I have a fairy tale for you this morning. I know that sometimes I preach about things that might make a person uncomfortable: human suffering, the dark night of the soul, poverty, war, and so forth. So here is a nice little fairy tale with a happy ending.
Once upon a time a very bright young woman, Let’s call her Carol, grew up in a religiously conservative home in a religiously conservative town in a religiously conservative part of the country. Carol was a good girl. She went to church with her family every week. She paid attention in Sunday school and later on was active in her church youth group. And she was a very dedicated student. Carol was so dedicated that she ended at the top of her graduating class in high school. And she did very, very well on the standardized tests.
Carol went on to win a scholarship to an elite liberal arts college far from home. In college she took a wide variety of courses in subjects like biology, anthropology, history, and religion.
Carol was especially interested in the course on religion. She learned about other religious and about the history of Christianity. The new things she learned turned Carol’s world upside down. She learned about the big bang, the history of the solar system, and evolution. She learned shocking things about the bible she was never taught at church--things like the fact that the gospels were written long after Jesus lived and that lots of the letters of Paul were not written by Paul.
In some versions of this fairy tale Carol also breaks out of her very restrictive past and experiments with alcohol, marijuana and sex--but we’re in church and won’t tell that part of the story.
If we really want to stretch the story, we can imagine Carol coming out as a lesbian or falling in love with a young man who is African American or a Muslim exchange student from Syria. But let’s not go too far.
Now, Carol’s college is far, far away from her home--so she didn’t come back until Christmas break. Luckily for her, Carol did not go so far as to dye her hair purple and perforate herself with sundry piercings. And, thank heaven, she did not come home full of tattoos. As I said, Carol was a very smart young woman.
She did come home, however, with a head full of new ideas and information. While she was home she got into all sorts of conversations with her parents and siblings and friends.
She told them about the amazing things she had learned about the big bang and mass extinctions and human evolution and all her new information about religion and the bible.
She told her family she was particularly interested in paganism and Buddhism.
And all Carol’s family and all her friends were so happy for her. They eagerly asked her questions and were so impressed by all the wonderful stuff she was learning at college.
What a wonderful place this college must be, they thought.
Carol’s family, especially her mother and father, just couldn’t stop thanking her for sharing all her new knowledge with them. Why, they could hardly wait to hear all the new ideas she was going to bring home after the second semester. Her dad was especially intrigued by her new interest in paganism.
Heck, Carol’s parents even suggested that she might try some body piercing and tattoos--they didn’t want their daughter to stand out as some kind of prude at college, after all.
Ah, fairy tales. Aren’t they wonderful. Too bad it never happens that way in real life.
You know the true story of what happens when Carol comes home. All hell breaks loose. Her family and friends see her as lost soul, as someone who has turned her back on God and on her family. Carol is treated as though she has some horrible communicable disease. And there is some truth to that view, for a heretical opinion is a kind of communicable disease. Carol’s Christmas vacation turns into a nightmare.
Her vacation is filled with yelling, recrimination and tears.
Our smart and good heroine has become the black sheep of the family.
The true story is a story we all know. It is a story too many of us have lived or are living.
I hear stories from our members all the time—painful stories about attending a funeral of a relative, about a Christmas visit that turns into a disaster, about family gatherings that are tense and awkward.
[Four members of the congregation share brief stories of being rejected or marginalized by family members for having become Unitarian Universalists.]
As we see, one of the problems with being the black sheep is that it isn’t a one time thing--or a short term. It goes on for years.
I know a man who joined this church in his 70’s. I was surprised when he joined, for he had been coming regularly for many years and I thought he was already a member. When I asked about it he said that he waited until his mother died. She lived to her mid 90’s. He waited until then because he feared that if his good Catholic mother knew he was a member of a Unitarian Universalist church it would kill her.
Even if you and I have families that are Unitarian Universalist or religiously indifferent, all of us get to play the black sheep sometimes. Maybe it is at school. Often it is at our place of work. Sometimes it is among friends.
Our sign says we are a religious home for the liberal spirit. Maybe we should put up a second sign that says we are a religious sanctuary for religious black sheep.
How is it that we come to be black sheep? And what can we do about it?
Most of us religious liberals share a kind of “born again” experience. That is, most of us share a common experience of coming to see the world in a new way.
