Spiritual But Not Religious
Sermon by Steve Edington
January 24, 2010
Last October a tragic incident made the news concerning a couple of participants, in what was called a "Spiritual Warrior" retreat, who died during a sweat lodge ceremony in Sedona, Arizona at a site called the Angel Valley Retreat Center. The retreat was being led by a self-help motivational speaker, and self-proclaimed spiritual guide, named James Arthur Ray. He's incorporated himself as James Ray International. Apparently the conditions in the makeshift sweat lodge became such that those in it could not breathe properly, had no avenue of escape, and were forbidden to leave, until some of the participants found a way to force their way out. In addition to the two participants who died of apparent asphyxiation, several others had to be hospitalized. Mr. Ray was not present when all this took place; others of his associates were in charge of things - or were supposed to be anyway. As you can imagine, all kinds of lawsuits are pending.
Once the media gets a hold of an incident like this it's pretty hard to sort out what all was really going on, and determine who's responsible for what; and that's certainly not what I'm up to here. But as I followed this story, to the extent that I did, it was little side-bar item that caught my attention. According to the reports about this tragedy, the "Spiritual Warrior" retreats that Mr. Ray offers are open to 50 participants at a time, they last for five days, and each participant pays close to $10,000 to participate.
Ten large for a five day retreat to enhance your spiritual life. Wow. The last thing I want to do is make light of the pain caused by the losses that the families and friends of those who died trying to be Spiritual Warriors are, I'm sure, still experiencing. And I do not. It's just that I cannot get this thought out of my head: There are people out there who are ready to pony up ten grand for a five day spiritual hit. I wonder if we've got anything going on here they'd be interested in? When I start thinking these kinds of thoughts you can guess that there's a pledge drive hovering out there on the horizon.
Actually there are programs, workshops, and seminars of one kind or another - all aimed at the general theme of spirituality - that are all over the place on our current cultural landscape. It's usually when an incident such as the one I just noted occurs that they break the surface and become more visible. To put it in admittedly crass language, spirituality is a hot commodity right now; which means, among other things, that some kind of a widespread need or desire is being tapped into. It also means that the responses to that need will include both the real deals, and the charlatans. The only advice I care to offer along this line is your basic caveat emptor: let the buyer beware. "Beware" is probably the wrong word, so I'll rephrase: Let the buyer be careful and discerning.
This by way of introduction to my topic for the morning: Spiritual but Not Religious. This also happens to be the theme of a three day lecture series that I'll be attending, beginning on Tuesday morning, at the Pacific School of Religion - a seminary that is institutionally related to our own Unitarian Universalist Starr King School for the Ministry through Berkeley's Graduate Theological Union. [Just for the record, I ain't payin' no ten grand for this thing!]
The featured speaker is yet another of my theological mentors and guides, Dr. Matthew Fox - who should not be confused with the actor of the same name. Dr. Fox is a former Dominican Priest. He was trained to be a Catholic educator, but was barred from teaching at Catholic-related universities when he questioned the doctrine of original sin. The person doing the barring was a one Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger - now Pope Benedict XVI. Fox was eventually expelled from the Dominican Order altogether and went on to found his own outfit called the Institute for Creation Spirituality in Oakland, California. He has written several books on that subject which I've found to be good and thought provoking reads. He replaces the idea of "original sin" with what he calls "original blessing." I'm looking forward to hearing what he has to say on this "Spiritual but Not Religious" topic, as I consider him to be one of those "real deals" on the contemporary spiritual landscape.
Rather than go any further with Matthew Fox, though, I'm going to return to another of my spiritual mentors. I spoke about him two weeks ago. He's Dr. Harvey Cox and his latest book is The Future of Faith. Those of you who were here on January 10 will recall that I used this book as the basis of a sermon called "The Future of Fundamentalism." Seeing at least two sermons in this thing, today I'm back for Round Two.
To briefly recap, Harvey Cox - who has recently retired as the Hollis Professor of Divinity at Harvard University - holds that we are now moving away from what he calls the "Age of Belief" and into the "Age of the Spirit." He mostly writes as a liberal Christian, while also looking well beyond that faith. The shift as he sees it, from a very far ranging perspective (I called it the view from 30,000 feet), is away from a reliance upon a specified code of beliefs, to a more open-ended and wide ranging quest for "spirituality," when it comes to our looking for meaning, depth, and some greater purpose in our lives. Matthew Fox's move from Priest to proponent of his "creation spirituality" is a personal and microcosmic example of this larger shift that Harvey Cox is describing: From Age of Belief to Age of the Spirit. To go to the text:
"Spirituality," Harvey Cox writes, "can mean a host of things, but there are three reasons why the term is in such wide use (now). First, it is still a form of tacit protest with the preshrinking of 'religion'...Second it represents an attempt to give voice to the awe and wonder before the intricacy of nature that many feel is essential to human life without shuffling them into ready-to-wear ecclesiastical patterns...Third, it recognizes the increasingly porous borders between the different (religious) traditions.."
