By Their Groups You Shall Know Them 

The Rev. Ron Sala

Unitarian Universalist Society in Stamford

September 7, 2003 

 

 

Collectively, we seem to be suffering from a mortal disease. Is there a doctor who can give us a powerful treatment that will revive our vital organs and restore our system to health? … With engines of destruction spreading their unimaginable horrors over a large part of the world, and with famine leaving “cleanness of teeth” in millions … how can anyone have the heartless ineptitude to propose a dispassionate consideration of the unities and the universals of religion?

Are these powerful words from today’s New York Times? Are they about our contemporary dis-ease in a world of terror, poverty, and corruption? Not quite. They are, in fact, from a little book published in 1945 called A Religion for Greatness by the Rev. Clarence R. Skinner—widely regarded as the most important Universalist leader of the twentieth century.

As grim a picture as Skinner paints of the world of 1945, much has happened since then. I was struck recently by an interview with Robert Muller,¹ who has served with the United Nations since it’s beginnings in the 1940’s. Muller pointed out that humanity has fought over 200 separate wars since the end of World War II, which have together claimed the lives of about an equal number of millions of people. But it is not just humanity that needs a physician. Muller also revealed that every five hours another species goes extinct on this heavy polluted and rapidly denaturing planet.

To return to Clarence Skinner’s question in 1945, why even bother with something as intangible and potentially irrelevant as religion in the face of such pressing need? Or in Rev. Skinner’s words, “[H]ow can anyone have the heartless ineptitude to propose a dispassionate consideration of the unities and the universals of religion”—at a time like this.

Skinner’s answer is that what we need is not “mere repetition of timeworn formulae.” On the contrary, what we need, he says, is “radical religion,” radical in the sense of the Latin source of our word “radical,” namely radix or “root.” Radical religion helps us experience our fundamental oneness with the universe, with each other, and with that mysterious unity we can feel in our most open and unguarded moments but cannot quite put into words. It is not a “dispassionate consideration” but a way of life that helps us feel the “unities and universals” that connect us as brothers and sisters regardless of nation, race, gender, political or sexual preference, or any other wall of separation.

The noted scholar of the ancient mysteries, Manly P. Hall, offers a tragicomic retelling of the history of religion:

Long before the introduction of idolatry into religion [he writes], the early priests caused the statue of a man to be placed in the sanctuary of the temple. This human figure symbolized the Divine Power in all its intricate manifestations. Thus the priests of antiquity accepted man as their textbook, and through the study of him learned to understand the greater and more abstruse mysteries of the celestial scheme of which they were a part. It’s not improbable that this mysterious figure standing over the primitive altars was made in the nature of a manikin and, like certain emblematic hands in the Mystery schools, was covered with either carved or painted hieroglyphs. The statue may have opened, thus showing the relative positions of the organs, bones, muscles, nerves, and other parts. After ages of research, the manikin became a mass of intricate hieroglyphs and symbolic figures. Every part had its secret meaning. The measurements formed a basic standard by means of which it was possible to measure all parts of cosmos. It was a glorious composite emblem of all the knowledge possessed by the sages and hierophants.

Then came the age of idolatry. The Mysteries decayed from within. The secrets were lost and none knew the identity of the mysterious man who stood over the altar. It was remembered only that the figure was a sacred and glorious symbol of the Universal Power, and it finally came to be looked upon as a god—the One in whose image man was made. Having lost the knowledge of the purpose for which the manikin was originally constructed, the priests worshiped this effigy until at last their lack of spiritual understanding brought the temple down in ruins about their heads and the statue crumbed with the civilization that had forgotten its meaning.

I contend that this sorry state of affairs is still much the case today. There is a cynical joke that defines interfaith dialogue as “Jews who don’t understand Judaism talking with Christians who don’t understand Christianity and discovering how much they have in common.” This situation is compounded by the fact that true religious understanding involves both heart and mind. So many today are caught between fundamentalist faiths that offer ecstatic, emotional experience while restricting reason and staid establishment faiths offering rationality while restricting passion.

It’s often those with the least understanding of their own faiths that are so outraged at others’. Those least secure in their own traditions are always in the first ranks of bigotry. They see religion not as a way toward greater sympathy and connection with all humankind, but merely as “this group’s mine and that group’s your and never the twain shall meet!”

On the other hand, it’s a long-noted truism that the most advanced and thoughtful persons, on whatever path, have much in common. Indeed, the most perceptive people have observed the striking similarities between the great majority of religions, spiritualities, and great philosophies.

You can see important similarities in the symbols of the religions you see around you now.

The immediate root of our faith tradition is the Christian path, represented here by the Cross. The Cross is by no means merely a Christian symbol, however. It has long stood for the earth and its four directions and hence is a symbol of space. The Cross also has meaning relating to time, whereby the path of our horizontal, earthly, time-bound, existence is always intersected by the vertical dimension of eternity, that is, the timeless now. One of the Cross’s most profound meanings is that by being consciously present in the here and now the moment opens up in beauty and possibility. The Cross is also emblematic of the human being who can be clearly seen as represented by a head, two arms, and the legs together. The beams intersect at the place of the heart. The Cross, then, is a symbol of human transformation and the changing of suffering into joy. It’s a symbol of self-giving love that will not withhold even life itself for the benefit of others.

