Who Says?
Part 1, Rev. Bill Hamilton-Holway
The psychologist was speaking. I had completed the battery of psychological tests required of those aspiring to the Unitarian Universalist ministry and he was sharing the results. He said, “Everything looks fine, Bill. And there is one characteristic worth noting. You have problems with authority.”
He paused, as I let the comment sink in…questioning him – who was he to say!
And then he continued. “Of course, every Unitarian Universalist I’ve ever tested has a problem with authority.”
Our theological theme for January is Authority.
I’ve remembered that psychologist’s words for thirty-five years.
I venture to say all Unitarian Universalists have problems with authority.
It comes with the territory.
One vote of the Church after another through 1500 years of Christianity forced those who did not conform to Roman Catholic authority to create new forms and new ways of religious community.
They called it heresy; we said re-formation.
Unitarian Universalists were on the radical end of the Protestant Reformation. We went beyond argument about specific religious beliefs
to affirm each person discerning truth for themselves.
We added to the notion of religion, or religio, meaning to bind together,
our commitment to liberalis, or liberty,
meaning freedom to follow one’s conscience.
Liberal Religion: we are bound together in freedom.
Reflecting on questions of authority we struggle with this tension.
We hold as sacred each person’s journey in discernment of truth,
AND we are bound together.
We come to one another to test our understanding of truth,
and to be transformed by our interactions.
Our commitment is to curiosity, to embody this gift of existence
with openness to new truth realized in any moment.
When you want to learn how religions differ, look to where they place authority.
Where is truth revealed? In a sacred scripture? In tradition?
In the pronouncements of a leader?
A great summary of Unitarian Universalist sources of authority is in our statement of principles. You can find it in our grey hymnal, just before the first song.
“The living tradition we share draws from many sources:” direct experience, words and deeds of others, world religions, ethics, loving action, science, reason.
We welcome all sources that contribute to our understanding of what makes a good, moral, and meaningful life.
We hold our discernment of conscience in community as sacred,
and we devote ourselves to raising new generations of people
rooted in this commitment, with skills to practice it.
Part of raising our children to embody liberation in community is to question constantly the voices of authority we hear every day.
What messages encourage healthy growth, independence and interdependence, and what are the voices of control?
Throughout the holiday exuberance,
did you notice the pressures exerted on all of us?
Tons of paper advertisements flow through our cultural streams.
Internet and television ads proliferate;
creating images someone wants us to desire – and buy.
Stereotypical images of masculinity and femininity shape our self images. Advertisers want us to, and we do,
compare ourselves with the ideal they set forth.
They want to be our authority when we make choices
about who we are and what we will buy.
Will it make me more attractive? Will it make me more powerful?
It hasn’t always been this way.
The electronic revolution of the last sixty years,
with its attendant power to create and dispense images,
creates a formidable force unlike that experienced by earlier generations.
Unless we provide alternatives, children grow up with self-images formed at the hands of consumer gurus. This is particularly troublesome when we view the images of violence, oppression, and sexual stereotyping rampant in our culture.
What were your experiences growing up?
What did you learn about violence and appropriate ways of being and behaving?
Did you have experiences that taught you your power to transform oppression or violence into something of worth and dignity?
I grew up with warrior toys:
Cowboys with guns. Indians for the cowboys to shoot.
I loved cowboy TV shows:
The Lone Ranger, and Rin Tin Tin every Saturday morning.
I grew up with toy soldiers, with knights with lances, battle axes, and swords.
I had toy guns and plastic grenades.
Thursday, in a conversation about our toys-into-a-dove project,
I picked up a toy soldier I found a few years ago while digging in our back yard.
It’s an old metal soldier from World War I.
Holding it I remembered an event from my childhood, with new understanding.
When I was eight or ten years old I got very excited when my father told me of an old box of toy soldiers from his boyhood.
He remembered boxing them up, and storing them.
He said we could look for them and they would be mine.
Well, the box was long gone, and I was deeply disappointed.
What strikes me now is that it would have been figures like this one, a soldier from World War I, that my father would have played with in the 1920s and 30s.
His toys, my toys, captivating toys, images of men with guns, at war.
Don’t get me wrong.
Exposure to implements of violence didn’t turn me into a monster.
It may have helped me discern I am a conscientious objector to participation in war.
And I recognize violence is sometimes necessary to defend oneself,
to defend those we love, to defend one’s community.
But, defensive wars are not what I have known in my country in my lifetime.
Children, and perhaps all of us, need experiences where we learn
we can transform possibilities for violence and oppression
into creative, constructive, life-supporting acts.
We can choose transformation.
We can practice turning swords into plowshares.
Our children can grow up knowing and using non-violent communication.
In their sixties, they may pick up a toy gun, or soldier, or a Barbie doll and remember a dove of peace.
