“MORE THAN JUST WORDS:  THE RIGHT OF CONSCIENCE”

 

A sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear

Sunday, November 4, 2007

All Souls Unitarian Church

Indianapolis, Indiana

 

            If I were to ask the average UU to identify what it is that makes our religious tradition distinct from other traditions – how are we different from others? – I expect the answer would in some way refer to our rejection of creed and dogma, our affirmation of freedom in religion, and our embrace of tolerance and reason in religion. 

            Those are accurate descriptions, but it seems to me that what is distinctive about our tradition has less to do with what we believe and a whole lot more to do with how we believe.  If you try to nail down the precise beliefs of Unitarian Universalists, you will quickly find you are trying to pin down a moving target or nail jello to the wall.  But the question of how we come to our individual beliefs is easier to describe, and I think a lot more profound and revealing.  The deeper question is what authority people invoke for believing as they do.  And how is that authority for belief different among UUs than from others? 

 

            In traditional Christianity, almost unanimously, the “authority” for what to believe is the Bible.  That is sufficient.  (This is also true for Judaism and Islam, concerning their respective bibles.)  While it is true that the different sects read the Bible differently, they all profess their allegiance to the Bible as the ultimate authority.  If the Bible seems ambiguous on some question, then authority comes from church institutions or from the writings of the founders. 

            Our answer is different.  By what authority do we arrive at our beliefs?  The answer isn’t difficult.  Our beliefs rely on the authority of our own reason and conscience.  We actively seek out things to influence our beliefs – the Bible and religious traditions can be a useful source, as can science or literature or poetry or music or anything that inspires – but in the final accounting, belief is a function of our individual conscience.  That we don’t always agree among ourselves on matters of religious belief, then, is understandable.   Each of us experiences our conscience somewhat differently.  But we hold in common an absolute reverence for the right of conscience, and it is out of that conviction that we arrive at principles such as religious freedom and tolerance. 

            Ralph Waldo Emerson, who began his career as a Unitarian minister, said it about as bluntly as it can be said: 

 

“Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.”

 

            Nothing!  Not bibles or rituals or traditions or prophets or even sages like himself.  The human conscience, the integrity of your mind, is ultimately what we should accept as sacred.  One consequence of this view, by the way, is that we claim full responsibility for our beliefs – we cannot make a bible or the church the source of our convictions. 

 

            This principle goes far back in our history.  Jonathan Mayhew was one of the leading colonial ministers during the early 1700s that paved the way for Unitarians some years later.  As the churches in the American colonies were debating about which creeds to follow, Mayhew condemned all creeds as doing injury to religious liberty and human reason.  “Creeds,” he said, “are imperious and tyrannical. . .  They are an infringement on those rights of conscience, which ought to be sacred.” 

            The phrase used at that time for the religious liberty was the “right of private judgment,” the right to think for yourself.  Churches were adopting creeds out of concern that allowing people to decide for themselves is encouraging religious infidelity.  Mayhew thought differently.  “No one,” Mayhew said, “has a right to deprive another of (their right to private judgment) under a notion that he will make ill use of it, and fall into erroneous opinion.  We may as well pick our neighbor’s pocket, for fear he should spend his money in debauchery, as take from him his right of judging for himself and chusing (sic) his religion, for fear he should judge amiss and abuse his liberty.” 

            This principle of the right of conscience permeates both our history and our institutions.   The by-laws of the Unitarian Universalist Association contain this statement: 

 

“Nothing herein shall be deemed to infringe upon individual freedom of belief which is inherent in the Universalist and Unitarian heritages or to conflict with any statement of purpose, covenant, or bond of union used by any congregation, unless such is used as a creedal test.”  

 

            Most of our individual churches contain a similar statement in their by-laws prohibiting a creedal test for membership.  UU ministers receive their credentials through a group called the “Fellowship Committee.”   That group may reject a candidate for our ministry based on any number of things – perhaps they haven’t had adequate academic or practical training, or perhaps they have personal problems that need addressing first – but the Committee is expressly prohibited from rejecting a candidate based on a creedal test, on the nature of their theological belief. 

            We are, therefore, not just non-creedal, we are anti-creedal.  And we reach this principle from our acceptance of the rights of conscience.   And not only do we have no creedal test for joining, we have no system of excommunication of membership based on belief. 

 

            It is no coincidence that given this principle, our churches are organized under what is called “congregational polity” or even “radical congregationalism.”  Our system of church governance, known as “polity,” is democratic in nature.  It is an unusual system to be sure.  Ministers are chosen by congregational vote, not appointed by denominational officers.  Leaders are elected by the congregation, not by church hierarchy.  The governing Board answers to the congregation, which has authority to overturn any decision of the leadership.  But as the UUA Commission on the Free Church noted in its 1963 report, “Congregational polity. . . is the conscious application within a human institution of belief in the free spirit.” 

