Theological Musings for 2016

It's already the 11th and I have not yet written anything to mark this new year!

First, I want to say that in rereading some of my old posts that were not about singing, particularly the ones about same-sex marriage, sexism, and ageism, I see that they are good pieces of writing that can stand on their own, and that I would be proud to read at any writers' workshop.  So I am going to write more of these.

As for my singing, as the huge endlessly frustrating technical problems that I struggled with for years seem now to be at an end, there is less to write about, unless I have sung something somewhere or am making plans.  Every now and then I will have a "bad day" (my teacher and I had a talk about this at my last lesson) but for the most part I have a reliable technique that will stand me in good stead in most situations I am likely to find myself in.

I have two concerts scheduled for 2016: a reprise of the concert version of Carmen (on May 2), and my birthday concert (on July 31).

I have been able to squelch the envy that can overtake me by simply shutting out the world of all the emerging professionals, semi-pros, and others who flock to my neighborhood (the opera Mecca of the world).  I don't go to their performances or read their blog postings or comments.  Little Miss is mostly gone from the choir.  Yes, I am still, somewhere, seething that she has performed with two of the opera companies that rejected me, and that the choir director forwards her email announcements when he never forwarded mine, but my next concert, at least, will only be open to guests over 60 so there!!

Now, as for the title of this post.  One thing I was pondering recently was why, on the one hand, I always define myself theologically as a Unitarian, when, on the other hand, I don't like attending their services.  I think I finally came up with an answer.  I was reading a piece about Unitarians and Christmas that really resonated with me. This was back when Unitarians celebrated Christmas, which now seems to be one of the many sources of friction at their congregations, along with classical music and Biblical art.  Reading that article made me realize that what I am is a nineteenth-century style "Unitarian" not a contemporary "UU".  Suddenly an image came to mind, an image of a large tree.  Judaism is the roots, because of course Christianity grew out of Judaism, and the trunk is what people think of as "JudeoChristian" culture and values.  The tree now has many branches, some of which are fundamentalist, and some of which more liberal, like Reform Judaism and mainline Protestantism, all of which denominations accept same-sex marriage and tend toward the political Left.  Unitarianism used to be a branch of mainline Protestantism.  One that had been growing away from strict doctrine, yes, but still attached to the tree (for example the Unitarian church in Brooklyn where I grew up featured traditional church music, and the choir wore robes).  Now, however, I feel that "UU-ism" has fallen off the tree and is another plant entirely, and it is that with which I am not comfortable.  Having been raised as an atheist, I certainly don't feel rooted in JudeoChristian doctrine, but I do feel rooted in Western culture, much of which involves JudeoChristian music, art, and stories.  How one interprets the art, music, and stories is another matter.  So for example, I see most Bible stories as myths or parables, not as things that happened.  I do not believe that Jesus was the only Son of God, simply a person who was killed for speaking truth to power, and I do not want to be Baptised.  But if I want to have a "church" experience, I want it to be an authentic one (the kind I remember fondly from reading Anthony Trollope and Agatha Christie).  I don't want to hear African drumming or Buddhist chanting.  I also don't want to hear songs by Bob Dylan or John Lennon.  On the other hand, I do appreciate African-American spirituals, even gospel music, because to me those are part of the rich fabric of Western religious experience, particularly in this country.  And I would be happy to to sing or listen to some of the music that is featured in synagogues.

For the most part, singing and worshiping (the latter in my own fashion, which is what Unitarians do, after all) in a progressive Lutheran church has satisfied that need.  And not just my need as a singer, but also my need as a person who cares about social justice, social outreach, and the life of the mind.

Yesterday, however, I heard a sermon that I found deeply offensive, something that has never happened to me at that church before.  Usually it's simply a question of taking things with a grain of salt, staying in my seat during the procession toward communion (I have now laughingly  named myself the "Shabbas Goy" of the choir because when other people are communing, I sing the communion hymn - sometimes it has been as a solo!!), and not speaking prayers beginning with the words "I believe" if, in fact, I don't.  (If I am speaking, I am BabyD a private person.  If I am singing, I am a church singer doing a job, even if it's  one I don't get paid for.)

But getting back to yesterday's sermon.  The woman preaching was one of the seminarians, but she is not young.  I would guess late 40s early 50s and ministering is obviously a second career for her.  I have always been very fond of her.  She was preaching on Baptism.  I have heard sermons on Baptism before and in fact several years ago the beloved drop dead gorgeous blonde pastor who has moved on to another career, gave a sermon on Baptism, after which I told her that I loved coming to that church but that I did not want to be Baptised because my mother was Jewish and she said that was perfectly OK.

The woman preaching yesterday, however, obviously had another opinion.  She did not just say that Baptism gives you membership in the Body of Christ (something I am very certain I do not belong to), but that Baptism is what makes you a child of God.  I found that outrageous.  I am a child of God (as is everyone) and to be that you do not need to belong to any particular religious group or adhere to their specific doctrines.

But worst of all was how she ended the sermon.  She said "If there's anyone here who is not Baptised, come make an appointment to see me now!"

I really feel that this overstepped a line.  That is the sort of thing that you hear in right-wing fundamentalist churches, not a Lutheran church on the Upper West Side that is a magnet for classical musicians as well as Lutherans.

So when I hear this sort of thing I am reminded of why I call myself a Unitarian.  But not a "UU". I'm still very much a "churchlady" (and yes, I love wearing "Sunday best" to services), just one with a healthy twenty-first century skepticism. But with a love of high art, a lot of which was inspired by Christianity, but exists for the aesthetic appreciation of all.