Sermons

As a Tool of the Sacred
3-15-09
Rev. Douglas Taylor

Have you ever tried to give money away? There are so many ways to do so, but I’m thinking particularly about the people who will secretly ‘play Santa’ around Christmas time by randomly handing a stranger a hundred bucks. I’m thinking about people who pay for the next three people in line behind them at the coffee stand or who slip a twenty under a random door at an apartment building. Random givers fascinate me. I understand the urge to give money to a homeless person on the street or to a charity that has mailed you a letter. Certainly giving gifts to loved ones makes sense. It is the urge to give money to the random stranger that interests me. Have you ever done it?

A few years back in The Sun Magazine there was a story about a young man, Poe Ballantine, who had developed a unique practice of giving money away. (September 2006, “God’s Day” by Poe Ballantine) He created for himself a holiday that included prayer, fasting, repentance, and the like. But it had no consumerism or Hallmark cards. He called it “God’s Day.” One aspect of “God’s Day” involved giving money away. “I always throw money away on God’s Day,” the author wrote, “walk with a twenty-dollar bill into the darkness and leave it somewhere.” Some year’s he will drop it over the fence of a house in disrepair or tuck it into the slates of a bench frequented by winos. Other times he will leave it in a particular book at the library like Charlie and Chocolate Factory. He experienced trouble the year he left it in the path of a particular homeless man, the year he shifted away from the fully random and tried to give to a particular person. The author watched as the homeless man walked past the twenty-dollar bill several times ignoring it. The young man had trouble sleeping that night, knowing the twenty was out there unclaimed.

In the morning he went by and saw it “still there,” he wrote, “bold and flagrant as a whore waving a handkerchief at a train.” He talked himself out of claiming it for himself (Oh, look, $20!). He almost blurted out the story to a neighbor who was complaining about a shortage of cash, but to do so felt wrong according to the rules he’d set up for “God’s Day.” It had to be found, not given. So it sat there half under a stone for four days untouched. He finally gave up a rescued the bill when it started snowing. It was day or two later that he eventually disposed of it in a church’s poor box, bringing the young man’s weeks-long “God’s Day” to an uneasy conclusion.

Why do people give money away like this? Most of us give money away as a form of supporting a relationship. There is often a connection between the giver and the receiver. Even when giving is anonymous, there is some connection: The young man in the story really wanted the twenty dollars to go to that particular homeless man and felt unsatisfied when he ended up giving the money to a church’s poor box where the money might go to help people such as the homeless man. The young man who authored this story has deep ambivalence about money and about faith.

Certainly the vast majority of Americans are ambivalent about money, and mixing money and faith is tricky. Colleague Dan Hotchkiss writes: “Money is a medium through which we act and are acted upon. A spiritual life that does not concern itself with money can have little effect on our daily lives.” (from Ministry and Money, p46) Both money and faith are seen as private. It is considered rude to probe too deeply into the faith or the finances of a friend. And even when there are natural points of connection between money and faith such as a congregation’s annual pledge drive, the conversations that arise are tricky.

For kicks, I went back to another sermon I delivered last year on a private and tricky subject: sex (Sex and Spirit, 5-4-08). I wanted to see if I could find a sentence about sex and spirit in which I could swap in the word “money.” Here is what I found: “[Money], when released of its shackles and allowed to be sacred, is natural, joyful, and beautiful – and indeed can be a path to grace, empowerment, and wholeness.” We keep bumping into the guilty section of our minds that tell us this or that is bad or dirty. Money is no more the root of evil then sex. Each, when viewed through the lens of faith, opens us up to the fullness of life. And yet we are constantly pushed to view both sex and money as things that are tainted, negative, something we must distance ourselves from if we are to live truly spiritual and blessed lives. But really it’s all in the way that we use it. The quote from the biblical letter from Timothy says that the love of money is the root of all evil. As one money-guru wrote, “Money itself isn’t our problem. Money itself isn’t bad of good. It is our interpretation of money, our interaction with it, where the real mischief is and where we find the real opportunity for self-discovery and personal transformation.” (from The Soul of Money, by Lynne Twist)

The problem is in the way that we use it. When I get anxious I hold tight to money, squeezing it with miserly fervor. But it isn’t long before I slip into the more normal state for me: denial. When I’m like this I’ll throw it around like I don’t care about it, like I don’t respect it, like I’m trying to get rid of it. Surely a healthy relationship with money is found between these two extremes. At my best I use my money to communicate to the world my values. At my best I use my money to bear witness to my values. At my best I let my faith make demands of my money.

