"THE BEST OF TIMES; THE WORST OF TIMES"

A sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear

Sunday, January 7, 2007

All Souls Unitarian Church

Indianapolis, Indiana

A New Year is a good time – perhaps the best time, I think – to assess where we have been, where we are, and where we are going as a society. What is the meaning of the age we live in, and what is the meaning of the age we long to shape for tomorrow.

Many of you will recognize my title as plagiarized from the opening lines of Charles’ Dickens’ book, A Tale of Two Cities. These famous lines are often cited because, I think, they are so universal. Most of it could have been written about any period in history. It certainly captures how many of us feel today. The book begins this way:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

Those words were published by Dickens in 1859. I want to go back a few years earlier, though, to 1841, when William Ellery Channing gave his own assessment of the best and worst of his times. Channing was the founder of American Unitarianism, and his Philadelphia lecture delivered in 1841 entitled “The Present Age,” became widely popular.

Eighteen forty-one. They were only one generation away from the establishment of the United States of America, and many alive could remember that pivotal time. The flowering of American culture was at a peak – great art, literature, and poetry was being created which was defining the youthful nation. The Civil War was still twenty years away.

In 1841, when William Ellery Channing lectured on the character of the age in which he was living, he used flowering prose to describe the state of optimism that permeated his generation. He celebrated that optimism, grasping it tightly as a child might grab for candy in a candy store. "There has sprung up," he said,

Aa faith of which antiquity knew nothing, in the final victory of truth and right.... This faith is taking its place among the great springs of human action, is becoming even a passion in more fervent spirits. I hail it as a prophesy which is to fulfill itself.... This hope lightens the mystery and burden of life. It is a star which shines on me in the darkest night.@

As I read those words, I am taken by how foreign they sound to us today. "A faith in the final victory of truth and right"? Anyone who would pen such words today would probably be written off as, at best, an starry‑eyed do‑gooder, or at worst, as someone who has a screw loose somewhere, and is not in touch with reality. As the twenty-first century unfolds, many seem to think that to be "realistic" sometimes means to be cynical or pessimistic – or, if not cynical and pessimistic, at least to be suspicious of any predictions that truth and right have a fair chance for victory.

Channing's remarks on life and thought in 1841 have a chilling unreality to them today in some contexts. The title I have chosen, AThe Best of Times; The Worst of Times,@ draws attention to the irony that is our own age. We have a lot going for us now, but we cannot ignore the very real problems that threaten us -- that even threaten our existence.

As we launch ourselves into this still new century, our inclination is to evaluate our present age by looking back at the last century to understand where we are going. The twentieth century, in some ways, could cultivate in us a cynical view of life. We went through two wars of a world-wide scale, a global economic depression, the threat of nuclear annihilation, the rise and fall of major dictatorial regimes, and a new awareness of environmental fragility that challenges our attitude toward progress.

I do not intend to be a prophet of doom and gloom this morning. Most of you know that is not in my nature. I have previously suggested from this pulpit that I probably belong back in the nineteenth century -- the golden days of optimism that Channing so eloquently represented. The cynicism of the twentieth century is not my natural posture. Yet if there were a train leaving today, on which I could ride back to the nineteenth century, I would not climb aboard. Our age, it seems to me, is an exciting, challenging, and wonderfully compelling age that I would not willingly leave for any reason. And before I finish this morning, I hope you'll know why.

The New Year holiday is a great time to take stock of one=s present life, and look backward and forward. It is my guess that at almost any New Year, it is both appropriate and important to understand both the best and worst of the times in which we live. More important, though, is to find that which is worthy of affirming, and redirecting our energies toward bringing about an even better time, for ourselves and for our society.

My message to you this morning is essentially the same message that Channing offered his audience 156 years ago. He began his lecture entitled "The Present Age" with these words:

AI wish to say what the age is, and not to be its advocate; and yet I hope to lead you to look tenderly and trustfully on it, to love it, and to resolve, with generous, stout hearts, that you will serve it.@

Like all ages, we experience this age as the best of times and the worst of times. In fact Dickens implied that this phrase can appropriately describe many ages. Perhaps all of them. It is my observation today that we most need to be reminded of the best, for the worst constantly imposes itself on our consciousness. Few people need to be reminded of the dangers and risks of living at this opening of a new century.

The accomplishments of our age, to be sure, are not insignificant. Many of them are in the area of science and technology. It is our age that was able to achieve many of the scientific and poetic dreams of all history, not only by traveling through space, but actually walking on the moon. We have been able to eradicate specific diseases, though new ones keep cropping up. One measure of progress is life expectancy, and this age enjoys the longest life span of any civilization.

