"Character"

READING

Unitarian minister A. Powell Davies served All Souls Church in

Washington, DC from 1944 until his death in 1955. Davies was a renowned

preacher in his time, famous for his modern and fresh approach to

religion. All the readings I have used today come from a book of his

sermons titled "The Faith of an Unrepentant Liberal."

What is good character today? A good character today is based upon

honesty that runs right through life - an individual's own life and the

life of the world. Not the cheap kind of honesty which is merely a clean

window looking out upon a dirty alley. Not the honesty which debunks

only to destroy and abandon. But the honesty that makes a mind reckon

with facts, that sheds the light of day upon every kind of prejudice,

that considers the welfare of all [humanity] and not just the paltry

virtue of not cheating on small change. This kind of honesty will face

[us] with [ourselves] plainly, clearly, unmasked, without excuse and

without indulgence. It will face [us] with the right of the world, the

right of [our] community, the right of every segment of human life of

which [we are] a part, to be considered, to be upheld, in our

conscience. This honesty will deny [us] all solace, all serenity, all

self-esteem, until [we] cease to think selfishly, sectionally,

provincially - [until we] think universally. It will require behavior to

follow thought. It will mix honest thinking with honest living.

 

SERMON

American standards of character, A. Powell Davies observed,

        have changed substantially over the years.

From his vantage point of 1946,

        he watched the last vestiges of Victorian culture recede,

                as new norms emerged.

The industrial revolution,

        the Depression,

                two World Wars,

                        and the sobering aftermath of the Holocaust,

                                had done the job of rendering the old virtues obsolete.

Modern realities set an altered tone.

Davies did not lament the lapse of the Victorian attitude.

He nailed it harshly:

        "life-denying, fear-ridden, obsessional."

The values were concerned with surface appearances:

        honesty veered dangerously into hypocrisy;

                diligence yielded a glorification of drudgery,

                        and piety undermined the integrity of a personal faith.

Modernity, to Davies, 

        brought with it an unsentimental perspective on the world,

                a bracing, rational approach to religion,

                        and a new demand for universal loyalties.

We had evolved, he could see,

        into a very different society from what we were.

That was good.

We had arrived at a point

        at which improvements could be made

                and we had a chance to make a much better impression

                        on those who would follow us.

Still, modernity had its dangers.

"It begins to be urgent," 

        he warns,

                "that this newer approach be more effective.

We know that we are not doing much better for our own children 

        than the Victorians did for theirs.

If we cannot mold character in the young

        by quoting from the Bible,

                neither do we mold it very well

                        by leaving it to the radio and the comic strips.

Or by giving voice occasionally to our own very tentative parental wisdom."

He also mentions his concern with the emerging popularity

        of shallow self-improvement schemes.

"We are rather tired," he says,

        "of the fraudulent way in which we talk of 'personality'

                instead of 'character.'

Personality without moral worth.

Personality valued only for attractiveness or impressiveness.

We are not very proud that such a book

        as How to Win Friends and Influence People

                has sold hundreds of thousands of copies.

What it really means is that multitudes of people 

        want to know how to glitter,

                how to be glib,

                        how to be a sow's ear and look like a silk purse,

                                how to use people for your own benefit,

how to be a fascinating conversationalist

        though your mental rating is close to ceiling zero –

                and how to make money while being all these things."

Charmingly dated though his observations may be,

        they still possess relevance to our own situation.

We could rail about a culture that rewards celebrity

        and ignores modesty,

                about the abundance of shallow self-help solutions,

                        and virtual realities competing with family relationships.

All that – and still ask, as Davies did,

                so "What is a good character today?"

Whatever the obstacles,

        we'd like to know what can make us better people.

Many of us seek help by coming to church.

The search for character is a central theme in religious life.

Though doctrines differ,

        every faith tradition has an image of a moral person.

Some hand out less to work with:

        being born with original sin,

                as the Unitarians and the Universalists critically observed,

                        was not so easy to overcome

                                and not much of an incentive for living a good life.

Moral development occurs in a context of acceptance and security,

        in the positive assurance that all people,

                whatever their abilities,

                        can grow and learn in their own way.

That is how we become better people.

That is what we hope to learn not only from church, 

but from life itself.

We value character more as we age.

Not that children don't possess it –

        they do, and often more than we do –

                but they have yet to meet 

the seductive and unsettling ways of the world

                                that will also shape who they are.

In the Chinese fable about Ping and the empty pot,

        the honesty of the child

                is encouraged by his father

                        and then rewarded by the Emperor.

But it's not so simple,

        since part of the lesson for Ping

                is seeing how easily the other children fell for the Emperor’s ruse.

Good character develops in contact 

        with what is both good and not good,

                and learns to tell the difference through experience.

As we grow older and understand 

        not only that the world is complex

                but so are we,

                        the pursuit of good character grows complex as well.

I can still remember how awed and inspired I was

        when I first saw the movie "Lawrence of Arabia."

All that desert action played out on the big screen,

        with an oceanic sound track to go with it,

                was exciting and beautiful.

