Surplus anxieties

Rev. Marisol Caballero
December 29, 2013

We carry around so many stresses with us in our daily lives. As we leave behind the rush of the holidays and think about beginning 2014 anew, we will ask ourselves which of these burdens are worth our effort to carry, and which ones might we set down?


 

Reading “God on a Bad Day”
by Daniel 0’Connell

Who is God on a bad day? I’ll tell you who God is: God’s the one washing a piece of fruit over the sink, only the fruit has ants on it. God’s using a spray hose to blast the ants off the fruit and down the drain. We’re the ants.

Sometimes God goes to the extra trouble to blast-blast-blast an ant who has almost gotten away.

Who is God on an ordinary day? God is the pesky reminder that turns into the possibility of insight. It’s like cleaning your kitchen before the in-laws come over. As you kneel down to clean off the front of the oven, you notice some old dried pudding stuck to the kitchen cabinet, down near the floor.

As you get down on your hands and knees to clean the dried pudding from the cabinet, and from that angle you look up and see all the dust on the window, the crumbs in the corner, the chipped formica, all the little bits of crud attached to things you move through daily, all the stuff you’ve been living with. It’s all been there this whole time- for weeks, months maybe.

You see some of this for the first time. You wonder what visitors to your house might see. And you shudder with disgust or fear or a new resolve to clean things up.

But some things are too cheaply made to ever look good. And in another month the dirt will just be back again. Thanks for the fresh insight, God.

Who is God on a pretty good day? You look up from what you are doing and notice someone – your spouse, someone you know, perhaps a stranger. And God is the thought: You know, I gotta be nice to somebody; it might as well he you.

Who is God on a great day? God is the excuse to say thank you. Dear God, thank you for this life. Thank you for my spouse. Thank you for my family and friends. Thank you for my congregation, my calling, my colleagues. Thank you for this day- this amazing, never-to-be-repeated day. Thank you for another day of living. Thank you for all the blessings in my life, known or unknown to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Amen.

Candle Lighting and Meditation
by Mark Belletini

Let the difficulties of the week
take their Sabbath now,
their brief and simple rest.

Let the worries of the week
Lay their heft gently onto the dark earth
Below this carpeted floor
Which can bear them with greater ease
Than any of us can by ourselves.

Let the tangle of feelings,
The pull and push of these last seven days
Sit still for a minute,
Stop writhing in my heart,
And move no more than a Buddha
At rest under a tree.

Let there be stillness in my heart for a moment,
The balance point between breathing in
And breathing out, like the pause of a dancer
Between movements in the music.

Let the breathing in this room be free and flowing.
Let pulses trance a slower rhythm in the wrist.
Let the coming silence be like hands
Pulling back a curtain,
Revealing the table set with the feast of life
Which is present here and now
And has been the whole while,
Present to those who give up living in either the past
Or the future.

Sermon

This year is coming to an end. Each time that happens, there is a natural human urge to reflect back on the past twelve months and take stock of our journeys. We think back to all of the triumphs and difficulties we’ve maneuvered around and where all of that twisting and turning, dancing and crawling has taken us. I’ve been doing a lot of this, myself. It has been an eventful year. And, as I reflect back, I am noticing all that I am grateful for. I have been surprised by my gratitude for something deplorable. So, I’m just going to say it:

Thank goodness for stress! Yes, it’s crazy, but after much introspection, I mean it. Thank goodness for the sweaty palms, the indigestion, the nail biting, the tight necks, the tossing and turning at night, and the headaches. Don’t get me wrong. Stress is not fun, but I have come to think of it like that little red button on the Thanksgiving turkey that will pop up when the bird is ready to eat. Stress is a good indicator button, a flashing neon light. It will tell us if we are feeling sketchy about a situation and need to retreat – a great tool in developing our street smarts. It will also give us superhuman strength, so they say – if your child is trapped under a car, as rising stress levels result in an increase of the release of endorphins.

