A sermon by the Rev. Daniel Schatz, delivered at BuxMont Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, September 18, 2005

A Unitarian Universalist Culture of Life

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.  And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.  It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  

Love never ends.  But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.  For we know only in part, and we prophecy only in part....  Now we see in a mirror, dimly.... now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.  

- I Corinthians: 13:1-13, excerpted 

In March of this year, a young woman lay dying in a hospice bed in Pinellas Park, Florida.  The victim of a heart attack and stroke – probably brought on by the effects of anorexia and Bulimia, Terri Schiavo had been – according to her physicians – in a persistent vegetative state for over 15 years.  Although she appeared awake, she could not think, interact, eat, drink, or communicate in any way.  The bulk of her brain had been destroyed. 

In any other era, Terri Schiavo would have died after a few days.  In this day we have the ability to provide nutrition and water to people who cannot eat and drink – a blessing for thousands who stay alive this way, when it is their wish to do so.  Ms. Schiavo, however, did not wish to live this way, if her husband and closest friends are to be believed.  She had no quality of life and could never recover.  Her husband determined that the best course was to remove the feeding tube and water, allowing her kidneys to shut down and Ms. Schiavo to die a peaceful, gentle and painless death. 

I have seen this kind of decision made dozens of times in hospitals, hospices and homes.  It is a painful and tragic decision to make, whether or not there is a living will involved.  The loss is all but impossible to bear.  The families I worked with dealt with it in different ways – some continued artificial supports; others discontinued them.  But for all the people I have known and ministered with in the middle of this kind of loss, I never saw a decision that was not made in love. 

Conflict in the family always makes things more difficult, and there was plenty of conflict in Ms. Schiavo’s family.  When the courts agreed with the decision to remove the feeding tube, her parents turned to the media.  By last Spring, they had managed to garner the support of Operation Rescue, the governor and legislature of Florida, the Roman Catholic Church, the majority of the United States Congress, and the President of the United States in their campaign to “save their daughter from murder.”

Many spoke in terms of a “culture of life.”  “I urge those who honor Terry Schiavo,” said the President, “to continue to work to build a culture of life where all Americans are welcomed and valued and protected.”  Congressmen Sensenbrenner echoed the sentiment, “In our public actions, we must build a culture of life that welcomes and defends all human life." 

As they debated in congress, children of the poor suffered from malnutrition and asthma.  Towns and cities near toxic waste dumps experienced high mortality rates from cancer.  Civilians died in Iraqi battles.  Millions struggled with no health insurance.  Women and men died from preventable diseases.  Watching all of the grandstanding late into the night, I could not help but wonder, “Where is the culture of life for these people?” 

Where is the culture of life for babies born to poverty?  Do they have a right to be born but no right to be fed or to adequate healthcare?  Where is the culture of life for the homeless who die an undignified death in the cold on the street?  Do they have a right to be kept on life sustaining treatments in death, but not to basic food and shelter in life?  Where is the culture of life for an environment grown increasingly poisoned? 

And I heard in my mind the words of a prophet, spoken with so much love so many years ago,  “I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you gave me no clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

Where is the culture of life for the least of these? 

What could all of those people who spent so much time consumed with a desire to “save Terri” – what could all of those people have done for the hungry and the thirsty and the ailing of the world?  What could they have done for one homeless family three blocks away? 

But “the culture of life” is rarely used this way.  Instead the phrase has become shorthand for a set of opinions on abortion, euthanasia, marriage and other issues.  Although Pope Jean Paul II emphasized nonviolence, justice, human rights, and care for the environment along with his principle focus on abortion and euthanasia when he coined the phrase in a 1995 encyclical, these other aspects of life – for the living – have been largely ignored.  We are told that those who agree with a conservative Christian agenda are part of a culture of life; those who do not are part of the culture of death. 

Unitarian Universalists may be, in the minds of some, among the worst offenders.  We support equal marriage rights for lesbian and gay couples.  We do not go out of our way to condemn euthanasia, and generally support the right of patients to refuse life-prolonging treatment.  Most of us – though by no means all – are pro-choice in the question of abortion.  It is hardly a record that would get us accepted into anyone’s “Traditional Values Coalition.” 

Yet I believe that we embody a truer and deeper culture of life – one of spirit, of love of compassion – one that is both deeper and more spiritually based than the political rantings of the religious right.  Our culture of life is not a set of positions on issues – as much as we love to take positions – but instead a spiritual understanding rooted in love and compassion.  It is not punitive, but welcoming.  It is not absolutist, but open.  It is not arrogant, but giving.  It does not cast down, but lifts up. 

I have always found it ironic that those who most loudly trumpet the word “life” are people of faith who apparently define life only in biological terms.  The value of life, in such an ethic, is in the existence of a cell.  As Unitarian Universalists, we certainly respect greatly the guidance of science, but we know better than to stop there.  We recognize the importance of human dignity and self-determination.  We realize that when a life is brought into the world, our responsibility does not end, but has only begun.  We realize that the end of life is always a sacred time and that decisions made out of love deserve respect even when we disagree with them. 

