a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Easter Sunday March 27, 2005
[extemporaneous introduction - Easter snowstorms and the 22nd Psalm]
Of course, one of the great things about having my mother here visiting me this past week is that it gave me a chance to think back about what Easter was like for me and my brothers when we were kids. As a lot of you know, I grew up attending Unitarian Universalist churches -- first at University Unitarian Church in Seattle (where I would eventually work for a year as an intern assistant minister), and then later at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Palo Alto California. But I don't really have that many specific memories of attending church at Easter -- just a few vague recollections about having to get a little extra dressed-up (which in my case meant a short-sleeved white shirt with a clip-on bow tie), and trying to get my cowlick to lie down; and also the delicate negotiations with my mother about how much candy we would be allowed to eat before leaving the house, and how well we would have to behave at church in order to be able to redeem our Easter Baskets when we got back home: a complicated incentive formula combining the threat of penalties and the promise of rewards, along with a few outright bribes, all of which were carefully calculated by her to produce the optimal appearance of youthful prayerfulness during that hour or so we were required to sit still in church. Of course, my brothers and I were even further motivated by the knowledge that if for some reason we DIDN'T get our Easter Baskets back right away, our Dad would quickly nibble them down to next to nothing, just like he did at Halloween, naturally beginning with the very best stuff. I'm not really sure what kind of life lessons I was supposed to learn from this experience, but I did manage to figure out how to sit still in church without wiggling around TOO much, and also (unfortunately) how to gobble down the entire contents of an Easter Basket so quickly that it made my tummy hurt.
My mom was kinda "old school" when it came to Easter baskets. Sure, there was always plenty of candy, but she also always insisted on boiling and coloring a dozen real eggs -- which, of course, none of us kids had any real use for -- and then for Easter Breakfast she would use them to make us something she called "Goldenrod Toast" -- which was basically hard-boiled egg whites in a creme sauce poured over white toast and then topped with the grated egg yokes. It was something we only ate once a year, and none of us really liked it, but we ate it anyway, just because it was something we always ate at Easter, just like my mom had eaten it when she was a little girl, and probably her mother before her.
And those are my childhood memories of Easter. Of course, now that I'm an adult (and a minister) I think of Easter very differently. Even in Unitarian Universalist congregations, Easter and Christmas Eve are the two "high holy days" which anchor the church year between the Sunday after Labor Day and Memorial Day weekend. It's a day when I can almost always count on a higher than usual attendance, which means of course that I always want a little better than usual sermon as well. Several years ago I wrote what many people (including a retired Methodist minister whose opinion I greatly respect) have told me is the best Easter sermon they have ever heard; and during the years that I worked as a visiting consultant I used to preach that same sermon every Easter in a different church (which is probably how it got to be so good). So when I arrived here in Carlisle to become the settled minister at FRS, I was very tempted just to continue this practice...until it dawned on me that for some you this may well be the only Sunday you attend church all year, and I would hate for you to come to think of my Easter Sermon the way that I remember my mom's Goldenrod Toast.
Writing and preaching a good Easter sermon is a difficult challenge for a Unitarian Universalist minister. Basically, there are two options. The first is the tried and true "Easter is a metaphor of Spring" sermon: an ancient, pagan celebration of the end of winter and the return of new life, which Christianity later adopted and adapted to its own purposes. And the second (which can also be used in combination with the first) is the slightly more sophisticated "Easter is not about the Resuscitation of a Corpse" sermon: that whatever else you may think, the miracle of the Resurrection is not (as Bishop John Shelby Spong once described it) "A conjuring trick with bones," but rather represents something else at once far more mysterious, more subtle, and more spiritual.
The consequences of knowing (or not knowing) the real difference between resuscitation and resurrection -- between the revival of an unconscious (or even apparently dead) physical body, and "Something Else" -- can be seen in a couple of situation that are prominently in the news just now. I hope this doesn't come as a shock to anyone, but Pope John Paul the Second is on his last legs, and approaching the end of his life. No one can be certain how much longer he may live: it may be weeks, or months...or it may just be a matter of days...but I personally think it would be highly unlikely for him to survive to see another Easter. I could be wrong of course, since I'm not a Doctor...(or at least not that kind of Doctor). But what is most interesting to me is the way that the Pope is reacting to his situation. Obviously, he's been receiving excellent medical care (including some fairly invasive procedures, like a tracheotomy), but more importantly (at least according to his Vatican spokesman, since he apparently can no longer speak for himself) Pope John Paul is dealing spiritually with his failing health by "serenely abandoning himself to the Will of God."
Serenely Abandoning Himself to the Will of God. Contrast that attitude to the controversy that has been swirling around the fate of poor Terri Schiavo. I certainly feel a great deal of personal sympathy for Terri's parents Bob and Mary Schindler, and also for her husband Michael, and for all the people who know and care about her and who have had to live with her tragic situation for the past 15 years. And I certainly don't want to contribute further to any of the stereotypes or gross generalizations and outright misrepresentations that have been circulating around this case in recent days. (And if any of you still have doubts about the actual facts of this situation, I would encourage you to look at the report of Terri's independent Guardian Ad Litem, which is easily found on the net). People obviously have very strong opinions about some of the profound moral and ethical issues evoked by her situation: opinions which can easily distort one's views and understanding of the medical facts (which are frankly at this point both clear and well-established). Yet ultimately this is not just a question of the "medical facts" -- it's about a religious world view which has confused the nominal survival of a physical body with the ultimate transcendence of the human soul, and which is therefore fundamentally incapable of serenely abandoning itself to the Will of God. Instead, it continues "to seek the living among the dead," in effect worshiping the flesh rather than the spirit, and thus (in my interpretation at least) committing the sin of Idolatry in the bargain.
