What Would Martin Say?

Good morning and thank you for inviting me to be a part of your Dr. Martin Luther King Sunday. My husband Joe and I bring you greetings from the UU Congregation at Montclair, NJ, where your member Terry Last has dual citizenship.

I had not been a member of a congregation of any denomination for well over 40 years when I signed the book at UU Montclair. What moved me to join was the congregation responded to the backlash against Muslims after the September 11 attacks. As a group, we visited a nearby Muslim Center that had received death threats. And we continued the dialogue over potluck dinners and meetings for several months thereafter.

Brother Martin said: In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends. Martin Luther King has been a part of my life for almost 60 years and so when Judy [Bonner, chair, 1stUUPB Justice Action Ministry] asked for a title of my talk today, I answered “ What Would Martin Say?”

Not only because it is MLK Sunday, but also because it is a question I have been thinking about since Black Lives Matter emerged. The origins of the BLM movement are so different than that of the civil rights era of Dr. King that one could conclude that they contradict each other. Just compare the deeply religious Christian base of Dr. King with a movement that was started by three Lesbian women of color and has no prominent national leader or spokesperson.

But the movements have more in common than outward appearances reflect. Martin was a radical leader who understood the significance of confrontation and used the media to shine a light on injustices. He would have been out there supporting the young leaders of BLM and urging them to keep the movement non-violent.

Dr. King’s call to action emboldened Black people to stand up for their rights in a regime that had enslaved and terrorized Black people for over 300 years. Their courage and determination stirred the conscience of the entire country and some progress was made.

Now, almost 60 years later, the BLM call to conscience is forcing white people to stop ignoring the reign of terror that is afflicting people of color across the country. We have to say that Black lives matter, because
- we are living in a society where the public  school system is preparing poor children of color for prison and not for college.
- we are living in a society where people who are mentally ill or drug addicted are imprisoned and not treated.
- we are living in a society where serving time in prison no longer means that you have paid your debt to society. A criminal record condemns you to a lifetime of disenfranchisement and economic disaster.
It is in fact The New Jim Crow.

These injustices are happening in our name because they are public policies and practices paid for with our tax dollars.

Dr. King said: Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and when they fail in that purpose, they become the dangerously, structured dams that block the flow of social progress.
So fellow and sister UU’s, I invoke the spirit of Dr. King to encourage those who have already taken up the mantle of BLM to keep on keeping on…

For those of you who have succumbed to the rubric that “ All Lives Matter”, I urge you to remember who is suffering; who is being senselessly killed daily??

This systematic slaughter of young people of color at the hands of law enforcement is white supremacy on the rampage. There is an unwritten law that they will not be held accountable and so it continues….

Very close to home you have had two very accomplished young African- American men gunned down by local law enforcement under extremely questionable circumstances. The killing of Jermaine McBean in Broward County almost 3 years ago and the more recent killing of Cory Jones just a few months ago in our own county have both gained national attention.  They have gained national attention because the BLM movement refused to let the reign of terror continue without protest and a demand for justice.

At the recent UU General Assembly, antiracism  activist Chris Crass challenged UUs:
 
The question for us as UUs is not how many people of color we can get into our pews; it’s how much damage can we do to white supremacy.

So what CAN we do? Here are a few ideas to start:

- Stand in solidarity with BLM and others who call for justice. We must be persistent if these families are ever to see justice for the loss of their children.
- Write letters; make phone calls, blog, tweet.
- Start conversations on BLM to educate and motivate your friends and family members to join you.
- In New Jersey we are using our statewide legislative network to promote bills that would help to end mass incarceration and that would also hold law enforcement more accountable. I would be happy to talk about legislation at our discussion hour after the service.

On this weekend when we remember Martin with speeches and parades, let us also remember him with service and action. Martin said: Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering and struggle and the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.
That is what BLM is about. Let us work to be in that number.

Amen. Amen. Amen


What Would Martin Say ?, a sermon delivered by Rebecca Doggett at 1stUUPB on Jan 17, 2015.
Mrs. Doggett is chair of the Undoing Racism Committee, UU Congregation at Montclair, NJ.

Democratizing the Pulpit

On Christmas Eve Richard and I sometimes visit a Catholic church.  We were both raised Catholic and the bells and smells -- as they say -- around the holidays are comforting.  There was one Christmas Eve that we both wish we hadn’t.  We arrived and thought it was funny that the women all had veils on their heads and that we couldn’t understand a word that the choir was singing or what the priest was saying.  We realized we had stumbled into a Latin mass.  What could we do?  We started planning our escape immediately.  We both agreed that at the time of the offertory the congregation might be distracted enough that we could make a run for it.  And so we did.

I later realized that in order for that worship service to happen none of us in the pews needed to be there.  The priest who ignored us the whole time and who was speaking in such a low voice we couldn’t hear the liturgy — it was in Latin anyway.  The choir sang the hymns.  We didn’t even need to offer our voices.

In the National Catholic Review, Priest Peter Schineller writes, “During the celebration I felt very uncomfortable. It was strange and foreign. Even though I was very familiar with the Tridentine Mass from my childhood, it seemed remote and distant. The Mass seemed to focus on the priest whose words for the most part could not be heard and who rarely faced the people. The choir performed well and their singing overrode the priest, who had to wait several times until they finished singing. In my mind I could not but think back to the Second Vatican Council, and all that the Council and subsequent documents tried to bring about – active participation, emphasis on the important things, vernacular, elimination of repetitions, etc. It was sad and disheartening. What happened? Why would the Catholic faithful seek out and attend this older form of the Mass? After the Mass, I was tempted to talk with some of those present. But I decided not to as I feared I would have been negative and perhaps controversial. My feelings were still very raw. One thing I know: I myself will never freely choose to celebrate the Tridentine Mass.”

In our own tradition, Unitarian Universalism, we have had similar reactions to worship.  Because Unitarianism was an intellectual movement you received a sermon that was more like a lecture and people were happy, and in the 1960’s humanism became the dominant theology of Unitarian Universalism.

But that's changing.  More and more people that come to our congregations want to celebrate, be moved, be challenged and connect with their personal theology and have an experience of the heart and spirit.  I know this because I meet with most of them and they all ask me how they will find spirituality here.  I say, lectures are held at the Palm Beach County Library on Tuesdays at 11 o’clock.  Here we arrive for sustenance for our hearts and our minds.  We prepare one another for another week outside our sanctuary through spiritual practice, trusting people and sharing the joys and sorrows deep within us, we are transformed.  This is not a Sunday adult program.  It’s a place to reflect on life, to be vulnerable, and to examine our call to our free faith.  That’s a big change for how Sundays in Unitarian Universalist churches were used decades ago.

Another change that is happening in our services is how the minister and the congregation connect on Sunday mornings.  In our tradition we have what is called the free pulpit. The minister is expected to express his/her values, views, and commitments without fear or favor. It's not a polite courtesy congregations offer their clergy -- not a legal nicety.  It's an obligation — and I take it as a spiritual and a moral obligation — that comes with the call to minister to a Unitarian Universalist congregation. Expressing my values, views and commitments is not something I can do if I feel like it. It’s something I must do regardless of how I feel about it.

