THE BEATTIE YEARS

A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear

Sunday, January 25, 2004

All Souls Unitarian Church

Indianapolis, Indiana

This morning I continue the series, begun last year, inspired by the All Souls centennial. Many people have expressed their appreciation for this series. I know I have enjoyed the research. Each sermon is devoted to the tenure of a different minister at this church, beginning in 1903.

I am impressed how preparing for these sermons involves something like time travel. In the early part of the 20^th century, one reads the story of All Souls in the context of an Indianapolis that is young and growing, with carriages and unpaved streets, a destination for adventurous people expanding the population from the East coast. On through the century, the story of All Souls is shaped by the great events of the day - the Depression and World Wars, the rise of the American-Soviet superpowers, the McCarthyism of the 50s, and the Vietnam War of the 60s. Along with great events, the changes in society had an impact on All Souls. In 1914, the local paper carried a shocking story about this church offering not only parties with dancing, but dancing lessons as well. In the 1950s, the church used the relatively new medium of radio to broadcast its message, and attracted hundreds of new members. And now the relatively new medium of the Internet and a web site attracts visitors and new members.

I continue to feel that these visits to our past help us understand who are are today as a church community. Today we go back to the 1970s. It was a turbulent time in America. On the heels of a divisive war, sometimes seeming to pit generations against each other, society seemed to be gasping for some center. Use of so-called "recreational" drugs was at a high, so to speak, among middle class America. Families were fragile, as people seemed to be grasping for some sort of moral anchor. The Watergate scandal only added to the general sense that nothing was secure, not even our democracy.

At All Souls, this decade coincided with the ministry of Paul Beattie, who arrived in January, 1969, and left in June, 1982. As you shall see, All Souls was not immune from the turmoil and uncertainty felt throughout society.

Paul Hamilton Beattie was born on May 7, 1937. Though his parents were American, he was born in Toronto, Canada, and almost all of his youth was spent in Cleveland, Ohio.

You shall see that Beattie was to become one of the most learned of Unitarian ministers, well-read and conversant in most areas of philosophy, literature and other humanities. His love of learning was largely the result of self-motivation, for he grew up in the rough and tumble inner-city of Cleveland, where such interests were not highly valued. He was raised in a relatively poor family by a single mother.

He attended the Methodist church, and the youth minister of that church recalls that in Junior High, Paul Beattie was a very troubled youth, "well on his way to becoming a juvenile delinquent." But when he was elected as President of the church youth group, his leadership skills became quickly evident.

His youth minister was later to become a Unitarian, and stayed closely connected with young Paul. By high school, he started reading philosophy and theology - subjects that were of little use to his high school education - and his grades were so low it was a stretch to get him accepted to college. When he did go, his talents were to become valued for the first time, and he became a top student, graduating from Mount Union College in 1959. Upon graduation, he decided to follow his mentor into the Unitarian ministry, and entered Meadville Theological School in Chicago, graduating in 1963. Later along the way, he would acquire an M.A. in Literature from the University of Chicago, and was well on his way to completing a Ph.D. from Chicago at the time of his death in 1989. He began his Doctoral work during a sabbatical leave while at All Souls.

He was such an exceptional student that his first church out of seminary was a highly respected one - the first Unitarian Church of Concord, New Hampshire. He served there from 1963 until 1969, at which time he was called to All Souls in Indianapolis.

Rev. Beattie seemed a nearly perfect fit for this church. Since its founding in 1903, its ministers had reputations as scholars, for example, and Beattie's sermons were carefully and thoughtfully crafted essays on philosophical and literary ideas. The previous ministers had all been affiliated with what had come to be known as the humanist wing of the Unitarian movement, and Paul Beattie was quickly becoming a recognized voice within Unitarian humanism.

He was only 32 years old when he came to All Souls. He was only the fourth settled minister here in 65 years, and all of his predecessors were respected and supported.

There was no question that Paul Beattie was a minister of profound courage, and along with courage followed controversy, and controversy sometimes has a longer legacy than the courage that accompanied it.

