by Rev. Terry Davis
Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation on September 20, 2015
The Pope is coming! The Pope is coming!
Whether or not you’re Catholic, I think it’s safe to say that Pope Francis’s scheduled visit to the U.S. this coming week is a big deal.
If it’s not enough that he’s the spiritual leader of a church that’s 2,000 years old with 1.2 billion members, this pope has also become something of a rock star. His humility, his kindness, and his unwavering support of the world’s most vulnerable – especially the poorest of the poor and our fragile and suffering planet – have won him fans across nations and across faith traditions.
Starting on Tuesday, Pope Francis will meet with President Obama in Washington, DC. He’ll speak before a joint meeting of Congress, the first pope ever to do so. He’ll visit the 9/11 memorial in Manhattan, where he’ll meet with first responders, survivors, and the families of victims. He’ll meet with 100 inmates at a Philadelphia correctional facility – the largest prison ever operated by that city.
Throughout his three-city tour, Pope Francis is scheduled to lead mass at basilicas and cathedrals. He’ll ride the popemobile through streets and parks. And, he’ll meet with countless people of all ages and from all walks of life, including children, homeless persons, immigrants, and the poor.
Despite his popularity and influence, for many Pope Francis still manages to come across as an unassuming guy. For example, when first arriving to the Vatican, he opted to live in a modest two-bedroom guesthouse instead of the palatial quarters typically used by the Pope. He’s known to travel to appointments in a small Ford Focus. He posts daily Tweets on his Twitter account – with the help of his secretary – to more than 20 million followers.
He wears a plastic watch.
And recently, Pope Francis remarked that his only complaint about being the Pope is that he can’t anonymously slip out to get a pizza like he used to do when he was merely a Cardinal.
Pope Francis seems to have entered his calling with the understanding that he cannot afford to get swept up in the splendor and fuss that go along with his role. He seems to understand that, in order to serve the God of his faith well, he must remain close in lifestyle and spirit to the people he’s also dedicated to serve.
Pope Francis also seems to understand his role as a reformer. He is boldly confronting corruption as he sees it – not just out there in the world, but inside the domain of the Catholic Church and the walls of the Vatican.
A recent article noted that Pope Francis has:
. . . consistently attacked capital cronyism and greed. He challenges Monsanto science and supports funding independent research to study the dangers of GMOs and pesticides. He has challenged global leaders to ensure humanity is served by wealth, not ruled by it.
He has apologized to those sexually abused by Catholic priests andbegged to be forgiven for crimes committed against Native Americans in the name of God. He labeled the military-industrial-complex the industry of death. He believes parents of gay children should stand by them and when asked about LGBT rights he responded “Who am I to judge?”
These bold statements by the Pope to business and government leaders – and even to the Catholic Church itself – can be characterized as “speaking truth to power.”
Speaking truth to power. This phrase is one that was coined in the 1950s by the Quakers. It was featured in a seminal pamphlet entitled “Speak Truth to Power: A Quaker Search for an Alternative to Violence.” It was their response to war and an invitation to embrace pacifism.
Today, the expression is more broadly understood as standing up to people and institutions in power and calling them out on ugly truths about their oppressive behavior.
Speaking truth to power. Despite the phrase’s 20th century origins, it’s something that’s been going on throughout history. It’s thought to be a characteristic of men and women we call prophets . . . people like those Elizabeth mentioned in this morning’s Story Wisdom . . . and people, we might say, like Pope Francis.
In Hannah’s Reflection today, she noted that people who are prophets also prophesy, which is defined as predicting the future . . . and which can also be perceived as a form of control.
While this may make us uneasy about some prophets, I also believe prophets invite us to do what Hannah suggests is needed for our own growth and transformation: they encourage us to discover and speak our truth in a way that others, in turn, can see their own.
Prophets like Pope Francis are grounded in the reality and the suffering of the here and now . . . and they envision and speak of a world transformed by radical love. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream Speech” is a perfect example of another modern-day prophet laying out his vision of a future that is healed and transformed . . . one where persons of all colors and in every state are united and free.
Keeping this definition of prophets in mind, I would like us this morning to consider the possibility that each of us has an inner prophet. If the word “prophet” drips too heavily with religious overtones for your taste, I invite you then to think about the possibility that you may have an inner truth-teller . . . an ethical activist deep within you who, when needed and with encouragement, can bravely step up and name the truth about oppression.
As people who are intentionally pursuing a life guided by moral principles and our individual understandings of the sacred, I suspect that it’s hard for many of us here not to feel anger or frustration at the pain and suffering we see and read about in the world.
The migration crisis in Europe has gotten my attention. My heart grows heavy as I read about the tens of thousands of tired and desperate persons seeking refuge from violence and destruction in their homelands, only to be pummeled at some borders with tear gas and water cannons. How will nations make room for so many people? And, what’s the best way to confront the corruption and violence that ignited their mass exodus in the first place?
These are hard questions with no easy answers. And, yet, when I ask myself “What can I do about it?” . . . it seems that my best answer is telling me to begin with claiming my own inner prophet.
For me, this business of claiming my inner prophet has been a long and ongoing process . . . and without a doubt the most significant aspect of my spiritual journey. I remember talking once to an older, more experienced minister about going into congregational ministry. He asked me, “What do you hope to gain by doing this? And don’t tell me the usual ‘to help people and change the world.’ What else motivates you?”
I thought about his question for a minute and then it came to me, “I hope to find my voice,” I responded.
At the time when I said this, I was thinking mostly about my reluctance to tell people in my personal and business life the truth if it meant they might get angry with or disapprove of me.