But, more than this, I appreciate stress if not for any other reason than the fact that when I notice that I am stressed, usually because I notice some of the physical symptoms I mentioned before, I gain an increased awareness. If I’m paying attention, an awareness of higher-than-usual levels of stress will alert me that there is a larger something going on that I should pay attention to, like a swollen lymph node does before an infection. I become more mindful of my life, my activity level, my obligations, my shortcomings, and my health. When I notice I am stressed, I am able to stop and take the pulse, so to speak, of all of this and make better decisions or reframe my thinking, though it is always easier said than done, for sure.

I haven’t always had this friendly of a relationship with stress and, truth be told, as with most people I suppose, I struggle with it daily. We have a love/hate relationship, stress and I. It was fairly recently in my adult life, actually, that I came to discover that I suffer from anxiety. It isn’t enough to be diagnosed a disorder, and most people do not know me as a particularly nervous person, so I was resistant, at tlrst, to facing it. I have made great strides through various forms of therapy and through reflection, but I have found that the most valuable lesson learned has been trying to make friends, a bit, with stress. Anxiety can be managed by reframing our worries, fears, and stresses and by tossing out those that do not serve us or are unnecessary.

Now, as I go along, you may notice that I will use the terms “stress”, “worries”, “fears”, and “anxiety” somewhat interchangeably. This might not be clinically sound, from a mental health perspective, since anxiety means something quite different to a psychologist, but it would be irresponsible of me to attempt to speak in clinical terms, anyhow. There is some overlap in the common understanding of these words and it is in that more general, casual context that I will use them. Thanks for indulging me.

Another one of the benefits of stress is that it can be a good motivator, urging us to meet deadlines & get great things accomplished. (I am one of those expert procrastinators that swears she does her best work under pressure.) Stress can also help us to place our best foot forward, when we prepare for a job interview or get ready for a first date. It can add to our excitement as we wait in line for a roller coaster.

Acknowledging these beneficial forms of stress can make it easier to make friends with it, to a degree. But in reality, most of us lead such fast-paced lives filled with responsibilities and demands of work and family, that our experience of stress is of the more annoying variety. It comes in the same package as the excitement building, motivating variety: palms sweat, the heartbeat increases, hands may start to quivel; stomach goes crazy, the mouth goes bone dry… Sound familiar? The difference is, with the aggravating type of stress comes the anxiety that deep-seeded fear induces.

Fear is at the bottom of all of our anxieties. In fact, we spend the good majority of our lives afraid. For example, if our job stresses us out, we might fear getting laid off or fired. We may fear ending up a “failure” or maybe even a success. Many times we become anxious because of the fear of breaking relationship with others. We’ll stress out about the way that our communication was received, wondering if we have hurt the feelings of someone we love. We fear not being accepted by others or not being loved. For many, above all, the most anxiety inducing fear is the fear of death. Wishing to prolong the inevitable for our loved ones and ourselves, we worry and worry about safety and health.

None of these are unfounded fears. Any anxieties caused by possible events are valid anxieties. After all, we have all either experienced or witnessed the loss of a job, a relationship ending in divorce, a broken friendship, or the disassociation of family members. We have all certainly felt rejection at one point or another in our lives. And, we have all experienced death and illness- whether intimately or several persons removed. We understand that tragedy is not only possible, but many of us have met it, personally. We know that bad things do happen so what is preventing them from happening to us and to those we love? – realistic, understandable, valid anxieties.

Why, then should stress be an indicator to slow down and gain perspective? Well, it is easy to allow our worries to snowball and become difficult to manage. I am not referring to the anxiety that can be brought on by drug or alcohol abuse or to the type that leads to panic attacks or that impede on the ability to function normally. These are all indications of larger problems and I urge anyone experiencing these types of anxieties to seek professional help.

No, I am talking about our common daily stressful lives that can leave us a bundle of nerves at the end of the day and make it difficult to unwind. How many times have you felt ruled by your stress instead of the other way around? This is why work is so often referred to as “the rat race”. We can easily feel as if a twenty four hour day just isn’t long enough, with all of our obligations and demands, combined with the things we enjoy doing and try to make time for. Worrying becomes the unwritten bullet point on our list of things to do and eventually goes along with each thing on the list, if we let it.