He was not afraid of advocating a controversial position. He made waves around Indianapolis by defending a woman's right to abortion, and did so long before the 1972 Roe vs. Wade Supreme Court decision. Another controversial subject is identified in the rhetorical sermon title, "Should Society Practice Eugenics?" There were sermon titles that were provoking in the Indianapolis area, like, "Jesus or Socrates: Why I Prefer Socrates," or "Is the Bible Fit for Children?"

He also made some waves within Unitarian Universalist circles by voicing minority positions on a number of political issues which went against the generally liberal tide of thought at the time. While many people were advocating "rapproachment" with the communist world in the face of nuclear stalemates, he was steadfast in his condemnation of all forms of totalitarianism, and communism was the most prominent at the time. While many were advocating disarmament, he spoke for a strong national defense.

Most of his sermons, of course, were not of these controversial natures. The point of his sermons was to make people think, and most of them were addressed to philosophical or theological or psychological issues. One of his strengths was literary, and more than most ministers, Beattie often drew upon classical literary stories for sermon illustrations.

Beattie's national reputation as an outstanding minister in the UUA was mostly earned during his fourteen year tenure at All Souls. It was here that his voice rose to prominence as a spokesperson for the humanist movement and as a critic of the political focus of the UUA. Before exploring his outstanding reputation in these areas, though, I want first to deal with the most difficult part of this story, which is also one of the most difficult episodes in the 100 year history of All Souls. Paul Beattie was at the center of the storm.

Recounting history is always risky. The more recent the history, the greater the risk. Furthermore, narrating a controversial piece of history is necessarily controversial.

In his eighth year as minister, concerns were raised among a number of members about the quality and priorities of his ministry. Those concerns increased to the level that in March of 1978 a meeting was called for a vote by the membership on his dismissal.

The reasons for the vote on his tenure are somewhat vague in the record, though it seems that there are several. Some people felt that he was so involved in denominational issues and organizations that the church, especially individuals within the church, were being neglected. Others felt he didn't value highly enough the pastoral role, which involves visitation of the sick and other personal interaction. Add to all that the fact that he seemed often to be advocating minority positions on many political issues, others felt he was straying too far out of the Unitarian mainstream. Whatever the reasons, his ministry was called into question and a vote on his tenure was scheduled.

Both sides had lobbied other members carefully before the meeting. Voting members had to sign-in to make sure the ballots were legitimately distributed. In the end, out of 470 votes, about 40% voted for his dismissal and 60% voted for him to remain. He survived the vote, though his support wasn't nearly as strong as most ministers feel they need to have.

Over the next few months, Beattie worked closely with the Board in designing ways to improve his ministry here. A survey of the congregation was made to solicit ideas to facilitate improvement. The Ministerial Advisory Committee was expanded and re-designed to encourage more direct feedback. A suggestion box was prominently placed outside the sanctuary, the weekly bulletin regularly carried requests for input to the Advisory Committee.

With these changes in place, Beattie decided the prospect for a successful future was enhanced, and he chose to stay at All Souls. Nevertheless, those who were not supportive of him became determined to resign and begin a new congregation in town. Over the next few months, out of a membership of over 700 about 100 left the church. They wrote to the UUA about their intention of founding another church, and they received the UUA's encouragement - along with the belief that Indianapolis could support more than one UU congregation. On January 7, 1979, the Unitarian Universalist Church held its first service, renting facilities at the Central United Methodist Church.

It was a tremendously agonizing time for everyone. Church-related friends - friendships that had been nurtured over many years - were fractured. There was a sense of betrayal felt by all sides. Beattie himself, of course, felt deeply the pain of what happened.

He continued on at All Souls, and the healing began. Church programs were lively, the pledge drives were successful, and people felt they were getting over the crisis. But still, Beattie knew the church would do better with new leadership. In the Fall of 1981, three years after the vote, Beattie announced this to be his last year, and he left the following summer.

He knew that both he and the church would benefit from new starts. He left behind hundreds of people who admired and respected him as a minister, who felt enlightened by his many thoughtful sermons, and who considered him to be a dear friend.