That habit –telling people what they wanted to hear or avoiding discussions that might reveal my opposing views – is deeply rooted in my childhood. Growing up, I learned how to be the good student, the good girl, the responsible one in order to minimize the possibility that someone’s anger might come hurling my way. I operated for many years with the objective of getting along with as many people as possible and winning their approval.
That approach to life has mostly helped me avoid conflicts and making enemies. But, it was also a recipe for a mental meltdown, which is exactly what occurred for me by the time I reached my early 30s.
One thing that has saved me from that life of dishonest behavior has been this faith. Years of therapy and other support have helped too. But, it’s been in Unitarian Universalism that I’ve found my companions and my coaches for my journey of change. I’ve found a community of others who seek a place where they can not only authentically express their faith, but also speak their truth.
As Hannah said, “We have the ability to guide and bear witness to each other and lead each other into layers of life that we could never have accessed working alone.”
And, isn’t that a big part of what we need to be doing here – help each other change and grow? Being a community that is welcoming and kind is of course important. And, a healthy community also needs to regularly challenge its status quo if it is to live into its fullest potential.
This past June at the Unitarian Universalist Association’s annual General Assembly in Portland, Oregon, delegates from all our member congregations voted to support the Black Lives Matter movement. We did this by adopting something we call an Action of Immediate Witness, or AIW. An Action of Immediate Witness is our religious movement’s way of expressing the conscience and authority of the Assembly’s delegates around an issue that they feel passionate about.
In other words, it’s a way that we collectively and intentionally speak truth to power.
The steps leading up to deciding whether or not to make support of Black Lives Matter an Action of Immediate Witness included organizing and facilitating discussions among delegates at the Assembly, crafting proposed statements, signing petitions, engaging in debates, and finally bringing the proposed AIW to the Assembly floor for a vote.
This was not an easy process. Emotions ran high. An article in the most recent issue of the Unitarian Universalist magazine World provided a summary of the struggle. The authors wrote:
Before they raised their voting cards in an overwhelming show of support for the [Action of Immediate Witness], delegates spent nearly two hours in a frustrating parliamentary process that left many feeling hurt. The debate aimed at clarifying the meaning of “prison abolition” in the draft AIW, which the Youth Caucus had written.
Ultimately, the delegates voted to suspend the rules long enough to allow an amendment that defined the term, even as some people of color and members of the Youth Caucus were talking about withdrawing support or leaving the hall.
As passed, the Action of Immediate Witness urges UUs to “work towards police reform and prison abolition, which seeks to replace the current prison system with a system that is more just and equitable.” After the final vote, delegates chanted “Black lives matter! Black lives matter!”
A short time later, 200 people left the plenary hall for an unauthorized rally and die-in with local activists that briefly shut down a traffic intersection outside the convention center.[ref] “Rejoice and Struggle: An intense UUA General Assembly celebrates marriage equality, affirms Black Lives Matter,” by Elaine McArdle and Christopher L. Walton, UU World, Fall 2015, 29 – 30.[/ref]
This decision to affirm the Black Lives Matter movement at General Assembly is a vivid and recent example of how we as a faith movement can collectively speak truth to powerful systems that keep racial injustice so firmly in place in our society.
And, soon after General Assembly, I also discovered that this Action of Immediate Witness was a personal invitation to find and speak my own truth in my own words on this issue.
The opportunity to speak my truth came up during a recent conversation I had with someone. The person brought up the Black Lives Matter movement and said, “I get so tired of hearing ‘Black Lives Matter.’ Black lives aren’t the only lives that matter. All lives matter.”
I was taken aback by his comment. And, in those few seconds, I couldn’t find my voice. In that moment, I couldn’t summon the right words to tell him what I thought of his response and why. We were at the end of our conversation, and so he left before I could recover from my fumble.
I remember feeling shame that I let the opportunity slip away. I’ve not seen this person since to tell him my thoughts.
I’ve reflected on this encounter almost every day since. And, I’ve only recently found the right words – my words, my truth – that I’ll say when we meet again.
I can imagine the conversation going something like this:
Alfred (not his real name), when you said “all lives matter” in response to “Black Lives Matter,” I felt deeply troubled. To advocate for the lives of a specific group isn’t saying that other lives don’t matter.
To say “all lives matter” in response to “Black Lives Matter” is equivalent to erasing the pain and suffering the black community feels.
To say “all lives matter” in response to “Black Lives Matter” dismisses the injustices that are rampant in our criminal justice system.
To say “all lives matter” in response to “Black Lives Matter” is stating the obvious.
Alfred, what isn’t obvious to many white Americans – people like you and me who still hold the social, economic and political power in our country – is that black men, women and children are STILL being treated with violence or with indifference.
And, Alfred, that has to stop . . . which is why I believe we must say “Black Lives Matter.”
As I said earlier, claiming my inner prophet is a journey. You are helping me. We can help each other.
As we go from here, let’s consider the reality that the only change we are likely to see in our world around violence, racism, poverty, climate change, and other oppressions begins not just with people like Pope Francis speaking the truth to power.
It must include us, too.
Let’s go from here committed to claiming our inner prophets. Let’s use this spiritual journey together to seek our truth and to find the courage to say it and act upon it.
As Hannah said so well, together we have the ability to guide and bear witness to each other and lead each other into layers of life that we could never have accessed working alone.
May it be so. Amen.
(Image credit: “Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes“–Maggie Kuhn. Cringle Park, Levenshulme, Manchester by Duncan Hill.)