First Parish Unitarian UniversalistOur Spin on Sin
A two-part sermon by the Reverend Diane D. Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
September 16, 2007
Part One
Poor Bob Kraft, owner of the Patriots, whose coach was discredited and team penalized for videotaping a competitor’s defense signals. The Globe reported yesterday that Mr. Kraft’s rabbi suggested to her congregation on Rosh Hashanah, that they review their past year as if God is watching or…as if they are being videotaped!
Can you believe she said that, with Kraft there, in the pews?! Then she even illustrated her point with a reference to former major leaguer Cal Ripken, who, according to the rabbi, was a paragon of virtue in an “era of sports scandal.” The Globe reporter wrote, “She must have had her head stuck in a giant blintz for the last week! The guy sitting next to my dad leaned over and whispered, ‘Does she even know Bob Kraft goes to this temple?’ Apparently, “a hefty portion of the congregation craned their necks to look over to Kraft’s pew!” [“Kraft gets a replay of tape controversy at temple,” Globe, September 15, 2007, p. B-8].
It reminds me of a story by the psychiatrist Karl Menninger in his book Whatever Became of Sin, which I saw quoted in a colleague’s sermon [Suzelle Lynch, “The Gift of Sin,” Quest, September 2007].
On a sunny day in September… a stern-faced, plainly dressed man could be seen standing still on a street corner in the busy Chicago Loop. As pedestrians hurried by on their way to lunch or business, he would solemnly lift his right arm, and pointing to the person nearest him, intone loudly… “GUILTY!”
…Without any change of expression, he would resume his stiff stance for a few moments … (and) then, again, the inexorable raising of his arm, the pointing, and the solemn pronouncing of the one word, “GUILTY!”
The effect of this strange pantomime on the passing strangers was extraordinary… They would stare at him, hesitate, look at each other, look back at him again; then hurriedly continue on their ways.
One man, turning to another … (was heard to) exclaim “But how did he know?”
Unlike Coach Bill Belichick or, by association, Bob Kraft, most of us don’t have to worry about our misdeeds becoming public knowledge. Well, I almost did, this past week, when (after a close call in the First Parish parking lot) I imagined the headline in the local paper, “Minister Runs Down Toddler on First Day of School.”
But, every one of us would have something to regret if the man in Chicago pointed his finger at us and pronounced, “Guilty!”
That’s the beauty of this time in the Jewish Year--Rosh Hashanah, which ended at sundown on Friday, and these Days of Awe we’re in now, until Yom Kippur which begins this Friday night. Everyone, it is assumed, has something to regret and for which to atone. And, everyone who does forthrightly confess and atone for their wrong-doings, will experience relief and release. In a little while, Megan will be leading us in a Rosh Hashanah ritual [tashlich] in which we will enact that movement from confession and atonement to relief and release.
One of the prayers recited, recurrently, on Yom Kippur in what is their longest service of the year, engages the congregation in confession of a long list of sins committed during the previous year. I’ve read that they include things like “wronging others, deriding parents and teachers, using foul speech, being dishonest, and gossiping.” These sins are confessed to collectively as in “We confess…” even though it’s unlikely that any one worshiper actually committed all of them. “The idea is that each Jew bears a certain measure of responsibility for sins committed by other Jews.” [Jewish Literacy by Rabbi Joseph Teluskin, p. 628].
I want to return to and consider further this idea of collective responsibility in the second part of this sermon. But for now I want us to ponder one more thing about this process of atonement going on now among Jews around the world, including those of us here who honor that tradition.
And that one thing is this: that no amount of worship, no amount of prayer, no amount of atoning, wins forgiveness for all sins. The only sins forgiven on Yom Kippur are those committed against God, such as breaking promises. Wrongdoings against other people are not forgiven until one appeases those other people. And, as Rabbi Joseph Telushkin explains in his tome Jewish Literacy, “If one has injured or offended another person, one is obliged to request forgiveness sincerely. Even if the request is refused initially, at least two more attempts at reconciliation should be made. Unless the offense was extreme or inflicted irrevocable damage, the rabbis regard as cruel one who withholds forgiveness even after three sincere requests.” [p. 627].
Last year at this time, I received a thank you note which I surmised was written as part of my friend’s religious observance of the High Holy Days. It was the longest, most heartfelt thank you note I’ve ever received. I could tell it was written from a deep place, of contriteness for not thanking me sooner and of gratitude for our taking in as a long-term house-guest her brother who’d been having a hard time in life. We had helped him, I knew, but in exchange for the hospitality, he had turned over my vegetable garden, repaired our long-broken front steps, replaced one missing and several badly stained ceiling tiles in the kitchen, and fixed the front door so we wouldn’t have to slam it to get it to shut. By the end of the visit, I’d thought we’d fared quite well! And I never expected a thank you note from her. She, obviously, felt guilty for not thanking us sooner.