Our culture of life is a culture of love.  Our theologies rarely look to a creator who stands outside life making it all happen – instead more of us see life itself as sacred, and the divine as part of – or all of – life.  Our culture of life calls us to embrace the divinity of all life by heeding the calls of justice and compassion. 

Sadly, compassion is too often lacking in the public debate over questions of life and death.  It is far too easy for people on either side of an issue to forget how difficult the questions and dilemmas can be.  We owe it to ourselves and to one another to ask these questions and struggle with the dilemmas. 

The question of abortion is particularly important to many of us.  I have sometimes been asked if it is possible to be pro-life – or anti-choice, depending on one’s terminology – in a Unitarian Universalist congregation.  My answer has always been an emphatic yes – and if the answer is ever “no,” then we are not living up to our ideals.  There are persuasive arguments that it is wrong to end a potential innocent human life, just as there are persuasive arguments that it is wrong to force a woman to undergo tremendous changes to her body, terrible pain, and potentially to risk her own life and livelihood for a child she does not wish to bear.  Many pro-life positions have a great deal of integrity to them, and as religious liberals it is incumbent upon us to respect that integrity.  Abortion is such a difficult issue precisely because it involves conflicting values – the sanctity of life versus the sanctity of one’s own body.  This is why so many of us draw a distinction between being “pro-abortion” and “pro-choice.” 

Whatever we decide about abortion and choice, I hope the decision is not an easy one.  These are difficult issues that deserve to be worked through with care and thoughtfulness.  Indeed, I believe those who are most thoughtful about the issue of choice – on each side of the debate – have a great deal more in common with each other than with those who ostensibly agree with them but give no thought at all before voicing an opinion.

Unfortunately many who argue about abortion do not think about it carefully.  For some “a culture of life” has become less about saving unborn babies than exercising control over women and sexuality.  There is nothing about life in such crusades, no matter what position they ultimately come to.  While I have great respect for many anti-abortion positions, I shudder at the hypocrisy of those who loudly campaign to outlaw abortions – while simultaneously supporting policies that make abortions more likely.  When birth control is not easily accessible and when sexuality education fails to give real information the rates of unwanted pregnancies rise.  I have seen too many women become desperate enough to seek abortions even while believing in their hearts it was absolutely wrong.  How could a true “culture of life” do that to anyone?

Yet while the debate continues in absolutes, reality is seldom clear.  Some bad situations will never yield good solutions.  Eileen Moeller captured the pain and tenderness when she wrote:

    Had you been born

I would have stayed a child

squinting through my mother’s

steamy windows, barely visible

over the sill....

and here I am now

still carrying you

a question mark curled asleep

in the keening dark of my mouth

a seed unspoken.....

 As a Unitarian Universalist, my heart is filled with compassion for a woman who faced a difficult decision, who may never know whether or not it was the right choice – if there was a right choice – but who will forever be condemned to the scorn of millions who.

 How does a Unitarian Universalist culture of life guide us?  We who define life spiritually ask how we might come to the aid of one who is pain.  Letting go of whether or not we support her decision, we ask how we can support her in her pain and her grief.  How can we provide for the spirit of one who is suffering? 

These questions of compassion are central to our culture of life.  They help to guide us through the difficult decisions at the end of life as much as the beginning.  They call us to honor people more than we honor positions, to acknowledge the difficult feelings of grief and guilt when they are present, to ask how we can best honor the spirit of life.

Our culture of life asks more than that.  It guides us not only when we are born and when we die, but also as we live.  Our culture of life recognizes that there will always be differences among people – different perceptions of truth – but as we speak our truths, we must speak in the spirit of love, humility and compassion.

 The spirit of love and compassion is also a spirit of justice – justice for those who live in poverty, justice for those who face violence in the home or in neighborhoods, justice for those who are denied a decent education.  Our spirit of love and compassion calls us to question decisions to go to war when we feel they are made lightly.  Our spirit of love and compassion calls us to bind up the broken of this world and begin the work of healing.

It will not be an easy task, and none of us is expected to solve all the problems or have all the answers.  What we need to answer is the call of life’s spirit of love, compassion and justice.  It calls us.  It calls us to pay attention to human beings who suffer.  It calls us to be with  the hungry, the oppressed, the ailing and the grieving.  It calls us to reach out with a generous spirit – to volunteer some of our money and a little time.  It calls us to open hearts along with minds, and hands along with hearts.  It calls us to honor the inherent dignity of every person.

There is so much beauty in the people of this world.  When we go beyond the barriers that divide us – whether those barriers be of class, race, religion, opinion, sexual orientation, life-situation or anything else – when we listen to the stories of others, when we respond with understanding and compassion for the souls we encounter, when we teach ourselves to think of no human being as beneath us, when we learn from those to whom we would minister – how much more beauty will we have let into our lives?  How much more goodness will fill our days?  How much more will we create a true culture of life?  How much more will we have done for the least of these? 

The questions may not have simple answers, yet love and compassion will always lead us, as with integrity we reach toward the spirit of life.

Go out into the highways and byways.  Give the people something of your new vision.

You may possess a small light, but uncover it, let it shine, use it in order to bring more light and understanding to the hearts and minds of men and women.  Give them not hell, but hope and courage; preach the kindness and everlasting love of God.

- John Murray