Pilgrimage

If you went on a pilgrimage, where would you go? I consider all travel that involves engaging with the landscape, culture and/or people to be a form of pilgrimage.

Some of the more consciously pilgrimage-like travel I have done, though, included going to Down House where Darwin lived and walking along the gravel path where he thought about evolution, and having a conversation about evolution. I think the re-enactment element was important there.

Another example was going to Canterbury Cathedral. I am not a Christian, but I find the story of Thomas a Becket moving, and I like Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and Jean Anouilh's play Becket.

Visiting stone circles always feels like a pilgrimage to me. They are beautiful and numinous places, and some archaeologists think they were made to represent a microcosm of the landscape.

Landscape itself, the wild places, are a place of pilgrimage for me; that’s where I go to feel renewed and refreshed.

I also think that places where people have made a connection with the numinous are special. As T S Eliot wrote in Little Gidding,
You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
Of course, I also regard visiting Unitarian churches as a pilgrimage—they are shrines of religious freedom, a testament to the courage of our Unitarian forebears.

Yvonne Aburrow

Reflecting on the Bible

The Unitarian Christian Association held a seminar on “Bible poverty” - reflecting on the fact that many Unitarian communities no longer refer to the Bible as a source text. This is a shame, because it is part of our heritage, and we need to reclaim it from the fundamentalists and conservatives who have hijacked it in recent decades.

The Bible is a book (or better, a collection of books) with different authors, all of whom seem to have had very different ideas about God, and what God wants. The earlier books of the Bible have YHWH demanding blood smeared on the horns of his altar; then the prophets bemoan the hard-heartedness of Israel and their inability to just be nice to people for a change (see Amos 5:24 for example). The theology expressed by Jesus is quite different from that of Paul, which is different again from James and Peter. All this is well-documented by liberal biblical criticism.

Even Richard Dawkins says we should regard the Bible as a work of literature. Quite right - it is a work of literature, and has just as many insights into human nature as any other pre-modern work of literature.
I do not literally believe the cosmological accounts given in the Bible. They are metaphors, just as Pagan creation myths are metaphors. I also don't believe in the resurrection of Jesus, but I do think his mythology is a version of the stories of other Middle-Eastern dying-and-resurrecting vegetation gods, and if you read it as mythology, it is a good account of the archetypal experiences of the human psyche (the death of the ego and resurrection of the greater self, as outlined in the Hero Journey).

The method I use for interpreting the Bible is to compare it with the wisdom texts of other spiritual traditions. If you read what Jesus and other prophets said in the light of what the Buddha said, or what Lao Tsu said, it makes a lot more sense. Personally I find it easier to read the Buddha and Lao-Tsu, because I don't have to filter out the noise of conservative interpretations of Jesus' thoughts that I was brought up with. But this doesn't mean that the Bible is worthless. It means that if you're going to read it, you should read it carefully to see if its ethical guidance resonates with your own experience. And if it doesn't, then reject it. It's not a supernaturally inspired book, it's a document of the spiritual journeys of its authors, and should be read as such.

As the Buddha said,
“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.”
Yvonne Aburrow

Harvest

On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs, 
There after harvest could I glean my life 
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.

by Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

Thoreau was a Transcendentalist, a member of the group of writers whose impact on 19th century Unitarianism was profound and, at the time, controversial. Subsequent generations of Unitarians embraced Transcendentalist views of the Divine.