“THE PEOPLE’S COVENANT”

A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear

Sunday, November 7, 2004

All Souls Unitarian Church

Indianapolis, Indiana

Few words in the English language are as equivocal as the word “myth.” That is, the word “myth” can be used either pejoratively, or with praise and acclamation. Used pejoratively, a “myth” is a story that is untrue, a lie, a fiction, as in “Oh, that’s all just a big myth.” When used positively, the word “myth” identifies a fictional story which reveals a message or a moral that is profoundly true.

George Washington did not cut down the cherry tree and confess to his father. That story is just a myth. But George Washington was a deeply honest man who friends say would never tell a lie, and the cherry tree story is a simple myth that honors the honesty of George Washington.

A myth is a story that we believe in, not because it is factually true, but because it reveals some kind of truth that goes deeper than fact.

Let me offer two stories that describe the human condition. Both stories are true, as myths are true. And both stories are false, as myths are false.

You probably heard the first story many years ago when you studied the history of ideas. You may have forgotten the story, but you have certainly not forgotten its moral. The story came from John Locke, and especially Jean Jacques Rousseau. It is a story called "the state of nature."

To understand what is the essence of human nature, Rousseau invited us to imagine (and he meant imagine, because he admitted this was an imaginary story) how humans lived before there was an organized society, before there was any government or schools or courts. Imagine life before royal monarchs, before tribal chiefs, and even before the I.R.S. Go back in your mind to human life not propped-up by the supports of social organizations that regulate how we live. Back to a time without laws that control how we work or govern our behavior toward each other. Back before divorce, and even before marriage. Back before child labor laws, or for that matter, even before such a concept of employment.

If you go back in your mind, he said, far enough, you will be able to conceive of human life in its most natural state – what is called "the state of nature." In the view of Locke and Rousseau, the human state of nature is an existence of supreme liberty and independence. It is a time of quintessential human freedom. We are answerable to no one, we are responsible to no one, and we shape our own lives without outside interference. And as individuals, we do not hinder or bother or impose on each other. We are all free. And that freedom arises from the richness of creation. This myth conforms with the Biblical account of Eden before the Fall:

"And God said, 'Let the earth bring forth living creatures according to their kinds...' And it was so.... And God saw that it was good. Then God said, 'Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth.' So God created man in his own image... male and female he created them. And God blessed them and said, 'Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed which is upon the face of the earth and every tree with seed in its fruit, and every beast of the earth and every bird of the air.' And it was so. And God saw everything he had made, and behold, it was good."

The story of the state of nature reflects the purity expressed in the myth of the Garden. The earth is pure and we are pure. Creation is sufficient unto itself, and we are sufficient unto ourselves. The world was created, in its natural state, for us to enjoy and use.

This, the story goes, is the state of nature, and so the natural essence of being human is to be free, to be the captains of our own fates, the masters of our own destinies. It is from Rousseau ‘s myth that we get the concept known as "the noble savage."

The story of this state of nature tells the myth of the human being who is self-sufficient, who can cope and live independently, and with initiative and imagination create a meaningful life. This myth entails a mythos about the meaning of human existence. We're all familiar with it: it has to do with the individual autonomy, or as we know it, "rugged individualism." This story, and the mythos that accompanies it might be summed up in a line from Ibsen's play "Enemy of the People," in which the hero claims that "the strongest (person) in the world is (the one) who stands most alone."

Now I offer a counter story, and a counter myth. There are those who would point out that the purity and the innocence that was Eden obviously didn't last very long, and that evil and corruption very quickly worked its way into this ideal world. Whether illustrated by the tribal wars of primeval civilization, or symbolized by the temptations of the snake in the myth of Genesis, the fact is that human beings, on their own, as rugged individuals, can not for very long enjoy happiness without wrestling with the very messy business of simply getting along with each other. Thus was society born. Even Rousseau admitted the necessity of society which, he lamented, extracts us from our natural state.