 

            Radical congregational polity extends to the larger Association of Unitarian Universalist churches as well.  The Unitarian Universalist Association (our denominational organization known as the “UUA”) has no formal authority over the churches, which are considered independent and autonomous.  The UUA exists only to assist congregations, and it is the congregations that elect the UUA leadership. 

            Our church organization is a direct product of our principles of respecting the rights of the individual.  Just as within our churches each individual is recognized as independent and autonomous, within our denomination each church runs itself.  In both cases, the individual and the church are honored through a democratic system.  Or as a former UUA President Frederick May Eliot said it, “The basic principle of our associated religious life. . . is the right of each individual and each (local) church to hold and affirm whatever opinions and beliefs commend themselves as true and important.” 

Put differently, this democratic congregational system expresses not so much what we believe but how we believe – through honoring the rights of individual conscience.    

            This is why in the Statement of Principles of the UUA, these two ideas, rights of conscience and democratic process, are linked.  The principle I refer to says it this way: 

 

“We covenant to affirm and promote. . . the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large.” 

 

            Having talked so far about the “rights of conscience,” I expect most people in this room have little or know problem with it.  And yet I also think this is one of those topics where the words are easier to say than the principle is to live.  There is a line from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice that expresses well those values that are easier said than practiced: 

 

“I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow my own teachings.” 

 

            The fact is that in practice the honoring of the rights of conscience sometimes has its own challenges.  One such challenge is the question, “Can anyone be a member regardless of their beliefs, and even if their beliefs are repugnant to most of us?”  Does the absence of a creedal test and the affirmation of the rights of conscience open the door of membership to anyone who wants to come in? 

            Can an avowed racist be a Unitarian?  Our answer would be “no,” with some qualification.  Racism violates what we affirm when we affirm the “right of conscience” of every individual, for it denies dignity to all people.  Someone who denies the inherent worth of each person has already excluded themselves from the Unitarian communion.  But can a racist join a Unitarian church?  In theory, yes.  But for a racist to feel at home in this community would mean we have failed at expressing our principles. 

            Can a fundamentalist who believes in a literal reading of scripture join our church.  In theory, yes.  But until they are comfortable with a free religious inquiry, with respecting the right of conscience of those who disagree, and with affirming diversity of opinion, they would not be in fact a Unitarian Universalist, though they could be permitted to join a UU church.  I am certain that such a fundamentalist would not be comfortable with our freedom, and even find it personally threatening.  Over the years I’ve had a few such visitors walk out in the middle of my sermons. 

 

            But there is a tougher challenge presented by this affirmation of the “right of conscience.”  It has to do with the church’s public actions in matters of social justice, for example. 

            Our religious values often encourage us to become involved in public issues of social justice.  It makes me proud of this church to see our members actively working for important causes in society.  Even controversial causes.  Our churches are places that should reinforce and encourage our commitment to a better world, and it would be irresponsible not to do so.  If offers that encouragement through discussion groups, such as the Sunday forum, and through occasional Sunday sermons on controversial topics, and through a network of people who share similar values. 

            There is no question that a church which explicitly honors the right of conscience of each person would support them in the effort to live out their convictions.  But to what extent can the church institutionally take a stand on controversial issues without infringing on the rights of conscience of those members who may disagree? 

            This is one of the perennial dilemmas of our churches.  Our religion is grounded in solid values, and often those values are translated into public action.  Unitarian Universalists have earned a reputation as being on the frontlines of many causes.  During the civil rights movement In the South, our churches became sanctuaries of support for civil rights workers.  When Dr. Martin Luther King made a public invitation for clergy support in Selma, Alabama, and dozens of UU ministers went there, and the Board of Trustees of the Unitarian Universalist Association moved their meetings from Boston to Selma.  One UU minister, James Reeb, was murdered by racists. 

            Unitarian Universalists are visible in a variety of social action causes.  During the Central American wars in the 1980s, the UU Service Committee sponsored a number of peace groups there – and many churches provided sanctuary to refugees.  We were among the first denominations to affirm the ordination of gay and lesbian ministers, and when the Massachusetts Supreme Court legalized gay marriage, the first such wedding took place in a UU church, officiated by the President of the UUA. 

            The list goes on and on.  People who have heard of our religious tradition are likely to associate us with advocacy of social justice issues than almost anything else. 

 

            But it is, as the saying goes – a saying that has always puzzled me – a “sticky wicket.”  When can the church as an institution declare its support of a controversial issue without stepping on the rights of conscience of those members who disagree?  Can the church as an institution speak to any issues on behalf of its individual members?  Our tradition of respect for the “rights of conscience” would seem to say that the church has no place in taking a public stand in the name of its membership. 

