Red, White, and UU
by the Rev. Cynthia L.G.
Kane
Service at UUCSS on October 19,
2003
Reading
The American Commitment: from "About Being an American"
delivered at All Souls Unitarian Church, Washington,
DC, on 26 May 1946
A. Powell Davies
The American commitment is to universal justice, the rights for all
people, not the special interests of some. It is a commitment to fair
play, to patience, to tolerance, to neighborliness. It is a commitment
to the common good. It protects liberty with unity, the opportunity of
each with the good of all. It is compassionate, humanitarian. It believes
in humanity and in its future. It is the Golden Rule. It is based upon
the claim of conscience and the faith in goodness. It begins not in a
system but within the heart.
It battles prejudice and false opinion. It seeks the truth. It is opposed
to barriers of exclusiveness. Its principles are universal. It despises
cowardice, including moral cowardice. But it also has no use for obstinacy,
inflexibility, and intolerance. It prefers honesty to cleverness, kindness
to self-sufficiency, goodwill to narrow-minded aims. It is a way of life
now and a faith, a vision of the future. It is a purpose to be served.
If anyone asks by what right I define these characteristics as American,
I point him [sic] to those Americans the rest of us revere as great.
I say that America is defined by the moral progress she has sought, and
by exemplars, not by the hour of perfidy and by her little-minded, greedy
foes.
And if anyone tells me that these characteristics are more than American,
that they are universal, I will reply that that is why they are American.
Because this nation was not founded on the divisive and the separate,
but upon the rights of all people. Can we restore these standards? Can
we seek again the touch of greatness?
The future will depend upon the answer. Upon what takes place in heart
and conscience. A nation, like an individual, must have a soul.
—A. Powell Davies, Without Apology: Collected
Meditations on Liberal Religion,
ed. Forrester Church (Boston: Skinner House,
1998), p. 75f.
Sermon
Red, White, and UU [1]
A Sermon Delivered at
Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring
Silver Spring, Maryland
Sunday 19 October 2003
Rev. Cynthia L. G. Kane
Lieutenant, Chaplain Corps, United States Navy
"So help me God." These are words I say all the time. Much
like the chaplain who noticed a young boy staring up at a large plaque
that hung in the foyer of the chapel. The plaque contained several names
and small American flags mounted on either side of it. The boy had been
staring at the plaque for some time, so the chaplain walked up, stood
beside him and said quietly, "Good morning."
" Good morning, Chaplain," replied the boy, still focused
on the plaque. He asked, "Chaplain, what is this?"
" Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who
died in the service."
Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque. The boy's
voice was barely audible, trembling with fear, when he asked, "Which
service, the 9 o'clock or the 11 o'clock?"
We come here this morning, as stated in our opening words, "to
renew our faith…and to reaffirm the way of the open mind and full
heart…to reclaim the vision of an earth made fair, with all her
people one." [2] And
we do so in the "wondrous gift of free religious community." A
wondrous gift, indeed, for ours is a faith grounded in the virtues of
justice, liberty, and charity. Our faith—like that of "The
American Commitment" which we heard in this morning's reading by
A. Powell Davies—is committed "to the common good." [3] So
help us, God…or whatever it is that binds you to an authority greater
than yourself…whatever it is you call upon in times of need for
strength, comfort, wisdom, guidance…whatever it is you know to
be holy, sacred, and divine…
I come before you this morning in an interesting position of being a
Unitarian Universalist minister serving in the military. So helped by
God through much soul searching and a circuitous route, this is a position
into which I did not go easily, or directly.
I was commissioned to the Chaplain Corps of the United States Navy
on 21 August 2001. My call to Naval Chaplaincy came sixteen years ago
during my sophomore year of college. A calling I kept quiet, for I did
not understand it. Nor did it make sense to me, for a variety of reasons.
First and foremost, I am a pacifist. There are assorted pacifist individual
and group schools of thought: [4] some
object international war, though advocate revolution for suppressed nationalities;
others object offensive, not defensive war; and still others object all
war, though support maintaining a police force. I was among the camp
that objected to all coercive and disciplinary force.
The goal of pacifism is total, enduring peace. And I maintained then
(as I still do today) that violence only begets violence. So I wondered
how could I be a part of an institution whose mission seems counter to
the "advocacy of opposition to war through individual or collective
action against militarism"? [5]
I was born and raised in the Midwestern United States. I grew up with
no exposure to or experience of fighting or hostility. I was a child
during Viet Nam, and my parents and family were neither engaged with
nor seemingly affected by the happenings both here and abroad. The only
war I knew was that of the Cold War. [6] In
my budding adolescent/young-adult mind, the Cold War was greatest war
ever. While political tension existed between the United States and the
former Soviet Union, there was no open, armed conflict; just a grand
show of our missiles being bigger than theirs.
