Pun Not Intended

Hey all, sorry for the inactivity here for the last month or so. Here, in Pun Not Intended, is a return to pencilgeisting. Also, apparently, verbing.

I used to attend a Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. For those who aren’t familiar with the religion- I’m guessing that’s most everyone- UUs emphasize the spiritual process over particular theological conclusions, asserting that there is something spiritually meaningful about life, but relying on the idea that such conclusions are more meaningful when you come to them yourself. So, within some (very good) parameters like affirmation of the “inherent worth and dignity of every person,” UUs shift and differ. By asking you to take responsibility for the big issues yourself, practicing UUism is like having theology homework- but the sort of homework for a class you didn’t have to take and added because you wanted to.

I think there’s something deeply insightful about this approach and what I see as its implicit endorsement of intellectualism, but there were also things I didn’t like about being an active UU (I suppose I am now a latent one). Particularly, it seems to me that a lot of people take the idea of respecting individual conscience to mean that we ought not challenge and engage with each other’s religious ideas, as questioning them in such a way would be intolerant. As a result, there were a lot of conversations at the Fellowship where every sentence began with “This is just me, but…” suggesting that the best way to respect each other’s views was to leave them to each other. It strikes me that reducing beliefs to nonfactors in this way is the opposite of respecting them. I don’t believe that this is a problem within the religious framework so much as the social atmosphere of the place, but nonetheless, it was at times frustrating.

This is all background to set up a story about a particular sermon given at the Fellowship I attended. Given these ambiguities of faith and general uneasiness with challenging each other, UUs sermons are often purposefully vague. The minister will incorporate imagery from as many different traditions as possible, both to expose listeners to a wide array of wisdom, and, presumably, to make everyone feel included. This can lead both to apt metaphors and to awkward stretches.

The sermon in question dealt with Easter. A key image was Jesus hanging on the cross, and a key message was a reminder to keep his message in our minds. Toward the end, the minister urged us not to “leave him hanging,” meaning to suggest that we act on the content of the sermon, but also- if the metaphor is extended- urging us not to just leave him up there.

Now, I’m sure the extension of the hanging metaphor was unintentional. “Leave him hanging” is too casual to be applied to the image, and our minister was too good a speaker to do that on purpose. It’s a slang phrase, and how often do we really think about the metaphors we use in slang? Never, right? Her pacing didn’t indicate an intended connection either, and I don’t remember the congregation reacting like there was one. But nonetheless, what an accidental pun. Here we have Jesus dying for our sins, and here we are, neglecting to high five him for his efforts.