Elisa Voss,  October 1998

I believe all things are connected...all things material, ethereal and spiritual. The connection itself is what I call "God" or "Great Spirit." I believe there can be no greater trust than trust in God/the Great Spirit/the Energy that connects all things. I believe it is a uniquely human contradiction to seek communion with God and to question the existence of God. I believe the myriad of religions around the world are cultural responses to the connection of all things. Religions, through allegory, attempt to explain our relationship with it.

I believe the Buddhist notion that there are many paths to the top of the mountain. As a teenager, after my father died, I tried to reconcile the idea of the fatherly, Christian God of my childhood with my more abstract ideas about God. Using the human body as a metaphor, I decided that if God had a body like ours, each of us would be like a cell in God's body. I saw myself as a skin cell in God's finger. I had some fun thinking about this, again, particularly with the literalist in mind: I would have to be on God's left hand due to my Liberal predisposition. Conservatives, of course, would be on the right side of the Body. It follows that Liberals and Conservatives can both represent "the hand of God." This explains why "the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. " "God, only, knows!" (Maybe, John and Janet are "the voice of God.") Enough...back to me as a cell in God's body. Let's say I experience pain or injury; I send a message of pain to the brain of God and God knows to transmit what I need through the nerve endings, muscles and capillaries around me. That is my metaphor for how prayer works. I believe we are within God and God is within us. After a "close call" with the "Moonies" (a.k.a. Unification Church) during college, I came away believing that world religions are as much similar to each other as they are different. Al-anon gave me the Serenity Prayer, which has been like a mantra for me and has helped me to feel close to God. Over time, I have developed closeness with God. I am now comfortable with the name, "God" because I have redefined it within myself to be a source of comfort, inspiration and beauty.

Today, I imagine God's "body" or "entity" as the whole of the universe, infinite as it may be. I believe our bodies are God-given tools that eventually wear out. I believe our minds are potentially infinite, unlike the brains in which they reside. I believe it is in our mind that we experience our soul and the souls of others. I believe prayer and meditation are ways to seek communion with the soul of God. I believe we experience this core connection most deeply in our Psyche. I believe God is the dual nature of male and female. I believe we are born without Original Sin. I do not believe God can be pleased or angry. I do not believe God is a personality. I believe God simply is.

I believe that when we seek enlightenment, we choose the path for which we are best suited. I believe we are part of each other's journey as are all things in the universe. I believe that finding our own purpose requires us to "tune into" the core connection. I believe we learn "connectedness" from each other. I believe in celebrating the connection.
 

Ann Raible-Nicholson,  November 1998

I believe in the power of not believing. And in this implied contradiction, this oxymoronic state, I find both comfort and angst.

I believe in one God, in one supreme entity. And, yet, while holding this belief, I question how this could possibly be so. And if it is so, why and what it means.

I believe in my inability to comprehend the all-powerful, and find an ironic solace in the fact that it is not necessary for me to understand my God.

I believe the relationship with my God is a private matter, and unlike President Clinton, there is nothing ugly nor distasteful about this most personal and private liaison.

I believe that while my beliefs are very individualistic, it is important for me to be in a community of others who understand the power, beauty and responsibilities of free religion and free choice.

I believe that while I usually believe in a god, I often find my God is not directly involved in my life. I find myself wondering if it would be easier not to believe in a religion that is so open-ended.

I believe in the power of free choice and the necessity for people to take control of their destiny and responsibility for their actions. And, yet, while believing in our own ability to guide our lives, I sometimes find myself paralyzed to take any action. While espousing this lofty belief of free will, I know full well that inaction is often the easiest, but not necessarily the best choice.

I believe in the miracle of life, and in the necessity to live life to the fullest, to lead a moral and meaningful life, all the while knowing that sometimes just coping with the present moment is all I can bring myself to do.

I believe in the miracle of the family, in the bonding of husband and wife, in the unconditional love of a child. I believe and cherish a child's ability to be moved by the wonder of the world, and, yet, understand the need for a child's perfect world to at times be fractured, so that he or she may grow, mature and learn life's lessons.

I believe there is no life after death -- except in the memories of those who live on. I believe there is no heaven and no hell. And, yet, I believe it would be easier and more comforting to believe that by following certain steps, I would be ensured eternal salvation.