I confess I am not aware of the historical literature that directly addresses and explains the origins and development of the free pulpit tradition. I’ve been researching it over the past few weeks and I don’t see a lot written on it (which doesn’t mean it’s not there, just that my research hasn’t been successful). There are volumes and volumes written about freedom of and in religion. There are volumes written about the free church tradition. But the term “free pulpit” doesn’t show up in the indexes of the Unitarian and Universalist histories I’ve examined. It’s possible that it has evolved primarily as a contractual understanding between ministers and congregations, and hence it doesn’t get much play in the histories.

In efforts to explain the free pulpit tradition, one often-quoted document is the Transylvanian King John Sigismund’s 1568 “Act of Religious Tolerance and Freedom of Conscience,” an important precursor to the free pulpit in America. “In every place,” the Act explains, “the preachers shall preach and explain the Gospel, each according to his understanding of it, and if the congregation like it, well, if not, no one shall compel them for their souls would not be satisfied.”

Another often-quoted free pulpit reference is from the conclusion of Theodore Parker’s 1841 sermon, “The Transient and the Permanent in Christianity.” That sermon is one of the most famous of American Unitarian preaching. He delivered it at the ordination of the Rev. Charles Shackford. His comment on the free pulpit came at the end of the sermon when he spoke to the congregation about how to relate to its new minister. He said truth “speaks in a thousand tongues, and with a pen graves her sentence on the rock forever. You may prevent the freedom of speech in this pulpit if you will. You may hire your servants to preach as you bid; to spare your vices and flatter your follies; to prophecy smooth things, and say, It is peace, when there is no peace. Yet in so doing you weaken and enthrall yourselves …. But, on the other hand, you may encourage your brother to tell you the truth …. You will then have his best words, his brightest thoughts, and his most hearty prayers.”

In both quotes we see a turning away from a centralized and hierarchical reliance on doctrine and dogma, a turning away from the authority of the church over the individual, a turning away from complacency in thought and spirituality, and a turning towards freedom, towards conscience, towards integrity, towards the individual’s search. We see a recognition that “Truth speaks in a thousand tongues” and a desire to honor the truth as each tongue proclaims it.

Unitarian Universalists are not the only ones who lay claim to the free pulpit tradition. Baptists have their version of it. So do the Congregational churches.  I do not remember ever having such a clause in any of my church calls, although it was always understood that I was free to preach on whatever I chose.  While Unitarian Universalists are not the only bearers of the free pulpit tradition, it is nevertheless rare in the broad sweep of American religion. In a blog entitled Nagoonberry, a former Presbyterian minister named Heather, who is now seeking fellowship as a Unitarian Universalist minister, wrote these words about the free pulpit:

“The free pulpit is a long-standing tradition within Unitarian Universalism, in that we allow our ministers to speak their minds rather than be restricted by a particular tenet or creed. As I look back on my time as a Presbyterian minister, I do remember that there were limits on my freedom as a preacher.  There were things one simply did not say.  A preacher who consistently strayed beyond the borders of orthodoxy might find herself in a bit of trouble -- or a lot of trouble.”

Unitarian Universalist ministers are moving even further.  They are democratizing their pulpits.  Something I’ve been studying for a while now. Democratizing the pulpit is daring to poll the members of a congregation about issues that matter to them versus the minister solely choosing the topics preached in the pulpit.  Getting the perspective of those in the seats opposite the pulpit, what are the moral issues of the time?  What are congregants struggling with publicly and personally.  When democratizing the pulpit the concerns of the people can be used to brush off the liturgical dust and cleanse the sanctuary of spectators and fill the seats with stakeholders.  In Unitarian Universalism there is no higher authority than the gathered members.  So democratizing the pulpit means that you will have a hand in what is preached from this pulpit.

In just a few minutes I will ask you for suggestions for sermon topics. I wonder what you will write?  What are the moral, political and personal issues you want to hear sermonized?  Another area to democratize is the board room, ever increasing the views from the congregation solicited by the board in order to close up a gap. There is a movement for boards of Unitarian Universalist congregations to ask the congregation more questions about who they want to be.

Democratizing the pulpit not only invites people to help choose the sermon topics but also invites them to participate in co-creating services.  By democratizing the pulpit ultimately congregants change roles.  The congregation moves from spectators to liturgical stakeholders.  I believe that ministry does not only come from the minister.  Each of us has the potential to minister and develop personal ministries in this congregation.  Likewise I believe that the minister is not the only one who understands what we need to hear from the pulpit.  So today I invite you to live our shared ministry.  I invite you to become stakeholders of our liturgy. I’ve heard many times, “I wish CJ would talk about this.”  Here is your moment.  

Democratizing the Pulpit, a sermon delivered by the Rev CJ McGregor at 1stUUPB, Jan 10, 2016.





 

The Truth Will Set You Free

John Chapter 8 verse 32: “Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.”  This quote has been used for various purposes in our past and present.  Over the past four centuries it has been used most in academia.  It’s common to find an academic institution with a version of the quote over its doors or in its mission, as academia believes knowledge as truth will set you free. 

In John Chapter 8 verse 32 we are promised a spiritual freedom.  A release from the life of unrighteousness.  This idea can easily be translated into Unitarian Universalist speak.  But I have a couple of questions, questions we will be focusing on this morning.

One, How do we know what the truth is when the truth changes and is subjective? and two, what are we being released from when we hold the supposed truth?

Rather than John, I prefer the philosophy of Gloria Steinem.  She writes, “The truth will set you free, but first it pisses you off.”  More about that in a minute.

I returned to an article in the December 2010 New Yorker that I had flagged long ago knowing I would use it sometime. The article titled, The Truth Wears Off, asks if there is something wrong with the scientific method.  It seems we can no longer trust what we thought to be true.  The article reminds us how difficult it is to prove anything.  The columnist Jonah Lehrer writes, “We like to pretend that our experiments define the truth for us, but that’s often not the case.  Just because an idea is true does not mean it can be proven, and just because an idea is proven does not mean it is truth.”  Let me say that again, “Just because an idea is true does not mean it can be proven, and just because an idea is proven does not mean it is truth.”  He continues, “When the experiments are done we still have to choose what to believe.”

What happens when what we believe is truth can no longer be replicated?  Here is a good example from the article:
“Jonathan Schooler was a young graduate student at the University of Washington in the nineteen-eighties when he discovered a surprising new fact about language and memory. At the time, it was widely believed that the act of describing our memories improved them. But, in a series of clever experiments, Schooler demonstrated that subjects shown a face and asked to describe it were much less likely to recognize the face when shown it later than those who had simply looked at it. Schooler called the phenomenon “verbal overshadowing.” 