I was a very young person then,

        and the movie made me feel a new yearning,

                a yearning to be tested in some larger than life moral arena,

                        to be tested and to prevail,

                                no doubt in some larger than life way.

It was a grandiose desire,

        which kindled a curiosity in me to study the life of T.E. Lawrence,

                and to discover what conditions made him

                        the way he was.

Unfortunately, there are few more opaque historical figures

        than T.E. Lawrence.

It's impossible to know much about him,

        though much has been written.

He insisted on maintaining an ambiguous image,

        probably because he felt he had something to hide,

                and possessed a self-destructive streak.

After his glory days in the desert,

        he served a stint under an assumed name

                as a private in the army 

                        and died in a motorcycle accident

                                when he veered off the road to avoid hitting someone.

In stark contrast to his highly publicized career as "El Lawrence,"

        his great moment of truth may not have come

                until the very end.

I still like him.

But I didn't learn much about character from my hero worship.

That larger than life moral challenge 

        turns out to be life itself,

                in which we learn to prevail 

                        in small but heroic ways,

                                over all that would make us less than we could be.

Come to think of it,

        the same was probably true of the real T.E. Lawrence.

What is a good character today? 

"A good character today," says Davies,

        "is based upon honesty 

                that runs right through life –

                        an individual's own life and the life of the world."

While the Victorians preached honesty,

        theirs was the "small but solid" kind,

                a good start, but needing enlargement.

"No [person] of small virtues," Davies declares,

        "however intact and perfect, 

                can lay claim to a good character today. 

If choice were necessary, 

        it would be better to have the greater virtues and lose the lesser, 

                rather than possess the lesser, 

                        no matter how inviolate, 

                                and lose the greater. 

He aptly cites the words of Jesus:

        "Look at the Scribes and Pharisees," said Jesus. 

                "They strain out gnats and swallow camels. 

                        Your virtue must exceed theirs."

Davies appreciated honest practices in daily life,

        the careful counting out of change,

                the integrity of a handshake,

                        but he could see that people were often dishonest

                                about who they really were.

Honesty was also a reckoning with reality.

"This kind of honesty will face [us] with [ourselves] plainly,

        clearly, unmasked,

                without excuse and without indulgence,"

                        he advises.

Honesty is also constructive.

It is not the kind of honesty that tears things down,

        but upholds the right of community 

                and of the world.

It is the kind of honesty that takes 

        more than ourselves into account,

                but moves us towards a collective truth,

                        a universal view.

This is the kind of honesty that it takes

        to have a good character. 

We are asked to be true 

        not only to ourselves,

                but to purposes that are greater than ourselves.

"A character is no longer really good

        that stops short of the universal claim upon it,"

                Davies says.

However faithful in our love,

        or generous in our kindness,

                if our loyalties are limited by family,

                        or social group,

                                or faith community,

                                        or nation,

                                                we are building a wall,

                                                        not a character.

Davies takes another story from the life of Jesus

        to illustrate:

"Two thousand years ago 

        some people brought the mother of Jesus

                to speak with him,

                        to admonish him, in fact.

But Jesus was [busy] talking 

        to a great multitude of people.

And he turned to those who had interrupted him

        and spoke what must have sounded very strange words:

'These,' he said, indicating the multitude,

        'these are my mother, my sisters and my brethren.'"

"Well, it was prophetic then," Davies comments.

"Only a spiritual genius could rise to it.

Now it is a practical necessity."

 "I do not mean that it is a necessity

        that we should forsake our loyalties to family,

                to friends,

                        to homeland,"

                                Davies makes clear.

"But it is a necessity that we transcend them.

That we carry the same loyalties 

        increasingly towards the universal."

We need that advice here and now

        as our own country eventually faces the task

                of recovery from sharp divisions

                        over political allegiances.

We have a lot to transcend.

More than ever, the character we need to build

        is the kind that will move us 

                beyond our limits 

                        and towards something greater than ourselves.

It may be too much to ask.

But it is where I suggest we begin.

Building character is our human vocation,

        to work on ourselves and to work on the world,

                to strive for our behavior to follow our ideals.

Building character is also a developmental process.

We keep at it all our lives.

If you’re feeling like you need to work on it

        to come up to Davies' standards, or your own,

                you’re not alone.

We all do.

I think back to who I was 

        when I first got swept away by "Lawrence of Arabia,"

                and wished to be tested to prove my moral worth.

I have now only to look over my whole life

        and see that I have grown, 

                not in big dramatic moments,

                        but in small developmental steps.

I have grown when I have allied myself with people and values

        that stand for what is good in life, 

                and just, and universal.

I have grown when I didn’t give up trying to become a better person.

Davies observed that standards of character had changed over the years.

Yet they have not changed much since his time,

        only become more urgent to acquire

                and more difficult to achieve.

Still, I don't think any of us are going to give up anytime soon.

The human vocation will always call us to grow 

        and to live by the values that show us how to be true to ourselves