“To Endure and Prevail”
(Sermon Series on, Ten Eternal Questions
What is Your Moral Code in Relation to Right and Wrong?)
for the Unitarian Universalist Church of
Winchendon, Massachusetts
December 17, 2006
the Rev. Jennie Ann Barrington
Sermon:
The children’s story this morning asked children to answer the question, “If you were to write an ‘Eleventh Commandment,’ what would it be?” The book’s answers range from, “Do not be mean to or stare at people with disabilities” to “no bombing just for the heck of it.” And I am reminded of the phrase that was prevalent when I was a child, “War is unhealthy for children and other living things.” The children among us are already beginning to develop a moral code from which to discern right from wrong. They are developing their own moral code from what we adults say and do; from the myriad of cultural influences around them; from teachings and experiences they are receiving that are explicitly religious; and from their own inner voice, the voice of conscience they were each born with. You each have your own moral code as well, developed over the course of your life, and it’s complicated. The children’s story separates out five aspects to the question of living a moral life: living with other people, living with the earth, living with family, living with ourselves, and living with God. We have all experienced both the sense of harmony when we’ve acted ethically in any of these five ways of living, and the sense of conflict that results from acting unethically. Nobel Prize winning novelist William Faulkner calls this conundrum, “the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself.” Our moral code must include the elements of honor, pity, compassion, sacrifice, courage, and hope, he writes, if the human race is to, not merely endure, but prevail.
And the question of a worthy moral code is complicated because there are degrees of everything. There is a difference between civility, general ethical conduct, and immorality; so it’s worth looking at all three. In the book, Ten Eternal Questions – Wisdom, Insight, and Reflection for Life’s Journey, renowned people who have explored the spiritual aspects of life (through the arts, journalism, politics, or altruism) are asked, “What is your moral code in relation to right and wrong?” Many of them cite the Golden Rule, either as, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” or as “Don’t do to your neighbor what you do not want him to do to yourself.” And, indeed, many questions of ethics come down to the fact that a person or group should not assert its values on others so aggressively as to be violating to others’ liberties, persons, property, or very lives. And many of the people quoted in this book said the standard answers, “Don’t cheat; don’t steal; don’t lie; don’t harm living creatures.” A good start; but many of those interviewed didn’t go far enough with their reflections. The period of over five years that I have served as minister of this church has included the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001; the scandal of clergy abuse in the Catholic Church being made public by the journalists at The Boston Globe; and the torture at Abu Ghraib. I cannot ignore the fact that questions of moral codes span a broad spectrum.
At the lighter end of that spectrum are matters of incivility. And don’t we still like to believe that George Washington said, “I cannot tell a lie; I chopped down that cherry tree”-? Mr. Washington himself, when he was fourteen years old, copied, by hand, some 110 “Rules of Civility in Conversation Amongst Men” from a 1664 English translation of an even older French work. A few of those rules are:
“In the presence of others, sing not to yourself with a humming voice, nor drum with your fingers or feet… Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though he were your enemy… In visiting the sick, do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein… When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it… Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth nor at the table; speak not of melancholy things, as death and wounds; and if others mention them, change, if you can, the discourse. Tell not your dreams but to your intimate friends… Go not thither where you know not whether you shall be welcome or not. Give not advice without being asked; and when desired, do it briefly... Treat with people at fit times about business, and whisper not in the company of others… Undertake not what you cannot perform; but be careful to keep your promise… Be not tedious in discourse, make not many digressions, nor repeat often the same matter of discourse… When you speak of God or his attributes, let it be seriously, in reverence and honor… and labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience.” [see, The Book of Virtues, pp. 74-78]
