At last, a chance to fulfil the unfulfilled promise of liberal, free-religion
As I have begun regularly to mention since the end of the pandemic, all things being equal — and I fully realise that things rarely are equal — but, all things being equal, I have only a few years before I retire in 2033. If I get there — when I will have been your minister for 32 years — this congregation will need to take a decision either to try to employ a new full, or perhaps, part-time minister, or to decide to adopt another model of ministry to proceed.
Although 7 years may seem distant, it is not long in a time, especially when many so old certainties are rapidly disappearing. Key challenges include the fact that:
All congregations, especially liberal ones, are shrinking, and those that survive will likely remain very small.
Denominations that train ministers are struggling, with many colleges and churches closing.
The cost of maintaining old, deteriorating church buildings, employing a minister, and providing suitable accommodation is rising phenomenally—especially in Cambridge.
Our wider social, political, cultural, and economic norms are changing rapidly, forcing traditional religious practices to adapt.
These and other factors mean it is highly likely that our small community will struggle a) find a suitable minister and b) afford one, whether full- or part-time.
Consequently — because I love all forms of creative, inquiring, free and liberative religion and I want them to find ways of flourishing in the future — I feel that one of my most important jobs over the next 7 years is to help this local congregation to begin trialling ways of proceeding that can help it, when the time comes, to move as smoothly and as creatively as possible beyond my own ministry and into a new, and I would hope, relevant, satisfying and exciting and way of being together in the world. I would also add that all the possibilities about how we might use our buildings to support such a community in the future are also tied to this process and, very soon, you will be hearing from your trustees about what they think it is genuinely possible for us to do. So watch this space — but please don’t pressure the trustees for detailed information just yet because they’re still working very hard and diligently to provide all of us with a set of possibilities that have been fully, and professionally, scoped.
But, of course, I do understand that some people will hear the preceding, partial litany, and feel thoroughly depressed at the considerable challenges and prospects we are now facing. Indeed, I confess to sometimes having felt this way too — it’s a big responsibility for us all.
However, since the beginning of the pandemic, when I first began to dive deeply into an exploration of the Japanese Yuniterian (sic) movement and the work of it’s key figure, Imaoka Shin’ichirō (1881-1988), I have found myself increasingly able to see in our difficulties an astonishingly rich opportunity for us to begin to practise the kind of creative, inquiring, free and liberative religion (jiyū shūkyō 自由宗教) that the Unitarian movement has long promised the world, but which — for complex social/political/economic reasons connected with the way it was forced to develop in Europe and North America between its founding in the 16th century and the present day — it has never quite been able to achieve.
Now, in terms of models of ministry — which I am centring upon today — a central, liberating aspect of Imaoka-sensei’s thinking relies upon the insight that if we wish to be a religious/spiritual community that is both truly “individualistic and free, and at the same time to be truly collective and social” then we must be democratic” and that “this democracy must be consistent not only in terms of its faith content but also in respect of its church politics.”
So, what did this look like for his own Unitarian congregation, the Tokyo Kiitsu Kyōkai? Well here’s what he said about this in 1950 in a piece called “The Purpose of Tokyo Kiitsu Kyōkai”:
“Therefore, we advocate for ‘congregationalism’ (会衆主義) and ‘layperson-ism’ (平教徒主義 heikōtoshugi). Worship and sermons are entrusted to volunteers from among the members. Consequently, at our Sunday gatherings, it is not guaranteed that we will always have eloquent sermons from great speakers. Nevertheless, we believe that the church does not belong to the pastor but to its members and, therefore, we highly value the mutual encouragement and assistance of all members. In this respect, one might say our church is in the style of the Quakers (クエーカー)” (The Purpose of Tokyo Kiitsu Kyōkai, Showa 25 [1950], September, “Creation” [創造], Issue No. 1).
Two years later, in 1952, in a piece for the Japan Broadcasting Corporation (NHK), Imaoka-sensei said the following:
“[F]ree-religion (jiyū shūkyō 自由宗教) is a natural consequence of the insistence that religion must not be borrowed, that it must be one’s own religion, and that the presence of monks and pastors is secondary in our religious life. If anything, our religious movement should take the form of a layperson’s movement (平徒運動 heito undō). Accordingly, whether temples or churches, they should not belong to monks or pastors, but to lay-people (平徒) in general (“My Position on Free-Religion” in “Creation,” NHK Broadcast, September, Shōwa 27 [1952])
And lastly, for today’s purposes anyway, Imaoka-sensei wrote in 1963 in a piece called “What is Free Religion?”:
“Ultimately, free-religion (jiyū shūkyō 自由宗教) is more about the religion of laypersons and non-specialists than the religion of experts. Isn’t it true that laypersons and non-specialists are often more deeply religious than experts? (“What is Free Religion?”, December, Showa 38 [1963], “Religion and the Modern World”).
I hope you have clearly heard in these words a strong belief that, at heart, free-religion (jiyū shūkyō 自由宗教) — which we in this congregation are translating as a “creative, inquiring, free and liberative spirituality” — is not a spirituality defined, controlled and practiced on our behalf by professional monks, priests, ministers or pastors, but a lay spirituality. A congregation that is a true an expression of jiyū shūkyō must be one in which, to repeat Imaoka-sensei’s words, “worship and sermons are entrusted to volunteers from among the members” all of whom are working together for “the mutual encouragement and assistance of all members.”
But moving to this way of being spiritual and religious together — in a way that is genuinely strong, sustainable, powerful and ultimately rewarding for all involved — is not easy. The chief problem — or at least the first major presenting difficulty in making such a move — is that when you have a minister it is always too easy to default back to relying on the minister to do things. This, by the way is not a complaint, but simply a statement of fact; under the prevailing circumstances, it’s perfectly natural to do this. But, I should also add that many ministers — though they may complain — quite like experiencing this dynamic because it makes them feel indispensable and extra-special. Again, this is an understandable feeling to have — for who doesn’t, at times, like feeling indispensable and extra-special! But I’ve increasingly become of the opinion that professional ministers of the old-school kind (and inevitably I am still mostly operating as an old-school minister) are today no longer necessary, and that, as persons, they are only special in the same way that everyone is special in some unique fashion.
Anyway, given that this dynamic is so embedded in our current structures, if we wish to move beyond it then we need to find ways gently, slowly, and healthy to dissolve these same structures.
If you think my analysis is correct then the gentle process of dissolving can very gently begin this year as I am going away on four months of sabbatical leave over two periods, April-May and then August-September, and the Future Directions group is already beginning to prepare for this. I hope you will feel inspired to bring your own contributions to this time of possible change.
At the very least it will be a chance for all of us to begin to get a first taste of the kind of lay, free-religious spiritual community we might choose, and be able to become, over the next 7 years.
But, ultimately, none of this is for me to decide, but for this community to decide.
Comments