This next part is really a topic for a whole other sermon( and I'll probably get around to preaching it someday), but I never really understood what Christian faith (and Easter in particular) was really all about until I studied a little Buddhism. And it all had to do with this notion of "serenely abandoning" oneself to the "Will of God," and what that really means. In the second chapter of Paul's letter to the Phillipians, Paul quotes the words of an earlier Christian hymn, a text which represents perhaps one of the oldest independent expressions of the beliefs of the very first Christians. The passage goes like this:
"Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
Who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death --
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exhalted him
and gave him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
It's this notion of a God who "empties" himself and becomes a slave, who embraces humility and obedience even to the point of a painful death on a cross, that is so unusual. It's not about power and glory and being exhalted -- the kind of things you might expect from a Diety. Rather, it is only by abandoning one's attachment to those things (along with the desire for them) that human beings acquire the capacity to become more "godly" themselves.
And it all starts with Humility, which is both the most important and the most difficult virtue to master. It's difficult because there is such a thin line between true Humility and the experience of humiliation, an experience which often leads to marginalization rather than eventual exhaltation. Both words share the same root -- humus or "dirt." A common source of humiliation is some form of scandal (another lovely Greek word which means "to stumble")...we trip ourselves up and end up eating dirt, and afterwards we feel humiliated. But we humble ourselves when we recognize that "from dust we have come and to dust we shall return;" when we ground ourselves in a profound appreciation of the limitations, the fragility, and the contingency of our lives.
And this realization that we ALL sometimes stumble becomes the foundation for the rest of our spiritual formation. From Humility we learn Gratitude, and develop our capacity for Empathy and Compassion -- an ability to listen without fear and to feel the pain of others, along with the courage to be present and vulnerable to their affliction. We develop a sense of Tolerance for diversity, and an authentic appreciation for those who are different from ourselves; as well as the capacity for Forgiveness -- which is again a difficult virtue to practice, and sometimes an even more difficult gift to accept.
Eventually the three so-called traditional "Theological Virtues" take root in this fertile ground -- Faith, Hope, and "Charitas" (which can be translated either as "Love" or "Charity"): the ability to Trust what we cannot see, along with a patient Optimism that can sustain us in the presence of the unknown, and a Generous Affection for our fellow creatures...in which the ACT of Generosity often both precedes and cultivates the Attitude.
And then finally, Liberation...the fruit of all these other virtues. Freedom, liberty, the experience of being "released:" released from bondage; released from sin; released from the tyranny of our ambition and our enslavement to the demands of our appetites; from the prison of our physical bodies; from our attachment to the material things of the world, things which (in the Buddhist terminology) "come into being and pass away;" released from our obsessive need to be in control of every little detail of our own lives, and the lives of those around us.
This is the real "miracle" of Easter...not the promise of physical resuscitation, but the spiritual power of serenely abandoning the things that don't really matter in order to embrace humility and obedience and all of the good things that grow from that simple act of letting go. And in that act of emptying ourselves, we open ourselves to the possibility of being filled with the Spirit of God, of being exhalted and glorified and lifted up before all the world -- not for our own sake, but as an example and an inspiration for all who might see and do likewise. And in that moment of Liberation, all our suffering, and all our sacrifices, suddenly become profoundly meaningful, and we become "at one" with something Greater than ourselves. This is the miraculous Resurrection we witness on Easter Morning: when New Life comes once more into the world in all its power, and makes all things new again.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Sunday, March 20, 2005
THE MEANING OF MEMBERSHIP
a homily by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
delivered at the First Religious Society in Carlisle Massachusetts
Palm Sunday, March 20th, 2005
It sure seems like there's an awful lot going on around here this weekend, not the least of which is that today is officially the first day of Spring. According to the Royal Naval Observatory in Greenwich, England, the Vernal Equinox was at 7:36 this morning (our time), which means that this past winter is now finally and forever history, and as far as I'm concerned not a moment too soon. I read the other day that the average annual winter snowfall here in "the Neighborhood of Boston" is about 42 inches. This year, we've had more than twice that amount -- and in some places, significantly more: about 86 inches at Logan Airport, but over 107 inches just south of here, in Needham. I don't exactly know what the total amount was right here in Carlisle, and I'm not really sure I want to know either. Having grown up in Seattle (where the average annual snowfall is only about 8.6 inches), it's all felt a little overwhelming...and although I've certainly appreciated the novelty of it all, I'm really looking forward to something different, even if it is just a lot of mud.
