Ethics and Rhetoric: How to Market Your Faith Without Sinking to the Squalor

This sermon was given on 14 September, 2014, by Doug Trenfield.

Reading 1:

Some displays of rhetoric are clearly unethical. These occur, for example, when a speaker uses flourishes to make himself seem impressive or half-truths to manipulate his listeners. At its worst, rhetoric can become mere propaganda.

Nevertheless, these are the abuses and not the uses of rhetoric. Rhetoric has a vital role in both speaking and writing. It involves the skill of ordering ideas so that people are able to follow a sequence of thought. It includes the removal of obstacles that would impede legitimate persuasion. An effective rhetor is able to lead his listeners or readers to observe the world from a new and different points of view so that they can intelligently consider it's legitimacy. 

     Kevin T. Bauder, reviewing Weaver's The Ethics of Rhetoric

 Reading 2:

Matilda Who told Lies, and was Burned to Death

Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,

It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes;

Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,

Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,

Attempted to Believe Matilda:            

The effort very nearly killed her,

And would have done so, had not She

Discovered this Infirmity.

For once, towards the Close of Day,

Matilda, growing tired of play,

And finding she was left alone,

Went tiptoe to the Telephone

And summoned the Immediate Aid

Of London's Noble Fire-Brigade.

Within an hour the Gallant Band

Were pouring in on every hand,

From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow.

With Courage high and Hearts a-glow,

They galloped, roaring through the Town,

'Matilda's House is Burning Down!'

Inspired by British Cheers and Loud

Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,

They ran their ladders through a score

Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;

And took Peculiar Pains to Souse

The Pictures up and down the House,

Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded

In showing them they were not needed;

And even then she had to pay

To get the Men to go away,      

It happened that a few Weeks later

Her Aunt was off to the Theatre

To see that Interesting Play

The Second Mrs. Tanqueray.

She had refused to take her Niece

To hear this Entertaining Piece:

A Deprivation Just and Wise

To Punish her for Telling Lies.

That Night a Fire did break out--

You should have heard Matilda Shout!

You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,

And throw the window up and call

To People passing in the Street--

(The rapidly increasing Heat

Encouraging her to obtain

Their confidence) -- but all in vain!

For every time she shouted 'Fire!'

They only answered 'Little Liar!'

And therefore when her Aunt returned,

Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

                                Hillaire Belloc

Sermon: Ethics and Rhetoric: How to Market Your Faith Without Sinking to the Squalor

by Doug Trenfield


My Father. Can I brag a bit about my dad? I don't think I have before. I know I've bragged about my mom. Dad was extraordinary, too. In his way, just as extraordinary as Mom. Dad came from good folk. Born in 1924 outside Follett, Texas, on the Box T Ranch. They did pretty well, even through the Depression, but demand for cattle was relatively inflexible. People needed meat. But it was still a hard life. 

Dad was the only one of his brood to graduate from college. The others--he had two brothers and three sisters--loved learning, but in 'dem days a college degree wasn't necessary for one to make a good life. One of his brothers settled into a career with the USPS. Another kept the ranch after their dad died. All of them settled within a day's drive of the homestead. Except Dad.

Dad got hisself an ed-jee-cay-shun. Went as far as he could. Got a doctorate. And when he got his doctorate he took us away from his family to Indiana, because when you're a prof, you've got to move. Ain't that many jobs. And his family was cool with that. Dad had been, after all, always a little different. Well-loved and loving of his family, but a little different. 

But I want to dwell a bit on how he was like his family, what he took with him and kept with him for all his days from being in the Trenfield clan. A commitment to honesty. I'm sure he lied some. Who doesn't? How else could he have stayed married for 49 years? But I seriously don't think he even lived a lie for even a short time or lied in any major way. But being honest, doncha' know, is more than not telling lies. Oh, Dad was committed to that as well, but sometimes we're dishonest with others because we're dishonest with ourselves. Well, that's a little harsh. Not so much dishonest with ourselves, but having aspects of ourselves we don't yet understand. Dad was a staunch supporter of the Civil Rights Movement, yet when my older sister Gail, a teenager at the time, maybe 1970, brought home a black boy friend, Dad hit the roof, though I don't think he knew why. Obviously some racism had found harbor someplace that was beyond the reaches of his intellect. 

