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None of us were alive then, but let me ask you to think back a couple of hundred years. Do you have any idea how many Unitarian and Universalist religious communities were present in Illinois , Wisconsin , and Missouri two hundred years ago?

The historical records are pretty sketchy, but if you guessed “none,” you’re basically correct. On the Unitarian side, First Unitarian Church of St. Louis was founded in 1834, followed in 1836 by the church in Alton , Illinois , and three years later by the church in Quincy , Illinois . The First Unitarian Society of Chicago was founded in 1836, and a church was founded in Milwaukee in 1842. The earliest Universalist churches (that I can find records of) are those founded in Joliet , Illinois in 1836, Racine , Wisconsin in 1842, and Peoria , Illinois , in 1843[1].

In the 1830s and 1840s, Unitarian and Universalist leaders in the East recognized that a great westward expansion was taking place in the United States, and both faith traditions mobilized their resources to send “missionaries” – yes, there have been both Unitarian and Universalist “missionaries” – to spread the “good news” of our traditions. The histories and records I have been able to find tell the Unitarian side of the story in much greater detail, so there is more that I can say about the Unitarian efforts.

The first wave of missionary effort was organized at the Boston headquarters of the American Unitarian Association, and it consisted of sending out ministers “willing” to serve in the rough and tumble “west” to organize new congregations there. The “West” at this time, included places like Cincinnati , Ohio , Louisville , Kentucky , and St. Louis , Missouri . There were relatively few “young men” (and at that time, all Unitarian and Universalist ministers were men) willing to undertake such efforts in places so lacking of culture and comfort, so they were sent, often with some financial support from the Boston headquarters, into the major river towns (St. Louis and Alton, for example) and lake ports (e.g., Chicago and Milwaukee).

A second great wave of “missionary” activity, at least on the Unitarian side, took place in the second half of the 19^th century. By this time, there was some recognition that the “West” – what we today would call the Midwest or the Great Plains – was not entirely the same as New England , that there were geophysical, cultural, economic, and political differences that ought to be taken into account. Given these differences, and the distances involved, and the difficulty of communication existing in the 19^th century, the AUA formed a new organization, the Western Unitarian Conference, and founded a new theological school to serve the “West.” It was even located in the west, that is, in the western part of the state of Pennsylvania , in the town of Meadville , from which the school took its name.

A young man named Jenkin Lloyd Jones grew up in Spring Green, Wisconsin (just a bit west of Madison) and fought as a Union soldier during the Civil War before attending Meadville Theological School (then located in western Pennsylvania). After short periods of ministry in congregations in Winnetka, Illinois and Janesville, Wisconsin, he served as Secretary of the Western Unitarian Conference from 1875 to 1884.

A little over a month ago, Lillian Adams spoke here about the Prophetic Sisterhood, a group of pioneering women ministers – some Unitarians and some Universalists – who were dramatically successful in creating and sustaining congregations in Iowa and other Midwestern states, and who both embodied and preached the equality of women as well as the teachings of liberal religion. These women – Olympia Brown, Augusta Chapin, Mary Safford, Florence Buck, Eleanor Gordon, and so many others – were part of this second wave of “missionary” work. Unlike the Unitarian leadership in Boston, the Western Unitarian Conference (and Jenkin Lloyd Jones, in particular) valued these female colleagues. Jones actively supported them and encouraged their work.

In Freedom Moves West: a History of the Western Unitarian Conference, Charles Lyttle describes the dramatic results Jones and his colleagues accomplished during this time:

. . . in 1875, there was but one state conference (Wisconsin); there was no headquarters [office], no periodical. There were only 43 active societies, and they were in debt for over $100,000 [collectively]. In 1880, there were 61 active societies, church indebtedness had been reduced almost $50,000; the Women’s Liberal Union of the Conference was maintaining a Chicago office . . . with a full-time office secretary . . . and [the periodical] Unity was a cheerful, widely welcomed courier of Conference news, liberal morale, and advanced theological and social opinion. And there were now six state conferences . . . [pp. 136-137].

How was this dramatic growth accomplished? In an 1871 lecture entitled “The Missionary Spirit,” Jenkin Lloyd Jones begins with the parable of the Sower and the Seed, and suggests that his Unitarian brothers and sisters need to foster greater zeal in the spread of the good news of liberal religion. “Scatter the seed everywhere,” he says, “and leave the consequences to God. [Let us] preach this gospel to every living creature!”

But, Jones laments, we’re not very good at this. While other faith traditions rejoice in the opportunity to spread their word, we tolerate the idea (and expenses) of missionary work. Why, he asks, is this the case? In response to this question, Jones offers three reasons, and it seems to me that they speak to us today, one hundred and forty years later, as well as to his times.

First, he argues, we’d like to think we don’t need to make that effort, that societal forces will bring people to our doors. As people become more educated, as the influence of science and technology expand, the beauty of a liberal religion based in reason will become apparent to people, and they will find us. Jones agrees – “our age,” he says, “is ripe for a more genial religious faith. . . . Thousands all over our land are hungering for better spiritual nourishment and wherever the believer of our liberal faith does speak of it out loud, willing listeners are universally found” [pp. 8-9].

