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Do College Kids Need Religion?
A Sermon Given
by The Rev. Roger Fritts
on October 24, 1999
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
As those of you who read the church newsletter are aware, for this
sermon I invited people to write me letters. I receive several short
replies, and four people took the time to write letters with
considerable detail about their religious development. I want to
read to you selections from these letters. One came from a man
now in his early 70s. He wrote:
In response to your invitation to send information on one's
religious views at ages eighteen to twenty-eight, I would
say the ages eighteen to twenty-four were the most
formative years of my religious growth. For me, 1944
through 1950 were years of military service and
undergraduate studies.
Throughout my growing-up years, I understood there was
a loving God, the father, creator and CEO of the Universe,
and his devoted and inspired son, Jesus, a vital role model.
The religious emphasis of my liberal Baptist parents was
love and moral character. Although I attended several
different Sunday schools and was a choir boy in the
Anglican church for several years, my mind was apparently
impervious to notions of original sin, of guilt under the
constant scrutiny of a forbidding God, and of the torments
of hell . . .
I don't think I did rebel against the faith of my childhood so much
as I rejected the prominence and importance of God in the lives of
my navy buddies and in society in general . . . It disturbed me how
often people ascribed personal good fortune or the bare avoidance
of misfortune to God when so many others were devastated or
killed in the same circumstance. The prevailing notion of prayer as
manipulation of an indulgent parent seemed to me childish. Such
a partisan or whimsical God was not the God of my childhood and
seemed unworthy of respect, let alone devotion. Undergraduate
studies only confirmed my distaste for the orthodox images of God,
and an intense rejection of all institutional forms of orthodox
Judeo-Christian religion.
This man, raised by liberal religious parents, found that his
undergraduate studies confirmed his religious liberalism. Another
letter came from a woman, now in her early 60s. She found
Unitarianism while in college, and in a small Unitarian Fellowship
she met the man she married. She wrote:
When I was eighteen, I was a sophomore in college, a
small, woman's college. I was technically a Methodist. (I
had chosen Methodism because I loved learning the
catechism and thought the baptism of sprinkling with a rose
dipped in water was much preferable to immersion in the
local creek.)
My freshman year I had been active in the local church, a
beautiful old church with a star-shaped ceiling. I tried hard
to reconcile the questions I had, since age eleven, with
Christianity. I remember vividly trying to pray at the altar,
trying to convince myself that it was possible to live with
the friendship and ritual of the church while not believing
in the underpinnings. I had read the Bible cover-to-cover
the summer I was eleven, a contest in Vacation Bible
School to see who could read the most verses. I won. Our
little country village was too small to support a full time
minister, so we had a Methodist one Sunday, a Baptist the
next, and a Presbyterian for the summer revival.
Comparisons do lead to questions. I spoke to our Baptist
minister about my Bible reading. He was a wise,
sophisticated, well-educated man who had probably been
put out to pasture because of his liberal thinking. I asked
him if the story of Adam and Eve wasn't a myth like the
Greek and Roman myths I had read. He answered yes and
said that most people needed to believe in the myths while
others could believe in the truth underlying them. At least,
I think that's what he said. All I truly remember was the
"Yes."
In college . . . I felt like such a hypocrite, a word that I'd
been brought up to think was almost worse than the word
"sinner." So I stopped going to church. That's very difficult
in a small college in a small, isolated town where the
Baptists, the Methodists, the Presbyterians have college reps
actually on campus, where the local Catholic parish has a
gorgeous, redheaded priest, where Christianity is assumed
to be everyone's religion, and where "Religious Emphasis
Week" is a big deal on campus. I could not avoid church
on weekends at home, although I avoided it some by that
good old college escape valve, sleeping in. I don't
remember EVER discussing my religious questions and
thoughts with my parents or my friends.
My cover got blown when I was a senior in college. As a
member of our traveling debate team, I was asked to lead
a Religious Emphasis Week discussion following the main
lecture by our visiting dignitary, a middle-aged, Scottish
Presbyterian minister. The topic for the week was Ethics. In
my usual obliviousness to personal danger, I set the stage
for the discussion by reviewing the week and asking the
opening question, "Is it possible to live an ethical life
without being a Christian?" Boom. Pow. Zowie and
Shazam. The Presbyterian Scots minister lit into me with
blazing guns, blazing eyes, and blazing words. He did what
I had been taught in debate class never to do: He attacked
the person instead of the argument. I demurred that I wasn't
debating or arguing but posing a question that I thought
would foster discussion. It did no good. I don't even
remember how I got through the rest of that meeting. I do
remember the stunned looks on the faces of professors and
students. In the aftermath, the Baptist campus rep came to
my room and wanted me to pray with her that my faith
would be restored. One of my classmates, a lovely, sweet
girl, came to me privately and said she thought I was very
brave to voice my doubts. She said she also had doubts but
was afraid to raise them. I guess she resolved them since
she later married a minister.
My favorite psych professor, who had tried to get me to
major in his department, invited me to go with his family
to the Unitarian church, which I did. He soothed my bruised
feelings and eventually did more for me than that.
When I graduated from college and moved to another city,
on my first job, he notified the fellowship there of my
presence. I received an invitation to visit the fellowship,
accepted it, and went to the local college where the
meetings were held. (At least they were held there until the
mother of one of the Unitarian "converts" raised cain with
the college administration and the local paper reported on
the "Pinko" Unitarians in their midst.) The fellowship
members, who all seemed to me to be so old, so settled, so
married, were thrilled to have someone so young join them.
