The Interfaith Union for Progressive Religion

Faith, in Modernity

The Interfaith Union for Progressive Religion ("IU"), founded in 2005 by philosopher and religious thinker Rev. Dr. David E. McClean, is dedicated to linking people and organizations of different faith traditions interested in expanding and rethinking the meaning of religious commitment, spirituality, faith, love, peace and justice in the modern world. Although its roots are in the liberal Christian tradition, the IU is committed to two ideas: the possibility and power of transcendence and the vocabularies of transcendence, and the possibility and power of radical love. The IU  invites to membership all serious and thoughtful people and organizations who or that have heeded the call to a reasoned yet passionate faith and devotion to God, by the various names and concepts by which God may be understood (The Great Spirit, Yahweh, Allah, the Tao, Jehovah), and who are interested in becoming connected to like-minded people and organizations. The IU is also dedicated to the pursuit of justice and the enhancement of human flourishing across the globe.

Click here  for David's biography and statement of beliefs. Click here for the IU Introductory Video. Religious services are held at the IU's Peachtree Chapel, located in Hempstead, NY. For service information, please see above.

In the Spotlight

On What is Called "Interfaith" - A Minister's Message (Click Here)

Sudan's President Charged with Genocide (Finally!)  (Click Here)

Barack Obama's Faith Based Plan (Click Here)

Goods of Conscience (Click Here)

The Need for a Third Option in Iraq, by David E. McClean  (Click Here)

Ending the Occupation in Palestine for a Lasting Peace for Palestinians, Israelis and Americans (Click Here) (Commentary)

The IU Global Warming Initiative
View Trailer to An Inconvenient Truth (Click Here)



Featured Poem 

Velocity
by Billy Collins (Former Poet Laureate of the United States)
(from his book of poems, Nine Horses)

In the club car that morning I had my notebook
open on my lap and my pen uncapped,
looking every inch the writer
right down to the little writer’s frown on my face,
but there was nothing to write
about except life and death
and the low warning sound of the train whistle.
I did not want to write about the scenery
that was flashing past, cows spread over a pasture,
hay rolled up meticulously —
things you see once and will never see again.
But I kept my pen moving by drawing
over and over again
the face of a motorcyclist in profile —
for no reason I can think of —
a biker with sunglasses and a weak chin,
leaning forward, helmetless,
his long thin hair trailing behind him in the wind.
I also drew many lines to indicate speed,
to show the air becoming visible
as it broke over the biker’s face
the way it was breaking over the face
of the locomotive that was pulling me
toward Omaha and whatever lay beyond Omaha
for me and all the other stops to make
before the time would arrive to stop for good.
We must always look at things
from the point of view of eternity,
the college theologians used to insist,
from which, I imagine, we would all
appear to have speed lines trailing behind us
as we rush along the road of the world,
as we rush down the long tunnel of time —
the biker, of course, drunk on the wind,
but also the man reading by a fire,
speed lines coming off his shoulders and his book,
and the woman standing on a beach
studying the curve of horizon,
even the child asleep on a summer night,
speed lines flying from the posters of her bed,
from the white tips of the pillowcases,
and from the edges of her perfectly motionless body.