We lit the chalice to this:
This candle burns
the same for us all. It lights the room
equally for all of us. It does not care
what we believe, what mood we are in, what is on our minds, or who we have come
with it.
It burns for us
all.
The story was this:
Once
upon a time . . .
Once
upon a time there was a woman who wanted to know what she was supposed to do
with her life. So she meditated about
it. And one night, after she’d
meditated, she fell asleep, and she had a dream that she was walking through a
forest. And she knew that this dream was
telling her what to do.
So
the next day, she got up and went to the forest, waiting to find an answer to
her meditations.
And
as she was walking along, she saw a patch of red fur lying on the ground. She went closer, and saw that it was a
beautiful red fox, lying underneath a tree.
But the poor fox was injured. She
was going to go and look at it more closely, but she heard a rustle in the
bushes, and all of a sudden a lion leapt out, with a fish in its mouth.
The
woman was scared, and she hid, in case the lion was going to hurt the fox, or
her.
But
what actually happened was that the lion laid the fish down beside the fox,
very gently, and went away again.
And
the fox ate the fish, and the woman could see that it was getting better very
quickly.
And
she thought to herself, “well, there’s my answer! The Great Provider - who takes care of the injured fox – will
also take care of me. I needn’t do
anything. I will be taken care of, if I
just have faith.”
So
she went home, and decided to do nothing, and let the great provider take care
of her. She didn’t go to work, she
didn’t feed herself, she didn’t get washed, she didn’t do anything. She had learned, you see, that she’d be taken
care of, like the fox was.
But
no friendly lions – or even neighbours – came to help her. She got hungry, and smelly, and weak, and
people avoided her.
And
one night, she had another dream. She
was walking in the forest again, and she saw the Great Provider, who she’d been
relying on to look after her.
“Oh
Great Provider!” she called out to him, in the dream. “You took care of the little fox, but you are
not taking care of me! I learnt my
lesson when I saw the fox and the lion, and I trusted you to take care of me!”
And
the Great Provider replied “You got the lesson wrong though. I didn’t want you to be the fox. I wanted you to be the lion.”
The sermon went like this:
Part One (which came after this (or, at least, the actual Wager): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pascal's_Wager)
I hope your
headaches have subsided after hearing the details of Pascal’s wager. It’s going to get worse shortly when we hear
the Atheists’ Wager.
Fairly obviously,
I got the inspiration for this service from Alain De Boton’s recent work
“Religion for Atheists.” It’s a fairly
readable, if not particularly groundbreaking book. It contains some very good points, though I
find it annoying in many ways. The
Guardian, incidentally, calls it an impertinent work.
I don’t think
it’s impertinent. I think it has huge
strengths. It points out that religious
practice adds a great deal to the lives of many that is missing in the secular
world. True. It points out that belonging to a religious
community can make people live better, behave better, and co-operate
better. True. It points out that religious faith formalises
difficult situations, brings solace and comfort, and provides a framework for
carrying on in the face of adversity.
True.
But it does so with a sort of underlying
assumption that those of us who go to church, those of us who have a religious
belief or who enjoy the ritual and formality of church life, do so blindly and
unaware of how we’re being led. And I
don’t think that’s fair.
I realise that
I’m talking to the wrong sort of congregation here for any of this to be
news. Almost by definition, you can’t be
a Unitarian without having given some thought to what you believe and why, and
why you are a Unitarian, and why you come to church, and all of that. It comes as no surprise to any of us – even
the most firmly entrenched atheists – that there is much to gain from
religion. Equally, it should come as no
surprise to us – even the most firmly entrenched theists – that there is much
to gain from our atheist friends. After
all, those of us who are atheist would hardly be in church at all if we did not
have something to gain from it, and those of us who are theist would not be in this church if we were not open to the
strengths of non-theists.
One thing I very
much liked about the book is that it’s moved away from the concept that to be
atheist is to be anti-religion, and to be religious is anti-atheist. Unlike Dawkins and his ilk, De Boton seems to
have a great respect for religion, if a slightly patronising view of the
religious.
The book has a
lot to say to us as Unitarians – a lot of which I think we know already. I personally like its underlying message that
it’s perfectly fine for secularists to steal the bits of religion that they
want and that they find useful. After
all, religions – including us – have been nicking stuff off each other for
centuries, and it’s enriched them all, so there’s no earthly reason why other
people shouldn’t nick it too.
There’s quite a
lot on the internet about what atheists, non-theists, can learn from
religion. It’s a topic that’s been
around for many, many years, long before De Boton got his hands on the
subject. What surprised me is that it’s
hard to find anything about what the religious can learn from atheism. I have no real theories about why that might
be, but it certainly struck me as notable.
That’s the book
review part out of the way. After our
next hymn I’ll be moving on to talk about what we can do with the messages from
the book, and whether there’s really a dialogue to be had between the benefits
of believing in God and not believing in God.
I hope you’ve all
got that. I had to stare and stare at it
for a long, long time before it started to make sense.
I want you to
imagine, if you can, a Unitarian church where you might go and have someone try
to change what you think or believe. And
I want you to imagine that someone at that church had such good powers of
persuasion that they were able to do so.
Now I want those
of you don’t believe in God to imagine that you become convinced of the logic
and sense of believing in God. And I
want those of you who do to imagine that you become convinced of the logic and
sense of not believing in God.