From the first, this was the intent of money. Back when people used shells and stone disks, cattle, salt and feathers to do the work of money, what they were doing was using the tangible things to mark the divine meaning that actually happened in any transaction. Money began as a metaphor of divine valuation. The shells and stone disks did not matter; they merely represented the deeper reality. According to sociologists, early cultures needed these representatives of divine value “to bestow prestige, settle psychic or material debts, or placate enemies and so on.” (from Webster Kitchell Howell’s “Money” in The Abundance of Our Faith, p119) Over time, the tangible metaphors needed to hold common recognizable value across various cultures. And today we have metal coins and cloth bills which are steadily giving way to plastic cards.

What if we still used money with this original intent? As you handed coins and bills over to the cashier to buy a meal or as you swiped your debit card to purchase an outfit, can you imagine it as ‘divine communication’? As an expression of your deep values? Probably not. Most of the time when I use money it is for utterly mundane purposes. I actually tried to think like this over the past few weeks. Whenever I wrote a check to pay a bill or buy groceries, I thought: “divine communication – what am I saying about my values?” I would say to myself, “This is a sacred transaction.” Most of the time, it felt very silly. Our lives are so saturated with money that the use of it has grown meaningless.

Other times I would catch a hint of what I thought I should be finding. The check I write to pay for college classes or ice skating lessons for my children: I know that I am using my money to say something important. I am saying something to the teachers and to my children, and to myself. I am investing my money in my children as a demonstration of my values. When I paid for my membership to NPR or wrote a check toward my pledge to this congregation – it is easy to see that I am using my money to demonstrate my values. But when I actually had that thought in mind as I wrote the check it felt different. So I’m standing in the grocery store check-out about to swipe my card and I think, “This is a sacred transaction.” I have found that it really does sharpen the impact of your choices when you think of money this way.

Poet and Playwright Henrik Ibsen said, “Money may be the husk of many things but not the kernel. It brings you food, but not appetite; medicine, but not health; acquaintances, but not friends; servants, but not loyalty; days of joy, but not peace or happiness.” Money is just a tool. What you do with it is the question worth asking. With the current economic troubles in the world, many people are prioritizing their spending. They are thinking about where there money goes more than they were in previous years. People are paying attention. I can only see that as a good thing for people. I believe we will discover this attention to priorities to have a positive impact on the congregation and on each of us individually. We may not end up with more money, but I think we will come through with a clear sense of financial priorities.

If you are new to this congregation or visiting, this may be the point when you zone out. I’ve given you plenty to think about for your own spiritual growth; now I’m going to talk about funding for the congregation. But, then again, perhaps if you are new or visiting it will interest you to hear that the annual stewardship campaign is an integral part of this congregation. Not because we need funding to meet a budget goal. No. This conversation is integral because of the way we are a faith community together. Every aspect of this congregation is in the hands of the members.

Last year I spoke about how different cultures and different faiths manage the work of funding their institutions. I didn’t script that sermon so I only have my memory. I suppose I could have watched the video recording, but I hate watching those. Anyway, my memory is that I spoke about the mandatory 10% religion tax that the German government collects to fund religious institutions. I spoke about the ‘orange aisle’ in the Thailand grocery stores so you would know what you can give to the begging monks in orange that come by your back door each day. I used a version of the quote, “democracy is the worst form of government except for all others,” saying that our pledge drive process is the worst way of funding a religious institution except for all the others. The institutional element of our congregation is the mere framework needed to hold the vibrancy at the heart of our congregation. The best part of this congregation has nothing to do with our financial records and is nowhere to be found on our budget sheets. The best part of our congregation in the care we give each other, the warmth we share. Our Small Group Ministry, our Social Justice work, our fellowship events, our Sunday school teachers, our potlucks, our forums and workshops – these cost us practically nothing in themselves. Yet they are created and supported by the institution that exists only because each year we fund it. And then, all the worship, the music, the Sunday School Curriculum, the staff – these are essential pieces that are exactly what we fund when we create our annual budget.

Budgets are moral documents. Each year this congregation makes choices about what it will fund and what it will not fund. Our budget is a reflection of our values and for the few years that I have been here I must tell you I have been proud of this congregation and of the choices we have made. I know that every year we begin our campaign with moderate to high hopes and a plan for fund our mission a few steps further than we currently are. And every year, so far, we have had to fall back from that plan, reformulate and create a budget that can still meet the needs and expand our mission in some ways. We give ourselves a hard time about that. Yet while it is always a little painful to do that, I tell you I am proud of us. Every year we demonstrate to our staff that we value them. We pay the staff of this congregation a decent wage recognizing the regular cost of living increases. Every year we fund our fair share support to our district and the association, which doesn’t sound exciting – but it is a big deal. And every year we fund the programming goals a little bit more. You should be proud of the budget you help shape each year. In June when it is time to vote on the budget I want you to look at it and say, “We created that. It is a sacred transaction, a divine communication of our values as a people.” Barack Obama, speaking recently about budgets and spending, said a budget is the “intersection of reflection and action” where “your good intention meets your respectful action” and “demonstrates how you are with others.”