Knowing we humans have been fighting one another since the beginning
of time and it was unlikely in my—in our—lifetime that we
would ever see all human hostilities completely calmed, this type of
Cold Warfare posturing seemed progress in achieving peace. Thus, my initial
reservations of being a pacifist and being in the military abated. Be
it naïveté or denial, in all honesty, it never occurred to
me that there would be a full-on war.
The other, equally challenging, issue I had was a matter of faith.
Ours is a faith that "is opposed to barriers of exclusiveness" and "battles
prejudice and false opinion." [7] As
Unitarian Universalists we are devoted to diversity and dismantling oppressions.
So I wondered, how could I be a part of an institution whose policies
are counter to our Unitarian Universalist faith that affirms and promotes
the inherent worth and dignity of every person? How could I willingly
affiliate with an institution that maintains discriminating policies?
An institution that prohibits women from serving in certain arenas, and
prohibits gay men and lesbians from serving openly.
All institutions have their flaws. All institutions have a spotted
history, parts of which would like to be ignored, if not omitted. And
part of the military's questionable past has been discriminating policies—policies
enacted by our Congress and embraced by our military—policies,
for instance, against Black Americans and women.
Black Americans and women have been a part of every American war since
the American Revolution. Yet for some time, both groups were prohibited—in
part or in full—from military service. Blacks were commonly assigned
to manual labor. Women served in silence, disguising themselves as men
to hide their identities; once permitted to serve, women were assigned
to the administrative jobs. Neither group was able to be in a combatant
role. Both were discharged when the war ended.
Similarly, in 1993, Congress enacted the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell,
Don't Pursue, Don't Harass" policy; its name describes what military
members are prohibited from doing. Regardless of sexual orientation and
rank, military personnel are not allowed to ask if a person is gay or
lesbian, nor are they allowed to they tell if they are. Nor are military
personnel allowed to purse investigation into or harass anyone they might
suspect or otherwise know is gay or lesbian. Considering Congress' previous
position about gay men and lesbians serving in the military—which
there was no set policy—this policy, despite its flaws, was progress.
As Unitarian theologian James Luther Adams notes, "Revelation is
continuous." Congress eventually had its own revelation, and saw
fit to change the prejudicial policies concerning race and gender. Congress
likewise has the authority to lift the ban on gay men and lesbians serving
openly in our military. Though military officials might support "Don't
Ask, Don't Tell," it is our responsibility to tell our Senators
and Representatives how we feel about legislations—particularly
ones that are counter to our faith that affirms and promotes equity and
acceptance of one another. "We the people" have the power to
facilitate the process of revelation. So while "Don't Ask, Don't
Tell" remains, I have faith in our Unitarian Universalist commitment
and our "American Commitment…to universal justice [and to]
the rights for all people." So help us God.
"So help me God." These were the last words I—along
with countless men and women for 228 years—spoke as a civilian,
and the first ones as a member of our United States military. Words I
spoke emphatically, for I knew I needed to call upon something greater
than myself following my call to Navy Chaplaincy and to help fulfill
this awesome and daunting commitment I made to ministering to the spiritual
needs of the men and women in our armed forces.
The oath that I took—and all military personnel take—upon
entering the service is similar to that taken by our Presidents, other
government officials, and those becoming United States citizens: to "support
and defend the Constitution of the United States" and to "bear
true faith and allegiance to the same. So help [us] God." Each of
us volunteered to be a part of something much bigger than ourselves,
uphold and protect the ideals in our Constitution. And each of us sealed
the deal with the prayerful plea, seeking divine aid in our endeavors.
Our Constitution—as we recall from our studies during seventh
grade civics class—is a document full of wise practical detail,
embodying the famous principle of the "separation of powers":
federal authority divided equally between an executive, legislative,
and judicial branch; each one keeping the other in check and in balance.
The first ten amendments—the Bill of Rights—guarantee individual
civil liberties. The first of these is:
"Congress shall make no law respecting
an establishment of religion, or prohibiting
the free exercise thereof; or abridging the
freedom of speech, or of the press; or the
right of the people peaceable to assemble,
and to petition the Government for a redress
of grievances."
This Amendment guarantees freedom for people to maintain their religious
belief and practice, for people to hold their own thoughts and opinions,
for people to express their convictions. These are the very principles
we as Unitarian Universalists hold sacred. Some of the most prominent
apostles of free religious inquiry—John Adams, Benjamin Franklin,
and Thomas Jefferson—greatly influenced the formation of our Constitution.
