I’ve always loved history with its drama and intrigue, heroes and antiheroes. I love the innately human narrative of struggle. It holds us accountable for our failings, and it ultimately tells the triumphant story of our survival.

When I was studying for the Unitarian Universalist ministry several years ago, one of the requirements was reading the two-volume, 1,100-page history of Unitarianism and its antecedents by Earl Mores Wilbur. Most of my seminary colleagues hated it. It’s been a requirement for a long time, and I’ve learned that many if not most of my colleagues in the ministry shared that disdain. But I have to admit that I loved it.

It’s the whole story of Unitarianism from the mid 16^th Century to the late 19^th Century. And it is complete with drama and intrigue, with heroes and antiheroes. There is a story from Wilbur, set in Transylvania in the 16^th Century that cogently defines an integral characteristic of our ongoing Unitarian character from that day to this. It’s also a good story to provide some perspective on the significance of our Partner Church Program.

Just prior to the development of Unitarianism in Transylvania, there was in Poland an enclave of Socinians, followers of Faustus Socinius, who were unitarian (anti-Trinitarian) in theology but not in name. The Socinians, once a powerful and influential force on the religious and social scene in Poland, fell into the disfavor of the Polish throne and their community was literally decimated. The men were executed and the women and children were sent into exile. A gifted Italian physician who was also a staunch unitarian, Giorgio Biandrata, had been part of the Racovian enclave, had escaped with his life. He wandered east into Transylvania where he was employed by the Royal family as court physician.

At the time, Transylvania was a boarder state between the Ottoman and the Roman empires. National loyalties swung back and forth between the two, and the pressures for her allegiance were great. Biandrata’s service was to Queen Isabella, who had been placed on the throne by the Ottoman Sultan. Her reign was that of caretaker until her son, John Sigismund would be old enough to rule.

Sigismund and Isabella had been greatly swayed by Biandrata’s anti-Trinitarian teachings. So had Francis Dávid, the leading preacher in the capitol of Kolozvár. Together they created the foundations of the Unitarian Church for all of Transylvania. The local princes who were loyal to Rome challenged this new religion. A Diet was convened where a great debate took place. Representatives of the Catholic, Calvinist and Lutheran Churches participated against Dávid, but they were no match for the leading scholar. In a subsequent Edict of Toleration, John Sigismund declared all four faith traditions to be valid and to have the equal protection of the crown.

Unfortunately, Sigismund died a few short years later, at a very early age. He was replaced by, Stephen Báthory whose loyalty was to the West. Stephen did everything within his power to rescind the Edict of Toleration. Failing that, he modified the edict to limit the theologies of the four accepted religions to what they had declared at the time of the edict. Nothing new could be added to the written or the spoken word. This had little impact on the other three, but to the newly emerging Unitarian theology it was a death threat. For Unitarianism to grow, so must its belief systems. This sets the stage for the point of this story.

Francis Dávid was the ultimate theologian of the new faith community. There were now Unitarian churches throughout Transylvania and Dávid was their recognized leader. He was determined that the new religion would not be reduced by the political interference. Freedom of conscience was an ideal of the highest order, and his would not be compromised. Neither would his preaching.

Giorgio Biandrata’s commitment and devotion to Unitarianism was no less. But Biandrata had been in Poland. He knew that it was possible for the new religion to be completely wiped out. He pleaded with Dávid to bide his time, to work with what he already had, and not to risk further interference from the throne by violating the new conditions of the edict. He felt that in time the situation would ease, and then Unitarianism could move forward into its fullest potential. He was afraid that Dávid could inadvertently cause the ruin of the fledgling religion that they had both worked so hard to spawn.

When Dávid refused to yield, it was Biandrata himself who reported Dávid to King Stephen. Dávid was charged with heresy. He was imprisoned where he died of pneumonia some months later.

Ever since that time, there has continued to be a tension within Unitarianism between the rights and the needs of the individual on one hand, and the common good of the institution on the other. Though the story that introduces these dynamics is indeed a sad one, the dynamics themselves generate a very creative tension. The religious process, at its best, whether it be liberal or any other religion, is always a dance of balance between the one and the many.