I want to share with you a story I heard over the summer. (Rev. Alison Cornish told this story at UULTI 2008) There was a Unitarian Universalist congregation that launched a capital campaign – a major fundraising effort – that asked members to make a pledge that would be paid over several years. There was one member, an older woman, who was in a quandary. She wanted to support her congregation’s efforts, but she had few assets. She was retired, and lived on a small pension. Though her income was small, so were her needs and expenses. Problem was, there just wasn’t much left over for the church. She studied all her expenses, trying to decide what she might be able to do … and then she saw it. Every Friday, for most of her adult life, she had had her hair done at the beauty parlor. Just a trim and set – nothing fancy. It was her small luxury – her gift to herself. But after much thought – and no little anguish – she decided that, for now, she would care for her hair herself, and pledge the money she would have spent each Friday to the church. And so she did, letting her hair grow for the years of the capital campaign. No one had ever seen her with long hair, and they admired her new look when it grew in full and white and silky. The old woman actually enjoyed trying it in different styles, twisting it this way, curling it like that.

At the end of the campaign, she headed straight to her beauty parlor to have her hair cut in its old style again. When her hairdresser saw the woman’s long, beautiful hair, she tried to convince her to keep it – she told the old woman how lovely she looked. “No,” she said, “it was a nice change, but I’m ready to be my old self again. Cut it off.” But the hairdresser had still another idea – did the woman know that she could donate her hair to make a wig for someone going through chemotherapy, someone who had lost her own hair? Would she be willing to donate her long, white hair? The woman caught her breath – she had never thought of her hair as something someone else would want – or as something she could give away. And so she said yes. And after having her hair cut in its usual style, she walked out of the salon, and didn’t return again until her hair was once again long enough to donate for a wig for someone recovering from cancer.

May each of us here discover again and again the ways in which we can offer the sacred gifts that are ours to give. May we see that our money can be a tool of the sacred, communicating our values and our care to the world.

In a world without end
May it be so

Last Lecture (or Sermon)
Rev. Douglas Taylor
3-1-09

Part One: Exposition of the Theme

About a year and a half ago, Computer Science Professor and Unitarian Universalist Randy Pausch delivered his “Last Lecture” as part of the Carnegie Mellon “Last Lecture Series.” Respected academics are asked to reflect on their lives, to consider what matters most to them, and then to deliver a ‘final discourse,’ a Last Lecture. The concept was: If you had one last lecture to give before you died, what wisdom would you offer your students and colleagues? They re-titled the series “Journeys” but Randy brought the old name back and poignantly brought back that original concept. Randy had been diagnosed with cancer earlier that year and had months left to live. It really was his ‘last’ lecture.

Unitarian Universalist minister Forrest Church had developed esophageal cancer in 2006 and was given months to live. Church delivered his ‘Last Sermon’ and was blessed to offer reprise and encore sermons as his cancer went into remission. He retired from the position of Senior Minister at All Souls in New York City, and became their Minister of Public Theology. Now every time he enters the pulpit, which has been only a handful of times over the past year, every time is his ‘Last Sermon.’ For decades Forrest Church has been saying. “Religion is our human response to the dual reality of being alive and having to die.” That has been the Forrest Church quote, and now, now he not only says it – he lives it.

From time to time ministers and professors take up this hypothetical topic, occasionally it really is the last time. Country songs, bluegrass and old-timey music will venture into this realm as well. There has been a song on the radio “Someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying.” The song tells of skydiving and bull riding, offering forgiveness and watching an eagle soar. There is a movie called “The Bucket List” that was quite good. The concept was based on the college assignment: make a list of things you want to do before you die, before you kick the bucket. What would you do? What advice would you impart to others? And if you were offered a chance to tell others about living and dying, what would you say?

I will answer the question myself, but I will also open our time up for any of you to offer your answer.

Part Two: My Last Sermon

If I were really facing one last chance to say something wise and important for you (and anyone who might find this talk later), I suppose it would center on this: Life is too serious to be taken so seriously. I once quipped at a minister’s meeting, “If we’re not having fun, why are we doing it?” In response, one of my colleagues suggested that this was surely my motto for ministry and for life. I’ve considered that. I’d meant it only as a joke, a flip response to whatever was under discussion at that moment; but in a way, Yes, that is my motto. If we’re not having fun, why are we doing it? Well, there could be many very good and important reasons to do something that is not fun. I’m not suggesting we stop doing things that are not fun, there are important things to do which we do because they must get done – not because they are fun. But then, couldn’t we add a little fun into it? I’m not recommending a personal hedonism to trump all else – simply the question: can we add some joy to the task? Can we have some light?

