eliot logo

YOU SAY “TOMATO” AND I SAY “TOMAHTO”

A sermon preached for the congregation
at Eliot Unitarian Chapel in St. Louis, MO
By the The Reverend William Haney
Of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbia, MO
On October 24, 2004

THE READING

The reading is by the Reverend Robert Fulghum, from his book titled, UH-OH: Some Observations from Both Sides of the Refrigerator Door. Before becoming a popular author, Fulghum received a BA from Baylor University in 1958, and followed that with a ministerial degree from Starr King School for the Ministry in 1961, the same year as his Fellowship and Ordination into the Unitarian Universalist ministry. He served from 1964 to his retirement in 1985 our Unitarian Universalist churches in Bellevue, Shoreline and Edmonds, all in the state of Washington.

Here begins the reading.

On a long flight from Melbourne to Athens . . . I had a memorable late-night theological discussion [with an Indian professor of Hydrology] . . . . Hydrology is “the scientific study of the properties, distribution, and effects of water in the atmosphere, on the earth’s surface, and in soil and rocks.” [The Indian professor] had this printed on his business card since he always had to explain about hydrology. In sum, a water expert.

He noted that we had just left a country where people worshiped the sun - on the beach with most or all of their clothes removed. And we were flying over countries whose people believed it was the will of Allah that women should be completely covered, even on beaches. The names of God varied from country to country; the holy book was not the same; the rituals and dogmas and routes to heaven were not the same. And so certain were the followers of the different religions of their rectitude, they would gladly war with one another - kill each other - to have their beliefs and metaphors prevail. Yet in this same plane, flying peacefully along, are these same people.

Clearly this troubled the professor - grieved him.

He shook his head and asked why this must be so. Why? Why?

The professor pointed out the Indian Ocean beneath us at the moment.

He spoke of water, his specialty.

“Water is everywhere and in all living things - we cannot be separated from water. No water, no life. Period. Water comes in many forms - liquid, vapor, ice, snow, fog, rain, hail. But no matter the form, it’s still water.

“Human beings give this stuff many names in many languages, in all its forms. It’s crazy to argue over what its true name is. Call it what you will, there is no difference to the water. It is what it is . . . .”

As it is with water, so it is with God. “I don’t know much about God,” said the professor of hydrology. “All I know is water. And that we are momentary waves in some great everlasting ocean, and the waves and the water are one.” He poured us each a paper cup full of water and we drank.

Here ends the reading.

THE SERMON

I believe it was George Bernard Shaw who once said that America and England are two countries separated by a common language. “You say ‘tomato’ and I say ‘tomahto.’” Of course, English is not a language even though it has rules of structure - it is an accumulation of various languages merged into an impossible phonetic catastrophe. Take the word “phonetic” itself: why isn’t it spelled the way it sounds? Things don’t get better with usage on either - “You say ‘either’ I say ‘eyther’” - side of the Atlantic. With the advent of the car in this country as our main transportation system, we drive on parkways and park on driveways. Someone once quipped, “Why talk baby talk to an infant when plain English is tough enough for the poor kid to understand?” Yet, the language itself aside, if one doesn’t have clarity of thought, there is no telling how the avenues of communication will be cluttered with confusion. Here are some examples proclaimed to be actual quotes:

  • You buttered your bread, no sleep on it.
  • Now let’s get down to brass facts.
  • Down deep that guy is really very shallow.
  • We have only one person to blame and that’s each other.
  • That’s one of her strong weaknesses.
  • We can’t help but fail to win out on that one.
  • It’s time to take the bull by the tail and look the situation in the face.
  • We’ve got to get this discussion back on the tangent.
  • Once again, you fail to miss the point!

Granted even as these are misquotes of various clichés, it does show how relying upon stereotypes can be so dangerous. These poor words do not go unnoticed if the lack of clarity or a deliberate intention offers a distorted view of reality. These poor words of common conversation used in such poor combination dishonors a use of language. There is an honor to words when properly used, when they are gifts of clarity and relationship. Rainer Maria Rilke, in his poem titled “The Poor Words,” lifts them up to a place of esteem;

The poor words, who starve in the everyday,
The unnoticed words - I love them so.
I give them colors from my festivals,
And they smile and grow slowly glad.

Their essence, which they fearfully withheld,
Regains its clear form, that all may see;
They’ve never entered the singing before,
And they step with awe into my song.

Those unnoticed everyday words are the stuff of dreams and poems. Were it so simple as that. “You say ‘tomato’ and I say ‘tomahto’”

The power of words did not escape the attention of the ancients. In the second Chapter of Genesis, Adam has the power to name. As the text says:

. . . And the LORD God formed out of the earth all the wild beasts and all the birds of the sky, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that would be its name (Gen 2:19).

