What Rough Beast? Rev. Edmund Robinson Unitarian Universalist Church of Wakefield December 19, 1999 The title of this week's talk - it won't really be a sermon because we have to get downstairs for the pageant in a few minutes - is taken from last week's reading, "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats: And what rough beast, its hour come round at last/ Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born? But maybe before we can deal with the Second Coming, we have to deal with the first. Put another way, who or what is this creature whose birth we celebrate this week? It seems that as we reach the windup of the second millennium, we don't know what to make of Jesus anymore than his contemporaries did. I think it's particularly hard for religious liberals to make up our minds about him, and among that group, its particularly hard for those of us who grew up in an orthodox Christian faith, as I did, and as many of you did. We're come-outers, and when we came out, we identified the shell that we had come out of as Christianity, and Jesus was therefore part of all that which is behind us. Over the years in a thousand ways we have affirmed our decision to leave our childhood religion, and thus we have created barriers and bulwarks and redoubts against any expected re-invasion from the Jesus quarter. This came home to me this past week when I attended a monthly meeting of the Wakefield Clergy Association. It happened that our overtly non-Christian member, Rabbi Rosansky, was not present at the meeting, and whether by coincidence or not, several topics came up in which the others in attendance kind of assumed an attitude of "we Christians." The subject turned to the planning of an annual event in January called "Christian Unity Day," at which it apparently has been the custom to do a sort of round-robin pulpit exchange, with each minister going to some neighboring church to preach. The others had discussed this for about five minutes and finally one of them realized that I wasn't saying anything, and asked me directly, "well, your people, do you think they'd be interested in this sort of thing?" I gulped; I had made up my mind that we probably wouldn't, but what I heard myself saying was, "well, by your lights most of the people in my congregation wouldn't count as Christians and I wouldn't either." The minister who had asked me said, "well, in that case I don't think we would want you in my pulpit." I felt badly and felt a bit snubbed, but realized that I had set myself up for it; indeed, I had virtually invited it. In my anxiety over the "Christianization" of the group in the absence of our Jewish member, I think I had felt it necessary at that moment to put myself on the outside in solidarity with her. Yet I think I gave away the store. What I gave away, in fact, was Jesus. For the orthodox don't own Jesus; we own Jesus as much as anyone else does. Our Unitarian forebears such as Channing fought hard to retain acceptance as followers of Jesus even as they rejected much of the doctrinal overlay that the Protestant and Catholic Churches had imposed on Jesus' message, such as the doctrine of the Trinity, the virgin birth, etc. What I'd like to do this morning in the brief time we have is to suggest three approaches to the question of Jesus. Believing, as I've said before, that the foundation of our religion is the proposition that some questions are too important to have only one right answer, I'm not going to try to say which of these approaches is the right one. Obviously I can in this short time merely scratch the surface of such a profound and complex question as how we relate to Jesus. But I offer all three to you, in the hopes that one or more might be helpful to you in sorting out how you feel about this most enigmatic figure of our collective history, to answer for yourself the question Jesus asks his disciples in Luke 9:20, "Who do you say I am?" The first Jesus is the personal guide and friend. Millions of Americans and people around the world relate first to Jesus as the closest person to them in their lives. I saw a bumper sticker in Harvard Square this week that said, "Jesus loves you; everyone else thinks you're a jerk." Many would call this Jesus their Savior, but I think that the most important thing we can get out of such a personal Jesus is not salvation but forgiveness. For people who grew up in households where they were always being judged harshly, for any of us at times when we have trouble forgiving ourselves, when we are struggling under a burden of guilt and humiliation and despair, a personal Jesus can be the balm in Gilead, a healing uplifting presence in our lives. To many of you, this Jesus belongs to the realm of the tooth fairy or the imaginary friends you had as a kid. The fact that you don't believe in the literal existence of this Jesus prevents you from realizing his benefits. You need to have things logical in your life, and you can't pray to, can't call on a being whom you don't believe to exist. Well, I am this way myself, but I'm gradually beginning to suspect that my mind is getting in the way of what my heart needs. The second Jesus is more acceptable to my mind, which is the Jesus of modern Biblical scholarship. When the scholars try to strip away the layers of ideology imposed by the special pleaders in the nascent Christian movement towards the end of the first century, the picture of Jesus that emerges is of the leader of a ragtag band of activists operating around the northern edge of the Sea of Galilee. They were basically wandering mendicants; they would go from house to house without carrying any money or food, would seek to be invited in, whereupon they would proclaim the Kingdom of God. They brought this message ot Jews, but they also brought it to non-Jews. Out of this picture of the way Jesus actually lived and worked, liberation theology constructs a whole ethic which espouses a radical preference for the poor and oppressed, an anti-establishment bias which is congruent with political liberalism. This Jesus challenges us in our middle-class comforts not to flag in our efforts at social justice so long as there is inequality and oppression in the world. A third concept of Jesus is found in the peculiar merging of Universalism and process theology of Albert Ziegler. Let me read you two paragraphs fom the conclusion of his Foundations of Faith. "Man [sic] was not created perfect to fall in sin. He was and is created innocent, and by the spirit of God in him moves toward virtue. Salvation is not restoration to a former state, but a steady growth toward wholeness. It is not a static condition; it is a process of growth, of improvement. Man is not evil, in the sense that he enjoys the fruits of wrongdoing; nor is he helpless to do right. His only desire is to do good, but he must do it as he sees it to be. He sins, i.e. does wrong, does less than the best, because he himself is incomplete. He is in the process of being created by the divine spirit in him. He never was perfect, but is being perfected, as a species, as individuals in the species. In this system, the theological concept, Christ, takes on a different and, for us, more persuasive character. Christ is not something that happened to one man, or was true of only one man; it is the divine good in and for every person. It is the divien image in which God is making every person. The creative Word is being spoken by God throughout all the history of man. When the Word has been spoken it will be Christ. Christliness was seen in Jesus, as it was seen in Moses, Gautama, Mohammed, Gandhi and others. It is seen in every person in some degree, because people do not differ n their basic naturebut only in the degree to which that nature has matured. There is a Christliness that beckons on each of us, and a seed in each of us. Christ is not that which has been, but that which will be in every life; it is each of us perfected; no less ourselves but more clearly ourselves for the perfecting. This then, is my Christmas present to you. As you come here on Christmas Eve to sing the old carols and hear the old stories, may you find a way to take some facet of Jesus into your heart and genuinely express appreciation for the life that came into being two millenia ago and in some sense continues among us today. Amen.