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By Dr. Bruce T. Marshall
June 6, 2010
Reading: A Lesson I Have Learned in the Ministry
So let me tell you of a lesson I have learned in the ministry:
I have learned not to take my position too seriously. Or my image
too seriously. Or myself too seriously.
I have learned that the most important item in the religious
community is the people of the religious community.
And I have learned that the real church can be defined as our most
intimate relationships.
How we smile and trust each other;
How we talk and touch each other;
How we share and protect each other;
How we welcome new friends and forgive old enemies;
How we love each other--in all the myriad ways that love can be
expressed.
That is the church!
David O. Rankin
Sermon:
It doesn’t seem so long ago that I began this series of occasional
sermons on basic religious questions and responses to these
questions offered in the liberal religious tradition. The first was
at the beginning of October and addressed the question, “Who am I?”
That was followed by “What do I trust?” “What do I believe about
God?” “What brings me hope?” and “How Do We Account for Evil?” This
morning we’ll come full circle: from “Who am I?” to “Who are We?”
That is, who are we as religious communities? What roles do
Unitarian Universalist congregations play in the larger society? And
what about us: Davies Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church? What
is unique and special about this congregation? Who are we and what
do we have to offer?
Throughout the years, I have offered classes in which I’ve asked
participants to reflect about this question—“Who are we?”—and write
about it. Here’s one response I received.
Of all the world’s round holes this square peg has ever tried to
adjust to, the Unitarian Universalist church is the only group I
ever found that gives me feelings of belonging, safety, and
acceptance. I need my church as a refuge.
I need it as a substitute family for mine has never been close, nor
has it offered the acceptance my church has.
I need the human contact it gives me, for I tend to forget about
others in my solitary pursuits. I need the opportunities it gives me
to be a social person, to contribute to a group effort at making
some higher effort succeed. I need the church because it gives me
the chance to educate some liberals about how human the physically
disabled are. I need to jar their consciousness for the disabled
they come into contact with.
I know the need is mutual, whether they know it or not.
Another statement on the topic of “Who are we?” This one is from a
Unitarian Universalist minister, Edward Harris, who at the time
served as minister of All Souls Unitarian Church in Indianapolis.
This church is not a place of right convictions, a fortress of truth
or even a bastion of philosophy. The church is a community of those
who have suffered loss, lived through it, and learned true
compassion. They have a sense of awe and mystery about this world
and this enterprise of living. Our church is where we hear music and
sing it ourselves, where we serve one another, where the strands of
our beliefs, our lives and hopes are WOVEN in a cable strong enough
to bear us across the valleys of pain, despair, grief, doubt, and
disillusionment. Each has experienced these, or will. We learn from
each other, and for those reasons we come to this special place,
infusing it with hope.
And one more:
As chair of the Sunday Program Center, I was introducing our keynote
speaker of the year (a professor at New York’s Union Theological
Seminary) to a standing-room-only Sunday service. Reading from a
carefully prepared and practiced text, I concluded with, “...it is
indeed a privilege to introduce to you our distinguished speaker
from the Union Theological Cemetery.”
Well, the congregation bust into laughter, and I was about to burst
into tears, when a dear friend jumped up from his nearby seat and
spontaneously gave me a big hug, and the laughter subsided into warm
applause.
I have often thought of that moment, as I’ve ventured into a myriad
of scary tasks and challenges in our Fellowship. I know now that if
I make a mistake, I will be supported and loved no matter how
terrible it seems and that only in taking risks and making mistakes,
can life-enriching growth occur.
● ● ●
In coming at this question, “Who are we?” let’s start with the big
picture: the Unitarian Universalist Association. Who are we as an
association of congregations? What do we stand for?
I’ll respond by stating the obvious—or, at least, what I think is
obvious. Today, the congregations of the Unitarian Universalist
Association represent the primary institutional expression of the
tradition of religious humanism. That is, an approach to religious
questions that starts with us—with people—and seeks to address these
questions from the perspective of the human experience.