Christianity owes its very existence to the Jewish faith that preceded it and continues on with its own unique and developing Light. Judaism is most commonly represented today by the so-called Star of David, which is also known as a Seal of Solomon. Just like the Cross, the symbol of the Six Pointed Star is not exclusive to the religion with which it’s most often associated. For instance, it’s also become a symbol of the contemporary Pan-African Rastafarian religion. The Six Pointed Star been a magical symbol since antiquity, symbolizing, among other things, the unity of the microcosm of the human realm and the macrocosm of the greater universe. In more recent times, through its association with the stars Jews were forced to wear by the Nazi overlords, it’s taken on meanings of martyrdom and heroism among oppressed people. Though it might not appear obvious at first, Solomon’s Seal is related to the human body just as the Cross is. Jewish Kabalistic tradition represents the basic forces of the universe—both at the psychological and cosmic levels—on a diagram corresponding to the parts of the body they call the Tree of Life. In the middle of the Tree is a Six Pointed Star whose center is Tiphareth, emblematic of beauty and the sun and corresponding to the solar plexus, just beneath the heart. Heaven and earth meet in the heart.

There is also a star in the Star and Crescent symbol that’s come to represent Islam. There are different stories as to how this symbol came to be. One is that it depicts a conjunction of the Moon and Venus that occurred on July 23, 610, the first night that Mohammed was inspired with the words of the Koran. Here again, we have a symbol of human life touching the universal life and eternal values being again set forth in time.

In the Taoist symbol of the Yin and Yang, we likewise have a reminder of the seemingly disparate coming together as one. All dualities are part of a greater whole—earth and sky, masculine and feminine, light and dark, hot and cold. They come together not least of all in each of us, who are wholes made of parts.

Our Hindu symbol is the sacred syllable, Om, said to be the very sound of the creation of the universe, the deep harmony that unites all. It also has its intimate relation with the human body. Om has for thousands of years been chanted by Hindus and others as a form of meditation that reverberates through the body and mind.

The Buddhist Wheel of the Eightfold Path is to remind the one aspiring to buddhahood, or awakening, to live a life of balance and compassion.

Unitarian Universalist minister John Wolf was once asked whether he was a Humanist or a Theist. He replied, “That depends on you. If you’re a Humanist, I’m a Theist; if you’re a Theist, I’m a Humanist.” I think Wolf’s attitude can be usefully applied to the current dichotomy in our denomination between those favoring a more “Humanist” approach and those favoring a more “spiritual” approach.

To which side do these symbols belong? Well, to both. They are all the highly compressed records of human learning and experience across the centuries. Every one carries within it memories, visions, and possibilities. They all represent various vehicles, by no means an exhaustive list, by which human beings have sought harmony among themselves and with the greater realities of our universe.

Our own symbol, the Flaming Chalice, also has a varied and romantic history. First used as a symbol of the Unitarian Service Committee in their work with World War II refugees, it carries the lasting memory of people reaching out to others in love. It has been compared to the flaming lamps the Pagan Greeks and Romans placed on their altars, yet also contains a hint of the communion cup and Cross of the Christianity from which we were born. I sometimes like to imagine the flaming chalice as the human form, arms stretched out in wonder and acceptance, the flames of inspiration and compassion shooting up from the heart and setting the mind on fire!

The human heart, after all, is more than a quaint metaphor, more than a biological pump. By meditation on the heart, we can lower our blood pressure, reduce our stress. We can calm ourselves and learn to experience anew the wonder of each moment. We can learn to act from the heart and embrace the world in love. Perhaps I should say relearn these things, since small children have not yet lost their openness to life.

To meditate on the heart, simply focus your attention there. You might imagine a flower growing there or picture the rising sun.² Feel yourself relax. By simply meditating on the heart for only part of a minute, we can center ourselves and find unity within. We also open to the realization of the universal truth that every heart longs for the same things our hearts long for—love and freedom—and that these are ours without cost and without limit. These are the unities and universals Clarence Skinner spoke about half a century ago. They are the same things the world needs now, always has needed.

The United Nations has counted 5,000 religions around the world, but really there’s just one: the path toward greater love and freedom. So many creeds, so many structures of ecclesiastical governance, so many schisms, and so much selfish, fearful violence has marred this simple fact. All men and women are brothers and sisters. The greatest among us have always testified that and happy are they who believe it and live it.

We are the cells of one universal body. “By their groups you shall know them.” We voluntarily join together here to build up the health of that body and by so doing vivify ourselves.

So, is it the human or the divine we are here for? How can there be one without the other? We have been taught to think the saints, angels, and gods are “out there” somewhere. Maybe they are. But if we do not realize that they are here [head] and here [heart] they will do us no good at all.

I will close with an image from a favorite movie of mine from a few years back, Michael. John Travolta plays the archangel Gabriel. Far from being a stereotyped, cutout-type angel that one might expect, Travolta’s Michael definitely has his earthly side. That’s soon discovered by the reporters sent from a tabloid newspaper to check out reports of sightings of some freak with wings. Despite the wings, Michael looks not-too-angelic when we encounter him early on, his hairy belly and boxer shorts, and all. Nevertheless, Michael shows us he can savor life, the smells of earth, human companionship, the joys of dancing in a local bar, sex. He feels deeply, and helps those around him to experience life in new ways.

It’s time to break out of our shells of comfort, conformity, and convention. Time to take up risk and newness and the shameless outpouring of love. This new century demands a fundamental change in humanity if we are to survive. We need no more empty religion, no more greed, no more hate. We need to transform our very natures into vessels of love and freedom to a greater degree and on a wider scale than ever before. This troubled planet will make it to the twenty-second century. Whether human beings will be here too, or what type of life they will have is up to us.

¹ New Dimensions Broadcasting Network (http://www.newdimensions.org/), accessed 9/5/03.

² “Yoga, Meditation, and Jana Sadhana” by Swami Krishnananda (http://216.239.39.104/search?q=cache:fUlrofqjWGAJ:www.swami-krishnananda.org/ymj/ymj.pdf+%22meditation+on+the+heart%22+medicine&hl=en&ie=UTF-8)