But, while many of our anxieties are justifiable, many more are unnecessary. They don’t serve us. They are superfluous. It is important to remember that possible events are not always likely events. I have heard wise parents speak of child rearing with this understanding of anxiety, saying, “Of course you worry, but you cannot stop your children from experiencing the world, good and bad. There are times that you have to let go and trust them and trust that you have done what you could for them.” Winston Churchill once echoed this when he said, “When I look back on all these worries I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which never happened.”

I once read a story that was a great illustration of how we may carry more stress than is necessary. In the story; a teacher asks some students the weight of a glass of water. Some answered 8 ounces, some 20. The teacher replied, “The actual weight doesn’t matter. What matters is how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s easy. If I hold it for an hour my arm will ache. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it remains the same actual weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” He continued, ‘find that’s the way it is with stress management. lfwe carryall of our anxieties all the time, sooner or later; as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won’t be able to carryon.” As with the glass of water; we must set down our worries, especially the unnecessary ones, sometimes temporarily, while we recover our strength, time, and emotional reserves, and sometimes permanently; when we gain an awareness that they do not serve us.

One instance in which I truly recognized the value in this practice of distinguishing between the useful and not-so-useful anxieties occurred along my path toward ministry and provided me with this sermon title of Surplus Anxieties. In 2010, I travelled to the east coast to be interviewed by the Regional Subcommittee on (Ministerial) Candidacy; one of the many hurdles through which we must pass on our way toward ordination. I was terribly nervous, so this was a chance for me to truly practice all that I have learned in managing my anxiety. I would be going before a panel of several strangers who were there to ask me personal and professional questions and whose job it was to judge me fit or unfit to continue on this journey: I was given the option beforehand to bring words to read as we light the chalice and I decided that I should take them up on the offer.

So, a week before travelling, I sat down and imagined myself before them and prayed what I felt. This is the prayer that I wrote and ultimately read on the day of my interview:

May this candle be for me here like a warm hearth fire, calming all surplus anxieties and reminding me that, in this company, I am home.

Yes, may this light be the hearth fire of this committee, as its members gather round it in their wisdom and experience, offering guidance and counsel to each who sit before them today.

The flame is our hearth, our common gathering place as Unitarian Universalists. Around it our movement draws together, returning home to where we are cherished, challenged, and celebrated, and creating a home for those seeking the same.

May the warmth of its fire be ever reaching. Amen.

We began the interview and I immediately noticed a man to my right with furrowed eyebrows and an intent look on his face. He leaned in closer each time I spoke to answer a question. For a moment I was certain that he absolutely hated me. But, I caught myself and thought, perhaps this is the look he has when he is listening deeply, perhaps he doesn’t hate me. Then came his turn to ask a question. He paused, eyebrows even more furrowed, and said, “My question is: Did you write that chalice lighting yourself? It was just lovely. Those words, “surplus anxieties”, I’ve never heard it put that way before. I really liked it!”

Man, the irony! My fears about being rejected, about the financial impact a delay in ordination might bring, all of my anxieties wrapped up in my imaginings of those furrowed eyebrows were all “surplus”! They were not needed and, in fact, were not serving me!

What has the wisdom of your years taught you is worth your extended anxiety and what is not? What are your “surplus anxieties”? Take a moment to reflect on what worries you are able to let go of that you have been carrying around with you. Maybe you can think of one, maybe several. Maybe it will not be easily set aside, or maybe it will. Try to challenge yourself. I invite you to hold them in your minds during the musical interlude. Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes. Visualize yourself lifting something heavy. That heavy object is your surplus anxiety. Then, imagine yourself setting that burden aside and simply walking away.

The old Quaker song says, “‘Tis a gift to be simple, ’tis a gift to be free… ” Let’s simplify our lives by being free of our surplus anxieties.

Musical Interlude

To take care of ourselves is truly a spiritual exercise. In doing so, we honor the sacred nature of our being, the spark of divinity that resides inside each of us. When we pay attention to our whole selves, our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs, we are, in turn, caring for and showing reverence to one small corner of the interdependent web of existence, for we, too are citizens of the universe that matter. When we recognize the importance of caring for ourselves, we become better stewards of the planet and begin to increase the value we recognize in all living things and in future generations. And, when we take the time to care for ourselves, we replenish our reserves and have the capacity to care for others better.