Some congregations try to be God-centered, that is, their focus is
upon worship of God and seeking to do God’s will as they understand
it. Some churches claim to be Bible-based. Their focus is upon
understanding the Bible and how they believe it addresses the modern
world. Other congregations are centered around a creed, a set of
beliefs that have developed throughout the ages. Still others are
organized around a history and tradition that these congregations
carry forward into this era.
There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It is entirely appropriate
to be God-centered or Bible-based or centered around a creed or
around a tradition. But that’s not us. We are people centered. Our
starting point and point of reference is the human condition and our
efforts to address the pain and the possibilities of being human.
So when I prepare a sermon, I start by trying to identify a concern
that I think people in the congregation may share and then I address
that from a human perspective, that is, how we might experience this
concern in our lives. When I perform a memorial service, the most
important thing is to honor the individual we are remembering: who
this person was, what was important to him or her, how we want to
remember this individual. Or in a wedding, it needs to be personal.
A wedding should express the love and commitments of these
particular people. When we participate together in some activity of
the church—a class, a committee, a work project—part of what we’re
called to do is to make connections with each other, build community
among the participants. In each case, then, what we do is guided by
our concern with affirming each other and finding ways to address
the challenges and opportunities of our lives—which is what
religious humanism is about.
This does not mean that everyone in a Unitarian Universalist
congregation calls himself or herself a humanist. Some may consider
themselves theist, that is, they believe in God. Some may consider
themselves Christian or Jewish or Buddhist. Some may be pagan or
agnostic or atheist. People who hold these different beliefs can all
find a home in Unitarian Universalism because we are not organized
around beliefs. We are organized around our efforts to address the
human condition: these lives we so mysteriously find ourselves
living. Forrest Church put it this way. “Religion is our human
response to the dual reality of being alive and having to die.”
Religion is our human response to the conditions of life—the
conditions of life for all of us and those that are unique to each
person. Forrest continues,
So, whenever a trap door swings or the roof caves in, don’t ask
“Why?” Why will get you nowhere. The only question worth asking is
“Where do we go from here?” And part of the answer must be,
“together.” ... Together we walk, holding each another’s hands,
holding each another up. Together we do love’s work and thereby we
are saved.
That’s why we’re here as Unitarian Universalist congregations: to
respond to the pain and possibilities of being human, to offer
whatever care and help we can to each other as we make our way
through our lives in this world, together.
● ● ●
What about Davies? The over 1,000 congregations of the Unitarian
Universalist Association share a basic outlook and approach to
religious concerns. But each congregation is also unique; each has a
personality, its own gifts to offer. What is distinct about Davies?
When you tell your neighbors about us, what do you say? And as our
search committee begins the process of identifying a new settled
minister, how do they characterize us to potential candidates?
To help address those questions, we have a new mission statement,
passed two weeks ago at the annual congregational meeting. A mission
statement is, “A concise statement of what the congregation wants to
be known for, what we mean to the wider community—identifying our
key goals and priorities.”
Now here I must admit that I have a very specific learning
disability: I can never remember mission statements. I’ll hear one,
say, “Yeah—that’s right! Exactly it! Spot on!” And then in the next
minute, “Now, what was that again?”
I figure the only way to address this problem is by repetition. So
let’s talk about what’s unique about Davies—who we are—by drawing
upon the new mission statement as a point of reference. Here’s how
it goes.
Davies Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church is a multi-cultural
and welcoming congregation of loving persons which perpetuates the
vision of A. Powell Davies, and works to:
• encourage spiritual growth of adults and children;
• affirm individual dignity;
• explore truth and meaning in life;
• reach out to the community; and
• work toward a just and sustainable world.
Ok. I’m not going to ask you to repeat it. Instead, let’s break it
down into sections. The first: “Davies Memorial Unitarian
Universalist Church is a multi-cultural and welcoming congregation
...”
