Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of
“Living Ultimology”
by Rev. Dr. Gretchen Woods
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Let us begin with a story: When I was a young mother, in love
with words and ideas as well as my husband and children, I found myself
struggling with the difference between my experience and the notion of God. One
day, in conversation with my husband about the poetry in which I aired this
struggle, he said, simply, “You can’t use the word “God.” No one
understands what you mean because “God” doesn’t mean to you what it does to
other people.” He was right. I did not mean an old man on a throne pulling
strings to make good things come to some folks and bad things to others, nor
did I mean an anthropocentric being, nor did I mean any of the usual
traditional notions that passed for God. I wasn’t expressing what I meant. What
to do?
So, though I persisted in calling myself a theologian, it
was clear that the word “theos” or “God” (or
goddess or any other derivative) would not truly convey my meaning. I was not
communicating honestly. I began to use words like “Life,” “Oneness,” “All,” and numerous others, before settling, somewhat
uncomfortably, on “Source.” They served me, but just barely.
Still, I wanted to convey my experience of awareness, of
energy/consciousness, of mystery, of wonder, of being as verb (rather than
noun). I resonate with Denise Levertov’s use of “awe”
and “gratitude,” Like many who experience a deep loving connection with life
source, I want to make sense of that experience and share its meaning with
others, as a gift and a blessing. I want to express meaning from my experience.
I want to “do” theology.
Then, just a year and a half ago, I taught Unitarian
Universalist History and Theology at
Bottom line . . . I think we need to move away from language
that carries the baggage that goes with the word “theos,”
or “God.” I have tried to reclaim this word, and culturally grounded
meanings seem to overcome redefinition every time. People dopn’t understand me when I
say “God.” So I am here today to offer alternative language that could allow us
questioning Unitarian Universalists to reclaim the leading edge of thought
about what is ultimate that we held in the 18th and 19th centuries,
moving beyond the cultural limitations of the language of “theology.” In the
process, I would offer agreement with some of the leading critics of current
language about religion, provide an alternative definition of religion, and
outline a process that leads us to a deeper and fuller expression of what is
ultimate for us. I do this, not to tell you the complete and unalterable truth,
which I do not presume to know, but to invite you to examine your own life for
what it tells you is ultimate.
Critics of contemporary theology, especially fundamentalist
theology, offer legitimate critiques: Sam Harris notes, in his book The End
of Faith, “Before you can get to the end of
this paragraph, another person will probably die because of what someone else
believes about God.” (p. 77.) Would it were otherwise, but I find it hard to
refute this criticism, given the situation in the Middle East, Africa, and the
Balkans, to name just three “hot spots.” Richard Dawkins insists that evolution
does not require a God, in the traditional sense. I agree. I think it is sad –
and inaccurate - that religion as the outgrowth of theology is viewed as in
opposition to the notion of evolution.
Still, I observe that scientifically minded critics of
theology and religion are actually arguing against piety, institutional claims
that are culturally bound, or fundamentalism that is more driven by fear and
tribalism than by response to “Beloved Presence.” None of these constitutes
true religion.
As an alternative, I offer a definition of religion that I
learned from the Rev. Dr. Lloyd Averill in one of my doctoral classes: “Religion
is the search for that meaning which has power to give shape to our experience,
purpose to our existence, and motivation and moral energy to our human
enterprises.” This goes to the heart of what is ultimate without requiring a
traditional God. It has nothing to do with how one engages in pietistic
activity, what the polity or power of an institution claims, nor what a
particular culturally grounded text insists. It presumes that we, as conscious
human beings, are engaged in “a free and responsible search for truth and
meaning,” a search that might have some worthy result that we could share with
one another.
Further, the results of this search
should help us to deal with our every day lives, not simply prepare us for some
other life. The results will “give shape to our experience,” so that we can
actually make sense of what has happened to us and be able to go forward from
tragedy or comedy with some clarity. They will “give purpose to our existence,”
enabling us to meet the challenges and triumphs of our lives with grace. They
will give “motivation and moral energy to our human enterprises,” so that we
see clearly what we need to do with our lives in
whatever future we encounter. This is not “otherworldly information.” This is
here and now engagement with the ethical conundrums of our world. It deals with
what is ultimate in our lives.
So, how do we engage this process of “ultimology,”
of our search for meaning that might tell us who we are, why we are here, what
is important and how we might live? In every case that makes sense to me, the
process begins with experience, the “direct experience of that transcending
mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of
the spirit and an openness to the forces that create
and uphold life.” Each of us will experience this in different ways. Some of us
will find it in nature, some in art, some in elegant thought processes, some in simple human connection of intimacy or community.
All else proceeds from our own direct experience, and it is one of the geniuses
of Unitarian Universalism to acknowledge this and affirm it.
