Unitarians’ Unsplit Hairs

It’s hard to tell from the report whether the new Bishop of Albany, Edward Snarfenberger, was giving the kind of after dinner talk he the ecumenical Capital Region Theological Center expected for their fall fund-raising event, but this Unitarian-Universalist pastor’s summary suggests it was a good one. For example: “Most surprisingly given the liberal theological climate in Albany, he spoke about what was missing today was fear of Hell.”

But amusing as the poor befuddled but earnest man’s response is, I want to look at one sentence:

In the interfaith world, we often focus our energies on where we agree rather than splitting the theological hairs where we disagree.  

The man is a Unitarian-Universalist. He believes, as the old joke goes, in at most one God. The difference between whatever it is he believes — he describes himself as “a Unitarian Universalist that focuses on shared values rather than shared beliefs” — and the Christian belief in the Holy Trinity is tiny, so tiny as to be irrelevant. Just splitting hairs, trying to distinguish the two.

We think that with the Trinity comes the Incarnation and all that lovely salvation and God became man so that man might become god stuff. Won’t be missed, he suggests. Not important. God became man, God (whoever or whatever that is) didn’t become man, just a split hair’s difference.

And that surprising mention of Hell. Our pastor undoubtedly rejects the whole idea, except perhaps as an antiquated and dangerous metaphor. Eternal alienation from God a possibility, not to possibility, no real difference there.

Hell’s not often mentioned, I’ll grant, but if the Church is right about it, it’s something her bishops will feel a need to warn people about, like, oh, a doctor telling you about the ebola virus in that tent over there.

And I want even start on the muddle of “values” rather than “beliefs.” Splitting hairs, oh my paws and whiskers.*

My thanks to Stephen Smith and William Tighe for the link.

* An expression used by Professor Gervase Fen in the very entertaining mystery stories by Edmund Crispin.