“THE ELECTION SERMON”
A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear
Sunday, October 31, 2004
All
Who says Unitarian Universalists
aren’t traditionalist!?!
There is a tradition going back over
300 years that I’ve been trying almost single handedly to keep alive. It is called an “Election Day Sermon.” The tradition was born in colonial
In the pre-revolutionary American
colonies, one of the few official holidays was called "Election
Day," though there were no elections held on that day. It was, rather, the day on which public
officials, mostly appointed by the British governor, were installed in
office. What today we might call an
"Installation Day," or “Inauguration Day,” they called an "Election
Day," and it was a huge holiday.
Back then, on Election Day, all
stores and schools would close, there would be parades and picnics and
celebrations. And, of course, there
would be speeches. The most important
speech, the keynote address, would be given by the local minister, and that
keynote speech was referred to as the "Election Day Sermon."
Election Day sermons are recorded as
early as 1633 in
Perhaps I appeal to this great old
tradition out of nostalgia for the days when ministers had a voice that was
heard. In fact, these Election Day
sermons were printed – often at government expense and often in the newspapers
-- and widely distributed to the population.
According to historian William Warren Sweet, the themes of these Election
Sermons were "discussed and re-discussed in pulpits throughout
Can you imagine people actually
listening to a sermon, and then reading it in the newspaper the next day, and
then re-reading it in pamphlet form, and then discussing it for weeks? Can you imagine gathering all the elected
officials, all the movers and the shakers, together in one room, and spending
an hour or more giving them a piece of your mind? You can talk right to them, and they can't
talk back. Those may have been
the good old days.
Yes, those were the days when the
people listened to their ministers. And
it may not be entirely coincidental that those were also the days when innocent
people were tortured and executed as witches, too.
This Election Day tradition
continued for more than a century, well into the period of the founding of the
For a variety of reasons, not the
least of which is the eventual separation of church and state demanded by the
Constitution, the Election Day Sermon tradition died of natural causes, and
justifiably so. Yet there is a kernel of
value in that tradition that I'm not willing to let die. The issues that face us in any major election
are often also issues that face our religious conscience: justice, compassion, respect for individuals,
freedom, and war and peace. In my 20
years as a minister, every time a presidential election rolls around, I revive
some of the spirit of the Election Day Sermon.
It is a quadrennial tradition of my own, and today represents just my
most recent attempt at resurrecting that spirit.
The blending of politics and
religion is complicated stuff. While
there is a religious imperative, I believe, to speak to issues of justice, for
example, it is inappropriate in a democracy for religious institutions or their
spokes-people to give official endorsement of any specific candidate. Such endorsements are also illegal, and for
good reason. The tax exempt status of
religious institutions should not be tied to partisan politics, or beholden to
specific politicians.
The complexity of this issue is even
more pronounced in our Unitarian Universalist tradition. At the center of our religious movement is respect
for freedom – the right of each person to his or her own convictions. I am aware that political opinions differ
widely in this congregation, for example.
More than that, I am proud that they do.
To the extent that we can have diversity of opinion, we are illustrating
our religious values of respect for diversity.
On the other hand, it has long been
a tradition among us that issues of public importance not be ignored on Sunday
morning. We have, what we call, a
"free pulpit," affirming that anyone speaking to this community is
invited to do so freely and openly. We
also respect what some have called, "freedom of the pew,"
acknowledging the right of anyone to disagree with whatever is being said.
With this introduction, I would like
to turn more directly to my thoughts about Election Day 2004, and the issues
that, in my view, should concern us, particularly at the national level. I shape my thoughts this morning by drawing
from an actual Election Day Sermon I found some time ago. It was originally delivered in 1754 by
Jonathan Mayhew, minister of the West Church of Boston from 1746 to 1766. Mayhew is viewed by historians as a precursor
of the Unitarian movement that would become organized 50 years or so later, and
many of the themes of his sermon to the officials that day are themes entirely
relevant today.
One comment that he made to those officials is, it seems to me, a universal insight that applies to any
election we face. He said this to the
newly installed officials:
"It is desired that legislators would consider
how much their posterity may be affected by their conduct and
counsel. The effect of public measures
and proceedings, whether good or bad, is not so
transient as some may suppose. Even
remote generations often feel the consequences of them. By wise and good laws, and by proper conduct
in other respects, the rulers of a people lay a foundation... not only for the
welfare of the present generation, but for the prosperity of those who are to
come after."
