Religion and Social Class

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here is a paradox which has puzzled Unitarian Universalists for many years and in nearly all of our congregations. Our first principle is an affirmation of the worth and dignity of every person–every person--and not many religious traditions express as strong a desire for inclusion and diversity as we do. Yet in practice, our diversity and inclusion do not go as far as we might wish. We have a certain amount of theological diversity, as well as gender diversity in ministry and diversity of sexual identity and orientation in many of our congregations, but most of our congregations have very limited diversity when it comes to race, ethnicity, and economic or social class. Political diversity is often limited, too, although the issues there are somewhat different. In any case, why does this discrepancy exist between who we are as a community and who we aspire to be?

It isn’t that we haven’t tried. The Unitarian Universalist Association has a long history of striving for racial equality and inclusion, from early abolitionists such as Theodore Parker and civil rights heroes such as James Reeb, to the debacle over black empowerment in the late sixties, the Journey to Wholeness program over the last decade, and the election of the first African American President of the UUA, Bill Sinkford. It’s been two-steps-forward, one-step-back progress. There are more African American UU ministers today than there were four decades ago, but only a few more.

On the whole, we’ve made much greater strides in empowerment of women, who now make up a majority of UU ministers nationally, and in rights for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered persons, with hundreds of Welcoming Congregations across the United States. Why the difference?

I suspect that one of the reasons we have made more progress within our tradition on women’s issues and gay and lesbian issues than we have on race has something to do with underlying issues of economics, culture and social class. Distribution of gender and sexual orientation cut pretty much evenly across all classes and cultures, whereas race in this nation is significantly intertwined with class and culture, mostly due to our nation’s history of slavery, immigration and injustice. Racism is a very deep issue in its own right, but our greatest challenge of all may be class.

In addition to being predominantly but not entirely white, our congregations are overwhelmingly professional, well-educated, and above average economically. I was shocked when UUA consultant Terry Sweetser told us that members of UU congregations have household assets on average of about two million dollars. Of course, I am reminded of the joke that when Bill Gates walks into an elevator with seven other people, the average wealth in the elevator immediately goes up to five billion dollars per person. We have people all along the economic and educational spectrum here at JUC and in most of our congregations. We don’t have many people from the extremely wealthy and often conservative corporate class, but on the whole we are fairly well off. I’m sure we have members who would fall all along the spectrum of scores on standardized tests if we were forced to take them, but it remains the case that UU high school students have higher SAT scores on average than students from any other religious group. It would be easy to take pride in something like that, but we should be careful not to be too self-congratulatory. It may say as much about what we do not do well as where we excel.

One thing we have not done particularly well is to draw many people in to our community who are blue collar or working class, much less truly poor. This is in spite of the fact that we champion many causes that primarily benefit people who are poor or middle class. Most of us support universal health care, a higher minimum wage, progessive taxation, good public education, social security and safety net programs, trade and labor laws that balance the power of corporations, bankruptcy laws that make it possible to get a second chance, and the end of wars in which most of the people who die are poor or working class. We may not all agree on every issue, but on the whole we support the kinds of policies that created the middle class in this nation and that ease the suffering of the very poor.

So why then do so many people in the working class seem to go to churches that all too often favor policies that work against their own interests? It’s like the question behind the book, “What’s the Matter With Kansas,” which asked why so many people seem to vote against their own interests.

If you saw the cover article in the most recent UU World, “Not My Father’s Religion” by Doug Muder, than you read a persuasive case that the problem is not that the working class is stupid or has just been duped by the religious right. Our whole approach to religion is more geared to the professional class. We typically assume that we have many options for our lives and careers, and the challenge is to choose well. We often assume our children will go to college, although even for the relatively well-off that is becoming more difficult. We teach our children to find work that they will love, something inspiring and creative and able to make a difference in the world. We encourage questions and learning about ideas far beyond our own tradition, and we strive to understand the big picture of how the universe works and how we can bring social change for the greater good here on earth. We believe in taking risks, for even if we fail we will learn something we can use in the future. We have confidence that we will get a second chance.

None of these ideas are bad. But if you and your family are living paycheck to paycheck, depending on hard labor or a working class job, the challenge is more to find the self-discipline to keep doing what you have to do, no matter how much you may dislike it. Asking questions or learning about the universe and social change are generally not very useful on an assembly line or in a routine service job. In fact, asking questions can be dangerous if it could cause you to lose your job or alienate you from your family or church, which may be your only safety net. The world may not appear to offer many choices, possibilities for change, or second chances. Toughness may matter more than creativity. College may seem alien, and you may have little time or energy for esoteric ideas or pursuits beyond basic survival, family, and sometimes escapist distractions. Sheer fatigue can be very limiting. Someone poorer than you who might do your job for less may seem like a threat, so solidarity in working with them for better social policies is not an appealing path. And on Sunday morning, a religion that promises a God to lean on in times of trouble, who enforces the discipline we need and offers a better life after we die, may be much more appealing than a religion that places a primary focus on our own efforts to grow spiritually and to improve life in this world, especially if life in this world appears grimly the same from week to week as far as you can see.