One reason we come to church is to take care of ourselves by being part of a loving spiritual community. We become one part of the whole, knowing that we don’t always have to shoulder all of our worries alone – others will worry about us and with us, as well.

Recognizing and then ridding ourselves of our surplus anxieties is one way to exercise self-care. To do so as a church community shows us that we are not alone in carrying them around. In fact, next Sunday during the annual Burning Bowl service, all will be invited to bring forward those things that you would like to leave behind as we begin 2014 together. Your surplus anxieties may find their way into the fire alongside bad habits, grudges, and other disposable things.

There are many ways to de-stress and relieve anxiety before they become “surplus”. Paying attention to our interpersonal communication, setting achievable goals, forgiving your shortcomings, going to therapy or chatting with your partner, a close friend, your minister, or another or confidant, and exercising flexibility are all ways to alleviate anxiety and practice self-care. Other means of self-care include meditation, prayer, exercise and healthy eating habits, using your imagination, your creativity, and enjoying your hobbies.

Again, practicing self-care is not simply a matter of self-indulgence, it is a spiritual practice. It nurtures our soul. I now invite you to consider the ways that you will engage in the spiritual practice of self-care – perhaps today or this week, perhaps this year. No matter. Think of it as a promise to yourself. Visualize yourself engaging in these intentions. Now that we have freed ourselves of the surplus anxieties we carried in with us this morning and have together set intentions for self-care, perhaps we can leave here with a lighter load, filled with joyous gratitude, like God on a great day, saying to our lives, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Benediction

Let love, not fear or worry, or stress, or anxiety be your legacy! Carry these intentions out with you today! Go in peace!


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

A Sudden Flame, an Extraordinary Journey

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
December 22, 2013

Solstice is the night, holy to the ancients, where we wait in darkness for the return of the light. What kinds of things spark in us to lift us from a place of unseeing, a place of uncertainty?


 

In cultures all across the northern hemisphere, the human race is performing rituals to honor the longest night of the year, rituals to call the light back, lighting candles, bringing greenery indoors. During the darkening time, in the early fall, we have had days of repentance from the Jewish tradition, we have had the days of the dead in the Christian tradition, we have the dance with the dead on Hallowe’en in the pagan tradition. We have watched the dark grow long, we have felt the cold gather in. The light has been narrowing, shortening, getting pale and chill. On this Solstice night, last night the sacred dark will be at its deepest. Some say the dark is a time for stillness but for many of us, this is the liveliest time of the year. In our particular climate, some of us hibernate in the stifling heat and we come to life in the cooler winters. The heat slows us down around here, school is out, we do less, our brains slow down.. I don’t know how you are, what your body’s rhythm is. It has one, and it’s good to pay attention to what it is. Are you feeling the strain of activity at this time of year? Maybe you need stillness in the dark months. Maybe you are humming in the cool weather, getting your house decorated, buying and sending presents, planning meals, having parties, invigorated. Our winters here are not somber and gray. We have sun and esperanza flowers, so ceremonies that talk about the bleakness of winter don’t ring true here.

Maybe it’s your spirit that’s bleak, though. Maybe you are tired, working, giving exams, taking exams, too much shopping, too many expectations, too little money, too much trying to be perfect and lovely and strong. Solstice tells us is that the wheel is going to turn. Things will change. The cool weather comes, and it goes. The light comes, and then it goes, then it comes again. The wheel turns.

Sing
Her name cannot be spoken, Her face is not forgotten
Her power is to open, Her promise won’t be broken
All seeds She deeply buries, She weaves the thread of seasons
Her secret, darkness carries, She loves beyond all reason
All sleeping seeds She strengthens,
The rainbow is Her token
Now winter’s power awakens, In love all chains are broken
She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes
We are Changers, Everything we touch can change
Change is, Touch is, Touch is, Change is
Change us, Touch us, Touch us, Change us

IT is ridiculous to call the spirit by a pronoun. “She” is as wrong as “he,” as wrong as “it” or “them.” As we continue to sing it throughout the sermon, use whichever one is comfortable for you. I will use She, as that is how we sing this in my village.

