Pay the Piper

Without going to the trouble of actually doing research, I could think of two possible derivations or interpretations of the phrase, "pay the piper." One is the story of the Pied Piper of Hamlin. The other is something like, "He who pays the piper calls the tune." Both of these are similar in that they suggest that responsible action is not only the right course to take, but it bestows power and freedom on those who follow that path.

In Austin, I attend two Unitarian Churches. One is the big church on the north side, with overflow congregations, an extraordinary minister, and a terrific choir in which I struggle to blend in musically. The other is a start-up church on the south side, attended by 30-50 people each week that meets in a school and always has guest speakers. I enjoy both of them, for different reasons.

One of my favorite parts of the big church services is a new segment called Faith in Action. The first time I heard this, the new extraordinary minister, Reverend Ex, said he wanted to know what folks in the real world thought of the Unitarian Church, so he polled several people in the community, including the person in the city who is in charge of a program called Freeze Nights, in which churches open their doors to the homeless on cold nights. He asked if she was satisfied with the participation of the Unitarians. She said only five Austin churches participate in the program. Three will only accept people with children. One will take families, with or without children. Only the Unitarians would accept single men. She also was grateful that we don't try to convert anybody. We offer shelter, food, warm clothing, money, music, and friendship. And apparently, we do it very dependably. She said ours is the anchor church. Faith in action. Walking the walk.

The second week I heard a Faith in Action report, Reverend Ex talked about having attended a meeting with other Austin ministers at which the Chief of Police was the guest speaker. The Chief told about two men who had recently been released from prison after twelve years when it was shown that they were innocent. Ex asked the Chief if he thought it was likely that other innocent people were on death row, awaiting execution. He said yes. Ex then pointed out that the Austin Chief of Police has a very high profile position and a bully pulpit of his own and suggested that if he were to publicly mention his opinion about the death row inmates, innocent lives might be saved. When relating this to us, Ex admitted that it was unlikely that the Chief would withstand the political pressures that surround him and risk everything by sharing his views publicly, but the minister said he felt it was important that he ask him, that he plant the liberal idea in his mind.

Here's another example of faith in action. I met a lady who told me about one of her daughters--the political one. The daughter had always been involved in many good liberal causes. Then, at a workshop for anti-gun legislation, a Washington activist told her she would be more effective if she chose one group to devote herself to. Membership in other organizations was fine (often groups have more clout if they can say they represent a large membership), but she should focus her energies on just one. She chose gun control and started a group in Austin that became so large and effective, she traveled all over Texas helping like-minded people to organize. Eventually, she was offered a permanent position as a gun control lobbyist, working in Washington, making a good salary, energized to be doing something she's so passionate about.

Many of the Longview UUs also walk the walk of their beliefs. You participate in Habitat work sessions. I remember that amazing Crop Walk in which our tiny church raised so much more money and had so much more participation than the larger churches. It really opened my eyes to how effective even a small group of people can be. Virginia is a one-person commitment machine with all her work with Hospice and her other altruistic pursuits. I personally think your frequent letters to the editor and the panel discussions have been the most visible, courageous way you've chosen to live your faith when surrounded by so many who don't share your views. When Durrell said this congregation is of vital importance to this entire area, he was right. There are so few of you, you have to work much harder to promote the values of this body. And it takes a bit of courage to come out of the liberal closet in this area. You risk condemnation by your co-workers and sometimes your family. Of course, Unitarians wear righteous condemnation like a medal of honor.