The study turned him into an academic star. Since its initial publication in 1990, it has been cited more than 400 times. Before long, Schooler had extended the model to a variety of other tasks, such as remembering the taste of a wine, identifying the best strawberry jam, and solving difficult creative puzzles. In each instance, asking people to put their perceptions into words led to dramatic decreases in performance.

But while Schooler was publishing those results in highly reputable journals, a secret worry gnawed at him: it was proving difficult to replicate his earlier findings. “I’d often still see an effect, but the effect just wouldn’t be as strong. It was as if verbal overshadowing, my big new idea, was getting weaker.” At first, he assumed that he’d made an error in experimental design or a statistical miscalculation. But he couldn’t find anything wrong with his research. He then concluded that his initial batch of research subjects must have been unusually susceptible to verbal overshadowing. “It wasn’t a very satisfying explanation,” Schooler says. “One of my mentors told me that my real mistake was trying to replicate my work. He told me doing that was just setting myself up for disappointment.”

Such anomalies demonstrate the slipperiness of empiricism. Although many scientific ideas generate conflicting results and suffer from falling effect sizes, they continue to get cited in the textbooks and drive standard medical practice. Why? Because the ideas seem true. Because they make sense. Because we can’t bear to let them go. And that is why what is called the decline effect is so troubling. Not because it reveals the human fallibility of science, in which data are tweaked and beliefs shape perceptions. And not because it reveals that many of our most exciting theories are fleeting fads and will soon be rejected.

The decline effect is troubling because it reminds us how difficult it is to prove anything. We like to pretend that our experiments define the truth for us. But that’s often not the case. "Just because an idea is true doesn’t mean it can be proved. And just because an idea can be proved doesn’t mean it’s true. When the experiments are done, we still have to choose what to believe.”
 
And so the truth is subjective, can be wrong, and changing or fluid.  With this in mind let’s move on to ourselves.  Remember what Gloria Steinham said?  Richard told me of a recent film where the robot in the film explained that it was programmed to not tell people the truth.  What does this say about us?  The truth may set us free but first it makes us miserable. 

You may remember a film from the 1990’s called A Few Good Men with Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson.  There is a naval court scene where Tom Cruise is an officer interrogating Jack Nicholson.  Nicholson is not that forthcoming with the truth and Cruise says, “I want the truth!”  Nicholson replies, “You can’t handle the truth!”  That is the truth.  We can’t handle the truth,  I’ve shared with many of you that denial is a lovely place to visit.  Denial serves its purpose but we can’t live there.  It will surely deplete and destroy us.

What happens when the truth we craft about ourselves or our world can no longer be replicated?  There is a quote attributed to the Talmud, “We don’t see the world as it is.  We see the world as we are.” Psychologist William Berry tells us that this quote “summarizes the idea that truth that one perceives is illusory and inexact.”

We have long been taught to seek the truth, but what if there is no absolute truth. What, then, are we chasing?  What if the correct truth hurts us?  What if there are degrees of truth that we tell ourselves, which isn’t absolute truth and may fall into the category of lies?  

Berry writes, “Meaning is created in life. Neutral events are made subjective by interpreting them through the lens of perception. 'Truth' is merely a product of perceptions; perceptions are colored by experience, which is then filtered through the current state of mind and altered even further. By the time the neutral event is processed in this manner, it is little more truth than fiction. Yet personal truth is accepted wholeheartedly.”

We are often not only wrong about the truth, we are unaware of the truth.  When we become aware we are the creator of the truth and the story. How do you write yourself into your story?  In my creation of my truth, my story I am 22 years old, thinner, stronger, and the rest.   When I become aware of my truth through minor health episodes, reminders that my locks were lost down the drain ages ago, and my metabolism is lethargic, I am miserable and you know, I sometimes can’t handle the truth.  I like being unaware of my truth when writing my own story.  Who wouldn’t?  But, it’s illusory, changing, and not real. 

As the creator of my truth I am not free.  Being set free from our subjective truth will detach us, set us free, of suffering.  Now, if you are willing to suspend your truth for a moment, and to even momentarily accept that much of what you believe may only be your version of the truth; or that what you believe is not the absolute truth, you may wonder how this is helpful to your state of mind. Despite an initially discouraging reaction to finding you are not as in touch with truth as you had believed, the benefit to this understanding is substantial.

Becoming aware we are the creators of the story, fashioning the meaning of events that construct the meaning of life, can thereby help reframe thinking. The ability to step back from thinking, to actually think about the thought process, is a cornerstone of cognitive therapy. In cognitive therapy clients are taught to step back from their thinking, evaluate it objectively, determine if it is possible thinking is distorted, and challenge the distortions. Finally, they are to reframe the event in a more rational and productive manner. The ability to be neutral and objective can be of great benefit in finding or producing happiness.

That ability is also a cornerstone of Buddhism. In Buddhism one works at being objective, at being detached from events in life. In understanding you are creating the meaning of events, and in practicing the ability to step back from your “truth,” one is closer to a detached, and objective, position. According to Buddhism, this is a path to enlightenment, and perhaps, even before becoming enlightened, to happiness.

Once the awareness that meaning is generated from within grows, the ability to challenge thinking and create a more profitable meaning is available. That allows us to design more happiness in our lives, or to at least eliminate some of our sorrow.

That is not to say we should lie to ourselves, nor is it a call to lie to others. Honesty is essential in evaluating one’s beliefs. It is also essential in dealing with others, especially those considered close. In overcoming self-hate, the Dalai Lama discusses how when one has honest and compassionate motivation, even failure should not affect one's self worth. It requires the ability to honestly evaluate one’s motives, and to be honest with others.

Detachment and the challenging and reframing of thoughts and meaning are meant to procure a happier existence for all, and to allow for less conflict in one’s life. It is not a panacea. It takes great effort to detach from one’s beliefs and thoughts, challenge them, reframe them, and develop new, healthier beliefs. But with practice, which begins with an awareness of one’s thoughts as well as an understanding that meaning is applied to events, not inherent in them, one can achieve a happier, more peaceful life.

Let us be aware.  Let us see the truth and understand its changing nature.  Let us set ourselves free and release ourselves from self-induced suffering of not knowing or being able to handle the truth.  Let us understand that truth evolves and evolve with it.  May it be so.

The Truth Will Set You Free, a sermon delivered by the Rev CJ McGregor at 1stUUPB, Jan 3, 2016.

'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again

It’s the last Sunday of 2015.  Are you wondering, like me, where the year went?  It seems like we’ve just gotten used to writing 2015, and I don’t know about you, but I know it’s going to take me weeks before I stop writing the wrong year.  But I know some people are ready to move on.  They are tired of the holidays, they’re thinking that all they really wanted for Christmas was for Mariah Carey to stop singing, they’ve taken down their decorations, if they had any up in the first place, and they are already looking past New Year’s to our next big national celebration, Super Bowl Sunday.

This is a time of year when people often talk about endings and beginnings.  It’s the end of one year, the beginning of the next, at least for those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar.  But not all cultures do this, there are other New Year’s observances, so our New Year’s celebration can be considered an arbitrary beginning, an arbitrary end.  So I’m not going to talk about endings and beginnings.  I prefer to focus on two ideas, or activities if you will that are prevalent through the holidays, reflection and anticipation.

