"When Faith Takes Action"

According to the Nigerian folk tale, 

        the sky once came so close to the earth

                that people could reach up 

                        and help themselves to a piece of it for dinner.

But that was a more innocent time.

It wasn't long before people wasted the abundance that nourished them.

The sky pulled away in anger, moving far out of reach.

Then people had to learn how to take care of themselves.

 

The story suggests that human responsibility – 

        for each other and for the earth –

                has its origin in human nature,

                        flawed though that might be.

Because of who we are, we have work to do.

Our calling as human beings is to work for our survival 

        and take nothing for granted.

 

So deeply ingrained is this sense of responsibility

        that it has provided the moral foundation 

                for human community, 

                        especially one grounded in religious faith.

The values of compassion and stewardship

        are fundamental to people of faith,

                whose traditions express their relationship to others,

                        to the earth,

                                and to their God.

A responsibility to care for those who are vulnerable,

        a desire to right what has gone wrong,

                a struggle to determine what is just and true,

                        are integral expressions of the work 

                                a religious community is called to do.

Even groups with widely varying beliefs

        can come together to act in service 

                and to respond to the cry for justice.

 

In our tradition, the authority to act comes from two sources:

        the right of conscience

                and the use of the democratic process.

We move back and forth

        between these two aspects of moral responsibility,

                the individual and the communal.

Our work is to listen to –

        and even sometimes to be –

                the voice crying in the wilderness,

                        but our work is also to use the collective power we have 

                                to make a difference in a big way.

It is a challenge to pay attention to both aspects of our tradition.

 

Recently I met with a visitor to our church, a man from out of town.

He was interested in our "Faith in Action" initiative

        because he thought he might use a similar strategy

                to work with his own congregation. 

"What do you think," he asked me,

        "is the most compelling social problem of our time?"

I searched for an answer.

We had just had that meeting with all the issues 

        written out and pasted to the walls of this room.

We had voted with colored dots on the issues we preferred.

Which is more important: hunger, shelter,

        youth at risk, gay, lesbian, bisexual civil rights, among others?

What can we do, locally, nationally, internationally?

It's an overwhelming choice,

        which could easily dissolve into debate and confusion,

                rather than action.

So we chose: hunger and youth at risk.

 

When I told the visitor what we had chosen,

        he said,

                "So you think that those

                        are the two most important issues in our society?"

I responded that it's hard to say

        what are the most important issues;

                but that we chose the ones we did

                        because we thought we could be effective in working on them.

The visitor went on to tell me about the situation 

        in his small town in the Midwest.

He described a deeply divided community,

        polarized along race lines,

                with poor African American people living at one end of town,

                        and rich white people at the other.

 

He couldn't live any longer, he said,

        without trying to do something about the injustice.

He might have to work alone,

        since his own congregation seemed more involved with Friday night potlucks

                and Sunday morning worship

                        than with their larger community,

                                but he would try.

"You see, I believe that someday 

        I am going to have to answer for my life,"

                he told me,

                        "and I want to be able to say 

                                that I tried to do the right thing."

 

I was touched by his sincerity and conviction.

Moral authority makes itself known in more than one way:

        in this man’s case, 

                through the power of his response

                        to the call of his conscience;

                                in our recent experience as a congregation,

                                        through the collective power of our commitment

                                                to act on our vote.

Either way, the possibilities are limitless.

 

After listening to the visitor tell me 

        what he hoped to do in his small town,

                I realized how hard it is to choose,

                        how much energy it takes to act,

                                to make the time and the space in our lives

                                        so that we can make a difference.

He may have to act alone.

At least we have each other,

        and the momentum we can generate together,

                to keep us going.

 

And as compelling as the call of the lone conscience can be, 

        in our tradition there is only one way 

                to harness the collective will of the people,

                        and that is through the democratic process.

No one can speak for the group

        unless the group has spoken.

Given that our group is an aggregate of individuals,

        each with our own fired-up conscience and opinions,

                it's a major achievement 

                        when we labor through the effort

                                of coming to a decision together.

The moral authority of our group

        is grounded in the outcome of collective determination.