Our communication capability is perhaps the most astounding advance of this age. Radio, telephones, televisions, satellites, computers, fax machines, the internet -- all of these twentieth century inventions have advanced communication and information exchange far beyond anything imaginable before. As the twenty-first century continues to unfold, most of us are excited about discovering what the next communication advances will be.

And technology does not account for all our progress. There has been significant progress in human relations. Our age has extended the concept of equal rights beyond the boundaries of our original democratic experiment. While there is still much to be done in this area, at least our society has reached somewhat of a consensus about equal rights for women and minorities. Such a consensus would have been shocking to most people a century ago.

One can even point to some progress in relations among nations. International cooperation among nations has made amazing strides, beginning with a weak attempt at a League of Nations in the early 20^th century, and a somewhat stronger United Nations later, as well as a strong network of treaties and agreements. This century has been a century of nationalistic ideologies, and after the defeat of Nazism and the fall of communism, its seems that ideological bases for international animosity is on its way out the door, though other animosities remain.

No one can deny the progress of our age. Our culture has a far greater standard of living than it ever has had. There is more opportunity for more classes of people through today's widespread public education. There are more options, more choices, more alternatives for us to shape our lives and future than there has been for any previous generation.

But somehow the list of thousands of advances in our age is moderated by the list of new dangers and problems. Somehow, it is more difficult for most people to celebrate the strides of technical progress, at the risk of ignoring the many new problems we face. Some of our problems are perennial ones, not limited to our age alone. To be sure, Channing spent some time in his 1841 lecture detailing the problems of his own age. Many of them continue today.

Perhaps chief among the 19th century problems that Channing cited was the people's appetite for material possession at the expense of higher values. The words he used could be offered as a critique of our own age. He wrote,

AThe saddest aspect of the age to me...is the absorption of the multitude of people in outward, material interests; it is the selfish prudence which is never tired of the labor of accumulation, and which keeps people steady, regular, respectable drudges from morning to night.... It is a sad thought that the infinite energies of the soul have no higher end than to cover the back, and fill the belly, and keep caste in society.... The vast activity of this age is too much confined to the sensual and material, to gain and pleasure and show. Could this activity be swayed and purified by a noble aim, not a single comfort would be retrenched, whilst its beauty and grace and interest would be unspeakably increased.@

The other major problem of his age was what he called "the spirit of collision, contention, discord, which breaks forth in religion, in politics, in business, in private affairs -- result and necessary issue of the selfishness which prompts the endless activity of life."

These problems are still our problems: a society rooted fundamentally in the value of material acquisition as well as a factionalized, often contentious, and sometimes battling society.

But while these problems continue -- they seem perennial -- they also appear almost insignificant compared with the more major and indeed unique problems of our age. Today's problems, in a very real sense, and for the first time in human history, are GLOBAL problems. There is virtually no where to go and hide from consequences of environmental destruction; nor can we escape the consequences of instability in one region of the world with our own stability. It is technology that permits, today, small bands of terrorists to threaten destruction far beyond their actual numbers. There is no certain escape from any tiny band of fanatics, anywhere in the world, who wish to exploit easy technology and spread fatal damage on innocent lives. Our most serious problems are global in scope.

As imposing as our problems are, I still think we live in the “best of times.” I told you I would not board a train bound for the nineteenth century, however much it seems to my liking. It is worth providing a reason why I prefer our era.

The first, and perhaps most obvious, defense of this age is in comparing it with previous ones. Yes, we have problems, even global ones, even the threat of annihilation. But in what sense would turning back the clock be an improvement?

Few women of our age would consider the nineteenth century an improvement. In Channing's day, women were confined to a very narrow role in life, with no fundamental rights of citizenship, little opportunity for achievement outside the home, and no encouragement for an education or personal advancement.

The oppression of minorities was, of course, even more blatant. Channing, it must be remembered, was speaking during a time when slavery was accepted as a constitutional right. And though Channing spoke out strongly against this inhumane and tyrannical system, its existence did not seem to temper his optimism significantly.

So the nineteenth century was inhospitable to women and minorities, but that shouldn't prevent me, a white male, from finding happiness there, should it?

Twenty years after Channing gave such a wonderful and optimistic account of the future, the United States found itself immersed in a bloody civil war, certainly unsafe, especially to white males. It was by any measure the most devastating war this country has ever had. In proportion to population, there were four times as many Americans killed in the Civil War than in World War II; ten times as many casualties as in World War I. The nineteenth century was surprisingly far deadlier and more violent for Americans than the twentieth century had been. Europe too, as you know, was also plagued by wars throughout the 1800s.

If I lived in the nineteenth century, it is more likely that I would not have an adequate education, unless my family was wealthy. I would also have little choice of vocation, probably beginning work as a child, and following in the footsteps of whatever my father did. The work would likely be hard, tedious, and not very lucrative.