I think it’s natural to start reflecting on the past year and even farther back during the holidays.  It’s a time we traditionally gather with family and friends, and there is a lot of storytelling that goes on.  My mother used to roll her eyes as my dad started to tell the same stories about his childhood or about his army experiences during World War II that he told pretty much every year at either Thanksgiving or Christmas or both.  It’s not unusual for sentences at holiday gatherings to begin, “remember when…,” to be followed by a description of some memorable event.  It might be some memorable life event, for instance, the first time you celebrated the holidays together as a couple, or it may be an occasion that lives in family lore for other reasons, such as what is known in our household as the great Thanksgiving turkey brine disaster, the title of which I think is self-explanatory.  Let’s just say that I haven’t tried to brine a turkey since.

Holidays are all about those memories and stories, whether they are our family stories or those of our traditions, be it jars of oil or shepherds and angels.  And I loved what Rev. Janet Onnie told us about stories a few weeks ago: stories don’t need to have happened to be true.  They are part of our memories, and one of the most important parts of the holidays, at least to my mind, is making new memories.  But sometimes we are so caught up in the trappings of the holidays, decorating so the house looks like something on a Pinterest board, choosing the perfect gift, or cooking that perfect turkey.  We have to remember that the personal is more important than the perfect, because the personal is what is going to make the memory.

So to me, the holiday season can also be called reflection season, and it starts around Thanksgiving, as we start to consider the things we’re thankful for.  Those feelings of gratitude carry through the new year.  And this attitude of reflection and gratitude is healthy for us and those around us.  I’m reminded of a saying — and I don’t know its source — “it is not happy people who are thankful; it is thankful people who are happy.”  I find myself at this time of year being grateful for little things.  Now, most of you know that I’m a musician, specifically a singer, and though I don’t own one, I’ve seen a t-shirt that says “75% of my brain capacity is wasted on song lyrics.”  I’m not sure I agree with the wasted part of that, but 75% sounds about right, or maybe even on the low side.  But it’s true that I have a song lyric for every occasion, and I am always reminded at this time of year of a song written by Teresa Jennings, a wonderful songwriter who specializes in music for primary schools.  The song is called “Grateful for the Little Things,” and it lists lots of things that kids, and grownups, too, might grateful for, such as puppies, seashells, laughter, and family.  It’s the last line that puts it all in perspective:  “It’s the little things that matter most, they’re really not that small.  In fact, they’re the greatest of all.”  I think that’s the perfect attitude for our reflection and gratitude this time of year.  And it’s certainly a time when we should consider and be grateful for the gifts, large and small, that others have brought into our lives, and the lessons we have learned from one another.  To quote another of my favorite songs, “because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”  Personally, this year I’m grateful for the friend who suggested we come here and for the members and friends of this Congregation who welcomed and encouraged Ken and me on our new journey as Unitarian Universalists.

Hand in hand with reflection goes anticipation.  Although anticipation is something we experience year round, it increases with the holiday season.  We anticipate the arrival of family or travel to be with family.  We anticipate the fellowship of sharing a wonderful meal.  The child in us anticipates the gifts under the Christmas tree.  The adult in us anticipates the pleasure that our gifts to others will bring. 

As we look to the new year, we anticipate what the future will bring.  Author Caroline Kepnes calls anticipation an invitation into the future.  It may be looking forward to little things: appointments on our calendar for the next few weeks, or it may be life-changing events — moving into a new home, the birth of a child or grandchild.

How do we view the future? It’s a pertinent question.  One view is that expressed by British comedian and actor Russell Brand, who writes, “people don’t seem to realize that the future is just like now, but in a little while, so they say they’re going to do things in anticipation of some kind of seismic shift in their worldview that never actually materializes.  Tomorrow is not some mythical kingdom where you’ll grow butterfly wings and be able to talk to animals — you’ll basically feel pretty much the same way you do at the moment.”  While I agree with Brand that the world isn’t going to change at 12:01am on January 1st, I think it’s important to be more optimistic than that.  Why can’t we look forward to not just personal happiness, but a better, more caring world?  We may not, as the reading suggests, be able to ring out the old and ring in the new, and would we really want to sweep away everything?  As Carly Simon’s song says, “we may never know the things to come,” but if we anticipate a better world, if we do more than just hope for the best, but resolve to do our parts, large and small, then we have a chance of achieving that brighter future, of ringing out the dark and ringing in the light.

For all our talk of beginnings and endings, so much of our lives, like the years, is circular.  This week I’ve been reminiscing about last Christmas, and the differences between then and now.  As we get older, the years run faster, and the next holiday season is too soon upon us. And, as usual for me, there’s a song that expresses it much better than I can, so I’d like to share this song that speaks to the ideas of reminiscences, anticipation, and that circle of life.  May we love and laugh in the time that we have, ‘til the season comes ‘round again.
 'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again, a sermon delivered by Lynn Pernezny at 1stUUPB, Dec 27, 2015.

[The sermon ends with Lynn singing 'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again (lyrics below)]

Come and gather around at the table
In the spirit of family and friends
And we'll all join hands and remember this moment
'Til the season comes 'round again.

Let's all try to smile for the picture
And we'll hold it as long as we can
May it carry us through
Should we ever get lonely
'Til the season comes 'round again.

One night holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire
Let's left our heads high
And be thankful we're here
'Til this time next year.

May the new year be blessed
With good tidings
'Til the next time I see you again
If we must say goodbye
Let the spirit go with you
'Til the season comes 'round again.

One night holy and bright
Shining with love from our hearts
By a warm fire
Let's left our heads high
And be thankful we're here
'Til this time next year.

May the new year be blessed
With good tidings
Till the next time I see you again
If we must say goodbye
Let the spirit go with you
And we'll love and we'll laugh
In the time that we had
'Til the season comes 'round again

Songwriters: JARVIS, JOHN BARLOW / GOODRUM, RANDY
'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, ROUND HILL MUSIC

Big Strange Family

Brian Andreas is an artist who creates what he calls "Story People” – oddly shaped colorful humanoids who have something to say about nearly everything.  One of the Story People says:  “'I don’t think of working for world peace'”, he said.  'I think of it as just trying to get along in a really big strange family.'”

One of the reasons people like Andreas’ story people is that they break down what seem to be insurmountable tasks into manageable challenges.  World Peace, especially these days, seems an impossible goal.  My personal experience -- and maybe yours, too -- of maintaining something as simple as spending three days with your family at Thanksgiving is also fraught with landmines. Come to think of it, so is congregational life.

But our Sixth Principle affirms and promotes “The goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all.”   So as Unitarian Universalists we are called to keep working toward this goal, even though it often feels like being asked to believe in miracles.

