What you will read below is the text of the sermon I gave to the Denton Unitarian Universalist Fellowship on 2/26/06. It is put here for any and all to see that want to know a bit more about my background. If you find it of value and of some comfort, or would like to share it with friends and/or family, you have my permission. Just please give credit where credit is due.
It would come to no surprise to the parishioners of St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Wichita, KS that I would be standing behind a lectern speaking to you here on a Sunday morning. However, many would be surprised that it took me so long to get here, and most would furthermore be disappointed that it's not taking place in a Catholic Church and in the robes of a Catholic Priest. I truly loved the church of my childhood for many reasons. First, we had one of the greatest Pastor's of all time. Father Joe would come over to our house on Sundays, especially in the fall when he'd watch the football game with my Dad. And another part of it had to do with the fact that I had an unusual connection to my church that also led to a kind of celebrity status for my family. My great-grandfather laid the sidewalk around the Church when it was built so when you walked up to the church, you'd see "D****** 1905" engraved in the concrete. Looking back now, it could have been funny when people would tell us that they thought our name seemed familiar to have told them, "If you are looking down as you walk up to the Church, you see our name every 5 feet."
(pause)
Like many aspects of our lives, my religious journey has two sides, there are the surface reasons that everyone sees, and then there are the deeper aspects to each stop along the way that it takes many years for us to realize, or admit to.
I will use today's story to show how this concept works. There are two reasons why I chose to tell The Woodcutter's Story for today's Story for all Ages. First, the Prince takes off on a grand journey with the end goal to become King after his father. But it's not just a journey towards securing a career, but a journey of self-discovery not unlike the spiritual journey that I will be describing today and that most of you have undertaken yourselves. The second reason is much more simple, I like telling the joke about the "Lumberjack formerly known as Prince" as it always gets a laugh from the adults, and a quizzical look from the kids. I first began telling this story back in my days as a park ranger at Ray Roberts Lake State Park and continue to tell it to my 4th graders to introduce our unit on fairy tales, even though they are too young to get the joke.
The first example of this heads/tails dichotomy as it relates to my religious journey is my First Communion. Most know this as the rite of passage Catholic children go thru during the 2nd grade. Like many children, I tried to understand and respect the significance of the event. But also like many children, I also understood the material reward that would follow. Frank McCourt writes in his memoir Angela's Ashes about his First Communion growing up in Ireland. He tells how after First Communion, the boys would walk up and down the lanes of their neighborhood and the neighbors would throw change to the boys who would then buy candy and go to the pictures.
In my own experience, I received more money than I had ever been given up to that point of my life. We had lots of my family and friends from the church over to our house after services that day and everyone had an envelope and every envelope had money inside. I would get in a small bit of trouble after all was said and done because when the doorbell rang, I took off saying, "Money! Money! Money!" all the way to the door. Fortunately, I was young enough that it was considered more cute than rude. Heads, I was a new Catholic being given the privilege of receiving the Lord into my body. Tails, a kid who thought he'd just struck the mother lode!
Let's fast forward a couple of years where the same little boy, now 10, decided he wanted to always be heard during the responses in the service. I would say everything at as loud a volume as I could muster, like I was making sure that God himself heard me all the way in Heaven. Some people were annoyed and complained to the priest. He found it refreshing that a young boy was so involved in the service and did not ask me to tone it down. Heads, I was a little boy who had confused being loud with being holy. Tails, a little boy who just wanted to be noticed.
Things would go along pretty smoothly until the teenage doubt began to set in. I think it's fairly normal for teenagers to doubt their religious upbringing. It's part of the adolescent psyche to question everything that's been told to them by adults during their childhood. As Henry David Thoreau said, "I have learned nothing from my elders and I have nothing to leave for those coming behind me. Life is to be experienced first hand by each generation." Such it is that each generation, starting for some with adolescence, will begin to question their spirituality and search for their own answers, just as I began to do.