If this is true, then our central
litmus test for voting is the way the candidates deal with issues which affect
future generations more than our own immediate welfare. It seems to me that this is always sound
advice. In the present election, I see
at least three issues that are vital for future generations – our
posterity: the environment, social
security and the rising national debt.
There are substantial differences
between the parties on these concerns.
Unless we learn to develop renewable resources for energy, our
grandchildren will quite literally run out of gas. Unless we find ways to stabilize social
security, our grandchildren will spend their retirement in poverty. Unless we stop overspending our national
budgets, our grandchildren will be working hard to pay the debts that we
incurred.
A century after Mayhew, another
Unitarian minister, James Freeman Clarke, wrote that the difference between
"a politician and a statesman is that a politician thinks of the next
election, and a statesman thinks of the next generation." That comment has been quoted widely over the
years, and with good reason. On issues
that affect the future so profoundly, I hope we will cast our votes for a
statesman.
If I had the candidates gathered
before me, as Mayhew did in 1754, I would say something like this: "please keep us looking ahead. Don't appeal to our lesser instincts, don't
appeal to our personal greed, but please model for us how to respect the
future, and apply those values to economic, environmental, and other future-oriented
issues"
Let me turn to another comment from
Mayhew's 1754 Election Day sermon. At
the time of Mayhew's sermon, he was speaking to loyal subjects of the English
King, a king who was, indeed, considered to be God's emissary, the head of the
Church of England. To those government
officials, he said this:
"The doctrine that rulers are God's ministers,
and clothed with authority delegated from Him, has far too often been made such
use of, as a topic of compliment and adulation, in order to soothe them, and to
puff them up with vain imaginations of their own importance."
Those were courageous words at the
time. The Revolution was still more than
20 years away, and it was not common to speak adversely of the King. But the fact remains that too often, then and
now, government sees itself, and politicians see themselves, as God's
representative on earth.
The irony is that some of that
nonsense remains on our political landscape 250 years later. I have no objection to a candidate’s religious
values informing their policy decisions.
I cannot expect it any other way.
But I do have an objection when candidates present their policies as
having some kind of divine stamp of approval.
It remains alarming how frequently today's candidates "clothe"
themselves with holy authority.
Explicit mention of religion in this
presidential race has become a popular media discussion topic. I am frightened, as was Mayhew in his day, if
a political leader tells us what God thinks – even if it is a lofty and noble
sentiment like “God wants the world to be free.” Once a politician starts speaking for God,
then the legitimate give-and-take of democratic debate is lost. Once we allow a politician to speak for God
on one topic, then there is no justification for stopping that approach to any
topic. If we endorse a politician’s word
that “God wants the world to be free,” for example, there is no reason to hold
that politician accountable for what he thinks are God’s opinions about such
subjects as abortion rights or same-sex marriage.
The consequences of this kind of
thinking are exceedingly dangerous.
Politicians who are drunk with the illusion of their own divine mission
invariably see no justification for those who oppose them. They are, after all, only promoting God's
policies, and no one has a right to oppose God.
Mayhew was well aware that officials
who believe they are doing God's work inevitably turn toward persecution and
oppression. History knows few exceptions
to this rule. Mayhew drew a very vivid
picture of this fact. By looking at
history, he said,
"Kings could not be nursing fathers, nor queens nursing mothers to the church, unless they
suckled her with human blood, and fed her with the flesh of those whom angry
ecclesiastics are pleased to stigmatize with names of heretics, schismatics,
and infidels."
And
just in case you think Mayhew was mincing words on this topic, here is another
comment he made concerning politicians who exploit religion for political
gain:
“The notion of any
particular form of government explicitly instituted by God...is not drawn from
the holy scriptures, but from a far less pure and
sacred fountain. This notion is only a
device of lawned parasites, or other graceless politicians, to serve the
purposes of ambition and tyranny.”
If I were to speak to the officials
elected on Tuesday, I might say this:
"Recognize your humanity, and honor it. We are not electing you as God's
spokesperson, much less as God. Yours is
a human office, and you are called by humans to serve us. We know you'll make mistakes. We do too.
But you will make fewer of them if you acknowledge your own humanity and
fallibility. Don't pretend that you're
doing God's work, but rest secure if you are doing the best work you can. Let us deal with the gods in our own way, and
not through you."
Let me shift to another concern from
Mayhew's 1754 sermon. He told those
gathered officials that the purpose of government was to promote the general
welfare of all, not just of the few.