The light we can bring to the difficulties that surround is so valuable a contribution. My call for enjoyment amidst the travails of life is not simply caviler banter. Joy is a powerful agent for spiritual growth; and our capacity for joy is a sign of faith and maturity – both to find joy for ourselves and to offer joy to others. The rotten things in life do threaten to overwhelm; the news is filled with violence and fear, our lives are beset with loss and struggle. And yet there is beauty, and yet there is love. There is laughter and friendship and hope. We are more powerful and resilient then we usually give ourselves credit. And, interestingly, I suspect the root of this sort of strength and power lies not in having something or holding on to something. Instead this strength comes from learning to let go, from learning to open up and be vulnerable. This power and joy is borne of a certain form of forgiveness.

Recently during a conversation, someone commented that I was a forgiving person. I brushed the compliment off saying it came with the territory of being a minister. But in fairness, several people over the years have pointed out to me that I have a non-judgmental and forgiving character. I prefer to see it as being realistic. I feel it is important to have reasonable expectations of myself and others, and to balance those expectations with an appreciation that we are all bound to fail and make mistakes. Another friend once said, to make the point that I was the most non-judgmental person he knew, that if he ever ended up in prison he knew he could call me and I would not think less of him. And to flesh out the story, this friend is about the last person I would ever expect to end up in prison. I suppose I think of it theologically. As a Universalist I believe we are all loved and the power of that love is stronger than any mistakes we can make. This is a really good thing because we all make mistakes: big ones, little ones. We do it all the time.

This past week as we were beginning the Spirit of Life class I was trying to light the chalice. I was having trouble getting the candle to stay lit. After fumbling a few times, a good flame finally took. The next activity was to go around the circle and each say our name and identify a source of joy. Well, the first thought that came to my mind as I began this (my mind still on the fumbled candle lighting) was to say ‘I find joy in my mistakes.’ But that is not what I said out loud. For the group I named my children as a source of joy. This is certainly true (no mistake!); yet my first answer, though flip, holds a creative truth as well.

The mistakes you make count far less than the way you handle them. Do you wallow in them, do you let yourself be defeated by them, do you use them as an excuse to give up? Or you do get back up and begin again? Can you learn from your mistakes? If not, why bother having any! I think mistakes are valuable experiences. They remind us that we are not perfect.

The point of life is not to be perfect, it is not to be whole; the point is to shine your light through your brokenness. I offered a whole sermon on this point at the beginning of the year, but it bears repeating. Ease up, be more forgiving. And start with yourself. That part of the Great Commandment when it says to love your neighbor as yourself implies that must start with yourself. Your own mistakes, your own faults, sins, and failings, these are the cracks through which your compassion can shine. Be forgiving of yourself and begin to see a joy in your mistakes. They happen, you might as well enjoy them, learn from them, grow because of them. Be forgiving of yourself and begin to see how you can be forgiving of others. Begin to see the joy in other’s mistakes because you can take joy in your own. Some people take a perverse joy in the mistakes of others because it helps them to deny and disguise their own mistakes. I counsel the opposite: learn to laugh at your own broken self that you may help others learn to see and enjoy the same in themselves.

Now, the flip side of this is to not spend a lot of your time and energy on the negative things in life. What you pay attention to shapes your outlook of life. Pay attention to the good stuff, not dwelling on your mistakes. I’m not suggesting you spend a lot of time thinking about your mistakes. Instead, when you are faced with your faults and failures, find a way to learn from them, to forgive yourself of them, or to grow beyond them. Don’t dwell on them. Pay more attention to the good things in your life, seek out the good in yourself and in others. Pay more attention to the joy and the light.

So, there you go, that is my message: joy and forgiveness. Oh, also: tell your loved ones that you love them, use your life to bless others, and everyone should wear more purple.

In a world without end, may it be so

Creation Unfolding
Rev. Douglas Taylor
2-8-09

The part that really caught my attention was the idea that evolution is not a meaningless, blind process driven by chance and random happenstance. Because I was sitting in the room listening for the connections that where promised and that was one of them. The topic was ‘The Marriage of Science and Religion.” The speaker was Michael Dowd. He spoke here last summer. And one of the points of connection he offered around the marriage of science and religion was that evolution is not a meaningless, blind process driven by chance and random happenstance; which flies in the face of our conventional understanding of evolution.

Religion is the arena of meaning and the purposefulness of existence. Religion offers us why while science sticks to the realm of how. Right? Science asking questions of what and how, religion asking questions of why and what for; together they lead us into deeper understanding of nature and human nature.  Most of the work of bringing them together lies in not confusing them. Don’t look to religion to find out how old the earth is or how to cure disease. Don’t ask science to explain suffering or hope or the mystery of existence.  Science and religion are two tools for discovering truth. But they are used for different kinds of truth. If you want to cut a piece of wood, the tool you choose should not be a fishing net. If you want to write a love letter, don’t use a hammer. Different tools accomplish different tasks. Science and religion are two tools for discovering truth, best not mix them up. Right?

So, when someone comes along suggesting we not exactly mix them up so much as to mix them together, well it peaks the interest.