I had a further influence on my becoming disenchanted with the Church when my parents divorced. As you all know, the Catholic Church frowns greatly on divorce and after a divorce, both parties are banned from receiving the sacraments, and that just seems wrong to me. My dad is the one who chose to leave, so I could understand why he would be ostracized. But my mom didn't want the divorce and did what she could to save the marriage, why was she being punished? It never did sit right with me, and I consider this one of many ways the Catholic church needs to modernize to save itself.
The American poet James Kavanaugh puts in words what I was basically feeling at this time in his poem Becky�s God
Becky's God is all thunderbolts and lightening sticks
Ready to zap sinners with cancer and rivers of molten lava,
Not missing a single adulteress or roving husband,
Keeping books on all of us like an obsessive compulsive accountant.
Becky's God thunders from Sinai and forbids Moses the Promised Land,
Robs Job of herds and flocks and enthrones him on a dunghill,
Opens the earth to swallow pagans and murders the eldest sons Of Egypt,
Decimates the folks of Jericho and introduces Samson to Delilah.
Becky's God killed Koreans and set fire to villages in Vietnam,
Murdered the Kennedy's and snuffed the temptress Marilyn Monroe,
Cursed the Jews who killed his Son, invented AIDS to wipe out Homosexuals,
Made Blacks to serve the Whites and shopping malls for sinners.
Come to think of it, Becky's God sounds a lot like Becky!
This was the God I could no longer believe in. A God that punishes all without regard for reasons. A God that punishes groups of people instead of looking at each individual. A God that punishes first and asks questions later, if the questions get asked at all. A God that punishes those who ask questions, and lets the unthinking go scot-free. So I gave up. I called it quits on God and called myself an Atheist. It seemed the only logical thing to do, if I no longer believed in the God of my childhood, how could I believe in any God at all? Not to mention, I had no experience or knowledge of other Gods, only the Catholic version I had grown up with. Heads, a rebelling teen going against the grain. Tails, a kid who had questions but didn't know how to find the answers.
Of course, being a teenager, I couldn't keep these issues that were inside me to myself. Nor could I bring them up to my parents in any sort of acceptable way. You don't get teenage style points by not causing conflict. So I flaunted my new freedom to my family. Used my new freedom to try and bring down their faith, their beliefs. Any time I read or heard of something that might run counter to my Mother, I'd run and throw it at her. To her credit, my Mom, strong in her faith as she always has been, deflected most of it and credited most of it to just another annoyance of raising an adolescent.
It was during this time that I first read Robert Fulghum�s All I Really Need to Know about Life I Learned in Kindergarten. Robert is of course one of our more famous modern UU's, and was the person that first introduced me to the word Unitarian. But as much as I enjoyed that book, it would be a number of years before I truly understood it. I'm going to speak more on this in a few minutes, but realize that at this time, when I was reading Kindergarten for the first time, I came upon a story where Robert says, "If there's a heaven and if I go there (and don't bet heavily on either one)..." and I couldn't run to the living room fast enough. Heads, a teenager who had to be right at all costs. Tails, a teenager who really wanted to know the Truth.
During my senior year of high school, I would be hospitalized in Bedford Meadows Psychiatric Institute for nearly 6 weeks. There were many reasons for what happened that aren't relevant to this discussion, but the scars from those reasons, though nearly faded with time, still lie within me. But this period of time is important to my religious journey as it was in the hospital's after-care program that I met Father Leo Booth.
Father Leo is an Episcopalian Priest, recovering alcoholic, licensed therapist and motivational speaker. He came to the hospital and spoke to current residents and former residents like myself some 6 months after my discharge. He was the first person in a long time to put God in more of a light that I could understand. He spoke not of a judgemental and vengeful God, but a loving God, a friendly God, and as he said, "The God of the 12 step program."
After listening to his program, entitled Say Yes to Life, I felt an awakening in my soul not unlike a bear first awakening after a long winter's nap. I cried, I laughed, and I got both a handshake and a hug from Father Leo when it was over. The essence of the program is that we are in control of all parts of our life, both the physical and the spiritual. It is up to us to make things happen in our life. It is up to us make our relationship with God what we want it to be. One of the main things I keep with me still is his definition of active prayer.
Prayer without action will achieve nothing. You have to take your Prayers and make them work for you.
