Something for Everybody:
What Universalism can learn from Catholicism

by Rev. Jonathan "Jack" Prykop
presented at the Channing-Murray Foundation
November 20th, 2005

(Jump down to sermon)

Reading: from "The Catholic Imagination" by Andrew Greeley

Catholic devotions include...Mary the mother of Jesus, angels and saints, souls in purgatory, statues, stained-glass windows, holy water, religious medals [and] candles. Most other Christian denominations do not engage in such devotions. Indeed, they dismiss them as superstition and perhaps idolatry. It is not my intention to defend Catholic devotional practices but rather to show that they illustrate how the Catholic religious imagination differs from the Protestant religious imagination.

The fundamental insight which guides this exploration comes from the work of David Tracy, especially his [book] "Analogical Imagination." Tracy noted that the classic works of Catholic theologians and artists tend to emphasize the presence of God in the world, while the classic works of Protestant theologians tend to emphasize the absence of God from the world. The Catholic writers stress the nearness of God to His creation, the Protestant writers the distance between God and His creation; the Protestants emphasize the risk of superstition and idolatry, the Catholics the dangers of a creation in which God is only marginally present. Or, to put the matter in different terms, Catholics tend to accentuate the immanence of God, Protestants the transcendance of God.

[Tracy calls the Catholic imagination "Analogical" and the Protestant imagination "Dialectical" because the former says "God is like..." and the latter says "God is not like..."]

The Catholic imagination in all its many manifestations...tends to emphasize the metaphorical nature of creation. The objects, events, and persons of ordinary existence hint at the nature of God and indeed make God in some fashion present to us. God is sufficiently like creation that creation not only tells us something about God but, by so doing, also makes God present among us. Everything in creation, from the exploding cosmos to the whirling, dancing and utterly mysterious quantum particles, discloses something about God and, in so doing, brings God among us.


Something for Everybody: What Universalism can learn from Catholicism

I am a Universalist.

I'd like to begin today by talking a bit about what that means.

I could put this into my own words, but in the interests of swiftly establishing common ground, let me instead use our words--the words of a covenant found in the back of the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, attributed to Keshab Chandra Sen and arranged by Unitarian Universalist John Haynes Holmes, entitled "Unto the Church Universal":

Unto the church universal, which is the depository of all ancient wisdom and the school of all modern thought;
Which recognizes in all prophets a harmony, in all scriptures a unity,
  and through all dispensations a continuity;
Which abjures all that separates and divides,
  and always magnifies all that unifies and brings peace;
Which seeks truth in freedom, justice in love,
  and individual discipline in social duty;
And which shall make of all sects, classes, nations, and races,
  one global community;
Unto this church and unto all its members,
  known and unknown throughout the world,
We pledge the allegiance of our hands and hearts.

I take this pledge seriously. The Church Universal is the Church I devote myself to, the Church that ordains me and the Church that sustains me, both as a minister and as a human in need.

The Church Universal is the church I am building.

Presuming that this pledge is a representative, if non-binding description of goals shared by those of us gathered today, the Channing-Murray Foundation, and the Unitarian Universalist Association as a whole, I call us now to contemplate:

What can we do to better build a Universal Church, and not merely another denomination? How can we ensure that the walls of this building are there only to keep out the cold and not to separate us from the rest of the world?

It is not an easy task. Human beings are far too inclined to congregate with folks similar to themselves and abjure those who think and act differently, taking global community and making of it sects, classes, nations and races. It takes wisdom and intention to overcome this inclination. Which brings me to Catholicism.

Let's recognize the irony right off the bat. One of the many reasons I'm standing at this pulpit today and not at the lectern of a Roman Catholic church is that I'd likely be excommunicated were I to practice my vocation under their auspices. I'd be kicked out of their supposedly Universal church. For one, I'm an out and proud homosexual; for another, I've declared myself Pope. And while there have been plenty of radically liberal Catholic priests who have lived their whole lives without being excommunicated, I decided to preemptively avoid the risk of heartbreak and rejection by seeking out the most accepting religious institution I could find. Therefore, I do not intend to hold up Roman Catholicism as the paragon of Universalism.

And yet, I think we here today have much to learn from Catholicism. As I said in the flyer for this sermon, the word catholic literally means universal. Historically, Roman Catholicism has aspired to be just that, and say what you will about their failures, I want to tell you what I've seen of their successes. I spent the first twenty-one years of my life as an enthusiastically active Catholic. My mother is a Director of Religious Education at a Catholic church, and I grew up fully exposed to how religion is produced behind-the-scenes by people whose values and interests are not so different from our own.

In college, I attended DePaul University in Chicago, where I studied the local Catholic culture in detail, visiting several churches and seeing the diversity firsthand.

I visited a liberal church on the north side, an old domed cathedral whose walls had been whitewashed by the progressive congregation. They rearranged the pews to create a circle around a central altar to emphasize the community of humans, rather than the worship of artifacts. They were an educated and empowered community, taking their religion the direction they wanted it to go.

