© Rev. Susan Karlson
February 19, 2012
Unitarian Church of Staten Island
I was
very young when I first saw Man of La
Mancha, and heard that song, The
Impossible Dream that Jill sang earlier.
Maybe I romanticized tilting with windmills or becoming Don Quixote-like. I know back then I believed in the Disney version
of true love that triumphed everything—wicked ness, sorrow, sometimes even death
itself. Yet there was something about
the lyrics that grabbed hold of me~ “to be willing to march into hell for a
heavenly cause”, a belief deep down that this world is better when people fight for the right, even though it
costs them dearly. Though I was naïve in
some ways, I already knew enough about suffering to have some inkling that
these lyrics held some profound truths that I wanted to follow — to gather up
all my courage to go for “that unreachable star.”
It was not
reasonable or rational but that song became part of my outlook on life, my
“impossible dream.” Each of us has our
own version of the “impossible dream” somewhere in our psyche, in our spirit—something
we wear it like a second skin that naturally becomes a part of us. It is unlikely that our “impossible dreams”
touch anything like Servetus’, who just had to keep after John Calvin to
convince him that he was right about the Trinity even though both Protestants
and Catholics pursued him as a dangerous heretic.
Think of
Servetus who moved from country to country and changed his name and his
profession to avoid persecution. Some
people, particularly contemporary folks like us, look at Miguel Servetus’ life
and think him foolish, arrogant or irrational.
Why was he so determined to preach against the Trinity—who cared if it
was a biblical idea or not anyway? What
difference did it make? Well, it made a
lot of difference to people back then because a religious life was tied into a
person’s whole life.
When
Servetus wrote about the separation of church and state he was arguing for
freedom of thought. Today male clergy
and legislators meet together with no women present to decide how to control a
woman’s access to contraception and how she might or might not exercise some control
over her own life.
That incenses me and feels mystifying
and incredibly egotistical. On the other
hand, I understand that people from different faiths do not want the government
treading on their turf, legislating moral matters that they feel are entirely
in the domain of their religion. It’s
just that for some women, affordable birth control is not available. At the grinding edge between church and state
some people’s welfare and beliefs are advanced at the expense of others.
Unitarian
Universalists like to claim Michael Servetus but he was not Unitarian in his
beliefs—he believed in what is known as
Arianism—that Jesus was fully human and divine, “God come to earth”. Like a lot of people before him, he got in a
lot of trouble for that heresy and because he opposed the idea of original sin
and infant baptism. http://www25.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/michaelservetus.html
An
earlier claim denounced Calvin as an Arian too which may have made him more
rigorous in denouncing Servetus, to protect his own life. In answer to Calvin’s treatise in defense of
the decision to kill Servetus, Sebastian Castellio (Cas tay lee o) wrote, "to kill a man is
not to protect a doctrine; it is but to kill a man. When the Genevans killed
Servetus, they did not defend a doctrine; they but killed a man." He
continued "… when Servetus fought with reasons and writings, he should
have been repulsed by reasons and writings." Servetus’ death stirred
a wave of religious tolerance. It likely
prompted the Edict of Torda, which promoted religious tolerance in Transylvania
in1568.
Religious intolerance is on the rise now. We seem
almost eager to tear down the religions of our neighbors without really
understanding their faith at all. We
don’t burn the person at the stake
like Servetus but as a society we do pigeon-hole
people all of the time, using articles and news to reinforce what we already
believe about the world’s faiths.
Peter Hughes wrote that “It is one of the ironies of
history that all the modern Unitarian churches and movements hold the memory of
Michael Servetus in special honour—for every one of them developed historically
from the Reformed tradition of John Calvin.”
Perhaps, we should consider this little irony and not rush to the
conclusion that we have always held the moral high ground. Servetus’ life and
death speak to us this century about the need for religious tolerance,
interfaith dialogue and partnering with other faiths.
People
like Servetus get attention. You have to
pay attention to a person who doesn’t let an idea go even when they face death
that could be avoided if they’d just recant.
It makes me think what ideas are so central to us here in this church
that we can’t let go of them either, no matter what we face. I imagine we are all over the map with our
“impossible dreams” (and I don’t mean that as a derogatory reference).
We
witnessed all kinds of dreaming the other week at our community meeting. We came up with ideas like kernels of popcorn
bursting from the skillet. And the
exhilaration is palpable—I sense the enthusiasm that comes from knowing that we
can have some impact on our destiny.
There is a contagious and inspiring “hope”, “esperanza”, alive in this
church. It’s not frivolous to dream, to
dream big, to reach for something though everyone cries out that it can’t
happen.
Generally,
Unitarian Universalists are among the most rational of human beings on the
planet. We are as determined as Spock or
Data from Star Trek to point out that something simply isn’t
logical. And if it’s not logical and it
doesn’t make sense, well, why would anybody even waste time worrying about
it? There are some of us, like me, that
really enjoy the inexplicable. I
particularly like implausible stories and movies. And sometimes, when Alan, my sweetie, and I
are watching one of these unbelievable flicks, I will remind him to just
suspend disbelief, because he is quick to find logical inconsistencies. We’re a good pair, he and I, sharing the
mystery and the scientifically discernible.
It is
possible to be practical, grounded and yet entertain lofty, seemingly
impossible ideals. Anything worthy of
our efforts and time needs to have elements of both—soaring into the stratosphere
above our heads, rooted in the earth beneath our feet.
Our
lives are filled with ordinary events.
We make and break new year’s resolutions. We celebrate another birthday. We meet
with our kid’s teacher, sign a petition or comfort
someone who is sick, lonely or afraid.
We listen to the birds returning from a short winter sojourn, awaiting spring’s
arrival.
Every
once in a while, something major sweeps in and colors our world. We’re devastated by a major illness, unsure
how we’ll cope. Or we realize that we can’t shield our
children from making a tragic mistake.
Our parents are declining—will we ever be able to sit down and talk to
them heart to heart again. Our partner
just got a job they’ve been working for their whole life. It will change our life too.
Each of us gets caught up
in the spirit of life—feeling the hope that circulates through our systems,
whether it be the synergy of our bodies tackling some new regimen; taking a
class that speaks to our souls and makes transformation likely or a possibility
we see for the future that beckons to us and shifts our world.
Miguel
Servetus lived in a time of change but ours is a time in which change is the
constant. As unsettling as it is this
is the time when the impossible becomes possible, the time when our dreams
circumnavigate our grounded reality and, with our sails billowing in the winds
of inspiration, we are launched into
fresh seas. May this day be a day of “esperanza”,
of hope and cherished vision. So may it
be.
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