Yesterday afternoon we had a tree-trimming party here in Founders Hall. You can see the results, and you can guess that we had fun. We made ornaments and decorated this pretend tree with them, and enjoyed each other's company, children and grownups together. Probably none of us were too concerned about the meaning of the event - it seemed self-evident that we were there to do several things: to decorate our meeting space in a traditionally seasonal way; to have some intergenerational interaction; and to get into the holiday spirit.

The afternoon had at least those meanings for us, and probably more, depending on the individual - for some it meant time spared with difficulty from other appointments and tasks; for others it was a welcome opportunity to socialize with congregational friends, and so on. I'd guess that for most of us it wasn't an activity full of heavy thought or theological weight, but it certainly had meaning and embodied the truth we so often express: we are not alone.

To my next-door neighbour, the meaning of our afternoon would have been very different. He's a member of the Church of God, which (along with Jews) keeps the sabbath and holds services on Saturday. He would probably have found the tree-trimming a frivolous thing to be doing on the sabbath. Even more, he'd have disapproved of the activity itself, because his religion teaches, as do Jehovah's Witnesses, that the observance of special days and seasons, other than the sabbath, is superstition and not a good thing. No Christmas decorations at his house, though he's a kindly man who never criticizes mine - or rather, he won't when and if I finally get them up, this year! Tree-trimming has a completely different meaning for him and his family than it does for me and for most of us.

If we stop to think more ponderously about something like this, we may find that we each find a slightly different truth and meaning in it. For the earth-centred and pagan-inclined and wiccan among us, the adorning of a tree, even an artificial one, recalls ancient ceremonies and customs which precede Christianity, and has meaning because of its links like that. It reminds us of the truth that we live and move and have our being within Nature, its seasons and cycles.

For others of us, the star or angel which top our favourite kind of tree remind us of the Christian nativity story, and we find meaning in the hope symbolized by the birth of a child who was to change the world. For yet others of us, or for the same ones, an afternoon of the kind we spent is a powerful statement that simple pleasures are more wonderful than commercialism, and that home-made joy beats anything you can buy in a store.

So many meanings! So much truth! Such a roundabout way of leading into my talk! Butthe fourth principle of the seven which we affirm in our Unitarian Universalist movement, "a free and responsible search for truth and meaning", does fit in rather well, I think, with the beginning of the holiday season, the season of many religious and commercial observances, journeys and expectation and openness to messages of truth and meaning. So we focus today on the idea of a search, a free search, that idea and principle which is so precious because it is for many of us the primary reason we're in the Unitarian Universalist movement which welcomes all who freely seek truth.

And I want to focus particularly this morning on the second adjective: responsible. The search in which we engage as free religious people is not only free but responsible, and I suggest that this part of the principle deserves more attention than it usually gets. In fact, we may not have very much idea of how responsibility and freedom go together, especially how the one affects the other. How do we act responsibly in our search for truth and meaning without limiting our freedom to search?

In a way, the coupling of freedom and responsibility in our religious quest is, I think, the next step on from the acceptance and encouragement of one another which is our third principle and which I talked about two weeks ago. I heard once about the tension between a UU Pagan and her congregation; she gave a talk on paganism, and the Sunday Programme Committee insisted on following it with one called "Why I Am Not a Pagan". The Pagan found that response rather insulting, but as a local newspaper reported, "Among Unitarian Universalists debates are not only a way of life but the way to spiritual growth."

My guess is that the members who arranged the follow-up talk felt that they had a responsibility to give the other side of the picture, and that the freedom on which we insist for ourselves as individual seekers can only work for us as members of a congregation if we make it our responsibility to look at the other side (or sides, because there are usually many). By the way, Warren Ross, from whom I got that story, mentions this congregation and its minister in an article about our Principles in the most recent issue of the UU World, much to my surprise.

As he's pointed out in other articles, the diversity of views in our congregations can lead either to friction and divisiveness or to growth and a more nurturing faith. "Which it will be in your congregation", he says, "depends in large measure on the willingness . . . to confront the issue (of diversity) boldly and openly." We have a responsibility to deal with the diversity which freedom produces, not to shy away from it. Avoiding our differences may make for comfort, but it doesn't encourage us to move along in our free search for truth and meaning.

Because of some of the conflicts I've experienced in other congregations, and the tensions which inevitably exist in almost all congregations, I related empathetically to the experience of a minister in North Carolina some years ago. The church he was called to had a strong contingent of humanists who objected to any sermon references to God, Jesus, or the Bible. (As an aside, I would comment that it's not only humanists or atheists who tend to be uncomfortable with traditional religious language but also pagans and other people with non-Judeo-Christian backgrounds or convictions).