On the other hand, I believe that living life in pursuit of this eternal salvation falsely places the emphasis on what comes later, and misses both the triumphs and the trials of the here and now -- indeed, loses out on the meaning of life.

As a fourth generation Unitarian, I believe in the power of the Unitarian faith, in the pride of raising fifth generation Unitarians, and in the hope that others in this congregation will, if not completely understand them, at least accept and maybe even uphold my right to hold both these beliefs and disbeliefs.
 

George Johns,  January 1999

(Lighting Candle) May god shine a light into my heart, and through me to the world.

(Ringing Bell) And may I always be reminded to WAKE UP!

I perform this ritual, and say these words, every morning, during a period of prayer and meditation. And I believe in this ritual. I believe that lighting a candle and ringing a bell in quiet contemplation opens me, symbolically and actually, to God's purpose for me that day.

I meditate because I believe that the more I can quiet my clutching, craving, judging, "monkey mind" self, the more I can hear the God of my understanding.

I believe that the process of quieting self is painful, confronting, difficult, often thankless, work. For me it involves dredging up fears, pains, resentments, disappointments, conceits and hubris; acknowledging, cleaning up, and honoring them, just to let them go and move on, and discover a whole new layer to dredge up, acknowledge and release. Onward and onward, layer upon layer, the infinite onion; process, never perfection.

I call this process spiritual growth, I also call it "Waking Up." I believe that as I burrow through the onion, I get closer to God. Or more accurately, I allow God to get closer to me; so that his light can shine more brightly through me. I also believe that I need God, ritual, prayer, and a supportive community, to help me in this task.

Which is why I sometimes think this work would be so much easier if I were a fanatic. If only I could be a fundamentalist -- believe I was following the "one true way" -- I could pursue this work with single minded devotion and very little doubt. I'd have a clearly defined path, strong rituals, unquestioned leaders, and unwavering faith. Ahhh, wouldn't that make the onion so much easier to peel.

But I can't believe in any "one true way," because I believe that all paths, at least the ones with heart, are valid. No, more than that, I actually believe in all of the paths.

Take me to a Synagogue during Rosh Hashanah and I am humbled by the act of atonement before man and Yahweh.

Let me channel surf and come upon a Baptist preacher, and I say "AMEN!" to sermons about God made flesh who died for our sins.

In Egypt, I watched a Muslim prostrating during his five-times daily prayers and I marveled that "Islam" in Arabic means "surrender;" hmmm surrender to Allah and know ye, that your onion shall be peeled.

But let any of these guys start talking about the "one true way" and the damnation of the infidels----and watch me run for the door. Now don't get me wrong, tolerance of all faiths is wonderful and I wouldn't have it any other way. But in my experience, the spiritual smorgasbord is sometimes quite distracting from the onion peeling process.

Which brings me here, to this church and to this community. Just the other day, I was talking to my best friend and trying to articulate the conflict I feel between my desire for a passionate, focused faith and my all-embracing, anything goes acceptance of all paths. My friend said, "well, can't you be a fundamentalist Unitarian Universalist?" At first, I thought my friend had uttered the mother of all oxymorons.

But the more I have thought about the concept of a Fundamentalist UU, the more I've come to realize that maybe here is something new for me to believe in: passionate, focused, loving, open, supporting, onion peeling, Eliot, community. A place where I can light my candle and ring my bell.

(Blowing out candle) May god continue to shine a light into my heart, and through me to the world.

(Ringing Bell) And may I, and everyone I meet today, remember to Wake Up!
 

Bruce Mackenzie,  January 1999

You will remember the Ark? A little vessel (smaller than the Titanic anyway) hammered together with a little faith, and, according to some traditions, some of the wood from the Tree in Eden, wood which eventually finds its way to Calvary. According to the story, it preserves us - from drowning, from destruction, from the ravages. Now, while I would never for a minute claim my credo is so durable, so sea worthy, as the venerable old Ark, credos can keep us afloat. And this morning, for mnemonic purposes and for rhetorical purposes, please imagine my credo is an ark, spelled A. R. C. -- A: accept; R: remember; C: connect.