Even for those in the working class whose lives are basically stable and happy, if they manage to walk through our doors, they still may not feel very comfortable despite our best efforts at welcome. We send off signals about class and culture all the time whether we are aware of it or not. It is in our language, our dress, our music and worship, our cars and food, and the assumptions we make. Often unbeknownst to us, other people pick up on these signals. They hear our ministers preach sermons using words like ‘paradox’, ‘esoteric’ and ‘unbeknownst’. The conversations we engage in may not fit their lives, and when someone asks what they do, the reaction may be “Oh.” instead of “Oh! My sister-in-law works there, too!” It may not matter to many of us whether we are close to the bus line, but it matters to someone who depends on the bus. We may not intend to give the message that those who cannot afford to make a larger pledge or bid in the live auction are second-class members, but it is easy for people in that situation to feel that way. Thank goodness, of course, for those who can and do give large pledges and bid in the auction, because otherwise we would not function as we do in this community. But thank goodness just as much for those who keep coming back in spite of having little money or time to give, when just getting here may be a challenge, or when the experience here sometimes feels awkward or out of place. We can use all kinds of people at JUC. We’d be in big trouble without volunteers who can do hard physical work. No one’s worth as a person depends on college degrees or how much they can pledge, any more than it depends on how far they can throw a football. We absolutely want to send the message that everyone is welcome here, no matter who you are or what your circumstances, but it is harder to do that than we might think.

You may expect me at this point to recommend that we should change dramatically what we are doing–change our music, our services, our way of talking, and our practices or expectations at JUC. But I would say no, or not exactly. The point of inclusion and diversity is not to be other than who we are. About the worst reason to try to attract people of different races and social classes is to help us feel better about how diverse we are. At General Assembly this year, Bill Sinkford pointed out that a congregation can be anti-racist regardless of whether there are just a few or even any faces of color within the congregation. It’s about a commitment, not demographics.

We’re actually doing better than many congregations in diversity, but if we want to do more to overcome barriers of race and class, one of our basic goals should be awareness. The more aware we are of the assumptions we make and the unintended messages we give, the more welcoming we can truly be. What offends us, and why? How do we really look and sound to outsiders? What diversity of social class is already here that we may be missing? We can seek out and listen to those with different perspectives and circumstances than our own, receiving the unique gifts they offer (and that we need), although we must be careful not to treat people as if they are speaking for a whole group or social class, rather than simply speaking for themselves. As we learn, we may evolve in our worship, practices, or ways of speaking to be more inclusive. There are things we can do and experiments worth trying, but it should be a natural process with informed choices, not play-acting as though we are people other than who we are.

Also, our goal should not only be to bring more people of different backgrounds into JUC. We can also go out, and join with people where they would like us to go, where we are more likely to be the ones who feel somewhat awkward. There are few greater sources of learning than stepping outside our comfort zone, where we may risk a mis-step no matter how respectful we try to be, or where we will probably not receive gratitude and kudos just for being there. With experience, we can be less voyeuristic, more helpful, or more aware when not to try to help. I was impressed that just two days before the recent ordination of new minister Aaron McEmrys in Denver, he spent his Thursday attending a labor negotiation in solidarity with a group of workers downtown. In Mississippi, I learned a lot from attending events where I was the only white person in the room. These are the kinds of opportunities that are available if we will look for them.

Even if we don’t get another single member who is working class or poor, we can still continue our work as a congregation for all people and classes, through advocacy and social action, through our generosity to outside organizations, and by working with local agencies such as Jeffco Action Center, Family Tree, Foothills Green, Habitat for Humanity, and the Interfaith Hospitality Network, all of which have connections to our Housing and Poverty Task Force. And we never know when some of our own fortunes may change for better or for worse. We need to be sure we have the systems in place to repond to needs within our congregation, and to repond in ways appropriate to who we are as an institution when outside needs come to our door.

As Unitarian Universalists, we do not seek to convert the world to our religion or claim that everyone should be UU. It’s good that there are different paths and diversity in the wider world. But we do claim that our message is relevant beyond white, professional Americans. We are generally a well-educated lot, which is good, because we place a high value on education and life-long learning. Education is probably a bigger component of the Unitarian Universalist class barrier than money itself. But our message is not that people with good educations are better. We often share political perspectives as a result of our shared religious values, but we are not defined by politics. Because we value informed discussion and debate, we welcome people with different points of view, as long as they understand that we will still act collectively on issues with substantial agreement that flow naturally from our religious principles.

Not everyone may feel comfortable here no matter what we do, but we do need to examine the core of our message to see what about it speaks universally, transcending the limitations of who we presently are. I believe that core exists. It does not, after all, take a college degree, high SAT scores, or even high intelligence to say, “Yes, I commit myself to remain open to truth, no matter what it may be or where it comes from, whether or not it fits my preferences and current beliefs, even if I can never fully understand it.” It does not take a lot of money or a professional job to say, “Yes, I commit myself as far as I am able to act in ways that place value on all people, all life, and the planet on which we live.” We can all offer care and kindness and help each other through troubled times. We can all forgive each other and ourselves when we fail to live up to our own ideals. We can learn more and become a little more honest, a little more respectful, a little more loving, and yes, a little more disciplined and strong. Together, we can form a powerful and loving community, and sometimes we can make a difference on issues affecting people of all races and classes.

I have said some of this before, but it bears repeating, because I believe these kinds of commitments are at the core of who we are as Unitarian Universalists. They are deeply spiritual commitments that ground us, connect us, and give us meaning. We can’t force anyone else to make these commitments, but I believe they are relevant far beyond the membership that sits in our pews.

I do have one small quarrel with Doug Muder’s article in the UU World. He explains that for people whose lives are harsh, a harsh religion may speak to them more clearly than an easy one. Unitarian Universalism may not be a harsh religion, but it is also not an easy one. It is extremely challenging to put our principles fully into practice and to keep growing spiritually with awareness and commitment. The difficulty of our religion when lived well may be one of the barriers that keeps some people out. But it is also what helps convince me that ours is a religion that really matters and that truly offers meaning and hope to people of all classes, both individually and as a whole society. We know we have things to learn–that’s part of what our faith is all about. We welcome anyone who will join us on this journey, but no matter who is in our pews and who is not, we will keep striving to live up to our values and principles for the good of everyone.

May it be so.