So my obsession with honesty--which certainly doesn't mean I am an exemplar of an honest person--comes from my upbringing, hence my interest in today's topic, Ethics and Rhetoric. I'd wanted to do something on this for a while, but wasn't sure how it would connect with the seven principles (I think it relates to number 2 the best, although some might say that at times treating someone kindly might mean obscuring certain truths) and issues that we face at church. And I didn't want to use the pulpit to just carry on about my stuff unless it could be your stuff too. But then a month ago, while researching for my talk on Standing on the Side of Love, I was struck by how slick the related site was. And this was when my head started spinning, spinning trying to follow the dialogue in my head.

"I believe Standing on the Side of Love is a good thing."

"I believe we should market Standing on the Side of Love because it is a good thing." 

"Marketing is not bound by ethics. And that's bad."

"We'll apply our ethics and it will be okay."

"Are our ethics really all that boss? Who's to say?"

"We're UU. Of course they are!"

"Isn't that what people I disagree with say?"

I hate it when that happens. Gives me a damned headache. 

By why, you may be wondering, is this dialogue anything more than an obsessive's rambling? Just tell the truth. Just represent our church, our ideas. Our initiatives, beliefs, principles. Honestly. See, this is where I get a little obsessive, but like all obsessives, I believe my obsessiveness is reasonable. You might disagree, but I'm going to make my case. 

Okay, marketing is rhetoric, and rhetoric is marketing. Rhetoric is ethics neutral. It's persuasion. It's a tool. Aristotle, who wrote the book on rhetoric--no really--defines rhetoric as "the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion." Any given case. That includes just and unjust cases. Before Aristotle, the Greeks considered rhetoric unseemly, something practiced by the unethical sophists (hence the term sophistry). As it was explained to me, Aristotle pretty much said, "Hey, if the bad guys use rhetoric, good guys better learn to use it too."

But that's not much help to me, because I'm not sure I'm the one who should get to designate who the good guys and bad guys are. 

I'm spinning my wheels, aren't I? I do that when trying to follow this dialogue between ethics and rhetoric. It isn't that hard for everyone. So I'll move on now to the subtitle of today's tal, Marketing Your Faith Without Sinking to the Squalor. In 1997, Phillip D. Kenneson, a professor of theology at Milligan College in Tennessee, and James Street, Pastor of North River Community Church in Lawrenceville, Georgia, published Selling Out the Church: The Dangers of Church Marketing. In his review, Jamie Dunlop writes:

[They] contend that the market orientation... changes not just a churches style but, contrary to the assertions of church marketing proponents, changes it's substance as well. Though the basic outline of the gospel may remain in tact [sic] in a marketing-oriented church, the God-given mission of the church has been exchanged for a focus on "effectiveness" and "customer satisfaction."

Or, in the famous words of Marshall McLuhan, "The medium is the message." We can't help that from being so. Whenever we choose to communicate something, we choose how we communicate it, and how we choose to communicate it becomes embedded in the message. 

And that's why it's so difficult to truly be honest. What is it to be honest? Was my dad dishonest when he said that he supported civil rights but got mad at my sister for bringing home a black friend in 1970? Am I dishonesty when I say my health is everything to me, but I eat a pint of ice cream tonight because I'm depressed? Nobody would say so in either case. But are we dishonest when we say we accept everyone, according to the third principle, but by our talk during coffee after the service make it clear that we really have trouble accepting fundamentalist Christians? Again, I think not, but we're moving into a gray area. And it's those gray areas that make me uncomfortable. 

