Ah, the UU blogosphere’s a-popping with things I want to respond to at length, too much length for a comments box. Actually, one I want to respond to is a recent post by James Ishmael Ford, whose Monkey Mind blog doesn’t have comments boxes. I’ll get to that one next. Right now I’m meditating on my Palo Alto colleague Dan Harper’s post “Liberty and democracy in liberal religion.” It touches on a topic I think about a lot: the balance (or, equally, the tension) between individual liberty and the demands of community. My candidating sermon for the first church that called me, the Unitarian Universalist Church of Rutland, Vermont, was about this challenge, titled with the words of the Vermont state motto: “Freedom and Unity.”
Dan writes, and I hope he won’t sic Righthaven on me,
[T]he major attraction to Unitarian Universalists for many people in our congregations is that no one can tell them what to believe or do, and this too is enshrined in the bylaws of the UUA, in the claim to a free and responsible search for truth, which is often restated in colloquial terms as “no one can tell me what to believe.” This last attitude is in close emotional alignment with the attitude that the government shouldn’t tell individuals what to what to do with their property.
In close alignment with it, but not at all the same thing. After all, I accept limits on what individuals can do with their property, while insisting on radical liberty to decide what I will believe (I’m pretty sure Dan does too). They are, however, two things we conflate often, and at our peril.
Dan thinks that many of the people who identify as UU theologically but don’t join a UU congregation–there are, by some counts, twice as many of them as actual members of our congregations–stay away because they “find themselves unwilling or unable to submit any of their individual theological liberty to the demands of being part of a democratically organized congregation.” I think this is probably true. Those who do not wish to submit in any way to the strictures of community–I’m thinking of extreme libertarians–will not want to join a congregation, even if they identify themselves as theologically UU.
But I see the congregation as a workshop, as rehearsal space, as practice fields, as a laboratory for the larger democracy, and so I’m focused more on the people who do come to our congregations, and yet who expect that they can pretty much have things the way they want them in that micro-society because of that “free and responsible search” stuff, and of course, that “inherent worth and dignity” stuff. I’m not sure if they are wrongly extrapolating from our freedom of theological belief. It is just as likely that the reason they aren’t very clear on the costs and benefits of different kinds of freedom is that the larger culture has so much trouble accepting a concept such as “Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins.” We certainly don’t get “Your right to pour poison onto ‘your’ land ends where ‘your’ land includes an aquifer that lies under others’ land,” or our environmental laws would be very different. We are a much more civil-libertarian than communitarian society.
The distinction between things that are truly no one else’s business and things that do affect others substantially enough for them to deserve a say (namely, via government) is an essential one to make no matter what kind of society one lives in. It’s one with which our democracy, the democracy of the United States, still struggles. After all, it is not easy to agree on the answers to questions such as “Is whom one marries entirely a private choice, or do others get to restrict it?” “Is whether to carry a pregnancy to term entirely a private choice, or do others get to weigh in?” or even “Do I get to say anything I want to at Annual Meeting, or is some of what’s on my mind so destructive that I should bite my tongue?” That’s why we keep debating them. I don’t think we will ever resolve these questions once and for all, but if we accepted that they are not simple, but arise out of the tension between important values, we could approach them with a lot more clarity. Helping people to do that is very much in the job description of pastors, religious educators, and congregations.
Have we UUs given more attention to democratic structures than to theological liberty? I don’t think so. In any case, we definitely haven’t given them enough attention to make up for the confusion that reigns in a nation that is supposedly democratic but in which the prevailing definition of liberty is still license. No wonder people come into our churches saying “I can believe anything I want here!” and thinking it means “I can do anything I want here.” What are we here for if not to help them sort out the difference?
Sermons in Stones 
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May 5, 2011 at 4:49 pm
sorrygnat
liked your intelligent and reflective piece!
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May 5, 2011 at 6:05 pm
Leslie-Anne
This topic is interesting, but I find myself not able to quite follow the conversation. When you say, “I’m not sure if they are wrongly extrapolating from our freedom of theological belief,” I’m not exactly what is being said and how they are “wrong”.
And perhaps it is true that people don’t join congregations because they are “unwilling or unable to submit any of their individual theological liberty to the demands of being part of a democratically organized congregation,”
and yet I think that might be a very fancy way of saying something that could be conceptually much simpler. Many of us have been “burned” by this thing called “church”, and so we are shy to leap into the arms of a new bride, so to speak. So we want to live together first, in a manner of speaking.
I tend to think it’s more the fear of the unknown and a desire to protect oneself from “the unreasonable” than it is a calculated stance about refusing to submit any portion’s of one’s liberty at all.