Of course, this weekend also marks the opening round of this year's "Big Dance." The NCAA basketball tournament is one of my favorite sporting events of the year, especially when my own Alma Mater (the University of Washington) is a Number One seed, and has already advanced to the Sweet Sixteen. Naturally, I was also hoping to see Boston College go a little deeper into the tournament, and I still have my fingers crossed for the University of Vermont to be wearing the Cinderella slipper. But on another level, it really doesn't matter to me who wins or who loses, because the game itself is such a beautiful thing to see, and it always gives me such joy just to watch these kids play, and to witness the thrill they feel at being part of a real team.
And then I suppose I would somehow be remiss if I didn't also mention [again] that today is Palm Sunday -- which marks the end of the season of Lent, and the beginning of Holy Week. This is a very dramatic time in the traditional Christian liturgical calendar. The week begins with Jesus's triumphant arrival at Jerusalem -- he chases the moneychangers out of the temple, and teaches openly in the streets of the city -- confounding the lawyers and the high priests, all the while relying on the presence of large crowds to defy the local authorities and playing cat and mouse with the temple guards. And then one night, after a week of this highly subversive activity, he is betrayed by one of his own and arrested, tried by a secret tribunal, turned over to the soldiers of the occupying foreign military power, who in turn proceeded to torture him for awhile and then publicly executed him as an example to other would-be religious insurgents. Not such an unfamiliar story, really. But then, just a few days later, something miraculous happened that people are still talking about. I can't really explain it all, and I won't even try. But I will say this: they may be able to kill the teacher, but they can't kill the teachings or destroy the spirit that gives them life. That ought to be a lesson to tyrants everywhere, as well as an inspiration to those who resist them.
And then finally, this is also our New Member Recognition Sunday -- the day that we formally welcome as members of this community the people who have chosen to sign our membership book and affiliate with this congregation over the past twelve months. Because I'm the minister (and therefore supposed to know these things), I'm often the one who people come to when they want to know what it means to become a member of this church. And because the decision to join this church (or any church) is such a personal thing, I always have to respond by saying that becoming a member of the First Religious Society means different things to different people. And likewise, although the physical act of joining this church is a very simple thing (literally, all you have to do is sign your name), becoming (or maybe I should say BEING) a member of FRS can mean as much or as little as you choose to make it mean. If you look in the dictionary, you will see that a "member" is simply a part of a body. And just as no two body parts are exactly alike, no two members of this church are exactly alike either. We all have our own strengths and skills and interests; and we all have different areas and levels of involvement at any given time. There is really only one element that I can say is common for everyone, and that is the more of yourself you put into your experience here, the more likely you are to get something truly worthwhile out of it. And that is true of everything in life, from family and career to working out at the gym, or being part of a winning team.
And yet there are also certain things that we do, as a body, which create a shared context for membership here. The Meaning of Membership in many ways is simply an amalgam of all these other little "ships" which serve as the vessels of our common life together.
The first two of these are Worship and Fellowship. I mention them together because they are best understood when you see them in relationship, like the love of God and the love of neighbor. Worship is the time we set aside to ponder the "big picture" -- to allow our spirits to enjoy a "sabbath" from our worldly concerns, as we contemplate the deeper meanings that give our lives purpose. And Fellowship is the celebration of our connection to one another, and the recognition of our mutual interdependence in which both our sense of dependence and our desire for independence find their appropriate compliments. This hour and a half on Sunday morning is the center of our life together, and all of the benefits of being a member here flow from this simple act of just showing up
But in addition to these two (dare I say?) Fundamental activities of Worship and Fellowship, there are three other basic manifestations of Membership which help structure the framework of our life together.
And the first of these is Discipleship. We've all heard the word disciple, I'm sure, more often than not I would suspect in the context of a phrase like "the disciples of Jesus." One of the reasons that many Christian churches like to acknowledge new members on Palm Sunday is related to this -- it has to do with the invitation Jesus made to his disciples to "pick up your cross and follow me." But disciples are not so much "followers" as they are students or "learners." Discipleship is about cultivating the discipline to follow, not a person, but a path. I know many of you have heard this from me before, and if you stick around for very long you will probably here me say it again and again. Discipleship is about committing one's self to a path of personal spiritual growth and religious learning, and then faithfully sticking with it long enough to get "results" -- a process which you will quickly discover is basically a life-long commitment.
The next of these things is Stewardship. Stewardship, unfortunately, is often understood simply as a euphemism for participating in the fund drive, but it's really much more sophisticated than that. The Church is an institution which we inherit from our spiritual ancestors, and which we hold in trust for our spiritual descendants. And I'm not just talking about a historical building and some real estate either -- I'm talking about a heritage of public service, along with some specific traditions and values which define our church as a community of faith, and give it a personality and identity. This is not a static thing: it's something which changes and develops and evolves over time in response to the conditions of the wider world. Good Stewards are faithful custodians of that legacy, as well as cultivators of its growth. Naturally, this process involves paying the current bills, as well as maintaining and preserving the legacy of the past, and maybe even setting aside a little something for the future as well. Good Stewards are Caretakers -- they care for the church and the people in it, so that we might continue to serve our Neighbors and Fellow Creatures faithfully and meaningfully for a long, long time.