But then, I'm obsessed. 

Look. I don't think we're in trouble here. If I were speaking to a Christian megachurch, I'd me more ardent in applying a strict application of ethics to our marketing. Meg Barnhouse, pastor at Austin's First UU, and I had an email exchange about marketing. I initiated the exchange in preparing this talk. I asked her to reflect on church marketing. First UU is a big church with lots going on, kind of like a Christian megachurch without, it always seemed to me, the pretense. And I only say "it always seemed to me" because the topic of this talk requires I thusly couch the observation. 

She wrote, "We do talk about having a marketing plan, mostly to let our current members know what is going on at the church. I think a marketing plan for outreach is interesting because it leads to a conversation about who you are trying to reach. It is embarrassing to have a conversation about trying to reach gay people or people of color, because those people find it a bit creepy to be targeted. I think.... good people doing good work is the best marketing plan."

Good people doing good work. Yeah, that's what I always liked about being here and going to Austin. And I think that's our best marketing. Are we good people? I'm not even going to obsess here. I believe strongly that we are. At a certain point, even I have to let go of my obsessing with whether my judgements are correct. We have to believe in the Philosopher-King in each of us, that part of us that because of good home trainin' and other kinds of training has a pretty good sense of what is right and what is wrong. 

After Sunday school one day, back in my Presbyterian days in Brownsville, a few friends and I were enjoying a bit of esoterica (kind of like I'm doing now by using the word esoterica) talking about how one can judge correct action. One of us threw in (it wasn't me), "Look. Ninety percent of the time you know what the right thing to do is. Flip a coin for the other ten percent, and you're be right ninety-five percent of the time if you'll just always do what you think is right." I don't know if he got the percentages right, but we took his point. 

I like how we market. We keep up, but we don't flas more than anyone else. Ten years ago, a web page and a blog would be--whoa, what do you need those things for?--maybe a little showy. Now it's just what a church does. And the best marketing is, as Meg said, good people doing good work. 

So I've got not much to say about how we market other than that I like it. But I home my talk today, my bringing you in to the obsession that I have with ethics and rhetoric, my meanderings, has maybe meant something to you personally. I joke, really, about being obsessed. Being obsessed is unreasonable. And I do firmly believe (or else I'm just obsessed) that the internal dialogue between ethics and rhetoric is an important one.

The Labyrinth: A Place for Reflection, a Space for the Spirit

If you have been to our church, you have probably noticed a circular path on the northeast corner of the property; it has a painted sign and is surrounded by large and colorful flora. This is our labyrinth, and we welcome anyone who needs a quiet moment to walk through it. 

The labyrinth is a work in progress that began in the Fall of 2011, but really, it began in 2001. Carolyn Nieland, a long-time UU, was going through turbulent emotional times, when a friend suggest she retreat to a camp dedicated to earth-centered spirituality. Carolyn calls this retreat her odyssey. She says it changed her life; it put her on a new path and dedicated her to using her skills for the benefit of her community. Around the time of her return, the same friend was building a labyrinth, and Carolyn offered her time as an assistant on the project. It was her first experience with a labyrinth, and she fell in love. 

Carolyn used this 9 circuit design as inspiration.
The snake's body represents the path.

Carolyn obtained her degree in art education, and has worked with all kinds of media: fiber arts, pottery, and photography mainly, but also gardening and the 2001 labyrinth. Since then, she’s quit using cameras and sewing machines, and prefers not to use a computer, but her interest in nature has remained unchanged. To user her own words, she’s “like those old UUs, who was it? Thoreau? I am worshipping when I am in nature. Now, when you sit on that bench, in the shade behind the labyrinth, it’s sort of a temple.” For Carolyn, the labyrinth was a spiritual artwork; each circuit has a meaning, motivated by her interest in the feminine divine and earth-based spirituality. The outer three circuits represent outward reality—the world as it is—the inner three represent our inner emotional world, and the middle path represents the spiritual space between them—our jumbled interactions. The number three has powerful meaning for many religions, and the circuits may mean different things to different people who walk the path. Some might see the outer path as the human world, the inner as the spirit realm, and the middle as the veil between them. Or, perhaps each track means nothing, but the act of meandering through them allows the traveler space to meditate or process complex emotions. For many in our fellowship and the surrounding community, the labyrinth is a place of healing and spiritual renewal. 

