"Honoring the Masculine"

Our Unitarian Universalist principles affirm "the acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations." Spiritual growth includes ethical and moral development - learning the principles of right or good conduct. It is also more.

Spiritual growth is the process by which we become the people we are called to be in fidelity to what we value most dearly. I value wholeness, or completeness. One image I have of wholeness and completeness comes from the Hebrew Bible: "So you, God, created me in your own image, in your image, God, you created me, male and female you created us all."

To become whole and complete persons each of us must recognize that we are both masculine and feminine; we have traits and characteristics that are usually attributed to each gender. One way to discuss this idea is to say that while a man on the exterior is masculine, inside he has both feminine and masculine traits. And while a woman on the exterior is feminine, inside she has both masculine and feminine traits. In order for us to become whole, to grow spiritually, both our masculine and our feminine aspects must mature. If both don't mature, there will be an imbalance and we will feel incomplete. Today, in honor of Father's Day, I'd like to talk about the spiritual journey toward wholeness from a masculine point of view.

How does a man grow spiritually? And of what importance is his interior feminine aspect to him in his spiritual growth?

Think about heroes. Think about all the stories, all the myths, all the movies, all the famous men, your father, your brother, your husband, your son, yourself, if you're a man. Think of all the men you have ever known. Think of their journeys through life. My guess is that one of the images you are getting is that of activity - call them quests, call them odysseys, call them pioneering - whatever you call these male journeys, they are active and full of adventure.

One image I have comes from what I have learned and continue to learn from my sons about what it is to be masculine. Consider the young boy as he sits and draws. This is a passive pursuit, right? Wrong! This is an active pursuit. [PANTOMINE AND NOISES OF BOY DRAWING WAR SCENE] What mother hasn't flinched as she has heard the daily sounds of battle coming from her son's nursery? This is not the feminine way to color, her way to draw pictures. It is masculine. The masculine is active.

I have also learned about the masculine from studying male archetypes. Some two thousand years ago, in the city of Carthage (which is now called Tunis) on the north coast of Africa a nine-year-old boy was led by his father to the sacrificial altar of the ancient god Ba'al. There the father made the boy swear an oath to dedicate his life to the destruction of Rome and its people. The boy's name was Hannibal, the Carthaginian.

For more than three decades Hannibal waged war against the Romans. He became one of the greatest generals of all time, ranked by historians as a military genius superior to Alexander the Great and Napoleon Bonaparte. His strategies and tactics are studied today in military academies throughout the world.

Hannibal was the man who led 90,000 foot soldiers, 12,000 soldiers mounted on horses, and 37 elephants on a 3,000 mile journey from Spain, across the Pyrenees through snow and ice, over the Rhone River, across the Alps through more snow and ice, and into Italy to wage war with Rome. Hannibal was successful in this mission because of his ability to inspire his troops, his personal courage, and his creative solutions to what seemed impossible situations. For sixteen years Hannibal marched through Italy, even down into the toe and the heel, and was never defeated in battle.

Several years ago, when I was still actively parenting my children as a single mom, Hannibal showed up on one of my dreams. Because I was not a student of history, I had to find out something about him in order to try to figure out what he was doing in my dream. So I began reading about Hannibal. The public library had many books about Hannibal, some of them very old and smelling strongly of mold and dust. One of these was the 1926 play Road to Rome by Robert Sherwood, the award-winning playwright and author of The Petrified Forest. Road to Rome had 159 performances on Broadway.

For centuries historians and biographers have wondered why Hannibal never attacked Rome. In his play Robert Sherwood suggests a mythic reason - that Hannibal was maturing spiritually.

Last week, when I spoke of Honoring the Feminine, I used the myth of Psyche and Eros. I described Psyche's passivity and how she learned, through a series of tasks to nurture and develop her interior masculine aspects. The interior masculine ripens by doing, leading the exterior female to become a whole person.

This week we discover the interior feminine ripens by contemplation, leading the exterior male to become a whole person. Sherwood's play sets up an encounter between Hannibal and Amytis, the wife of a Roman official. Their encounter occurs in Act Two. Their dialogue mirrors Hannibal's interior process.

As the scene opens we see Hannibal talking with his subordinates. His army has just won a victory over the Roman army, and now they prepare for a siege on Rome the next day. Just as Hannibal is about to eat supper, a guard enters, dragging Amytis and her two servants. Hannibal orders the usual penalty for the treachery of spying - death. Amytis convinces Hannibal to postpone her execution and her servants' until she has a chance to speak with him. He assents. The servants exit under guard, and Amytis and Hannibal begin their dialogue.

Amytis is intrigued with Hannibal's determination and drive to be a victor, to have power over his troops and those he conquers. Why?

HANNIBAL: When I was a child, my father laid me on the altar of Ba-al and consecrated me to the destruction of Rome. Since that moment, I've never been an individual - I've been a force, divinely inspired to crush the enemies of Carthage.