My conscience recently told me not to avail myself of a tempting opportunity-- I heard the voice of conscience speak from within me quite clearly. Believe it or not, I am already looking for a professional development opportunity to do for a week this summer. It will be tricky to find something enriching that will fit in during a week when I am not officiating a wedding. The other day I stumbled onto one that sounds wonderful, at the Chautauqua Institution, the site of great higher learning and cultural enrichment each summer in Chautauqua, New York. The description stated that, if accepted, all expenses (except transportation) would be paid for a clergy and their guest for one week of eating, sharing fellowship, and discussing issues and shared experience relevant to ministry. We’d also get to avail ourselves of the lectures and arts programs going on at Chautauqua that week in June. But the catch --Isn’t there always a catch?-- is that this fellowship is open to clergy who have served fewer than seven years in the ministry. “Oh (I thought to myself), then I’d have to lie.” I began serving as a parish minister in March of 2000. That was up in Pittsfield, Maine. I still remember the day the Moderator of that church, Priscilla Jones, handed me a set of keys in the church office, then respectfully walked outside, closing the big wooden door quietly after her. I walked into the sanctuary and stood in awe of that historic Universalist house of worship, with its stained glass windows and exquisite murals depicting humanity’s quest for beauty, truth, and light. Then I found the membership book, and began reading the names… I couldn’t quite believe that congregation had chosen me to be the next spiritual leader in their noble history. Though I was not ordained until May of 2004, that day in March of 2000 was the start of my service as an official parish minister. I called a colleague on the phone and told her about the clergy renewal week at Chautauqua, to see if she could take advantage of it, since I couldn’t. She said, “You could write down the date of your ordination instead.” She said she’d probably do that if she really wanted to go. But, when you really look at an ethical dilemma like this, you can see that, once you lie, you’d be living that lie with everyone you encounter that week. When I really looked at it that way, I realized that I would not be an appropriate minister to attend that week, and the conference would not be an appropriate one for me at this stage of my ministry. It’s for new clergy, and I’m not a rookie anymore. Perhaps that truth is what the wrestling with the temptation of the all-expenses-paid conference was supposed to teach me.
Clergy in our denomination have detailed ethical guidelines as to how we should and should not conduct ourselves professionally. The most important practice in that regard is that we must not become intimately involved with anyone who views us as their minister. In several states it is illegal for a clergyperson to do so. To do so is to abuse the power which exists inherently in a clergy-parishioner relationship. That fact was conveyed strongly and clearly to me and other ministerial candidates in Protestant denominations when I began seminary over ten years ago. But such emphasis on appropriate professional limits and boundaries was not much taught or practiced during the years prior to that. Other ethical guidelines for clergy are taught us along the way by more experienced ministers, such as that the minister’s discretionary fund not be used for anything from which the minister personally benefits, and that we should not agree to marry a couple when we see clear signs that one person is being bullied or intimidated by the other. And you may or may not have noticed a practice of mine that I began when I was in seminary-- My classmates and I began back then to always intentionally say, not, “I am the minister of the such-and-such church,” but “I serve as minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Winchendon;” not, “my church; or my members,” but “the church I serve, and the members of the church I serve.” Good habits in small ways along the way keep us humble; keep a sense of entitlement from creeping in. I am also in the similar habit of saying, not, “the wheelchair-bound or the disabled” but “a person who needs assistance walking” or “a person with some disabilities, but also so many gifts and graces.” The latter way takes longer, but is respectful of the whole person, rather than defining them by an impairment.
Knowing the right thing to do in an ethical dilemma comes from having thought about one’s moral code beforehand-- And it comes from character formation, which is a large part of our religious education programming in our church-- It also comes from how some people are biologically or psychologically predisposed (I have long thought that the Columbine killers suffered from mental illness)-- And it comes from the values the surrounding culture reinforces for us. Sometimes acting ethically necessitates being countercultural-- We have all experienced points at which that was so, and may have resolved that we had to leave that cultural sphere and find a different one in which our ethics are more the norm. Personally my ethics were formed, in large part, from a piece of writing celebrated by the sixties counter-cultural “hippies” who were enough older than me for me to look up to them, but not so old as to be unhip. When I was a child, this piece of writing was memorized, recited, and printed on beautiful posters with ornate calligraphy-- “The Desiderata,” by Max Ehrmann:
“Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they, too, have their story… If you compare yourself to others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe-- no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt, the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive [God] to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul. For with all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.”
