Who is god? What is god? Is god male? Is she female? Is god even human? Perhaps there is a reason why god is dog spelled backwards. These are questions that we will ask ourselves throughout our lives. Before I moved here from New Mexico, I thought I had a clear idea of who god was: nobody. God is just a phantom. An old man with a long, white beard, made up by ancient fanatics, trying to explain why the world is as it is. To put it bluntly, god doesn't exist.
When I moved here, we stayed in a hotel for quite some time, because our house wasn't ready. Since my dad began work several days after we arrived, I was stuck in a hotel room for several weeks, with precious little to do. It was during that time in which I read the uncut version of Robert A. Heinlein's "Stranger In A Strange Land". In this book, a man named Michael Valentine Smith, who was raised by Martians, comes to Earth, to try and live his life as normal man. Pretty obviously, Mike stands out quite a bit, from his skill of levitation to his inhuman ability to Grok, which is the ability to understand something, but in a way a human never could. One thing that Mike has trouble grasping is our different religions. How can all of these religions be so different, and all claim to be true? Jubal, a new friend of Mike, tries to explain earth’s religion to Mike. Finally, after several attempts, Mike’s face lights up, with understanding, and he proclaims to Jubal, ''I grok god, Jubal, thou art god.'' Jubal's response says it all, ''Oh, Jesus H. - What have I done?" Yes, I was highly amused by his response. But then, as I continued to read, I realized something. Mike meant a lot more than "thou art god''. He was on to something. By the time I had finished that 525 page book, I had a new understanding of what ''god'' exactly was, & the use of the word god. God is not at all some supreme being, looking upon the earth, declaring, “you will be rich, you be poor. You live, you die” No, it is something far simpler, and yet no less magnificent. It is that spark of life, that force, supernatural or scientific, that exists in all of us & drives us to do great things. It is a part of you, me and the rest of the world. Indeed, it is not just a part of us, we are actually god. You, me, Al Pachino, trees, George Bush, dogs, cats, even Osama Bin Laddin, we are all God. That is the point Michael Valentine Smith was trying to make. It is your choice; you are the only one who makes those decisions. When you say god, you can mean something entirely different than the person sitting next to you.
However, the thing that makes this simple word so special is this; you are both right. There is no wrong definition of god. You may disagree, but you can never say ''no, your beliefs are wrong''. Even if you do, you cannot control someone else’s beliefs, just influence them. God, a word that can be translated into any language with infinite meanings. But in the end, even with all of its meanings, there is only one phrase that can sum it up, ''Thou art god''...
Growing up in a Unitarian congregation, we’re taught to think and develop our own sense of God, religion, and spirituality. Unitarianism is a faith of personal quests for truth, and in fact a majority of Unitarians are actually people who came from other faiths, resisting the dogma and rigidity they found there. Unitarianism offered them a solace where they could determine for themselves what they believed – we are members of an extremely welcoming faith. But lately I’ve been questioning how far a religion can go towards being welcoming and accepting of all ideas before it loses its actual religious integrity.
Whenever I try to explain Unitarianism to someone who has never heard of it, I have trouble trying to put it into words that make sense. I realize that UUism may be too complex to put into a few short sentences, but I find myself getting frustrated that we don’t seem to have a single uniting idea, that can explain Unitarianism, or at least scratch the surface. Granted, it originated as a movement away from the trinity, so I can mention that, but really, there aren’t many uniting ideas.
Now, I know we have the principles, which are supposed to be our creed, without becoming dogmatic, but really, upon examination, I don’t know whether the principles really hold up to any test of religion. Declarations of respect the interconnected web and acceptance of one another are great, but they do not a religion make. And while the phrase “a free and responsible search for truth and meaning” is an amazing thought, what does it mean? These are wonderful ideas, but how do they make us a religion?
As I said earlier, a lot of people here are converts from other religions, so they resist dogmatic statements. None of us here want to be members of a religion that forces us to follow one set of rules; we all want to make these decisions for ourselves. But at what point does an avoidance of dogma turn into an inability to put any parameters on what we believe? Sometimes I feel like we’ve gone so far into being welcoming and avoiding exclusion of any ideas that we end up without any identity of our own. MVUC often seems more like a giant social action group with a few moments of meditation thrown in than a religious sanctuary. Social action is a very important part of religion and community, but it doesn’t make a religion. We need some kind of uniting spiritual idea. Some parameters are okay.