I decided based on the events of that night, to give God another chance. I took out my old Crucifix necklace, dusted it off, and began wearing it again. I went back to Church on a weekly basis and all the things a good Catholic does. And that was where the logic was missing. Father Leo isn't a Catholic Priest (though the Episcopal church is related, all the commandments, half the guilt). And though he was an Episcopalian Priest, even he had issues with the Episcopal Church when he started using grape juice instead of wine for his services, "I had to use grape juice, half the congregation is alcoholic!" is one of the jokes from his seminar.
But it never occurred to me to at least look up an Episcopal Parish. I went with habit and returned to a Church that hadn't changed. And it wouldn't be too long before I found myself asking the same questions and feeling the same thing I had felt when I left. Why does the Church talk about God in such negative terms. They would read from the Bible which talks about God's love, but then turn on the guilt and tell us how we must not do this and you can't do that or you'll suffer eternal damnation. I couldn't reconcile my beliefs with their version, and again, I left, this time for good. Heads, a young adult who wanted to believe in something. Tails, a young adult who had been disappointed once again.
I went without religion for quite some time, but preferring the term Agnostic rather than Atheist. I believed that there was likely something out there, I just hadn't found it yet and I was somewhat more determined to do so. As I am about to talk about Robert Fulghum in some more detail, let me use one of many quotes from him that defines how I feel in regards to religion. It's actually from a story about Christmas and how commercialism was overtaking any spiritual meaning of the season, and Robert says about Christmas that he's, "...too old to believe in it, and too young to give up on it. Too cynical to get into it, too needy to stay out of it." That describes my relationship with religion to a tee even to this day. Very cynical about it, too needy to deny it altogether.
And since we're on the subject of Robert Fulghum, let's go a little deeper. By this time he had three books out and I had read them all, and he kept talking about being a Unitarian Minister. I liked the word Unitarian and the feeling it engenders. The dictionary defines "unite" as - To bring together so as to form a whole. Again, I like this even years before I'd walk through the doors here at DUUF because it seemed to promote the God Leo Booth spoke of, a friendly God who loves all, is open to all, and judges no one. The word Unitarian seems contrary to my Catholic upbringing, which, along with most mainstream Ways, seeks to divide people into the Right Way and the Wrong. I wanted to be united, with people and with God in whatever form I was to find him.
But again, I wouldn't immediately come to DUUF or any other UU Fellowship despite living here in Denton. I used the miracle of the internet and began to search for a better spiritual fit. This was in the late 90's and Paganism was experiencing an explosion in popularity as many people, especially those disenfranchised by mainstream religions sought a place to belong. So my first stop along the recent journey was neo-paganism. I set out reading books and meeting in pagan chat rooms. I set out very interested in Druidry as I wanted to connect religion with my Irish ancestry. I remembered the words of Father Leo so many years before, make religion work for you. And what better way to make it work for me than to connect it to something as personal as my heritage.
But ultimately, I could not find what I needed in the Pagan community either, and while this next comment is not aimed at the CUUPS members here today, the final decision to move on occurred when I experienced a type of Pagan Fundamentalism, as humorous a statement as that would appear. It was in a Pagan chatroom of a well known and popular site back then that maybe even some in this room remember, Triplemoon Witchware. The owner was present in the chatroom with us that night for a discussion on Karma and when one longtime member stated he did not believe in Karma or the Rule of Three, he was countered with, "It does not matter whether you believe in it or not, it exists and you are bound to it." This from a woman who claimed to be open to all paths, all beliefs. It was a major disappointment. Now of course, not all Pagans would agree with that statement, but not all Christians are divisive either.
I then looked to the Eastern Philosophies reading books on Zen Buddhism and Taoism, which have been my favorite so far. But still nothing that precisely says, "John, you are home." I do really like Buddhism's emphasis on self-growth, but it has too many rules and in some ways, it asks you to give up too much of yourself. Another close, but not exactly right fit.