The part that really caught my attention, as I said, was this notion of directionality – that evolution holds an implication of purpose. All along, Darwin and other scientists have claimed evolution rests on random chance of mutation to make the next step. Science offered no concept that the change that has occurred through the random mutation could be considered progressive, that there is a direction. It has always been religion that says life is the way it is on purpose and is moving forward according to plan. God had this plan and created the tongue of the anteater to fit down the ant hill, the beak of the hummingbird to fit into the depths of the flower, the slight S curve of the human spine to facilitate an upright position, the hollow bones of a bird to aid in flight. It’s all part of the plan, part of the design. And then along comes Darwin debunking ‘design.’

His theory of Natural Selection describes the mechanism for adaptation among species. Darwin’s grand contribution to science and the theory of evolution is the articulation of the process of natural selection. And what are selected are mutations that happen randomly; by definition, mutations are accidents. Life evolves by accident, evolutionary science tells us. Yet religion offers a plan for life. Choose between the two, you can’t have both. Either it is by plan as Religion tells us, or by happenstance as science offers. Choose.

Into this milieu comes the foray of Michael Dowd and others who choose a third path. In his recent book Thank God for Evolution, Dowd writes this about randomness vs. directionality:

“Stephen Jay Gould popularized an understanding of evolution that focused on the roll of randomness and chance. “Rewind the tape” of evolution, he would say, and imagine the whole process unfolding from the start once again: everything would be different. At one level, this interpretation is indisputably true: the species would surely be different: there would be no white oak, no gray whale, no emu. But at another level, the level that matters most to me and surely many others, the central issue is whether there would be eyes to see, whether there would be trees reaching into the sky, whether there would be creatures scampering on land, flying through the air, and perhaps swimming in the sea but needing to surface for air. We wonder, too, whether there would be a form like us, who would come to know and celebrate the 14-billion-year story of the Universe. I am convinced that the best answer is an unqualified Yes!”
(Michael Dowd, Thank God for Evolution p 31)

I’ll be specific with an example Dowd offers against the idea that evolution is a meaningless, blind process driven by chance and random happenstance. If you have ever followed the debates against the randomness of evolution by the creationists and the proponents of Intelligent Design you will be aware of the argument of Irreducible Complexity. Look at the eye, they say, or the wing. For the eye or wing to evolve by a random series of mutations is neigh on inconceivable. It’s mindboggling. For there to be a workable eye or wing, there must be some hundred or so mutations occurring all at once, half an eye doesn’t work. Half a wing is less than helpful, it is a dramatic hindrance. It must be the whole wing. And, then for the Natural Selection portion of it to work, there also has to be another member of the species of the opposite sex who has the same hundred or so mutations occurring simultaneously; and then these two need to find one another and mate for the mutation to be naturally selected. It is something like the monkey’s typing scenario. Yes, eventually – given enough time – a thousand monkeys will randomly type out a Shakespeare play, but one computation has the probability at one in a billion billion years. And if the Big Bang theory of the Universe is even remotely correct, the time span we’re talking about for quote “all of time” is a mere 14 billion years, and less than 4 billion for quote “life as we know it.”

And yet we have eyes. We have eyes like a squid’s, but our eyes are very different from an insect’s eyes which are more like those of a lobster’s. And the pinhole eye of a nautilus and the eye of the snail are each wildly distinct from our eyes. And yet, the universe has again and again produced simple photoreceptors capable of distinguishing between light and dark, and more complex organs able to sense shape, color, and texture. Again and again: eyes. Not once, but at least a dozen different times the evolutionary leap of eyes has happened. As Dowd says, “Surely the Universe was determined to see itself!” (p31)

So, what exactly is being suggested here? That the Intelligent Design people re scientifically right? Is Dowd suggesting that he and other noted scientists, theorists, biologists, and philosophers like John Stewart, Richard Dawkins, E. O. Wilson, Simon Conway Morris, David Sloan Wilson, and Ken Wilber, are conceding the debate to the Intelligent Design folks. No. Instead they are acknowledging compelling evidence that evolution has something of a trajectory. Something other than chance is at play. But saying that ‘chance’ does not explain everything is a far cry from saying that the description of events in Genesis will fill in all the blanks. No, what is being suggested is not a concession to the Creationists. But there is a clear claim that evolution is not as random as was once believed. There is a pattern or series of patterns that suggest a direction, a general trajectory. No one is claiming that the pattern is pure progress. It has been said that evolution meanders more than it progresses. Progress carries the tone that every step is a step forward, an improvement. But over the long haul there are clear indications of increased differentiation and depth, greater complexity and integration.

