Chalice

The Chalice as a Beacon

As my first attempt at this sort of thing, I thought I would begin, as most first-time guest-speakers here do, by talking a little about my relationship with the Unitarian Church in general, and with this one in particular. Those visiting today should know that my views should by no means be assumed to be representative of this congregation, nor even typical, for that matter [I don’t even think there is such a thing as ‘typical’ in our church, come to think of it].
Anyway, unlike many in this church (though by no means all), I was actually born into the Unitarian denomination (as opposed to having come to it later). My parents had moved from the Eastern United States (fled, you might say) to San Diego (on the West coast) following their parents’ less-than-enthusiastic reaction to their Protestant-Jewish union (think Mayflower meets ‘Fiddler on the Roof’). Happily, my parents were welcomed into the church without hesitation as was I, when I came along.
As I was a product of two independent spirits (such as my parents were), so was I, not surprisingly, rather one myself, and so was very comfortable with the spirit and ethos of the church, and the warmth and creativity of its people. Like this church here in Dublin, it was also a source of grounding and community for a displaced family like ourselves, kind-of like extended family (only without as many difficult personalities as you find in most families!). Also, as I could tell even then, the community seemed different from the world outside, in a way which I couldn’t (and still can’t quite) describe specifically.
Over time, I also became aware of the social leadership role of the Unitarian church (later, the Unitarian Universalist) within the wider community in my town and the entire country, as well. For instance, the more-or-less matter-of-fact social interaction between openly-gay people and straight people within the congregation, in retrospect would have been quite unusual for its time, as would have been friendships between white families and those of African, Asian, and Hispanic descent, and it was only much later that one realised the importance such an example had played in shaping change within the wider community.
I remember the church hosting meetings of the American Civil Liberties Union, a movement started and led by a Unitarian named Roger Baldwin, a group only slowly gaining public acceptance in the years following their earlier victories during the McCarthy Era (before I was born).
I remember quite clearly the conscious steps of Social Action taken by the church and its members, such as when our Minister, Reverand John Ruskin Clark traveled to Selma, Alabama to help other Unitarian Ministers in encouraging white church groups to support Martin Luther King in the peace marches. [I remember seeing coverage of the riots on TV and hearing news that one of the other Unitarian ministers on that trip had been beaten to death by police, causing us much sadness, not to mention worry, until Rev. Clark managed to phone after several days].
During the Viet nam war, Unitarian Churches in the US were among the first to organise public ‘draft-card burnings’ in Civil Disobediance, no doubt being seminal in raising public awareness of questions that had not publicly been aired.
Then, sometime later, a group of Unitarian congregations started the Nuclear Freeze movement, beginning the swell of public opinion which led to pressure on government to negotiate the Arms Limitation and Reduction Treaties.
I also recall the forming of teams (in retrospect perhaps less successful in swaying public opinion) raising awareness about the precariousness of the Environment and other groups such as one for limiting population growth (the then Zero Population Growth).
I mention these to highlight the leadership role the Unitarian (actually, UU) church in the US had played with regard to public opinion on fundamental issues of social importance as I was growing up.
Since my arrival here in Dublin, this church has been a wonderful source of inspiration and community.
I would characterise the experience in this church as being different – not better or worse, but certainly different from what I was used to growing up. For an hour or so on Sunday, I enjoy a welcome break from the outside world, a source of quiet inspiration. Coming here, I am usually guided to a feeling of peace and often, of wonder. While the troubles of the outside world may be alluded to in passing, it is in the context of stresses which we can perhaps avoid through looking after our own inner harmony.
In this sense, I can truly say that the services here are frequently much more enjoyable and settling than what I remember in America.
It is a real question for a congregation, whether to focus on the attainment of inner peace of its members, or to bring in outside strife and conflict, and issues facing humanity as a whole, to improve our connectedness, but at the risk of disturbing the tranquility we hope to achieve.
I am not here to suggest one path or another, but simply to raise the question, and to note the distinction between the style of this church and that of my upbringing.
Here in Dublin, we do have the Justice and Peace group, which does valuable work with Fair Trade, and by providing much-needed aid for several schools in impoverished parts of the world.
I fully support this work, and trust that it will continue. It is work which no reasonable person could object to, and such lack of controversy helps it grow.
What I am referring to is the potential for even more commitment. The awareness and acknowledgement of the fact that our own privileged lifestyle and economic good fortune as a society are not without their consequences to ourselves and to the world at large. Further, that there are those in our society who go to great lengths to make sure we do not gauge, nor are we fully aware of the tradeoffs we are all making.
As Bill has pointed out here once or twice, the word religion comes from the Latin root meaning ‘to bind’, as in bringing people together. While it is tempting to seek my own inner peace (and comfort), when I do this, I often wonder if I am truly feeling connected to and mindful of those around me and abroad?
I suppose what I am talking about is the willingness to get involved in concerns close to home having local and global impact, in a manner which could prove to be controversial or risky.
But just as Bill seems to be edging closer and closer to controversy theologically with his sermons and forthcoming book about the Gospel and the Zodiac (and he assures me that it’s all about to ‘hit the fan’), I wonder whether there is a comparable willingness within the congregation to push boundaries on Social Issues within the community.
Playing devil’s advocate, let’s look at the case against doing so. In the short time I have been in Ireland, it has seemed to me that culturally (despite what I been led to expect as an outsider in the context of history), direct confrontation seems to be extremely unpopular as a general rule and tends to be avoided at all costs (though I do admit that my experience has been heavily biased towards ‘South Dublin’ – maybe I need to get out more!). Anyway, if this is the case, then perhaps the church and its congregation would prefer to pursue its goals in accordance with the prevalent culture and not risk controversy, which I can perfectly understand.
On the other hand, looking at things from the point of view I had before coming to Ireland, I would have thought that issues of things like sovereignty (for instance) would matter more to Irish people than they appear to nowadays. I was astonished to read recently that the US’s so-called PATRIOT act (which apparently bears a remarkable similarity to Adolf Hitler’s Enabling act of 1933) actually applies (in effect) in Ireland, to everyone, including Irish Citizens?
Since 21 July 2005, an agreement was made which allows CIA and FBI agents (yes, US agents!) in Ireland to detain anyone without charge, and to confiscate property from anyone in Ireland, for whatever reason they deem appropriate in the name of ‘anti-terrorism’.
After I found this out, I was so astonished I had not previously heard about it, that I looked back through issues of the news media at the time to find references to it. Amazingly, when this agreement was made, it apparently hardly hit the radar as far as coverage went, and not only is the agreement still in effect, but the government responsible was subsequently reelected (albeit in coalition, with the minister most directly responsible for the agreement having been voted out).
It is not my point to get on a soapbox here and make a political point. I am not here to say whether or not I think the US PATRIOT act is a good thing, nor whether or not I think Irish citizens should be complacent about being bound by it in their own country. I do think the fact that it has all been done so easily and quietly ‘offends my soul’ (to quote part of our own Baptismal service, coming from Whitman).
Similarly, the so-called CIA ‘rendition’ (i.e., ‘torture’) and other military flights landing in Shannon airport? Where has this truly been debated in any wide sense? The only aspect I have seen given lengthy coverage was the expected economic hardship which would hit the region near Shannon Airport were such flights to stop. [This reminded me somehow of the article I read on the plight of the poor coca farmers of Colombia whose livelihood was likely to be threatened by new anti-drug measures]
Maybe these things worry you like they do me. Or maybe not.
Whether or no, are Churches the right places to raise such matters?
Maybe we could just leave public awareness to the people waving red flags in O’Connell Street? [Long may they continue!]