One lady told me I was the only single girl in the
fellowship but that they did have three bachelor members
and they were coming in just now. It flashed in my mind,
"I'm going to marry one of them," and I did . . . I was
twenty-two. Thus, the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
A third letter came from a woman who is in her early 30s. Unlike
the first two writers who were raised in traditional Protestant
religions, this writer grew up right here in our church. She wrote:
I attended Cedar Lane Unitarian Church from the time I
was quite young (as far back as I can remember) until
graduating from high school. Between the ages of twelve
and eighteen, I was very involved in church activities
(youth group, R. E. classes, Youth Adult Committee) all of
which contributed to my understanding of Unitarian
Universalism and what it means to me personally. While in
college I joined a Unitarian Universalist fellowship in the
town, but since college, my presence at any religious event
or activity has been very infrequent. (However, I live in the
area and do make it to Cedar Lane for the Christmas
services!)
Interesting to me is that in all of this, I have never felt
surer of "what" I am. Despite being a skeptic, and not a
"joiner" type of person, I know I am a Unitarian
Universalist -- it's a significant part of my identity as a
person. My spiritual and religious journey will be life long,
and surely filled with unexpected twists and turns, but
Unitarian Universalism will be my "companion" on that
journey. I benefit from it now and look forward to it being
so in the future.
So how did this happen? Ten years of no regular (formal)
religious activity and yet I know with certainty that
Unitarian Universalism and I are a match? I think it was the
combination of excellent (challenging, enlightening,
nurturing) religious education at Cedar Lane and finding an
equally challenging enlightening religious community while
in college. The Unitarian Universalist Fellowship I attended
in college was with a totally different group of people (all
strangers to me at first, but a good mix of "townies" [young
and old] and college students, and there was a very
different structure to the group and activities (no minister,
for one!) But my journey (religious and spiritual), continued
in this new environment. Looking back on it now, I think
attending a Unitarian Universalist Fellowship while in
College probably solidified Unitarian Universalism as being
the "right choice" for me. It set me on the path I feel quite
sure of now.
The fourth of these letters came from a young man who is in his
late 20s. The first three accounts describe religious searches taking
place within mainstream American religion. This fourth writer has
explored new, non western religious groups:
I have always been fascinated by religion, especially
odd sects and cults. My father is Catholic and my
mother is Jewish, though not practicing, and I was
raised in the Church with some exposure to Jewish
holidays such as Passover and Hanukkah. At the age
of thirteen while reading about the Reformation in
World History class, I decided I was a Lutheran.
(The thought processes behind this "conversion"
were not exactly clear, but I think I had some sort
of five-centuries-too-late outrage over the selling of
Indulgences.). At the age of fourteen I encountered
the Baha'i Faith and considered myself a Baha'i for
about a year and a half. I drifted toward a more
New Agey set of beliefs for a year or two, and then
as a sixteen-year-old I converted to a form of
Japanese Buddhism for about seven months before
I snapped out of it. During my first year of college
I encountered the teachings of a Guru [from the
Hindu tradition]. I was involved with his group for
five years. I left because I became convinced that
[the leader] was insane or at least thoroughly
corrupted and/or deluded, and my attitude toward
religion after leaving was (and, really, remains)
quite negative . . . I had a brief fling with Subud [a
movement founded by an Islamic religious leader
from Indonesia]. (I was attracted to the promise of
the direct experience of God with no dogmas or
guru-figures). But I never felt the same divine
presence or energy or whatever that the other Subud
folk did -- I felt nothing at all, and being
surrounded by people speaking in tongues and
singing and whirling about was just alarming. So
since leaving
Subud I have considered myself a hardcore, militant,
total atheist . . . I do feel finally "settled" in the
rationalist/atheist camp.
So what's a nice atheist boy like me, getting
involved with a church for? For whatever reason,
the service I attended [at Cedar Lane] didn't give
me the willies the way most any other church
service would. (I amazed myself by singing hymns
about God without breaking out in hives.) I guess
apart from the "God" thing I feel a certain affinity
with Unitarianism as I understand it. I do find
myself drawn to participation in a religious
community, if the term "religious" is broad enough
to include ethical non theism.
These four letters point to the diversity of each individual's
religious journey:
- One man, raised a liberal Baptist, was disturbed by people who
ascribing personal good fortune or the bare avoidance of
misfortune to God when so many others were devastated or
killed in the same circumstance.
- A woman left behind tradition Protestant religion as she came
to believe that the story of Adam and Eve was a myth like the
Greek and Roman myths she had read.
- Another woman was raised in this church. In college, she found
a home in the local Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in the
small town where she went to school.
- And a young man writes of having tried four different religions
in his teenage and young adult years, with his search leading
him recently to us.
Yet there are also common themes:
- First, each of these letters describes a person who is looking for
a religious community where they can say what they believe
and be who they are with intellectual integrity.
- Second, all of the statements describe people who, when they
were young adults, wrestled with important religious questions
and sometimes found themselves alone in that process,
sometimes at odds with the group they were in.
- Third, all four realized that they needed other people -- not just
any community, but a religious community. Not just people
who would support them emotionally, but people who would
sustain them in their religious viewpoints. They struggle
theological and ethical questions, and they struggle with the
loneliness that comes with leaving home for college or for a
new job.
Finally, these letters remind me that young adults are seldom
institutionalists. They are seldom big givers of money and seldom
chairpersons of major committees. However, when we are blessed
by their presence, what we gain is their energy, their exuberance,
and their provocative questioning. Those of us who have moved
out of the student stage into the householder stage of life, or the
elder stage of life will always continue to carry the major
responsibility for the maintenance of the institution. That is our
role, and part of that responsibility is supporting a campus ministry
to these young people who are in universities and colleges. In
return we receive inspiration from these wonderful young people
and from this new life that is growing and developing in our midst.
cluuc@his.com
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