These were part of his words.
"The end of all just government is the
improvement and welfare of society. We
cannot imagine it possible that (God) who is good to all, and is no respecter
of persons, should exalt a few persons to power over all others, to be their
oppressers; or that they may amass riches, live in ease and luxury, and receive
the homage of millions, without doing them any good."
Though I have a little trouble with
his theology, I believe Mayhew's political theory is as sound today as it was
then -- in some ways more so. The
purpose of government is to promote the general welfare of all, and not
just the few. We live in an era of
corporate scandal, and during a time when the gap between rich and poor is
widening. Looking at such recent events
as the Enron episode and its various cousin scandals, it seems the Age of
Robber Barrons is returning.
For quite some time now, there has
been an important debate in this country over the role of government, and that
debate is a large part of this year’s election.
Some argue that government should not be involved in social welfare
programs at all, and help to the needy should simply be a job of volunteer
charities, like churches.
In fact, when our government was
established, it explicitly established the general welfare of the people as one
of its purposes. I have long felt that
the Preamble to our constitution contains one of the most important statements
about what this country is about, or should be about, and we too often overlook
it. Here is how it is worded:
"We the people of the United States, in order to
form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility,
provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the
blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish
this Constitution."
It is the business of
government to attend to the welfare of all, as well as to establish justice,
and secure the blessings of liberty. I
don’t think there can be any question, for example, that it is a legitimate
duty of government to see to it that all Americans have access to decent
medical care, regardless of wealth. We
may have reasonable disagreements about how that is best done, but there is no
question in my mind that the general welfare, and specifically in this case,
public health, is part of the government’s responsibility.
If I had the elected officials
before me, I would probably quote Mayhew directly: “‘The end of all
just government is the improvement and welfare of society.’ So stop quibbling about whether
the government should be involved in insuring such programs as health care and
education and fighting poverty, but talk instead about how
government can best insure that these programs are effective.”
There is one other category of
concern I wish to address in this year’s Election Day Sermon. That is the war, and the role of the
I’ve made no secret about the fact
that I think it was a mistake for our country to invade
There are a number of priorities, of
course – establishing stability in Iraq, protecting both our troops and the
Iraqi people, insuring local rule, promoting democracy, and so forth. Our work is cut out for us.
But for me there is one concern that
rises to the top of the list, and all other priorities will benefit from this
one. We need to re-establish respect for
the
If I had the elected officials
before me this day, I would probably say something like this: “To the extent
that American freedoms are compromised to protect security at home, the
terrorists will have won. To the extent
that our country becomes an outlaw among nations, feared rather than respected,
the terrorists will have won. We cannot
let the terrorists win by our own hand.”
In the last few weeks, this
presidential contest has become increasingly heated and even at times
bitter. I don’t blame the candidates for
that; the blame rests, I suspect on their respective “handlers.” That may be as expected since it appears to
be such a close race. Bitter
presidential elections are not uncommon, and by comparison, this one seems a
notch or two kinder and gentler than some.
Thomas Jefferson was condemned in 1800 as an infidel and atheist because
of his unorthodox religious views.
Andrew Jackson was called an "adulterer" because it appeared
his wife of 20 years may not have been legally divorced from her first
husband. In 1848, Zachary Taylor's party
attacked his opponent, Senator Lewis Cass, as "a pot-bellied,
mutton-headed cucumber." In 1860,
the Houston Telegraph endorsed Stephen A. Douglas against Abraham Lincoln, and
had this to say about
"
More recent elections have included
charges questioning the patriotism and loyalty of opponents. This year, questions of military service,
going back forty years, have been on the front burner of charges and
counter-charges.
It is encouraging that polls predict
a higher voter turnout than in most previous elections. It is scandalous that
Whoever wins the election this
Tuesday – let’s hope it is this Tuesday! – will have a long list of tasks to
do: stabilizing the economy, securing social security, assuring American health
care, establishing peace and security in Iraq, protecting against terrorism,
and healing a polarized citizenry.
That is quite a list, indeed. In addition, there are two top priority
concerns that you and I must see get done, because I can pretty much guarantee
whoever wins will not give them much attention.
The first is real and effective campaign finance reform. The winner, as I say, will probably not make
this much of a priority because the current corrupt political financing system
helped put him in office.
The recent election teaches us that
the previous attempt at reform isn’t working.