This brings us to the last of these specific areas, which is Leadership. Leadership is about seeing opportunities for doing good work in the world, and then sharing that vision in such a way that we are able to bring others together to help achieve it...together. Becoming a member of a church is not just about joining an organization...it's about becoming a leader of that organization, by participating in the process which guides it forward through the world. On its most basic level, leadership is about living life in such a way that your good example becomes an inspiration to others. It's easy to forget sometimes how much our own behavior can influence the behavior of those around us. When we "do unto others" was we would have others do unto us, we are acting as leaders, as well as witnesses, to our faith.
If I were to try to summarize everything that I know about this topic in just a few words, I would have to say that the true meaning of Membership is ultimately about creating Friendships. But not just any kind of friendships; rather, a very specific kind of friendship which insists that we honestly examine and explore our experiences as human beings, and try to get in touch with that part of ourselves that lives deep within us...our spirits, our souls... and then relate to one another authentically on that level. It's a friendship based on empathy and compassion, a shared appreciation for a common set of values, along with a passionate desire to work together to make the world a better place for us all.
So, Worship and Fellowship; Discipleship, Stewardship, and Leadership; Authentic Friendship. These are the activities that make Membership meaningful here at the First Religious Society in Carlisle. And today we want to welcome and formally acknowledge all of the people who have made the decision to officially affiliate with this congregation -- to join OUR team -- in the past twelve months....
[Ceremony of Recognition of New Members]
delivered at the First Religious Society in Carlisle Massachusetts
Palm Sunday, March 20th, 2005
It sure seems like there's an awful lot going on around here this weekend, not the least of which is that today is officially the first day of Spring. According to the Royal Naval Observatory in Greenwich, England, the Vernal Equinox was at 7:36 this morning (our time), which means that this past winter is now finally and forever history, and as far as I'm concerned not a moment too soon. I read the other day that the average annual winter snowfall here in "the Neighborhood of Boston" is about 42 inches. This year, we've had more than twice that amount -- and in some places, significantly more: about 86 inches at Logan Airport, but over 107 inches just south of here, in Needham. I don't exactly know what the total amount was right here in Carlisle, and I'm not really sure I want to know either. Having grown up in Seattle (where the average annual snowfall is only about 8.6 inches), it's all felt a little overwhelming...and although I've certainly appreciated the novelty of it all, I'm really looking forward to something different, even if it is just a lot of mud.
Of course, this weekend also marks the opening round of this year's "Big Dance." The NCAA basketball tournament is one of my favorite sporting events of the year, especially when my own Alma Mater (the University of Washington) is a Number One seed, and has already advanced to the Sweet Sixteen. Naturally, I was also hoping to see Boston College go a little deeper into the tournament, and I still have my fingers crossed for the University of Vermont to be wearing the Cinderella slipper. But on another level, it really doesn't matter to me who wins or who loses, because the game itself is such a beautiful thing to see, and it always gives me such joy just to watch these kids play, and to witness the thrill they feel at being part of a real team.
And then I suppose I would somehow be remiss if I didn't also mention [again] that today is Palm Sunday -- which marks the end of the season of Lent, and the beginning of Holy Week. This is a very dramatic time in the traditional Christian liturgical calendar. The week begins with Jesus's triumphant arrival at Jerusalem -- he chases the moneychangers out of the temple, and teaches openly in the streets of the city -- confounding the lawyers and the high priests, all the while relying on the presence of large crowds to defy the local authorities and playing cat and mouse with the temple guards. And then one night, after a week of this highly subversive activity, he is betrayed by one of his own and arrested, tried by a secret tribunal, turned over to the soldiers of the occupying foreign military power, who in turn proceeded to torture him for awhile and then publicly executed him as an example to other would-be religious insurgents. Not such an unfamiliar story, really. But then, just a few days later, something miraculous happened that people are still talking about. I can't really explain it all, and I won't even try. But I will say this: they may be able to kill the teacher, but they can't kill the teachings or destroy the spirit that gives them life. That ought to be a lesson to tyrants everywhere, as well as an inspiration to those who resist them.
And then finally, this is also our New Member Recognition Sunday -- the day that we formally welcome as members of this community the people who have chosen to sign our membership book and affiliate with this congregation over the past twelve months. Because I'm the minister (and therefore supposed to know these things), I'm often the one who people come to when they want to know what it means to become a member of this church. And because the decision to join this church (or any church) is such a personal thing, I always have to respond by saying that becoming a member of the First Religious Society means different things to different people. And likewise, although the physical act of joining this church is a very simple thing (literally, all you have to do is sign your name), becoming (or maybe I should say BEING) a member of FRS can mean as much or as little as you choose to make it mean. If you look in the dictionary, you will see that a "member" is simply a part of a body. And just as no two body parts are exactly alike, no two members of this church are exactly alike either. We all have our own strengths and skills and interests; and we all have different areas and levels of involvement at any given time. There is really only one element that I can say is common for everyone, and that is the more of yourself you put into your experience here, the more likely you are to get something truly worthwhile out of it. And that is true of everything in life, from family and career to working out at the gym, or being part of a winning team.
And yet there are also certain things that we do, as a body, which create a shared context for membership here. The Meaning of Membership in many ways is simply an amalgam of all these other little "ships" which serve as the vessels of our common life together.