To Accept: This is, I think, my first religious impulse, my fundamental belief. An article of Faith. Acceptance of the world in all its physicality. Actually, I mean something stronger than 'accept'; I mean: Embrace, Praise, Celebrate. The fundamental response to life must be a 'Yes.' This may seem, to some of you, self-evident, but I must tell you that my earliest religious instruction taught me to see the material world, the physical world, as an illusion, as un-real, certainly nothing to celebrate, nothing to count as a blessing.) So this is where I must start -- a Hymn of Praise to All of Creation.

Praise all Creation: For me, underlying this hymn is my conviction of the oneness of all, the interconnectedness of all. And so, I seek and accept and want to celebrate both the Sacred And the Profane. As Walt Whitman says, "I find one side a balance and the antipodal side a balance. Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine."

Some years ago when we were in southern Mexico, we spent a day with a Mexican family in their small village to celebrate a fiesta in honor of the village's patron saint. In the morning, after breakfast, Geronimo, the father, led us to their church where they lit candles and said prayers; a few steps away in the village square music blared from tinny loudspeakers and there was ice cream and an amusing dance, and lots of rain and mud. Everything coming together, the sacred and the profane dance together. Though I did not light candles or say the prayers, that experience awakened me to what it means to accept, to praise, to celebrate.

To Remember: This is the second mast of the ark.
My favorite Commandment has become the Fourth: "Remember the Sabbath Day to keep it holy ... for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day; therefore, the Lord blessed the sabbath day and hallowed it "

It is the pivotal commandment knitting together the sacred and the secular, the divine and the human. And it alone commands us to Remember, remember blessed creation.

And I love Passover, a remembrance of salvation

and Thanksgiving, a remembrance of providence

and Memorial day

and all holidays

and anniversaries

and rituals, rites of passage, baptisms, marriages, funerals,

old sweaters and watches

and stories and art,

cities and monuments-which remind me of when I -- in one form or another -- was there.

As Wordsworth writes:

"Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind;

In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be."

To Connect: For me this is the whole point of the religious life - to sing together, to seek together, work together, walk together, celebrate together -- to somehow bind ourselves together. Connect. If only for a moment "to catch a glimpse that would make us less forlorn."

For me, the myths are true: we leave the Garden, leave the Golden Age, feel alone, grow coldly remote. We leave parents; parents leave us; children leave; friends leave.

A few weeks ago I attended a funeral service at Christ Church Cathedral, and, as we do on these occasions, began to think of life and death and meaning. When it came time to take communion, I did not. Why not is simple and complicated. The simple answer is -- I'm not in the habit; I feel awkward about it I'll skip the complicated justification and simply say I feel I should have. Holy Communion. The Holiness of Commun-ity. What a powerful symbol! What a powerful way to re- connect, for a moment.

One way or another, we seek re-connection -- to one another, to Creation. Acceptance, Praise, Celebration, Remembrance -- these help. We seek reunion. A handshake, a kiss, or holy communion -- these help. To stave off alone-ness. And keep the ark afloat.
 

Margie Freivogel,  February 1999

As a journalist, my normal mode of operation is to ask questions, so this little talk seemed a good discipline for focusing on what I believe rather than what I doubt.

But what I didn't realize when I signed up long ago for this particular Sunday is that it would come so shortly after the visit of the pope. I've just spent weeks immersed in information about this man's beliefs, which I don't often share, but which reflect deep spirituality, rigor and courage. And I'm newly aware of the Catholic faith, which speaks to the heart as well as the intellect, which is shared more or less by a billion people around the world, and which has survived pretty much intact for 2,000 years.

So it's with considerable humility that I offer some thoughts today about what I believe. They will be neither as succinct nor as eloquent as the Nicene Creed. Yet in some small way, they will address the same fundamental questions: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where are we going? What should we do along the way?

So here goes:
I believe that where we came from and where we're going are questions that matter. But what we do now matters more, because now is the only moment we ever have.

I believe even the smallest of these moments can have great consequence in the way we influence others. You may be familiar with chaos theory, which explains how a small event like the fluttering of a butterfly's wing can have huge and unpredictable ramifications. Well, this is a sort of chaos theory of spiritual influence.

I believe that we live forever in the legacy our many moments leave for future generations. They can suffer for our sins; they can benefit from our virtues.

