I pledge to help make this place as inclusive as it can be. I want everyone who walks through our doors to feel welcome, notwithstanding the fact that there are many beliefs that won’t find traction here. But I would prefer to exclude someone who believes Jesus Christ is God, rather than someone who is poor, or uneducated.

And yes, there are poor people on Cape Ann. In another passage from Credo, William Coffin claims that “Had the world spent for the poor one million dollars every day since the birth of Jesus, it would have spent but one half of what the Reagan Administration wants to spend in 5 years on the US military alone-1.5 trillion dollars.” (Credo, pg 56)

In 2016, the US military budget is 598 billion, more than a third of all money spent on military expenses, globally.

I want the US to have a strong military, but it is hard to fathom needing almost as much as what the top 14 countries spend combined.  If we could spend just a little more money on education, job training, and drug addiction, as the platform created by The Movement for Black Lives* suggests, would we feel unsafe?

So many supporters of both Trump and Clinton feel ripped off by the country that was supposed to keep them in jobs, jobs that were supposed to pay enough to feed and educate their children. There are far too many people working 2 to 3 jobs and still unable to meet their expenses.

I don’t know the answers to many of the most urgent questions, but I do know that we have these principles to guide us in the choices we make and the actions we take.

*Not the same thing as the Black Lives Matter movement. It is a coalition of about 50 groups working to improve the lives of African Americans in this country)

Meg Barnhouse, a UU parish minister in Austin, Texas, wrote: “I listen to people talk sometimes about liberal religion as if it’s a thin gruel, watered down to please everyone. Our Seven Principles, they complain, are either too much like a creed or so general as to be meaningless.

For those who feel they are thin gruel, I have a suggestion. Let’s stick something onto the end of every Principle that will stop people from smiling and nodding comfortably as they are read. …[H]ow about attaching “beginning in our homes and congregations”?

Then we’d be faced with affirming things like “the goal of . . . peace, liberty, and justice for all, beginning in our homes and congregations.” Everyone who has raised children knows that peace is often at odds with liberty and that justice demands a disturbance of the peace. To put those three together in one Principle is outrageous and lovely. It’s easier to think about working towards them in a global context than in the context of Cheerios and pajamas, car keys and cleaning up one’s bedroom.

“Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations, beginning in our homes and congregations” is a sobering ideal. I don’t know about you, but I have sat in meetings about right relations and seen people get testy with one another. Some of the nastiest behavior I’ve seen was long ago at a community workshop for peace activists.

…If I start with my own heart, the demands of our Principles get even heavier. Peace and compassion in my heart? Justice too? Freedom as well? Affirming the worth of every person all the time, not only with my words and my behavior but in my secret heart?

If we added “in the heart” to the Principles, they might as well just say “Be Jesus” and be done with it. I’m sorry I even brought it up.” (“Who Says Unitarian Universalism’s Principles are Easy?”, by Rev Meg Barnhouse, UUA World online, 11/23/09)

Our principles demand a lot from us!  But in this world, at this time, we need something strong and enduring, while being flexible and open to new discovery.  I submit that our principles are up to the task.  And so are you!

Please make the hardest choice there is in this world:  to open your heart just a bit more than it was when you first woke up.  Let’s open our hearts to people we don’t like so much, let’s open our ears to words we don’t understand or agree with; let’s open our eyes to the reality of the living conditions of so many people we have never met and will never know.

On retreat earlier this week, our program leader, Rev Dr Jacqui Lewis, asked us to answer the question, What is your heart’s desire for your congregations.  I wrote “my peeps love each other and the wider world.”  We are open and willing and we are able, right?

We stand on the side of love.  We do not fear that the times are changing because love will always show us the way!  (Do I hear an Amen?)

Amen.

Rev Susan A Moran