            One may say that it is all right for the church to act on such issues within the rules of democratic process.  If the majority say support something, that’s all it should take for the church to take a stand. 

            But majority rule is always in tension with minority rights.  The democratic process does not guarantee respect for the rights of conscience of individuals. 

            Let me offer a specific example.  Let us say there is a broad consensus within this church membership on some controversial subject – whether it is amnesty for illegal aliens, funding for embryonic stem cell research, or international Free Trade alliances.  Let us say, just hypothetically, that 55% of our church members approve of some program of amnesty for illegal aliens, and 45% oppose it.  Then say that we are approached to put our church’s name on a petition, or have our church contribute to or join a movement, to support amnesty.  Would such action infringe on the right of conscience of the minority within the church that disagrees?  Would it be an offense to the principle of “right of conscience” to suppose that the church’s actions represent the view of All Souls and its members?  It would appear to do so, I think.  I further think that almost everyone in that minority would feel not only alienated from the church at large, but feel that the church’s principle of “rights of conscience” has been violated. 

            Now suppose the difference in support for amnesty for illegal aliens is 95% for and 5% against.  Would the difference in numbers change the nature of the principle involved?  If so, what numerical ratio of support would justify a change in principle? 

            The fact is that on matters of social and political policy, it is not difficult to find a majority, if not a consensus, among Unitarian Universalists.  That being the case it is easy, far too easy, for some of us to slip into a mind-set that “everybody agrees with me.”  The presumption that “everybody agrees with me” becomes a not-too-subtle threat to the “rights of conscience” principle we proclaim, and mutes the voices of those who disagree.  It is not unusual to hear it said that although Unitarian Universalists do not allow creedal tests in religion, they have no rule against political and social creeds. 

            This dilemma is real, and one of the reasons that I raise it today is because it is something we need to face directly from time to time.  A couple of months ago, it became the subject of a Board discussion when the Board was asked to lend our name and make a contribution to a good cause that was not necessarily something all members would support.  Though it was recognized as a good cause, the Board declined to do so based on the principle of “rights of conscience.” 

            All Unitarian Universalist churches have to face this question from time to time and decide between the two worthy but conflicting choices:  to lend institutional support to a cause that most members would affirm, or to withhold institutional support on the principle of “rights of conscience.”  It is a long-standing dilemma in our history.  A 1936 self-study by the American Unitarian Association concluded that “the theory of tolerance (in our churches) faces its most acute test in the field of social (action).”  When the Unitarians and Universalists merged in 1961, there was the most thorough self-study ever made by our movement.  In its report, entitled “The Free Church in a Changing World,” it included among its conclusions this comment, which was part of our earlier reading: 

 

“Certain characteristic problems confront the churches of congregational (polity).  Among them (is) . . . the tendency of the attitudes of the group to evolve into a kind of unexpressed social or theological orthodoxy, discouraging the expression of those independent insights which the group exists to foster. . .  (This can be called) the tyranny of the group mind. . . .  Our only safeguard is. . . to encourage and honor within our churches the expression of widely divergent views on economics, politics, and religion.”

 

Over many years, when All Souls has been faced with this ethical dilemma, it has almost always chosen to err on the side of “rights of conscience.”  I am in agreement with that stand, and with this sermon, I encourage broader discussion. 

            It seems to me that the “rights of conscience” principle should, under most circumstances, be the trump card in these questions for reasons I’ve given earlier.  Like all ethical dilemmas, though, there are no easy answers – otherwise it wouldn’t be a “dilemma.”  So my support for the primacy of “rights of conscience” over institutional social action is surrounded by a number of provisos, which I will now mention. 

            My first proviso is that while free churches should protect freedom by generally refraining from institutional stands, it should be actively involved in conversation about controversial issues.  It should welcome public forums, it should encourage interest groups, it should educate. 

            Second, the principle of “freedom of the pulpit” is no threat to “rights of conscience.”  In our tradition, the minister is encouraged to address important social issues, giving a personal perspective.  Individual members may agree or disagree, but the notion of a free pulpit is sacrosanct.  A corollary to this proviso is that the minister may be active in any public policy action, however controversial, but he or she is acting only his or her own name, and not on behalf of, or as representative of, the church. 

            Third, the principle of “rights of conscience” works best when there is opportunity for members to support groups which can take action.  For many years, this has been the work of a group called the Unitarian Universalist “Fellowship for Social Justice” (or FSJ).  The concept was to have UUs from the different churches around the city who share similar concerns to have a group that can take action, sign petitions, and offer financial support to groups that may be controversial.  Such support would be in the name of the “Fellowship for Social Justice,” not in the name of all Unitarian Universalists.  In recent years FSJ has been struggling to find enough support to be a strong voice.  It is my hope that it can become more vibrant and active.  If you are interested, please contact me or our office. 

