“WHAT’S IN A NAME?”©

An address to the Unitarian Society of Ridgewood by Ministerial Intern Edward Scott Michael

Delivered January 7, 2007

Error, repeated ten thousand times, reads like wisdom. ~Kenneth L. Patton

Some of you may recall the last address I gave here at the society. In that address I suggested that much of our experience happens at a level deeper and more powerful than language. I de-emphasized Language in that service very intentionally, deliberately placing the address at the beginning of the service, hoping that music and an inward listening would dominate the end of the service. But this was not because I believe language is not important – no, quite the contrary. I am concerned that Unitarian Universalists - reported to be the most educated denomination in the land - often focus too much on the mind’s love of reasoning and language. My address today deals with those themes directly by reflecting on the power of language.

Language is a system of shared symbols we call words. Words mean little in themselves; they point to something else.

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose

by any other name would smell as sweet.”

This famous quote from Romeo and Juliet presents one side of the tension inherent in language and naming, that what we name something does not change its nature – the rose still smells sweet. However, what we name things can change the world. And since how we name things influences our perceptions and attitudes, words can change us.

I have always been fascinated by words – their shades of meaning, their origins, how they sound. Reading great poetry for me is a sensual pleasure – I love how well chosen words feel coming out of my mouth. The speaking is an end unto itself – the fact that the poem means something is a beauty of another kind. As an undergraduate at UMBC I studied – English. Of my many great teachers, the most exacting was Dr Joan Korenman, an old fashioned grammarian and wordsmith. She had a most unusual grading method, complete with big red rubber stamps, - one with a smiley face (she didn’t use that much), a question mark, and a big NONSENSE stamp when she thought you were just making it up. She was very stingy with “A’s.” My first class with her was English 301 – Analysis of Literary Language. In this class we explicated poems.

The poems we used were no more than 20 lines. Dr Korenman asked us to examine the poems at a fundamental level – we were to dissect each poem word by word. To do this we had to use the Oxford English Dictionary – that 20-volume language reference that traces the meanings of words by citing their usage over time. We were to consult what the words meant when the poems were written. She wanted us to use this authoritative source to compose a story of meaning for each word, and then for the poem, and indeed to life itself. To my surprise, I composed 15 pages on 14 lines of poetry. It was astonishing in that work to see how often we use words and don’t know what they really mean. [

That same semester I took a class from Dr. Bill Edinger. The class was on British literature from the 17^th – 19^th centuries – Milton to Byron. In that class I was startled to learn that the first thorough English dictionary was published by Dr Samuel Johnson, in 1760. Before 1760 there was no definitive resource documenting the meanings of English words. Growing up in the 1960’s with a massive Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary in my Grandfather’s study, the very idea that one had nowhere to turn to ascertain definitions seems impossible and downright unfair.

What would it be like to have no dictionary?

Later while studying James Joyce I discovered that there had not been an English language Bible approved by the Vatican until the 1920’s – 400 years after the reformation. It dawned on me – language is more than science and definitions – it is power and political control.

As a sixth-grade teacher at Lakeland Middle School in South Baltimore I began to notice that language could oppress or liberate. I read closely the standardized tests my African American students had to take – and I was appalled at the cultural assumptions and language of privilege. I started thinking of the many ways we use language to limit, divide, and exalt ourselves. I began to see deliberately “high” levels of language, despite their beauty, resonance – and accuracy – as a means of separating people from one another by education. I began to love those who spoke truth plainly, like Abraham Lincoln and Rev Martin Luther King, Jr.

Language can indeed divide. Language also produces acts of justice and liberation. It can determine how we think about one another. Error, repeated ten thousand times, reads like wisdom. Consider gender-specific language. Not long ago, the word “mankind” was universally agreed to represent all of humanity. The UU hymnal from 1965, “Hymns for the Celebration of Life,” has an entire section titled “Man” – there is no section titled “Woman.” But something happened. Consciousness was raised. People spoke up, demanded to be included, and the words we used changed – and those words changed us. Thirty-five years later we know “mankind” leaves out half of humanity. We were open – we listened, we felt empathy, and we transformed thinking by changing our words. This is why it is important that same-sex couples call their legal partnerships marriages – so the world knows and will start to think their love is genuine, legal and spiritual.

Language is central to theology. We are the inheritors of a powerful faith with the potential to heal the world one soul at a time. The cornerstone of our faith is that we bind together by covenant - an agreement of how we will behave together. We are not bound to the language of a specific belief statement. Yet we live in the tension between that creedless commitment and a need to compose meaningful worship. Worship, the way we do it, is full of language. Words are the building blocks of our devotion. Among Unitarian Universalists the address is our most common ritual act – more than music, more than lighting the chalice. That is why the debate over the Language of reverence is central to our common religious life.