This direct experience is spirituality. More precisely,
spirituality is direct experience that leads to the meaning that defines our
religion, “that which ties our lives back together.” When I found – was given -
new words to “Amazing Grace” while walking beside
Spirituality is allied with our human need to communicate,
to share, to offer to others our moments of insight, and thus inevitably leads
to an effort to articulate the meaning of these experiences. That process is
called theology. I would like to deepen and widen the work of theology and take
it out of “God language and any particular cultural context, so that humanity
might benefit without being beleaguered by language or cultural baggage: hence,
the notion of “ultimology.” Let us find ways to speak
of spiritual experience without dragging “God” with all its conflicting
meanings into it. This is ultimology.
Any functional ultimology must be
able to speak to the definition of religion offered by Lloyd Averill. Further,
we must acknowledge that we live our ultimology,
consciously or unconsciously, for we live the meaning we make of our
experiences day to day, whether it be meaning of hatred or love, of fear or
confidence. And finally, not only do we live our meaning-making, our
meaning-making lives: it changes with our living. Do any of you understand life
exactly as you did when you were 10, 20, 30, etc.? I
would propose that you are not truly living if your experience has not caused
your understanding to grow and change, to live! You may or may not be conscious
of the changes, but they are there in your life. So we live our ultimology, and our ultimology
lives in and through us.
Does this mean we can believe anything we want? Far from it!
We need to make sense of our lives resonant with our experiences, with a recognition that we also live with filters that need to be
examined as well. Do we look through a glass half empty or half full? What is
our family predisposition for resilience or for depression? Have we experienced
love that honors our true being? Can we find ways to refill our energies when
they drain away. Our ultimology
is a result of many filters, chances, and choices. And we need to be willing to
challenge our consciousness of all of it. That is why religious community is so
important to our ultimology.
It is in community that we are supported, loved, and
challenged. If the community also has values resonant with the best of life,
both chances and choices, our chances of a richer and fuller ultimology grow. Our religious community recently
experienced a murder, a horrifying and shocking murder. Yet the family has been
held with love and support that has helped to assuage the terrible grief and to
honor the life of the person killed. And the community will continue to do that
for the weeks and months ahead, knowing that this will influence the
consciousness of the spouse and the children so deeply affected by this
senseless loss. This goes beyond words and symbols, it
is experience lived the best way possible in the midst of tragedy. It is
what we are called to do by our Unitarian Universalist values.
So let me note, in conclusion, that the interplay of person
and community, or choice and chance, of awareness of experience, all deeply
affect one’s ultimology. We are human and need to
make sense of our experience. We need to make sense of being alive and knowing
we will die, as
As we become more aware that we live in a global village, we
need to overcome the current predisposition of religion to be culturally biased
and violent toward human beings and all of life. We need to choose symbols,
signs, and rituals that emphasize grace and support and love, rather than
asserting superiority by demanding inferiority of anything “other.” We need to
recognize our place in the larger web of life. And we need to be able to speak
respectfully, articulately, and lovingly to those possibilities for the greater
good of all.
Essentially, we need
to be open to new language that better reflects our experience. As an example,
I close with the poem “Epiphany” by Pem Kremer:
Lynn Schmidt says
she saw You once as prairie grass,
she climbed out of her car on a hot highway,
leaned her butt on the nose of her car,
looked out over one great flowing field,
stretching beyond her sight until the horizon became
vastness, she says,
responsive to the slightest shift of
wind,
full of infinite change,
all One.
She says when she can’t pray
she calls up Prairie Grass.
For Lynn Schmidt, what is ultimate can be seen in Prairie
Grass. What is it for you? That is your ultimology.
How does it live and change? Only you can find out. I wish you blessing of the
search in good community with respect, responsibility, and relish for the
process.
So Be It! Blessed
Be!
“Living Ultimology”
Order of Service
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Welcome
Choral Introit: “Nearer, My _____, to Thee”
by Sarah Flower Adams & Lowell
Mason
Lighting of Chalice, RE Lantern, and
Memorial Candle for Jane Loomis
Opening Words
Opening Song #23 “Bring Many Names”
Teacher Installation
Sung Response – by Kathleen Tracy
Announcements
Celebrating with Music: “ Total Praise”
by Richard Smallwood
Sermon: “Living Ultimology”
Sung Response: #27 “I Am That Great and Fiery Force”
Spoken Response
Candles of Joy and Sorrow/ Offering
Meditation
Closing Song #31 “Name Unnamed” (verses 1-3)
Closing Words
Closing Song #31 “Name Unnamed” (verses 4 & 5)
Celebrants: Lorene Hales
the Rev. Dr. Gretchen Woods
Music Director: Ray Elliott
Pianist: Raven Sanders
Co-Directors of Religious Exploration:
Niya Standish and Michael Molk