Imagine awakening one morning from a deep and dreamless sleep to find yourself in the nave of a vast cathedral. Like a child newborn, untutored save to moisture, nurture, rhythm, and the profound comforts at the heart of darkness, you open your eyes onto a world unseen, indeed unimaginable, before. It is a world of light and dancing shadow, stone and glass, life and death. This second birth, at once miraculous and natural, is in some ways not unlike the first. A new awakening, it consecrates your life with sacraments of pain you do not understand and promised joy you will never fully call your own.
Such awakenings may happen only once in a lifetime or many times. But when they do, what before you took for granted is presented as a gift: difficult, yet precious and good. Not that you know what to do with your gift, or even what it really means, only how much it matters. Awakening to the call stirring deep within you, the call of life itself—the call of God—you begin your pilgrimage.
Before you do, look about you. Contemplate the mystery and contemplate with awe. This cathedral is as ancient as humankind, its cornerstone the first altar, marked with the tincture of blood and blessed by tears. Search for a lifetime—which is all you are surely given—and you shall never know its limits, visit all its transepts, worship at its myriad shrines, nor span its celestial ceiling with your gaze. The builders have worked from time immemorial, destroying and creating, confounding and perfecting, tearing down and raising up arches in this cathedral, buttresses and chapels, organs, theaters and chancels, gargoyles, idols and icons. Not a moment passes without work being begun that shall not be finished in the lifetime of the architects who planned it, the patrons who paid for it, the builders who construct it, or the expectant worshipers. Throughout human history, one generation after another has labored lovingly, sometimes fearfully, crafting memorials and consecrating shrines. Untold numbers of these today collect dust in long undisturbed chambers; others (cast centuries or eons ago from their once respected places) lie shattered in shards or ground into dust on the cathedral floor. Not a moment passes without the dreams of long-dead dreamers being outstripped, crushed, or abandoned, giving way to new visions, each immortal in reach, ephemeral in grasp.
Welcome to the Cathedral of the World.
Above all else, contemplate the windows. In the Cathedral of the World there are windows beyond number, some long forgotten, covered with many patinas of dust, others revered by millions, the most sacred of shrines. Each in its own way is beautiful. Some are abstract, others representational; some dark and meditative, others bright and dazzling. Each tells a story about the creation of the world, the meaning of history, the purpose of life, the nature of humankind, the mystery of death. The windows of the cathedral are where the light shines through.
As with all extended metaphors for meaning, this one is imperfect. The Light of God (or Truth or Being Itself, call it what you will) shines not only upon us, but out from within us as well. Together with the windows, we are part of the Cathedral, not apart from it. Together we comprise an interdependent web of being. The Cathedral is constructed out of star stuff, and so are we. We are that part (that known part) of the creation that contemplates itself, part of the poem that we ponder. Because the Cathedral is so vast, our life so short and our vision so dim, we are able to contemplate only a tiny part of the cathedral, explore a few apses, reflect upon the play of light and darkness through a few of its myriad windows. Yet, since the whole (holographically or organically) is contained in each of the parts, as we ponder and act on the insight from our ruminations, we may discover insights that will invest our days with meaning and our lives with purpose.
A twenty-first-century theology based on the concept of one Light and many windows offers to its adherents both breadth and focus. Honoring many different religious approaches, it only excludes the truth-claims of absolutists. That is because fundamentalists claim that the Light shines through their window only. Some go so far as to beseech their followers to throw stones through other people’s windows.
Skeptics draw the opposite conclusion. Seeing the bewildering variety of windows and observing the folly of the worshipers, they conclude that there is no Light. But the windows are not the Light. They are where the Light shines through.
We shall never see the Light directly, only as refracted through the windows of the Cathedral. Prompting humility, life’s mystery lies hidden, beyond knowledge’s most ample ken. The Light (God, Truth) is veiled. Yet, that we can encompass with our minds the universe that encompasses us is a cause for great wonder. I humbly stand in the Cathedral of the World trembling with awe.
Some people have trouble believing in a God who looks into any eyes but theirs. Others have trouble believing in a God they cannot see. But that none of us can look directly into God’s eyes certainly doesn’t mean God isn’t there, mysterious, unknowable, gazing into ours, gazing through the windows of the Cathedral of the World.
Get’s me every time.
