Fifteen years ago, a growing awareness of my sexuality led to my embrace of kink and polyamory. Ten years ago, I began to reconnect with Unitarian Universalism as a home where my sexuality and my values intersected, and where I was convinced that others would be able to do so as well. Indeed, many other kinksters and polyfolk are found in UU congregations and organizations, and shared with me the hope that the radical hospitality they had provided to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender folks would be extended to us. Now, after much effort, and some serious reflection on recent events, I've come to another conclusion:
I was wrong.
I've often talked about the difference between "UUism" and "UU-dom" with others, much like when some radical Christians distinguish their values and ideals from the practices of institutional Christendom. I had thought that the discordance between the values of UUism and the practices of UU-dom would somehow decrease. Instead, I've seen them grow much worse.
UUism is presented as being centered on love and reason, but UU-dom is more fixated on money and image. UUism is presented as being a community seeking common ground and radical transformation, but UU-dom is run like a business conglomerate which plays off various factions like checkers on a game board. UUism is presented as extending radical hospitality for all, but UU-dom cherry-picks who is really welcome while squirming with discomfort in reaction to the rest.
I still believe in the values espoused under UUism. I am no longer able to put up with the practices of UU-dom.
At the beginning of this journey, I would have enthusiastically told anyone identifying with kink and/or polyamory to check out their local UU congregation. Over time, I've heard from too many such people who have either fled or been driven out, sometimes because they were met with hostility, sometimes over other problems. I've heard from too many leaders within the UUA who will praise my work and encourage me to keep going, but only in private and off-the-record, and with no meaningful support beyond that. As for the pushback experienced in recent months, I won't burden you with the details. Suffice it to say that, with all the dysfunction and dissembling I have witnessed, my only honest answer to what I thought of UUism would be: "Great in theory, but far too few real-life examples."
Perhaps, one day, UU-dom will come closer to UUism's values. But I don't see that happening in my lifetime. So it is time for me to take a different path, and to say ... Goodbye.
Showing posts with label Unitarian Universalist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Unitarian Universalist. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Thoughts on "Atheist Churches"
Ask many Unitarian Universalists what they think of Sunday Assembly -- the growing network of communities offering "all the best bits of church, but without the religion, and awesome pop songs" -- and the response will seem politely dismissive, often wondering why these folks don't just join us instead of "reinventing the wheel."
You're about to read a dissenting view.
Yes, there's much that Sunday Assembly (and another US-based movement, called the National Oasis Network) could learn from UUs. But I would contend that the relatively rapid growth of these so-called "atheist churches" also shows that UUs might learn more from them. Such as ...
People will find ways to meet their needs, even if it means sidestepping "official" channels. I've seen it in my work as a medical equipment specialist, where families are willing to pay out of pocket for walkers or electric beds rather than wait for doctors to fulfill the cumbersome requirements of Medicare, or endure the waiting lists of our competitors. When you need a wheel, you find a way to get one, even if the only "legitimate" supplier tells you to fill out a form and wait for their staff to get to it. Same thing for the kind of "alternative" community offered by Sunday Assembly, Oasis Network, or UUs.
Where the efforts of these newer groups will lead, I don't know. But my impression so far is that Unitarian Universalists will not learn from what success they've garnered so far by ignoring or dismissing them.
You're about to read a dissenting view.
Yes, there's much that Sunday Assembly (and another US-based movement, called the National Oasis Network) could learn from UUs. But I would contend that the relatively rapid growth of these so-called "atheist churches" also shows that UUs might learn more from them. Such as ...
- Keeping the message simple: The Oasis Network holds to five basic principles, beginning with "People are more important than beliefs." Sunday Assembly's philosophy is expressed even more succinctly as "Live Better, Help Often, Wonder More."
- Including without diluting: Both of these networks were started by committed secularists and atheists, yet they also welcome and include the full range of people who would not fit into a traditional religious communities. The emphasis is less on bashing religion (like the "New Atheists") or mimicking it, and more on building an alternative community around shared ethical concerns and psychological needs.
- More egalitarian: Linked to both their inclusion and freethought roots, the communities in these networks are less reliant on professionals and experts, even drawing on models from Quakers and more radical "emerging" church groups.
- Meeting people's needs: Atheist and Humanist groups have previously focused on intellectual needs, almost to the exclusion of emotional and aesthetic ones. Sunday Assembly and Oasis are attempting a more holistic approach.
People will find ways to meet their needs, even if it means sidestepping "official" channels. I've seen it in my work as a medical equipment specialist, where families are willing to pay out of pocket for walkers or electric beds rather than wait for doctors to fulfill the cumbersome requirements of Medicare, or endure the waiting lists of our competitors. When you need a wheel, you find a way to get one, even if the only "legitimate" supplier tells you to fill out a form and wait for their staff to get to it. Same thing for the kind of "alternative" community offered by Sunday Assembly, Oasis Network, or UUs.
Where the efforts of these newer groups will lead, I don't know. But my impression so far is that Unitarian Universalists will not learn from what success they've garnered so far by ignoring or dismissing them.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Are We Becoming "the Protest Church"?
As I was recovering from surgery recently, the friends I was staying with introduced me to someone who would seem open to Unitarian Universalism. An openly gay African-American man, progressive and well-educated, interested in spirituality but not committed to any single tradition.
And yes, he'd heard of UUs. "Oh yeah – the Protest Church."
That led to a couple of conversations during my first week of recovery, followed by another last night. I don't know if Carl's perspective of is typical of the "Nones" who avoid UU churches, but it's worth considering.
Carl generally agrees with our principles, and our non-creedal approach. But how he sees us currently engaging the world bothers him. While he's glad to see UUs on the picket lines on various issues – immigration, voting rights, Black Lives Matter – he still has reservations about what he considers an "overly reactive" approach. To him, UUs seem to "jump into" a movement, and then into another, and then another. He does admire the commitment and compassion around this, and he also remembers our leadership around LGBTQ rights, especially marriage equality. But when I consider his career path, I begin to understand where he's coming from.
Carl took a master's in psychology, and would employ it in diversity training and conflict resolution. He made an effort to help build bridges – and mend fences – between the LGBTQ community and people of color, then with police and other first responders, and so on. He took the time to learn more about the kink and polyamory communities, and had begun efforts to educate others as well. From one-on-one mentorship to speaking in front of groups, what struck me the most was he didn't wait for disaster to strike, or for a particular issue or cause to make the headlines.
I'm sure many UUs, especially ministers and other leaders, will respond with a sense of indignation. "Hey, we do that, too! We do all sorts of things like that!" But I had to remind myself that this wasn't about Carl not knowing these details. It was about what he was able to see of UUs engaging the world, by marching in picket lines with matching yellow shirts and attention-getting banners – "the Protest Church."
What Carl told me has prompted a good deal of questions. I'm still struggling with the answers.
And yes, he'd heard of UUs. "Oh yeah – the Protest Church."
That led to a couple of conversations during my first week of recovery, followed by another last night. I don't know if Carl's perspective of is typical of the "Nones" who avoid UU churches, but it's worth considering.
Carl generally agrees with our principles, and our non-creedal approach. But how he sees us currently engaging the world bothers him. While he's glad to see UUs on the picket lines on various issues – immigration, voting rights, Black Lives Matter – he still has reservations about what he considers an "overly reactive" approach. To him, UUs seem to "jump into" a movement, and then into another, and then another. He does admire the commitment and compassion around this, and he also remembers our leadership around LGBTQ rights, especially marriage equality. But when I consider his career path, I begin to understand where he's coming from.
Carl took a master's in psychology, and would employ it in diversity training and conflict resolution. He made an effort to help build bridges – and mend fences – between the LGBTQ community and people of color, then with police and other first responders, and so on. He took the time to learn more about the kink and polyamory communities, and had begun efforts to educate others as well. From one-on-one mentorship to speaking in front of groups, what struck me the most was he didn't wait for disaster to strike, or for a particular issue or cause to make the headlines.
I'm sure many UUs, especially ministers and other leaders, will respond with a sense of indignation. "Hey, we do that, too! We do all sorts of things like that!" But I had to remind myself that this wasn't about Carl not knowing these details. It was about what he was able to see of UUs engaging the world, by marching in picket lines with matching yellow shirts and attention-getting banners – "the Protest Church."
What Carl told me has prompted a good deal of questions. I'm still struggling with the answers.
Friday, July 3, 2015
SCOTUS and the Rest of Us
As Americans waited for the Supreme Court’s decision on same-sex marriage, most who knew and watched the court anticipated that the final outcome would rest with Justice Anthony Kennedy. During oral arguments, he had posed some challenging questions to Mary Bonauto (attorney for the plaintiffs seeking marriage equality), revealing that he might still be wrestling with the issue. In the end, the majority opinion he wrote included a thorough survey of precedent, analysis, and history in arguing that, just as the institution of marriage had evolved to assure greater equity and individual choice, so it must do so again with regard to same-sex couples.
Antonin Scalia, on the other hand, wrote the most scathing dissent of the four submitted, garnering about as much attention and commentary as the majority view itself. Not only did he dismiss the careful analysis that Kennedy presented, his tone was more scolding than scholarly. Perennial court watchers mused that, had a liberal like Ruth Bader Ginsberg written the opinion, this would not have been the case – but to have a supposed conservative like Kennedy break ranks was too much for him to take. And while Roberts and Alito raised the question of whether the court was moving too far too fast, Scalia seemed to be saying that the court had no purview at all to decide such a matter. To him, the issue is settled, and how dare anyone disagree.
It has often been said that the Supreme Court frequently reflects the larger society. The difference between Kennedy and Scalia – not only in their opinions on this issue, but the approach and attitude of each – likewise reflect the divisions we see in America today. Some people will summon the ability to question, reflect and come to a new understanding; others hang on desperately to the comfortable and familiar, regardless of the consequences.
Yet even we Unitarian Universalists are not immune to such foibles. How often do we resist change or cling to tradition within our congregations, then wonder why our membership numbers stagnate or shrink? How many causes have we embraced as soon as our leaders call for it, yet balk at reasoned appeals for similar issues? How many times do we denounce the zealotry of the Christian Right, only to mirror their militancy when committing to our own "just causes"?
When I studied philosophy in college, a professor once told us: "Epistemology precedes everything, because when we assert our certainty or doubts about anything, we must ultimately ask and answer the question: 'How do we know?'" For this reason, I've come to believe that our fourth principle – the free and responsible search for truth and meaning – is the linchpin upon which the rest are held. Our search must be free from the shackles of dogma and bias, yet responsible in avoiding the pitfalls of fallacy and hypocrisy. Yes, when pursuing justice, we need the fire of passion – but tempered so that we don't find ourselves consumed as our own burnt offering.
Anthony Kennedy is to be lifted up, but not merely because he agreed with us on marriage equality. It is the manner in which he came to that position, and the reasoned eloquence with which he put that position forward. As we move forward, both in engaging the world and searching our own souls, may we follow his example.