Or Universities?
What about them?
Funny you should ask.
Traditionally, based on international experience, the most common and logical place for public awareness on social and political issues to be raised, has been the University. They are, or are meant to be, the social leaders of society, at least in the secular domain.
I work at UCD.
As I noted in an interview quoted in the Irish Independent last year, I was surprised at the ease (and lack of press) with which one of George Bush’s White House Advisors was allowed to orchestrate a complete restructuring of Ireland’s largest University, UCD. Given the resulting decimation (all departments being abolished and the academic staff disenfranchised overnight) I was surprised that there was no mention in the press of Bush’s involvement until I mentioned it, and a deafening yawn when my piece did appear (though, I should say, not within the top administration at UCD).
Perhaps I was over-reacting to something I had read called the Church US Senate Report (after senator Frank Church, who had strong connections to Unitarianism) dating from the time of Bush Senior’s reign as head of the CIA (perhaps even earlier), where the Congressional committee had formally taken to task the CIA for infiltrating and tampering with top University Administrations at home and abroad in order to manage Campus sentiment.
Well, now that I think of it, I don’t know why I even bothered to bring it up. Covert tampering? Surely things like that could never happen nowadays…
Anyway, suffice it to say that the chances of activism or any public awareness campaigns occurring at UCD, which I would never have regarded as being particularly high, are now virtually nil, and (from the look of things) will remain so for some time. From a strategic point of view, any ‘threat’ of clear-headedness has been well-and-truly neutralised. Unfortunately, the full extent of the ‘collateral damage’ to Ireland’s Higher Education sector remains largely undocumented and will, I feel, only become understood in the fullness of time.
So what about the flaming chalice, the symbol of our denomination?
What does it represent?
We frequently refer to warmth, inspriation, spirit, and hope.
The flaming chalice was orignially designed during the second world war by an Austrian refugee named Hans Deutsch for the Unitarian Service Committee (USC), which was a group formed to coordinate the underground movements for helping Jews and Unitarians escape Nazi persecution. The flaming chalice apparently became the symbol for the whole underground movement.
So here we are getting a bit closer to the point, which is that among other things, the flaming chalice represents the Action Leadership role of the Unitarian church in its long tradition.
Having grown up as Unitarian (or UU), I sometimes forget that even many Americans of the denomination (let alone those outside America) seem almost entirely unaware of the role the Unitarian Church has played in US history. Going back through history, Unitarian Susan B. Anthony led the movement for women’s suffrage in America [as did her counterpart, Unitarian Emmeline Pankhurst, in England].
I skip back through the leaders of the Abolitionist movement before the American Civil War, who were mostly Unitarian, and move back to the time of the American Revolution.
Unitarian Thomas Jefferson wrote most of the US Declaration of Independence (incidentally, among his many accomplishments was the ability to read early original texts in Gaelic).
One of the early campaigners for American Indepence, Unitarian Thomas Paine wrote a widely-circulated, influential pamphlet called ‘Common Sense’.
I close by reiterating that the flaming chalice which is the symbol of this church can denote many things, most obviously, the light of inspiration, of warmth, and of hope. But During the American Revolution, perhaps one of the most enduring images was the beacon associated with the apocryphal ride of Unitarian Paul Revere, symbolising an urgent call for action.
I don’t know where you stand on Social Action in relation to the church (and I admit it is not clear-cut, even if you value Social Action itself). I can say, though, that if, as a church, we do decide to consider looking into extending our role in this direction, we will be in pretty good company.

Dr.D.Edelman 23rd September 2007
Dublin Unitarian Church



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