I believe in the boundless potential of the human spirit when we are guided by integrity, courage, patience, humility and generosity. A pure heart is the surest way to a fruitful life. However, we must judge our choices not only by the purity of our intentions but by the consequences of our actions. So let's imagine that Ken Starr and Henry Hyde really ARE just motivated by deep reverence for constitutional process. It still would not be OK to drag the rest of us through all this.

I believe in our bottomless capacity for evil. Our original sin seems to be self-deception -- that is, the propensity to confuse what we want with what we ought to do. We're all afflicted, and it makes our other transgressions so much easier to tolerate. So imagine how much better it would have been if Bill Clinton had been honest with himself from the beginning and recognized that there would be no way to justify or excuse his self-indulgent behavior.

I believe that, on a higher plane, what we want IS often what we ought to do -- that the point of life is less transformation than discovery and enthusiastic employment of our talents and passions.

I believe that life can bring trouble upon trouble -- sometimes self-inflicted, but often undeserved. And life can bring joy upon joy -- moments of grace that we did not earn and could scarcely have imagined. But most of all, life brings chance after chance at redemption. In fact, we sometimes seem to face the same problem over again until we get it right. It's like the movie Groundhog Day, in which an obnoxious, big-city weatherman gets caught in a time loop in Punxatawney, Pa., and can't get out until he becomes a thoughtful person.

I believe that the toughest decisions are not between good and evil, but between choices that all seem flawed or murky. You know the feeling. You'd be glad to do the right thing if you could just figure out what it was. Great harm sometimes results from what we fail to understand or what we choose to ignore. But achieving good things does not require perfection -- indeed, it depends on our willingness to stumble and fail.

I believe the truth often lies in paradox. What lasts is ephemeral, like music or sunsets. What counts is unquantifiable -- like inspiration, commitment, the warmth of family and friends, love. Accepting these contradictions is the beginning of wisdom.

I believe that the wisest among us measure their lives not by the answers they find but by the questions they raise. The best questions began with the beginning of time. They must be asked moment by moment throughout our lives. And they will never finally be answered.
 

Bob Howard,  March 1999

I have no idea how you actually do what you do. But then I haven't any better idea how I do what I do either. It must be a miracle.

I suppose most of all I believe in miracles. Now I don't hold much stock In "marquee quality" miracles such as mysterious appearances of dead saints, or divine intervention in defiance of natural law to deliver God's chosen ones from certain tragedy.

The miracles that I do believe in are the everyday ones. How on earth do streams of words surface from our sub-conscious minds just when we need them? And even more puzzling, how do any of us manage to actually understand the babblings and scribblings of our fellows and act on them as if our lives depend on them? (which of course they do).

By what improbable sequence of miracles do we collectively find the intelligence to scrape out of the crust of the earth the necessary stuff to fashion into medicine, violas, pop tarts and Plymouth Voyagers? I have no idea how we can do this but I believe that our ability to do so is a sacred gift.

It seems to me that there exists some kind of adhesive that holds this enterprise together and makes it work, and it is in this sacred connecting force that I must place my trust. I believe that music and the other arts exist primarily to create images of this force and help us to learn to do what is right. The medieval theologian and music theorist Boethius wrote of three levels of music:

• Musica Instrumentalis is the music we perform which leads us to an understanding of:
• Musica Humana which is the music of the human body and spirit. Having gained some understanding of the the first two levels, we move toward understanding:
• Musica Mundana - the music of the spheres and our place In it.

I conclude with the words of Albert Einstein who wrote of our essential connectedness as follows:

"A human being is part of a whole, called by us the 'Universe,' a part limited in time and space." "He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest - a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness." "This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us." "Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."

All this I believe.
 

George Triplett,  March 1999

When I was a young man, I decided that I could no longer believe many of the tenets of the religion in which I was raised. I needed a belief system which fit in well with developing scientific knowledge: one which was not contradictory to my sense of fairness and equality. I also wanted a system of beliefs which could be adapted to new and changing perceptions about life. Arising out of this long-time effort is my credo: a belief system which is now the basis for who and what I am. It goes like this.