I been given the honour and great responsibility to lecture at Unitarian Academy Prague Educational retreat from 14th until 18th October and lead worship at the International Unitarian Church on the Sunday. I was invited to attend in 2020 but obviously could not physically attend as we were in lockdown. So, I delivered the lectures online, but didn’t get to visit Prague
I have been asked to speak on several subject. One being to pick three Unitarian personalities who have inspired me and describe what I believe their significant contributions are. It took me a while, but I have come up with three. One is Joseph Priestley, another Dilworth Lupton and the third Forrest Church. Now those who know me well will not be surprised to hear me speak of Priestley and Forrest Church, but I would be surprised if any listening to this will have heard of Rev Dilworth Lupton.
I will begin with Joseph Priestley, perhaps the most significant figure in the development of the Unitarian tradition. I have a personal affection and connection to Priestley. We come from the same place, Birstall in West Yorkshire. We went to the same school Batley Grammar School. There is a huge statue of Priestly in Birstall market Place, he dominates it. Growing up it was Priestley the scientist that we heard about, not the radical minister. I have no recollection of this ever being mentioned. As we used to say, half joking “he was the man who invented oxygen”. Yes, I know that is silly, he invented carbonated water and isolated and understood what oxygen was. Discoveries he made during his spare time whilst minister at Mill Hill Chapel in Leeds.
Priestley was the classic Enlightenment polymath. He published almost two hundred works on natural philosophy, theology, metaphysics, political philosophy, politics, education, history and linguistics. Despite his scientific discoveries he viewed himself primarily as a minister, theologian and teacher. Priestely was central to the development and promotion of Unitarian theology in the UK and to a degree the USA too. He had to flee there from England. It is his view of human nature and sin that is key for me. From a young age he had serious theological doubts about his Calvinist upbringing particularly around the concept of the “Original Sin” of Adam and new life and salvation through Jesus. Priestley proposed a new translation of scripture he believed that human attainment of truth was gradual and fluid, that knowledge ought never be allowed to stagnate. At the heart of his theological understanding was that human beings were capable of reaching the perfect understanding attained by Christ. This is because Jesus was wholly human. That although we didn’t achieve this, it is within our capacity. Due to this understanding reason led him to rejecting both the Trinity and Substitutional Atonement.
It is this idea of human capacity that is key for me. I have always been concerned with the struggle so many experience and the view that at the heart of them there is something wrong, I have suffered with this for large parts of my life. Priestley reasoned that we have the capacity to change and that we are not fallen in nature.
I believe that there is that Divine light within each of us and that it is our task to bring this to life and to inspire others to do the same. This is a salvation if you like. Not so much to the next life, but this life. In many ways this is central to my view of ministry., to encourage folk to be all that they are capable of being, not merely for themselves, but for the good of all.
A few years ago, a friend in Alcoholics Anonymous sent me a sermon preached on November 26, 1939 by Rev Dilworth Lupton at the First Unitarian Church, Cleveland, Ohio. Rev Joe Cherry, who spent a short time in Manchester when we were both training for the ministry, was minister there for several years. He told me that Alcoholics Anonymous began there. Now this is not actually true, although the locals do claim it. The history is a little more complex than that. The sermon was made into an early AA pamphlet in the area and was published along with others in the local newspapers. Dilworth Lupton played a major role in AA’s early acceptance and incredible expansion in the area. Lupton had originally been reluctant to become involved as there had been a connection to the Oxford Groups of the day, but the alcoholics removed themselves and once this happened he was on board, certainly in Cleveland.
Dilworth Lupton noted four principle aspects of the fellowship and their members. the first being spiritual dependence on something beyond their mere human will. Now what impressed Lupton was this was not prescribed to them, but for each individual to make sense of themselves. The second being “Universality”, that the groups were open to anyone regardless of background or of belief or lack of. The third being “Mutual Aid” That they truly were a fellowship of people who gave of themselves to help one another and those who still struggled. Finally, the principle of transformation” That something was happening in the lives of these people that was not only dispelling their alcoholic obsession, but transforming their lives. They were saved, found salvation, in this life, not the next.
Towards the end of the sermon Rev Lupton offered the following advice to Alcoholics Anonymous:
“One final word to the members of Alcoholics Anonymous. Go back to your synagogues and churches; they need you and you need them. Preserve your principle of Universality, your faith that all religion is one. Never allow yourselves to be absorbed by any single church or sect. Keep your movement what you call it now, a “layman’s outfit.” Avoid over-organization for religious organizations always tend to follow the letter rather than the spirit, finally crushing the spirit. Remember that early Christianity was promoted not by highly involved organization, but by the contagion of souls fired with enthusiasm for their cause. And keep your sense of humor! So far you do not seem afflicted with the curse of over-seriousness.”
It seems that they continued to follow his advice, for they have remained this way.