To name is to control. That is why the ancient Israelites did not mention the name of God, for to name God is to control God - or to think one can control the trans-rational mystery beyond one’s self. Today, when we are often confronted with confounding confusion and lack of clarity in our individual lives, we seek the same process as did Adam. We find if we can name whatever it is that befuddles us, we can come to grips with it. And, truly, we can, and do such a thing to great advantage. Naming is an important part of understanding. Yet do we understand each other with our naming? “You say ‘tomato’ and I say ‘tomahto.’”

The Reading by the Reverend Robert Fulghum stretches us to the irony of naming and living together. As the hydrology professor speaks to the varied names of God, Fulghum relates that

. . . so certain were the followers of the different religions of their rectitude, they would gladly war with one another - kill each other - to have their beliefs and metaphors prevail. Yet in this same plane, flying peacefully along, are these same people. Clearly this troubled the professor - grieved him.

Implied in this irony is the hope and trust symbolized by the gathering of people on the airplane. Since the writing of Fulghum’s book, as we were reminded last month, the commercial airplane took on a new metaphor, one that has grieved all of us.

The metaphor by the hydrology professor of water being the universal value beyond its mere name is the core of the issue. What we call that universal value means nothing to it, be it water or the divine. As the hydrology professor says;

Human beings give this stuff many names in many languages, in all its forms. It’s crazy to argue over what its true name is. Call it what you will, there is no difference to the water. It is what it is . . . .

“As it is with water, so it is with God,” Fulghum adds. The professor’s plea is to understand that which binds us together. The names can and will separate us. There is a universal value as an expression of the human condition behind the name. It is that universal value which is the hope, is the salvation from destroying each other in the worship of the name rather than the value. He uses another metaphor when he continues his conversation with Fulghum;

Human beings drink water from many vessels - cups, glasses, jugs, skins, their own hands, whatever. To argue about which container is proper for the water is crazy. The container doesn’t change the water.

Some like it hot, some like it cold, some like it iced, some fizzy, some with stuff mixed in with it - alcohol, coffee, whatever. No matter. It does not change the nature of water.

Never mind the name or the cup or the mix. These are not important.

What we have in common is thirst. Thirst!

Thirst for the water of Life!

Thirst is the universal value as an expression of the human condition that prevails in all times and all cultures, regardless of language, regardless of naming.

When I was a seminary student at Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley, I attended classes in other seminaries in the consortium. My introduction to Process Theology was with the Franciscans; church history with the Episcopalians; Hebrew Bible with the Franciscans; Christian Scriptures with the American Baptists; pastoral counseling with the Dominicans and Jesuits; and the messianic impulse in Judaism and the Talmud with a rabbi. In no case did I find my values at odds with the professors or the vast majority of students in each of the classes. What I did find was the obvious difference in language, in the naming of those values. Whether the language was tradition centered or Christ centered or Torah centered, these were metaphors and symbols to express the inexpressible, to reach for the name of the unnamable. The core values imbedded in our common culture that expresses the human condition are standing behind the words, behind the naming. “What we have in common is thirst. Thirst! Thirst for the water of Life!” says the professor. And that “water” has many names.

What troubled the professor, what grieved him, may be similar to what grieves many of us today. Our current political and social environment is so polarized, there appears to be no hope of reconciliation. There is a clear division in the nation. Monologues to a power base replace dialogue. Code words block possibilities of transforming conversation. Bumper stickers dumb down complex ideals. In these last days of the campaigns, the rhetoric ratchets up the misuse of words. Meaning is replaced by impression. Values are replaced with ideologies. Fear mongers are deviously twisting words on each side in order to elevate the fear factor. We seem to have forgotten what Franklin Delano Roosevelt once counseled; “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Since 9/11, fear has been a commodity in our social and political environment. What kind of face and name do we put to our fears? For nearly fifty years, that face was the Soviet Union, or at least the leaders of that empire. But now that face has disappeared. Hidden from view is a new face intent upon doing us harm. That face began to show itself in 1972 against the Israeli Olympic team in Munich. Not until the early 90s did it begin to sink in that there are groups of people serious about doing us harm. Then three years ago we experienced the chilling and traumatic realization that harm can come to us. How do we respond? Just who is the enemy? How do we name the enemy? How do we put a face to the enemy? This incomprehensible ambiguity leads to striking out in directions that are open to question and argument on both sides. The level of fear permeates our actions and responses to actions.

I believe fear is an elephant in our national living room. That elephant is the unacknowledged harm we as a nation has done, either deliberately for diplomatic expediency, or inadvertently due to ignorance and diplomatic ineptitude in the affairs of the Middle East. Of course, there are those who will argue we’ve done no such thing. From that position, nobody wants to talk about our fears. Out of those fears of knowing the truth, whatever that may be, no one wants to ask the hard questions. If the questions arise, rather than a dialogue to reach an understanding, the sides become defensive or engage in conversion activities. The name that is given is more important than the value behind the name. So, what is named a “pre-emptive strike” is launched. The outcome is we are polarized as to whether this action is one of strong leadership or of misplaced agendas.