I believe that the manner in which the universe was formed is a mystery. However, mysteries have a way of becoming less mysterious with the passing of time. I look forward to further progress as new technologies develop and are used.

I believe the the manner in which the first life arose is still an unsolved mystery. I also believe that when the mystery of the creation of life is solved, it will mark another in a long list of mysteries which were once thought to be the result of some sort of divine intervention.

I believe that the present diversity of life, of which we are but one species, was developed through biological evolution. Biological evolution may be summarized briefly as a struggle for existence where only the fittest survive. I also believe that the diversity of life on earth is humanity's greatest natural heritage ... one which we are perilously close to throwing away.

I believe in love, in faith and in charity. Love is the greatest of the emotions. Without it there would be little happiness. The love of people, without prejudice, is one of my personal commandments. Faith gives us hope without which human society cannot function. Charity toward others makes life easier for many, and, if universal, would allow us all to live together in harmony.

I believe that emotion-based attributes like friendship, love and compassion are character attributes which people have in varying degrees. These are honorable attributes and stand in contrast to other attributes wuch as anger, violent tendencies, selfishness, and greed. I believe that the full range of emotional attributes was developed through the evolutionary process. That these attributes may be found in many other animals besides humans is a positive indication of kinship through a common ancestor.

I believe that all discussions of philosophy and religion can and should be judged on the basis of the foregoing.

I find it easy and comfortable to believe in these things without the trappings of either a personal God or a formal religion, with all that that implies.

If asked about the existence of God, I would say, "Yes, there is a God, or Gods. There have been many Gods through the ages. A listing of the Gods, from Apollo and Buddha through Jehovah and Zeus would include many names. They have always lived in the minds of those who believed in them. I can find no compelling evidence that they have ever lived anyplace else."
 

Jim Buchanan,  April 1999

My credo is a work in progress that is subject to change upon further enlightenment.

Sometime during my twenties I began to rebel against the fundamentalist Christianity of my youth, and a friend of ours, a rather free-spirited woman, suggested we try Eliot Chapel. Our first visit was on an Easter Sunday. There was no "real" church service. Instead, the congregation was treated to an excellent performance of Jesus Christ Superstar. I was blown away. In the next few weeks I discovered that we could smoke cigarettes, drink coffee, laugh, and clap right there in church. Dr. Smylie, our minister at Oak Hill Presbyterian Church, would not have approved. I loved it.

In time, this exercise in rebellion lost its charm and we sort of drifted away. Though I had rejected my prior beliefs, I had not replaced them with anything, and I felt a spiritual void. Then, a few years ago Mick and I came back to Eliot. Coincidentally, I had gone back to school to study behavioral sciences. Part of that experience included studies in world religions, biology, physics, philosophy, and literature, where I read Sir Francis Bacon's words, "Question everything. But above all, question those things you believe in the most." There is wisdom in that statement.

And, I believe the freedom to question is the greatest gift of Unitarian Universalism. By doing as Bacon suggested I began to build a new and, for me, very exciting and satisfying spirituality. Though the fundamentalists believe science tries to disprove the existence of "God," for me, it did the opposite.

Albert Einstein said, "There are two ways that one can look at life: You can believe that nothing is a miracle, or that everything is a miracle." I prefer the latter. When I ponder the incredible enormity of the universe and the fascinating diversity of life on this planet, I am astounded.

My favorite symbol is the Yin-Yang Symbol of Taoism. I have learned that order and chaos exist at once in the Universe, and that every cell of every living creature has a built-in mechanism called homeostasis which seeks to keep things in balance, and that this same balance is affected by the opposing forces in the natural world. To me this is proof that an intelligence with a plan exists in this world. I have never in my life been more certain that "God" exists but never less certain as to what "God" actually is.

I know many of my fellow Eliotarians are uncomfortable with the words God, prayer, faith, and worship. Until very recently, I was, too. But one day I had a mystical experience. All of a sudden everything made sense, but, typically for mystics, It was difficult to explain.

The best explanation I have is to say that I believe God is intelligence itself. The intelligence that exists in the universe is omniscient and omnipotent. No matter how humans manipulate it, its will will be done. Rather than a male anthropomorphical being, it is a power that is in a state of being and one that I can believe in. To me, God is not a he but an it, and - a fascinating mystery. Where did it come from? I have no idea. But science has proven to me that it exists. I have no problem worshipping this God, because I am truly in awe of it. I can have faith in it and pray to it because I know it is within all of the flora and fauna on this planet.