It is still the case that the single most important factor in who gets
elected to office is who is able to raise the most campaign money. It is also still the case that politicians
are beholden to special interests that fund them – whether it’s business or
labor, right wing or left wing. Maybe
“reform” isn’t the correct word to use here.
Maybe we need a complete overhaul of the system of financing
campaigns. Other countries do it
successfully with federally financed advertizing. It is time to look for alternatives in which
democracy doesn’t become a commodity sold to the highest bidders.
The second top priority that has
become increasingly obvious with this and the last election is eliminating the electoral college system.
Again, you can rest assured that the election’s winner will have little
incentive to change a system, however dysfunctional, that put him in
office. It will be up to “we the
people.”
It is a sad fact, but it is a fact
nonetheless, that here in
Including the current President,
there have been four Presidents take office who received fewer votes than their
opponent. This is not democracy, and
everyone knows it. It is fairly
presumptuous of us to pretend toward bestowing democracy around the world when
we don’t even care to fix our own system that is broken.
So these two issues – campaign
finance and the electoral college system – need our
attention, and need it soon, because we can’t count on the winner to repair a
corrupt system that got them elected.
If I had the elected officials
before me this morning, I’d say something like this: “Help us improve this democratic system by
eliminating the influence of money by special interests, and by eliminating the
electoral college system so every vote counts. If you’re not willing to help us do that,
then please get out of the way so we can do it ourselves.”
Having said all that, though, I have
to say that these election seasons are not only good for the soul of the
nation, they make me, and I hope everyone, more committed to our country and
its principles. Even as early in our
history as the 1830s, Alexis de Toqueville observed how devoted our society is
to its freedom. These quadrennial
national elections are important reminders of that value. My last observation from
Mayhew's 1754 Election Sermon which acknowledges that the struggle for common
good by the political system is well worth it.
"The public good... is the end of
government. It is also such a noble and
excellent one, that the prospect of attaining it will
animate to the pursuit; and, being attained, it will reward all the pains and
efforts used."
The election season is vital for our
health as a nation. This country has
survived some spectacularly bad Presidents and some spectacularly bad
policies. Most of us here, at one time
or another, have awakened the day after an election – or in at least one case,
the month after an election – to discover that our candidate lost. We come to learn that our country is stronger
than any single politician. We come to
learn that life goes on, and so much of what is worthy of celebration in life
transcends even the bad choices that democracies sometimes make.
In the recent TIME magazine issue,
Garrison Keillor, who elsewhere wrote very strongly of his political choice
this year, writes instead on how we as a nation ought to be able to come
together after a heated election and honor our life together as citizens and as
human beings. He offers a suggestions for those who will discover that their
candidate lost. Here is part of what he
said:
“What will reconcile us is what has always restored
our sanity, and that is the plain pleasures of the physical world, our common
love of coffee, the world of apples, the movements of birds, the lives of dogs,
the touch of skin. Music. Dancing to music. Shooting baskets. Shooting conservatively, scoring
liberally. Lacing up
our skates, gliding through the dusk.
Having worked ourselves into a fever over the future of Western
civilization, we will now begin enjoying our oatmeal again, with raisins. The beauty of engagement is disengagement. You simply put on your jacket and walk out
the door and find good health.
“. . . . The neighbors are expecting a baby girl. My daughter is taking up the cello. My mother is game for more Scrabble. There is wood to be cut in the family
woodlot. I’ve been a prisoner of the New
York Times and have read enough for a while and want to get loose. Next week, I’m out of here. . . .”
READING
from “Democracy in
No sooner do you set foot upon
American soil than you are stunned by a kind of tumult; a confused clamour is
heard on every side and a thousand simultaneous voices demand the immediate
satisfaction of their social wants.
Everything is in motion around you; here, the people of one quarter of a
town are met to decide upon the building of a church; there, the election of a
representative is going on; a little further the delegates of a district are
posting to the town in order to consult upon some local improvements; or in
another place the laborers of a village quit their ploughs to deliberate upon
the project of a road or public school.
The cares of political life take a
most prominent place in the occupation of a citizen of the United States, and
almost the only pleasure of which an American has any idea is to take a part in
Government, and to discuss the part taken.
This feeling pervades the most trifling habits of life; even the women
frequently attend public meetings and listen to political harangues as a
recreation after their household labours.
Debating clubs are to a certain extent a substitute for theatrical
entertainment. An American cannot
converse, but he can discuss; and when he attempts to talk, he falls into a
discussion.
I am persuaded that, if ever a
despotic government is established in