Cox then offers this rejoinder: "The question remains whether emerging new forms of spirituality will develop sufficient ardor for justice and enough cohesiveness to work for it effectively. Nonetheless the use of the term 'spirituality' constitutes a sign of the jarring transition through which we are now passing, from an expiring Age of Belief into a new but not fully realized Age of the Spirit."
Two weeks ago I spoke to some of the ways I differed from Harvey Cox on this matter, as to his take on the future of fundamentalism, while also speaking of my deep appreciation for how his thoughts and writings have been of great value to me for over forty years, as they have come to shape my own religious and spiritual journey. But since I'm also in large agreement with the case he makes in his latest book, today I'm going to take Dr. Cox at his word as to this transition he signaling, and see where we might go with it.
I do have a problem with the very phrase I've used for my sermon title, and the conference theme I've already mentioned. It carries an implied presumption of "Spirituality good...Religion bad." That does have a ring of truth to it on the surface. But if we dig a little deeper it's not that simple. I believe we'll find the two are related, in a positive way; and if we push a bit we can get at that relationship. And so, to push off:
I'm among those who believe we human beings are hard-wired for spirituality, with some of us, to be sure, more heavily hard wired than others. We human beings know two basic things; we're aware of two basic things: One, that we are finite beings - we're born and we die; and, two, we live for a time in a vast and mysterious universe. We don't generally go around with these thoughts in the forefront of our minds, what with all the other stuff we have to think about and act on, on any given day. I know I don't. I don't wake up in the morning thinking well, here I am, a finite creature in a vast and mysterious universe. It's more like, OK what do I have to do today and where's the coffee?
But that greater awareness, let's call it, is still tucked away in there somewhere. We are finite creatures, plunked down here in a universe with more unknowns than knowns, with more mystery to it than what we discovered about it. It's a universe that gives us both awe and anxiety.
More so than thinking cosmic thoughts, it's being present at, or closely affected by, the birth of a child or the death of a loved one often has a way of bringing this latent awareness up to the surface of our lives. What kind of a life will this newborn child have? What will he or she do with it? Why did this person have to die? What did his or her life mean in the grand scheme of things? And, come to think of it now, what about mine? A personal crisis can also give rise to these ultimate kinds of questions, just as an unexplained and unexpected blessing can.
Spirituality, in broad strokes then, is an attempt to come to terms with all that. It has to do with how we both reach within ourselves and beyond ourselves as we seek some connection, some relationship with that which we know is greater than ourselves, even if we don't have a name for it, or even much of a concept of what this mysterious "IT" is. Spirituality is also the quest or drive for some sense of personal peace, and some kind of self-acceptance, in the face of all that is unknown to us, as well as in the face of some of the hard tests and painful trials that life does inevitably visit upon us. Spirituality is a search for blessing whether or not one believes in a "Blesser" with a capital 'B'.
That's spirituality; it's time to give religion its turn now. Religion, in its most commonly understood sense, is an attempt to codify spirituality as I've just described it. Religion, in its codified form, says that if you want a blessing, then here's the capital 'B' Blesser you need to believe in. If you want personal peace and assurance in the face of the mysteries of the universe, and in the face of the mysteries of life and death, well then, here's a set of beliefs and practices for you to follow so you can get there.
Most religions have their origins with a "first generation" having a spiritual experience which they - quite understandably--want to somehow see preserved for future generations. So they try to figure out a way to hold onto it so they can then pass it on. The disciples of Jesus, good Jewish folks one and all, had the spiritual experience of their direct encounter with their Master and Spirit Guide - and they had their shared spiritual experiences with one another - which, a couple of hundred years later, came to be codified into a religion called Christianity. Yes, I know that's an oversimplification but it also describes an age old process.
If we go with this distinction then the phrase "spiritual but not religious" makes sense. And Harvey Cox is quite right when he says that one of the reasons the term "spirituality" has such currency right now is because it is, in his words again, "a form of tacit protest with the preshrinking of religion... (and) an attempt to give voice to the awe and wonder before the intricacy of nature that many feel is essential to human life without shuffling them into ready-to-wear ecclesiastical patterns." I got ya, Harvey, but let's press on.
Let's press on and try a different take on the term "religion," with the hope of doing more than just playing a semantic game with it; and also in the hope of getting beyond the more commonly understood meaning of the word. The root meaning of the term religion - re-ligare - in Latin, means to bind together, or to bind back together. The words "religion" and "ligament" are of the same root.
A ligament holds your bones in place so they can work the way they're supposed to. My wife, Michele, has a fused right wrist because the ligaments broke down causing her wrist bones to float around, which in turn caused a lot of pain. The bones had to be fused together many years ago.