Ken Wilber writes, in A Brief History of Everything, “Evolution has a direction, yes, a principle of order out of chaos, as it is commonly phrased. In other words, a drive toward greater depth.” (p36) Progressive evolution, as Wilber is advocating here, is an idea that takes Darwin’s theories to the next, more complicated and creative level. Not all evolutionary scientists support this idea. This notion of ‘progressive evolution’ is in open debate among scientists today. It has been said that Darwin’s great contribution was not the idea of evolution so much to identify the process by which evolution happens: natural selection. This week marks the 200th anniversary of Darwin’s birth. It is a fitting occasion to recognize his monumental impact on our understanding of life. Darwin demonstrated that from this process, natural selection, the natural and inevitable result was evolution. Centuries before Darwin, people saw patterns, relationships that suggested something like evolution. An analogy that helps clarify this is from John Stewarts’s book Evolution’s Arrow in which he writes (p9) “Like patterns of stars in the night sky that resemble shapes significant to humans, the consistencies could be dismissed as the product of creative imagination, not the result of real, causal relationships.” But it was Darwin who supplied the mechanism. Before Darwin, people noticed the patterns and wondered. Now we see the same patterns and recognize the causal relationship of common ancestry and natural selection. Thus the analogous question arises today: what would be the mechanism for the pattern that appears to be an evolutionary trajectory?

If evolution has a drive for greater complexity and creativity, depth and differentiation, then what is that drive? Well, it is something as simple as Natural Selection. It is Cooperation. Evolution organized molecules into cells and cells into organisms and organisms into societies. The model is exemplified by a single cell bacteria merging with another single cell bacteria to form the first Eukaryotic cells. This evolutionary innovation of cooperation opened the door for all multi-cellular organisms. Science says “cooperate!” But isn’t that religion’s line? “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you,” or to paraphrase: ‘help one another.’

The next question would have to be ‘why?’ Why would any single organism cooperate with another? Well, for religion, the reason is because the book says so, or better, because my heart knows it is the right thing to do. Neither of those answers will serve for science though. So, scientifically, why would any single, Self-interested organism cooperate with another? Stewart tackles that question early in his book.
“How can evolution progress by exploiting these benefits of cooperation when, as Richard Dawkins and others have shown so clearly (in books like The Selfish Gene), evolution favors organisms that put their own selfish interests above all else? We will see that there is a solution to this apparent paradox: cooperation can flourish without organisms giving up their self-interest. Organisms can be organized so that beneficial cooperation is also consistent with their self-interests. When organisms are organized in this way, it is in their self-interest to be cooperative.” (Stewart, John Evolutions Arrow p10)

Cooperation is the root of the argument for the trajectory of evolution. Organisms who cooperate will out-compete those who do not! Cooperation is in an organism’s best interest. Evolution moves toward greater cooperation and thus greater depth and complexity, integration and differentiation. Now, from what I can understand, this is not necessarily a happy consensual agreement as we think of ‘cooperation’ today. The general theory of the development of that first Eukaryotic cell includes the notion that the oxygen-related mitochondria was originally a parasite; and similarly, the precursor to the photosynthesis structures in plant cells was originally ingested as food but was thankfully resistant to the digestive juices. (from Dowd, p36) Yet, that cooperation led to the dramatic innovations allowing life to evolve to such depths of creativity and complexity.

And thinking about this beyond the disciple of biology, (in case you are completely lost by all this biology,) the concept of society is rooted in the notion that we can evolve greater complexity when we cooperate. Our modern society is nothing if not a study in increased complexity in terms of technology, economy, politics, relationships, and entertainment. But much of that complexity is a product of societal cooperation: a commitment to the concept of the commons. Indeed one of the strongest religious critiques against society now is the insufficient respect for the potential benefit of cooperation. If our laws would actually punish greed rather than reward it we might find some of our best and brightest working to make the world a better place rather than just getting as big a piece of it as possible for themselves. But our society is far more reliant on cooperation than our news headlines would suggest. I’m guessing every one here has access to a pen. How much did you do independently to get that pen? Aside from the invention and innovation and improvement of design and style over the years, your particular pen was crafted by a machine, quite likely. But who built that machine? Who cleans the pen-making machine? Who packaged your pen and who delivered it to the store where you bought it? Who stood behind the counter and rang up the price of the pen? Who determined what the pen would cost? It’s endless.

And all that cooperation was not in the form of some altruistic effort to get you your pen. At each step the goal was more self-interest than a passionate effort to further the cooperative aspect of human evolution. Consider any aspect of your life. You would not exist if not for cooperation. And we lift up individuals as inventors, heroes, presidents, ministers, scientists, athletes, CEOs as if we’re going to get anywhere by having a single person do something wonderful on behalf of everyone else – when on the grand scale it is quite the opposite: countless numbers do countless little things leading up to a benefit for you as an individual. What would we be if self-interest was the only consideration? But when the self-interest is lined up along side cooperation for the community then all manor of creative and complex possibilities arise.