The word Unitarian continued to sit in the back of my mind. And as I once wrote in a personal essay, Robert's books became my bible, the books I turned to for guidance or to soothe pains such as my divorce. So upon my return to Denton in the fall of 2004, I began to consider DUUF in a more serious light. Thus it came to pass that I would walk through these doors and all of you would become part of my life. Heads, an adult surrounded by people who are supportive of the questions that remain unanswered. Tails, an adult who has a place to search for those answers.
Now that I have told you about how I have come to be standing in front of you on this Sunday morning, what do I believe? Some of you may have seen this before as it's posted on the web for all to see. But it's my statement of religious belief, and in it I use the following analogy for descriptive purposes.
We have all put together a puzzle, right? Either with friends, siblings, parents, whomever. We take the 500 pieces out, scatter them around the floor and begin studying them. Each piece is shaped so that it fits with other pieces and forms one obvious picture.
Stay with me here and this will make sense. To me, the world's religions are the puzzle pieces above. At one time, there was one picture made up of all these pieces. But at some point, some one came along and scattered the puzzle pieces to the far corners of the globe. Buddhism pieces fell in Eastern Asia, Hinduism in Southern Asia, Muslim pieces in the Middle East and Christianity in Europe and then carried over to the Americas. Many different flavors of aboriginal religions also fell across Africa, the Americas and the south Pacific.
Each region looked at it's puzzle piece and thought that was the picture itself. They were so blinded by what they had been given, they couldn't see how the edges of their piece were rounded, and might fit with something else. To them, the piece was an only child, as unchangeable as the earth's surface. If only they could have recognized that it was just one of many pieces, they could have sought out others and put the puzzle back together. Maybe then we wouldn't be dealing with Arabs vs. Christians, Jews vs. Everyone, and other religion based wars that have plagued mankind.
How did I come to these thoughts. If you study enough of the religious texts, and I still have a long way to go, you will see that many so called "different" religions all follow a similar outline. Most of them originate from a single person, many have similar stories told within their Holy Books of floods, resurrections and the like. They all tend to have one or more Gods that can inflict punishment upon the unfaithful.
So the differences aren't really as fundamental as the fundamentalists would have you believe. But as each region found their piece, they used their own language to name it. So we get Allah, God, Jesus, Mohammad. But it's the same thing. From UH-OH: Some Observations from Both Sides of the Refrigerator Door by Robert Fulghum -
Arguing whether or not a God exists is like fleas arguing whether or not the dog exists. Arguing over the correct name of God is like fleas arguing over the name of the dog. And arguing over whose notion of God is correct is like fleas arguing over who owns the dog."And from the same story -
Water is everywhere and in all living things � we cannot be separated from water. No water, no life. Period. Water comes in many forms � liquid, vapor, ice, snow, fog, rain, hail. But no matter the form, it�s still water. Human beings give this stuff many names in many languages, in all its forms. It�s crazy to argue over what its true name is. Call it what you will, there is no difference to the water. It is what it is . . .As it is with water, so it is with God."
I was once pushed to answer the question of my beliefs by a new employee I was training for a job back before I started teaching and I eventually brought this book and showed the interrogator this story. He was attending Seminary to be a Baptist minister and his only comment at the end was, �It sounds way too Humanist for me,� and we never spoke about religion again. And he�s right, it does sound Humanist because it is, and there�s nothing at all wrong with it.
So that's that. These are my thoughts on religion as I have them today, 2/26/06. I am going to leave you with two poems by James Kavanaugh that I have found to be very accurate with my current religious situation.
My Easy God is Gone
I have lost my easy God -
the one whose name I knew since childhood.
I knew his temper, his sullen outrage, his ritual forgiveness.
I knew the strength of his arm, the sound of his insistent voice.
His beard bristling, his lips full and red with moisture at the moustache,
His eyes clear and piercing, too blue to understand all,
His face too unwrinkled to feel my child's pain.
He was a good God - so he told me - a long suffering and manageable one.
I knelt at his feet and kissed them,
I felt the smooth countenance of his forgiveness.
I never told him how he frightened me,
How he followed me as a child
When I played with friends or begged for candy on Halloween.
He was a predictable God, I was the unpredictable one.
He was unchanging, omnipotent, all-seeing,
I was volatile and helpless.