Knowing that it exists within me makes it easy for me to pray. One interpretation of Jesus' teachings on prayer says, "When you pray, go into your closet alone and pray silently to the Father who is within you." I believe Jesus' "Father" is that inexplicable intelligence I call God.

I believe most of the teachings of fundamentalism are metaphor for the underlying reality of this precious gift we all have been given - life. Much of what never made sense to me before is now understandable because I realize that this intelligence wants every organism to survive and thrive. It is logical, to me, that when we weaken ourselves by abusing our bodies or our minds, we become vulnerable to bacteria and viruses for they also have that intelligence within them, and it wants them to survive and thrive, also.

I believe this God brings us many human saviors: Jesus of Nazareth, Lao-Tzu, Siddhartha Gautama (The Buddha), Black Elk, Chief Seattle, Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Theresa, and others.

I believe that the existence of this God in all living things makes us all Interconnected. I believe that what we humans say to each other, what we do to and for each other, is consequential - more than we ever know.

Ted Perry, inspired by Chief Seattle, wrote: "This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family ... Whatever befalls the Earth, befalls the sons and daughters of the Earth. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself."

Thank you, Eliot Chapel. You are my spiritual home.
 

John Lewis,  April 1999

Hearing that I am a secular humanist will not surprise many of you, but it is not a very complete statement of my stand on religion. To state what I don't believe may be less important than telling what I do believe, but narrowing the discussion early helps understanding.

In the U-U handbook Rev. David Rankin quotes the Apostles' Creed, possibly the most widely accepted statement of Christian doctrine. It reads: "I believe in God the Father and in Christ Jesus, His only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, who was crucified under Pontius Pilate and was buried and the third day rose from the dead. Who ascended into heaven and sitteth on the right hand of the Father, whence he cometh to judge the living and the dead. And in the Holy Ghost, the holy Catholic church, the remission of sins, the resurrection of the flesh and life everlasting. Amen."

Rev. Rankin says that for the first fifteen years of his early life he recited it, but later could not "obediently repeat words and was beginning to refuse to conform." I had a similar experience, and consider that the creed has one bit of plausible history: that Christ was crucified. But the creed contains mostly unlikely myths and/or incomprehensible metaphors. Myths: "rose from the dead; resurrection of the flesh; life everlasting." Metaphors: "Born of the Holy Spirit; the remission of sins; sitteth on the right hand of the Father; judge the living and the dead."

I have to believe that most thinking people would share doubts with Rev. Rankin and me. In daily life they say and do things compatible with a song from my small town boyhood Presbyterian Sunday school. Many of you know and have sung it. It goes:

I would be true for there are those who trust me.

I would be pure for there are those who care.

I would be strong for there is much to suffer.

I would be brave for there is much to dare.

I would be friend to all, the foe, the friendless.

I would be giving and forget the gift.

I would be humble for I know my weakness.

I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.

When we sang this in our traditional church, probably no one realized that it had such an appropriate humanist text. Even though the song's title is "My Creed," it is not a complete credo. I suggest added lines:

I would be searching for I know not all the answers.

I would be open, for others may know more.

I would play and work and risk.

Searching, to be effective, must use the scientific method. In this context we are not concerned with the glitzy physical sciences, but rather the study of people and, at times, of other creatures. We should not ignore Jane Goodall and Dian Fossey as they study African apes. Above all, we should avoid the old teachings that man is naturally sinful, saved only by grace. This is too hopeless for some and too easy for others.

With all the seeming materialism that you may think this statement shows, recall the unison words of the U-U minister Ralph Helverson, in last week's order of service.

"We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient, self-sustaining, or self-derived; when we hold some hope beyond the present, some self-respect beyond our failures, when our hearts are capable of leaping up at beauty when our nerves are edged by some dream in the heart. We have religion when we have an abiding gratitude for all that we have received, when we look upon people with all their failings and still find in them good, when we look beyond people to the grandeur in nature and to the purpose in our own heart, when we have done all that we can, and then in confidence entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than ourselves."