This easily leads into theological reflection around the nature of the universe and our place in it. Our existence is interconnected with all that is. Scientifically and theologically, we are radically connected to one another. And when we realize this truth and act in accordance with its implications we open ourselves up to the furtherance of not only our own spiritual and personal growth and deepening, we also line ourselves up as one more aspect of creation unfolding into the new day. And that is both a heady and humbling notion: we may be at a point in this evolutionary venture of life where with care and cooperation we can catch a glimpse of where we are headed in the broad view of life unfolding.

In a world without end,
May it be so.

Was Forty Years Long Enough?
Rev. Douglas Taylor
1-18-09

Once a year we liberal minister types dust off our copies of the “I Have a Dream” speech to check in and see how we are doing. Have we made progress? Are we closer to realizing the dream now than we were before? Have we reached the Promised Land that King had seen before he died? Dr. Martin Luther King was shot and killed a little over forty years ago. On the night before his assassination, King delivered a speech to striking sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee in which he closed saying:

Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. (-MLK 4/3/68 “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop”)

This reference to being on the mountain top and seeing the Promised Land is a reference to the story of Moses and the Hebrews wandering in the desert for 40 years. Why forty years? The Bible is always talking about 40 days or 40 years. Is 40 a special number? Well, one interpretation is that anytime you see the number 40 in reference to time it means “long enough.” The Israelites were in the desert ‘long enough.’ Noah and the ark floated with no sign of land for ‘long enough.’ Jesus was tempted by the devil in the wilderness for ‘long enough.’ Long enough for what? Well, specifically for the 40 years of wandering in the desert the Bible actually makes that pretty clear. God decided forty years was how long it would take for the men of fighting age that fled Egypt to die and the next generation to be ready. Throughout the Scripture the reason given is that God is punishing the original generation for their sin, for worshiping the golden calf while Moses was up on the mountain getting the Ten Commandments. Another interpretation might suggest that the generation who had the will and the understanding to leave Egypt behind did not have the will and the understanding to enter the Promised Land. Another generation with new will and a new understanding was needed.

And so it has been a little over 40 years since the Civil Rights movement and the assassination of Martin Luther King. Was forty years long enough for our walk through this wilderness? Are we almost there? Almost sixty years ago, whites and blacks learned in separate schools, drank from different water fountains, ate at separate lunch counters, and sat in different parts of the public bus. Within 20 years, much of that had changed. In 1961, (48 years ago) attorney general Robert F. Kennedy predicted that the country could elect a black president in the next 40 years. That’s how fast race relations were changing in America. Four decades back Massachusetts elected the first black man to the Senate. And nearly two decades back Virginia elected the first black governor. And now the nation has elected the first black president. There has been change. There has been progress. But it is premature to say we have arrived in the Promised Land. In the midst of all of that great progress there has also been the Rodney King beating, the O.J. Simpson farce of a trial, the rise and fall of the King of Pop Michael Jackson, and hurricane Katrina; all of these events were deeply tied to race. There has been a dramatic amount of racist vandalism over this past fall, much of it connected to Obama winning his parties nomination and then the presidency.

One person quipped that Rosa sat so that Martin could walk. Martin walked so that Barack could run. Barack ran so that we all could fly. I think this poem, though well arranged and poignant, falls into the trap of believing we have arrived at the Promised Land. I certainly agree that the election of Barack Obama as president signals a very significant moment in the history of race in the United States, I think it may be more accurate to say that we all are seeing the Promised Land rather than entering into it. Barack Obama is not our savior or our new Moses. Neither is he our Joshua who led the Israelites into the Promised Land, as the analogy I have been working may lead us to conclude. No, I don’t think Obama is even our Joshua. I think that, as with all analogies, this one breaks down eventually and fails to predict the future.

Let me, therefore step away from my elegant analogy of Moses and 40 years and the Promised Land to talk in plainer terms about this moment in time. The whole concept of ‘race’ is undergoing a shift, one that is necessary for us to recognize to be able to fully appreciate our present situation. When we talk about Dr. King’s dream, the Promised Land, the ultimate goal along the lines of race – we are talking about living together as one people, as a multiracial, multicultural, multiethnic united community. We are talking about bridging the differences.

How many remember that commercial for Coke back during the 1980 Super Bowl when a little kid tells Mean Joe Greene that he’s the best, gives the huge football star a coke and turn to leave. Greene turns to the boy and say, “Hey kid,” tosses his soiled jersey to the boy who responds, “Wow! Thanks, Mean Joe!” It was, arguably, a watershed moment in race relations. Here was this big black warrior-type being idolized by a young impressionable white kid. This commercial still makes the list of top ten best commercials ever on most lists I checked this weekend. The contrast of a big black man and a little white kid was simply that to the people who put the commercial together: a contrast. The goal was to sell Coke, not to make a leap in race relations.