So the minister, who had made no secret of the fact that he was a theist, tried hard not to offend anyone, but found that being inoffensive is not necessarily at all the same thing as being an effective minister. He consulted ministerial colleagues who gave him the same advice that I've received from my colleagues at difficult times and which I've found to be essential to my ministerial integrity: "Don't be wishy-washy. Be a non-anxious presence. Be true to yourself."

That minister started preaching from his heart, not apologizing for his views, though always acknowledging that not everyone agreed with him. And he discovered, as I have discovered, that the responsibility which goes along with religious freedom is the responsibility to speak from our hearts, honestly and directly, knowing that it may get us into trouble (and this goes for the members just as much as for the minister), knowing that it may offend and that not everyone will agree with us, not even feeling that they should agree with us, but knowing that, as Emerson said, the gift we have to give each other is our faith, our life passed through the fire of our thought.

Another congregation I heard about might sound surprisingly familiar to you; it certainly illustrates the first part of today's theme, the free search. The congregation, which wasn't a particularly large one, included the following individuals: a pagan who believed he lived a previous life in ancient Egypt; a recently born-again Christian who decided his search for true Christianity was best pursued in a free congregation; a woman who was merging her Christian heritage with Native American spiritual insights; a man who described himself as a fundamentalist agnostic; a man who held dear his Ethical Humanist upbringing; a Buddhist meditation group leader; a polytheistic pagan; a Jewish woman belonging both to the UU congregation and the local synagogue; a Universalist practicing the spiritual discipline of Christian prayer; and a man whose Twelve-Step spirituality was focused on the Native American medicine wheel.

You can find kindred spirits of all these people here in the First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo these days! We have a responsibility to each one of them -- to welcome, appreciate and learn from their free search among us. We also have the responsibility, I suggest, to wish them well if their seeking takes them away from our congregation, for we encourage the free search: it's our central principle!

Another church within our movement has a cross in the sanctuary, and its services often include Bible readings. Four times a year there are communion services. But the membership now includes about as many self-identified Pagans as Christians, and they hold monthly "full moon" services. Their minister says, "I realize it is a struggle for many of our members to accept the diversity, but the people who are discomfited are also committed not only to tolerance but to pluralism." To help them, she encourages members to voice their discomfort and seeks, she says, to "give everyone permission to come out of the closet with their beliefs."

And this, I believe, is a responsibility we have in our free search: to be true to ourselves, to voice our feelings and our convictions, to come out of the hiding places in which we've been keeping our beliefs, to dare to share them with each other in the trust that this is a place of acceptance at the same time that it may be one of disagreement and difference.

You may be aware that in recent years there's been a big effort within the UUA leadership to increase racial, ethnic, economic, gender and other kinds of diversity within our congregations. Yet it's theological diversity which is blossoming most beautifully, even without much push from the organization as a whole. One workshop leader dealing with the topic of pluralism recently found that people wanted to talk about theological diversity more than the other kinds. "It touched on people's hurts," she said. "Despite our commitment to a free and responsible search for truth, if you're at either end of the theological spectrum -- either Pagan or Christian -- you may be asked, `Are you a real UU?' [And the same with anti-theological, atheistic, members.] The reason this issue is not brought up in many of our congregations is that we're afraid to offend someone.

But as a religious movement, how can we not talk about it?" Yes! I would go further and say we have a responsibility to talk about our differences, because it's by exploring them that we make progress in that search for truth and meaning. We don't become more more mature in our faith, or even become more united, by covering up our diversity, but by discovering it, celebrating it and learning from it. A free and responsible search must surely take place here, if anywhere -- beginning at home, with the exploration of each other's varied views and insights.

A teacher at a UU theological school has observed that "giving voice to deeply held beliefs can be a transformative experience." Maybe you've noticed, yourself, that when you make the effort to put your thoughts into words you not only feel freer but also more aware of what you really think. Part of our responsibility in our free search, I believe, is to keep articulating our faith, for our own benefit as well as for others. That seminary teacher I mentioned is also a parish minister, and she encourages members of her congregation to take turns making statements during Sunday services about what it means to be a UU who is also, for example, a Christian or Pagan or Humanist. That's what Dave Keller did a couple of weeks ago; before lighting the chalice, he talked about what brings him to Unitarian House. Most of us are not mindreaders, and we need help to discover what our fellow members believe. Let's try to tell each other!