The counter story suggests that the highest human project – far from struggling alone – is to struggle together. The myth of the rugged individual doesn’t work if there is more than one person on earth, and each wants the same apple from the same tree. This story suggests that the state of nature tale is imaginary, and that as long as there is more than one human being on the earth, true human nature at its highest seeks ways of cooperation and living collectively.

The condition of being human is essentially no different from the condition of any other animal, for like colonies of ants or flocks of birds, it is our true nature to form societies and communities. If we wish to be successful as individuals, we do as animals living in societies do – we surrender some of our autonomy to the needs of the group. According to this story, we honor our nature when we succeed in communal living; we degrade our nature if we pretend to self-sufficiency and stubbornly demand emotional independence from society. In short, to be human is to need others: others in the form of families and communities and associations of society, as well as governments and laws of justice.

In the extreme, that person who insists on complete independence of life, who disavows the love and protection of family, the trust and support of friends, the protections and standards and laws of society, is viewed at least as eccentric, if not sick and emotionally unstable.

This is the story of what it means to be civilized, which is, according to the advocates of this story, the real noble condition of humanity. The so-called rugged individual, that independent person, is ultimately a failure and violates this natural human state. In this story, Rousseau's myth of a noble savage, who in a natural state is courageous and virtuous, is absurd. To be human is rather to attend to getting along with each other, to shaping society, and not in living some undefiled independent life. When Rousseau sent Voltaire his essay about human beings in the state of nature, Voltaire replied in a letter with scorn:

"I have received your new book against the human race, and thank you for it. Never was such cleverness used in the design of making us all stupid. One longs, in reading your book, to walk on all fours. But as I have lost that habit for more than sixty years, I feel unhappily the impossibility of resuming it. Nor can I embark in search of the savages of Canada, because the maladies to which I am condemned render a European surgeon necessary to me; and because war is going on in those regions."

Over the centuries, there have been countless efforts by those who believe this second story, in the myth of the human social animal, to create a society that is thoroughly fair and just, even utopian. The myth of Eden is replaced with the myth of "The Promised Land," and social planners in many cultures have been convinced that society can be scientifically structured to assure happiness. This myth of humans as social animals produces its own mythos, in contrast to the mythos of the rugged individual. It is a mythos of structuring a society that provides the same abundance that the Eden story promises.

Where the first story teaches that we are the masters of our own destiny, this second story teaches that human good fortune is encountered through social cooperation and organization. Society can correct the injustices of nature.

This story was the dream of the pilgrims and the vision of this country's founders, and has been the foundation of hundreds of utopian communities throughout the Western world. It is also reflected in every law that passed by any government agency.

This story of the social foundation of happiness also has its biblical roots, different from the Genesis story. Those roots are found in the book of Acts, in which the writer is reporting on the creation of new Christian communities throughout the region, and describes the communities this way:

"And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and one soul.... they had all things in common.... Neither was there any among them that lacked: for as many as were possessors of lands or houses, sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet: and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need."

So I offer these two stories in contrast. In one the greatness of the human condition is in the greatness of individuality, in the autonomous person. In the other, the greatness of our species is in our social cooperation, in the just communal society. Over the centuries, each story has been acted out, sometimes in its own caricature. When the myth of the rugged individual has reigned, inevitably certain individuals gain power to exploit over others, and an elite few dominate society at the expense of many. We see this happen when there is great disparity in a society between the rich and poor, a disparity in this country that led more than a generation ago to the collapse of our economy in the Great Depression. When the other myth – of dependency on society for salvation – has ruled, what becomes inevitable has been restrictions on freedom and the discouragement of creative expressions. This was displayed for all the world to see when we glimpsed at the communist societies when they finally fell apart.

We have come to the place, I think, where we need to recognize that both stories or myths contain truth, but neither contains sufficient truth. The Garden of Eden myth of the autonomous individual is not enough; the communal myth of salvation through social planning is not enough. It is time for a new story.