The spiritual quest is always an effort on the part of individuals to discover who they are in relationship with all that is. Religion is the institutional/community setting where we bring our individual spiritual quests in order to pursue them in cooperation with and in the company of kindred spirits.

Individuals require room to grow. Institutions protect that room, but at a cost. The outcome of the tension need not be death as it was for Dávid. It can be the creative development of an interdependent and delicate balance.

This story occurred in Transylvania, the birthplace of our Unitarianism at the time of its birth. Unitarianism survived the political assault by the crown, but its growth was diminished greatly by the impositions placed upon it. Still there were Unitarian congregations spread across the country that exist to this day.

Transylvania was eventually subsumed by the nation, Romania. Transylvanians were and are considered second-class citizens at best. The Unitarians continued to be a downtrodden lot, and things got worse. The communist reign of dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu was devastating for all of Romania. It was much more so for the Transylvanians and the Unitarians among them. Religion was mercilessly persecuted and was forced underground.

History changed its course once again in 1990 through a revolution that rid the country of the despot, Ceausescu. Romania set out on a road of rebuilding and healing. In 1989 the then current president of the Unitarian Universalist Association, Bill Schulz sent out a plea to UU congregations to partner with Unitarian congregations in Romania.

Our own congregation answered that call. Emily Kennedy has been at the heart of our response since that time. She is surely the inspiration for this worship service, today. Emily writes, "Our commitment [has been] to be a partner to the Szentabraham Church in Avramesti, Romania. They needed to know that they had American UU’s who were concerned about their plight and were keeping track of the machinations of the ex-Communists in power. As a religious and ethnic minority, their position was and still is very tenuous."

During our ten-year relationship, Emily and just three other church members have remained in regular correspondence with the minister, Denes Jakab, and members of the Szentabraham congregation. Over the years we have sent more than $6,000 in financial support–mostly for the purpose of badly needed rebuilding. And there have been a number of visits back and forth. Some of you will remember Rev. Jakab’s visit here with us two years ago. There are a number of souvenirs from that visit around our sanctuary. (Mention pamphlets and hymnal covers)

After our musical interlude, we’ll here from Stephen Murphy and Mary Kennedy who are among those who have had a personal connection with our Eastern European brothers and sisters.

By Stephen Murphy

I am a Clinical Social Worker and was part of a Social Work educational tour to Hungary and Croatia in May 1998. Our group spent a number of days in Budapest, Hungary and I had some time to contact a Unitarian Minister there whom I had been referred to by our Partner Church program here. It turns out that this minister, Rev. Jozsef Kaszoni, was previously a minister to a congregation in Transylvania. And that congregation just happened to be a Partner Church, at one time, to what congregation?

Yes- this one!

Rev. Kaszoni was kind enough to grant me a meeting in the middle of the week and I managed to negotiate my way through the Budapest subway system and find the Church. He was very gracious and spoke excellent English, which was very helpful

because my Hungarian is poor. He was very interested in how this congregation has been growing and in all the programs that are going on here, especially the Religious Education program. We discussed some of the similarities and differences between Unitarian Universalism in North America and Unitarianism in Eastern Europe. He helped me understand some of the history there and how important the Partner Church program is. He invited me to attend a Sunday service if I had the chance. I was able to re-arrange my schedule and did attend.

The Church sanctuary is not easy to find. It is located on a regular city

street in a typical apartment complex with a court-yard. The only indication that a Unitarian Church might be situated behind the large front door are the words over the door-

‘Egy Az Isten’- ‘God is One’! The service was all in Hungarian, of course, and was rather somber, especially the hymns. Yet I was moved by it. I imagined it to be the same style service that has occurred in Transylvania and Hungary for the past few centuries. I did feel that, in some way, I was experiencing my religious ancestry in a profound way. Without this, would we be here as we currently are? I wondered. It felt exhilarating to be there, and I tried to take it all in, even if I didn’t understand most of what was being stated or sung. I was also excited being there because this was Bela Bartok’s church and there was a monument in the sanctuary honoring him. He is one of my favorite composers and was a member of that church during his final years in the 1930’s and ‘40’s. After the service, I met with Rev. Kaszoni and some of the congregation and we had an interesting discussion. One of the members took me to his favorite pastry shop where we continued talking and ate delicious pastries.