The first two of these are Worship and Fellowship. I mention them together because they are best understood when you see them in relationship, like the love of God and the love of neighbor. Worship is the time we set aside to ponder the "big picture" -- to allow our spirits to enjoy a "sabbath" from our worldly concerns, as we contemplate the deeper meanings that give our lives purpose. And Fellowship is the celebration of our connection to one another, and the recognition of our mutual interdependence in which both our sense of dependence and our desire for independence find their appropriate compliments. This hour and a half on Sunday morning is the center of our life together, and all of the benefits of being a member here flow from this simple act of just showing up
But in addition to these two (dare I say?) Fundamental activities of Worship and Fellowship, there are three other basic manifestations of Membership which help structure the framework of our life together.
And the first of these is Discipleship. We've all heard the word disciple, I'm sure, more often than not I would suspect in the context of a phrase like "the disciples of Jesus." One of the reasons that many Christian churches like to acknowledge new members on Palm Sunday is related to this -- it has to do with the invitation Jesus made to his disciples to "pick up your cross and follow me." But disciples are not so much "followers" as they are students or "learners." Discipleship is about cultivating the discipline to follow, not a person, but a path. I know many of you have heard this from me before, and if you stick around for very long you will probably here me say it again and again. Discipleship is about committing one's self to a path of personal spiritual growth and religious learning, and then faithfully sticking with it long enough to get "results" -- a process which you will quickly discover is basically a life-long commitment.
The next of these things is Stewardship. Stewardship, unfortunately, is often understood simply as a euphemism for participating in the fund drive, but it's really much more sophisticated than that. The Church is an institution which we inherit from our spiritual ancestors, and which we hold in trust for our spiritual descendants. And I'm not just talking about a historical building and some real estate either -- I'm talking about a heritage of public service, along with some specific traditions and values which define our church as a community of faith, and give it a personality and identity. This is not a static thing: it's something which changes and develops and evolves over time in response to the conditions of the wider world. Good Stewards are faithful custodians of that legacy, as well as cultivators of its growth. Naturally, this process involves paying the current bills, as well as maintaining and preserving the legacy of the past, and maybe even setting aside a little something for the future as well. Good Stewards are Caretakers -- they care for the church and the people in it, so that we might continue to serve our Neighbors and Fellow Creatures faithfully and meaningfully for a long, long time.
This brings us to the last of these specific areas, which is Leadership. Leadership is about seeing opportunities for doing good work in the world, and then sharing that vision in such a way that we are able to bring others together to help achieve it...together. Becoming a member of a church is not just about joining an organization...it's about becoming a leader of that organization, by participating in the process which guides it forward through the world. On its most basic level, leadership is about living life in such a way that your good example becomes an inspiration to others. It's easy to forget sometimes how much our own behavior can influence the behavior of those around us. When we "do unto others" was we would have others do unto us, we are acting as leaders, as well as witnesses, to our faith.
If I were to try to summarize everything that I know about this topic in just a few words, I would have to say that the true meaning of Membership is ultimately about creating Friendships. But not just any kind of friendships; rather, a very specific kind of friendship which insists that we honestly examine and explore our experiences as human beings, and try to get in touch with that part of ourselves that lives deep within us...our spirits, our souls... and then relate to one another authentically on that level. It's a friendship based on empathy and compassion, a shared appreciation for a common set of values, along with a passionate desire to work together to make the world a better place for us all.
So, Worship and Fellowship; Discipleship, Stewardship, and Leadership; Authentic Friendship. These are the activities that make Membership meaningful here at the First Religious Society in Carlisle. And today we want to welcome and formally acknowledge all of the people who have made the decision to officially affiliate with this congregation -- to join OUR team -- in the past twelve months....
[Ceremony of Recognition of New Members]
Sunday, March 6, 2005
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE "WELCOMING?"
a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday March 6th, 2005
Opening Words:
He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in.
-- Edwin Markham
When I was fifteen years old and a sophomore in High School, my father gave me a book that he guaranteed would change my life forever. Since he was my father, naturally I was a little skeptical; but also since he was my father, I took the book anyway, and actually even read it, and wouldn't you know if it didn't turn out that he was right. The book was...does anybody want to take a guess at what the book was? The book was Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People, and although I'm sure there's plenty about this book that I've forgotten over the years, (and probably plenty more that has simply become part of my personality), the one thing I remember best is Carnegie's simple observation that if you want people to be interested in you and listen to what you say, you need to become genuinely interested in other people. It was the word "genuine" in particular that stuck with me. You can't just fake it; it's got to be real, and authentic. (Which is actually a lot easier than it might sound, even if you are basically kind of a shy, introverted bookworm like myself, since people are also the most genuinely interesting thing on the planet.) Become genuinely interested in other people. Smile when you see them, and call them by name, listen to what they have to say and try to see and talk about things from their perspective, let them know that they're important, and give them a good reputation to live up to rather than automatically being suspicious of their motives or assuming the worst. That's what my father wanted me to know about human relationships when I was fifteen years old. And it really did change my life.