Antonin Scalia, on the other hand, wrote the most scathing dissent of the four submitted, garnering about as much attention and commentary as the majority view itself. Not only did he dismiss the careful analysis that Kennedy presented, his tone was more scolding than scholarly. Perennial court watchers mused that, had a liberal like Ruth Bader Ginsberg written the opinion, this would not have been the case – but to have a supposed conservative like Kennedy break ranks was too much for him to take. And while Roberts and Alito raised the question of whether the court was moving too far too fast, Scalia seemed to be saying that the court had no purview at all to decide such a matter. To him, the issue is settled, and how dare anyone disagree.
It has often been said that the Supreme Court frequently reflects the larger society. The difference between Kennedy and Scalia – not only in their opinions on this issue, but the approach and attitude of each – likewise reflect the divisions we see in America today. Some people will summon the ability to question, reflect and come to a new understanding; others hang on desperately to the comfortable and familiar, regardless of the consequences.
Yet even we Unitarian Universalists are not immune to such foibles. How often do we resist change or cling to tradition within our congregations, then wonder why our membership numbers stagnate or shrink? How many causes have we embraced as soon as our leaders call for it, yet balk at reasoned appeals for similar issues? How many times do we denounce the zealotry of the Christian Right, only to mirror their militancy when committing to our own "just causes"?
When I studied philosophy in college, a professor once told us: "Epistemology precedes everything, because when we assert our certainty or doubts about anything, we must ultimately ask and answer the question: 'How do we know?'" For this reason, I've come to believe that our fourth principle – the free and responsible search for truth and meaning – is the linchpin upon which the rest are held. Our search must be free from the shackles of dogma and bias, yet responsible in avoiding the pitfalls of fallacy and hypocrisy. Yes, when pursuing justice, we need the fire of passion – but tempered so that we don't find ourselves consumed as our own burnt offering.
Anthony Kennedy is to be lifted up, but not merely because he agreed with us on marriage equality. It is the manner in which he came to that position, and the reasoned eloquence with which he put that position forward. As we move forward, both in engaging the world and searching our own souls, may we follow his example.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Taking Down Flags ... and Other Obstacles
The horror at Emmanuel AME Church has stirred a wave of reaction, including efforts to get rid of the old "stars and bars" flag of the Confederacy. Would seem like a simple step towards progress, to consign this symbol of a racist regime to history displays, yes?
Well, I've been reading some who have argued that this "purely symbolic" act would do little or nothing to address more fundamental issues around racialized identity. Others has commented that the growing list of companies choosing to pull Confederate flag merchandise from their shelves is only doing this to avoid boycotts and appeal to a growing segment of the marketplace.
I've observed this tendency a great deal among UUs and others seeking a more just and inclusive world – the deprecation of partial solutions, especially when done out of expediency or pragmatism instead of enlightened principle. This is not to say that we shouldn’t continue to call for and strive towards something better. But I do thing we need to ask: Does it make sense to demand perfect motives and perfect actions from imperfect people living in an imperfect society?
I've seen such perfectionism tear movement organizations apart, as their members schism over which solution they consider the "correct" one to follow. I've seen once idealistic friends become hardened cynics because the process of change failed to follow their best-laid plans. And I've seen once promising groups become paralyzed, wondering and worrying which course to take.
When I find myself witnessing such, or slipping into that mode myself, I think of one of my favorite films … Miracle on 34th Street. Yes, Kris Kringle is the seemingly hopeless idealist, trying to revive the spirit of Christmas in an age of growing commercialism and cynicism. But he manages to succeed, not because everyone else suddenly adopts his worldview, but comes to see some practical reason for doing supposedly selfless acts, from the department stores helping people find what they want at another store, to the tired postal workers sending eighteen bags of "Dear Santa" letters to a New York City courthouse.
And in the end, that's ultimately how life works. People don't always do the right thing for the right reasons, or even for the same reasons as others who do them. Actions which may seem trivial to some may be transformational to others. Republicans like David Brooks and John Huntsman, for example, didn't come to support marriage equality for the same reasons as Evan Wolfson or Margaret Cho, nor does the average person commit as much time and energy in expressing their support as a politician or celebrity. But we still welcome them into our movement – don't we?
Well, I've been reading some who have argued that this "purely symbolic" act would do little or nothing to address more fundamental issues around racialized identity. Others has commented that the growing list of companies choosing to pull Confederate flag merchandise from their shelves is only doing this to avoid boycotts and appeal to a growing segment of the marketplace.
I've observed this tendency a great deal among UUs and others seeking a more just and inclusive world – the deprecation of partial solutions, especially when done out of expediency or pragmatism instead of enlightened principle. This is not to say that we shouldn’t continue to call for and strive towards something better. But I do thing we need to ask: Does it make sense to demand perfect motives and perfect actions from imperfect people living in an imperfect society?
I've seen such perfectionism tear movement organizations apart, as their members schism over which solution they consider the "correct" one to follow. I've seen once idealistic friends become hardened cynics because the process of change failed to follow their best-laid plans. And I've seen once promising groups become paralyzed, wondering and worrying which course to take.
When I find myself witnessing such, or slipping into that mode myself, I think of one of my favorite films … Miracle on 34th Street. Yes, Kris Kringle is the seemingly hopeless idealist, trying to revive the spirit of Christmas in an age of growing commercialism and cynicism. But he manages to succeed, not because everyone else suddenly adopts his worldview, but comes to see some practical reason for doing supposedly selfless acts, from the department stores helping people find what they want at another store, to the tired postal workers sending eighteen bags of "Dear Santa" letters to a New York City courthouse.
And in the end, that's ultimately how life works. People don't always do the right thing for the right reasons, or even for the same reasons as others who do them. Actions which may seem trivial to some may be transformational to others. Republicans like David Brooks and John Huntsman, for example, didn't come to support marriage equality for the same reasons as Evan Wolfson or Margaret Cho, nor does the average person commit as much time and energy in expressing their support as a politician or celebrity. But we still welcome them into our movement – don't we?
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Sermon: Tending the Sacred Fire of Eros
Sermon delivered May 3rd, 2015 at First Parish in Cambridge, Massachusetts
As we move towards summer, and life and love abound, so we kindle the fires of Beltane, spreading warmth and light to all.
Fire is a powerful and primal symbol, often evoked to represent both spiritual energy and sexual passion, two vital elements of human experience often seen as diametrically opposed to one another.
But what if religion and sexuality are not so opposed? What if we heeded the words of Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, and sought to reclaim Eros as a spiritual urge?
It seems fitting that I propose this here, in a Unitarian Universalist church, during the pagan festival of Beltane. Both UUs and contemporary pagans are known for an openness to new ideas, and for challenging conventional wisdom. The Wiccan Rede prescribes: “An it harm none, do what ye will”; while the Charge of the Goddess proclaims: “Behold, all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals.” Yet even heathens and heretics may find ourselves struggling to live up to our own hopeful ideals and vision. Even today, for example, some pagans insist on attributing special significance in their rituals to male and female identities, unaware how they exclude people who don’t fit into the gender binary.
This is but one example of the dualistic mentality we must challenge if we are to embrace the spiritual significance of sexuality. From the earliest days of European civilization, the division of reality into polarized categories – often with one category deemed “superior” to another – is a construction we find ingrained in our thinking and behavior to this very day. Other examples of this hierarchical dualism, specific to our religious traditions, include: God versus Satan, angels versus demons, Heaven versus Hell, saved versus damned, saint versus sinner, orthodox versus heretic, and, of course, spirit versus flesh.
This carries over into our view of sexuality, gender and relationships: male over female, procreation over pleasure, heterosexual monogamous marriage over every other form of loving relationship. Even love itself is dissected and sorted, with a purely “spiritual” agape on top, and eros relegated to the bottom. And while most are quick to blame European Christendom, in fact the roots for this dualism may be found in the ancient cultures of Greece and Rome, and other religious movements like Manicheanism, all of which influenced prominent theologians like Augustine. You may remember the famous prayer attributed to him: “God grant me chastity and continence, but not yet!”
How, then, do we overcome this construct of dualism, and learn to embrace more fully the diversity of our sexualities, gender identities and relationship patterns – queer and straight, monogamous and polyamorous, vanilla and kinky, male, female, genderqueer, intersex, asexual, and more – in unity with the creative spirit of Eros? To meet this challenge, let me suggest that the principles and values of our Unitarian Universalist faith may guide us in this path of transformation.
If we believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, then let us affirm in word and deed alike that each of us is deserving of love, joy and pleasure. Sounds easy enough, but how often we forget to affirm this – including for ourselves.
If we believe in justice, equity and compassion, then let us speak out against both discrimination towards sexual and gender minorities of all kinds, and sexual abuse and exploitation; let us further temper our attitudes and actions with compassionate concern, not only for the victims of these wrongs, but for their perpetrators as well.
If we believe in accepting one another as we are, then let us affirm each person's self-determination in how best to fulfill their desires, encouraging one another in a sexual ethic governed by honesty, respect for oneself and others, mutual consent, awareness of risk, and the affirmation of pleasure. In her book Sensuous Spirituality, Virginia Ramey Mollenkott recalled that one of the greatest gifts of inspiration she received was the advice to avoid condemning any other person's attempt to relate, however imperfect we may find it to be.
If we believe in a free and responsible search for meaning and truth, then let us continue to speak up for comprehensive education on sexuality, not only for our children and youth, but as part of a continuous and lifelong process of growth, as a way of furthering our understanding and appreciation of the myriad ways of loving human relationships and erotic pleasure.
If we believe in democracy and the right of conscience, and the goal of a just community with liberty for all, then let us provide safe spaces for people to discuss their questions, concerns and desires regarding sexuality, whether with an intimate partner, or in the context of community.
And if we believe that we are a part of an interdependent web of existence, then let us be mindful that our erotic selves are an integral part of our whole selves, and as such, one with a vital spiritual component. Let us not only infuse our respective sexualities with spiritual values and practice, but in return enliven our spirituality with a celebration of the sensuous and erotic, recognizing and affirming as the late John O'Donohue noted, the "secret relationship between our physical being and the rhythm of our soul," that "[t]he body is the place where the soul shows itself."
Above all else, my friends, let us not be complacent. It is easy to compare ourselves with those holding more conservative and puritanical approaches, patting ourselves on the back for being so much more welcoming and open-minded. But the challenge of our progressive faith is that we must constantly question and challenge one another. We must not only speak our truths in love, but listen when others do the same, and be mindful that doing so also means speaking truth to power – including the "powers-that-be" amongst us.
Beloved friends: As we celebrate Beltane, let us tend the sacred fire of Eros ... that its warmth may comfort us, that its light may guide us, that its energy may empower us to forge new ways of relating, and that we may – all of us – dance together in the circle of life. AMEN, ASHÉ & BLESSED BE
As we move towards summer, and life and love abound, so we kindle the fires of Beltane, spreading warmth and light to all.
Fire is a powerful and primal symbol, often evoked to represent both spiritual energy and sexual passion, two vital elements of human experience often seen as diametrically opposed to one another.
But what if religion and sexuality are not so opposed? What if we heeded the words of Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, and sought to reclaim Eros as a spiritual urge?
