How Did We Get Here

Sermon March 29th 2026 (About UU History)

Sermon Par#1:  
History for Unitarian Universalists is complicated. 
In some ways, our religion is very old. 
In other ways, it is very young.
The roots of Unitarianism and Universalism 
go all the way back to early Christianity, 
when different groups struggled to define 
what it meant to follow the teachings of Jesus. 
Unitarianism formally emerged 
during the Protestant Reformation, and in 1568, 
the Edict of Torda issued by King Sigismund of Transylvania declared that preachers could teach according to their own understanding—including Unitarianism, 
a radical act of religious freedom for its time. 
Universalism emerged later proclaiming 
a God of love rather than damnation.
In the United States, Universalists organized in 1793. Unitarians followed in 1825. 
And then, in 1961, the two traditions consolidated 
to form what we now call Unitarian Universalism.
So in one sense, we are ancient. 
In another, we are barely sixty-five years old.
And to make it even more complex, 
the majority of us were not raised as Unitarian Universalists. We carry with us many religious and cultural inheritances. 

Having grown up in the Jewish tradition, 
I can say that heritage and culture 
were central to my religious upbringing. 
My own evolution of understanding tells me 
that although history cannot be the whole of religion, 
it is an essential part of it.
The stories, myths, culture, and scriptures of Judaism 
are still with me as part of my UU religion,  
but it doesn’t uniquely define me or my theology today.  
Similarly, our Unitarian Universalist history 
does not define us, but it is part of us. 
It helped shape who we are today, 
and it can still inform who we become.

Some traditions, history tells you what you must believe.
In others, it tells you how you must act.
In Unitarian Universalism, history does something different.
It invites us to ask:
What can we learn from the past that helps us 
become better people—and build a better world? 
Our history is not a cage. It is a guide.
One of the defining moments in that history 
came in the early 1800s.
At that time, Unitarians were still part of the Congregationalist churches 
(which is now part of the United Churches of Christ or UCC or as the old Unitarian joke goes, “Unitarians Considering Christ.”) 
Some Congregationalists were Trinitarian, 
others had Unitarian Ministers. 
They coexisted together until a breaking point came in 1805, when a Unitarian, Henry Ware, was appointed to lead Harvard Divinity School.
The Trinitarians did not like a Unitarian leading Harvard, and they then started their own divinity school  Andover Newton Seminary. 
Ironically in 2010, after the financial crisis, 
Andover Newton and the Unitarian Seminary Meadville Lombard had merger conversations. 
There are multiple reasons it did not happen, 
but Andover Newton a few years later merged instead with the more conservative Yale University, Harvard’s competitor. 
But I digress, 
Trinitarians started pressuring the Unitarian Ministers. 
Interestingly, one of the ways they did this was 
by refusing to share pulpits with them.  
You might think this not very important.  
But back in the day, 
people were expected to go to church twice a day. 
And the minister would preach for up to 2 hours
Once in the morning and again in the afternoon.  
(so please don’t complain when we go 5 minutes long)
Ministers instead of having to write two sermons each week would switch pulpits with other ministers nearby. 
Not being able to share pulpits created a  lot of extra work 
for the Unitarian Ministers.  
And in truth the Trinitarian ministers didn’t want 
the Unitarian message preached in their churches.   
Eventually, this and other tensions led to separation.

And into that moment stepped William Ellery Channing, often called the parent of American Unitarianism. 
His sermon “Unitarian Christianity” preached in 1819 
helped define a new path—one grounded not in doctrine, 
but in reason, conscience, and moral growth. 
This was radical.
To question miracles.
To critically analyze scripture.
To trust human reason.
These were not small shifts. They were seismic.
And from that foundation emerged 
a powerful theological idea: Self-Culture.
Channing described it as the responsibility each person 
has to develop and unfold their own nature—
to grow in thought, in moral principle, and in love. 
This was a religion not of fixed answers
but of human potential.

Self Culture is a theology of human beings' capacity for intentional growth.
This was not to be thought of in material terms 
(although Channing didn’t seem to be opposed to this).  
Improvement it was believed could be accomplished 
by looking within as a means of improving our character.  
I believe that is why we come together, 
and by that I do not just mean Unitarian Universalists, 
but why throughout history humanity has had
such a strong connection to communal religion. 
It is a way to remind ourselves of our possibilities, 
to remind ourselves of our connectedness to each other, 
and to remind ourselves as to what our best selves could one day be.  
Self Culture also posed the question as to the limits 
to what any one person’s potential could be.  
Rev. James Freeman Clarke stated  
“I do not believe that we are able to make of ourselves anything we please.” 
Now I knew this from a very young age, 
that no matter how hard I practiced 
I would never be the starting point guard for the New York Knicks.   

The point made throughout transcendentalist writings, though, is that we should not limit ourselves 
in our desire to grow.
To reach our own full potential whatever that may be.   
As I often say, I do know my limits until I pass them. 
And sometimes our thoughts about our ability are 
can become a self fulfilling prophecies for better or worse.  
While we believe in human potential, we also know:
Not everyone begins from the same place.
Not everyone has the same opportunities.
Not everyone has the same abilities.
And still everyone is worthy. 
We learned that equality is not the same as justice.
And understandably, there was always a critique.
If we focus only inward—on self-development
do we risk becoming self-absorbed? 
Detached from the suffering of the world?
Channing anticipated that critique. 
He insisted that true self-culture must be moral
it must include a commitment to the well-being of others. 
In other words:
Growth that does not lead to justice is not growth at all.