I heard of a holy man who went to Sodom and Gomorrah. His preaching was unsuccessful. People said, "Why don't you quit? You can't change them." He said, "I continue so that the people here don't change me." It's a bit like being a salmon . . . . . always swimming upstream . . . . . besieged by bears . . . . . and fisher people.
Speaking of water, I remember the first time I ever went sailing. (Yes, it's related, sort of). I think I was about 14. My brother had saved up money from his paper route and had built a sailboat from a kit. In a rare show of friendship, he invited me to go sailing with him. I loved it. I sat back, dragging my fingers through the water, feeling the wind in my hair. This was great. Then, I heard my brother say something I had never heard before and had no understanding of---"Prepare to come about." I remember how impressed I was that my brother spoke Boat Talk, when I suddenly figured out what it meant. It meant that in about three seconds, with absolutely no warning, the sail is going to come across the boat, hit me in the chest, knock me into the water, and overturn the boat. He explained it all to me as we were treading water, and I watched my new tennis shoes slowly glug glug glug their way to the bottom of the lake.

In a liberal church, so often religion is a matter of thinking and discussion - not doing. It's cerebral, private, personal. It's comfortable not to do the action part. It's so much easier to just float along in the boat than it is to have to study the wind and the water, make adjustments to try to stay on course, work actively with the rest of the crew to adapt to the changes that surround you, haul in those ropes as fast as you can, repeatedly move your butt from one side of the thing to the other. It's easier to just float.

I eavesdropped on an interesting conversation at church one day. A guy was talking about having attended a Protestant church when he was much younger. His wife attended regularly, but he was there infrequently, so he was surprised and quite offended when he received a letter or phone call during the annual pledge drive or whatever they call it, asking for his promise to give a tenth of his earnings to the church. He said he didn't think he should have to pay the church anything. He supported the church with his presence. He listened intently to the sermons, joined his voice in the singing, and complimented the minister when he thought the sermon had made sense. That should be enough. When he was older, he started coming to the Unitarian church where he heard something one day that changed his philosophy about financially supporting a church. He heard that in Germany, for hundreds of years, the church had been funded totally by the State. No collection plate was passed. No tithes were demanded. The government paid for everything. So when Hitler began his campaign to eliminate various segments of the population, church leaders and members were caught in a dilemma. If they spoke out against the Nazis, they risked punishment and the dissolution of their church. If they were silent, their churches could remain a source of strength, and they could perhaps act on their faith and resist Hitler clandestinely . . . or not. When the young man heard that, he suddenly realized exactly what he would be paying for with weekly donations. He was paying the piper for services rendered. For a safe place in which to voice his opinion and discuss his beliefs with open-minded others who would respect his thoughts and treat him as a moral equal even if his ideas differed from theirs. Paying the piper shows that you value the extraordinary gift of a freethinking church.

Reverend Ex frequently quotes his favorite theologian, a biblical scholar named Origen who was born in 143, was widely revered as a great thinker for many years, but who was eventually tortured and executed. Sometime I'd like to present a program on this extraordinary man, but for now, I'll just give you a hint as to why he's so impressive. He espoused the religious intellectualism of his day. He said the scriptures invited four levels of interpretation. The basest one was literal, for the very young and for those who were incapable of more abstract thinking. The second was symbolic, recognizing ancient meanings and allusions that led those who were in the know down a different spiritual path. The third was transcendent, abstract, the intellectualization of the philosophical concepts revealed in the scriptures through parable and midrash. But the fourth and highest level was the real life application of The Word. Faith in action. Walking the walk. Paying the piper.

Most of us lead ordinary lives, griping about what we don't agree with, waiting for something to happen to change those things. It's like "Waiting for Godot." The play will be finished, and we will still be sitting by the side of the road, waiting. If we want things, we have to be willing to pay the price to get them.

The only true miracle is the gift of life.

We are paid in full the day we're born. The rest is up to us. Too many people visit churches as if they were shopping at the mall, waiting for something to happen to make them buy in to that church. We sit passively waiting for swarms of people to make us feel welcome. Attending a church service is an activity, not a passivity. If you want to feel chosen, you have to choose. If you want to feel part of something, jump into the fray. There are plenty of worthy causes to embrace, plenty of evils to protest, wrongs to right, people to reach out to. No one knows what to call this need in us--life force? Tao? But we all want to call it forth. If we do, it will make all the difference in the world.

Kathy Lansford
2/25/01