So for me, there is perfect integrity in being a Unitarian Universalist
and serving in the military; the institution whose sole purpose it to
support, defend, and bear allegiance to the U.S. Constitution. It is
just like supporting, defending, and bearing allegiance to our Principles
and Purposes. Likewise, I believe that any patriotic American is able
to find a home in Unitarian Universalism, for the principles of our faith
are embedded within the very foundation of our nation and its ideals.
As a member of the military, however, I tell you from experience—both
professionally and personally—it is not so easy to be at home in
our movement. This is why during Divinity School I kept my intentions
to go into the Navy Chaplaincy a secret. At the graduation ceremony,
our future plans were announced, and it was there and then my intentions
were disclosed. I was outed! My colleagues and classmates were confrontational
and condemning. "You're going into the military? How can
you be both, a UU and in the military?" they would ask. "I'll
let you know once I find out," I would reply. Twenty-one days after
my commissioning were the September 11th, 2001, terrorist attacks, and
I began to find out.
There is a schism between being a member of the military and a Unitarian
Universalist. That September, I shook my fist at an impassive heaven,
protesting to God, "You said nothing about a war!" Meanwhile,
the same colleagues who earlier criticized me began protesting the prospects
of war, yet sought me out to shake my hand and say, "Thank God there's
one of us in there."
As the tension in our world increased, so too did the tension felt
by our Unitarian Universalist military personnel. Here is an excerpt
from an email I received from the only Unitarian Universalist family
on my base:
"I have found it very hard lately to
be UU and go to my church being a military
wife. The attitude towards the military is
certainly better now that 30 years ago, but
still it is hard… It is like walking
a very thin line. And it seems at time you
can't be both things, UU and part of the military.
Both look down on you for not supporting itself
sometimes."
During Operation Iraqi Freedom, I received several other emails. This
excerpt is from written by a Navy Commander—who, along with his
wife, had been an active member of his congregation—wondering what
to do about this tension and opposition:
"I have…trouble dealing with the
UUA's position that, essentially, it has no
position…while all information the UUA
puts out is clearly opposed to this war and
to any other use of the U.S. armed forces,
in war or peace, under any circumstances. [Therefore]
I have a lot of trouble doing anything that
would remotely support the UUA. I say this
with considerable discomfort, because I think
[our movement] should have a strong denominational
voice…and because I take what I see as
our religious principles very seriously…
I have been very disturbed to see the UUA's
token effort to care for service members turned
into an attack on them. That has happened to
me..."
The Unitarian Church in Norfolk, Virginia—located in the same
city as the Atlantic Fleet Headquarters and the largest operating Navy
base in the United States—has a congregation with approximately
10% military personnel. As their minister, the Rev. Danny Reed, noted
in the past issue of the UU World:
" Nobody said [our congregants who serve
in the military] weren't welcome, but there
is so much opposition to what they do. One
soldier said he seeks church as a refuge: He
takes the notion of sanctuary seriously to
be fortified for the week ahead. But as he
walks through the door somebody flips him a
leaflet about the peace march that afternoon." [8]
Granted, the United States Constitution guarantees the right for someone
to distribute such literature, and to do so wherever they so choose.
Though, as one colleague who works with Planned Parenthood commented,
it is no different than if someone—who knows of this colleague's
work with a women's right to choose—were handed a Pro-Life leaflet
by one of her congregants. "It's proselytizing," she claims,
in a place she considers spiritually safe and sustaining.
Please don't get me wrong here. I am not saying it is wrong for a person
to express their opinions or deeply held convictions. Rather, what I
am calling for is sensitivity. Sensitivity and open-mindedness—especially
to people with differing views and practices. After all, is this not
the essence of Unitarian Universalism? Freedom, reason, and tolerance.
Is not our commitment "to fair play, to patience…to neighborliness"? [9]
I also am calling for recognition. Recognition of our own struggles
and our own biases. Our faith is "not founded on the divisive and
the separate," yet there are certain ways we need to "restore
these standards." [10]
Mostly, I also am calling for understanding. Understanding that we
who have made the choice to serve in the military have done so for our
own particular reasons. Though initially my call to Navy Chaplaincy did
not make sense, it does to me now: Since conflict and fighting have been
a part of human history since the beginning of time, then for me to do
the work of peace, I must understand the making of war.
So in this lifetime, I am doing what I am called to do: affirm and promote
the goal of world community, with peace, liberty, and justice for all.