Miracles are the reason for this season. Two of our sources – Judaism and Christianity – celebrate miracles during December.  And the earth-centered traditions emphasize the movement from darkness to light, a movement that in ancient times seemed miraculous.  These miracle stories didn’t happen on the global stage.  They happened in small kinship groups:  Family groups that may seem a little strange to other family or kinship groups. 

The Jewish sage, Martin Buber, wrote a parable about the modern world and the place of kinship. He said:
At the beginning of the modern world, at the time of the American and French revolutions, three ideals were said to walk hand in hand; liberty, equality, and what was then called ‘fraternity.’  Today we might call the last, more inclusively, the spirit of kinship.
In the course of revolutionary upheaval, however, the ideals separated.  Liberty went West, to America first of all.  But it changed its character along the way.  It became confused with mere freedom from restraint, freedom to exploit the land the exploit others.  Equality did not extend to Native Americans, African slaves. And women. 
Meanwhile, Equality went East.  Through more revolutions in Russia and China, however, it too changed character, and not for the better.  It because the equality of the gulag, of millions of people all waving the same “little Red Book.” 
The third element went into hiding.  Kinship, the sense that we are all sisters and brothers together, children of one great Mystery, was the linking ideal, the religious principle.  Yet modern intellectuals and revolutionaries scorned religion, so this idea took to hiding among communities of the powerless, where a sense of connectedness and kinship stronger than Western individualism, deeper than Eastern collectivism, survived.
The ideals behind the modern experiment cannot be fulfilled without the reemergence, in nonexclusive forms, of the religious spirit of kinship.  Early in the twentieth century, many people thought that religion would simply wither away.  This religious spirit has reappeared, however, in every powerful attempt to reunite the separated:  in efforts like those of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in the West, to reunite to our vaunted liberties some equality, at least of opportunity; in Poland’s Solidarity movement, which began the effort to restore to socialist equality some degree of spiritual liberty.

The ideals behind the modern experiment cannot be fulfilled without the reemergence, in nonexclusive forms, of the religious spirit of kinship.  Nowhere is this notion of kinship – of connectedness -- more immediate to me than in the stories we hear in our religious communities, especially in the Jewish community.  And today, at sundown, marks the beginning of the Jewish celebration of Hannukah – a celebration of kinship and miracles.

Hannukah is a great example of that old real estate adage:  “location, location, location”.  As religious holidays go, it’s not very important.  But it’s location in time -- the 25th of the Jewish month of Kislev  --  coincides with late November-late December.  That means it’s bumping up against Christmas.  Which brings us to another old adage – this time from the theater:  timing is everything.

So here we have a holiday from one of our Unitarian Universalist sources that has grown in cultural awareness all out of proportion to its place in Jewish history.  But here it is.  And fortunately the theme of Hannukah -- which means ‘dedication’ -- contributes to the general theme of light coming from darkness found in the celebration of Diwali, and Christmas and the winter solstice.  Kwanzaa, as long as we’re naming December holidays, celebrates family, community, and culture. December is all about stories of light and kinship.  Stories about hope and community.  Just remember that stories don’t necessarily need to have happened in order to be true. 

Here’s the story of Hanukkah:  In 168 B.C.E. the Jewish Temple was seized by Syrian-Greek soldiers and dedicated to the worship of the god Zeus.  Then a year later the Syrian-Greek emperor Antiochus made the observance of Judaism an offense punishable by death. He also ordered all Jews to worship Greek gods.  As you might imagine, this decree added insult to the injury of being overrun by foreign aggressors.  But even in this relatively small family of Jews there was dissent; some of the Jews wanted to yield to or embrace – I don’t know which -- Hellenism.  But you know families.  There’s always a faction who wants to keep the peace at any cost, so some yielded to the emperor’s pressure.

But others didn’t.  Jewish resistance began in the village of Modiin, near Jerusalem. A Greek officer ordered Mattathias, a high priest, to bow down to an idol and eat the flesh of a pig -- both practices forbidden to Jews. But Mattathias refused.  Another villager -- one more amenable to Hellenistic customs --  stepped forward and offered to cooperate on Mattathias' behalf.  This so outraged Mattathias that he drew his sword and killed the villager, then turned on the Greek officer and killed him too. His five sons and the other villagers then attacked the remaining soldiers, killing all of them.  I would ask what part of Thou Shalt Not Kill this high priest didn’t understand, but that’s not part of the story.  I think we’ve all had times -- even in the best of families -- where enough is enough.  And at those times we do things we might not have done had we not been provoked beyond all reason.

Mattathias and his family went into hiding in the mountains, where other Jews wishing to fight against the Greeks joined them.  Under the leadership of Mattathias’ son, Judas, they eventually succeeded in retaking their land from the Greeks. These rebels became known as the Maccabees, which in Hebrew means ‘hammer’.  They went on to establish the Hasmonean dynasty, which ruled Judea for 103 years, but that, too is another story.

Once the Maccabees had regained control they returned to the Temple in Jerusalem.  What they found was their sacred place filled with the leavings of pig sacrifices and Greek idols.  It sounded like what you might find after a really rowdy New Years Eve party.  The first order of business was to clean up the mess in order to restore the temple’s purity.  The purification took eight days.  So eight days worth of oil were needed to complete the ritual.  According to Rabbinic tradition, the victorious Maccabees could only find a small jug of oil that had remained uncontaminated because it was sealed.  This small jug of oil contained only enough oil to sustain the Menorah for one day.   They lit the menorah anyway and miraculously the oil lasted for eight full days.  Remember, stories don’t need to have happened in order to be true.

This miracle -- the miracle of the Hanukkah oil -- is celebrated every year when Jews light a special menorah known as a hanukkiyah, a candelabrum with eight candleholders in a row.  For eight consecutive days, a candle is lit, and the hanukkiiyah is placed in a window, where passersby are reminded of this miracle. Lighting of the hanukkiyah is one of three almost universally practiced traditions of Hanukkah.

The second one is a game of spinning the dreidel, a four-sided top with one Hebrew letter written on each side.   The letters stand for the saying, Nes gadol haya sham, meaning A Great Miracle Occurred There.  (In Israel, instead of the fourth letter shin, there is a peh, which means the saying is Nes gadol haya po--A Great Miracle Occurred Here.)   Any number of people can take part in this game, and it’s way easier than mah jongg!  In it’s simplest form, each player begins with an equal number of game pieces (usually 10–15). The game pieces can be any object, such as gold-wrapped chocolate coins called gelt, pennies, or raisins.

At the beginning of each round, every participant puts one game piece into the center "pot". Every player puts one in the pot after every turn. Each player spins the dreidel once during their turn. Depending on which player side is facing up when it stops spinning, they give or take game pieces from the pot:
a) If the N (nes) is facing up, the player does nothing.
b) If G (gadol) is facing up, the player gets everything in the pot.
c) If H (haya) is facing up, the player gets half of the pieces in the pot. (If there are an odd number of pieces in the pot, the player takes the half the pot rounded up to the nearest whole number)
d) If S (sham) is facing up, the player adds a game piece to the pot
If the player is out of pieces, they are either "out" or may ask another player for a "loan".