Maybe she’d met that man on the street in Chicago! “Guilty!” No, I think she wanted to have a clean slate come Yom Kippur.
Now, you might be wondering why I called this sermon “Our Spin on Sin” when so far I have limited our attention to the Jewish take on it. Well, we have our roots in Judaism.
And then in Christianity. Now that tradition doesn’t have an annual occasion for repenting of sins. And its methods of atonement vary widely among its various branches—Roman Catholic, Calvinist, Lutheran, etc. But, I think it would be widely accepted among many Christians, unlike Jews, that one should forgive even the extreme offense. After all, it was Jesus who advised to “turn the other cheek.” And to “forgive seventy times seven.” And who famously said of those who brought about his death, “Forgive them for they know not what they do.”
One of the most revered retired Unitarian Universalist ministers in the area is Carl Scovel, minister emeritus of King’s Chapel, a UU Christian church in downtown Boston. He says in his article “The Gift of Forgiveness” that in forgiving someone we do not deny, excuse, or forget the wrongdoing against us. Rather, asking for forgiveness from someone is a gift we give to ourselves. He writes,
“When we forgive [someone], we are freed, not from the hurt, but from the dominating power of the hurt. We are able to give up our anger. The hurt and wrath no longer direct us… We may still suffer the consequences of the offense, but the offense no longer masters us…we, the aggrieved, are free.” [Quest, September 2007].
This suggests, then, at least part of our Unitarian Universalist spin on sin: that sin inhibits wholeness and freedom, of both the offender and the offended. That a “free and responsible search for truth and meaning” involves both seeking forgiveness for the sins we commit against others and forgiving others when they ask pardon for their wrongdoings against us. Both acts—the asking for and the giving of forgiveness—lead us to greater wholeness and leave us freer—relief and release— to live life to its fullest, freer to love and be loved, freer to do the work of peace and justice in the world.
Tashlich ritual
Offertory
Part Two
*If our roots are in Judaism and Christianity, then our faith tradition is like a tree that has two trunks growing from those roots, one Unitarian and the other Universalist. Each contributes something unique to our contemporary spin on sin. (The tree analogy doesn’t work well in the long run, though, because in 1961 the two denominations consolidated, as did the Unitarian and Universalist congregations in Canton in 1974—while we often see a tree that has two trunks, I can’t think of ever seeing a twin-trunked tree whose two trunks merged higher up in the tree!)
But, analogy aside, the Universalists believed in universal salvation—that God was too good to damn anyone, no matter their sins in this life—in other words, no hell. And the Unitarians believed that humans are born good, that if we go astray it is culture that leads us astray, and that we can improve our characters by our own effort-- no predestination and no original sin.
In A Chosen Faith: An Introduction to Unitarian Universalism, the book I recommend to newcomers to First Parish (now on sale in the Parish Hall), Rev. Forrest Church explains the spin on sin of these two religions in coming together: “The problem is that even as a theology based upon evil and sinfulness tends to stint on goodness, one based upon goodness maybe equally obtuse when it comes to evil and sin. Too much mercy can squeeze out justice; and too much attention to our better nature can blind us to the awesome human capacity for evil.” [p. 43].*
So, on a personal level, ‘fessing up to our sins and forgiving others for theirs if they ask are seen as spiritually-grounding acts in our Unitarian Universalist spin on sin.
But, what about the public level? What about collective atonement for public sins?
Although I am not a football fan, I think that the Patriots team and its fans will experience relief and release because of Bob Kraft’s public statement of remorse and his acceptance of the punishments meted out against the coach and the team.
Although I am not a South African, I understand that both blacks and whites there have experienced relief and release in the way the Truth and Reconciliation Commission has made it possible for people to ask for and grant forgiveness for the atrocities committed during apartheid and the freedom struggle there.
I am however an American. And, oh how I long to experience relief and release in regard to the sin of my country’s invasion and occupation of Iraq.
I dream we will confess our wrong doing. I dream we will ask the Iraqis for, and be given, forgiveness for the evil we’ve done and the nightmare of chaos, destruction, death, and displacement we’ve caused. I dream that we will atone. I dream of us then all living life to its fullest, freer to love and be loved, freer to do the true work of peace and justice in the world.
On that day we will, indeed, begin a sweet new year.
As they say on Rosh Hashanah, serving apples dipped in honey, “L'shanah tovah.”