So if the nineteenth century is not desirable, how about living in the 1700s, the age of those great Founders: Jefferson, Washington, Adams. Of course there was a war then, too‑‑and in fact the Revolutionary War also killed a greater proportion of our population than any twentieth century war. But in addition to that, in living during that time, I would have to accept a life expectancy of less than half of what I do today, and we would also expect only a few of our children to live into adulthood. During that century, it is likely that I would not be literate, that I would forsake the advantages of an education, and my religious freedom, though guaranteed by the constitution later in the century, would be seriously restricted by the states, and most of all by society and culture.

I don't think I need to go back much further to make the point. This age of ours offers us greater opportunity, more freedom, and -- in spite of the shadow of two World Wars and current terrorist threats --is far less bloody than previous ages.

But I'm not too sure that this comparison is all that persuasive. Saying that this age is less deadly -- so far -- does not quite have the same effect as claiming that it is "the best of times."

Channing referred to his age as one "never to be forgotten." It was a privilege, he said, "to have lived in an age so stirring, so pregnant, so eventful." As evidence for this, he points to the creation of a new nation, the American and French Revolutions, and the Constitution, all of which he describes as the "first distinct, solemn assertion of" human rights.

His was, indeed, a memorable age. But so, I suggest, is ours. What will the world remember of our age?

For one thing, I believe our age will be remembered for extending the promise of democracy, and for bringing about a more compassionate role for government. Our age has extended civil rights and civil liberties far beyond the original vision of the authors of the Constitution. And our age has ushered in a compassionate role for government, through such policies as social security and social service agencies. And even though there have been setbacks to these advances in civil rights and compassion, I expect that is temporary. The clock of freedom cannot be turned back permanently.

But there is another, even more dramatic quality to our age. Just as we remember Channing's age representing the birth of democracy, our age, I believe, will be remembered as ushering in the birth of a global vision. In our lifetime, we have begun to recognize the necessity of thinking globally, not just nationally. The problems of our age we now recognize as global problems -- they are not problems facing the nation, they are problems facing our planet. And we increasingly recognize that these problems require global cooperation.

Such a global vision, I believe, is inevitable. Though it has already begun, it will probably not be completed within any of our lifetimes. But it will happen. In fact, it appears that it must happen, if there is to be a future at all, for the only conceivable alternative is a continuation of current irresolvable threats to our existence – whether those threats are environmental, nationalistic, or ideological.

Let's shift gears for a minute, and look at this age from a more distant perspective, if we can. I suspect there is a good explanation for the way in which we approach the problems of our age.

Most historical eras can be readily identified with labels. There was the age of Enlightenment which began in the seventeenth century. That was followed by a scientific age, an age of ideology, the industrial age and a technological age, and so forth. What label do we give to the age we live in?

I am persuaded by those who describe our era as a time of transition. That is, our age has no label. We are, it is argued, in between definable ages. Having left the industrial age behind, we are now exploring a new cultural identity, some have suggested a tentative label as the age of communication, others call it the nuclear age, maybe the global age, but few are certain of any identifiable label. We are, it seems clear, heading in some new direction, but no one knows where. John Nesbitt has described this time between eras as "the time of parentheses." Nesbitt says,

AWe have bracketed off the present from both the past and the future, for we are neither here nor there. We have not quite left behind the America of the past... (nor) have we embraced the future either. We have done the human thing: we are clinging to the known past in fear of the unknown future.@

If Nesbitt is right that we are living in a time of parentheses, it explains a great deal to me. It helps to explain the resurgence of social conservatism that has appeared in the last couple of decades -- a holding on to the past as society is changing at a rapid pace into an unknown future. It helps explain the quality of indifference toward problems, such as the environment or the rising national debt, because we are uncertain about the solutions we want for that unknown future. Nesbitt says "those who are willing to handle the ambiguity of this in‑between period and to anticipate the new era will be a quantum leap ahead of those who hold on to the past."

The current quagmire in Iraq may illustrate this. Past history has encouraged us toward military solutions to intractable international problems, but military solutions aren’t working. Maybe we are learning a lesson of the future: that military solutions won’t necessarily solve political problems..

There is a grave uncertainty permeating our society, and that is to be expected of a time of transition. And along with uncertainty, we experience pessimism and cynicism.

But what is exciting about this time is that it challenges us to shape that future. This time of transition is an invitation for imagination and vision. The future calls us to give it substance, to bring it into being as we would want to have it. Such times of transition offer more opportunity and welcome more participation than any other era.