AMYTIS: You're using the gods as an excuse for your own murders.

HANNIBAL: Those who kill for the glory of the gods are not murderers.

AMYTIS: Who told you that? One of the high priests, I suppose.

HANNIBAL: Ba-al himself has spoken to me. Throughout my life I have been driven forward by his voice, saying, "Go on, Hannibal, go on, with sword and flame, until you have destroyed the glory of Rome."

AMYTIS: That wasn't the voice of Ba-al, Hannibal. That was the voice of the shopkeepers in Carthage, who are afraid that Rome will interfere with their trade. Hatred, greed, envy, and the passionate desire for revenge - these are the high ideals that inspire you soldiers, Roman and Carthaginian alike. And when you realize the shameful futility of your great conquests, you turn around and attribute it all to the gods. The gods are always convenient in an emergency.

HANNIBAL: What, may I ask, is the object of this conversation? Do you think you can talk me away from Rome?

A young boy learns early that if the need arises he will be sacrificed in battle for his nation's gods. In this country, even though we have not had to use the draft for decades, it is still a rite of passage for young men nearing the age of eighteen to register for the draft. This is an enormous burden.

Once, when my sons were in their teens, I discovered my older son reading about the U.S. Civil War. He told me that he wanted to see if war were less horrible in the days when weapons were simpler. He said he had learned that war has always been horrible, that men died in the Civil War of infection and trauma, whereas in modern times we had the instruments to blow a man to pieces. He came to the conclusion that all war was horrible.

Before Amytis arrives on stage in Act Two, Hannibal's men are celebrating their victory over the Romans. Hannibal does not join them. Hasdrubal, one of Hannibal's generals speaks:

HASDRUBAL: Damn it all, sir, you don't seem to get any satisfaction out of anything. You ought to feel proud that our army has beaten the Romans whenever we've met them. You ought to be like the rest of us and celebrate a victory now and then. Sometimes, by the gods, I actually think you don;t care whether we win or lose.

HANNIBAL: It;s not quite as bad as all that, Hasdrubal. I do care whether we win or lose. I suppose it;s the only thing I have to care about in the whole world. But, if we win a victory, that;s that. We have to go on to the next battle, then the next, and the next, until we;ve finished this war. Then we go home to Carthage and start looking for another.

HASDRUBAL: You ought to take a rest, sir.

HANNIBAL: That's just the trouble with victory. You can't rest. You're only allowed to quit when you're losing. Look at those seventy thousand Roman soldier we butchered at Cannae. They don't care now whether Rome is destroyed or not. Their work is done. They're at liberty to take a rest - a long rest.

So, even before Hannibal meets Amytis, he questions the value of victory. His later encounter with Amytis takes his inner questioning to a deeper level:

AMYTIS: You, of course, are a god, Hannibal. Perhaps some day you'll discover that you're a man, and not ashamed to weaken. Perhaps, some day, you'll realize that there's a thing called the human equation. It's so much more beautiful than war.

HANNIBAL: The human equation does not interest me.

AMYTIS: Because you don't know what it is. If you could ever find it, you know that all your conquests - all your glory - are only whispers in the infinite stillness of time - that Rome is no more than a tiny speck on the face of eternity - that the gods are the false images of the unimaginative - and then you'll wish that all that you've done could be undone.

HANNIBAL: Where can I go to find this human equation?

AMYTIS: It is here - on earth - not on the heights of Olympus.

HANNIBAL: Perhaps I'll find it - but never with you. You must die.

AMYTIS: War is death, Hannibal. Rome is dying, Carthage is dying - but we're alive. You can conquer men, Hannibal. You can conquer armies. But you can't conquer life.

Amytis challenges the very tradition of war and power over with an invitation to be compassionate and humble.

Hannibal epitomizes masculine willingness to take risks. Amytis encourages him to examine his motives. In response to her probing, he speaks the following soliloquy:

HANNIBAL: One morning we were camped on the banks of the Rhone River. It was swollen with the spring floods. I had to get my army across - eighty thousand infantry, cavalry, elephants - with all their supplies. We had no boats of our own; there were no bridges. Across the river, a howling mob of Gauls was waiting to slaughter us as we landed. From the south, a large Roman army was advancing to attack us. I sent a small body of men upstream to get across as best they could and to attack the Gauls on their right flank. I was waiting for the signal from that detachment, and wondering whether I should ever set foot on the opposite bank. As I stood there, I asked myself, "Why do I do this? Even if a miracle occurs, and we do cross the river, what then? What will we have gained?" I didn't know.

Amytis probes further.

AMYTIS: But you did cross the river, didn't you, Hannibal?