The third Hanukkah tradition is eating fried foods -- remember this holiday is all about oil!  Latkes -- pancakes made from potatoes and onions and served with applesauce -- are a favorite.  This is a great way to re-purpose the left over mashed potatoes from Thanksgiving.  Another traditional food is sufganiyot -- jelly-filled donuts.  I don’t know if there are latkes awaiting in Ministers Hall after the service today, but you’ll find a version of sufganiyot at the Dunkin Donuts nearest you.

Because Hanukkah has become so intertwined with Christmas, there is more awareness of the Jewish traditions.  This recognition reinforces the pride of belonging to the kinship group -- the Big Strange Family -- that is Judaism.  It is a wonderful thing to be proud of your kinship group; I find myself having to reign myself in when talking about the loving, caring community that is Unitarian Universalism.  The challenge is to foster that pride in your particular affinity group -- your own community -- without denigrating someone else’s affinity group.
 
December is a month in which different holidays are marked and celebrated by our human family and some of the celebrations may look a little strange.  But holidays -- holy days in the Old English -- are nothing if not relational.  And that is why they are so bittersweet.    Our efforts to ‘get along’ in our families -- both our biological and our affinity groups -- are not always successful.  Many of us are distanced -- geographically and emotionally -- from our kin.  This lack of connection results by an overindulgence in STUFF as a substitute for an underindulgence in relationships.

The task of the religious community is to reverse that impulse:  to overindulge in establishing and maintaining relationships.  You are doing that now, as you open yourselves into relationship with the local Islamic Mosque.  The task of the religious community is to balance the concepts of liberty and equality.  We do this by practicing the non-exclusive form of the religious spirit of kinship that is Unitarian Universalism.   If we can learn to accept the diversity, which is sometimes thought of as strangeness, of our own family members, perhaps we can then begin to build bridges to other kinship groups.  And perhaps in time we truly will realize the goal of a world community -- a big, strange family -- at peace.  May it be so.  Shalom and Happy Hanukkah.

Big Strange Family, a sermon delivered by the Rev. Janet Onnie at 1stUUPB, Dec 6, 2015.

We Give Thanks

Buddhist Cynthia Ozick asks, How often do you pause to appreciate what you have in life?”  She says, “When I was young, I took things for granted. After all, we were young and we didn’t know what life could be like on the other side.  One thing we took for granted was education. In my country, it’s compulsory for all kids to go to school, so it was a given. We never thought about how lucky we were to be educated.  Then slowly as I grew up, I began to appreciate things around me more. As I saw more and more of the world out there, I realized all the things I’d been given are not rights, but privileges. I realized that being literate is a not a right, but a gift. I realized there is a lot of war and violence in the world. I realized there are people out there who don’t have their five senses, and to have mine is a gift.  I realized the world is so beautiful, and we’re lucky to live in such an amazing world.  Sometimes it’s easy to feel bad because you’re going through a tough time in life. However, remember that no matter how bad your situation may seem, there are tens of thousands of things to be grateful for in life.

While preparing the sermon for this morning I paused.  I wondered how I would work giving thanks into a message that is shadowed by violence, bad government, the homeless families I met on Thursday, the people at the food bank who continue to scratch a life together, refugees, murdered black Americans, and all the “isms” in the world especially the ism du jour which is the systematic hatred of Muslims. I researched more and found the words of Cynthia Ozick and it struck me, it is because of all that is happening around us that is distanced from many of us that we should give thanks.

We should give thanks that we are able to gather this morning.  Our congregation in Burundi was ransacked, shot at, and their Unitarian minister was kidnapped and imprisoned.  The Unitarians there are seen as a threat to the opposition in power.  The minister will likely be killed and never see his wife and son again. They are in Maine seeking asylum.

We should give thanks that we are not walking in the heat, starving, carrying our possessions and children, or perhaps leaving those we love behind, both dead and alive.  We should give thanks because we will return to a home after this service, we will be offered a meal after this service, we will be accepted no matter the color of our skin in this community.  We indeed do give thanks.

I don’t think we can stop there.  I believe being grateful goes beyond giving thanks for what we have in this moment.  Being grateful and giving thanks is a way of life -- and man is it hard to live this way.  I was at a dinner party Friday night and experienced this sort of giving thanks and gratefulness.  I, and others, plunked down and immediately started discussing what was wrong in our world and local politics.  Our hostess sauntered over to our group and reminded us that there are other sides of the stories we were telling and began to share those stories with us.  It changed the direction our train of despair was heading.  In a flash I was able to feel grateful and able to give thanks.

Later, I thought in order for us to survive and not succumb to despair we needed to intentionally live and think in ways that will save us. I also thought hey, we are Unitarian Universalists, it’s what we do.  Anyone or any group creating change first needs to identify the problems, right?  It’s inevitable, but you can’t live there.  That is, you can’t leave your spirit in those places.  If you make what’s wrong a way of living, you will become the miserable, lethargic, sarcastic being that people are probably already calling you.  Surely you want to prove them wrong!  Your spirit and attitude become stuck and eventually catatonic.  That doesn’t mean we become naïve, uninformed, or live in denial.  It means we need to recognize that we live in a world that will break us if we do not intentionally practice giving thanks.  We can visit those dark places but we should not build our houses there.

Gratitude means thankfulness, counting your blessings, noticing simple pleasures, and acknowledging everything that you receive. It means learning to live your life as if everything were a miracle, and being aware on a continuous basis of how much you’ve been given. Gratitude shifts your focus from what your life lacks to the abundance that is already present. In addition, behavioral and psychological research has shown the surprising life improvements that can stem from the practice of gratitude. Giving thanks makes people happier and more resilient, it strengthens relationships, it improves health, and it reduces stress.

Two psychologists, Michael McCollough of Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas, and Robert Emmons of the University of California at Davis, wrote an article about an experiment they conducted on gratitude and its impact on well-being. The study split several hundred people into three different groups and all of the participants were asked to keep daily diaries. The first group kept a diary of the events that occurred during the day without being told specifically to write about either good or bad things; the second group was told to record their unpleasant experiences; and the last group was instructed to make a daily list of things for which they were grateful. The results of the study indicated that daily gratitude exercises resulted in higher reported levels of alertness, enthusiasm, determination, optimism, and energy. In addition, those in the gratitude group experienced less depression and stress, were more likely to help others, exercised more regularly, and made greater progress toward achieving personal goals.

One of the things such studies show is that practicing gratitude can increase happiness levels by around 25%. That's significant, among other things, because just as there’s a certain weight that feels natural to your body and which your body strives to maintain, your basic level of happiness is set at a predetermined point. If something bad happens to you during the day, your happiness can drop momentarily, but then it returns to its natural set-point. Likewise, if something positive happens to you, your level of happiness rises, and then it returns once again to your “happiness set-point”. A practice of gratitude raises your “happiness set-point” so you can remain at a higher level of happiness regardless of outside circumstances.  In addition, Dr. Emmons’ research shows that those who practice gratitude tend to be more creative, bounce back more quickly from adversity, have a stronger immune system, and have stronger social relationships than those who don’t practice gratitude. He further points out that “To say we feel grateful is not to say that everything in our lives is necessarily great. It just means we are aware of our blessings.”