And precisely because of the many achievements of our society, we can play a significant role in shaping that future. Our recent history has nurtured a democratic society that welcomes our participation. It offers opportunity for developing skills and training with which to define that future. The age of transition is, indeed, an age of vision, demanding courage from us.

In an age of transition, we cannot take life for granted. We are forced to question our basic beliefs and to test our principles.

We may not share Channing's wildly optimistic faith in the inevitable victory of truth and right. There has been too much suffering, too many disappointments for that to be the faith of our age. But we are not empty of hope, nor must we turn our backs in cynical fatalism. Indifference is the Achilles= heel of our age. But to be sure, there is much to be hopeful about.

Channing ended his lecture in a hopeful tone that is also not unrealistic for our own age. I too share his sentiment.

AThe glory of an age is often hidden from itself. Perhaps some word has been spoken in our day which we have not deigned to hear, but which is to grow clearer and louder through all ages. Perhaps some silent thinker among us is at work in his closet whose name is to fill the earth. Perhaps there sleeps in a cradle some reformer who is to move...the world, who is to fire the human soul with new hope and new daring.@

READING

From "The Present Age" by William Ellery Channing

The subject to which I call your attention is the Present Age. . . . An age is needed to expound an age. . . . This age is the result, issue, of all former ages. All are pouring themselves into it. The struggles, passions, discoveries, revolutions of all former time survive in their influences on the present moment.

In looking at our age I am struck immediately with one commanding characteristic, and that is the tendency in all its movements to expansion, to diffusion, to universality. . . .

The grand idea of humanity, of the importance of humans as humans, is spreading silently but surely. Not that the worth of the human being is at all understood as it should be; but the truth is glimmering through the darkness. A faint consciousness of it has seized on the public mind. Even the most abject portions of society are visited by some dream of a better condition for which they were designed. The grand doctrine, that every human being should have the means of self-culture, -- of progress in knowledge and virtue, of health, comfort and happiness, of exercising the powers and affections of a human being – this is slowly taking its place as the highest human truth. That the world was made for all, and not the few; that society is to care for all, that no human being shall perish but through his own fault; that the great end of government is to spread a shield over the rights of all, -- these propositions are growing into axioms, and the spirit of them is coming forth in all departments of life. . . .

In the general tone of this discourse it may be thought that I have proposed to vindicate the present age. I have no such thought. I would improve it, not laud it. I feel its imperfections and corruptions as deeply as any, though I may be most shocked by features that give others little pain. The saddest aspect of the age, to me, is that which undoubtedly contributes to social order. It is the absorption of the multitudes in outward, material interests; it is the selfish prudence which is never tired of the labor of accumulation. . . .

There is (a) dark feature of this age. It is the spirit of collision, contention, discord, which breaks forth in religion, in politics, in business, in private affairs, -- a result and necessary issue of the selfishness which prompts the endless activity of life. The mighty forces which are this moment acting in society are not and cannot be in harmony, for they are not governed by love. They jar; they are discordant. Life now has little music in it. It is not only in the field of battle tht people fight. They fight on the exchange. Business is war, a conflict of skill, management, and, too often, fraud; to snatch the prey from our neighbor is the end of all this stir. Religion is war; Christians, forsaking their one Lord, gather under various standards to gain victory for their sects. Politics is war, breaking the whole people into fierce and unscrupulous parties, which forget their country in conflicts for office and power. The age needs nothing more than peace-makers, people of serene, commanding virtue, to preach in life and word the gospel of (community). To allay the fires of jealousy and hate.

Amidst the prevalence of crime and selfishness, there has sprung up in the human heart a sentiment or principle unknown in earlier ages, an enlarged and trustful philanthropy, which recognizes the right of every human being, which is stirred by the terrible oppressions and corruptions of the world, and which does not shrink from conflict with evil in its worst forms.

There has sprung up too a faith, of which antiquity knew nothing, in the final victory of truth and right, in the elevation of people to a clearer intelligence.... This faith is taking its place among the great springs of human action, is becoming even a passion in more fervent spirits. I hail it as a prophecy which is to fulfill itself. A nature capable of such an aspiration cannot be degraded forever.

I have thus spoken of the present age. In these brief words what a world of thought is comprehended! What infinite movements! What joys and sorrows! What hope and despair! What faith and doubt! What silent grief and loud lament! What fierce conflict and subtle schemes of policy! What private and public revolutions! In the period through which many of us have passed, what thrones have been shaken! What hearts have bled! What millions have been butchered by their fellow-creatures! What hopes of philanthropy have been blighted! And at the same time, what magnificent enterprises have been achieved! What new provinces won to science and art! What rights and liberties secured to nations! It is a privilege to have lived in an age so stirring, so pregnant, so eventful. It is an age never to be forgotten. Its voice of warning and encouragement is never to die.