HANNIBAL: Yes, we routed the Gauls, and tricked the Romans, and marched on to the Alps. Our men, who were accustomed to the fierce heat of Africa, had to plod through the Alpine snows, many of them in their bare feet. They had to drag the elephants and all the machinery of war with them, while the natives pushed avalanches down on our heads. When we came to the last line of mountains, and saw Italy spread out at our feet, I asked myself that same question. I've never been able to find an answer. I've watch our men slaughter the Romans in one terrible battle after another. Through all these years, I've seen nothing but death -- death - and I've never been able to find an answer. For ten years I've followed the road that leads to Rome, and it's a hard road to travel. It's littered with the bones of dead men. Perhaps they know why they died. I don't.

Near the end of the third act Hannibal still is not convinced that Amytis isn't a clever spy.

HANNIBAL: You have tried to build walls of words as a defense against my army.

AMYTIS: I'm not trying to save Rome, Hannibal. I'm trying to save you.

HANNIBAL: Why do you imagine that I'm worth saving?

AMYTIS: Let Rome and Carthage remember you as a great general, I want to remember you as a conqueror who could realize the glory of submission.

HANNIBAL: I came to conquer Rome. Anything short of that is failure.

AMYTIS: Are you sure of that? Are you sure that you didn't come all this way to find your own soul?

HANNIBAL: My own soul doesn't matter, Amytis. I myself amount to nothing. All of us amount to nothing. We stand aside and watch ourselves parade by! We're proud of the brave manner in which we step forward, and of the nobility of our bearing, and the sparkle of divine fire that is in our eyes - and actually, we have no more idea of where we're going, no more choice in the matter, than so many drops of water in a flowing river.

AMYTIS: Yes, and at the end of that river is an endless sea of things that are passed. It is called history. When you reach that sea, other drops of water may murmur respectfully, "Here comes Hannibal, the conqueror of Rome." But you won't care. You'll only be thankful for the interludes that you have known - peace and contentment in the deep, quiet pools.

In the end, Hannibal lets Amytis and her servants go and he aborts his siege on Rome, claiming to have had a portent from the gods - from Tanit, the daughter of Ba-al.

HANNIBAL: She told me to look for the human equation. "When you have found that," she said, "you will know that all your conquests, all your glory, are but whispers in the infinite stillness of time - that Rome is only a speck on the face of eternity."

Why did Hannibal appear in my dream? I believe he came to remind me how much of my life I had given over to getting the troops and the elephants over the Alps. Being an active single parent for 16 years was a little like marching with Hannibal for 16 years! In my dream Hannibal was a nurse, caring for a gravely ill woman. She represented my feminine self, long neglected during those 16 years. Hannibal served her now, that she might strengthen, that I may learn to bring compassion, tenderness, and trust to my ministry.

And what of our Unitarian Universalist movement? What can Hannibal and Amytis teach here today?

I think of a quote attributed to Thomas Starr King, the Universalist minister who brought our movement to the west coast of the U.S. King said that Unitarians think human beings are too good to be damned by God and Universalists think God is too good to damn human beings.

In 1961, when the American Unitarian Association and the Universalist Church of America merged, Unitarians had pretty much absented God from their movement. Notice that the Unitarians called their movement an Association. Unitarians emphasized human endeavor, the value of reason, and scientific process. In 1961, Universalists still held God at the center of their movement, which they called a Church. Universalists emphasized God's grace, the value of faith, and holiness.

One could say that in our movement the Unitarian strands represent the masculine and the Universalist strands represent the feminine. We need both. We need the Unitarian tradition of scholarship, willingness to speak out on social justice issues, aggressive battles with oppressive systems, and diligence in human undertakings. We need the Universalist tradition of prayer, willingness to look within to examine our own motives before we challenge others, opening to God's grace, and faithfulness to the Unity of all.

That our movement includes both Unitarian and Universalist strands challenges us to satisfy both those who would have intellectual stimulation in our services and those who would have spiritual content in our worship. The tension between the two is what makes us a great movement, I believe. We need both to climb Jacob's ladder and to dance Sarah's circle to find wholeness - to grow as religious and spiritual people.

Prayer for Father's Day

Spirit of Life, Source of All Being, hear our prayer this Father's Day.

We give thanks for lessons in justice taught us by our fathers and those who are surrogates for our fathers - those who help us discern right from wrong and do the right thing, even though it is difficult.

We give thanks for the gift of life, for passion to plant our seed, for protection to provide for our nurture, for generosity to guide our growth, respect to appreciate our unique blossom.

We give thanks for tough love, for diligence to enforce the rules and establish boundaries, for defense when others would harm us, for challenge when we would harm ourselves.

We give thanks for gentle love, for a solid embrace when the ground falls out from under us, for a helping hand when we stumble, for piggy back rides when we were too tired to walk on our own.

We forgive failed efforts, even as we ask forgiveness for our lack of appreciation for our fathers.

In silence we call to mind those we wish to remember this Father's Day, that our dreams may be renewed.

So be it. Blessed be. Yes!