The Desiderata acknowledges that in life we will encounter circumstances which leave us feeling disillusionment, despair, and real fear, as well as awe and inspiration at real heroism. Though I surely would rather not look at the abuses that occurred at Abu Ghraib prison, looking at them also shows us the courageous act of the man who brought the abuse to light, Joseph Darby. In an interview on “Sixty Minutes” last week, Joe Darby told Anderson Cooper how the photographs of the torture of Iraqi soldiers came into his hands. The ring leader of the abuses was Charles Graner, who Darby knew to have a sadistic side. Darby innocently asked Graner if he had any pictures of the Iraq countryside that he could send home to his family. Graner loaned Darby 2 CDs of pictures. Darby copied them, then began to look at them. The first few were scenic pictures of the area. But following those were the now infamous photographs of Americans soldiers torturing Iraq prisoners. Darby told Anderson Cooper, “I’ve always had a moral sense of right and wrong. And I knew that, you know, friends of mine or not, it had to stop… I knew these people were going to prison [and deserved to go to prison].” Darby turned a copy of the CDs in to the army’s Criminal Investigations Division; he tried to do so anonymously. Several months later, the American guards under investigation were removed, and Darby thought he could remain anonymous. But then Donald Rumsfeld, in his televised testimony before Congress, outed Darby as the one who had alerted authorities to the abuses. Darby saw the televised testimony on the news himself. He said everyone in his unit knew within four hours that he was the one who reported the torture. Darby’s unit was supportive of him, but his hometown of Cumberland, Maryland has not been. It’s a military town where the majority of the residents feel that Darby betrayed his fellow soldiers. That sentiment is to such an extreme that it is unsafe for Darby and his wife, Bernadette, to go back and reside there. The couple now lives in an undisclosed location, cut off from both of their relatives. Six of the seven guards involved in the abuse went to prison. Darby told “Sixty Minutes:” “I want people to understand that I went to Iraq with 200 of the finest servicemen I’ve ever seen in my life. But those 200, for the rest of their lives, their unit is going to carry a bad name because of what seven individuals did.” Major General George Fay, who investigated Abu Ghraib, called Darby “courageous” for blowing the whistle. Anderson Cooper asked Darby, “Do you wish that it wasn’t you who was given the CDs?” Darby said, “No, because if they had been given to somebody else, it might not have been reported… Ignorance is bliss they say, but to actually know what they were doing, you can’t stand by and let it happen.” Asked if he’d report it again, even though his daily life is much worse now, Darby said, “Yes. They broke the law and they had to be punished.” “It’s that simple?” Anderson Cooper asked him. “It’s that simple,” Darby replied.
My wish for the world is that no child grows up in brutality and fear, that no adult lives in brutality and fear, that no one lives subjected to brutality and fear. What will it take to create such a world? Alfredo Guevara writes: “I believe that the worst enemy of humanity is ignorance, which is the main motor of indifference, of people living banal, empty lives. I believe that by cultivating people spiritually, raising their ethical and cultural education, refining their sensibilities, we come closer to humanizing them. If we can avoid the dulling process of routine that is one of the main sources of ignorance, and which can affect even the most cultured of men and women, evil will not have many doors open to it. I think that the human quality, the refinement of the spirit, lead to the capacity for love and not only the love of another person. I believe, like the Greeks, like Plato, that love, beauty, and truth make mankind good. These are the antidotes to evil, and they are interconnected truths.” [Ten Eternal Questions, pp. 90-91]
I’ll close this morning with this Jewish prayer [from, “Words of Faith,” First Parish Concord, Mass Unitarian Universalist, p. 91]
“Oh, Divine spirit--
We cannot merely pray to You to end war; for we know You made the world in a way that we must find our own paths to peace within ourselves and with our neighbors.
We cannot merely pray to You to end starvation; for You have already given us the resources with which to feed the entire world, if we would only use them wisely…
We cannot merely pray to You to end despair; for You have already given us the power to clear away slums and to give hope, if we would only use our power justly.
We cannot merely pray to You to end disease; for You have already given us great minds with which to search out cures and healings, if we would only use them constructively.
Therefore, we pray to You instead for strength, determination, and willpower, to do instead of just to pray, to become instead of merely to wish, for Your sake and for ours, speedily and soon, that our land may be safe, and that our lives may be blessed.”
Let it be and, Amen.