I am apparently not the only atheist who finds dabbling in Unitarian Universalism* to be a fraught, crazy-making endeavour. They are a good bunch, and generally sympathetic to humanist and atheist ideas and individuals. But sometimes … well, this post explores some of the less palatable elements of Unitarian community, from a humanist/atheist standpoint. A follow-up post will balance the coverage with the positive view of the humanist-Unitarian connection.
The difficulties I’ve had with Unitarians cover a broad range.
On the milder end, I have sometimes felt that the “welcome all comers” attitude of Unitarianism inhibits my capacity to critically discuss disagreements. This is a galling constraint to me. If you and I disagree about something, often it means one of us is wrong, and so I cherish the ability to discuss such differences robustly. That’s the best way for us to discover and correct any errors – whether they are in my stance, or yours, or both. I won’t be able to fully engage in a community – any community – if it isn’t open to self-critique and discussion of this sort.
I should acknowledge that the Unitarians have historically shown great courage in self-reflection and self-correction. Without ever breaking entirely from their religious origins, they have consciously set aside several orthodox Christian beliefs, including the odd doctrine of the trinity (that’s why they’re “Unitarians” – as opposed to “Trinitarians”) and the toxic idea of hell (giving the “Universalist” half of their name). My sense that disagreement isn’t always encouraged is likely as much part of my own perceptions as of the reality before me. Nevertheless, it has dampened my enthusiasm for self-identifying as a Unitarian.
Occasionally, an uglier sentiment arises. Some time ago now, Adam Lee of Daylight Atheism described a diatribe being aimed at atheists.
While I understand that Unitarians call themselves “religious”, it is clear both from their principles and their promotional literature that non-belief is well within the circle of beliefs compatible with Unitarianism. Not only that, but on important social issues (such as the same-sex union kerfuffle in Scotland), atheists and Unitarians stand side-by-side against the reactionary forces of traditional religion. Lee, an outspoken atheist and a member of a Unitarian congregation, was incensed by passages in the book A Chosen Faith, promoted by Unitarian organizations as an excellent introduction to their community.
Among the passages Lee cites is this:
Looking at the religious aspects of many intergroup conflicts, at the violence carried out by zealots in the name of religion, some people conclude that the world would be safer “religion-free.” They may even try living this way themselves. But too often they only practice a form of self-delusion.
It goes downhill from there, comparing modern, outspoken atheists to tyrants of the past century. These comparisons are factually tenuous at best, and far beneath the general tone you find when Unitarians discuss different beliefs. Lee contacts the author of the book to see if he is misreading the intent, but gets a reply that doubles down on the dissing, tarring himself as much of a kneejerk bigot as some of the worst fundamentalists.
Fortunately, I can report that I’ve never come across such repulsive attitudes myself among Unitarian groups.
Not all Unitarians are alike, and in my follow-up post I will point out some of the high points I have encountered in Unitarian/humanist contact.
Footnote:
* I generally abbreviate “Unitarian Universalist” to “Unitarian”. I know some Unitarian Universalists strongly prefer the full name as more descriptive, or abbreviate it “UU” instead. There are good historical reasons for the UUs having this double-barrelled name. But in Edinburgh, the name “Unitarian” was common, so that’s the variant I will stick with for convenience.
Tags: UU
Friendly Humanist 
2014/06/09 at 07:28 |
I have similar thoughts about UU. I appreciate their efforts to be a “big tent” and accept everybody. That’s why atheists can find a welcome among them. But, conversely, this means that there is enormous tolerance for new-age woo-woo, which I have no patience for. (One of my favorite examples was at an event where one of my teen-aged daughters was wearing a purple sparkly necklace. A lady came up to her and said, “Ooo-amethyst! What kind of crystal energies does amethyst give you?” To which my very sensible daughter replied “It’s a rock.” Not giving up, the woo-pusher continued “Well in some beliefs its…” and was interrupted by my daughter with, “In my belief, it’s a rock!”)
I’d love to be able to feel at home there, but I just can’t. Every Sunday they have “worship services” where they talk about their “UU faith”. Their “order of service” is pretty much identical to what I grew up with (Presbyterian), only with a lot less god in it. I taught sunday school for a few years, and they let me inject a bunch of critical thinking into it, which was good. But outside of that, I feel acutely uncomfortable and out of place there, even as they proclaim “you are welcome here”.