In the Fall of 1982, he began again as minister of the First Unitarian Church of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, another church with a long and distinguished humanist tradition.

I tell this part of the story now because what I want most to focus on is the great legacy he has left, and if I ended with that story the emphasis would be misleading. Beattie, as I say, has a lasting reputation nationally among the Unitarian Universalist leadership. With the passage of time, there are probably two areas in which Beattie's reputation within the Unitarian Universalist movement remains most strong. One is his advocacy for humanism. He was among the leaders in the American Humanist Association, and probably the name most commonly associated with Unitarian humanism.

It might be appropriate to say a few words about humanism in general and in particular, humanism within the Unitarian movement. The term itself has an ancient history. The Greek philosopher Protagoras, in the fifth century B.C., declared that since he had no direct knowledge of the gods, then "man is the measure of all things." The great thinkers of ancient Greece, such as Socrates and Aristotle, identified human reason as far more powerful and effective than superstition, and urged civilization away from reliance on magical and supernatural understandings of life.

The spirit of humanism re-emerged during the Renaissance when writers and artists turned their attention away from the heavens and discovered human beings in new light. The enlightenment era, also called the Age of Reason, provided a radical step in relying on rational rather than supernatural explanations of things. This was soon followed by what we call the "scientific" revolution, which took reason into practical avenues to discover what is considered the rational laws of nature. It provided a new standard for evaluating truth, a new measure for testing human knowledge.

What all these movements have in common is a certain spirit of mind and thought that makes human concerns central and the rational mind the path to truth. As huge as the word is, there are very few concise definitions of humanism that seem to work for me. One that comes close I found from J.A.C.F. Auer, a Harvard church historian, who wrote in 1933 a book entitled Humanism States Its Case. His definition, I think, identifies the thread that connects Socrates with Michelangelo, Galileo with Einstein, Shakespeare with John Dewey:

"Humanism is a system of thought which assigns predominant interest to [human] affairs as compared with the supernatural or the abstract, and which believes that [human beings are] capable of controlling those affairs."

In Unitarianism, many leaders were drawn to the emerging scientific world view, especially after the publication of Darwin's evolutionary theory in 1859. In the opening years of the twentieth century, John Dietrich, a Unitarian minister in Spokane, Washington and later in Minneapolis, Minnesota, was preaching a non-theistic religion he called "humanism." In Des Moines, Iowa, a Unitarian minister named Curtis Reese was preaching a non-theistic religion he called the "religion of democracy." When these two met at a conference in 1917, they discovered the similarities of their messages, and Reese eagerly adopted Dietrich's label, "humanism."

Throughout the 1920s, the humanist view attracted many followers in the denomination. Eventually, a Humanist Fellowship was formed largely by Unitarians in Chicago, at the University of Chicago. This group later reorganized as the American Humanist Association. In 1933, a statement outlining the philosophy of humanism was published under the title, the "A Humanist Manifesto." Of the 34 people who originally signed the document, over half were Unitarian ministers. The most famous signatory, though, was John Dewey, the philosopher, who was then at Chicago, and later at Columbia University. Among those who signed the document were the first three ministers of All Souls: Frank Wicks, Burdette Backus, and John MacKinnon.

From time to time, the organized Humanist movement in America seems to go through debates over the meaning of humanism. For example, there are some who seem to insist that the only sensible concept of humanism is of a secular sort, and that any definition of humanism is necessarily of a secular nature, and there is no reason to mix this concept with any religious ideas. These are known as "secular humanists."

There are others who see the universal values that humanism embraces - values such as tolerance, respect for human dignity, and the free and open search for truth the rational and democratic approach to human affairs - as values that arise from what human beings have forever experienced as religious longings. Humanist values, they say, are religious values, even if they aren't attached to beliefs in the supernatural realm. These are known as "religious humanists."