He taught me to thank him for the concern which gave me no chance to breathe,
For the love which demanded only love in return - and obedience.
He made pain sensible and patience possible and the future foreseeable.
He, the mysterious, took all mystery away, corroded my imagination,
Controlled the stars and would not let them speak for themselves.
Now he haunts me seldom: some fierce umbilical is broken,
I live with my own fragile hopes and sudden rising despair.
Now I do not weep for my sins; I have learned to love them
And to know that they are the wounds that make love real.
His face illudes me; his voice, with all itspity, does not ring in my ear.
His maxims memorized in boyhood do not make fruitless and pointless my experience.
I walk alone, but not so terrified as when he held my hand.
Now my easy God is gone - he knew too much to be real,
He talked too much to listen, he knew my words before I spoke.
But I knew his answers as well computerized and turned to dogma His stamp was on my soul,
His law locked cross-like on my heart,
His imperatives tattooed on my breast, his aloofness canonized in ritual.
Now he is gone - my easy, stuffy God
God, the father-master, the mother-whiner, the
Dull, whoring God who offered love bought by an infant's fear.
Now the world is mine with all its pain and warmth, with its every color and sound;
The setting sun is my priest with the ocean for its altar.
The rising sun redeems me with the rolling waves warmed in its arms.
A dog barks and I weep to be alive, a cat studies me and my joy is boundless.
I lie on the grass and boy-like, search the sky.
The clouds do not turn to angels, the winds do not whisper of heaven or hell.
Perhaps I have no God - what does it matter? I have beauty and joy and transcending loneliness,
I have the beginning of love - as beautiful as it is feeble - as free as it is human.
I have the mountains that whisper secrets held before men could speak,
I have the ocean that belches life on the beach and caresses it in the sand,
I have a friend who smiles when he sees me, who weeps when he hears my pain,
I have a future full of surprises, a present full of wonder.
I have no past - the steps have disappeared the wind has blown them away.
I stand in the Heavens and on earth, I feel the breeze in my hair.
I can drink to the North Star and shout on a bar stool,
I can feel the teeth of a hangover, the joy of laziness,
The flush of my own rudeness, the surge of my own ineptitude.
And I can know my own gentleness as well, my wonder, my nobility.
I sense the call of creation, I feel its swelling in my hands.
I can lust and love, eat and drink, sleep and rise,
But my easy God is gone - and in his stead
The mystery of loneliness and love!
No Angry Gods.
No more angry gods for me tossing thunderbolts like frisbees!
No more stone-eyed preachers threatening eternal lakes of fire!
No more bloody, atoning crucifixions to coat the innocent in guilt!
No more hostile words making Jesus the sacred bile of buried rage!
No more bibles spewing venom from rabid tongues of private fury!
No more bitter verses teaching frothing hate and gnashing teeth!
I want gods who can love and laugh from morning till night,
Laugh till the days skip and frolic, and weeks fall giggling over months and years.
I wnat to be saved from greed and avarice and good investments,
Saved from anger and fear, from courts and hostile words
That drain my life and leave no patch of ground to walk on
In a world grown dark and grey, where the news is beyond enduring!
Life was meant to be joyful, work expressive of the best I am,
God attendant to my needs, and angels to guide me from all harm.
Can I go back and do it again? Feel what I feel, and find love for whatever I happen to do or be?
I want to lead an army of laughing people across freeways and over the hills,
Rid the world of gloom and despair, loneliness and unkind words!
I want to form a parade that marches beyond sad stories and human tragedy!
Finally, I understand that the man from Galilee knew a better way of simplicity and love.
A pity his spokesmen still turn joy and promises into the lot of a galley slave!
And even more the pity he does not return to start again
And clarify!!(end of sermon)
Credits
Poems: James Kavanaugh - Quiet Water: The Inspirational Poems of James Kavanaugh, Copyright 1991.Robert Fulghum - Quotes came from All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, copyright 1988 and Uh-oh: Tales from Both Sides of the Refrigerator Door, copyright 1991.
Father Leo Booth: More information about Father Leo can be found at http://www.fatherleo.com/dailymed.shtml
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