It seems fitting that I propose this here, in a Unitarian Universalist church, during the pagan festival of Beltane. Both UUs and contemporary pagans are known for an openness to new ideas, and for challenging conventional wisdom. The Wiccan Rede prescribes: “An it harm none, do what ye will”; while the Charge of the Goddess proclaims: “Behold, all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals.” Yet even heathens and heretics may find ourselves struggling to live up to our own hopeful ideals and vision. Even today, for example, some pagans insist on attributing special significance in their rituals to male and female identities, unaware how they exclude people who don’t fit into the gender binary.
This is but one example of the dualistic mentality we must challenge if we are to embrace the spiritual significance of sexuality. From the earliest days of European civilization, the division of reality into polarized categories – often with one category deemed “superior” to another – is a construction we find ingrained in our thinking and behavior to this very day. Other examples of this hierarchical dualism, specific to our religious traditions, include: God versus Satan, angels versus demons, Heaven versus Hell, saved versus damned, saint versus sinner, orthodox versus heretic, and, of course, spirit versus flesh.
This carries over into our view of sexuality, gender and relationships: male over female, procreation over pleasure, heterosexual monogamous marriage over every other form of loving relationship. Even love itself is dissected and sorted, with a purely “spiritual” agape on top, and eros relegated to the bottom. And while most are quick to blame European Christendom, in fact the roots for this dualism may be found in the ancient cultures of Greece and Rome, and other religious movements like Manicheanism, all of which influenced prominent theologians like Augustine. You may remember the famous prayer attributed to him: “God grant me chastity and continence, but not yet!”
How, then, do we overcome this construct of dualism, and learn to embrace more fully the diversity of our sexualities, gender identities and relationship patterns – queer and straight, monogamous and polyamorous, vanilla and kinky, male, female, genderqueer, intersex, asexual, and more – in unity with the creative spirit of Eros? To meet this challenge, let me suggest that the principles and values of our Unitarian Universalist faith may guide us in this path of transformation.
If we believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, then let us affirm in word and deed alike that each of us is deserving of love, joy and pleasure. Sounds easy enough, but how often we forget to affirm this – including for ourselves.
If we believe in justice, equity and compassion, then let us speak out against both discrimination towards sexual and gender minorities of all kinds, and sexual abuse and exploitation; let us further temper our attitudes and actions with compassionate concern, not only for the victims of these wrongs, but for their perpetrators as well.
If we believe in accepting one another as we are, then let us affirm each person's self-determination in how best to fulfill their desires, encouraging one another in a sexual ethic governed by honesty, respect for oneself and others, mutual consent, awareness of risk, and the affirmation of pleasure. In her book Sensuous Spirituality, Virginia Ramey Mollenkott recalled that one of the greatest gifts of inspiration she received was the advice to avoid condemning any other person's attempt to relate, however imperfect we may find it to be.
If we believe in a free and responsible search for meaning and truth, then let us continue to speak up for comprehensive education on sexuality, not only for our children and youth, but as part of a continuous and lifelong process of growth, as a way of furthering our understanding and appreciation of the myriad ways of loving human relationships and erotic pleasure.
If we believe in democracy and the right of conscience, and the goal of a just community with liberty for all, then let us provide safe spaces for people to discuss their questions, concerns and desires regarding sexuality, whether with an intimate partner, or in the context of community.
And if we believe that we are a part of an interdependent web of existence, then let us be mindful that our erotic selves are an integral part of our whole selves, and as such, one with a vital spiritual component. Let us not only infuse our respective sexualities with spiritual values and practice, but in return enliven our spirituality with a celebration of the sensuous and erotic, recognizing and affirming as the late John O'Donohue noted, the "secret relationship between our physical being and the rhythm of our soul," that "[t]he body is the place where the soul shows itself."
Above all else, my friends, let us not be complacent. It is easy to compare ourselves with those holding more conservative and puritanical approaches, patting ourselves on the back for being so much more welcoming and open-minded. But the challenge of our progressive faith is that we must constantly question and challenge one another. We must not only speak our truths in love, but listen when others do the same, and be mindful that doing so also means speaking truth to power – including the "powers-that-be" amongst us.
Beloved friends: As we celebrate Beltane, let us tend the sacred fire of Eros ... that its warmth may comfort us, that its light may guide us, that its energy may empower us to forge new ways of relating, and that we may – all of us – dance together in the circle of life. AMEN, ASHÉ & BLESSED BE
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Guest Post: You're Talking About My Dad
The following is a post from a fellow UU blogger, who wishes to remain anonymous. It was written in response to this UU World article "Offenders Among Us", and as part of the #sexUUality initiative taken up by UU bloggers. It will be difficult for some to read … but it also deserves to be heard, which is why I have given it space here.
When you say that those monsters shouldn't be allowed in the doors of the Church, that you would never shake the hand of someone "like that", please remember that you are talking about my dad. My dad who started out the same as all of us – feeling attracted to kids because he was one, and who didn't ever grow out of it. Who kept those feelings a secret and felt he had no choice but to manage it all on his own. Who was unable to find resources … any resources… that offered him anything more useful than vitriolic and unequivocal condemnation. My dad who rejected that story, and had nothing to replace it with other than a determination to just have enough will power.
You are talking about my dad, who lived with urges that most of us cannot judge or understand because we don't have them. My dad who thought he could be strong enough to overcome it on his own.
My dad, who fought a hard fight. And who mostly succeeded.
Who kept his struggle (and mine) a secret because he was afraid. Who rationalized his actions and convinced himself he wasn't harming me, because it was too easy to discredit the dominant voices of the day that painted him as a monster. My dad, who I protected. And am still protecting.
I have always been so jealous of the children of alcoholics, of orphans, or even of those who were beat up as kids. They can tell their stories – sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes inspiring. I can't tell you mine. Not with my name attached. I can't tell you about the damage, or about the redemption. About how common it is for abusers (particularly non-violent abusers molesting children they know well) to be able to come to understand the damage and learn new skills and never offend again. About abusers who come forward voluntarily, and about all that they endure to find the help they need. About potential abusers who have never abused because they recognized their urges early on, and sought treatment.
I want to tell you about my father, who was a good man who failed and was failed, and the damage of it. But I will not, because I don't believe he deserves what you would do to him if I told the truth.
I am not at peace with this choice. It breaks my heart. Because I am aware every day of the children out there who desperately – desperately need to hear a story … any story … that is not dominated by a villain who is an evil, ravaging monster. The vast majority of children who are molested are not molested by force – they could speak up, they could say no, they could tell someone. And they don't. We need to start asking why that is.
I didn't know, when I was a child, that I was a victim of sexual abuse. Because the monster paradigm was not something I was able to recognize as applying to my loving, kind, witty, and creative dad. I knew he could not possibly be a child molester because they were all evil, conscienceless creatures – so I thought it was me that was broken. I wanted him to stop touching me, I pleaded and begged for it. I told my family – who didn't believe me, because my dad is a good man – and endured their vitriolic responses. When I couldn't stop what was happening, I left. I endured foster homes and homelessness and many things that were much worse than the family I could have had if my cultural context had been different.
My father was born the way he is. But the rest – the not having the support or treatment that was needed, the years of silence, the torturous discrediting when I spoke up, the years without a family – all of these things could have been prevented.
I am not saying that evil, sadistic abusers do not exist. That story absolutely happens, and we need to validate it. But we need to leave room for other stories – stories like mine. In my case – and in many cases like it – the pattern was evil. The man was not.
I beg you – on behalf of the child I was, the adult I am now – to have the courage to attack the pattern. I beg you on behalf of the child who is in your congregation right now watching your reaction and measuring your level of compassion - to have the courage to be part of something better. I beg you to stop acting based on what alleviates your own suffering – making you feel safer or like you have taken a stand – and to start acting in research based, carefully thought out, empathetic ways. To center your response and your narrative unequivocally on a single priority – the kids. And that means we have to interact with that abuse in whatever way protects and heals the most kids. Part that is that we must stop asking these children to choose between enduring abuse and shattering their families. It means we need to provide treatment options. It means we need to make it possible for pedophiles to come forward and be treated before they abuse. It means that we need to acknowledge that social support reduces recidivism and start providing whatever we need to provide to protect and heal the most kids. And it means we need to do these things wisely – recognizing the genuine risk of reoffending, and also the need to be in constant conversation with those people in our congregation who have histories of abuse so that they understand our motives and our process.
The world is not divided into two options: Take abuse seriously by demonizing and quarantining abusers … or be "soft" on it by allowing them to seek treatment and reintegrate into society. Validating the pain of abused children does not require demonizing abusers. It requires direct validation of the pain – by taking recidivism seriously and putting safeguards in place, and by acting on the potential that any person has to molest. By telling stories in which a person comes forward and the outcome is something other than shattered lives. By preaching about why you must never say to your child "Oh, just kiss Uncle Harold – he’s a nice man", and teaching parents real skills. By role modeling in tiny ways the idea that boundaries get crossed, and demonstrating that being remedied. By living this stuff out in day to day examples right in our congregations. Observing "Actually, I’m not a hug person" followed by "Oh, I’m sorry, I won’t do that again" can open the door in a child’s mind for a non-adversarial way of coming forward and finally protecting themselves.
We validate the boundaries of children by directly validating those boundaries. Not by attacking abusers.
Do not think that by refusing to shake my father's hand, you are fostering my healing. You are not. You are walling me into silence. You are forcing me to relive and remake all the unspeakable choices that filled my childhood. You are preventing healing – of abusers and their victims by oversimplifying a whole spectrum of complex and nuanced situations.
An abused child does not see you punishing a monster, they see you punishing a person. A person who is very similar to someone in their own life. Maybe someone they love, maybe someone they are afraid of. Maybe someone who is the only person who has ever made their mom smile like that, or the person who helps them with their homework and takes them to swim class. And they don't see you punishing that person because they are a child molester.
They see you punishing that person because somewhere, at some point … some kid told. They see one thing: "This is what happens when you tell". They see "this is what we will do to your father, your mom's boyfriend, your sister … "
Make no mistake: What feeds sexual abuse is secrets, and what feeds secrets is fear and shame. What feeds fear and shame is us.
Let's starve it, instead. Let's create a better story. Something a kid could reach for, rather than live in fear of. Let's let go of the idea that by letting acknowledged offenders in, we lose our safe and quarantined congregations, and acknowledge that we never had them. Let's let that go, and focus on what we stand to gain.
We stand to gain an awareness of the potential for abuse in every situation. You cannot quarantine abusers out of any congregation – they are always there – and gaining that awareness is part of the process of putting necessary safeguards in place. We stand to gain a role model for the people in your congregations who are abusers and are looking for a way out – by modeling effective treatment. We stand to gain a role model for people who were abused, and who cannot quite accept the story that all abusers are evil – but at the same time need to heal from the deep pain inflicted by their history. We stand to gain a validation of the pain of abuse – by having active, alive conversations about prevention that focus on the needs of children. And, we stand to gain a new kind of hope.
On some level, the congregation that proceeds with caution and compassion in this area speaks to, on behalf of, and in defense of the child who is currently choosing between silent endurance and shattering the life of a loved one. That congregation embodies another option – a hopeful vision in which the child can speak up and see their abuser treated and their abuse ended. That congregation trailblazes not just respect for the worth and dignity of abusers. They trailblaze for the abused. They are part of creating a new option for kids everywhere. A safe way out. A real way out.