We are ready, I think, for a new story of the human condition. Not just as a society, but as a species, it is time to understand ourselves differently. That new story, as I see it, involves a sense of covenant, a sense of responsibility, a sense of promise to each other. What is needed at this time, I think, is an affirmation of the human race in a relationship of respect for each other, and with the rest of creation. An affirmation of relationship is another form of covenant.

There is some confusion about the meaning of covenant. A covenant is quite simply an agreement, a promise people make to each other. The word is used in legal circles as synonymous with “contract,” and that meaning works well. But the word covenant goes beyond just the legal sense of contract, and involves an acknowledgment of personal relationship, an acknowledgment of respect for others, and almost spiritual sense of relationship. It involves a respect for the very personhood, the soul, of those joining in that covenant.

The idea of covenant is also an ancient story. The ancient Hebrew people built their entire religious customs around the idea of a covenant between the people of Israel and their God. That covenant provided laws to be followed by the people and the blessings that God would bestow on the nation. Those laws – that covenant – were precious and holy. Every synagogue, even today, is built with a special shrine where the covenant – the written description of the relationship between God and the Jewish community – is kept and preserved.

This religious notion of covenant, of relationship, was largely lost in the first millennium of Christianity. Relationships with and among believers became more authoritarian and hierarchical than covenantal, until the notion of covenant was finally reclaimed within the radical wing of the Reformation. The religious covenantal impulse was strongest among the English and Dutch Protestant dissenters who brought those ideas with them when they came here as Pilgrims and Puritans.

For them, the idea of covenant took on a somewhat different quality than it did with the Hebrew tradition. While covenant included the Hebrew idea of an agreement between a people and their God, it also included the agreements among people of faith as well. While churches in Europe remained mostly hierarchical, with power imposed from the top down, on these shores the churches became self-determining.

The heart of a covenant is, as I say, a relationship and agreement among equals. It establishes the promises we make to each other in relationship.

It seems to me that this sense of covenant is what is needed in our new story, our new myth of the human condition. More specifically what is needed now, I think, is a covenant of respect for differences. This covenant, this new story of relationship and respect for differences, can retrieve the truth that is found in the old stories, too: the story of individual worth and the story of social need. The new story can incorporate the truths of these myths, but also unfold new truths through new myths. The new myth is one of relationships.

What is entailed by a covenant of relationships? A new covenant of relationships is, above all I believe, a promise of mutuality and respect. There is no promise more desperately needed at this time.

Our country, for example, just went through an election process that is worth celebrating. Our constitution provides a form of covenant that binds us all together. That covenant is working, and no matter how divided an electorate may have been, this is time to keep our eyes on the covenant, a statement of mutuality and respect.

It is time for a new story of the human condition, and that story to me urges us toward a covenant that embraces diversity. The human race is not well practiced in respect for diversity. I believe it is time to learn.

Such respect honors the truth of the old story of individual autonomy and worth to the extent that it does value individuals in all their differences. Such respect honors the truth of the old story of the human being as a social animal to the extent that it does cultivate a relationship of cooperation among diverse people in society.

But the new story of relationships moves beyond the old stories. One old story ends with the human being as a rugged individual, and taught the lesson of ultimate personal autonomy. Relationship goes beyond that lesson. The other old story ends with the human being as a social animal, taught the lesson of surrender of autonomy for a better society. That is not the lesson of relationships. The new story of the human being as a part of a web of relationships teaches the lesson of respect.

This is a time to search for a new story, and it may be found, I think, in a new sense of covenant, of human beings as relationships. It would lead us, in the end, to understanding the "I" as part of "We." That we're all in this life together. That sentiment was expressed by Jessica Tuchman Mathews, an environmental scientist and vice-president of World Resources Institute. In speaking of our need as a species to change our attitude toward the planet, Ms. Mathews said this:

"We're going to need a new sense of shared destiny. We are the only planet in the universe that we know about where there is life... and we're in this together. We, the family of nations, are going to have to develop somehow some shared sense, almost like a joint business venture, that we work together, or we're all going to suffer."

I can think of no more necessary new covenant than this. May we look upon the differences we have around us and affirm, as is affirmed in the myth of creation, that "it is good."