“Multi-cultural and welcoming.” What does that mean?
“Multi-cultural” means that diversity is a goal of this
congregation: who we seek to be. That means diversity of race, of
cultural background, of sexual orientation, of age, family
circumstances, of outlook. It means that we value what happens when
people who are different come together with the intention of
creating a community. That’s an essential part of who we are.
To me, what’s remarkable about Davies is not just the diversity of
this congregation; it’s also the apparent ease with which it occurs.
Here at Davies you have been able to sustain a racially and cultural
diverse congregation with such grace that it appears entirely
natural, even though that doesn’t happen very much in the rest of
the world.
How did this come to be? A simple answer is: I don’t know. If I knew
what the model was and could export it to other congregations—to
help them become more like Davies—then I would be in constant
demand, and people would hang on every word I had to say, and
someday they would name a speech after me at General Assembly
(that’s what UUs do). But since I don’t know, I’ll be fine just
appreciating it—recognizing our diversity here at Davies for the
special thing it is.
Our mission statement says that we are a multi-cultural and
welcoming congregation. What about the “welcoming” part? In the
context of the Unitarian Universalist Association, the term
“welcoming congregation” has a specific meaning. It refers to our
openness to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people and also a
process of consciousness raising that many congregations—including
this one—have participated in. That’s an important aspect to what
“welcoming” refers to.
There is also the wider meaning of welcoming. I gave a sermon about
this in January: a sermon called “Radical Hospitality.” The point
there was to approach the practice of welcome as a spiritual
discipline: an openness to each other, an openness to the strangers
we encounter, an openness to the stranger inside ourselves. Radical
hospitality—welcoming—calls for us to be attentive to the person in
front of us, to listen to the stories of each other’s lives, the
struggles, the good times, the bad ones. In so doing, we encounter
the spirit of this other person, his or her strengths and
passions—as well as our own.
Of course, our multiculturalism and our diversity and our welcoming
at Davies are not perfect. There is still plenty of work to do.
That’s why a mission statement doesn’t just state what is; it is an
expression of aspiration: “what the congregation wants to be known
for.” And so in the year ahead, I suggest that every committee,
every group within the church, regularly return to our mission and
ask: what are we doing to promote this aspiration, this ideal, this
expression of who we want to be? How might this particular group
promote the ideals of building a multi-cultural and welcoming
congregation? Worship. Membership. Music. Religious Education.
Operations. Building Use. Aesthetics. Endowment. Finance. Social
Justice. Environmental Concerns. Social Activities. The Board. Etc.
and so forth. That’s how a mission is realized—by living with it,
returning to it, drawing on it as a reference point and a definition
of aspiration. That’s how a mission is achieved.
● ● ●
So Davies Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church is a multi-cultural
and welcoming congregation of loving persons. A congregation of
loving persons. What’s that about?
I read it as an affirmation of Davies as a family. I’ve heard it
said many times—most recently in last Sunday’s Joys and Sorrows.
“This is my family.” Davies is a church that’s about being a family.
You can feel it when you walk into the door. Even newcomers notice
after one or two visits. This church has a strong sense of family.
Not every Unitarian Universalist church does, believe me. Some can
feel kind of cold; some can feel kind of desperate. And some simply
do not aspire to being a family because there are plusses and
minuses. The plusses are the sense of warmth, support, acceptance.
It’s the sense that everybody has a part; everybody is needed.
The minuses? Well, it can be too much. A family makes demands and
maybe we don’t have enough time and space in our lives. And a family
is limited in size. You can maintain that feeling of family only up
to a certain level of membership. After that, the nature of the
congregation changes. It becomes more program focused.
What’s that number for Davies? I would say 150 members. This church
can maintain the sense of family up to that point. Beyond that would
involve changing the personality of the church. That’s hard to do.