That's something worth reaching for. It's time to extend our hands.
When you say that those monsters shouldn't be allowed in the doors of the Church, that you would never shake the hand of someone "like that", please remember that you are talking about my dad. My dad who started out the same as all of us – feeling attracted to kids because he was one, and who didn't ever grow out of it. Who kept those feelings a secret and felt he had no choice but to manage it all on his own. Who was unable to find resources … any resources… that offered him anything more useful than vitriolic and unequivocal condemnation. My dad who rejected that story, and had nothing to replace it with other than a determination to just have enough will power.
You are talking about my dad, who lived with urges that most of us cannot judge or understand because we don't have them. My dad who thought he could be strong enough to overcome it on his own.
My dad, who fought a hard fight. And who mostly succeeded.
Who kept his struggle (and mine) a secret because he was afraid. Who rationalized his actions and convinced himself he wasn't harming me, because it was too easy to discredit the dominant voices of the day that painted him as a monster. My dad, who I protected. And am still protecting.
I have always been so jealous of the children of alcoholics, of orphans, or even of those who were beat up as kids. They can tell their stories – sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes inspiring. I can't tell you mine. Not with my name attached. I can't tell you about the damage, or about the redemption. About how common it is for abusers (particularly non-violent abusers molesting children they know well) to be able to come to understand the damage and learn new skills and never offend again. About abusers who come forward voluntarily, and about all that they endure to find the help they need. About potential abusers who have never abused because they recognized their urges early on, and sought treatment.
I want to tell you about my father, who was a good man who failed and was failed, and the damage of it. But I will not, because I don't believe he deserves what you would do to him if I told the truth.
I am not at peace with this choice. It breaks my heart. Because I am aware every day of the children out there who desperately – desperately need to hear a story … any story … that is not dominated by a villain who is an evil, ravaging monster. The vast majority of children who are molested are not molested by force – they could speak up, they could say no, they could tell someone. And they don't. We need to start asking why that is.
I didn't know, when I was a child, that I was a victim of sexual abuse. Because the monster paradigm was not something I was able to recognize as applying to my loving, kind, witty, and creative dad. I knew he could not possibly be a child molester because they were all evil, conscienceless creatures – so I thought it was me that was broken. I wanted him to stop touching me, I pleaded and begged for it. I told my family – who didn't believe me, because my dad is a good man – and endured their vitriolic responses. When I couldn't stop what was happening, I left. I endured foster homes and homelessness and many things that were much worse than the family I could have had if my cultural context had been different.
My father was born the way he is. But the rest – the not having the support or treatment that was needed, the years of silence, the torturous discrediting when I spoke up, the years without a family – all of these things could have been prevented.
I am not saying that evil, sadistic abusers do not exist. That story absolutely happens, and we need to validate it. But we need to leave room for other stories – stories like mine. In my case – and in many cases like it – the pattern was evil. The man was not.
I beg you – on behalf of the child I was, the adult I am now – to have the courage to attack the pattern. I beg you on behalf of the child who is in your congregation right now watching your reaction and measuring your level of compassion - to have the courage to be part of something better. I beg you to stop acting based on what alleviates your own suffering – making you feel safer or like you have taken a stand – and to start acting in research based, carefully thought out, empathetic ways. To center your response and your narrative unequivocally on a single priority – the kids. And that means we have to interact with that abuse in whatever way protects and heals the most kids. Part that is that we must stop asking these children to choose between enduring abuse and shattering their families. It means we need to provide treatment options. It means we need to make it possible for pedophiles to come forward and be treated before they abuse. It means that we need to acknowledge that social support reduces recidivism and start providing whatever we need to provide to protect and heal the most kids. And it means we need to do these things wisely – recognizing the genuine risk of reoffending, and also the need to be in constant conversation with those people in our congregation who have histories of abuse so that they understand our motives and our process.
The world is not divided into two options: Take abuse seriously by demonizing and quarantining abusers … or be "soft" on it by allowing them to seek treatment and reintegrate into society. Validating the pain of abused children does not require demonizing abusers. It requires direct validation of the pain – by taking recidivism seriously and putting safeguards in place, and by acting on the potential that any person has to molest. By telling stories in which a person comes forward and the outcome is something other than shattered lives. By preaching about why you must never say to your child "Oh, just kiss Uncle Harold – he’s a nice man", and teaching parents real skills. By role modeling in tiny ways the idea that boundaries get crossed, and demonstrating that being remedied. By living this stuff out in day to day examples right in our congregations. Observing "Actually, I’m not a hug person" followed by "Oh, I’m sorry, I won’t do that again" can open the door in a child’s mind for a non-adversarial way of coming forward and finally protecting themselves.
We validate the boundaries of children by directly validating those boundaries. Not by attacking abusers.
Do not think that by refusing to shake my father's hand, you are fostering my healing. You are not. You are walling me into silence. You are forcing me to relive and remake all the unspeakable choices that filled my childhood. You are preventing healing – of abusers and their victims by oversimplifying a whole spectrum of complex and nuanced situations.
An abused child does not see you punishing a monster, they see you punishing a person. A person who is very similar to someone in their own life. Maybe someone they love, maybe someone they are afraid of. Maybe someone who is the only person who has ever made their mom smile like that, or the person who helps them with their homework and takes them to swim class. And they don't see you punishing that person because they are a child molester.
They see you punishing that person because somewhere, at some point … some kid told. They see one thing: "This is what happens when you tell". They see "this is what we will do to your father, your mom's boyfriend, your sister … "
Make no mistake: What feeds sexual abuse is secrets, and what feeds secrets is fear and shame. What feeds fear and shame is us.
Let's starve it, instead. Let's create a better story. Something a kid could reach for, rather than live in fear of. Let's let go of the idea that by letting acknowledged offenders in, we lose our safe and quarantined congregations, and acknowledge that we never had them. Let's let that go, and focus on what we stand to gain.
We stand to gain an awareness of the potential for abuse in every situation. You cannot quarantine abusers out of any congregation – they are always there – and gaining that awareness is part of the process of putting necessary safeguards in place. We stand to gain a role model for the people in your congregations who are abusers and are looking for a way out – by modeling effective treatment. We stand to gain a role model for people who were abused, and who cannot quite accept the story that all abusers are evil – but at the same time need to heal from the deep pain inflicted by their history. We stand to gain a validation of the pain of abuse – by having active, alive conversations about prevention that focus on the needs of children. And, we stand to gain a new kind of hope.
On some level, the congregation that proceeds with caution and compassion in this area speaks to, on behalf of, and in defense of the child who is currently choosing between silent endurance and shattering the life of a loved one. That congregation embodies another option – a hopeful vision in which the child can speak up and see their abuser treated and their abuse ended. That congregation trailblazes not just respect for the worth and dignity of abusers. They trailblaze for the abused. They are part of creating a new option for kids everywhere. A safe way out. A real way out.
That's something worth reaching for. It's time to extend our hands.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
The Love I Grew Up With
We use the word "love" a great deal in UU circles. Standing on the side of love. Loving the Hell out of the world. Love being greater than fear. Love, love, love.
And I've begun to wonder just what kind of love it is that so many UUs are touting here.
The love I grew up with was demanding, calling on us to do our best, to rise to our potential. It didn't demean by labeling the other person "worthless" or "stupid," but it did challenge by expecting better.
The love I grew up with was responsive, listening and adapting to needs. It started by setting boundaries, then allowing those boundaries to be tested and stretched, and options to be made available. When my brother and I asked a question, for example, my parents didn't just give us the answer, or dismissively bark at us to "go look it up"; they’d walk us over to the bookshelf and say: "Let's find out."
The love I grew up with was trustworthy. When my parents said something was so, you could rely upon it. When they said: "You'll get desert when you finish dinner," or: "We're leaving the house at six to see that movie that just opened," that's exactly what happened. Likewise, if we made promises or commitments, we were expected to keep them.
The love I grew up with was also a love of language. I was raised to believe that words have meaning, just as people have value. Language was important for conveying feelings, exchanging ideas, or asking for help. If we said something that was vague or incomplete, we were asked to make it more clear and precise. Yet we also learned to appreciate the dance of prose and poetry, and the sideways logic of a good joke.
The love I grew up with said: "Don't put anyone down just because they’re different." And my parents meant anyone. If you shouldn't put down someone for having another shade of skin color, you don't put another person down just for being white. A person's attraction to one or the other gender, or none at all, has nothing to do with their ability to be a good friend, do a good job, or hold public office. When I learned in college about how racism, sexism and other oppressive "isms" permeate our society and culture, my mother responded by saying: "Yes, but cultures change as people change, and your task is to ask yourself what kind of society you want to live in, and set the example."
The love I grew up with was many things – and not many things. It was not sentimental. It was not overly indulgent. It was not about surface politeness.
The love I grew up with led me to see in the principles and values of Unitarian Universalist how my parents wanted me to live. And yet, when I see other UUs use the word "love," I sometimes wonder …
And I've begun to wonder just what kind of love it is that so many UUs are touting here.
The love I grew up with was demanding, calling on us to do our best, to rise to our potential. It didn't demean by labeling the other person "worthless" or "stupid," but it did challenge by expecting better.
The love I grew up with was responsive, listening and adapting to needs. It started by setting boundaries, then allowing those boundaries to be tested and stretched, and options to be made available. When my brother and I asked a question, for example, my parents didn't just give us the answer, or dismissively bark at us to "go look it up"; they’d walk us over to the bookshelf and say: "Let's find out."
The love I grew up with was trustworthy. When my parents said something was so, you could rely upon it. When they said: "You'll get desert when you finish dinner," or: "We're leaving the house at six to see that movie that just opened," that's exactly what happened. Likewise, if we made promises or commitments, we were expected to keep them.
The love I grew up with was also a love of language. I was raised to believe that words have meaning, just as people have value. Language was important for conveying feelings, exchanging ideas, or asking for help. If we said something that was vague or incomplete, we were asked to make it more clear and precise. Yet we also learned to appreciate the dance of prose and poetry, and the sideways logic of a good joke.
The love I grew up with said: "Don't put anyone down just because they’re different." And my parents meant anyone. If you shouldn't put down someone for having another shade of skin color, you don't put another person down just for being white. A person's attraction to one or the other gender, or none at all, has nothing to do with their ability to be a good friend, do a good job, or hold public office. When I learned in college about how racism, sexism and other oppressive "isms" permeate our society and culture, my mother responded by saying: "Yes, but cultures change as people change, and your task is to ask yourself what kind of society you want to live in, and set the example."
The love I grew up with was many things – and not many things. It was not sentimental. It was not overly indulgent. It was not about surface politeness.
The love I grew up with led me to see in the principles and values of Unitarian Universalist how my parents wanted me to live. And yet, when I see other UUs use the word "love," I sometimes wonder …
Monday, December 29, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: A Long Time Ago ...
I was fourteen when my parents dragged me to see a movie which, from viewing its TV commercials, I was convinced would be a schlocky excuse for science fiction. When we got to the mall where the theatre was located, the line for tickets went across the parking lot. We managed to get in, the theatre completely crammed – admittedly my least favorite way to watch a movie.