I generally buy what Rev. Helverson says but wonder about that last phrase: "entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than ourselves." Is he getting theistic? I think of two very significant forces larger than myself. One is the vast universe, which in billions of years has developed fabulously complex mechanisms and organisms, including mankind. The other is love and caring of people. I've lived long enough to have seen much of this.

As a semanticist I don't want to call these things "God." That word has had a much different meaning over the centuries.
 

Steven Bain,  May 1999

COSMOLOGY

I believe it is important to try to fathom and to bear in mind immensity. I derive meaning from picturing earth from vast distances, galaxies away. This tells me about our importance and our lack of importance.

I derive meaning from the immensity of earth's age and the fascinating, slow parade of life on earth, of which our very young species is a part. I believe it is important to realize that our species' time on this planet is very likely limited, and that after our extinction the parade will march on, as fascinating without us as with us. I believe that the existence of a web of life is more important than the existence of any particular species.

I believe that in 2001 answers to questions about the origin of space and time are unknowable, and it is not necessary for me to make up answers or accept the ancients' answers to these questions; I am content with a mystery.

HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS

I believe that loving consists mostly of actions, not feelings; and that one of its primary markers is sacrifice. I learned that here. I believe that love is hardly ever common enough in a human life, because we humans are not born good at loving; but it is infinitely valuable, and therefore we should be very careful and reluctant to criticize any form of it.

I believe that every time I open my mouth I can make the world a better place or a worse one.

I wish that my children were more like me. I believe it is important to realize that elders have been saying this about juniors for thousands of years.

THE MEANING OF LIFE

To the extent that an individual human finds meaning, I believe that meaning to be created by the individual. Meanings are slippery and dependent on culture and context; and "life" is so complicated that it will never be possible to discern one meaning, or even a small set of meanings. To ask the question, "What is the meaning of life?" is to deny billions of answers.

On the other hand, I think we can easily deduce the purpose of life by observing life. The purpose of life is to foster life. This is observable in the ameba, whose only purpose is to consume nutrients and double itself; and in animals of more complex form which care for their young; and in flamingoes and giraffes and lionesses, which care for the offspring of other adults in the social group. Life's purpose can be observed in the behavior of us humans: our biological success-our survival-is now dependent on our willingness to care in various ways for unrelated, unknown others, in town and across the country and across the planet. Our survival is now dependent on our attention to the health of distant communities of animals and plants-the fostering of lives very different from our own. I believe that fostering life, as our circumstances allow, is our only purpose and our moral duty.

ORIGINAL SIN

We are not perfectly suited to our time and place-if we were, we would cope less well with new, changed conditions. Our flaws, therefore, are original, and necessary; our pain, as we bump up against our circumstances and our limitations, is original; and our mistakes, our wrongdoing, are therefore inevitable. I believe that to be human is to be flawed, to feel pain, to be a sinner. These are all unavoidable.

THE CHURCH AND RELIGION

I believe that religion and religious and moral truths evolve, and we should avoid believing in anything too absolutely, or risk being thought quaint or foolish 500 years from now, or harmful, like the perpetrators of Inquisition and jihad. I believe ideological openness and journeying-the expansion of any spiritual understanding-are more important and desirable than any particular belief. I am learning this hard lesson here.

I believe that a religion is a set of ideas about the highest and most important, ideas that a human can devote a part of self to, and from which we can derive comfort or a sense of place in the universe. I will not treat you to my ideas on the concept of God, or my ideas on my confusion about the concept of God, except that I believe it is important to denounce false gods, which I would define as ideas to which one can become devoted but which will never give a sense of place in the universe. The greatest of false gods is Mammon-money and the chase after it-but to this I would add the god Sport and the god Art and all other aspects of the great god Pleasure, which should only be worshipped (if at all) as part of a pantheon.

I believe it is important to praise, to offer thanksgiving, to do penance, to petition for grace, to ask forgiveness. You should call that prayer if calling it that aids you; I have enough trouble reminding myself to address my wife, my children, my mother, and my family at Eliot in these ways.

There are many things that are as important to me in my daily life as all this existence of God/meaning of life twaddle, but which are not religion. I think that because I am at Eliot, my journeys on all these paths will be easier and richer and better.

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