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May 6, 2011 at 11:13 am
Amy Zucker Morgenstern
I’m saying that the fact that we are a creedless religion that encourages each person to seek their own truth does not mean that we also permit all kinds of behavior. If people think that one kind of freedom implies the other, and I think they sometimes do, they are headed for disappointment. (In a parallel case, they ought not to assume that theological liberalism implies political liberalism. It is perfectly consistent to be a UU and a political conservative. Difficult, given the overwhelmingly liberal-to-leftist politics of our members, but consistent!)
I agree that there are other reasons that people who are generally in sympathy with UUism decide not to join a UU church.
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May 6, 2011 at 7:09 pm
Leslie-Anne
Amy, thank you for that clarification, which helps, and yet now other questions are popping up for me.
You are responding to Dan, who is writing on the tension between personal Liberty (“freedom to do anything”) and Democracy (“willingness to live under constraints as democratically defined by the group”). Note my quotes are not direct quotes, but my best attempt at paraphrasing. Ok, I think I understand that basic tension.
You seem to be using the words Freedom and Unity instead of Dan’s Liberty and Democracy, although Unity is a bit different: “the demands of community” instead of Dan’s “willingness to live under constraints as democratically defined by the group.” Again, I think I follow.
The question “Have we UUs given more attention to democratic structures than to theological liberty?” is a bit greek to me, but the last bit, “No wonder people come into our churches saying “I can believe anything I want here!” and thinking it means “I can do anything I want here.” What are we here for if not to help them sort out the difference?” strikes an enormous chord and inspires me to share the paradigm that is the most meaningful to me, if it doesn’t sound too wild and crazy.
Liberty vs Democracy, Freedom vs Unity, let me add: “Me” vs “The Other”.
In other words, we all come into this world as narcissistic little creatures who eventually realize that “The Other” is out there and how the heck are we supposed to deal with them? We are “kicked out of Eden” when we are born, and our first terror in life is when we realize that this mother person is no longer physically connected to us at all times; we literally could die if we lose track of her. Attachment theory is based on our recognition of this fear and how we deal with it.
This thing called “Me” is always so very easy to deal with. We know how it thinks, what makes it happy. We like easy. We like “Me”. At least at first.
This thing called “Other”, however, is initially a strange and terrifying beast, and most of us spend our entire lives learning how to deal with it. There is danger, it is a dragon, and so we are fascinated by it. Most of us fear it. But some are able to overcome their fears, and live in harmony with it.
Perhaps we all secretly hope to achieve that, for if we could figure out how to re-unite with the Other we could again become one with the Universe, as we were in the beginning. And ministers are part of the tribe of magicians that indeed can help sort out what needs to be learned.
Now my own post must seem wild and crazy and difficult to follow 🙂 A wonderful book that I highly recommend is Carol Pearson’s “The Hero Within”.
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May 7, 2011 at 12:43 pm
Leslie-Anne
So I’m laughing at myself more than a little bit for complaining that “I cannot follow” and then hitting a line drive over into what must seem like total wacky-land. What must you be thinking? LOL.
I’m wondering if words might be more difficult to find on this topic, perhaps because it strikes at some pre-verbal parts of our being.
“How do I fit into the larger world outside myself?” is in fact a non-trivial subject, IMHO, and I think it is directly related. How do I behave? What do I do? That’s the same stuff as what the Ten Commandments are made of, and what Siddhartha wrestled with, whether it’s on the church campus or the public square. “Am I willing to accept what others tell me on this topic? What if I don’t like the answers that they give me?” are questions that each person must privately wrestle with inside their own heart.
For me it keeps coming back to the natural tension of “doing what is best for me” and having to also live in a world that is full of others who, shockingly, don’t care as much about me as I do.
Me vs Other, Freedom vs Unity, Liberty vs. Democracy.
And perhaps I can finally now see your point Amy, that in a religious framework that is perhaps vastly more tolerant than others, the question of “How much freedom?” raises it’s head in a rather unique way. In other circles, the answer is closer to “None. Do Exactly What We Tell You”. And so the question never really comes up. Case closed. Next Question.
Compared to that, the “free and responsible search” stuff and the “inherent worth and dignity” stuff could be interpreted as an answer of “as much freedom as you could possibly want!” So I agree with your comment, “I’m not sure if they are wrongly extrapolating from our freedom of theological belief.” To me, the 7 principles “cut both ways”. They provide freedom to the individual, but only if the individual is willing to extend the same freedoms to others. In order to “be respected”, I must also “extend respect” – so the freedoms are not entirely free, they do come at a cost.
Ok, my brain is tired now! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to wrestle
around with this stuff.
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