This talk on conscience and democracy is the fifth of a series of seven sermons on our seven Unitarian Universalist Principles, and it comes at rather an appropriate time as we look forward to next week's Annual General Meeting of this congregation. (We shall certainly be trying to respect each other's consciences during that meeting, and to act by democratic means.)

For those of you who may be new here, or those who may not know, I should point out that the Principles are not a creed to which individual members must subscribe. They are operating principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association, the continental organization to which UU congregations in North America currently subscribe. To set today's talk in context, I ask you to turn to the front of your hymnbook, the page before Hymn One, and to follow as I read the statement of Principles there.

(Read)
The fifth of these seven Unitarian Universalist Principles, and the one on which we focus today, is: "The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large."

This is another of those intriguing couplings of two ideas which I think can lead us into a fruitful exploration of their relationship. What does the right of conscience have to do with the democratic process? It almost seems to involve a contradiction: the right of conscience refers, surely, to the exercise of an individual, singular, prerogative to believe and act in accordance with one's own convictions regardless of what others believe or do, no matter how large a majority those others are. The democratic process is about yielding to the majority, having the will of the community at large prevail, regardless of minority views. How is it that these two ideas have been put together in one Principle?

You've probably already spotted at least one major fallacy in what I've just said -- it's the use of that word "regardless". I don't really believe that our conscience is something which exists regardless of the views, opinions and convictions of others, and I doubt you do, either. The right of conscience -- a hard-won right with an honourable history in our movement that we can look at in a moment -- can only be rightfully exercised within the context of other people's consciences. The democratic process -- another ancient yet hard-won value -- is also only worth our support, I suggest, if it continually takes into account the convictions of those who dissent from the majority. These two parts of the fifth principle belong together because they act as a mutual safeguard and balance -- they're an example of what a famous Canadian politician called "countervailing principles," which enhance each other rather than cancelling each other.

There's something rather intriguing to me about the very phrase, "right of conscience". Isn't it usually the duty connected with conscience that comes to mind first? We often speak of rights and responsibilities as two separate, though complementary, entities, and in connection with conscience responsibility or duty seems more obvious: "we ought to obey our conscience", rather than "we have the right to obey our conscience". The question of the right of conscience only arises, it seems to me, when we're talking about a conscience that goes against the mainstream, the majority, the democratic decision, or about the inviolate privacy of conscience. I came across a little story which illustrates some of the confusion between the various senses of conscience:

Seems a school principal was told that a student had been guilty of political corruption by taking $5 to vote for Jones as class president and another $5 to vote for Smith. "Is this true?" the principal asked the student. "Yes, Sir." "Well, which did you vote for, Jones or Smith?" "Sir!" replied the boy indignantly. "That is a matter between me and my conscience!"

More seriously, I think the confusion arises because in fact it's the same quality of conscience which confers both right and responsibility. I have a duty to obey my conscience, even though it may be inconvenient or uncomfortable for me to do so; and I have a right to obey my conscience, even though it may be inconvenient or uncomfortable for other people. The right of conscience brings us smack-bang into the middle of the eternal dilemma of deciding whether and where the individual prevails over society or vice-versa. And this is a classic political dilemma, one which has occupied the minds of political philosophers from Plato to Trudeau, from Machievelli to Mulroney. In the history of our denomination, there's been a good deal of discussion on the subject, and one particularly famous piece of writing. In 1568, four hundred and thirty three years ago, the 28-year-old King John Sigismund of Transylvania, the first and only Unitarian king in history, issued the Act of Tolerance and Freedom of Conscience, which was almost certainly "ghostwritten" by that important figure of our faith, Francis David. It includes these words:

His Majesty ..... reaffirms that in every place the preachers shall preach and explain the Gospel each according to his understanding of it, and if the congregation like it, well; if not, no one shall compel them (for their souls would not be satisfied), but they shall be permitted to keep a preacher whose teaching they approve. Therefore ..... no one shall be reviled for [their] religion by anyone, ..... and it is not permitted that anyone should threaten anyone else by imprisonment or by removal from his post for [their] teaching, for faith is the gift of God ...

Those of us who don't feel at ease with the phrase "faith is a gift of God" can probably nonetheless agree with the concept that our consciences are not directly under our own or anyone else's control but are related to our inherent worth and dignity, different in each one of us but never to be violated or taken lightly. The reason for affirming the right of conscience, then, is because that's called for by our very first Principle, the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Our conscience is intrinsic to our personhood, and the right of conscience is intrinsic to a just society.

You may have noticed that I've drifted into political reference here, which I think is inevitable as soon as we begin to talk about rights. Rights are about what we owe to one another, how we ought to treat one another: they're about society, the domain of systems of government, structures of relationship, the rule of law. And in case there's any doubt about the fact that this Principle is concerned with politics at least as much as with private religious belief, the second part refers to "the democratic process, within our congregations and in society at large." The Unitarian Universalist Association is here taking an explicitly political stance!

Now don't get too excited. I don't mean that this principle binds Americans to vote Democratic rather than Republican, although there are some people on both sides of the political spectrum who interpret it that way. I sometimes think it's very regrettable that "democratic" is the label for both a process and a party in the States, just as it's unfortunate that "liberal" is the label for both a process and a party in Canada. But there we are; we're stuck with the words, although I do try whenever I can to speak of a free faith rather than a liberal one.