The beginning of our little fairy tale is almost archetypical. Most religious liberals share the story of a religious journey that has taken them far from where they started. We grew up with beliefs and a world view that we largely inherited.
Then something happened. Maybe we started to ask questions. I hear this story all the time: “I was the kid who would ask too many questions.” Maybe, like the fictitious damsel of our fairy tale, it was exposure to new ideas in higher education. Maybe it was living in a different part of the world for a time. Maybe we joined a meditation group. Or perhaps we made new friends who come from a different background.
Whatever it was, we came to see that way we were taught to see the world is just one of many ways of seeing the world. And, if that is so, how can we be sure that the way we were taught is the truth? By what standard are we to decide?
Once we start down that road it is almost impossible to turn back. Someone who has lived in a foreign country for a while never sees his own country quite the same way.
Sadly, what we experience as growth, as a broadening of our vision, others often experience as rejection, heresy and apostasy.
We become black sheep. We become black sheep without ever wanting or intending to be.
And make no mistake, it is painful to be the black sheep. It hurts when people reject us, when they feel compelled to pray for our lost souls. They feel compelled to convince us of the error of our ways, to get us back into the fold.
The stories we have heard this morning from James, Bev, Dea, Gail and Fred are painful to hear.
What is a black sheep to do? How do we remain true to who we are and what we believe while maintaining connection with people we care about? How do we relate to people we care for when they think we are weird at best and dangerous at worst?
First, let me say from bitter personal experience, arguing with others about their beliefs is not the answer. It took me a long time to learn this. In fact, the better you are at arguing the worse it is. Funny thing, pointing out the factual and logical errors in someone else’s cherished beliefs is not the way to endear your self.
Most of us black sheep learn some variation on biting our tongues. I wonder how many gallons of blood we have lost collectively in the last year. Probably more than we donated to the Red Cross or Bonfils. (Some small religious groups speak in tongues; we UU’s learn to bite ours.)
We learn to change the subject, if we can. Better yet, we learn to avoid the subject of religion altogether. A relationship that avoids certain subjects is better than open warfare or no relationship at all.
We must learn patience and tolerance. We have to practice seeing beyond the opinions and see the person we care about. We must never fall into the error of thinking that another human being is nothing more than the opinions he or she holds. A human being is far more than his theology.
We must remember to love people in spite of what they think. And we must practice the old religious virtue of forgiveness. In time—it can take years—our kindness will often soften people. And if it doesn’t, at least we will have done our part. We must also remember that there are limits to what we can do to rescue a relationship. A relationship is a two way street
Probably the best thing we can do is to find common ground. This works on the personal level and the institutional level. For example, our theology is far different from that of fundamentalist Christians or orthodox Catholics. However, we share with them a concern for compassion for the helpless. We can find common ground with our religiously conservative family and friends when it comes to such things as helping victims of disaster. Often they share with us a common concern for the poor.
And yet tolerance and tongue biting have their limits. It is a delicate balance we must try to maintain. I am not suggesting that any of us silently put up with abuse and ridicule. I am not suggesting that we remain silent when family or friends use religion to justify oppression of racial minorities, of gays and lesbians, of religious minorities like Jews and Muslims. Nor should we remain silent on matters like imposing one group’s religious teachings on everyone in our public schools.
Often the best thing is to remain silent, but sometimes we simply must speak out. Wisdom lies in knowing when to raise our voices.
Yes, being a black sheep can be a bummer.
Let us remember, however, that being a religious black sheep has its plusses.
One of these is that we get to come together with some really amazing people. Just look around. Look at this glorious collection of black sheep! These are people who are good, kind, compassionate and committed. These are people who are good friends and who make a difference in the world.
We black sheep have to stick together. We need one another. And the world needs us.
I think of other black sheep in the course of history. Think of Galileo getting ostracized and arrested for challenging the church’s teachings. Think of Socrates, Jesus, Susan Anthony, Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Think of the child who stands up for a black or brown classmate in school.
Black sheep make progress possible.
Being a black sheep is something to be proud of.
Are you the black sheep of the family? Of the office? Of the class?
Congratulations!
Go for it! Be the best black sheep you can be. And remember, always remember, you are not alone.
Amen.