You all rebelled against traditional religion because of its dogma. I’m feeling a bit rebellious because modern UUism seems to have no spiritual substance to grab on to, to give out to others. We’re so welcoming, its almost alienated me. Maybe that’s part of the reason there’s such an issue about minding the Gap – because we, as young people growing up as Unitarians, can’t identify what makes us different from socially-aware non-religious people. Where has the religion part of UU gone? Maybe we do need to revisit the principles, and maybe we do need some more specific ideas concerning our belief system. Now, I don’t claim to know what those ideas should be, and that’s what makes it so difficult – striking the balance between religion and indoctrination. But I think UUism needs to take another look at the issue.
My first UU youth conference, a little over two years ago, was a Spirituality Development Con. It was there that I first encountered the term “worship” in a context that wasn’t necessarily literal. I can be a bit cynical, so I began to argue the semantics of this title in my head. However, I’ve since come to understand it as simply a word that happens to be associated with what has come to be a very meaningful part of my life.
Worship happens at every con each night around midnight. It usually begins outside the sanctuary of the church; for MVUC it’s the area we call the Commons. There’s always a song, sometimes one that’s taught to us right then, sometimes a familiar church hymn, like “Come, Come Whoever You Are.” Hand in hand, everyone files into the sanctuary to sit in a circular formation on the floor. The lights are off or dimmed. After everyone is seated, there is usually a reading to light the chalice, which is in the center of the circle.
Next comes what I have heard called the “tofu” of the worship—like “meat and potatoes”, but we’re vegan friendly here. It’s what would be a sermon, but a worship is not a normal church service. There is so much room for creativity here. Sometimes, the tofu is an exercise known as a power shuffle—a variety of questions are asked, and each individual “shuffles” to the place in the room that best represents their answer—one side of the room is “yes” and one “no”, or you can stand anywhere in between. At Wintercon this year, I helped lead a worship where we read to the group a children’s book that was deceptively meaningful. A favorite kind of worship for everyone is an angel wash—everyone lines up into two circles, with the inner circle facing the outer, and one by one everyone walks through the ring of people with their eyes closed, placing their trust in those around them to guide them through. When a person walks through, they’re hugged, people whisper in their ears, tell them they’re loved. Anyone who’s been to a con with me knows that I always come out of angel washes crying, both for what is said to me and for what I say to other people.
Worships often include sharing—everyone lies on the floor and, like the Quakers, speak when the spirit moves them. In a guided meditation at Summercon 2003, we were led to a box and invited to relate what was in that box. In people’s boxes were symbols for love, courage, and social action, among other things. At the Leadership Development Con in 2004, we were invited to share where we would go, what we would do, if we could turn back time and get back an hour of our lives. When someone shared what they would do, the worship leader would literally turn back the time on a clock he carried around to each speaker. At a con at the Arlington church last year, the Friday night worship was about moving on, getting on a new train, heading to a new station. It was planned with Eric Torelli in mind, someone who would soon be turning 22, therefore “aging out” of YRUU. The worship had special meaning for everyone, even those who didn’t know Eric or know that it was about him. In worships where sharing is the focus, everyone is able to share something about their life, if they wish, making it a personal experience for each and every participant.
Worships can end with songs or with words, or both. My favorite ending to a worship was at Fallcon 2003. In the middle of the sanctuary sat four youth with drums. Somebody started the group singing a song, and everyone got up to dance around the drummers, forming conga lines and jumping up and down and holding hands and running and reveling in the rhythm and the shared bond that nobody could quite put into words. This chant is used frequently as an energetic and uplifting way to end a worship, and, if nobody minds, I’m gonna do the Reverend Lou thing and sing it to you.
We are rising up
Like a phoenix from the fire
So, brothers and sisters,
Spread your wings and fly higher
A good worship connects and involves everyone deeply within the con community, no matter whether you’re a newbie or a veteran. When I was new to cons, worships were what tied me to the group, even to those who I knew I wouldn’t ever get to know very well. Now that I’ve been going to cons for two years, worships keep me connected to the wonderfully religious mixture of people known as the con community, and they remind me to keep this beautiful magic alive for the endless flow of new youth coming in, youth who don’t quite know what they’re becoming a part of.
And now, it doesn’t seem to matter to me that much that we call them worships.