In the course of the Presidential campaign I’ve attempted to divest myself from the pull of the misuse of words and try to get behind them to the values. I do this from a religious, spiritual and ethical standpoint - or at least try to. Those values are rooted for me in the ancient prophetic tradition - opposing suffering, oppression and injustice. These values link me to other religious traditions, even though we may use different words. In the course of my contemplations, I’ve run across two sources that aid in giving me some insight into the morass of misused words.

One is by Harvard economist Benjamin Friedman. He did an assessment of the Bush and Kerry economic plans. In his assessment, he went behind the actions of the Administration and the words of Kerry to ascertain their values. His presentation was in the form of allowing one to make a choice between the two. For the Bush Administration, the actual and proposed tax policy expresses an ethic opposite of Kerry’s. The ethic of the Administration is on saving. The intention of the tax policy is to eliminate taxation on savings and investment incomes. No tax is the incentive to save. The ethic of Kerry is on work. His proposed policy is to relieve the worker from excessive tax burden. In oversimplified terms, the one policy will tax only workers, the other will tax incomes from savings and investments. In Friedman’s terms, the choice is between an ethic of saving and an ethic of work. This is one aspect of our politically polarized environment in the nation.

Another moment of insight came to me from an article by the senior syndicated columnist David Broder. He offers our current polarization has historical roots. With the Baby Boomers in leadership roles now, the social and political environment is a continuation of the 1960s. Sides were drawn then over civil rights, Viet Nam and counterculture values. The line was drawn, according to Broder, by Marilyn Quale in the 1992 Presidential campaign. She delineated herself and her husband from the “other counterculture” Boomers. The political capital recently spent on each side attempting to disqualify each current Presidential candidate because of their actions over 30 years ago exemplifies that lingering painful process. This generation has never achieved reconciliation. This is one of the elephants in our national living room. Clearly, differing values will continue to feed the frenzy of polarization. To understand we do have differing values is important. The issue is to maintain those values while in open dialog and conversation with those who share differing values. Our current polarization prevents such a thing happening.

I have no solution to this impasse. A political election will not be enough. Too often the election process produces more heat than light, as is this one. All I can do is hope in some way there are openings to possibilities of understanding and reconciliation. Even then, the outcome is not a solution, but at least we can begin to improve the odds. I do have to say the hydrology professor’s argument is incomplete. Granted, water and God, however God is understood, may not care how each is named. The consciousness of water is absent; that of God is a theological debate never finished. But people do have consciousness, and in naming they do care. They care a lot, or they wouldn’t care to name at all. So, how do we name in differing ways and remain in authentic relationship with each other? If you say “tomato” and I say “tomahto,” should that really mean all that much in our relationship? Should we follow the title to the song, Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off? What are we valuing the most: the name or the reality and essence of the tomato, or the continuation of a meaningful relationship between us?

I don’t mean to diminish the value of naming. To argue that names are insignificant is to smooth out obvious differences and self differentiation. The door would then be open for the elephant to remain. I believe we as Unitarian Universalists hold one key to this dilemma. As a community of faith, we bind ourselves together not by dogma or doctrine, in other words by names, but rather by covenant. Our search is not only for individual religious, spiritual and ethical values, but also a search for creating a healthy community out of diversity rather than conformity. In our diversity, we promise each other we will honor those values we each hold to be supreme, divine, ultimate and eternal, regardless of what we name them. It is in covenant we support each other as we struggle and search for the naming of the unnamable. This requires a candor and honesty within each of us and among us. It also requires the church to provide the venue for such open dialogue and discovery. I believe that is what church is for: to support as well as to challenge. Otherwise polarization seeps into the interstices of church life and we find ourselves worshipping names and not values. As the hydrology professor says;

The names of God varied from country to country; the holy book was not the same; the rituals and dogmas and routes to heaven were not the same . . . . I don’t know much about God . . . . All I know is water. And that we are momentary waves in some great everlasting ocean, and the waves and the water are one.

“Unity” and “universal” are the roots to our institutional naming. In a time when deconstructionism and so-called Post-modernism is challenging any conception of the universal, the reality for me is that regardless of naming, the human condition remains unchanged through the ages. The genius of our religious tradition is in seeing that diversity and specificity can and does indeed reside in unity and the universal. Our challenge is to live out that insight, to show the world there is transforming hope. In the midst of a polarized nation, may we seek the values that reside behind the names. May our effort to live our covenant of forming community out of diversity become a beacon to the world.

Amen.