Today, our official count is something like 111, so there’s room to
grow. And our current membership is really too small for what the
church tries to offer.
So that’s another aspiration. Growing Davies to the point that it
can support the program the congregation appears to want—while also
maintaining the sense of family that makes this church so special.
● ● ●
Davies Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church is a multi-cultural
and welcoming congregation of loving persons which perpetuates the
vision of A. Powell Davies
When we began the mission/vision process, I didn’t know if the
relationship to A. Powell Davies and his legacy would survive. After
all, few people in this church today knew A. Powell Davies
personally, and despite his undeniable significance to Unitarian
Universalism in particular and liberalism in general, he is not well
known. But there he is in our mission statement. This reference
provides a nice link to our history. More importantly, the kind of
congregation Davies Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church seeks to
be is what A. Powell Davies envisioned.
The bullet points in the mission statement that follow the part
about perpetuating the vision of A. Powell Davies go on to make
specific what that vision contains. I think that everything in it
would be recognizable to A. Powell Davies. He envisioned churches,
in the words of the mission statement, that seek to:
• encourage spiritual growth of adults and children;
• affirm individual dignity;
• explore truth and meaning in life;
• reach out to the community; and
• work toward a just and sustainable world.
A. Powell Davies advocated an approach to religion and to life that
combined an acute social conscience with a feeling for people and
the struggles we encounter in everyday living. When I read what he
wrote, I find a deep human compassion as well as trust in what we
can do, together—to encourage spiritual growth, to affirm individual
dignity, to explore truth and meaning, to reach out to the
community, and to work toward a just and sustainable world.
As A. Powell Davies put it: “The world is now too dangerous for
anything but truth, too small for anything but brotherhood. Our
neighbor whom we must love as we love ourselves is anyone whatever
and everyone whatever throughout the world.”
● ● ●
So who are we? Why are we here?
Let me close with a story that tells of a moment—one small moment
that, to me, addresses those questions.
The occasion was a wedding at which I officiated: the marriage of a
Catholic man and a Jewish woman in a Unitarian Universalist
fellowship. The Catholics sat on one side; the Jews on the other.
Between the two ran the aisle.
Everybody seemed tense and out of place. They hadn’t been to a
wedding like this before; they didn’t know what was proper, how to
behave. The groom was sweating and shaking. The only vow he and his
bride had been able to agree upon was, “I do.” He had trouble
getting that out.
The end of the ceremony called for the Jewish tradition of the groom
breaking a glass. This was a concession to the bride’s side of the
family. The bride’s mother had said, “You can do anything you want
in your wedding, but I want a glass to be broken.”
Maybe you’ve been to a Jewish wedding in which that occurs. At the
end of the ceremony, the officiant—the rabbi or in this case the
Unitarian Universalist minister—hands the glass to the groom, the
glass carefully wrapped in a cloth napkin. Actually, it’s sometimes
not really a glass in there: it can be a light bulb. For one, a
light bulb is safer—avoids serious foot and ankle injuries that
sometimes occur with a glass, particularly a cheap one. But more to
the point, it makes for a better pop when it’s crushed.
So I took the light bulb wrapped in a cloth napkin, and handed it to
the groom. He was still sweating and shaking, and I don’t think he
had ever seen anybody do this before. He put the glass on the floor,
stomped on it, and it gave a mighty pop. For a moment he looked
surprised. Then nervousness melted, and his expression changed, and
he looked so pleased with himself.
The Jewish side of the aisle broke into laughter and then applause;
the Catholic side of the aisle joined in. The groom and his bride
basked in the approval that was being expressed. A boundary had been
broken along with the glass. In those few moments a Catholic-Jewish,
Jewish-Catholic congregation had been created. A marriage began.
That’s why we’re here: to make such moments possible. Those rare but
wonderful occasions when the barriers dividing us—the aisles that
separate one people from another—are crossed. And we can recognize
and celebrates the humanity that unites us all as creatures of this
earth.
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