What I want to say to you today is that you can count on a change. If you are feeling lost, numb, confused — it’s temporary. There will be a spark that will signal the turning of the wheel.

“If you have your ears open,” says novelist Frederick Buechner, “if you have your eyes open, every once in a while some word in even the most unpromising sermon will flame out, some scrap of prayer or anthem, some moment of silence even, the sudden glimpse of somebody you love sitting there near you, or of some stranger whose face without warning touches your heart, [these moments] will flame out, and these are the moments that. .. in the depths of whatever our dimness and sadness and lostness are, send us off on an extraordinary journey for which there are no sure maps and whose end we will never fully know until we get there.”

If you are content, if you have things figured out, under control, it’s temporary. There will be a falling apart, a darkening, a time for growing your roots, a time for not knowing what’s going on, a time for learning everything all over again. The human learning pattern is a spiral. We come around to the same place over and over and we say “Am I here again? I never thought I would be having to learn this again, having to figure this out again, yet here I am!” You are in the same place, but you are farther along than before. You know things you didn’t know before. You have experience you didn’t have before. In nature, darkness is necessary for life. There are processes in the trees that need darkness to happen. We are using “darkness” here, not to talk about evil or wrong, but to talk about the necessary and inevitable times when we can’t easily see what’s around us, when it’s perilous to move quickly, when we can’t be certain what to do. What this time of year tells us is that it’s into the darkest time that the light is born.

It’s born in the form of a spark, in the form of a Divine Child, it’s born in an unexpected way, helped along by unexpected things. It’s in danger from the moment of its birth, yet it escapes to grow and flourish. That is the story of the divine Christ child, and it’s the story of many other divine heroes throughout the ages. A human whispers “yes” and the light is born.

How do we whisper “yes” so the light can be born? How do we invite it? How do we open to it so that our confusion can be lit with a dawning clarity, so our lost-ness can be guided by a light through the trees, so our despair can be pierced by love?

Sing
Everything lost is found again, In a new form, in a new way
Everything hurt is healed again, In a new time, in a new day
Bright as a flower and strong as a tree
With our love and with our will
Breaking our chains so we can be free
O Great Spirit, turn the wheel.
She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes
We are Changers, Everything we touch can change
Change is, Touch is, Touch is, Change is
Change us, Touch us, Touch us, Change us

What if this were a turning point for you? What might the Spirit touch to turn the wheel? Your fears?

If you could surrender those your heart might be changed. Touch our fears.

What about your resentments? If you can surrender your resentments the wheel might turn. Touch our resentments.

Your expectations of how things should be? Your feeling that you should do things a certain way, just right, and that there is no room for mistakes? Touch our expectations.

Sing
She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes
We are Changers, Everything we touch can change
Change is, Touch is, Touch is, Change is
Change us, Touch us, Touch us, Change us

The first Sunday in January you will be invited to come up to put your own individual wishes, prayers and elements in need of transformation into the fire. We will have our Burning Bowl service on Sunday the 5th.

Ritual is a way to open our eyes, our ears, our hearts. Coming together to worship is a way to open, singing, laughing, listening, eating together all are ways to open to the spark, to have a word

“flame out, some scrap of prayer or anthem, some moment of silence even, the sudden glimpse of somebody you love sitting there near you, or of some stranger whose face without warning touches your heart, [these moments] will flame out, and these are the moments that… in the depths of whatever our dimness and sadness and lostness are, send us off on an extraordinary journey for which there are no sure maps and whose end we will never fully know until we get there. “

May it be so for each one of us, as the light is born.

Song Kore’s song.
Adapted from chant by Laura Liebling and Starhawk

She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes
Her name cannot be spoken, Her face is not forgotten
Her power is to open, Her promise won’t be broken
All seeds She deeply buries,
She weaves the thread of seasons
Her secret, darkness carries,
She loves beyond all reason
All sleeping seeds She strengthens, The rainbow is Her token
Now winter’s power awakens, In love all chains are broken
She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes
Everything lost is found again, In a new form, in a new way
Everything hurt is healed again, In a new time, in a new day
Bright as a flower and strong as a tree
With our love and with our rage
Breaking our chains so we can be free
With our love and with our rage
We are, Changers, Everything we touch can change
Change is, Touch is, Touch is, Change is
Change us, Touch us, Touch us, Change us
bad diang
There is a woman who weaves the night sky
See how She spins, see Her fingers fly
She is within us, beginning to end
She is our Mother, our sister, our friend

What can spark us into a new journey? Breaking Bad “I’m awake!”