Some years later (although not nearly so soon as I probably should have) I learned another important lesson about understanding and communicating with other people when you DON'T see eye to eye, and when no one is too likely to change their mind anytime soon either. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Try not to BE mean when you say it. It is possible to disagree without being disagreeable; just as it is possible to agree on some things and disagree about others, and still move forward with the former without letting the latter hold you back. Not every difference of opinion is a difference in principle, while at least agreeing on the eventual goal or destination is often the first step in determining the next step of the journey.
And once again, honesty, authenticity, and genuine respect are the keys. It is difficult to reach an agreement with someone who is truly disingenuous, just as it is difficult to reach an agreement with someone you ASSUME is disingenuous right from the get-go, without taking the time to understand their point of view. Simply building trust through honest efforts at mutual understanding often precedes even the most basic attempts to resolve the more substantive conflicts of our lives.
Developing systems of mutual accountability, or even just a shared commitment to working toward mutually acceptable solutions, are other methods for creating agreement in the face of disagreement, and bringing people together from different perspectives in order to address a shared concern. But even so, as we all already know, it isn't always possible for everyone to get their own way all the time. Sometimes we have to give up a little of what we want in order to give others a little of what they want. And sometimes not even compromise is enough to bridge the places where there is no real common ground, and no real likelihood of discovering any no matter how long one explores.
But this isn't the situation here at FRS. One thing that's been puzzling me for about a year now is why this church, which seems to do so many things so well so easily, has struggled so hard over the decision to declare itself a Welcoming Congregation. Is it just that we don't really trust one another very much? Or that we don't care about what one another think, or that we can't find any common ground or commit to a mutually acceptable solution? I know I've only been here a relatively short time, but that just doesn't make sense to me. It just doesn't add up with everything else I know about you. In fact, it seems like just about everyone I talk to seems to have pretty much the same idea about what they want FRS to be like. Based on what you tell me (and I realize that people don't always tell their minister EVERYTHING that they're thinking), you want this church to be a place where people truly do feel welcome, just as they are, whoever they are...and where no one is labeled, or feels like they have to keep secrets in order to be accepted, and everyone's privacy and integrity are respected.
That's the vision, which is so widespread I'm tempted to say that it's universal. The disagreements are all about how best to get there. Some of you think that we're that way already, while others of you know (often through painful personal experience) that we're not quite there yet. Some of you want a very precise and specific Welcoming Statement, while others of you prefer something more simple and general, and still others (like myself) don't see why we can't have one of each. (That's how I got this [tummy], by asking for "one of each....") Nobody seems too enthusiastic about buying and flying a Rainbow flag, not even a small, discrete one for down by the side door, so if that's what you've been worried about you can probably relax now, since I'm pretty certain that it's never going to happen. In fact, it seems to me that a lot of the tension around this whole Welcoming Congregation issue is not so much concerned with the question of inclusivity as it is uncertainty about what comes next, or even the need for any change at all.
Even liberal churches like this one are by nature fairly conservative institutions. The church is a spiritual community which makes its home in the world of myth and ritual, and which intentionally identifies itself with a heritage and traditions that extend back hundreds or even thousands of years. Churches are most comfortable with the familiar, just as it is our familiarity with the traditions and rituals of the church that often gives us the most comfort in times of stress or crisis. Which is basically just another way of saying that change does not come easily to most church communities, since their natural reaction is to respond to the challenges of a changing future by looking deep within, to that part of the tradition which seems most grounded in the eternal. And this is exactly as it should be, provided we are willing to take and apply those timeless spiritual truths to new and changing situations, rather than simply attempting to resist change by escaping into our memories of the past.
The inclusion of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered individuals in our society (I'm not talking about the First Religious Society now, but society at large)...is one of those changes which almost seems to demand a religious response. Some denominations -- not just the Unitarian Universalist Association, but also the United Church of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, the Society of Friends, Reformed Judaism, the American Baptists, the Episcopalians, the Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Lutherans, and even the Roman Catholics, have all been wrestling with this issue over the past few decades, and all of them have taken positive steps toward becoming more "open and affirming" to their GLBT members, as well as more supportive and protective of their legal and civil rights in the secular world. Some of them have obviously taken bigger steps than others, but all of them seem to be moving in the same direction. And there are other denominations...I won't bother to mention their names...who still insist that homosexuality is either a sin, or a disease, or both; and who act on that belief by excluding GLBT folk from their congregations, and often (it seems) by trying as hard as they can to make life as difficult for them other ways as well.
But you don't need me to explain to you how this all works. You've all doubtlessly had plenty of opportunities to see it with your own eyes. What I'm most concerned about is what happens here in THIS community -- about what we can do, as people of faith, to become part of the solution rather part of the problem, and to express our deeply-held convictions about the timeless truth of the inherent worth and dignity of every person in a way that honors both our own integrity and the integrity of those around us. So it doesn't really matter so much to me what kind of Welcoming Statement we come up with, so long as it's one that we can all live with, and which accurately reflects the way that we feel. And likewise, I'm much less concerned about what's going to happen at the meeting this afternoon as I am about what happens tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that, as we attempt to live up to the values and the principles we have chosen to affirm.