Part 2, Rev. Barbara Hamilton-Holway
As a child I had a Betsy Wetsy doll.
You’d feed her a bottle of milk and she’d pee in her diaper.
(Now there’s a female sterotype.)
My dolls became students and I played teacher.
My friends and I played “Dress-Up”
with discards from my great aunts’ and grandparents’ closets.
We used those clothes as costumes
and put on shows with singing and magic acts.
I liked to wear a top hat and announce the performers.
We kids played journalists and wrote up the neighborhood news.
We rode our trikes and bikes in endless circles around our block.
I liked my Roy Rogers lunch box and cowgirl gear,
but I liked to play I was an Indian.
I pretended I was a St. Francis-like monk
who walked in the park, talking to the trees.
But my brother and I also had boxing gloves
and went at each other.
I wanted to be more like the younger “tomboy” daughter than the
attractive older girl in TV show family of Father Knows Best.
My mother said the way I dressed I looked like a ragamuffin.
I liked that.
By the time ads said blondes have more fun
and Mattel introduced the world to Barbie,
I didn’t want to be blonde,
but I was trying to iron flat my brown, curly hair.
Who is the authority on who we are?
How do what we buy and the ads we see shape our lives?
What makes for a good, moral, meaningful life?
Play is the right of every child.
Make-believe, active play creates social, physical, emotional well-being.
Through the years, the toy industry has proliferated.
Parents, grandparents face dilemmas.
Which toys to buy?
Adults get caught up in what advertisers say are “in, cool” toys,
what kids’ friends have, and what kids say they want.
Kids differ.
One child might thrive with toys of natural fiber materials,
elements of nature and silkly cloths for play.
Another might develop heroic qualities and make friends
creating warrior costumes and Styrofoam weapons.
One might line up soldiers and send them crashing
as a healthy way of expressing energy.
One kid might like a beautiful princess costume
and through dress up feel beautiful inside and out,
confidant and shining,
while another likes a tutu and a tool belt.
It’s a lot for parents to figure out,
toy by toy, kid by kid, stage by stage.
One parents said he just gave up.
He gave his kids batteries
with a note that said “no toys included.”
It’s good to explore all this in community,
to become more conscious about toys for kids
and toys for adults, like fancy electronic gadgets and apps.
It’s good to notice the desire and the values advertising promotes.
It’s good to claim your authority to make choices
that support your values
and to encourage your kids to do so too,
and to do all this in community.
Thursday night at vespers, all ages were invited to reflect on
something you use that can hurt or heal,
something you’d like to see used for peace.
I thought of my voice, my hands, my expressions.
I’d like them to heal and not harm.
Afterwards, kids told me they were thinking about what toys to bring to church
to turn into a dove of peace.
I love that this is the conversation here.
We learn from each other.
A woman here says,
“As a kid, I was fascinated by Robin Hood and Maid Marion,
spending hours fashioning bows, and playing in the woods.
I wanted to be part of Robin's band, for the values and adventure.
Maid Marion wore tights and a tunic,
shot a bow and arrow with precision,
and wasn't a typical female of her times.
Identifying with her grew my spirit of adventure,
strength and being unconventional.
I never killed anyone in my play.
It wasn't about violence.”
As a parent, she says,
“I allowed no guns or war toys in my son’s earliest years.
This sometimes fosters a backlash
and a super-strong interest in violent toys,
but this wasn't the case for my son.
When we gradually let in swords and battle toys as he got older,
we discussed that war was never to be glorified.
He seemed to always understand this.
Knights and samurai allowed him to use his imagination,
learn about history, and integrate various aspects of himself.”
Her son says he created knights because he appreciated their honor and valor.
Studying them, he learned the values he wants for his life.
Right here we’re learning together how to use our toys and our lives
to be true to who we are and what we value,
to make of our earth heaven or hell.
Hebrew Prophet Isaiah calls for weapons to be turned into ploughshares,
swords into shovels, spears into hoes.
Isaiah says this is the way we were meant to live.
The Message Bible’s translation is
“No more will nation fight nation.
They won’t play war anymore.”
People beating swords into ploughshares aren’t wimpy.
Heroic action turns swords into tools to feed bodies.
We’ll apply primer coats of paint to turn toys into simple shapes and forms.
Then these pieces will be shaped by Mosaic Artist Kim Larson into a dove of peace.
We turn toys into art to feed our spirits.
What’s important? And who says?
Let’s be guided by the still small voice within us.
And speak and refine our understanding in spiritual community.
Each of us has a piece of the truth.
We need one another to know more, to be more whole.
As each of us shares our toys and stories of toys, we learn from one another.
Kids play with toys in a wide variety of ways.
How great for them, for all of us,
to experience one another turning toys into art, creating peace together.
“That’s making earth heaven.”
Copyright © 2012, Revs. Bill and Barbara Hamilton-Holway. All Rights Reserved.
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