I visited a similarly domed cathedral on the west side whose interior remained as ornate as ever. It housed a newly-formed order of priests devoted to preserving the traditions of the church. These folks were seriously old school. They had a room full of "relics", which is what Catholics call the dead body parts of saints, each fingernail and toebone stored in its own uniquely constructed gold-plated display case. These Catholics seemed to obey the Pope unquestioningly, so long as the Pope was being conservative.

I visited an ethnic church on the south side, one that had been built to cater to European immigrants but now housed a Latino community. I saw them present a Good Friday Passion Play that began in the manner of a Christmas Pageant, all homemade costumes and cardboard sets, until we followed Jesus with his cross out the door, processed through the streets behind him, and finally witnessed an eerily realistic crucifixion in 40-degree weather in a park on 18th street, the whole thing presented entirely in Spanish.

I even attended a 100% gay Roman Catholic church, fully sponsored and supported by the Archbishop as part of his "Archdiocesan Gay and Lesbian Outreach" initiative. I found it to be as progressive as any of the other gay church groups back then, and I've been to a lot of gay church groups.

All this diversity, and much more, stems entirely from a single institution. Despite the fact that the folks on the north, west and south sides might tear at each other's throats in any given social or political battle, they nonetheless see themselves as of the same religion, the same denomination, the same Catholic Church.

This is Universalism.

I remember a college professor once quipping about how, at any given protest in Latin America, you could find one Catholic priest blessing the dissidents in the streets, while another Catholic priest blesses the police bearing down on them.

This is a church that can bless the world.

So how do they do it? I sat down and brainstormed the many lessons I had learned as a lifelong witness to the workings of Roman Catholicism, and the list was long. But as I rounded it down, combined list items into more general categories, and looked for a pattern behind the many things I think Catholics do well, I stumbled upon five points that I think can summarize my thoughts. With lighthearted intentions, I call it "The Catholic Method," and I'm excited to share it with you today.

The first step of the Catholic Method is...

TAKE AUTHORITY

Take it like a Pope. Take it like God gave it to you.

I believe Catholics are able to build a worldwide religion because, first and foremost, they believe they're in charge of the world's religion. There's lots of reasons to criticize them for this, especially when they seize political power under the pretense of such authority. And I wouldn't encourage the hierarchies they establish--I believe the authority of the Church Universal resides in each individual. But beneath all the pomp and circumstance of priests, bishops and popes is a quality that I think is essential to leadership in the Universal Church:

Having the balls to think you're a leader of the Universal Church.

Other humans will be able to sense your hesitation like a dog smelling fear. You have to honestly think it's within your power to speak to the spirit of the world.

And of course, with great power comes great responsibility. At the end of the day, taking on authority is not about what you expect from others, but rather what others expect from you. I'm Reverend Jonathan Prykop pretty much because I started calling myself Reverend Jonathan Prykop, but I've found what's really made me a minister has been my slow and awkward attempts to live up to the title. Every mistake is a learning experience, I will always have much to learn, but what's important is the attempt.

When you find your congregation divided on numerous questions of secular and political power, you have to be prepared to assert that they are all accepted in your church, loved by your god, and forgiven for their sins, and you can't do that without a strong sense of authority.

So take authority. It's yours. Lead, and the world shall follow.

Step Two of the Catholic Method is...

THINK ANALOGICALLY

As Andrew Greeley describes in the reading that accompanies this sermon, to think analogically is to think in metaphor, to describe what your religion is like, rather than define yourself by what you are not. Greely caveats his words later in that chapter, clarifying that both analogical and dialectical thinking are necessary for a healthy and balanced religious worldview. I would generally agree with this.

But analogical thought in particular carries with it an appeal lacking in strictly dialectical thought. Some people may enter a church building seeking to define themselves in contrast to the world outside, but most enter church seeking to reestablish their connection to the greater world--indeed, this is essential to the meaning of universal church. The Church Universal must be a place where people can come to have their imaginations enriched by a rainforest of metaphors that speak to the full breadth of human experience.

If we are to be vessels of Universalism, we must expand our canon of symbolism, rather than contract it. We must show how the world is like the stories we tell, rather than how the world is not like the stories others tell. The primary selling point of the UU church may be how different we are than conventional churches--we are not like them. But the strength of the UU tradition can be found in the stories and artwork and poetry we create and collect to express the transcending mystery and wonder of life. We focus on our strengths when we think analogically.

It's not enough to merely talk about the universe, though, which brings us to step three of the Catholic Method...

SACRAMENTIZE YOUR STORY

You may or may not be familiar with the seven major sacraments of Catholicism. They're popularly known as baptism, confession, communion, confirmation, marriage, ordination, and anointing of the sick. They are rites that mark important moments in the lives and spiritual journeys of Catholics. The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines a "sacrament" in general to be a visible sign of the hidden reality of salvation. That is to say, a sacrament is an outward expression of the inner truths of religion.