That’s
all well and good. That’s either
Pascal’s wager or the Atheists’ Wager working.
But
what’s missing?
You
can follow those theories down to the last full stop. You can be completely sure that one position
of the other is logical.
And
it won’t change a thing.
Because
belief – faith – is not the same as rationality.
As
a theist, I often come across people trying to persuade me of why it’s
illogical to believe in God. Why he
(she, or it) can’t exist. Why I’m
fooling myself. Blah blah blah. And I’m sure it’s just the same in reverse
for the non-theists.
And
I am often completely convinced by the arguments of the non-theists who think I
have an imaginary friend up in the sky.
It isn’t a logical
standpoint. It doesn’t actually make
sense.
At
that has no bearing on my continuing to believe in God. The fact that I believe in God doesn’t have
anything to do with a logical statement, or a conscious decision, or a desire
to save myself from going to a hell I don’t even believe in. I just believe in God. I can’t conceive of not believing in God.
And
in exactly the same way, most atheists and non-theists I know just don’t
believe in God. No conscious decision,
no running through a checklist of options and working out which is the most
sensible course of action.
Some
people are religious. Get over it. Some people aren’t. Get over that, too.
I
think what tires me about the whole debate about what religious people can
offer to non-religious people and what non-religious people can offer to
religious people is just that it’s so divisive.
It sets the two groups of people up in opposition – and there’s a
difference between believing something opposite and being in opposition.
If
you google atheism, a lot of what you find isn’t actually about atheism. Instead of being positive about atheism, there’s
a tendency to attack religion. And likewise, it’s saddeningly easy to find
religious groups attacking and sneering at atheism. I think my favourite on that front was the
synopsis of a book called Jimmie and the atheist: “Jimmie,
caught in his burning home, is saved by an atheist at the risk of his own
life. Jimmie, in turn, is used to bring his benefactor to the Lord Jesus
Christ. Good salvation message.”
It
makes me sad that it seems to have to be this way. We live in a world which is slowly but surely
moving away from this sort of thinking.
Society is more and more comfortable with the fact that some people are
black and some are white, some are male and some are female, some are gay and
some are straight. We wouldn’t, I hope, dream of seeing an encounter with
someone of a different ethnicity as an opportunity to tell them why we are
better than them. And yet we still seem
to struggle with this notion that religion and atheism are different but equal.
Of
course, sitting here in our Octagon bubble, we probably do look at this from a
slightly different angle. You can’t be a
non-theist Unitarian and not have respect for religion. You can’t be a theist Unitarian and not have
respect for non-theism.
And
there is a risk in that, as well. If you
haven’t already looked at the cartoon on the front of the order of service,
have a look now. I think we need to be
mindful of thinking of ourselves as “better than other atheists because some of
our best friends are religious,” or vice versa.
I feel qualified to say that there’s this risk, because it’s a trap I
sometimes fall into myself. “Me? Yes, I’m religious, but I’m not like some
other religious people because I love humanists and atheists too, and I even
think they may be right.”
It’s
not attractive, it’s not okay, and we really do have to watch out for it.
Most
of the talk about what religion can offer to atheists is about practices, about
the things religions do that can offer something do those who don’t adhere to
them. And there’s lots. Equally, there’s an awful lot that religions
can learn from the secular world – perhaps most importantly, what the secular
wants and doesn’t want.
But
what it really boils down to is what people
can offer to other people. My
atheist and non-theist and humanist friends have a huge amount to offer
me. And it’s got very little to do with
their atheism or non-theism or agnosticism or humanist. It has everything to do with the fact that
they are my friends. I try very hard not
to go round choosing friends based on what they can offer me, anyway – I prefer
to make friends with people because I like them and they like me – but it would
be utterly absurd to sort of decide I should have an atheist in my life because
I might be able to learn from them. I
don’t want to be friends with someone because they think my faith makes me
interesting, either.
Each
of us here has a huge amount to offer to everyone else who is here. Not because of what we do or don’t believe,
and not because of who or what we do or don’t believe in, just because every
single human being has a huge amount to offer to every single other human
being.
And
if we really do believe in equality, and I hope we do, then it gives me hope
for a world in which we won’t need to come up with theories about what religion
can offer atheists, or what atheists can offer to religion, any more than we
need to come up with theories about what people of colour can offer to white
people, or what straight people can offer to gay people.
We sang:
All are welcome here.
Heritage
Others call it God
For the splendour
of creation
The spoken prayers went like this:
Please
join with me now in a time of prayer and reflection.
Put
down anything you’re holding on to, and make yourself physically
comfortable.
Relax
your body, and let yourself settle into the quietness of this time.
And
now let us join our hearts and minds in the quiet of meditation and prayer.
How
shall we pray?
First,
let us be open to the silence. Let us hear the sounds in this room, and the
noises outside. Let us begin to hear the soft beating of our hearts. And let us
listen intently for messages from within.
Next,
let us feel gratitude for our lives and for our beautiful earth. As hard as
life gets, as sad or lonely as we sometimes feel, let us always be warmed by
the gifts of this life.
Next,
let us hold in our hearts all those, known or unknown who are in need. May we
find in ourselves the energy and knowledge to bring care to the world.
And
finally, let us be aware of the blessing that it is not ours alone to do the
work of the world. Love and community work wonders that we by ourselves could
never manage.
In
this time of silence let us form our own prayers out of the concerns of our
hearts.