And then, it started …
It’s hard to watch a film like Star Wars in a crowded theatre and not get caught up in the excitement, which is why I insisted on seeing it on my own in a matinee when there were few people around. Something about the film resonated in me, and still does. Roger Ebert, in his initial review, praised it for its “pure narrative” – but there was more to it.
Star Wars and its two sequels, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, give a remarkable balance of elements that transcend traditional storytelling. The characters are archetypal, the conflict elemental, and the setting both distant yet relatable to a modern audience. The trilogy is not just epic narrative, but mythic, so much so that when Joseph Campbell discussed it with Bill Moyers in their PBS special, anyone who had seen the films instantly connected with what he was saying.
But this trilogy isn’t just about heroics and hyperspace – it’s about redemption, about summoning our better selves to bring about what is good and right. The most obvious example is that of Darth Vader, born Anakin Skywalker, enslaved to the “dark side” yet able to throw off his chains to save his son and the Rebel fleet. Yet there are other examples as well. Han Solo, the seemingly amoral smuggler, comes back into the fray to save Luke, then joins the Rebel cause. His friend Lando Calrissian first betrays him and Leia, but then turns against the Empire to bring Leia back to the Rebel fleet, rescue Han from Jabba’s lair, and then lead the charge in the final battle.
But ultimately, this is Luke’s story, and his path from ordinary farm boy to leader and redeemer is all too familiar to us. Consider his response when Obi-Wan Kenobi asks him to come to Alderaan and learn the ways of the Force:
The Star Wars saga also demonstrates that redemption is not merely individual. Communities and societies have been and continued to be called to set things right. Often this process is begun by a mere handful who fearlessly question why things are as they are, envision a better way, and strive to bring that vision to reality.
So, as the New Year approaches, consider renting all three movies for a marathon session. Set aside time to watch them back to back. But don’t watch as escapist heroic adventure. Watch mindfully, as a prophetic narrative. And … May the Force be with you!
And then, it started …
It’s hard to watch a film like Star Wars in a crowded theatre and not get caught up in the excitement, which is why I insisted on seeing it on my own in a matinee when there were few people around. Something about the film resonated in me, and still does. Roger Ebert, in his initial review, praised it for its “pure narrative” – but there was more to it.
Star Wars and its two sequels, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, give a remarkable balance of elements that transcend traditional storytelling. The characters are archetypal, the conflict elemental, and the setting both distant yet relatable to a modern audience. The trilogy is not just epic narrative, but mythic, so much so that when Joseph Campbell discussed it with Bill Moyers in their PBS special, anyone who had seen the films instantly connected with what he was saying.
But this trilogy isn’t just about heroics and hyperspace – it’s about redemption, about summoning our better selves to bring about what is good and right. The most obvious example is that of Darth Vader, born Anakin Skywalker, enslaved to the “dark side” yet able to throw off his chains to save his son and the Rebel fleet. Yet there are other examples as well. Han Solo, the seemingly amoral smuggler, comes back into the fray to save Luke, then joins the Rebel cause. His friend Lando Calrissian first betrays him and Leia, but then turns against the Empire to bring Leia back to the Rebel fleet, rescue Han from Jabba’s lair, and then lead the charge in the final battle.
But ultimately, this is Luke’s story, and his path from ordinary farm boy to leader and redeemer is all too familiar to us. Consider his response when Obi-Wan Kenobi asks him to come to Alderaan and learn the ways of the Force:
Listen, I can't get involved! I've got work to do! It's not that I like the Empire, I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. It's such a long way from here.How many times have we been called as he was, and responded as he did? And while the slaughter of his family is an extreme plot device to set him on his quest, it underscores how the injustices which seem so remote to us ultimately touch our lives as well.
The Star Wars saga also demonstrates that redemption is not merely individual. Communities and societies have been and continued to be called to set things right. Often this process is begun by a mere handful who fearlessly question why things are as they are, envision a better way, and strive to bring that vision to reality.
So, as the New Year approaches, consider renting all three movies for a marathon session. Set aside time to watch them back to back. But don’t watch as escapist heroic adventure. Watch mindfully, as a prophetic narrative. And … May the Force be with you!
Sunday, November 30, 2014
In Defense of Anonymity
Recently, a UU seminarian posted on "The Lively Tradition" blog about the fears and contradictions experienced by many going through the process of ministerial formation. I've heard these and other concerns from others - during and after their time in seminary - and believe this message deserves a fair hearing. Additionally, my experience in the kink and poly communities, and knowledge of LGBTQ history, makes me keenly aware of the dilemmas faced by people made vulnerable by marginalization. yet compelled to speak their truths.
All the more reason that it bothers me to read those responses so willing to dismiss this seminarian's words, simply because no name is attributed to them, and despite the author explaining clearly why they chose anonymity. It seems as if "owning one's words" has become as (or perhaps even more) important than the message itself.
Do we forget too easily those prophetic messages written under assumed names, or no name at all? Have we forgotten how hierarchies of privilege and power - including those within the institutions of our own faith - place people in the bind of being punished for speaking out, yet discounted when they protect themselves from such actions? Are we oblivious to the contradiction of insisting that our ministers be prophetic, so long as they restrict any critique of UU institutions and leaders to officially sanctioned areas?
Anonymous witness has its place, especially in the face of double binds and other silencing mechanisms. I for one do not see those who speak their truths without a name as failing to own their words, but doing their best to raise awareness while protecting themselves from unfair aggression. They deserve to do both, and they deserve to be heard.
All the more reason that it bothers me to read those responses so willing to dismiss this seminarian's words, simply because no name is attributed to them, and despite the author explaining clearly why they chose anonymity. It seems as if "owning one's words" has become as (or perhaps even more) important than the message itself.
Do we forget too easily those prophetic messages written under assumed names, or no name at all? Have we forgotten how hierarchies of privilege and power - including those within the institutions of our own faith - place people in the bind of being punished for speaking out, yet discounted when they protect themselves from such actions? Are we oblivious to the contradiction of insisting that our ministers be prophetic, so long as they restrict any critique of UU institutions and leaders to officially sanctioned areas?
Anonymous witness has its place, especially in the face of double binds and other silencing mechanisms. I for one do not see those who speak their truths without a name as failing to own their words, but doing their best to raise awareness while protecting themselves from unfair aggression. They deserve to do both, and they deserve to be heard.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Chocolat
I’m known for being an unrepentant chocoholic. That reason alone is enough for me to see a movie where this confection is a central point of the story. But Chocolat is not just about that, or about the gift of indulgence.
The theme of this film is about daring to challenge old habits and rituals, especially when they have become ends in themselves. Even the heroine Vianne, who had entered the town and stirred things up with her preternatural confections and free-spirited ways, is challenged to abandon the family ritual of wandering wherever the wind seems to call her – and to make a new home for herself and her daughter.
It is often said that “traditions are answers to questions long forgotten.” The story and the characters in Chocolat remind us anew what those questions are, and call on us to find different ways to answer them. This film also gives a vision of community that goes beyond the strictures of tradition, created out of love and pleasure and imagination ... a vision articulated so well in the homily given at the end by the village's young priest:
I think it would make a great Saturday at any UU congregation to make chocolate treats in the kitchen, then enjoy them while watching this film. Bon appetite, mes amis!
The theme of this film is about daring to challenge old habits and rituals, especially when they have become ends in themselves. Even the heroine Vianne, who had entered the town and stirred things up with her preternatural confections and free-spirited ways, is challenged to abandon the family ritual of wandering wherever the wind seems to call her – and to make a new home for herself and her daughter.
It is often said that “traditions are answers to questions long forgotten.” The story and the characters in Chocolat remind us anew what those questions are, and call on us to find different ways to answer them. This film also gives a vision of community that goes beyond the strictures of tradition, created out of love and pleasure and imagination ... a vision articulated so well in the homily given at the end by the village's young priest:
I think it would make a great Saturday at any UU congregation to make chocolate treats in the kitchen, then enjoy them while watching this film. Bon appetite, mes amis!
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: The Great Dictator
During the rise of Nazi Germany, two famous filmmakers watched Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will at a special showing in New York. One, the innovative Frenchman René Clair, was horrified, believing that unless the film was censored, Western democracy would be lost. His British-born colleague, however, could not help laughing, and even found it inspiring. Thus, Charlie Chaplin went ahead to produce The Great Dictator.
Chaplin was not known as a political satirist. His comedy was very physical, cultivated in British burlesque and refined by his experimentations with film. Yet he was also adept enough to weave the two together, such as in this famous scene in the film:
He succeeded in skewering Hitler and the Nazis, while simultaneously entertaining his audience, framing a very serious discussion with comedic mastery. And it is Chaplin’s ability to stretch his capacities that is the reason why I’ve included The Great Dictator on this list. One of the great human foibles is to neglect or ignore our adaptability, to cling to past patterns rather than exploring innovation. Chaplin was an innovator from the beginning, filming his own physical routines and watching them so that he could refine his performances. Likewise, Unitarian Universalists have been innovative in the past, and continue to do so now. And let's not forget the value of laughter, including parody and satire, to get our message across.
Another reason why UUs would like this film is its ending. Chaplin plays two characters – a nameless Jewish Barber, and the dictator “Adenoid Hynkel”. When the Barber is mistaken for Hynkel and given the microphone to speak to a large gathering, he gives an unexpected speech, the contents of which would resonate with our principles and vision:
Chaplin was not known as a political satirist. His comedy was very physical, cultivated in British burlesque and refined by his experimentations with film. Yet he was also adept enough to weave the two together, such as in this famous scene in the film:
He succeeded in skewering Hitler and the Nazis, while simultaneously entertaining his audience, framing a very serious discussion with comedic mastery. And it is Chaplin’s ability to stretch his capacities that is the reason why I’ve included The Great Dictator on this list. One of the great human foibles is to neglect or ignore our adaptability, to cling to past patterns rather than exploring innovation. Chaplin was an innovator from the beginning, filming his own physical routines and watching them so that he could refine his performances. Likewise, Unitarian Universalists have been innovative in the past, and continue to do so now. And let's not forget the value of laughter, including parody and satire, to get our message across.
Another reason why UUs would like this film is its ending. Chaplin plays two characters – a nameless Jewish Barber, and the dictator “Adenoid Hynkel”. When the Barber is mistaken for Hynkel and given the microphone to speak to a large gathering, he gives an unexpected speech, the contents of which would resonate with our principles and vision:
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Only the Lonely
Not every great film is an instant success. When Only the Lonely was first released in 1991, it received mixed reviews and was only moderately successful at the box office. But it’s considered a hidden gem by many movie buffs, myself included, which is why I’ve included it in this list.