At the time Beattie came to Indianapolis, he was solidly identified with religious humanism within Unitarianism. During his fourteen years here, it is fair to suggest that his name became among the most prominent in Unitarian Universalism for his advocacy of religious humanism. For seventeen years (1972-1989) he was President of the Fellowship of Religious Humanists, an organization affiliated with the Unitarian Universalist Association. For many years he was editor of the group's magazine, Religious Humanism.

Because he wrote so widely and with strong conviction, Beattie was sometimes perceived within Unitarian Universalist circles somewhat doctrinaire in his views. Those who knew him only through his widely distributed writings often thought him to be an ideologue. Those who knew him personally, though, knew that he was open to new ideas. He not only treated others with different views respectfully, but he sought them out to engage in constructive dialogue. In a 1971 sermon entitled "Why I am a Humanist," for example, he said this:

"Before telling you why I am a Humanist, let me emphasize what I am not saying. I am not saying that the Christian Unitarian (the Unitarian who finds the Christian tradition is central) or the theistic Unitarian (the Unitarian who finds a God concept personally relevant) are wrong. A religious stance, if it works, if it makes a person ethically sensitive, if it inspires a good life, is valuable. By saying that I am a Humanist, I am not closing off sympathetic interchange with these other orientations. I realize that I have learned as much, perhaps more, from non-Humanists than I have from Humanists. . . None of us can be sure that new evidence, or new experiences, will not lead us at some future time to use different categories than we now use for portraying our way in religion."

Fifteen years after Paul Beattie's death, his name is still invoked as a leading advocate for religious humanism in our movement.

The other area in which Beattie's name has left a lasting influence is on an issue which has come to be known as "Freedom of Conscience."

Unitarian Universalists hold diverse religious beliefs. The one value, though, about which I think there is universal affirmation is that of freedom. We are a creedless religion, and no doctrine or dogma will bind our minds and souls. We arrive at our own religious belief however we are led by our reason and conscience.

It was Paul Beattie's observation, concerning the larger Unitarian Universalist movement as it evolved in the 1960s and 1970s, that while it stayed fairly true to its view about not binding the religious mind, it was nevertheless drifting toward adopting a political creed. The precious value of freedom of conscience on matters of religious conviction appeared to be jeopardized in matters of political conviction.

At the annual General Assemblies, for example, resolutions were submitted concerning every possible matter of political and social issue, and it seemed almost invariably that the most radical version would be adopted. The resolution would then be presented to the world as if it were the voice of Unitarian Universalism, and those who dissented from the position had no recourse against being associated with it.

In a 1979 sermon on the subject, he said this:

"Some Unitarian Universalists, who would never think of imposing a theological creed, have in various ways imposed a social or political creed. . . The dozens and dozens of resolutions which have been voted on, first simply as resolutions, have become guidelines for spending the (denominational) budget, for developing curricula materials, and for directing lobbyists in Washington! If you go to our national meetings, you find that UUs believe in abortion, unilateral disarmament, the Salt II Treaty, forced bussing for integration, etc. . . Some of the issues debated are profound ethical questions; some are absurd. Some stands taken are wise, others are bizarre. We have substituted a social or political creed for what in traditional religion is a theological creed. In effect, we have abandoned our non-creedal tradition. . . "

This issue took hold when a delegation from All Souls attended a General Assembly and returned shocked by what they experienced there. The Denominational Affairs Committee of this church put together their own resolution, called the "Freedom of Conscience" resolution, asking for a study of how minority views can be protected in the resolution process. The Freedom of Conscience movement took hold, and enough signatures were gathered to introduce it at the next General Assembly.

I believe Paul Beattie was absolutely right on this issue. In my twenty years as a UU minister, I am most disappointed with this movement, not when I hear people in healthy disagreement, but rather when I hear people speak with the assumption that every other UU agrees with them. If there is room in this movement for Christians and Atheists, Mystics and Humanists, then surely there is room for Republicans and Democrats, Libertarians and Socialists. Yes there are boundaries - they are defined by our common principles. An avowed racist, for example, cannot be and would not want to be part of a church that affirms the inherent worth and dignity of every person. But surely there is room for disagreement, for example, about policies of federal taxation.