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

Christmas Pageant

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
December 15, 2013

We join together in our annual intergenerational Christmas Pageant as the shepherds, angels and royalty gather around the newborn holy child.


Call to worship

From Patrick Murfin’s “We Build Temples in the Heart”

Today, let us be that stable, let us be the place that welcomes the last the weary and rejected, the pilgrim stranger, the coming life.

Let not the frigid winds that pierce our inadequate walls or our mildewed hay, or the fetid leavings of our cattle shame us from our beckoning.

Let our outstretched arms be a manger so that the infant hope, swaddled in love, may have a place to lie.

Let a cold beacon shine down upon us from a solstice sky to guide us the seekers who will come.

Let the lowly shepherd and all who abide in the fields of their labors lay down their crooks and come to us.

Let the seers, sages, & potentates of every land traverse the shifting dunes, the rushing rivers, and the stony crags to seek our rude frame.

Let the herdsman and high lords kneel together under our thatched roof to lay their gifts before Wonder.

Today, let us be that stable.

Introduction

WHEN GOD WAS A BABY

At the Christmas pageant last year, children picked out costumes from piles the director had arranged on the tables outside the sanctuary. You could be an angel, a shepherd, an animal, or a king. Two brothers came in already dressed as Batman, and stood reverently by the manger looking at the baby Jesus. “There is no Batman at the manger,” one person said later.

“Probably not,” I answered, “but there is a lot we don’t know about what actually happened. Historically, we barely know Jesus lived, much less whether he was born in Bethlehem, or whether he was married to Mary Magdalene, or whether he went to India to study in the ‘lost years’ between being a twelve year old talking with the teachers in the temple and beginning his ministry as an adult.” I saw her eyes glaze over with this much information, and circled back to the point. “Right. Odds are against there having been a Batman.”

The baby in the manger is a soul story, if not an historical story. Soul stories are as likely to be true as stories from history, but they are perhaps a different sort of true, and you approach them differently. Before and after doing historical research, Biblical study, and the kinds of work on context and language one does when looking at a story from a Scripture, my inclination is to interact with the story as I would with a dream.

Holding the image of the Divine as a baby in mind and heart, I invite myself to let go of my hold on the Abrahamic God, the ideas about the Divine I can live with or not, the elements of the concept of a God I believe in and those I don’t believe in. A soul story is a dream from the depths of a culture, not an individual. This is bigger than my squeamishness or my history.

When God is a baby, no one has to be afraid of God. No one has to tremble before God’s wrath. No one has to wonder what they have done wrong, how they have disappointed God. A baby God isn’t mad at you – in fact, it needs you to coo over him, hold him close, smell her head, curl her tiny fingers around your pinkie, protect him and visit her with presents. No wonder Christmas is a well loved holiday – we get to coo over the baby God, and feel the aching openness of a heart at its very beginning.

Among the ways to understand the Divine is as the spirit of love, the spirit of light, the spirit of life. A baby love, a baby light, a baby life would carry within itself all that it will become, like an oak within the acorn, like two hundred and thirty-eight possible tomatoes contained within one tomato seed, like a mighty river that starts as a spring seeping out of the earth in a high and quiet place. The light starts as a tiny spark. A new baby love has all the possibilities in the world, it carries all the hopes and dreams. Later on, as it grows and matures, it becomes more real, and if you are skilled and lucky, it grows richer and deeper. As life starts you care for it and nurture it. You are careful with it. You delight in it. A baby is full of possibility.

What if this is a story about the soul entering the world of the body? The light of spirit and wisdom, the Divine Seed planted in a human being? Some of the founders of our free religion believed that the seed of God, a tiny sliver of the light, was in each of us.