The story starts off slow, which is probably why it wasn’t more successful. But a patient viewer will eventually find not only brilliant performances from the main actors – John Candy, Ally Sheedy, and the legendary Maureen O’Hara (who came out of retirement to do the picture) – plus the chemistry between them, but an intriguing tale of a quirky romance. Danny Muldoon is a middle-aged Chicago police officer who still lives with his domineering mother Rose. When he meets Theresa Luna, an extremely shy woman who works in her father’s funeral home, they begin to date and fall in love. Rose, however, continues her overbearing and bigoted ways, causing friction among them all. Danny finally stands up to his mother, and decides to marry Theresa. While she initially accepts, and Rose softens and welcomes her warmly, Danny’s constant worrying about his mother gives Theresa second thoughts. And then there’s the Greek fellow who’s sweet on Rose. Well, I won’t spoil the ending for you, so …
Rose is clearly the antagonist, from her bullying and narrow-mindedness. But the real conflict rests in Danny’s desire to “be a good son” to his mother. He does this by trying to avoid confrontation with her, even if it means being embarrassed or making excuses. It is Theresa, and his desire to be with her, which leads him to finally let loose and tell her how he feels, that her arrogance and guilt-tripping have made others miserable, and that he will no longer let her stand in the way of happiness. Even after this confrontation, however, he still feels dread about his mother as a result of the years of manipulative emotional abuse she had heaped upon him. Only when he’s able to imagine a better future for her, as well as himself, is he able to move on.
Danny’s perception of what it means to “be a good son” resembles what I see among some Unitarian Universalists in terms of avoiding conflict and glossing over problems. Unfortunately, avoidance is not resolution. So, just as Danny blows up at his mother over her treatment of Theresa and other people, long-simmering issues among UUs likewise come to a head. What a pity that we only have people to help us resolve these issues once a year – the Right Relationship Teams during General Assembly.
Granted, it’s not that easy to summon the strength to make such changes in ourselves and our communities, compared to a character in a movie. Then again, we have an advantage over that character. We don’t have to wait for a screenwriter or director to tell us when and how to begin the process of change.
The story starts off slow, which is probably why it wasn’t more successful. But a patient viewer will eventually find not only brilliant performances from the main actors – John Candy, Ally Sheedy, and the legendary Maureen O’Hara (who came out of retirement to do the picture) – plus the chemistry between them, but an intriguing tale of a quirky romance. Danny Muldoon is a middle-aged Chicago police officer who still lives with his domineering mother Rose. When he meets Theresa Luna, an extremely shy woman who works in her father’s funeral home, they begin to date and fall in love. Rose, however, continues her overbearing and bigoted ways, causing friction among them all. Danny finally stands up to his mother, and decides to marry Theresa. While she initially accepts, and Rose softens and welcomes her warmly, Danny’s constant worrying about his mother gives Theresa second thoughts. And then there’s the Greek fellow who’s sweet on Rose. Well, I won’t spoil the ending for you, so …
Rose is clearly the antagonist, from her bullying and narrow-mindedness. But the real conflict rests in Danny’s desire to “be a good son” to his mother. He does this by trying to avoid confrontation with her, even if it means being embarrassed or making excuses. It is Theresa, and his desire to be with her, which leads him to finally let loose and tell her how he feels, that her arrogance and guilt-tripping have made others miserable, and that he will no longer let her stand in the way of happiness. Even after this confrontation, however, he still feels dread about his mother as a result of the years of manipulative emotional abuse she had heaped upon him. Only when he’s able to imagine a better future for her, as well as himself, is he able to move on.
Danny’s perception of what it means to “be a good son” resembles what I see among some Unitarian Universalists in terms of avoiding conflict and glossing over problems. Unfortunately, avoidance is not resolution. So, just as Danny blows up at his mother over her treatment of Theresa and other people, long-simmering issues among UUs likewise come to a head. What a pity that we only have people to help us resolve these issues once a year – the Right Relationship Teams during General Assembly.
Granted, it’s not that easy to summon the strength to make such changes in ourselves and our communities, compared to a character in a movie. Then again, we have an advantage over that character. We don’t have to wait for a screenwriter or director to tell us when and how to begin the process of change.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Watership Down
This is a tough movie for most people to watch. When we think of an animated film featuring rabbits, our minds gravitate to "cute-and-fluffy". But Watership Down has many episodes of violence, bloodshed and death.
Still, it is an epic adventure in its own right – not just the main story of a group of rabbits finding a new home, but the rich detail of lapine culture, language and folklore drawn from Richard Adam’s book. The rabbits worship the creator-god Frith, represented by the sun, and revere their mythical progenitor El-ahrairah. Fiver, the younger brother of the chief protagonist Hazel, is a seer with powerful instincts. Rabbit warrens are structured societies, complete with a police force called an owsla.
The journey to their new home is not an easy one. First, Hazel and Fiver must convince other rabbits that their home warren is in danger. Then the small band they assemble must find their way to a new home, guided by Fiver's visions and Hazel's cunning. They are welcomed into another warren, only to find that the farmer in the area routinely catches them. Finally, they reach the hill of Fiver's visions – only now they have no females, so they must figure out where to recruit some. Another rabbit joins them, and tells them of a totalitarian warren called Efrafra, run by the ruthless General Woundwort. A plan is devised to infiltrate the Efrafrans and recruit some of its members to join them, leading to a confrontation.
It's long been debated whether this movie is suitable for children to watch. I personally think that it's better for older kids, not just because of the violence, but the complexity of the story. And yes, I think it's an important film for Unitarian Universalists to watch.
This is a story about risk, and specifically about the need of communities to take risks in order to survive and thrive. Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig and other rabbits decide indeed to take the risk – based on their knowledge of how reliable Fiver's visions and instincts have been – to find a new home, and even to fight for its safety. Their opposite is found in the rabbit Cowslip, preferring the easy life of feeding on a farmer's plenty while turning a blind eye to his warren's members being killed by the farmer’s snares.
The early Unitarians and Universalists were risk-takers. It took risk to assert the radical stances in theology and social ethics that they did, to form new religious communities, and eventually to merge under one association. Affirming GLBT equality was also risky, but in the long run changed not only our own faith communities but our nation for the better. And yet … How many congregations, ministers and others cling to old ways of doing things because they seem safe? How many times do we observe abuses in leadership, yet refuse to speak up for fear of being labeled a troublemaker?
Like Hazel's warren, we’re a small scrappy band, our members drawn from many places. But our vision of beloved community may offer hope and guidance – if we are willing to accept that achieving such a vision requires taking a risky journey. Even standing still, while seemingly comfortable, entails a number of inevitable risks. Thus the question is not simply whether we’re willing to risk, but what is truly worthy of taking risks.
Still, it is an epic adventure in its own right – not just the main story of a group of rabbits finding a new home, but the rich detail of lapine culture, language and folklore drawn from Richard Adam’s book. The rabbits worship the creator-god Frith, represented by the sun, and revere their mythical progenitor El-ahrairah. Fiver, the younger brother of the chief protagonist Hazel, is a seer with powerful instincts. Rabbit warrens are structured societies, complete with a police force called an owsla.
The journey to their new home is not an easy one. First, Hazel and Fiver must convince other rabbits that their home warren is in danger. Then the small band they assemble must find their way to a new home, guided by Fiver's visions and Hazel's cunning. They are welcomed into another warren, only to find that the farmer in the area routinely catches them. Finally, they reach the hill of Fiver's visions – only now they have no females, so they must figure out where to recruit some. Another rabbit joins them, and tells them of a totalitarian warren called Efrafra, run by the ruthless General Woundwort. A plan is devised to infiltrate the Efrafrans and recruit some of its members to join them, leading to a confrontation.
It's long been debated whether this movie is suitable for children to watch. I personally think that it's better for older kids, not just because of the violence, but the complexity of the story. And yes, I think it's an important film for Unitarian Universalists to watch.
This is a story about risk, and specifically about the need of communities to take risks in order to survive and thrive. Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig and other rabbits decide indeed to take the risk – based on their knowledge of how reliable Fiver's visions and instincts have been – to find a new home, and even to fight for its safety. Their opposite is found in the rabbit Cowslip, preferring the easy life of feeding on a farmer's plenty while turning a blind eye to his warren's members being killed by the farmer’s snares.
The early Unitarians and Universalists were risk-takers. It took risk to assert the radical stances in theology and social ethics that they did, to form new religious communities, and eventually to merge under one association. Affirming GLBT equality was also risky, but in the long run changed not only our own faith communities but our nation for the better. And yet … How many congregations, ministers and others cling to old ways of doing things because they seem safe? How many times do we observe abuses in leadership, yet refuse to speak up for fear of being labeled a troublemaker?
Like Hazel's warren, we’re a small scrappy band, our members drawn from many places. But our vision of beloved community may offer hope and guidance – if we are willing to accept that achieving such a vision requires taking a risky journey. Even standing still, while seemingly comfortable, entails a number of inevitable risks. Thus the question is not simply whether we’re willing to risk, but what is truly worthy of taking risks.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Casablanca
While most of the films I listed earlier are at least critically acclaimed, not many are considered iconic classics. Truth be told, even this film was only a moderate success when it was first released. Yet it has risen in popularity to be regarded as one of the best films ever produced (if not the best by some, including yours truly).
One could say it's because Casablanca "has it all" – romance, intrigue, suspense, adventure, an all-star cast and much more. But I would argue that it is also a spiritual story of redemption, centered around Rick Blaine.
Putting the flashbacks ahead of the main story, Rick was active against the forces of fascism, running guns in Ethiopia and fighting in Spain with the Republican forces. He was living in Paris at the beginning of World War II when he met and fell in love with Ilsa Lund. As the Germans made their advance, the couple and Rick's friend Sam make plans to flee south, but Ilsa has a note delivered to Rick, saying that she will not be coming with them.
Now in Casablanca under Vichy control, Rick owns and runs the "Café Americain" nightclub and casino. He is withdrawn and seemingly cynical, frequently telling friends like corrupt police official Louis Renault: "I stick my neck out for nobody." Yet even beneath that façade, his earlier sense of commitment peeks through – denying a German banker credit in the casino, allowing a desperate couple to win enough money for passage to a neutral country, mocking attempts by visiting Nazis to intimidate him.
Things get more complicated when Ilsa arrives with her husband Victor Laszlo. Ilsa's presence alone is enough to unsettle Rick emotionally, but Laszlo’s notoriety as a fervent opponent of the Nazis shakes things up even more …
That scene, in my opinion, is the most pivotal of the film. Rick, having crafted an image of neutrality for himself and his café, must suddenly make a choice. Eventually he helps Ilsa and Victor escape, and flees with Louis to join the Free French in Brazzaville. One might see this as a sign of nobility in Rick, but I think this is also about inevitability, in that Rick realizes that the desire for freedom is too great to be squashed by the Nazis or anyone else.
But to do so, he has to give up not only Ilsa, but the safety and security of his life in Casablanca. And it is that willingness to sacrifice for something greater that we could learn from. Most of the time, we hope to make a difference in little ways, just as Rick did early in the story. But Laszlo's arrival reminds him – and us – that ultimately what is good and right demands that we let go of our transient comforts. That doesn't necessarily mean quitting our jobs or living in tents, but it does mean a willingness to stick our necks out for someone now and again. And that in turn means realizing we're not as powerless as we think, that our capacity to change doesn't depend upon how we earn our paychecks or how big those checks might be. Change occurs all around us, often sweeping us up into events bigger than what goes on in our day-to-day lives. But each of us also has the capacity to bring about change, and not just wait for some pivotal moment.
One could say it's because Casablanca "has it all" – romance, intrigue, suspense, adventure, an all-star cast and much more. But I would argue that it is also a spiritual story of redemption, centered around Rick Blaine.