Second, he notes that we prefer to do our proclamation through the printed word – today we might include the website and the digital word as well – rather than through the testimony of a living soul. But, he argues, “. . . if the history of religion teaches us anything, it is that the thrilling voices of inspired souls, the kindling earnestness of quickened breasts, the sympathetic eloquence of a human presence [– these] stand first among the . . . means of regenerating the world, of helping [humanity] along” [pp. 11-12]. Our gospel, he says, is one best taught by living human example, not by words on a page [p. 14].

And third, Jones states his belief that we consider our faith to be “. . . of such a refined and sublimated character that none but the more ethereal . . . can receive or appreciate it” [p. 15]. Today, I would refer to this as “elitism,” as expression of the idea that not everyone is intellectually or psycho-spiritually capable of appreciating our faith. But Jenkin Lloyd Jones will have none of this! He argues his own story in response – the story of the barefoot farm-boy who learned to love the liberal teachings of Unitarianism in a rural, Wisconsin community. What we need, he claims in the language of his age, is “a stronger faith and a holier zeal. We need to find and encourage those who are eager to stand up and speak our gospel, who see the success of our movement as greater than the success of a given church [p. 28].

And a third great wave of active, intentional work to extend the Unitarian faith took place following the end of World War II, from roughly 1948 to 1965. This was the AUA’s “Fellowship Movement,” and it resulted in the formation of the this congregation in Carbondale in 1953, as well as congregations in Charleston, Decatur, Deerfield, DeKalb, Macomb, Naperville, Park Forest, Springfield, and Winnetka (in Illinois alone). The Fellowship movement was truly a new approach to the organization of religious communities, in that it embodied recognition by the AUA of the principle that a local society need not have an ordained religious leader in order to be a meaningful religious community. Further, it embodied the recognition that there was no “single approach” to the formation of a lay-led religious society that would create success. Local initiative and leadership had to be encouraged and supported, and local variation was to be celebrated, rather than use of a “one size fits all” approach, as had been used in earlier AUA programs to establish “lay centers.”

As described in Laile Bartlett’s interesting book Bright Galaxy: Ten Years of Unitarian Fellowships, the core content and method of the AUA’s Fellowship Plan was this:

An official and denominationally sponsored program, with a headquarters office which

Under the leadership of Monroe Husbands (a lay person) and Lon Ray Call (the AUA’s Minister-at-Large), 315 lay-led Fellowships were formed between 1948 and 1958, most in the United States, and a few in other countries. Ten of those were formed in Illinois, eight in Wisconsin, and two in Missouri.

I have described, very briefly, three waves of growth of Unitarianism and Universalism in this part of the United States: (1) missionaries sent to the major river and lake towns in the 1830s and 1840s; (2) the active, intentional “missionary” efforts of the Western Unitarian Conference, led by Jenkin Lloyd Jones and the Iowa Sisterhood; and (3) the Fellowship movement following the conclusion of World War II. As I think about these periods, and about what else was going on within our movements at these times, I am struck by the fact that there was not only significant growth of the movement at each of these times, but also significant theological growth – some would chose the term “theological controversy” – present at these times. Can this be a coincidence? Or could it be that theological growth and institutional growth are somehow positively related to each other?

During the first wave of missionary effort, the Transcendentalist Controversy raged throughout the Unitarian movement, and the Restorationist controversy dominated the attention of many Universalists. Put very briefly, the transcendentalists offered the thesis that nature itself was at least as much a source of divine inspiration as the Judeo-Christian scriptures, and openness to the importance of the divine spirit within the individual. The Universalist “Restorationist” controversy concerned the question of whether universal salvation was immediate after death for all souls, or whether some souls might suffer in atonement for some period of time before their eventual salvation.

Later in that century, in the time of Jenkin Lloyd Jones and the Iowa Sisterhood, the American Unitarian Association squared off with the bulk of the leaders of the Western Unitarian Conference in the theological dispute sometimes referred to as the “Issue in the West.” The easterners in the AUA were concerned that the movement needed to establish and maintain a clear “Christian” identity, while (most of) the westerners felt that it was sufficient to promote “freedom, fellowship, and character in religion.”

In the 1950s, the great question was the proposed merger of the Unitarian and Universalist national institutions. This was not without controversy on both sides, and it clearly generated a great deal of theological as well as institutional energy.

This prompts me to ask the question “Do we create the energy for the growth of our movement through theological controversy?” I have to admit that I do not know the answer, but I do find this worthy of further examination, and I promise that I will be reporting back to you on this question! And I invite any and all of you who might find this question intriguing to join me in its study . . .

consciously – and passionately! – articulates a three-point rationale for congregational growth:

It seems to me that these three points are as true of Carbondale as they are of Milwaukee – I would argue, with Drew and with Jenkin Lloyd Jones and with Monroe Husbands and Ray Lon Call that we hold something precious in our hands, something unique, something that grows as we give it away, as we share it with others. That something is, of course, our liberal religious movement based in freedom, reason, tolerance, and love. Let us welcome all who arrive here, but let us do more than that. Let us, let each one of us – at least occasionally – take the risk of speaking out with zeal and conviction! Let us teach our faith by our example; in doing so, we celebrate, and we honor, and – most importantly – we continue our heritage of growth!

[1] Dates describing the formation of societies come from the society’s descriptions in the 2003-2004 Central Midwest District Directory.

Our Heritage of Growth