Opening
Rev. Dan Schatz
December 3, 2023

Hearts needed opening. Mindsets needed to change. The ancient Kingdom of Magadha, in what is now India, had given rise to a heartless warlord. Conquering kingdom after kingdom, at last he ascended the throne as Emperor Ashoka, styled Ashoka the Great.

Ashoka’s conquest of Kalinga was the last and most brutal of all. Records state that as many as 250,000 people died, though that’s almost certainly a huge exaggeration. But while we don’t know the true number from so long ago, we do know that something about that war changed the warrior. At some moment, he looked around and saw beyond his ego. For the first time, instead of taking satisfaction from the victory, the Emperor was able to see the suffering he had caused. He saw destruction, devastation, death, and it broke his heart in the way best way possible. He never fought another war from that day on, and as he settled into a different kind of rule, he began to turn towards the relatively young religion of Buddhism.

It was an opening of mind and heart and spirit. It filled him with humility, and for the first time in recorded history, an emperor began to realize that what he wanted and believed and even needed might not be what everyone wanted and believed and needed. As he turned from war to peace, the emperor issued many edicts, but this is the most famous of them all:

“The King, honors… all religions, and he honors them with gifts of various kinds. But the king does not value gifts and honors as much as he values this – that there should be growth in the essentials of all religions. Growth in essentials can be done in different ways, but all of them have as their root restraint in speech, that is, not praising one’s own religion by condemning the religion of others without good cause. And if there is cause for criticism, it should be done in a mild way. But it is better to honor other religions for this reason. By so doing, one’s own religion benefits, and so do other religions, while doing otherwise harms one’s own religion and the religions of others. Whoever praises his own religion, due to excessive devotion, and condemns others with the thought ‘Let me glorify my own religion,’ only harms his own religion. Therefore contact (between religions) is good. One should listen to and respect the doctrines professed by others. The King desires that all should be well-learned in the good doctrines of other religions.”

As I read those words from two thousand three hundred years ago, it kind of blows my mind, because it is one of the clearest expressions of pluralism I have ever heard. Think about what he said and what he could have said. He could have talked about tolerance. The Unitarian King Sigismund in 17^th century Transylvania issued the west’s first edict of religious toleration, and we Unitarian Universalists are justly proud of it. But almost two thousand years before that ever happened Ashoka had already taken it further. He didn’t just put up with other religious; he honored them. He didn’t just honor all religions, he sought for them the opportunity to “grow in their essentials.” He wanted each religion to be the best version of itself that it could be – not his version, not a watered down version, but its own best self. And he realized that in order for that to happen, each religion needed all the others. “Contact between the religions,” he said, “is good.”

He didn’t say every religion is perfect. He made a point that sometimes there might be good reason to criticize, but when criticism is warranted, he said, it should be “mild.” Too often we criticize what we don’t understand, so it is wise to be gentle in our disagreements, and it is wise to look for good in others.

These are the values Unitarian Universalists have come to embrace. One of the things I love the most about our faith is that we understand diversity of belief and spiritual practice makes our religious community stronger. Being around people who don’t always think the way we do helps us grow and deepen in our own beliefs, and if we’re doing it right, opens our minds and hearts to new wisdom, new inspiration, and new truth.

When Unitarian Universalists say “that we are all sacred beings, diverse in culture, experience, and theology,” we emphasize both our common humanity and the diversity of wisdom among us. We “learn from one another in our free and responsible search for truth and meaning.” “We embrace our differences and commonalities with love, curiosity and respect.”

I have to say, these words move me. In my mind, it’s part of what makes us special, because we’re the only religion I know that holds that kind of pluralism as a core value. I want to be clear, we’re not the only religion that emphasizes pluralism – just ask Emperor Ashoka. But for us, embracing diversity in love is right in the center.

That doesn’t mean we always do it well. One of the ways that Unitarian Universalists are a lot like most religious people is that sometimes, we don’t live up to our best ideals. In a recent social media post, UU lay leader Kat Liu said, “My fellow Unitarian Universalists, when you share posts about what (in your view) is wrong with other religions, ironically that is when you remind me the most of other religions. Over and over again,” she said, ‘I think of what my Religious Studies professor taught us…. He said: ‘People tend to judge other people’s religions by the worst of their actions and judge their own religions by the best of their intentions.’ I have found this to be true… any time we create groups of ‘us’ and ‘them.’”

Here’s what Unitarian Universalist pluralism doesn’t mean.

Pluralism doesn’t mean that Unitarian Universalists are better than everybody else. I wish it did, but we are one faith in a very large world. We have our gifts and other faiths have their own. It is good to share our truths and gifts with the world, because there are many who don’t about us and should, but our truths will not be everyone’s truths. We are not immune from the human foibles of tribalism and triumphalism, and let’s face it, pluralism is often easier in theory than in practice.

Pluralism doesn’t mean we believe whatever we want. Our search for truth is free, but it is also responsible. That means we need to consider not only what makes us feel good or comfortable, but also what we can honestly believe is actually true. Now, truth may be in the realm of wisdom and metaphor; it’s not always literal, but it’s worth asking ourselves – do I really believe this, or do I just want to believe this? Not all beliefs are equally valid. But when we encounter beliefs different from our own, pluralism leads us to seek understanding, learning, and growth.

Pluralism doesn’t mean we can say or do whatever we want without consideration of whether it hurts people. How would that even work? We could start insulting and attacking people, or denigrating entire groups of people because of who they are, and it’s okay because “pluralism?” That’s not what that means. Instead we think through the consequences of our beliefs, practices, and actions with regard to both our well being and the well being of others.