Putting the flashbacks ahead of the main story, Rick was active against the forces of fascism, running guns in Ethiopia and fighting in Spain with the Republican forces. He was living in Paris at the beginning of World War II when he met and fell in love with Ilsa Lund. As the Germans made their advance, the couple and Rick's friend Sam make plans to flee south, but Ilsa has a note delivered to Rick, saying that she will not be coming with them.
Now in Casablanca under Vichy control, Rick owns and runs the "Café Americain" nightclub and casino. He is withdrawn and seemingly cynical, frequently telling friends like corrupt police official Louis Renault: "I stick my neck out for nobody." Yet even beneath that façade, his earlier sense of commitment peeks through – denying a German banker credit in the casino, allowing a desperate couple to win enough money for passage to a neutral country, mocking attempts by visiting Nazis to intimidate him.
Things get more complicated when Ilsa arrives with her husband Victor Laszlo. Ilsa's presence alone is enough to unsettle Rick emotionally, but Laszlo’s notoriety as a fervent opponent of the Nazis shakes things up even more …
That scene, in my opinion, is the most pivotal of the film. Rick, having crafted an image of neutrality for himself and his café, must suddenly make a choice. Eventually he helps Ilsa and Victor escape, and flees with Louis to join the Free French in Brazzaville. One might see this as a sign of nobility in Rick, but I think this is also about inevitability, in that Rick realizes that the desire for freedom is too great to be squashed by the Nazis or anyone else.
But to do so, he has to give up not only Ilsa, but the safety and security of his life in Casablanca. And it is that willingness to sacrifice for something greater that we could learn from. Most of the time, we hope to make a difference in little ways, just as Rick did early in the story. But Laszlo's arrival reminds him – and us – that ultimately what is good and right demands that we let go of our transient comforts. That doesn't necessarily mean quitting our jobs or living in tents, but it does mean a willingness to stick our necks out for someone now and again. And that in turn means realizing we're not as powerless as we think, that our capacity to change doesn't depend upon how we earn our paychecks or how big those checks might be. Change occurs all around us, often sweeping us up into events bigger than what goes on in our day-to-day lives. But each of us also has the capacity to bring about change, and not just wait for some pivotal moment.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Babette's Feast
When Gabriel Axel chose to adapt Isak Dinesen’s story Babettes Gaestebud to the screen, he moved the hamlet where it was located from Norway to western Jutland. The Norwegian coastal towns he saw were too colorful and idyllic, and he thought the bleak fishing village he selected better conveyed the sense of physical and spiritual isolation essential to the story.
The town is the home of a small pietistic sect, its founding pastor assisted by two lovely daughters named Martine and Philippa. While the sisters have many suitors, their father turns them away. Two men in particular would be taken with them, one a French opera singer drawn to Philippa, the other a Swedish cavalry officer visiting his aunt nearby. Each fails to win over the woman they have fallen for, and yet they would remain forever touched by them.
Flash forward thirty-five years, and a French woman arrives at the village with a note, introducing her as Babette Hersant, a friend of the baritone who has had to flee the bloodshed of the Paris Commune. She offers her services as a housekeeper, and for the next fourteen years assists the sisters in caring for the aged members of their dwindling flock. Her only remaining connection to home is an annual lottery ticket.
One day, she receives word that she has hit the jackpot of ten thousand francs. Grateful to the sisters, she offers to cook a full-course French dinner for the congregation, on the founding pastor's hundredth birthday. They had thought originally of a simple meal, but happily accept her offer. Babette commissions a relative to obtain the ingredients – along with fine china, silverware and lines appropriate for such a feast – and their arrival by boat shocks the austere congregants. Not wishing to offend, they covenant to behave as though they were eating the plainest of foods, rather than succumb to the temptations of such exotic and sensual fare.
Joining the congregants for the memorial dinner is the lady of the manor nearby, and her nephew – the cavalry officer from years past, now a decorated general. While still sympathetic to the pietism of his hosts, he is still a man of the world who appreciates the feast set before him, gushing with compliments and reminiscences of each dish and glass of wine, unaware of the pledge made by the others. Yet even the stoic villagers are unable to resist the charms of Babette's culinary gifts, and the bitter division that had built up over the years melt away, as the pleasures of the table cultivate the joys of conviviality. They end the evening joining hands under the stars and singing a hymn, all smiles. The general, having never lost affection for Martine, spends a final moment with her.
And Babette? The former chef de cuisine of the famous Café Anglais of Paris has spent her entire lottery winnings on the feast, without regret or concern. As her friend the opera star had told her: "Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of an artist: Give me the chance to do my very best."
Babette's Feast is not just a story about one woman’s effect on the small village where she finds refuge. It is about the spiritual gifts of pleasure, creativity and abundance. Too often religious movements have told us to distrust our senses and deny our desires. But how else do we appreciate the world about us, and feel bonds of affection for one another? As George Santayana said: "Love would never take so high a flight unless it sprung from something profound and elementary."
I'm sure many Unitarian Universalists will be reading this and thinking: "Well, duh!" Yet I've also seen people who are as imprisoned by worry as any puritanical fundamentalist. Just as the villagers in this film worried about the temptations of sensuality, and religious conservatives frequently worry about eternal damnation, many religious liberals worry about achieving our vision of a better world.
Stepping back and allowing ourselves enjoyment is not merely a means of "taking a break" from our efforts at social justice and self-improvement. They are also a reminder of why we do such things – a glimpse, if you will, of the vision we hope to fulfill – and that our means are inextricably tied to the ends we desire. We need not sacrifice savoring our world in order to save it, and indeed we're better able to do so.
The town is the home of a small pietistic sect, its founding pastor assisted by two lovely daughters named Martine and Philippa. While the sisters have many suitors, their father turns them away. Two men in particular would be taken with them, one a French opera singer drawn to Philippa, the other a Swedish cavalry officer visiting his aunt nearby. Each fails to win over the woman they have fallen for, and yet they would remain forever touched by them.
Flash forward thirty-five years, and a French woman arrives at the village with a note, introducing her as Babette Hersant, a friend of the baritone who has had to flee the bloodshed of the Paris Commune. She offers her services as a housekeeper, and for the next fourteen years assists the sisters in caring for the aged members of their dwindling flock. Her only remaining connection to home is an annual lottery ticket.
One day, she receives word that she has hit the jackpot of ten thousand francs. Grateful to the sisters, she offers to cook a full-course French dinner for the congregation, on the founding pastor's hundredth birthday. They had thought originally of a simple meal, but happily accept her offer. Babette commissions a relative to obtain the ingredients – along with fine china, silverware and lines appropriate for such a feast – and their arrival by boat shocks the austere congregants. Not wishing to offend, they covenant to behave as though they were eating the plainest of foods, rather than succumb to the temptations of such exotic and sensual fare.
Joining the congregants for the memorial dinner is the lady of the manor nearby, and her nephew – the cavalry officer from years past, now a decorated general. While still sympathetic to the pietism of his hosts, he is still a man of the world who appreciates the feast set before him, gushing with compliments and reminiscences of each dish and glass of wine, unaware of the pledge made by the others. Yet even the stoic villagers are unable to resist the charms of Babette's culinary gifts, and the bitter division that had built up over the years melt away, as the pleasures of the table cultivate the joys of conviviality. They end the evening joining hands under the stars and singing a hymn, all smiles. The general, having never lost affection for Martine, spends a final moment with her.
And Babette? The former chef de cuisine of the famous Café Anglais of Paris has spent her entire lottery winnings on the feast, without regret or concern. As her friend the opera star had told her: "Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of an artist: Give me the chance to do my very best."
Babette's Feast is not just a story about one woman’s effect on the small village where she finds refuge. It is about the spiritual gifts of pleasure, creativity and abundance. Too often religious movements have told us to distrust our senses and deny our desires. But how else do we appreciate the world about us, and feel bonds of affection for one another? As George Santayana said: "Love would never take so high a flight unless it sprung from something profound and elementary."
I'm sure many Unitarian Universalists will be reading this and thinking: "Well, duh!" Yet I've also seen people who are as imprisoned by worry as any puritanical fundamentalist. Just as the villagers in this film worried about the temptations of sensuality, and religious conservatives frequently worry about eternal damnation, many religious liberals worry about achieving our vision of a better world.
Stepping back and allowing ourselves enjoyment is not merely a means of "taking a break" from our efforts at social justice and self-improvement. They are also a reminder of why we do such things – a glimpse, if you will, of the vision we hope to fulfill – and that our means are inextricably tied to the ends we desire. We need not sacrifice savoring our world in order to save it, and indeed we're better able to do so.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Ten Films That UU Should Watch: Amélie
I’ve always considered the French approach to filmmaking to be radically different from what typically comes out of Hollywood – and, perhaps, more suited to the mindset of Unitarian Universalists. Images predominates in American films, so much so that the most common critique tends to be: “Looks great, but not much substance.” French films, on the other hand, are incredibly dense with dialogue and narrative and character; the image merely accentuates the story, and the best French movies seem to me an elegantly crafted sequence of tableaux vivants composed and arranged to highlight the story one is hearing.
That’s definitely true with Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain, created by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and known more commonly by just the first name of its titular main character. Originally, Jeunet had intended for Emily Watson (of Harry Potter fame) to play Amélie, but circumstances led him to cast Audrey Tatou – and a good thing, too. Tatou is totally believable as the quirky, introverted waitress who embraces a mission of making others happy in imaginative ways.
In a sense, this is a “manic pixie dream girl” movie with greater substance. For one thing, we get to see what motivates Amélie Poulin to go out and make the world better, one stranger or couple at a time. She is thus no longer a zany plot device, but an actual person with background and depth. Nor do we see her focusing on just one stiff sap – she returns some treasured toys to their original owner, reunites an estranged couple, comforts an abandoned widow, gives a blind man a magical tour of Paris, et cetera. And we delight in every episode, as though we are accessories in her happy conspiracy.
But there’s another reason why Amélie goes beyond the standard manic-pixie-dream-girl trope, and it is the reason why I especially recommend it to UUs. As Amélie goes about making people happy, it is her neighbor Raymond Dufayel who reminds her of the need to cultivate her own bliss, which she does (and no, I’m not going to spoil it by telling you how). Often I’ve seen UUs and other progressives striving so very hard to make the world better somehow, while neglecting their own souls. If this film tells us anything, it is the importance of self-care and self-affirmation, and from that the reminder that our efforts are not merely for one cause or another, but for people like ourselves, and ultimately ourselves as well.
That’s definitely true with Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain, created by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and known more commonly by just the first name of its titular main character. Originally, Jeunet had intended for Emily Watson (of Harry Potter fame) to play Amélie, but circumstances led him to cast Audrey Tatou – and a good thing, too. Tatou is totally believable as the quirky, introverted waitress who embraces a mission of making others happy in imaginative ways.
In a sense, this is a “manic pixie dream girl” movie with greater substance. For one thing, we get to see what motivates Amélie Poulin to go out and make the world better, one stranger or couple at a time. She is thus no longer a zany plot device, but an actual person with background and depth. Nor do we see her focusing on just one stiff sap – she returns some treasured toys to their original owner, reunites an estranged couple, comforts an abandoned widow, gives a blind man a magical tour of Paris, et cetera. And we delight in every episode, as though we are accessories in her happy conspiracy.