I want to read you some words of Rev. Kaszoni. These were spoken during a

sermon that he co-led with Rev. Gretchen Thomas at the First Unitarian Church in San Jose, California in March 1992 : "You Unitarian Universalists here, and we Transylvanian Unitarians way over there, have important commitments in common-commitments to democracy, to the free mind, to religious tolerance, to the concept of advancing truth." In the middle of the 16^th Century in Transylvania, Francis Dávid demanded religious tolerance, saying that people should never be persecuted because of their religious faith, because faith is a gift of God. Francis Dávid’s motto was: ‘Semper reformandi’- ‘A Continuing Reformation’ by the constant refinement of religious truth.

One-third of the Unitarians in the world live in Transylvania- 90,000

people. We are desperately trying to raise our children as loyal and caring Unitarians, so that our religion will not die because of the attack upon Unitarians and the other minority religious groups, that has been part of the oppression of the people for the last 42 years

in Romania. For many of the Hungarian-speaking people in Transylvania, our religion is a matter of life and death."

I wonder if I see my Unitarian Universalist faith as a ‘matter of life and

death’. If our ability to practice this faith was threatened, if others were demanding that we give up this religion and follow a ‘One, True Religion’, would I? would We? have the courage to stand up for our right to ‘ democracy, to the free mind, to religious tolerance, to the concept of advancing truth’? I would hope that my commitment is strong enough and that I would fight for it. I do know that, having made a personal connection with fellow Unitarians in Hungary, as well as meeting with our own Partner Church minister

and his family here in Montclair two years ago, I certainly have inspiration to draw from. We can definitely learn from the history of our Unitarian brothers and sisters in Eastern

Europe some ways to ensure that our religious faith remains strong and free today and in the future.

By Mary Kennedy

We have talked a lot about diversity in this sanctuary and the rich tapestry that emerges when people come together from different backgrounds and life experiences. When I think about my work with the Partner Church and the relationship that I have developed with Rev. Jakab and his family through letters and visits over the years, I understand the value of diversity first hand. Most of the people of St. Abraham are subsistence farmers who have no running water or electricity. They drive horse carts, and live four miles from the nearest paved road. Prior to 1989, they had lived for a generation totally cut off from the outside world by the Romanian totalitarian regime. These people have a very different view of life than I have, and hearing their stories has changed my perspective, broadened my experience, and helped me to grow emotionally and spiritually.

For example, you all know we have been experiencing a shortage of rainfall recently, which has caused some towns to encourage water rationing. We complain that we cannot water our lawns or fill our swimming pools, but I’m sure no one in this room has ever gone to sleep worrying that we would actually run out of water. But last summer when eastern Europe experienced a dry spell, the Jakab’s well actually ran dry. No water to drink, no water to wash, no water for the livestock or crops. Try to imagine what you would do.

When I visited St. Abraham in 1998, they were dealing with horrendous flooding, and the crops were ruined that year, too. On the other hand, the people of St. Abraham don’t have to deal with one of the problems which our affluence has created. In Montclair, a large amount of our municipal budget is spent getting rid of all the garbage we create. In St. Abraham, there is no garbage. Everything is recycled. People who have very little cannot afford to throw anything away. When I was packing to leave the Jakab home at the end of my visit, I looked for the trash can to dispose of some tissues and the packaging material from a roll of film. No trash can, everything went into the fire except the little plastic film canister which was immediately put to use as a storage container. Of course, the fire is always burning, as it is their energy source for cooking, heating, and hot water.

The people of St. Abraham fight for their survival every day. For many years they lived without hope because of the hostile conditions imposed by their government. Their stories have taught me the true meaning of freedom and prosperity. This is what our Partner Church relationship has meant to me. Rev. Jakab expressed what the partnership has meant to his congregation when he spoke in our sanctuary two years ago:

For my visit in 1998, the children of the St. Abraham congregation had worked hard to prepare a surprise for me. They sang Elvis Presley’s famous song "Fools Rush In." It was sung in perfect harmony and perfect English. I’ll remind you of the words: "Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you." I was so touched by their loving gesture that I will remember that moment for the rest of my life. Afterwards, Rev. Jakab, fearing that the song had been somehow inappropriate, asked me, "Was this a religious song?" I answered, yes!