Pluralism is about community.  Do our beliefs or actions close us off from growing? Do they divide the world into usand them? Do they dehumanize some people? Are they rooted in preserving what is best for us personally at the expense of others? If they do, and if they are, maybe our search has not been as responsible as it has been free. It’s ok. It happens. It happens to me. And if I’m being hurtful, I hope and pray with all my heart that someone will tell me. I may not enjoy that experience, but I will be a better person because of it.

Pluralism also doesn’t mean apologizing for what we believe or how we touch the spirit. Sometimes the loudest groups in any community end up setting the norms, and I’ve heard UUs apologize for talking about Jesus, or God, or grace, or some other traditional piece of religious language. We don’t need to do that. Part of the point of being here, in my view, is that we don’t have to hide who we are when we come to this community. That also means that we need to be aware whose voices are loudest, and make sure we don’t neglect the quieter ones.

Which leads me to this – pluralism doesn’t mean we all use the least common denominator. We don’t all have to use a common religious language. We don’t all have to speak the same in order to be in community together. Instead, we can each speak in our own languages, using the words that are meaningful to us, while listening for the layers of meaning each of us brings to the conversation. We don’t need a common language, but we do need an openness to learning and an enthusiasm for seeking the wisdom in each others’ beliefs. And all of us need reminding from time to time.

When we embrace pluralism, listening, understanding, opening, we uncover the power to change hearts – including, but not only, our own. Everyday, we hear about some intolerance or hatred, violence and wars. Think about the difference the effort of understanding can make.

Here’s an example. Many of the children and teenagers who have been imprisoned by the Israeli government over the past months and in some cases years, are accused of violent crimes. In many – not all, but many – of those cases, the violent act involved throwing rocks. That alone is enough to get someone labeled as a terrorist combatant.

This isn’t new. Thirty years ago, it was just the same. Kids were throwing rocks, and landing in prison. Around that time, I had the opportunity to join a small group of students in conversation with Mubarak Awad, the pacifist activist who helped organize the first Intifada and who founded the Palestinian Center for the Study of Nonviolence. I remember him talking about the significance of rock throwing in Islam. Throwing rocks at a symbolic enemy or oppressor is part of every Hajj, the pilgrimage that all Muslims make if they are able. Over the centuries, the act of rock throwing has become a general symbol of resistance to oppression. So when a young Palestinian throws a rock at an Israeli police officer it may not be because they want to cause injury. I fully confess I don’t know how big the rocks in all these cases were, but it might a way of saying, “I refuse to acquiesce to the hurt I believe you are causing my people.” Of course, one person’s “symbolic act” is another’s “assaulting a police officer.” So there are, and have been for a very long time, a whole lot of rock throwers in Israeli prisons.

Pluralism is not going to solve this problem. Kids will still throw rocks, and soldiers and police officers will still consider that an attack. And I don’t expect any of us to support throwing rocks at people. But what difference would it make to understand and care that the rock is not thrown as a physical assault so much as an act of symbolic resistance? How could it aid understanding to know something like that? How could it help these kids? How could it help the police? How could it help prevent kids from going through an experience that pushes them toward more sinister forms of resistance?

Similarly, how could it affect the way we talk about the Middle East to remember that Israel has always played a central role in every Jew’s religious life? The Torah is the story of coming to Israel. The Seder always ends, “Next year in Jerusalem.” Chanukah celebrates a rededication of the temple in Jerusalem. That doesn’t mean there’s no colonialism in Israel, especially in the settler movement, or that the power dynamics between Israelis and Palestinians are fair or unimportant, but it does mark a difference between the founding of Israel and, for example, the European colonization of the Americas. You might be Zionist or anti-Zionist – and those terms themselves have become so fuzzy as to be almost useless these days – but what difference could it make to understand the centrality of Israel in Jewish history and culture?

Again, understanding and appreciating these kinds of religious differences is not going to solve the problems of the Middle East, because the conflicts are not, at heart, religious. Still, I wonder, how might it change us to learn the foundational stories lived by the people caught up in the horror of this war and others. How could it change our conversations? Could greater understanding lead us, as it led Ashoka, to greater peacefulness? Could hearts begin to open?

My colleague Kathleen McTigue once said that “Fear’s pronoun is singular: I’ve got to watch out for me and mine. Love’s pronoun is plural: we’re in this together, and together we can grow things that will blossom even in a time of drought.” How can pluralism lead us to greater love?

It’s more than tolerating the differences. It’s more than agreeing the other has a right to exist. When we’re doing it right, we live our diversity. We talk together, and we listen together. We seek and find the beauty in each other’s minds. That’s what Unitarian Universalism is all about. That’s why you can come here and sit down with a pagan, or an atheist, or a Christian, or a Muslim, or a Jew, or a Humanist, or a Hindu, or a Zoroastrian, or a theist, or something else entirely, and have one of the most transformative religious experiences of your life. We are better when we are not all the same. We are better when we open ourselves to learn and grow from each other. We are better when we embrace the possibility that the world still holds wisdom for us, and we can learn wisdom everywhere.

The beauty of it is, when we open ourselves to each others’ wisdom, and to the wisdom all around us, we grow not only as individuals, but as a faith. When I was growing up, and even when I was in seminary in the 1990s, we talked all the time about tolerance, but we had a lot to learn about pluralism. We had a long way to go before we honored diversity in our actions as well as our words.

And honestly, we’re still learning, but Unitarian Universalism has matured. We talk together. We listen to each other. We’re constantly finding the plural “we” that changes fear into love. Our minds and hearts are always opening – to new truth, to new friends, to this wide and beautiful world.

And I am so grateful for the journey.

Go with joy from this place,
open always to the wisdom around you.
May it open your mind
and stir your heart.
And when you go,
go in peace.