The other night at the Circle of Mutual Understanding, I was very gratified to listen to the collective wisdom of the members of this congregation, as about thirty of us sat in relationship with one another and shared our views and feelings on this subject. We already know a lot about what it means to be Welcoming, and we also know that we all still have a lot to learn. We understand, almost intuitively, that this issue is not so much about how we may or may not feel about the lifestyles of those we welcome, as it is about ourselves, and our ability to show hospitality to strangers, and to "become genuinely interested in other people." We all have neighbors, relatives, teachers, colleagues, and countless casual acquaintances who are gay; we care about them, perhaps even are a little worried about them...and over the years we have learned, and are continuing to learn, to smile when we see them and to call them by name; to listen to what they have to say, and to try to see and understand things from their point of view; to let them know that we think their lives are important, and that we want them to be our friends.
And this is what it means to be Welcoming. It's not about the politics, or some sort of activist agenda, although for some of us at some point it could become that, just as many of us are already actively concerned about all sorts of social and political issues. But that's all going to happen anyway, regardless of the vote this afternoon. It's not even really about making some sort of public statement, although certainly it never hurts to state publicly what we believe. Mostly it's just about making the commitment to practice what we preach, to live up to the ideals of our covenant, and to support one another in our efforts to become the kind of wise, compassionate, generous and spiritually mature beings we aspire to be.
The challenge of becoming truly "Welcoming" is the challenge of being true to ourselves. It's about becoming genuine -- an authentic community, true to our principles, honest in our purposes, respectful of the integrity of every human being, and genuinely interested in other people And I know it isn't always going to be easy, and I know we aren't going to get it perfect every time. But it's worth the effort...not only for what it means to others, but for what it meas to ourselves.
Pray with me now, won't you?
[concluding extemporaneous prayer]
********************
READING:
WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY
--Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass [1860, 1867]
WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been
receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a
happy night for me that follow'd,
And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were
accomplish'd, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect
health, refresh'd, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of
autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and
disappear in the morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing
bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun
rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his
way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food
nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at
evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly
continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed
to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same
cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was
inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast — and that night I
was happy.
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday March 6th, 2005
Opening Words:
He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in.
-- Edwin Markham
When I was fifteen years old and a sophomore in High School, my father gave me a book that he guaranteed would change my life forever. Since he was my father, naturally I was a little skeptical; but also since he was my father, I took the book anyway, and actually even read it, and wouldn't you know if it didn't turn out that he was right. The book was...does anybody want to take a guess at what the book was? The book was Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People, and although I'm sure there's plenty about this book that I've forgotten over the years, (and probably plenty more that has simply become part of my personality), the one thing I remember best is Carnegie's simple observation that if you want people to be interested in you and listen to what you say, you need to become genuinely interested in other people. It was the word "genuine" in particular that stuck with me. You can't just fake it; it's got to be real, and authentic. (Which is actually a lot easier than it might sound, even if you are basically kind of a shy, introverted bookworm like myself, since people are also the most genuinely interesting thing on the planet.) Become genuinely interested in other people. Smile when you see them, and call them by name, listen to what they have to say and try to see and talk about things from their perspective, let them know that they're important, and give them a good reputation to live up to rather than automatically being suspicious of their motives or assuming the worst. That's what my father wanted me to know about human relationships when I was fifteen years old. And it really did change my life.
Some years later (although not nearly so soon as I probably should have) I learned another important lesson about understanding and communicating with other people when you DON'T see eye to eye, and when no one is too likely to change their mind anytime soon either. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Try not to BE mean when you say it. It is possible to disagree without being disagreeable; just as it is possible to agree on some things and disagree about others, and still move forward with the former without letting the latter hold you back. Not every difference of opinion is a difference in principle, while at least agreeing on the eventual goal or destination is often the first step in determining the next step of the journey.
And once again, honesty, authenticity, and genuine respect are the keys. It is difficult to reach an agreement with someone who is truly disingenuous, just as it is difficult to reach an agreement with someone you ASSUME is disingenuous right from the get-go, without taking the time to understand their point of view. Simply building trust through honest efforts at mutual understanding often precedes even the most basic attempts to resolve the more substantive conflicts of our lives.
Developing systems of mutual accountability, or even just a shared commitment to working toward mutually acceptable solutions, are other methods for creating agreement in the face of disagreement, and bringing people together from different perspectives in order to address a shared concern. But even so, as we all already know, it isn't always possible for everyone to get their own way all the time. Sometimes we have to give up a little of what we want in order to give others a little of what they want. And sometimes not even compromise is enough to bridge the places where there is no real common ground, and no real likelihood of discovering any no matter how long one explores.
But this isn't the situation here at FRS. One thing that's been puzzling me for about a year now is why this church, which seems to do so many things so well so easily, has struggled so hard over the decision to declare itself a Welcoming Congregation. Is it just that we don't really trust one another very much? Or that we don't care about what one another think, or that we can't find any common ground or commit to a mutually acceptable solution? I know I've only been here a relatively short time, but that just doesn't make sense to me. It just doesn't add up with everything else I know about you. In fact, it seems like just about everyone I talk to seems to have pretty much the same idea about what they want FRS to be like. Based on what you tell me (and I realize that people don't always tell their minister EVERYTHING that they're thinking), you want this church to be a place where people truly do feel welcome, just as they are, whoever they are...and where no one is labeled, or feels like they have to keep secrets in order to be accepted, and everyone's privacy and integrity are respected.