We tend to take for granted the good that is already present in our lives. There’s a gratitude exercise that instructs that you should imagine losing some of the things that you take for granted, such as your home, your ability to see or hear, loved ones or anything that currently gives you comfort. Read a newspaper if you’re struggling to imagine losing something.  Then imagine getting each of these things back, one by one, and consider how grateful you would be for each and every one.

We need to find joy in the small things instead of holding out for big triumphs before allowing ourselves to feel gratitude and joy.  Another way to use giving thanks to appreciate life more fully is to use gratitude to help you put things in their proper perspective. When things don’t go your way, remember that every difficulty carries within it the seeds of an equal or greater benefit. In the face of adversity ask yourself: “What’s good about this?”, “What can I learn from this?”, and “How can I benefit from this?”  Not unlike the hostess of the dinner party I mentioned.

Pastor Eddie Lawrence shares with us two big reasons that we need to give thanks.  The first is because we can’t be peaceful if we are not being thankful. Peace and ingratitude cannot sleep in the same bed together, nor do they fellowship in the same person. There is something about the nature of ingratitude that keeps us from being filled with the peace. He writes, “We are told that peace is to rule in our hearts. The word 'rule' in this verse means to serve as an umpire. We cannot release peace to ourselves and others when we are living out of bounds. And the land of ingratitude is definitely outside the boundaries. There are no benefits that come with ingratitude.”

Ask yourself, Do you enjoy hanging out with someone who is always demonstrating how ungrateful they are? They are always negative? Always pointing out what is wrong with everyone else but never see it in their own lives? I would venture to say that none of us here would deliberately choose such a person for our friend. Neither does peace.  If you think about it, when we are being ungrateful, it is a sure sign that we are not at peace with our place in the world.

The second reason is that you can’t be in unity if you are not giving thanks.  As I just mentioned, we find it difficult walking in unity with people who are ungrateful. How can thankful people and unthankful people really walk in unity?  Pastor Lawrence tells us that we have two choices:  “We will live with one of two orientations in our lives: We will be focusing on goodness and blessings, or, we will be constantly complaining about what has not yet happened, or what others are not doing, or what the government is not doing, and on and on it goes. And most people who live this way, seldom see their own irresponsibility or need to change.”

Being unthankful leads us into foolishness and darkness. If we are not a thankful people, we are a foolish people. If we are not a thankful people, we are not choosing light but darkness.
Ingratitude indicates that some darkness has taken root in our hearts and leading us into foolish thinking and living.  There are so many gifts in life, which we perhaps can recognize if we take some time. Let us give our thanks in ways that are true and right for us. May we remember to look for reasons both great and small for giving thanks, and may doing so increase our happiness. Perhaps this is what it means to say, Happy Thanksgiving.

May it be so.

We Give Thanks, a sermon delivered by the Rev. CJ McGregor at 1stUUPB on Nov 22, 2015.

Welcome. Bring a Friend Sunday

You may be a Unitarian Universalist if…
…you think socks are too formal for a summer service.
…even your goldfish gets to vote on family TV viewing choices.
…you consider Charlie Brown & Dilbert to be spiritual leaders.
…you know at least 5 ways to say Happy holidays!
…your Christmas tree has 7 symbols on its top.
…unleavened bread is part of your Easter Brunch.
…you find yourself lighting a chalice before brushing your teeth.
…if when you watch Jaws you root for the shark. ("Hey, sharks have to eat too!")
…belly-dancing has ever been part of a Sunday service.
…on Halloween you explain to everyone the Pagan significance of their costumes.
…you consider Groucho, Harpo & Chico to be the "Holy Trinity."
…the "X-Files" is a regular source of your church's sermons.
…you consider Millard Fillmore one of the greatest U.S. Presidents. (He was a Unitarian).
…you think "Whatever" is a valid theological point

In the book Our Chosen Faith UU layperson Betty Mills describes Unitarian Universalists.  She says, Who are these UU's, standing around the coffee table on Sunday mornings, discussing last night's movie and next Fall's election; reviewing the morning's sermon, designing tomorrow's educations, storming over next century's oceans? [They are] Joyful celebrants of the gift of life, mixing nonsense with the quest of the ages, turning secular need into concerned action, serving wine on the lawn and petitions in the foyer!

You might imagine that I get asked what it means to be a Unitarian Universalist.  I know you do as well. Often, I have used others' words, like the ones that come to me in email or on Facebook, to describe it. Other times, I have used songs, like Iris DeMent's marvelous reminder to "let the mystery be." But most of the time, I, like you, have had to struggle to come up with my own words to describe this faith, and I can assure you it hasn't always been easy.  Unitarian Universalism is a different kind of religion, and how we talk about it will thus reflect these differences. This morning I hope to share with you some ideas that have emerged for me, ideas which have helped me to better share my religion with others.

We’ve asked you to bring friends to join us in our morning service. While these "Bring-a-Friend Sundays" are quite common in UU churches, they can still cause dread in the hearts of many. Despite the fact that over and over again we hear people tell us, "I sure wish I'd learned about UUism sooner," many of us are reluctant to tell people about our church. Yet churches grow most (and best) when people bring their friends. But how to talk to our friends about UUism can be daunting. Hence this sermon, which I hope will help.

Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, you, or someone like you started coming to church. Perhaps you had been away from church for a long time. Perhaps you found yourself hungry for some unnamed something that was missing in your life. Perhaps your child began asking questions you couldn't answer without the answer sticking in your throat.  Perhaps you went back to the church of your childhood but found that you no longer belonged there. Searching for a place to belong, you made your way to a Unitarian Universalist congregation. Perhaps this one, perhaps another. Entering into this place, or one like it, perhaps you found yourself feeling peculiarly comfortable, energized by the ideas, warmed by the hearts of the people around you, encouraged by the commitment you saw to values not unlike your own. Perhaps you even felt like you had "come home" and began coming regularly and getting involved.

Now our story heads toward its critical moment. One day, at your office, or at a dinner party, or at coffee with friends, it slips out that after all these years, you are going back to church. One of your friends or co-workers asks you, "I don't know much about Unitarian Universalism. What is it you believe?" The fateful question has come. You may stumble, blush, stammer out a few words about what you don't believe. Make a joke or two about it. Then you may give up. Your friends give you a look that makes you feel two feet tall. And you come back to this church you find so meaningful, hoping someone like me will help you come up with a better answer that you can give the next time.

Does that story sound familiar? If it doesn't yet, I imagine that you will find yourself in such a position at some time. Unitarian Universalism is a difficult religion to explain if you approach it from the same perspective as traditional religions.