So too are we, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist
Association. Our commitment is that of the American Commitment: a commitment
to "a way of life now and a faith, a vision of the future"? [11]
"The future will depend upon…what takes place in heart and
conscience," concludes Davies. "A nation, like an individual,
must have a soul." We—you and I—we are a part of our
nation's soul. We too are patriots who cherish the rights and privileges
of this country. And we too support and defend her ideals through the
very practice of our faith. Our country needs us. And we, in the military,
need you. So help us God.
May God bless the whole world, no exceptions.
In so doing, may God bless the UUA.
Amen
Endnotes:
[1] With thanks
to the Rev. Victoria Weinstein for loaning me the title of this sermon.
As well, I am grateful for her presence as a sounding board, sound advisor,
and tranquilizer.
[2] David Pohl, "We
Come to This Time and Place," Singing the Living Tradition (Boston:
Beacon Press, 1993), Opening Words, number 436.
[3] A. Powell
Davies, "The American Commitment," Without Apology: Collected
Mediations on Liberal Religion, Forrester Church, ed. (Boston: Skinner
House, 1998), p. 75f.
[4] "Pacifism," The
Columbia Viking Desk Encyclopedia, II, 2nd ed. (New York: Viking Press,
1960) p. 994.
[5] Ibid.
[6] The Nixon-Carter-Reagan-Bush#1/Brezhnev-Andropov-Chernenko-Gorbachev
Cold War.
[7] Davies,
p. 75.
[8] Danny Reed
quoted in Neil Shister, "Embattled Faith," UUWorld, July/August
2003, p. 18.
[9] Davies,
p. 75.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Ibid.
Closing Hymn
The New Patriot
Revised Number 243, Hymns for the Celebration of Life
Truro L.M.
Words: Frederick Lawrence Knowles, 1869-1905, and Cynthia Lynnette
Gerhart Kane, 1967 –
Music: Thomas Williams' Psalmodia Evangelica, 1789
Who is the patriot? One who lights
The torch of war from hill to hill?
Or one who kindles on the heights
The beacon of a world's good will?
Who is the patriot? It is one
Who knows no boundary, race or creed,
Whose nation is humanity,
Whose wider country kin, all souls that need.
Who is the patriot? Only one
Whose keenest sword is sympathy,
Whose business is the general good,
Whose dearest flag is community.
About the Rev. Kane
Chaplain Cynthia L. G. Kane, LT, CHC, USNR
Chaplain Kane was born on All Souls' Day 1967, in Arlington Heights,
Illinois—a fitting date for one with a lifelong attraction to matters
of the spirit. At an early age, she was an avid and prolific musician,
and first felt called to the ministry at age eight. Chaplain Kane pursued
her enduring interests in music and religious studies during her undergraduate
studies at the University of Bristol, in Bristol, England, and Newcomb
College of Tulane University, in New Orleans, Louisiana, where she received
a Bachelor of Arts degree in 1989, as well as her initial call to Navy
Chaplaincy. She then attended Harvard Divinity School, in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, graduating with a Master of Divinity degree in 1996. That
same year, Chaplain Kane received preliminary fellowship in the Unitarian
Universalist Parish Ministry (later switching to Community Ministry)
and was ordained by the First Parish in Bedford, in Bedford, Massachusetts.
Chaplain Kane's formal ministry began in 1992 at Brigham and Women's
Hospital, in Boston, Massachusetts, where she served as a Hospital Chaplain
for seven years. During the summers, she also served as the Chaplain
at Ferry Beach, Saco, Maine, from 1996 until 1999. Chaplain Kane continued
her ministry as a Hospital Chaplain at Queen's Medical Center, in Honolulu,
Hawaii, while completing an advanced Clinical Pastoral Education residency
with Pacific Health Ministries. In 2000, she moved to Washington, District
of Columbia, to serve as the Director of the Campus Ministry Program
for Unitarian Universalist Students (CampUUs) in the Joseph Priestly
District.
Her call to Naval Chaplaincy was finally fulfilled in August 2001, when
she received a commissioned to the Chaplain Corps of the United States
Navy. Upon completion of Chaplain School in Newport, Rhode Island, Chaplain
Kane began her position of as the Command Chaplain at Naval Surface Warfare
Center, Indian Head, Maryland (NSWC IHDIV). Next October, she is slated
to move to San Diego, California, where she will serve on the USS STENNIS
(CVN 74).
Chaplain Kane has received the Navy Achievement Medal, Meritorious Unit
Commendation award, the National Defense Medal, and a Tan Belt in the
Marine Corps Martial Arts Program. Currently, she is a student at the
Naval War College, while also training for the Marine Corps Marathon
and taking improv classes with Washington Improv Theatre (W!T).
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