If you don't like the outcome,

        you may dissent,

                but you may not interfere 

                        with the stand the group has chosen to take.

 

Given the healthy and enthusiastic participation

        in the "Faith in Action" process of choosing issues

                and joining together to work on them,

                        I am confident that our moral authority as a congregation

                                will expand and express itself 

                                        in fresh, new forms of activism.

Given the history of this church and our larger faith

        in making the most 

                of our small but imaginative numbers,

                        we can hope to make a real difference.

But the difference we hope to make

        will be one we achieve on our own terms.

For the freedom we cherish, enjoy

        and implement through democratic process 

                is a freedom we can protect

                        only if we remain independent and autonomous.

 

Perhaps you share my concern

        about the recent Bush administration proposal 

                to offer funding to faith-based programs of social service.

I fear that it will undermine, 

        rather than bolster

                the work that we and other religious communities

                        undertake as an expression of our faith.

I fear that it will undermine some and bolster others!

I fear that some will be tempted to compromise their integrity

        in order to receive support.

I fear that the interfaith community will become divided

        over how to draw the line of separation between church and state.

 

Many have already argued 

        against the initiative, saying:

it abrogates the First Amendment,

        is impossible to regulate,

                and displaces funding that is desperately needed

                        by secular agencies;

it engenders intolerance,

        by placing religious groups in competition with secular programs;

it invites discrimination,

        by investing in explicitly religious ministries,

                with belief systems 

                        and programs for promoting them.

Even evangelist Pat Robertson has spoken out against it,

        because he opposes giving funds to groups

                whose beliefs are anathema to his faith.

He'd rather do without the money

        than have to share it 

                with the Church of Scientology.

I agree with Pat Robertson.

He understands the complexity of religious pluralism

        and the inevitable judgments we make about each other.

Many religious groups have belief systems I don’t share either.

That is what we have in a free society.

But to maintain a free and pluralistic country,

        our faith groups must be free and independent.

 

There are many ways that divergent religious groups

        can come together to act for social justice.    

But the moral authority that compels us

        and the accountability we offer in return,

                are an individual expression of our faith traditions;

                        and can vary widely from one to another.

That is why the state should not fund a religious program.

 

Over the years I've attended many public events,

        demonstrations and vigils,

                as a member of the clergy.

At such gatherings,

        which draw participants from throughout the interfaith community, 

                I’ve heard well-meaning leaders make assumptions

                        about the participants’ beliefs.

I've heard leaders declare 

        that the one thing we have in common

                is that we all believe in God, for example.

I've listened uneasily to such pronouncements.

I want to be part of the group – the "people of faith" group –

        but I know that people from our tradition,

                as well as others, such as the Buddhists, perhaps,

                        are there not because we all believe in God,

but simply because we care

        and we want to take a stand about the issue.

Moral authority comes in different shapes, 

        and through many channels:

                for some, it is God,

                        but for others, it is the voice crying in the wilderness,

                                or the compelling case they hear at a church meeting,

                                        that convince them of what they need to do.

When people of faith take action,

        we do so because we choose to take a stand;

                because our traditions have taught us ways of responding

                        to the cry for justice;

                                and we are moved.

And that happens, 

        not because our ideologies lead us along similar lines,

                but because we are human.

 

The human response to the need to care for each other

        and for the earth

                expresses itself in different ways;

                        through religious teachings 

                                that emphasize service and compassion;

                                        and through the call of the conscience

                                                to make our lives count in some small way

                                                        for the common good.

If moral authority begins anywhere,

        it begins with the human responsibility to do our part.

It saddens me to think that faith-based programs

        must take up the work 

                that any humane and decent society

                        ought to understand as the calling of its government.

There will always be work that people of faith can still do.

We’re about to do more of that work ourselves.

And we will do it as a free, autonomous and democratic religious community

        that puts our faith into action

                because we are human

                        and we care

                                and we have power when we get together.

We hope you will join us.

 

The tale from Nigeria reminds us that it is not always easy to be human.

We are flawed,

        we make mistakes.

But we also possess the deep and intuitive understanding

        that life is a gift,

                and that we must do our part

                        in response to all that we have been given.

And we are ready to begin.