But there’s another reason why Amélie goes beyond the standard manic-pixie-dream-girl trope, and it is the reason why I especially recommend it to UUs. As Amélie goes about making people happy, it is her neighbor Raymond Dufayel who reminds her of the need to cultivate her own bliss, which she does (and no, I’m not going to spoil it by telling you how). Often I’ve seen UUs and other progressives striving so very hard to make the world better somehow, while neglecting their own souls. If this film tells us anything, it is the importance of self-care and self-affirmation, and from that the reminder that our efforts are not merely for one cause or another, but for people like ourselves, and ultimately ourselves as well.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Harold and Maude
An experiment was once done in which a screenwriter submitted a script titled “Everybody Comes to Rick’s” to over two hundred agencies, of which only three considered it “commercially viable”. In fact, the script was a slightly altered version of Casablanca - and not one agent who bothered to read it recognized it as such.
So imagine the response of agents and film producers now if they had read the screenplay for the cult classic Harold and Maude.
Harold Chasen is seventeen years old, living with his wealthy mother in luxurious yet suffocating conformity. Two of his favorite pastimes are staging fake suicides and attending the funerals of total strangers. At one of these funerals, he meets a free-spirited elderly woman named Maude, and they become friends. Maude’s cheerful yet eccentric behavior not only appeals to Harold, but teaches him to embrace life more fully, and in time their friendship becomes a love affair – much to the shock of the more conventional folks around him.
Harold and Maude seems to defy convention by being both dark and light in its comedy, while also mixing in poignant moments in its dialogue and visual symbolism to provide some serious commentary on how our society appears to repress individuality. The character of Maude has been compared to the trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, yet I would refute this – Maude may bubble over with youthful exuberance, but she also possesses genuine wisdom and insight, such as in this excerpt:
Not to mention the fact that Harold actually grows as a result of Maude’s encouragement, finally moving beyond his morbid antics into a full embrace of life, still quirky yet very much in tune with his true self, and indeed healing. The ending leaves it open where he’s going, but we feel assured that he’s finally on a path that will lead him forward.
Many have commented that Harold and Maude is deeply existential, with Harold representing alienated nihilism, and Maude the response of living with purpose and free choice. Yet I would contend that it is about how our society ignores, marginalizes and attempts to control those who don’t “fit in” – including and especially youth (Harold) and elders (Maude) – and attempts to address how we might respond. I believe this motif is best expressed in this pivotal scene:
As the above scene shows, there are spiritual consequences to how we deal with difference in our society – and in our UU congregations. How best do we respond to that? This film, I believe, gives us insights into doing so. We need not march in picket lines or steal cars, nor retreat into obsession over the dark side of human nature, but instead embrace with joy our capacity to change and grow each day, and encourage those around us to do the same.
So imagine the response of agents and film producers now if they had read the screenplay for the cult classic Harold and Maude.
Harold Chasen is seventeen years old, living with his wealthy mother in luxurious yet suffocating conformity. Two of his favorite pastimes are staging fake suicides and attending the funerals of total strangers. At one of these funerals, he meets a free-spirited elderly woman named Maude, and they become friends. Maude’s cheerful yet eccentric behavior not only appeals to Harold, but teaches him to embrace life more fully, and in time their friendship becomes a love affair – much to the shock of the more conventional folks around him.
Harold and Maude seems to defy convention by being both dark and light in its comedy, while also mixing in poignant moments in its dialogue and visual symbolism to provide some serious commentary on how our society appears to repress individuality. The character of Maude has been compared to the trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, yet I would refute this – Maude may bubble over with youthful exuberance, but she also possesses genuine wisdom and insight, such as in this excerpt:
Not to mention the fact that Harold actually grows as a result of Maude’s encouragement, finally moving beyond his morbid antics into a full embrace of life, still quirky yet very much in tune with his true self, and indeed healing. The ending leaves it open where he’s going, but we feel assured that he’s finally on a path that will lead him forward.
Many have commented that Harold and Maude is deeply existential, with Harold representing alienated nihilism, and Maude the response of living with purpose and free choice. Yet I would contend that it is about how our society ignores, marginalizes and attempts to control those who don’t “fit in” – including and especially youth (Harold) and elders (Maude) – and attempts to address how we might respond. I believe this motif is best expressed in this pivotal scene:
As the above scene shows, there are spiritual consequences to how we deal with difference in our society – and in our UU congregations. How best do we respond to that? This film, I believe, gives us insights into doing so. We need not march in picket lines or steal cars, nor retreat into obsession over the dark side of human nature, but instead embrace with joy our capacity to change and grow each day, and encourage those around us to do the same.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Ten Films That UUs Should Watch: Pleasantville
The best films not only give us great stories conveyed through imagery and dialogue, but they evoke thought and feeling, even making us question ourselves and our surroundings. That is why I love Pleasantville – a delightfully subversive comedy-drama with Tobey Maguire, Reese Witherspoon, William H. Macey and Joan Allen.
The film begins in the present day, where twins David and Jennifer (he withdrawn into television, she a shallow social butterfly) are fighting over control of the TV remote, which they break as a result. Enter an elderly and enigmatic repairman, who gives them a strange-looking replacement remote. The twins resume their fight over the new device, only to wind up transported into the black-and-white world of the 1950’s sitcom “Pleasantville” – David is now Bud Parker, and Jennifer assumes the role of Bud’s sister Mary Sue.
While David warns Jennifer not to interfere with the way things are ordered in their new setting, Jennifer pays no heed, introducing sex to the denizens of Pleasantville – first Mary Sue’s boyfriend, then the TV mom Betty Parker. Slowly, the town begins to change as bursts of color appear in various areas, then on the people. Books that once had blank pages now show words and pictures as the twins begin to recall stories and images from their real-world lives. And as all of this happens, the characters go off-script and begin to explore their emotions and desires.
The town’s leading citizens – all male, and led by their mayor “Big Bob” – are deeply concerned over how things have disrupted; it’s bad enough that colors are appearing and rain is falling, but now their wives aren’t making them dinner! So they begin to institute restrictions against anything that goes against the previously “pleasant” order of things, censoring books and music, even (yes, it’s on-the-nose) segregating and attacking the newly “colored” people. When David/Bud and the owner of the local burger joint are put on trial for painting a provocative mural, David begins to show that the changes they are experiencing are not some outward influence, but rooted in their own true selves:
Roger Ebert considered this one of the best films he’d ever seen – not just for the stunning cinematography and acting, but as “a social commentary of surprising power.”
Ultimately, the real question for UUs is what kind of world we wish to live in, and to leave to our children and their children. How do our principles fit with the desperate efforts of Big Bob and his followers to keep things the same? Or perhaps, as the young people of Pleasantville discovered, our faith might – and should – offer something more wondrously liberating …
The film begins in the present day, where twins David and Jennifer (he withdrawn into television, she a shallow social butterfly) are fighting over control of the TV remote, which they break as a result. Enter an elderly and enigmatic repairman, who gives them a strange-looking replacement remote. The twins resume their fight over the new device, only to wind up transported into the black-and-white world of the 1950’s sitcom “Pleasantville” – David is now Bud Parker, and Jennifer assumes the role of Bud’s sister Mary Sue.
While David warns Jennifer not to interfere with the way things are ordered in their new setting, Jennifer pays no heed, introducing sex to the denizens of Pleasantville – first Mary Sue’s boyfriend, then the TV mom Betty Parker. Slowly, the town begins to change as bursts of color appear in various areas, then on the people. Books that once had blank pages now show words and pictures as the twins begin to recall stories and images from their real-world lives. And as all of this happens, the characters go off-script and begin to explore their emotions and desires.
The town’s leading citizens – all male, and led by their mayor “Big Bob” – are deeply concerned over how things have disrupted; it’s bad enough that colors are appearing and rain is falling, but now their wives aren’t making them dinner! So they begin to institute restrictions against anything that goes against the previously “pleasant” order of things, censoring books and music, even (yes, it’s on-the-nose) segregating and attacking the newly “colored” people. When David/Bud and the owner of the local burger joint are put on trial for painting a provocative mural, David begins to show that the changes they are experiencing are not some outward influence, but rooted in their own true selves:
Roger Ebert considered this one of the best films he’d ever seen – not just for the stunning cinematography and acting, but as “a social commentary of surprising power.”
The film observes that sometimes pleasant people are pleasant simply because they have never, ever been challenged. That it's scary and dangerous to learn new ways. … Pleasantville is the kind of parable that encourages us to re-evaluate the good old days and take a fresh look at the new world we so easily dismiss as decadent. Yes, we have more problems. But also more solutions, more opportunities and more freedom.Unitarian Universalists are not immune to this desire to keep things as they are, or to hide their discomfort through a grayscale mask of outwardly pleasant behavior. Yet the values of our faith call us to question and challenge one another, to strive to understand the new and embrace what is good about it, not try to keep things as they are simply because “it’s always been that way.” One of the most paradoxical examples is the ambivalent attitude towards polyamory, with a number of ministers whispering behind the scenes that any discussion of it would somehow jeopardize efforts towards marriage equality. As someone who helped start this effort in Massachusetts in the 1990’s, I remember hearing such arguments back then. Holding off on discussing the subject was expedient at that time, but two decades later, it makes no sense now. The movement for marriage equality has gained its own momentum so that even those who oppose it have all but conceded defeat, and media coverage on polyamory has not only increased but prompted people to ask why we should worry if such arrangements seem to work best for some.
Ultimately, the real question for UUs is what kind of world we wish to live in, and to leave to our children and their children. How do our principles fit with the desperate efforts of Big Bob and his followers to keep things the same? Or perhaps, as the young people of Pleasantville discovered, our faith might – and should – offer something more wondrously liberating …
Starting a New Series: Ten Films That UUs Should Watch
Many of my friends know that I'm a movie buff. Along with appreciating the craft of filmmaking, I also see motion pictures as a rich source of iconic and mythic narrative. And if Unitarian Universalism is to be a "religion for our time" then it makes sense that we turn to film as a source of inspiration, just as we do the diversity of literature.
To that end, I've decided to start a new series of blog posts, each highlighting critically-acclaimed films which I believe are worthy of consideration by UUs -- not just for artistic merit (although that's a major factor for determining them) but the spiritual and/or moral message each one conveys.
The first nine films, in no particular order of importance, will be:
I may also have other posts on films later, especially if folks want to make recommendations. But, for now, keep your eyes peeled for this "top ten"!
To that end, I've decided to start a new series of blog posts, each highlighting critically-acclaimed films which I believe are worthy of consideration by UUs -- not just for artistic merit (although that's a major factor for determining them) but the spiritual and/or moral message each one conveys.
The first nine films, in no particular order of importance, will be:
- Pleasantville
- Harold and Maude
- Amélie
- Babette’s Feast
- Casablanca
- Watership Down
- Only the Lonely
- The Great Dictator
- Chocolat
I may also have other posts on films later, especially if folks want to make recommendations. But, for now, keep your eyes peeled for this "top ten"!
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