People have always debated what words are best to express and evoke reverence. Some claim today we cannot be taken seriously as a religious movement if we do not share a vocabulary that others recognize as religious and reverent. Yet what should that vocabulary be?

Our former Minister, Kenneth L. Patton, was a prolific writer of liturgy and verse, as well as books on religion and society. He was a humanist mystic, a man who believed he had tapped into a powerful vein of truth that could illuminate paths toward transformation. Patton declares, “Religion cannot operate without symbols.... Words are symbols....“Social action…entails concern with elaborating the symbols whereby society thinks, feels and is moved to act.” So it seems Ken Patton would agree with two things: the words we use are enormously important, and so the debate over the language of reverence is always a debate worth having.

Many of you may know one of my mentors at Seminary, The Rev David Bumbaugh. Bumbaugh, former Minister at the Unitarian Church in Summit delivered the eulogy here at Ken Patton’s memorial service. Bumbaugh believes Ken Patton is still not recognized as the important religious thinker he was. Bumbaugh also laments Humanism’s retreat into a defensive posture. He declares, “We [humanists] have manned the ramparts of reason and are prepared to defend the citadel of the mind against a renewal of superstition until the very end. But in the process of defending, we have lost the vocabulary of reverence, the ability to speak to that which is sacred, holy, of ultimate importance to us, the language that would allow us once more to enter into critical dialogue with one another.… The recovery of a vital vocabulary of reverence is a task of great urgency for those of us who cherish the humanist tradition.” Bumbaugh claims we are “asking the right questions and pointing to significant challenges” when we engage in the debate over the language of reverence. Now neither Bumbaugh nor Ken Patton suggests returning to traditional religious language, nor do I. “We need a vocabulary adequate to describe a universe that regularly confounds our expectations even as it rewards our attempts to know.” As of right now, we have no such vocabulary.

Ken Patton and David Bumbaugh are two humanists devoted to speaking reverently. Reverence - reverence is an attitude, an orientation of compassion and respect. When someone is filled with reverence, we can acknowledge that reverence, even if we do not agree with the words or rituals used to express it. Reverence is the opposite of arrogance. It belies an openness that allows for conversation and enables truth. Reverence is a way of being; it is vital to health and justice. Word choice is a tool of reverence. Reason and tolerance are necessary for word choice. Here, we covenant to be tolerant, to encourage one another to spiritual growth as we search for truth and meaning. Humility and compassion nourish truth. Here, we stay in the room, at the table, permitting all to speak as they are moved - honoring their reverence even if we reject their vocabulary or theology.

The language of reverence is not a return to traditional terms with which many do not resonate and from which many have fled. We all should be open to hearing how one another expresses truth and be tolerant of the fact that sometimes the only words people can find are words we may not use. This openness is nurtured by uninterrupted listening, the kind of sharing we do in our Connections groups. We long to be heard deeply. And we need to listen more intently to understand more clearly.

You may recall the Genesis story of the Tower of Babel. People had built a great tower reaching towards the sky and Yahweh felt threatened by humanity’s combined power. So God destroyed the tower, scattered the people, and made them all speak different languages so they could not understand one another. The orthodox view of this story is that God was angry at human pride and wanted to make it more difficult for people to unite and threaten his dominance. But that literal view misses the real beauty of the story. The story’s purpose is to remind us how hard it can be to communicate. It reminds us how important it is to work together, how interdependent we are. The story is a celebration of human reason, labor and language. Babble is all around us – we always strive to make sense of the world and what we say to one another.

Consider how wonderful it is if there is someone in your life who knows you well enough that you need not explain every little thing in detail. They just know – they get it. That wonderful feeling of being known is a relief from our everyday struggle to decipher the babble all around us.

We gather in religious community to compose worship that is moving and transformative. We negotiate together our language of reverence. Although our ultimate experiences happen in places more primal than language, we use words to reflect on that experience. We examine the language we use so our minds think in terms of inclusion and liberty, health and sanity. Just yesterday I was moved by folks at Marianne Ramirez’s memorial service as they reached for the right words – they knew it was important to say the right thing at that time, yet they also knew how hard it can be to find words to say all they wanted. Their love, their reverence - spoken with the bravest fire.

“Beneath all symbols and all signs, all images and names, there works the blind and questing force no poem ever tames.” This year I preach, sing and write, seeking truth in service of this sacred community. As I write each address, newsletter article, meditation and poem, I recall my task is to focus beyond myself and my own little universe onto that which is worthy of my most sincere devotion. I sometimes feel lost and alone, as if my wrestling for vision is an impossible dream. But then I look around, at my colleagues, at the members of this Society in glory or in mourning, at the books on my shelf, the pictures of ministers past, and I know I am in the right place doing the right thing, digging for truth.

Between my finger and my thumb the squat pen rests – I’ll dig with it.

Amen