That's the vision, which is so widespread I'm tempted to say that it's universal. The disagreements are all about how best to get there. Some of you think that we're that way already, while others of you know (often through painful personal experience) that we're not quite there yet. Some of you want a very precise and specific Welcoming Statement, while others of you prefer something more simple and general, and still others (like myself) don't see why we can't have one of each. (That's how I got this [tummy], by asking for "one of each....") Nobody seems too enthusiastic about buying and flying a Rainbow flag, not even a small, discrete one for down by the side door, so if that's what you've been worried about you can probably relax now, since I'm pretty certain that it's never going to happen. In fact, it seems to me that a lot of the tension around this whole Welcoming Congregation issue is not so much concerned with the question of inclusivity as it is uncertainty about what comes next, or even the need for any change at all.
Even liberal churches like this one are by nature fairly conservative institutions. The church is a spiritual community which makes its home in the world of myth and ritual, and which intentionally identifies itself with a heritage and traditions that extend back hundreds or even thousands of years. Churches are most comfortable with the familiar, just as it is our familiarity with the traditions and rituals of the church that often gives us the most comfort in times of stress or crisis. Which is basically just another way of saying that change does not come easily to most church communities, since their natural reaction is to respond to the challenges of a changing future by looking deep within, to that part of the tradition which seems most grounded in the eternal. And this is exactly as it should be, provided we are willing to take and apply those timeless spiritual truths to new and changing situations, rather than simply attempting to resist change by escaping into our memories of the past.
The inclusion of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered individuals in our society (I'm not talking about the First Religious Society now, but society at large)...is one of those changes which almost seems to demand a religious response. Some denominations -- not just the Unitarian Universalist Association, but also the United Church of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, the Society of Friends, Reformed Judaism, the American Baptists, the Episcopalians, the Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Lutherans, and even the Roman Catholics, have all been wrestling with this issue over the past few decades, and all of them have taken positive steps toward becoming more "open and affirming" to their GLBT members, as well as more supportive and protective of their legal and civil rights in the secular world. Some of them have obviously taken bigger steps than others, but all of them seem to be moving in the same direction. And there are other denominations...I won't bother to mention their names...who still insist that homosexuality is either a sin, or a disease, or both; and who act on that belief by excluding GLBT folk from their congregations, and often (it seems) by trying as hard as they can to make life as difficult for them other ways as well.
But you don't need me to explain to you how this all works. You've all doubtlessly had plenty of opportunities to see it with your own eyes. What I'm most concerned about is what happens here in THIS community -- about what we can do, as people of faith, to become part of the solution rather part of the problem, and to express our deeply-held convictions about the timeless truth of the inherent worth and dignity of every person in a way that honors both our own integrity and the integrity of those around us. So it doesn't really matter so much to me what kind of Welcoming Statement we come up with, so long as it's one that we can all live with, and which accurately reflects the way that we feel. And likewise, I'm much less concerned about what's going to happen at the meeting this afternoon as I am about what happens tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that, as we attempt to live up to the values and the principles we have chosen to affirm.
The other night at the Circle of Mutual Understanding, I was very gratified to listen to the collective wisdom of the members of this congregation, as about thirty of us sat in relationship with one another and shared our views and feelings on this subject. We already know a lot about what it means to be Welcoming, and we also know that we all still have a lot to learn. We understand, almost intuitively, that this issue is not so much about how we may or may not feel about the lifestyles of those we welcome, as it is about ourselves, and our ability to show hospitality to strangers, and to "become genuinely interested in other people." We all have neighbors, relatives, teachers, colleagues, and countless casual acquaintances who are gay; we care about them, perhaps even are a little worried about them...and over the years we have learned, and are continuing to learn, to smile when we see them and to call them by name; to listen to what they have to say, and to try to see and understand things from their point of view; to let them know that we think their lives are important, and that we want them to be our friends.
And this is what it means to be Welcoming. It's not about the politics, or some sort of activist agenda, although for some of us at some point it could become that, just as many of us are already actively concerned about all sorts of social and political issues. But that's all going to happen anyway, regardless of the vote this afternoon. It's not even really about making some sort of public statement, although certainly it never hurts to state publicly what we believe. Mostly it's just about making the commitment to practice what we preach, to live up to the ideals of our covenant, and to support one another in our efforts to become the kind of wise, compassionate, generous and spiritually mature beings we aspire to be.
The challenge of becoming truly "Welcoming" is the challenge of being true to ourselves. It's about becoming genuine -- an authentic community, true to our principles, honest in our purposes, respectful of the integrity of every human being, and genuinely interested in other people And I know it isn't always going to be easy, and I know we aren't going to get it perfect every time. But it's worth the effort...not only for what it means to others, but for what it meas to ourselves.
Pray with me now, won't you?
[concluding extemporaneous prayer]
********************
READING:
WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY
--Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass [1860, 1867]
WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been
receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a
happy night for me that follow'd,
And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were
accomplish'd, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect
health, refresh'd, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of
autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and
disappear in the morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing
bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun
rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his
way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food
nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at
evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly
continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed
to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same
cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was
inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast — and that night I
was happy.
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