Religion. Re-ligare. To bind back together. Understood in this way I feel religion and spirituality can complement one another rather than be at odds with each other.
The pursuit of spirituality - the spiritual journey - taken apart from community or apart from some sense of commitment to a greater good, beyond the good of self-fulfillment, becomes very vacuous very quickly. I really have no problem with persons on their own spiritual quests taking their journeys, or going to their retreats or workshops or seminars - and paying whatever they can afford to pay for it. It is their money, after all and none of my business about how they spend it.
My only rejoinder is that if the result of such a quest is that you go home with a nice buzz that holds you over until your next hit, then you're a bit like those wrist bones just floating around. Where's the ligament that binds you and calls you to some greater purpose than that of self-fulfillment or self-actualization - wonderful and desirable as those things are? I do not pose the question in a self-righteous way. I like a little self-fulfillment and a little self-actualization of my own, and set aside times to pursue them. But I also need a community to which I can return.
A religious community, in the best and, indeed, in the most accurate, sense of the term is one in which its members do find their own personal spiritual growth and nurture, while also sharing in a sense of connectedness with one another and a sense of commitment to a greater human and greater global good. I happen to think that one on-the-ground expression of that greater human and global good is found in our own Unitarian Universalist sets of Purposes and Principles. They are not a creed, but rather a stated set of goals that, I feel, any humane and caring person would consider worth advancing - whether they're a UU or not.
Religion, at its best also provides a story, a narrative that gives it's adherents some sense of connection with a past and a commitment to the future - a future even beyond their individual lives. We tell our family stories for the same reason; to give us a sense of where we've come from, and of how we pave the way for future generations. That's what religion, in it's healthiest sense also does. It offers a narrative, a story, about the human condition and the human search for meaning - and offers us a way to connect with, and be bound to, that story.
To get into the home stretch now, the ongoing challenge before us, as the congregation of The Unitarian Universalist Church of Nashua, is to be place for the spiritual and the religious, in the best sense of both terms. I happen to think we're especially suited to do that if we can keep rising to that challenge, as I believe, in very good measure, we do. Just a quick snapshot of a week or two in our life illustrates this. On a given day our evening, on these premises, or elsewhere you might find a Buddhist meditation session, a drumming circle, a yoga group, a covenant group, or even a yarn spinning group that has a spiritual angle to it.
Gatherings such as these, and numerous others I know I'm leaving unmentioned, offer ways for individuals to be on their spiritual path, or paths. I like to think of what then happens at a Sunday service as a common affirmation of our ties, our ligaments. This is where we affirm and celebrate the ways in which are lives are connected, or bound to, one another. This is when and where we find the ways we can love and care for one another, to know once again that we are not separated beings.
We come also to renew our commitment and our energies to that greater human and global good of which I've spoken, and to seek ever more ways to extend our commitment to justice, equity, and compassion to a world that so greatly needs all three. It is where we come to share our stories, out journeys, and our reaching out towards that which is greater than ourselves, with all the various ways we give voice and expression to that. This, as I see it, is what it means to be both spiritual and religious.
Just one more thread before closing time. Many of those who come into our midst are both moving away from and moving towards; moving away from a religion that they feel not longer serves them, but more importantly desiring to move towards something that will deepen and strengthen their lives. And while these folk probably have a better notion of what it is they are moving away from, it's what they, and we, wish to move towards that is of far more importance. To loop back to Dr. Cox's idea, I'd say we here are well suited for a move from an Age of Belief to an Age of the Spirit, and part of our challenge in being an inviting and vibrant congregation is in finding creative ways of responding to this movement which I feel he is accurately describing.
So, Dr. Cox, it's a good book you've written - as have been most of the ones you've penned over the past four decades. I even got a couple of sermons out of this one. So, I'll give him the last word - well, almost the last word. Harvey one more time:
"As in the past, 'spirituality' can mean a range of different things. For some it can become mere navel gazing, a retreat from responsibility in a needy world. Sleek ads in glossy magazines promise a weekend of 'spiritual renewal' in a luxurious spa where, for a price, one can reap the benefits of a sauna, a pedicure, and a guru who will help you cope with the stress of your demanding job. For others, however, 'spirituality' can mean a disciplined practice of meditation, prayer, or yoga that can lead to a deepened engagement with society...It is evident that different forms of 'spirituality' can lead to either self-indulgence or to deepened social engagement, but so can religion."
Whether we are gathered here in community or dispersed into the various facets of our lives, let us remain mindful of our interdependent needs for both personal depth and what Dr. Cox calls a "deepened engagement with society... in a needy world." In this spirit, and with this in mind, may the journeys of our lives continue.
Stephen Edington
January 24, 2010