It's well known that churches are packed on Christmas and Easter, but did you know that the Catholic holy days of Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday also have some of the highest attendance rates? It's because the ritual on those days involves giving people something--on Ash Wednesday, they are marked with ashes on their foreheads, and on Palm Sunday, they are given palm fronds to take home. The tangible and visible symbols offered by Catholicism are the foundation of the religion's appeal.

You see, to think analogically is not enough--it is in ritual expression that our stories become woven into the fabric of our being. As a muscle is strengthened by exercise, so too must our understanding of reality be strengthened by artistic and habitual external expression. Knowing a story is as good as knowing the words to a song, but it's not a song until it's sung.

I'll readily admit, this is one of the toughest parts of religion. Because to administer a sacrament is to immanentize your story, to make it real. If you simply go through the motions of the ritual, it may not work. I've been to many Catholic Masses that have left me bursting with the Holy Spirit and love of God. I've been to many more that have left me as cold and unmoving as stone. To sacramentize, you have to perform the ritual in such a way that it actually alters the hearts and minds of the participants. It takes serious mojo to perform a sacrament.

This is the point at which the hubris of taking authority is humbled by the ability to command authority--this is where practice, patience, and experience enter the picture. And given that the ability to sacramentize can take decades to develop fully, it can take a veritable genius to create a sacrament from whole cloth. Which is why Catholics have always been very good at step four...

STEAL SHAMELESSLY

Good old Christmas and Easter, as popular as they are, both began as pagan holidays. Various representations of and devotions to the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, seem to have their origins in cultural goddess worship long predating Catholicism; this is true of many of the angels and saints as well. As Catholicism spread via conquest during the middle ages, missionaries were encouraged to rededicate the temples they found for Catholic purposes. Wherever Catholics went, they absorbed the mythology they found.

Though I'm not suggesting we take over anyone's temples, I am suggesting we consider the Catholic practice of absorbing traditions into itself. I recall in the Catholic Church I grew up in, our parish began celebrating Passover supper every year, transforming "their" ritual into "our" ritual. I cannot comprehend a Universal Church unable to do this.

Luckily, this seems to be a strong suit for Unitarian Universalists as well. We can't even begin to list the variety of rites and religions practiced by Unitarian Universalists even within these walls without admitting up front that we've left some out. And unlike Catholics, we have no need to change the names and faces of local deities in a desperate attempt to protect the internal consistancy of our preexisting mythology. We accept the diversity of universal religion as it stands, and if we occassionally make refinements to some practices, we hopefully avoid perverting them completely in the eyes of their authors.

Champaign-Urbana itself offers a vibrant diversity of religion--I would not live here if it didn't--and I think all we need to do to improve our own practices is wander from church to church, synagogue to temple, meeting house to mystery school with the intention to embrace every rite we find therein. If we do this, we should be well prepared to achieve the last step of the Catholic Method:

SERVE COMPREHENSIVELY

A universal religion must offer a universe worth of services. For those who seek to know God in research, we must offer support for their education and studies. For those who seek to know God in artistic expression, we must offer the full spectrum of outlets. For those who seek to know God in the mastery of their body, we must show them the paths of discipline they seek. We must offer beliefs to those who wish to believe, and support to those who doubt. For those who despair, we must offer rituals of solace; for those who repent, rituals of forgiveness; for those who celebrate, rituals of joy.

We must be prepared to encounter every perspective on the world. We must speak to leaders and followers, seekers and fundamentalists, those inclined to the abstract and those inclined to the literal. "To everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven," and a Universal Church should accomodate them all.

To offer such a comprehensive religion, to be truly universal, is too much for any one person, church, denomination, or even any one religion--even Roman Catholicism, and even Unitarian Universalism. Which is why, ultimately, underlying all the points I've made today is a goal that in my mind encapsulates the entire endeavor of the Church Universal:

BUILD CHURCH WITHOUT BORDERS

To practice a Universalist religion is to break down the borders between us and them, to no longer say, "This is my religion, what is yours?", but rather to approach all religion as one religion, to feel at home in any church because for you, True Church is everywhere.

It's something you carry with you, rather than something you enter; it's something that surrounds and soaks us all; its authority springs from within us to encompass the universe, as the universe encompasses us.

I expect there will be at least a few folks here who disagree with the specific points of advice I've offered today, and I admit I write my sermons to be somewhat contentious--that's half the fun.

But I hope, in all earnestness, that this vision of a borderless church is communal--that each of you have some understanding of what I mean when I say I seek the Church Universal, and that you seek it, too.

In the discussion period that follows, I invite you to offer questions and criticisms of my ideas, but I also ask the same questions of you that I attempted to answer myself:

What can we do to better build a Universal Church?

How can we ensure that the walls of this building are there only to keep out the cold and not the rest of the world?


Copyright 2005 Jonathan Prykop. You may consider this page Freely Distributable Gospel so long as you include a link to this page, but you must receive the permission of the author before making money off of this work, and please remember that plagarizing or otherwise claiming my work as your own is bad, m'kay?
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