Paul Beattie did not suggest the Unitarian Universalists abstain from activism. Not at all. He himself publically advocated controversial political positions. His argument was simply that activism should be a matter of individual conscience, not a matter of institutional advocacy. The church as an institution should inspire individuals to act on their convictions in the public arena, but the church should not dictate or compel the convictions of its members.

He was strongly supportive of the model used at All Souls that offered an organization called Unitarian Fellowship for Social Justice, or "FSJ." FSJ was a voluntary organization that church members could support to take activist positions on controversial issues. It would be the voice of its members, though, not the voice of the church as a whole. That organization, and that model, is alive and well today.

The Freedom of Conscience movement is a lasting legacy of Paul Beattie. Though the resolution itself was tabled, the movement itself influenced significant reform in the UUA. Today, the resolutions that come before the General Assembly are subject to a two year study process before they can be adopted. This procedure helps to insure that passing political fads are weaned out, and impulsive radical language is moderated. The resolution process has changed dramatically, and Beattie is probably the one most responsible for that positive change.

Beattie's name remains among the most remembered and respected, largely from the work he did while at All Souls.

After leaving here, as I say, he went to Pittsburgh and found himself to be a good match with that church. He continued his leadership of the Fellowship of Religious Humanists, his editorship of the group's magazine, and his advocacy of dissenting views within the UUA.

The next six years in Pittsburgh were good ones. In May of 1989, Beattie entered the hospital facing open heart surgery. It was not successful. A few days later, to the shock of everyone who knew him, he died from complications of the surgery. He was only 52 years old.

At his memorial service, many colleagues offered their words of esteem, mostly for the personal character they experienced as his friend. One of his closest friends was Earl Holt, minister of the Unitarian Church in St. Louis. The fact that Earl is theologically conservative (by Unitarian measure) - at the opposite end of the Unitarian spectrum from humanism - speaks to the power of personality and character that overcomes ideology. Here is part of what Earl had to say:

"Those who knew him only as an intellectual and thoughtful person, who knew only the intellectual and thoughtful side of him, missed what was the best part of him. He was the most loving, tender-hearted person I have ever known. His laughter was robust and his passion and joy in life were contagious. Tears would flow down his cheeks as he listened to music or read from Shakespeare, more deeply moved by their beauty."

Finally, his tribute was echoed by Bill Schulz, then President of the UUA, and who was raised in the Pittsburgh church:

"He was a model Unitarian Universalist. Never afraid to speak his mind on matters theological or political, Paul was one who truly heard those who disagreed with him, and loved them still. And they in turn returned that love."

READING From Paul Beattie, "Twenty Years in a Unitarian Pulpit,"

delivered April 15, 1984

First Unitarian Church of Pittsburgh

"The discipline of freedom we have set for ourselves is quite extraordinary. In twenty years as Unitarian minister, I have known only a few active members of the churches I have served who were not able to live comfortably with freedom of the pulpit. Most Unitarian Universalists have come to accept this freedom as a necessity in our religious life. In practical terms it means being a part of a church and supporting it even when your minister believes in God and you do not, or vice versa; or supporting your church when your minister is active in political causes with which you do not agree, or is not active in political causes you serve.

"Obviously, part of the discipline of the free pulpit comes from the minister's side; (they) must make certain that opinions contrary to (their) own are given a fair hearing. Freedom of the pew also means that ministers may try to persuade parishioners to their views, but it does not mean that a minister has the right perpetually to beat people over the head with a view with which they do not agree. Unitarian ministers have the right to speak the truth in love even when they espouse sentiments that are unpopular with their own congregation; but there should come a time in any unsuccessful attempt at persuasion when both parties must simply accept that agreement does not exist and should not be compelled. It has always seemed to me that the quality of religious community and the viability of our religious institution is more important than any single religious or political issue; it is better to keep people talking, especially when dialogue is occurring in our own religious family, than it is to dissolve the bonds that unite us because of some ideological difference."