Charles Blustein Ortman

While there have been a few members of our congregation who have maintained our partnership over the years, it’s been a while since we have considered this relationship as a congregation. It’s an awkward relationship really. There are many cultural differences and barriers between our congregations. When Denes Jakab, his wife and son were with us in 1999, the language difficulties alone were an enormous challenge to our having a successful and meaningful visit.

And more than cultural, there are seemingly vast theological differences between our Romanian partners and us. We are Unitarian in a universal sense. They are Unitarian in a very Christian way, though, hardly in any traditional sense. Listen to these words of Francis Dávid, words that are still at the center of belief for our partners.

"Egy Az Isten. God is one…God is only one, that Father from whom and by whom is everything… Outside of this God there is no other God, neither three, neither four, neither in substance, neither in persons, because the Scripture nowhere teaches anything about a triple God…" Jesus was and is seen as the human character that best leads to that one God.

There are those among us who would be very comfortable with such a theology. There are those who would not. Our gatherings are not based on such an understanding, though it is the common understanding of those in our partner church. How can this make sense and what is our religious connection to the folks in Avramesti?

A hallmark of Unitarianism is freedom of conscience; that includes toleration of religious thought. If we are true to the tradition of our faith, it does not matter whether someone else’s faith rests upon Christocentric, or humanistic, or any other foundations, in order for us to be in religious community together. What matters is that, based in common principle, we are willing to walk together in order to live what William Channing Gannet called the "religious life."

We have no need to prescribe religious doctrine among ourselves, here in our congregation, within the Unitarian Universalist Association, or with our Partners abroad. We do have need though, to be engaged in our spiritual quests. We do have need to discover who each of us is in relationship with all that is. We do have need for an institutional/community setting where we can bring our individual spiritual quests–in order to pursue them in cooperation with and in the company of kindred spirits.

The Romanian Unitarians are indeed our kindred spirits. They are a living expression of our shared history. Theirs is an innately human narrative of struggle.

They are a story of record by which we can assess both the highs and the lows of our past. They are a prism through which we can continue to comprehend our own present circumstances. And they are more than just a metaphor upon which our future could be hinged. For us, they are the living manifestation of that original question: What is the religious balance between the rights and the needs of the individual, and the common good of the institution?

We may never be able to fully answer this question in any static way. The dance is always a dynamic one. The direction of the answer though, certainly appears to be in the direction of inclusion and not exclusion. Exclusion far too often represents itself in newspaper headlines that include destruction and death.

There are two thoughts I’d like to leave you with this morning. With them I’ll conclude.

First, we have a decade-long partnership with a Unitarian congregation in Avramesti, Romania. Our end of that partnership could use some enthusiasm, to say the least. If your sense of historical interest or the diversity of our tradition has piqued your curiosity this morning, maybe you would like to learn more about it. Maybe you’d be interested in participating in this Partner Church Program. To that end Emily and Mary Kennedy and others will host a meeting here at the church on Tuesday, May 29^th at 7:30 pm. Come and find out how you might become more closely connected.

The second thought is for everyone, whether you’re interested in following up on this opportunity or not. It has to do with religious toleration and freedom of thought. It also has to do with the balance of the dance between the individual and the institution. Ultimately, I think it also has to do with religious maturity.

Very often Unitarian Universalists define ourselves by what we do not believe. In an effort to distance ourselves from religious traditions of our past (both individually and institutionally), we devalue not only those dimensions of the tradition that we find limiting; we also reject anything that appears to be related to the tradition. It’s often much easier for us to find religious value in somewhat exotic religious traditions than it is for us to claim the underlying truths and values of those religions with which we have been more intimate.

I don’t think we ever really let go of, or erase anything that we’ve ever held closely in belief. We simply (or complicatedly) add to it. Our understandings grow; they need to; that’s freedom of conscience.

Religious toleration means that we allow for freedom of conscience in others. It also means that we have the courage to recognize that there are many valid manifestations of the religious impulse: to balance the One and the All. Our perspective of the universe is not the only legitimate one.

Are we willing to walk as kindred spirits with others who are seeking to achieve this balance?

The Partner Church Program brings this question to the foreground. Perhaps for that reason, as well as for the many others, it is a relationship worth our investment. It keeps the ideal of a "religious life" with in our perspective.