For two centuries on this continent, Unitarianism and Universalism have been denominations of "come-outers" seeking freedom from other churches' doctrines. But the people who find us for the first time these days are often members of an unchurched generation, coming from a non-religious way of life for the most part, and looking for alternatives to the materialism with which they're all-too familiar. They're looking for a sense of spiritual community and personal support in their search for truth and meaning. (You may recognize yourself in that description.) Those who joined our churches in the 1950s and 1960s, on the other hand, or who've grown up in the movement and were most active in those humanist years, often wonder whether they're losing their familiar congregation and whether the style which they identify as Unitarian Universalism still exists. (You may recognize yourself in that description.)

One minister, Suzanne Meyer, has a response to this concern which resonates for me. She understands the grief which is experienced by older members as the familiar forms fade and change, and "tries to explain to them that no, they are not losing their congregation but are being invited to share it with different people." Meyer emphasizes that the change we're undergoing doesn't really touch our basic beliefs. "Feminism, Paganism, naturalistic theism, Humanism are all naturalistic [rather than dogmatic, authoritarian] religions," she says. "Some people want an emphasis on the interior, spiritual journey, others on the intellectual journey. But nobody wants to go back to revealed religion." We have a responsibility to offer a home to all those who yearn for free religion, without dogma.

Suzanne Meyer also points out that diversity is growing not only within congregations but also within individual members. "We now have many hyphenated UUs," she points out. "There are people who call themselves rational-mystics. Others say they are Christian- Humanists or Humanist-feminsts, or Pagan-Humanists. The sharp distinctions are fading." What's evolving, she believes, is a "new Humanism" -- one that maintains the naturalistic insights of traditional Humanism but is softer-edged and more open to a sense of awe, mystery and wonder.

That's what makes it possible, she feels, for gays and lesbians, bisexual and transgender people, who are not comfortable in more traditional churches to come to Unitarian Universalism while often remaining liberal Christians. Occasionally there's concern expressed about whether people are coming to us for the "right" reasons, such as a wish to affirm UU principles. I believe the right reason is that someone finds this a comfortable place to be, a place where they feel welcome. Freedom comes first; the responsibility of commitment to principles comes later.

At that later stage, our free search for truth and meaning carries with it, I think, the responsibility for blurring our own boundaries, for allowing humanism to discipline our mystic affinities, for discovering the Buddhist or Christian truths which can enrich our rationality, for acknowledging the earth-centred nature of our existence which may have been forgotten in our high-minded philosophies. We are responsible for not becoming dogmatic in our search.

I believe we also have a responsibility for living out our beliefs as well as forming them in a free and responsible way. It's been said that Unitarian Universalism is about deeds, not creeds, although as our great religious educator, Sophia Lyon Fahs reminds us, "It matters what we believe". The reason that it matters is that, if we are people of integrity, our beliefs lead into action, and this, I think, is an important layer of meaning in the phrase "a free and responsible search". The search is not enough. Even finding truth and meaning is not enough. As a Christian once asked me when I spoke about a free search, "What are you going to do with the truth if you ever find it?" Good question: what are you, what are we, going to do with our truth and meaning?

If the truth you are encouraged to explore and develop here is the truth of earth-centred spirituality, I believe it's your responsibility to keep finding more ways to care for the earth, to celebrate the seasons, to live in a close and loving relationship with nature. If you find meaning in the religion of Jesus, it's your responsibility to grow in your understanding of Christian teachings, to discover how to find your life by losing self-centredness, to remember and honour how a holy birth, a life of service and a sacrificial death have changed the world.

If your convictions are humanist, it's your responsibility to be as self-reliant as you can, to further the cause of truth by applying reason, thoughtfulness and faith in human potential to the betterment of the world. If, like most of us, you are something of all these and more besides, it's your responsibility, it's my responsibility, it's our responsibility, to take that search for truth and meaning ever further, even though it may carry us into unfamiliar and challenging, even demanding, realms. Mysterious realms, too: as the philosopher Gabriel Marcel has observed, the deepest questions of life are not so much problems to be solved as mysteries to be wondered at. The search for truth and meaning perhaps doesn't have an ultimate destination, though there may be wonderful resting places on the way.

When I'm asked by people who've never heard of us before what Unitarian Universalists are all about, I answer with a statement that has evolved over the years and is now very precious to me. I say to them, and I say to you now, these words which express the core of my faith and my ministry:

Our central principle is a free and responsible search for truth and meaning, and we meet to support and encourage one another in that search. Here we are, gathered to support and encourage one another in the free and responsible search for truth and meaning. How joyful is the search and how joyful our being together! How deep is our responsibility and how deep the well of resources which help us to fulfill it! As we enter the holiday season, with its many layers and dimensions of truth and meaning, let us rejoice and be thankful; let us gather new strength for the journey.