            In addition to the Fellowship for Social Justice, there exists on the national level the “Unitarian Universalist Service Committee” (or “UUSC”).  This group becomes involved in issues around the world and offers support in poor countries to the native populations.  It is not a missionary group, since it has no interest in proselytizing people, but seeks only to help.   Issues such as health and women’s rights are often the focus.  UU Service Committee is entirely independent of the Unitarian Universalist Association, so its activities are done on behalf of its membership, not in the name of Unitarian Universalists in general.  The Service Committee has chapters within congregations themselves, and here again I would hope some from All Souls would be willing to become leaders of UUSC within our church. 

            A fourth proviso is that just as I don’t believe in absolutes in principle, I don’t believe in absolutes in this principle of “rights of conscience.”  I can’t help but feel that there are times when the issue is too great not to act.  It is one of the shameful pages of history, for example, that the churches in Germany did not raise their voices in objection to the treatment of their Jewish neighbors.  Such a situation should never happen again.  Such situations are rare, and anytime the “rights of conscience” principle is compromised, it should be on such major concern.  I think there are times, few in number, when the circumstances can trump the “rights of conscience” principle. 

            One example.  In my previous church in Pacific Northwest, the state of Oregon had a ballot measure amending their constitution to deny civil rights for homosexuals and declare them to be “unnatural and perverse.”  In my judgment at the time, as it would be now, such action is so close to what happened to the Jews in Germany, no church is justified in being silent.  I would propose, as I did then, a thorough process of education, discussion, and debate on the issue before a vote is made, and even then, that the vote require a super-majority, such as 90% or more.  The principle of “rights of conscience” is that precious, but the principle of human dignity – which is the subject of next week’s sermon – is about the only thing that could trump it. 

 

But this isn’t a card game and for one principle to “trump” another is always ambiguous and subjective.  These are dilemmas wrapped in uncertainties surrounded by in ethical puzzles.  It is a simple phrase, “rights of conscience,” that on the surface offers simple understanding, but like almost all principles worth defending, it takes serious thought and deep courage to defend.  What can guide us is the insight mentioned earlier, given by Ralph Waldo Emerson: 

 

“Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.”

 


 

READING:  Excerpts from

“The Free Church in a Changing World” 1963

Report of a Special Commission of the Unitarian Universalist Association

 

            “For us the individual is central. . . .  All authority is rooted (in the individual). . . .  As a result of the freedom which is ours, our members reach many different conclusions on theological and other questions.  But these differences do not divide us.  They vitalize us.  Our ideal is that each shall be given full opportunity to express his (or her) views; that none shall submit to the dominance of those whose views are different; but also that none shall go (their) schismatic way alone.  We do not merely tolerate differing opinions, we encourage them and look upon them as the most likely source of new and better understanding.  With us the heretic is the one who insists upon having his (or her) own way, who says, “Play my way or I won’t play at all.”  The real opposite of liberalism is not a traditional set of theological opinions but the dogmatic insistence that a particular set of opinions is right. . . . .

            “Democracy has been described as a process in which people are locked together in dialogue, where dialogue means a conversation in which each person really expects to learn from the other.  The free church is an institution in which this creative interchange centers in religion.  It rests upon the conviction that, since (people) are finite and cannot know ultimate truth, (our) best hope for arriving at what is true about ourselves lies in the full and free exchange of insights. 

            “Certain characteristic problems confront churches of the congregational way.   Among them (is). . . the tendency of the attitudes of the group to evolve into a kind of unexpressed social or theological orthodoxy, discouraging the expression of those independent insights which the group exists to foster. . .  (This can be called) the tyranny of the group mind.  It is true hat such tyranny is also to be found in the more doctrinal and authoritarian churches, but the problem is accentuated with us because we are not usually aware of it.  Our churches, like all others, have their orthodoxies too – social, economic, and political, as well as theological – and often they are the more stringent because unacknowledged or unnoticed. 

            “Our only safeguard is. . . to encourage and honor within our churches the expression of widely divergent views on economics, politics, and religion.” 

            “The great conversation can best occur in a congregation in which there  is a diversity not only of opinion but of life-experiences as well.  A congregation fortunate enough to have many social classes represented in its membership is a richer congregation than one that does not. 
MEDITATION

 

Let us join in the spirit of meditation and reflection:

 

Let us be thankful for a world so vast in its diversity, and yet still holding a universal thread of common human experience.

Let us cherish the great questions of life, and hold our answers as both true and tentative.

Let us seek truth, but never be complacent with our discoveries.

Let us find a healthy faith of conviction, and yet slay the false god of presumed certainty. 

Let us not fear to be open.  Let us now cower before doubt.  But let us refresh ourselves in the renewing enterprise of shaping our world as it shapes us.