I, too, have struggled with language to describe the deeply felt convictions I hold in my heart.
 I, too, have been known to tell others first what I don't believe, instead of focusing on the positive aspects of my religion.
I, too, have felt that awkwardness when faced with someone proclaiming firm convictions of the conservative or fundamentalist variety, who cannot understand my faith that is filled with ambiguity and diversity.

I imagine that an evolving faith, as ours is and I trust always will be, brings with it the possibility of faltering words, changing viewpoints, open-ended questions and answers. The challenge before us is to creatively find a means to capture our religious values and beliefs in words and symbols that others (and we) can understand.  One way you can begin thinking about this is related to belief.

Most people, including many of us, I expect, equate religion with belief. That's not unusual. Many religious traditions are based on belief:
belief in a particular kind of deity;
belief in a ritual, such as baptism, as a means for salvation;
belief in a book or books as the only word of God;
belief in a creed that specifies exactly what you must assert as true in order to belong or be saved…

Beliefs are important, and all of us have beliefs that we hold dear and that help us live our lives. But belief is not the collective identity of what our religion is about.

The root of the word religion comes from the same root that gives us the word "ligament." What's a ligament? It's the part of our body that ties our muscles to our bones. So what's a religion? It's that which ties us together. Religion is not a word that equates necessarily with belief. Rather it means something more like "that which binds us together."  For some religious people, beliefs are what bind them together.

But for Unitarian Universalists, what binds us together is not belief but rather our perspective, or our attitude toward life. Where others see their religion as based on a particular set of beliefs, our religion begins with a set of affirmations about life, about the universe, about humankind. Our principles and sources state these affirmations quite beautifully. Unitarian Universalism begins with the deep seated conviction that human life is valuable.

We do not set people apart into groups of saved and unsaved, but rather affirm the dignity and worth of all people.  With this perspective, we are compelled to treat others with compassion and to work for justice for all people. With this world view we cannot easily dismiss the "other" as less than human, and are thus challenged to live with others in peace and as much harmony as we can muster.  And our principles remind us that we see the world as interconnected. The earth, the stars, the universe are not separate from us, they are us. As seekers of truth, we have let the wisdom of scientists and philosophers teach us the deep reality of existence that we, and all living creatures, even inanimate life, are made of the same stuff. We are indeed the stuff of stars, and our religion honors that interconnectedness.  This perspective, from which our religion finds its source, is simple yet also complex. Let me take a few moments to dig a bit deeper, and offer you three responses you might give to your friends, after you say, "I'm a Unitarian Universalist."

The first question your friend might ask you is, "What Bible or religious text do you believe in?" This question has to do with the source of our religious faith. We list six of these sources alongside the principles, because they are enormously helpful in reminding ourselves of the depth and breadth of our religious tradition. These sources include scripture, but they also include our own experience and the experience of others as a guide to truth. One hymn-writer over a century ago perhaps said it best when he wrote: Revelation is not sealed; answering now to our endeavor, truth and right are still revealed. (SLT #190)

"Truth and right are still revealed." In other words, while what others have written and said over generations is important and may be valid to our current understanding, there is always more to learn. And what we are learning may take the form of revelation in the most spiritual meaning of that term.

When your friend asks you about Unitarian Universalism, perhaps you might say this. For us, when it comes to religion, the book is open. As an evolving species on an evolving earth, we are committed, as religious people, to continue learning, to continue seeking, and to accept new revelation that is bound to come. We find revelation in books, in people, even in photographs, for the holy can touch our spirits in ways we may never have dreamed.
The next question we are asked may sound something like this: "I understand UUs can believe anything they want. Is that true?" That question, believe it or not, has to do with heresy. I love telling people that I am proud to be a heretic, though it has been known to take a few by surprise. Heresy, in many people's minds, conjures pictures of those who would not accept orthodoxy and tradition. Well, we certainly fit historically into that category. Our spiritual ancestors were those who questioned, who challenged, who listened first to the inner voice within calling them to what they saw to be the truth.

That image of heresy is important, and I challenge you to learn more about the many heretics who make up our religious history. Today, however, I want you to think of heresy in this way. The word "heresy" derives from a Greek word that means "able to choose." "Able to choose" is a very important aspect of our faith. If we operate out of the assumption that revelation is not sealed, then we have the possibility and the responsibility to choose our religious beliefs as they are revealed to us. Yes, people say of us that we can believe anything we want, but that's not true.

Unitarian Universalists believe what we have to believe, what our senses, our learning, our earth, our communities and our wise people teach us we must believe. We could choose to believe the earth is flat, but that would be against what we have learned to be true. So we choose instead to believe what we know to be true: that the earth is round and that we are a part of its life.

So when your companion over coffee asks you that difficult question, another response could be: We espouse a religion that honors our responsibility and capabilities to choose. Because we know that others, too, must do their own choosing, we value diversity and try to embody a loving acceptance of life's differences. We take responsibility for our religious choices and change them if new knowledge or understanding deem it appropriate. We are heretics, yes, but heretics who believe that the holy is found not in conformity, but in the wide diversity that makes life and our living it so wonderful and rich.

Your friend is not quite satisfied, and asks further: "If your church affirms that revelation can come from many sources, and that you must responsibly choose what you will believe, what holds you together? Do you have a basic belief that undergirds your religious life?" That's a very important question, but one that has, I believe, a simple answer.  Unitarian Universalism is built on a foundation that can be stated like this: We believe and live as if life, indeed all existence, matters. As living creatures, we have been blessed with the greatest gift of all. We did not ask for it, we do not deserve it, yet it is ours to make something with. Life matters not because people alone matter, it matters for itself alone. And because it matters, we find ourselves living life in a way that enables us to make the most of this great gift.
We do that by learning, by choosing, and by giving thanks.
We do it by recognizing that our lives, while valuable, are no more or less valuable than the life of any other person.
We do it by honoring the life of our mother earth, not just human life.
We do it by truly living in this world.

While we may have varying opinions about the possibility of life beyond death, our faith teaches us that it is in this life that we can make a difference.  The price tag for that great gift of life is death. Forrester Church, one of our most thoughtful Unitarian Universalist ministers, reminds us that religion is our response to the dual reality of being born and having to die. Throughout our lives we will struggle to understand the meaning of both. But if we live as if life matters we can face death with the certainty that while we lived we did the best we could. And then we can "let the mystery be" about what comes next. 

Unitarian Universalism is a faith that for many of us uplifts and sustains us through the fullness of our lives. It is my hope that you will find acceptance in this place; that you will feel encouraged to listen to what your heart is teaching you; that you will feel challenged to accept the choices you must make along your journey through life; and that you will feel blessed by the gift of life, and live your life alongside others as if they and you, and the whole of creation matter.  Let us give thanks and praise for the faith which has sustained our ancestors and which sustains us today. May we reach out to each other in fellowship and love, even as we let the mystery be what it will be. And may this circle of kinship open to include all those who seek to celebrate the spirit of life, and live as if it really matters. Because it does.

May it be so.

Welcome. Bring a Friend Sunday, a sermon delivered by the Rev. CJ McGregor at 1stUUPB, Nov 15, 2015.