The Transylvania Connection

June 3, 2001

“We human beings on earth are but one big family, and even if we are separated by small-scale interests, the flags of great ideas unify us.”
--Denes Jakab*

As many of you know, a centerpiece of my sabbatical next spring will be a return visit to our Unitarian Partner Church in the village of Ujszekely in Transylvania, a mostly rural area in the northeast corner of the country of Romania. “Transylvania” means “the land beyond (or behind) the forest.” Transylvania is a land of rolling green hills and beautiful valleys, of small, red-clay-tile-roofed villages and walled, medieval cities. The beautiful, snow-capped Carpathian Mountains loom in the distance. It is a poor place economically, but rich in the beauty of its land and in its friendly and hospitable people.

Forty percent of Transylvania’s population is Hungarian. This is because up until World War I, Transylvania was part of Hungary. Following Hungary’s defeat as part of the Axis powers in World War I, the Treaty of Trianon called for Hungary’s partition, and Transylvania became part of the modern nation of Romania. In Romania as a whole, only about seven percent of the population is Hungarian.

As an ethnic minority within Romania, the Hungarian population has often suffered hardship. The ethnic rivalries, unfortunately, run deep. While Romania has mostly managed to avoid the ethnic violence of other Balkan nations, as recently as the early 1990’s a group of unarmed Hungarians was attacked by a sythe and club yielding mob during economic rioting in the Transylvanian city of Tirgu Mures, only about fifty miles from our Partner Church village of Ujszekely.

Because most of the positions of power in Romania are held by Romanians, life can be challenging for the Hungarian minority. Even in remote villages like Ujszekely, the local police officer is always a Romanian, though practically everyone else in the village is Hungarian, and speaks Hungarian.

But these people are survivors. In the last century alone, they survived World War I, the annexation of their country by Romania, the rise of Nazism and World War II, and the fall of the Iron Curtain. They endured the terrible years of Soviet Communism, culminating in the overthrow and execution of their Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, one of whose goals had been to eradicate ethnic Hungarian culture in Romania; and they continue to endure the subsequent political corruption and economic hardships of post-Communist Eastern Europe.

In rural parts of Romania, where per capita incomes are extremely low, people survive mostly on a combination of subsistence farming and barter. (In addition to the use of a parsonage, our Partner Church minister Zsolt Jakab only makes about $800.00 a year.)

Among the Hungarian population in Romania, three religions have been traditionally practiced: Roman Catholicism, Protestant Reformed Calvinism (sometimes referred to as Presbyterianism), and Unitarianism. Only Unitarianism is indigenous. There are presently around 80,000 Unitarians in Transylvania. There is also a small German minority in Romania, called Saxons, who practice Lutheranism. The Romanians are Eastern Orthodox. This has always been a highly volatile religious mix, though in pre-Romanian days it was almost always the Unitarian Church which got the short end of the stick in Transylvania

Not surprisingly, the Hungarians nowadays stick together regardless of their religious affiliations. Several of the Unitarian Church buildings we visited during our visit to Transylvania last summer are shared with Reformed congregations. The Unitarian seminary in the Transylvanian city of Kolosvar--called Cluj-Napoca by the Romanians--is a joint venture with the Reformed Church.

Whereas Unitarianism in America was a direct outgrowth of New England Congregationalism as impacted by the Enlightenment, Unitarianism in Transylvania traces its roots directly to the Protestant Reformation of the 1500’s. The first use of the name “Unitarian” occurs around 1600 in Transylvania. The greatest hero of Transylvanian Unitarianism is the reformer David Ference, whom we know as Francis David, who lived from 1510 to 1579.

A brilliant and charismatic leader, David is most famous for his role in the 1568 Diet of Torda, which resulted in the great Edict of Torda, the first known declaration of religious toleration, and a document which allowed the “heretical” Unitarians to practice their religion as one of the so-called “four received faiths” of Transylvania. I preached about the Edict earlier this year in my sermon “Faith is the Gift of God.” David was later imprisoned for his religious views and died in captivity.

The history of Unitarianism is Transylvania is one of both advances and setbacks, but mostly of remarkable survival. It has survived numerous political and religious upheavals, and even a long period when any “innovation” in its practice was strictly forbidden by the ruling authorities. It is perhaps this latter factor which gives Transylvanian Unitarianism its almost medieval character and feel. There is something ancient and solid about Transylvanian Unitarianism which is both profound and comforting. Attending a Transylvanian worship service is a trip back in time.

Unitarianism in Transylvania differs from American Unitarian Universalism mainly in its continued adherence to the Bible as a spiritual guide and to the central role that Jesus continues to play in its theology. There is even a Bishop, formerly elected for life, but as of a few years ago elected for a single eight year term, not unlike our own UUA President. And despite the name, the duties of the Bishop today are quite similar to those of our President.

Some have described contemporary Transylvanian Unitarianism as being most similar to the 19th century rational Christian Unitarianism of William Ellery Channing. Unitarian Universalist minister Linda Stowell describes it as follows:

There are no crosses or pictures of Jesus in their churches, because their tradition is clear that Jesus was not God: “Egy as Isten”--God is One--is carved over almost every door. They are not exclusive, for they hold by the conviction of the Act of Toleration, that “Faith is the Gift of God,” and it is not for humans to impose on each other what should come from within. They use biblical texts for their sermons, and consider themselves followers of Jesus’ teachings. I do not know if you could find an atheist among them. Most of them are Unitarian because they were born Unitarian, although their church is growing.