At the dedication ceremony in 2012, most of the plants are still in pots!
Photo courtesy of Ray Perez

Tom laying bricks in 2014; look how the plants have grown!

Surrounding the labyrinth is a colorful array of Valley wildlife: esperanza, Turk’s cap, purple porter weed, dwarf Poinciana, and many different herbs including lemon grass, Cuban oregano, and rosemary. There is even a pomegranate tree! Carolyn said that, as an artist, she tried to put colors and heights together in an aesthetically pleasing manner, and as an earth-centered person she was influenced by Native Americans and the cardinal directions, the wheel of the Earth, and her roots in rural Nebraska, but, “It’s really for the birds and butterflies. I don’t speak Spanish, so it’s hard for me to advocate well for those in need in this area. But, I’m determined to help our feathered migrants.” She would like to expand the gardens and add a water feature, so the space can be a sanctuary for people, birds, and butterflies alike.

When asked about why she built it, Carolyn explained that participation in a community involves your time, talent, or treasure. In her words, “I wanted to do what I could with what I had—with who I am.” The labyrinth was intended as an educational and outreach tool. Unitarian Universalists affirm many different ideas of spirituality, and a labyrinth is welcoming to all of them. Her greatest pride in her work, what she calls the “nicest success,” is the ever-increasing community involvement. While working on the labyrinth, Carolyn formed lasting friendships with two women who live nearby, and they often tell her when they see people walking the labyrinth during the week. When she talks about how many people are involved, Carolyn’s usual smile gets even wider and pride beams from her face. There is a woman from the neighborhood who pulls weeds and waters the plants during the week, neighbors have contributed bricks to outline the path (the latest are from a toppled mailbox), one neighbor donated a hibiscus, and quite a few fellowship members have donated plants, time, and labor to keep the garden growing. And we cannot forget Carolyn’s husband Tom, who has supported her vision from the beginning and, in Carolyn’s words, “has been stalwart in this whole thing.” He can usually be seen doing upkeep or digging holes for new plants. 

Native American style labyrinth
in Arizona

Chartres labyrinth in France

Labyrinths are an ancient and can be found all over the world. Their exact origins are unknown. What is clear is that we humans have been fascinated with these intricate walkways for longer than we can imagine. Over the centuries, labyrinths have evolved in style and use. We often think of the Greek labyrinth which imprisoned the Minotaur as a frightening maze, but during the middle ages, labyrinths were featured in tile inside many Catholic churches, the most famous of these is the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France, which was walked as a pilgrimage, or traveled on the knees as penance and is still used by visitors to this day. Landed aristocracy in Europe would often build elaborate hedge-mazes, but some labyrinths are modeled after Native-American symbols and designs. They are used all over the world by all kinds of people for all different reasons. Children might run through a labyrinth, while adults tend to take a meditative or prayerful pace. Some people keep their eyes on the path, while others prefer to take in the sky. Whatever your reason, we invite you to stop by and walk our labyrinth. Whether you are young, old, a friend, or a stranger, feel free to step into this peaceful space at any time.

Carolyn and Tom Nieland at the dedication in 2012. Our labyrinth is part of the Gover Memorial Garden,
dedicated to a member of our fellowship who passed away, and to all the loved ones we've lost.
Photo courtesy of Ray Perez

 If you are interested in learning more about our labyrinth, or scheduling a group walk-and-talk, contact us at fellowship@uufhc.org or uufhcbloggers@gmail.com.