What I mean by this being political is that the Principle binds us to a kind of process which is only recognized in some political systems. We're committed to democratic process, not totalitarian government, or dictatorship (however benevolent), or even any forms of aristocracy or meritocracy in which some people's votes count more than others. We member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association affirm the use of the democratic process at all levels of society. That's a political statement, though not a party political statement. Republicans and Democrats, Liberals and Conservatives, Greens and New Democrats, and probably even most members of the Canadian Alliance, all espouse the belief that each person should have an equal say in the government of the country.

UU Christians and atheists, humanists and pagans, all believe that each member should have an equal say in the running of the church. But not all countries of the world, not all religions of the world, believe this way, and even though we believe it in our country and our religion, we have to constantly stand on guard for the demanding and difficult democratic process. Our fifth principle places us squarely in a particular political and religious system of thought, and it's quite explicit about its relevance not only to our congregations but to society at large.

It's not at all easy to maintain a truly democratic process even within our congregations, let alone a democratic process which truly respects the right of conscience of each individual. In a K-W Record article which Nancy Milne brought to my attention recently, the veteran Quebec politician Claude Ryan talks of how his religious and political beliefs have been integrated, but only with continual effort.

He says that he has constantly had to "stop and consider, even in the midst of his own strong convictions, that the other side also had legitimate reasons for their convictions and their viewpoint might someday prevail over his." The democratic process involves an internal structure which ensures that no dogmatic demands are laid down as a condition of membership, and honest differences of opinion are respected. Unitarian Universalist Congregations have a general agreement on the most important matters, the Principles which guide us, but every one of them, like the First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo, includes dissenting minorities who are free to express their differing points of view without embarrassment or antagonism. As Phillip Hewett, an honoured historian of Canadian Unitarianism, says:

Sometimes a minority may represent a point of view that was once in the ascendancy but from which the main body of opinion has moved on. Sometimes it may constitute the vanguard of what will become the prevailing view of the next generation. Sometimes again, it may represent an experimental point of view which will not stand the test of time and will eventually disappear It is virtually impossible in any given situation to sort out exactly where specific groups or individuals belong within this classification. ..... But the important point is that the freedom of such varying points of view to co-exist and interact within the fellowship of the congregation is cherished and safeguarded.

The form of democratic process which Unitarian Universalist congregations rely on in their internal affairs and in their relation to the denominational Association is called "congregational polity". Notice that word "polity", so like "politics" because it's from the same root and means basically the same thing: the art of government. Our government, our polity, our political system, is congregational; that is, it is independent of any external authority or of a Minister's internal authority.

Here in Waterloo, as in all UU congregations, the congregation -- the total body of those who have decided to join as members -- decides the affairs of the church, delegating month-by-month matters to the Board of Trustees but never giving up the responsibility for setting the congregation's direction or guiding its affairs. And this democratic sense that everyone has a right and a responsibility to be involved in decision-making, this sense of polity, is what we UUs also take to our involvement in the sphere of life called politics.

Not everyone, even in our UU movement, is quite comfortable with the idea of mixing politics and religion. Some of us share the widespread suspicion of politics and a sense common in traditional churches that religion is essentially a private and individual matter. I shall quote from Phillip Hewett again, at some length because he expresses beautifully and exactly what I want to say:

.....There is a widespread feeling, particularly among those who stand to benefit from a continuation of the status quo, that "the church shouldn't meddle in politics" -- or economics, or social life generally. Religion, it is claimed, is strictly an individual concern, and the life of the individual can be divorced from the life of society. Evangelical piety sets its focus upon a transformation of the individual, arguing that if the lives of enough individuals are changed, the life of society will change too. Evolutionary theory, on the other hand, suggests that an organism adapts to its habitat. Provide a fiercely competitive environment and you develop aggressive characteristics within the individual. Provide a co-operative environment, and you will foster the development of love and mutual aid. .....

Where do [UUs] stand in this debate Few would see the alternatives as mutually exclusive, and even fewer would see the church as having no role in promoting social progress. But what should that role be? ..... Action in the name of the group has somehow to be reconciled with the basis of that group as a creedless congregation -- and "creedless" covers social and political creeds as well as theological ones None of the members must be made to feel that their freedom of belief and action is being violated, and even where there is a consensus in the congregation there is seldom complete unanimity. How is corporate action to be undertaken consistently with the rights of a dissenting minority?

..... Basically, the question is once again that of the responsible exercise of individuality in such a way that it does not damage the community. It should be understood and made clear that declarations or actions reflecting a consensus in the congregation do not in any sense limit the right of an individual to dissent. Such a right is fundamental in a fellowship based upon the principle of unity in diversity. Furthermore the dissenter should be freely able to make the attempt to change the consensus by rational argument Often enough in the past the minority point of view in one generation has become the majority point of view in the next. But given these safeguards and opportunities, the dissenter should not try to thwart the open expression of an existing broad consensus within the congregation on matters of current concern.

That came from Phillip Hewett, Minister Emeritus in Vancouver, who wrote the book, literally and figuratively, on what it means to be a Unitarian in Canada. The words of that dearly-loved and respected man beautifully express for me the difficult but vital balance between the right of conscience and the democratic process.

Not only at our Annual General Meeting next Sunday, but in our ongoing life as a congregation, we shall have continual opportunities and challenges to find and uphold that balance. We shall always have - and should have - controversies and differences of opinion on what's the right course of action to take, on what procedures to follow, on how things could have been done better or could be done better in the future. We shall have these differences because of the very fact that we are a diverse congregation of people committed to honouring differences and diversities. Through them all, I hope that we shall be able keep at the forefront of our minds, as a guide to how we proceed, this fifth Principle: the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process. For this we have covenanted as a congregation to affirm and promote.