Transylvanian Unitarians still celebrate communion, or as they usually call it, “the Lord’s Supper,” four times a year: at Easter, Pentecost, Fall Thanksgiving, and Christmas Sunday. It is an act done in memory of Jesus and the Last Supper, and its central emphasis is on the continuous creation of the human community. I have described in an earlier sermon my participation in the special Millenium Communion Service which was held during the worship service on our visit to Ujszekely last summer [“The Weight of History”]. The Transylvanian celebration of the Lord’s Supper is a powerful and moving ritual, one which I wish every one of you could experience some day.

Don’t be fooled by these traditional trappings, however, for the Transylvanian Unitarians are not stuck in the past. They are firm believers in religious freedom and freedom of conscience, in the use of reason in the interpretation of religious texts, and in the practice religious toleration. They are open to change and innovation, as the recent advent of women in the ministry is evidence. They are liberal in the best sense of the word. Their ministers are well educated and intellectually curious. They are especially curious about American Unitarian Universalism and what they can learn from us, but they are also protective, as well they should be, of their own, deep-rooted religious traditions.

And there is much that we can learn from them, not least of which is the powerful and courageous depth of their convictions which has allowed them to survive through the good times and the bad for over four hundred years; but also the great poetry and passion of their faith. More so than with us, religion is their life; it informs their lives on a daily basis.

You may remember meeting Denes Jakab, the Unitarian minister who is the father of our Partner Church minister Zsolt. His sermon “You Are Not Alone,” based on a biblical text in Jeremiah, is typical of the down-to-earth Transylvanian preaching:

Many a time we feel deserted. . . ; the knowledge of our living as a minority, our being so few and weak makes us sad. But we feel our powers doubled when we are not by ourselves, when we are not alone. Especially when we feel that God is with us. Moses, the great national hero of the people of the Bible, the prophet of monotheism, assumed a huge task: to release his people from Egyptian slavery. He was haunted by fear and worry. Would he be able to fulfill such a great task? But his fear remained only until the I AM talked to him and he discovered that the powerful God was with him.

It is boring to walk alone, but if you go on your way talking with somebody the distance seems to be cut in half.

It is difficult to want something when you know that the others’ will is against your own. But your power is doubled when you know that there is somebody who wants the same thing as you.

His “Prayer in Spring” is also representative of the passion and poetry of which I am speaking, which comes even through the translation from Hungarian:

Sweet Father! Loving God! I am looking for you with childish happiness to tell you the praying confession of my heart. I want to tell You that I felt again Your closeness. I saw the smile of Your face and my heart trustfully opens to You and my mouth speaks from the fullness of my heart.
I saw the green trees and I caressed their leaves; I saw the dew drops shining in the sun; and when the vapors rise to the sky under the heat of the sun, I felt that the earth was praying and praising You.
Our children are healthy and careless happiness is celebrating in their eyes. A warm hand grasped my outstretched hand. I shook hands with a brother and I recognized in his word the humanity of my own.
Dear Father! I am happy to tell You all these, because I truly feel that You love me.
And now looking to You, I know that You have already known these about me. I feel that You have seen me the way I never can see myself.
Thank You for taking care of my life.
If I only could always feel Your closeness, to be always sure and not forget about Your presence, which--like the rays of Your blessed sun--reaches even the most hidden parts of the soul and gratefulness is born under its touch. How could my prayer fly to You so beautifully, like when under the kiss of the sun-rays mist floats over the green forests; how could my soul always produce the fruit of virtue, the way nature dresses in green in spring and happiness is celebrated in the eyes of the children; and in the warmth of my love I could always say: Blessed You are, God!
Amen.

Why is the Transylvania connection so important to me? Beyond the wonderful friendships we can make and the modest aid that we can provide, I think it is important because of what it can teach us about ourselves. There is much that our Transylvanian brothers and sisters can give us. As Unitarian Universalist minister Morris Hudgins writes,

1. They are models of courage.
2. They connect us with a past that we have often overlooked or forgotten.
3. They articulate a theology that is connected to both the 20th century and the 16th century.
4. They remind us that freedom is a precious right in every era and in every place.
5. They remind us that freedom is to be fought for and preserved. If we do not help others find freedom, we may someday have to fight for it ourselves.
6. We can also learn from the people of Transylvania how to live closer to nature and to take care of our environment. . . .
7. Finally, they link us with the people of Europe, our forefathers and mothers. As the world gets smaller and smaller we should not isolate ourselves from the other people of the world, but should look for the connections between us.

The Transylvania connection can draw us out of ourselves and re-inspire us, if we let it. It can provide us a way to use our many resources to help others who have less. And in a world where religious fundamentalism and dogmatism holds sway, it can help us to advance a different religious way, one based on the principles of freedom, reason, and tolerance.
There is a traditional Transylvanian affirmation that goes,

Where there is faith, there is love.
Where there is love, there is peace.
Where there is peace, there is blessing,
Where there is blessing, there is God.
Where God is, there is all we need.

I look forward to my return to the land beyond the forest as a way to deepen my own faith and religious practice. So may we all be touched by experiences which help us to grow in faith, hope, love, and understanding. May it ever be so. Amen.

The Rev. Harold E. Babcock

*Denes Jakab is the father of our Partner Church minister Zsolt Jakab