I love the way that Dilworth Lupton highlights the openness and modern day Universalism at the heart of the principles of Alcoholics Anonymous. Something I found myself. I began my own spiritual journey nearly a quarter of a century ago there. This led me on a journey of exploration that eventually led me to Unitarianism and then ministry. Without realising it at the time that early promotion of AA by Rev Lupton played a role in so much good.
Whilst I was training for the Unitarian ministry I heard Forrest Church’s “Cathedral of the World”. It is the introduction to his book, by the same title, written as he was dying from esophageal cancer. This and another he wrote at the same time “Love and Death: My Journey Through the Valley of the Shadow” were central to my formation into Unitarian ministry. It was coming to terms with a heartbreaking grief that drew me into ministry, Grief and the love we leave behind has been central to my faith and service these past 16 years. It is also key to my concept of salvation in this life, that all life is sacred, that everything we do and everything we do not do really matters. As Forrest Church wrote himself:
“What I'm talking about here, by the way, is salvation. The latin root, salve, means 'health.' The Teutonic cognates 'health' and 'holy' share the same root. Being agnostic about the afterlife, I look for salvation here - not to be saved from life, but to be saved by life, in life, for life…”
And later on “About life after death, no-one knows. But about this we surely know: there is love after death... Centuries from now, the last tracings of our being will yet express themselves in little works of love that follow bead by bead in a luminous catena extending from our dear ones out into their world and then on into the next, strung by our own loving hands.”
It was though his vision of a 21st Century Universalism, that caught my imagination.
Forrest asks us to imagine the whole of humanity standing under the ceiling of the cathedral of the world. Around this cathedral are millions of stained glass windows. There is a light outside of the cathedral shining through all of the windows; this is the light of truth, the light of God. No one inside is able to stare at the light directly, we all see it passing through a stained glass window. Each of the windows distorts the light in some way; they only allow some of the light to pass through. Sometimes the light is refracted, by the tinted windows and occasionally it is blocked by the opaque aspects of each window. In some places the light is almost completely obscured. Just as importantly though he also says that the light shines out from us, this links me right back to Priestley and what I understand as finding that of the Divine within each of us. That we do not need to go out to connect to Divinity, that we are not awaiting salvation. His Universalism also links me back to Rev Lupton’s understanding at what was at the heart of the spirituality of Alcoholics Anonymous.
The Cathedral of the world metaphor is an attempt to describe a 21st century Universalist theology, one that speaks powerfully to me. There is one light but there are many windows through which we can get a glimpse of the light. Each window is unique in its own way; each window is different; but none gives us a perfect image of the light. Each window is representing different religions, different ideologies, different philosophies, different dogmas, different views about life, the universe, everything. The key is to understand that each window has been fashioned by human hands, often with great skill, imagination, beauty, intelligence and artfulness that said through no one window is the light seen perfectly.
Now the danger is that from where we view our particular perspective on the light we can begin to believe that what we see is the absolute truth and that the light only shines through our window. That only our window offers the true representation of the light. That what others see through their window is false, even stupid and irrational. Forrest Church’s Universalism though is saying something very different. He is saying that each window conveys part of the truth and that no one window has a monopoly on the truth. He is echoing the words of the great twentieth century liberal theologian Paul Tillich who said “That which reveals also hides”.
I love Forrest vision of a 21st Century Universalist theology.
The light of Universalism continues to speak powerfully to me. I remember once describing myself as a Universalist to a friend, they asked me “What kind of Universalist I was?” I paused and thought for a moment and then I answered “I am a Universalist, Universalist”. I remembered at the time they looked at me as if I were a little mad, this is not the first time this has happened. So, I explained that I was a Universalist in the old sense. I do not believe in hell and damnation. That the God of my limited understanding would never condemn anyone to an eternity in Hell; I do not believe that some are saved and others are unsaved. I believe that God has an intimate love for all, that if there is a hell it is a state of being that can be experienced within life. I talked about the "Prodigal Son" parable, and I also spoke of my belief that this love is always there waiting for us. I also said that I was a universalist in a more modern understanding too in that I see truth in so many other traditions. That none can reveal the whole truth, that they are windows that let some of the light through. I also talked of a belief in the interconnectedness of all life and that all that happens and does not happen matters. That divinity is present within everything, a kind of Universal Love I suppose. So, I am a Universalist in three senses at least. I am actually a Universalist, Universalist, Universalist, I believe in a Hope that helps.
I can see how my present faith has been shaped in different and complimentary ways by the three figures Joseph Priestley, Dilworth Lupton and Forrest Church. They have helped form my spiritual understanding. They were also highly influential in their own right both within the Unitarian tradition, but also beyond. I hope they speak to you as they have spoken to me.
Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blog Spot"