This is where our history begins to point us forward.
Because today, we might say that self-culture is not enough.
We are called not only to self-culture—but to inter-culture.
To understand not just ourselves, 
but one another and others who are not here
To widen the lens of wisdom 
to see that other people 
find other paths up to different mountaintops. 
To recognize that our flourishing 
and our liberation are bound together 
One way we sustain the flourishing of the Unitarian Universalists of Sarasota is through our weekly offering.


If you would like to make a donation to Unitarian Universalists of Sarasota here is a link
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Sermon Part 2:
I was reminded recently how hard it can be 
to explain Unitarian Universalism.
When we’re together—at a rally, at a meeting, in this building—we often assume a shared understanding. 
We speak the same language 
The language of justice, of compassion, and of community.
But step outside of these spaces, 
and sadly many people have never even heard of us.
So what do we say?
What is it that makes us uniquely who we are? 
What is a UU culture?
Recently, Catherine Bonner and I went to Ringling College 
to have lunch with students and some faculty 
at a monthly gathering they host 
to explore different religious groups. 
We had an hour to share with each other, 
and ask and answer questions. 
In a short time period you are forced to narrow down 
as succinctly as possible 
what is unique about Unitarian Universalism. 
After sharing our list of values, 
I kept coming back to the fact that the true uniqueness 
of Unitarian Universalism is our pluralism
Many religions speak of love.
Many speak of justice.
Many speak of belonging.
Like most religions we gather around the big questions 
Why are we here?
What is our purpose?
Why is there suffering?
How should we live our life?
What happens after we die?
We learn from multiple sources of religious wisdom 
including from nature and our experiences in the world. 
We invite people to make meaning in the world 
in ways that are meaningful to them. 

But we say something else as well:
We do not prescribe belief.
Instead of giving people answers, we say:
We create an environment to explore together.
That, to me, is who we are. 
That is our UU identity.
And that openness has a history too because
Once Unitarianism rejected the Trinity…
Once Universalism rejected eternal damnation…
Once we opened the door to questioning…
There was no closing it again.
People came—bringing new ideas, new traditions, 
new ways of understanding: spiritualists, Humanists, Buddhists, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, seekers of all kinds.
And in 1898, we formally affirmed freedom of belief.

We became a faith not defined by doctrine—but by covenant.
Covenant is one of the oldest parts of our tradition.
It goes back to the Puritans and the Cambridge Platform of 1648—agreements about how people would live together in community. 
Not what they would believe.
But how they would be with one another.
In a time when so many institutions 
ask you to check your doubts at the door, 
our covenant says: bring all of you,  your questions, your doubts, 
your whole self, and let's figure out how to be together.
That is still our question today:
How do we agree to walk together?
Especially when we do not always agree.
Because here’s the truth:
We are not a just a group of like-minded people 
who happen to gather on Sunday mornings.
We are Unitarian Universalists.
And that means something.

It means we inherit a tradition of religious freedom.
A tradition of questioning.
A tradition of transformation.
It also means we inherit a tradition of struggle.

We have taken stands for justice
sometimes boldly, sometimes imperfectly.
We are heirs to a long tradition of what “heresy” actually means. 
In its original Greek: choice. 
We chose to not accept the status quo 
except for those who chose to accept it. 
We chose to oppose slavery — except for those who chose silence or profited from it. 
We chose to fight for women’s suffrage and then complicated it with others insisting on everyone’s right to vote, 
including formerly enslaved people. 
We chose initially to support prohibition, 
except for those who chose to drink 
We chose to support LGBTQ Justice, reproductive justice, environmental justice, racial justice and immigration justice 
though not without disagreement over strategy and leadership
Over time, certain wars we chose to support 
and others we chose not to support, 
and each time there were those who chose to disagree.

We each have a choice to make. 
That is the beauty and challenge of Unitarian Universalism. 
There is an expectation that you will be open to listening,
to learning from one another and each other’s experiences.
And most of all, we ask you to do no harm.
Our history is not a story of uniform triumph. 
It is a story of people, often courageous, sometimes contradictory 
trying to live up to the highest values of their time 
and sometimes falling short. 
And then getting back up and trying again

We have moved forward—not because we were always right,
but because we were willing to keep choosing.
So where are we going?
Here’s where I think our history speaks most clearly.
It tells us:
Do not be trapped by the past.
But do not ignore it either.  I always liked what 
Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, founder of Reconstructionist Judaism, once said: “History gets a vote, but not a veto.”
We look back not to replicate, but to learn.
We see where we have lived our values well.
We see where we have fallen short.
We see how easily we can become disconnected 
from a changing world.
And we are reminded:
We do not stand on history. We move.  
But we do not move blindly.
We move with intention.
We move with humility.
We move with awareness that our outcomes 
are not always what we expect.
And most importantly—we move together.

So I return to the questions we began with:
Where do we come from?
We come from a tradition of freedom, reason, 
and the belief in human potential.
What are we?
We are a pluralistic, covenantal community—
committed to relationship.
Where are we going?
That….is completely unknown.
But if our history teaches us anything, it is this:
We are at our best
when we are open,
when we are courageous,
when we are willing to grow,
and when that growth leads not just to personal fulfillment
but to the healing of the world.
May it be so.