Yet, the other contrast that happens in this commercial is the initial build up of racial tension and the resolution to racial harmony. And a bridge is built. Nat King Cole sings about chestnut roasting on an open fire and mainstream stores eventually carry his albums; and a bridge was built. Now it seems ridiculous to consider a music store not carrying a CD because the artist is not white. There are white hip hop artists and black pop stars. How many people have seen a movie in the past three years staring Will Smith, Hancock, Seven Pounds, I Am Legend, The Pursuit of Happyness. Do you need to go back further, I, Robot, Men in Black, Ali, Shark Tale? Smith is a movie icon. The mainstream culture in the form of movies, TV, sports, and music has largely transcended race.

In 2002, Leon Wynter, a seasoned columnist who focuses on business and Race, wrote a book entitled American Skin. The subtitle is, “Pop culture, big business, and the end of white America,” which signals the reader to the bold claim made by Mr. Wynter – namely that business marketing is impacting our cultural sense of race. And further, that mainstream culture is no longer ‘white.’ For the bulk of the history of our country, mainstream was synonymous with ‘white.’ This is way in which the concept of ‘race’ is shifting.

Race is a cultural construct rather than a genetic reality. There is no single genetic marker for race – race has no genetic basis. Modern scientists have discovered and continue to prove that no single gene, trait or characteristic distinguishes one race from another. Thus, race is a socially constructed concept. Not all social constructs are negative. Take ‘fairness’ for example. Life is not fair. And yet we work in our society to create fairness and equality. Fairness is a socially constructed concept. Race also is a social construct. Humanity is not made up of distinct biological ‘races’, yet it has been seen as politically and socially expedient over the years to have had definite divisions of humanity into various subgroups. Professor Kenneth Kennedy of Cornell University sums it up saying, “In the social sense, race is a reality. In the scientific sense, it is not.”

And then last week I read an article in Newsweek that seemed at first to throw that whole question of a biological basis of Race back up for debate. The article was about disease and pharmaceuticals. It began by acknowledging the long held understanding among geneticists that race is not genetically based. Then it mentions different health risks and drug responses among population groups. For example, studies found that people who identify themselves as African American benefit from a drug that relieves hypertension, but other racial or ethnic groups do not. Well, they had trouble marketing that without sounding like they were saying there is a genetic marker for race.

But one professor of health law, (Timothy Caulfield of University of Alberta) offered this clarification:

“Someone whose ancestors came from Nigeria is very different from a descendant of Kenyans, but if the two of them are walking down the sidewalk in New York, they’re both ‘black,” he says. “You can try to make those distinctions in your research, but once it gets into the hands of drug manufacturers, there’s going to be slippage … marketers want to sell to the broadest possible categories.” (Jerry Adler, “What’s Race Got to Do With It?” Newsweek, Jan 12, 2009 p16)

One can deduce, therefore, that researchers may find a genetic mark based on ethnicity or ancestral geography, nut marketers turn it into race. The article ends with the view that science and pharmaceuticals will eventually move past racial (or more accurately ethnic ancestry) groupings to the specificity of each individual’s genetic make-up. Which, I believe, is where all issues of race will eventually end. And that is the Promised Land we now see today. To judge one another not by the color of our skin but by the content of our character. To see each person before you, not as part of this group or that group, but as an individual.

Today, young people feel they are post-racial, as in: their race is not limited to black, white, red or yellow. People like Tiger Woods are multiracial. He made news as a phenomenal golfer and the media was tied up trying to label him as black or as Asian. In an interview with Oprah he said. “Growing up, I came up with this name: I’m a ‘Cablinasian.’” As in Caucasian-black-Indian-Asian: Cablinasian. Technically he is ½ Asian, ¼ black, 1/8 white, and 1/8 American Indian. But this is also a way of saying, ‘see me as an individual, not as a Black individual or an Asian individual; simply as an individual.’

Even being biracial like Barack Obama is complicated enough. He is African American, and he is at the same time ½ African-American and ½ Caucasian. This can be true because there is not a scientific definition of race, the definition is cultural. But to go even deeper, he is half Kenyan and half (or nearly half) Irish. And if you read or at least have heard about the book How the Irish Became White, then you see that this both clarifies and complexifies the race and ethnic ancestry of our first black president.

Which brings us back to the earlier definition of race as a ‘cultural construction.’ To say he is our first black president is to sweep over his ethnic ancestry and simply label him as black. A label he accepts, of course. But it is only accurate if we understand race as a social construct rather than a genetic fact. And the election of Barack Obama as our president is another mark of the shift in the definition of ‘mainstream.’ Mainstream is becoming multicultural and multiracial. Mainstream America is no longer ‘white.’

Have we arrived? No. But the day is coming when our mainstream culture will regularly hold up images to which each American can say, ‘I see real and positive role models for myself and my children.’ The day is coming when the bridges built between our divisions will be stronger than the hate which longs to tear it all down. The day is coming when every American will be seen as an individual rather than as a racial category. The day is coming, the Promised Land has been glimpsed, the dream is waking to a new day dawning with room for us all.

In a world without end
May it be so