I think about the Divine seed, the wise baby, within me, containing the whole of divinity in itself, yet needing to grow. Antoine St. Exupery writes: “the seed haunted by the sun never fails to find its way between the stones in the ground.” (“Flight to Arras”) Is my soul the seed, or is it the light? I say it is both. Do we long for the Divine, or are we Divine ourselves? Both. Do we search for God or is God within us? Both.

In times of confusion and doubt, I see myself able to visit my soul like the magi, the wise magicians, and kneel before it with gifts of quiet, respect and love. I can nurture the light, the seed of God within me. I can protect it from the forces of power-over that show up next in the faith story, the forces of fear and control, the Herod power, the light-killing, love-killing power of the outer world and of my inner world as well.

I wish for each of you at this time of the rebirth of the light that the light be reborn in you, that love be cradled in your heart, that you be a seed haunted by the sun, finding your way from the nurturing darkness, past all obstacles, stubbornly and rapturously breaking through to live in the light.

The Christmas Pageant

Today, we are a family, a community, gathering not only to enjoy an old story, but also for the feeling of being together. We have lit our chalice as a symbol of the light that people before us have celebrated forever and the light that shines within each of our souls. However it is expressed, it is a time of joy.

The season of the winter solstice has been celebrated in one form or another for thousands of years. A hundred different cultures have told stories about how the birth of their gods took place at this time of year, or how light, hope and life are returning to their world and to their lives. This evening, we will present the version of this story written by Christians, which is part of our American and Western culture, whether we are Christians or not. It is the story of a special baby, a child of God as all babies are, a child called Jesus. And today, this story is wrapped not only in swaddling clothes, but also in wonderful music about the greenery, the holly and the ivy, the candles, music and merriment that were part of the season long before Christianity was born – like our next carol, “Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly.”

THE CHRISTMAS STORY:

Now this is the Christmas story. It happened long, long ago, in a far away land. A man and a woman named Joseph and Mary had to make a journey to the city of Bethlehem, because there was a new law that said everyone had to return to the city where they were born to pay their taxes. Joseph was worried about Mary taking this trip as she was going to have a baby very soon, but Mary wanted to be with her husband for the birth of their first child. It was a long trip to Bethlehem, three full days of walking.

Mary was glad when they saw the rooftops of Bethlehem in the distance. “Joseph,” she said, “let’s stay at the first inn we come to. I think our baby is almost ready to be born.” But when they got to Bethlehem, they found the little town crowded with people. They stopped at the first inn they came to and knocked on the door. But the innkeeper told them, “I’m sorry, there is no more room here.” At the next inn the innkeeper said, “We’re full. Try the place three streets over. It’s bigger.” Joseph tried another place and another place, but everywhere it was the same story: “Sorry, no room for you here.”

Finally, when it was almost night time, they saw a house at the edge of town with a light in the window. Joseph knocked at the door, and told the innkeeper, “Please help us. We need a place for the night. My wife is going to have a baby soon and I don’t think she can travel any farther.” And the innkeeper said, “There’s no room in the inn, but don’t worry, we’ll find someplace for you.” The innkeeper showed Mary and Joseph to a quiet little barn where the animals were. (Animals, come join us in the barn with Mary and Joseph.) It was clean and warm and smelled like sweet hay.

And on that very night in that barn in Bethlehem, their little baby was born. It was a boy and they named him Jesus. Mary and Joseph wrapped him in the soft swaddling cloth and made a little bed for him in the hay.

BIBLICAL READING: Luke 2:1-7

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

That night, like every night, there were shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem, watching the flocks of sheep. The shepherds were surprised and amazed by a very bright light in the sky and a strange song coming from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. It was angels and they were glorious! (Angels, please find the shepherds to share the good news.)

After sharing the joyous news with the shepherds, the angels went to find the baby born in a stable in the city of Bethlehem and to tell everyone about him. (The Angels are free to wander the sanctuary spreading the news and come to the barn to say hello to baby Jesus. Then they should return to their seats.) Mary and Joseph never saw the angels, but the angels saw them and their little baby and all said, “What a beautiful child!”

BIBLICAL READING: Luke 2:8-16

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company ofthe heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.

After the angels had gone away, the shepherds remembered what they had said, that a wonderful baby had been born and that they could find him by following the brightest star in sky. So the shepherds all said to each other, “Let’s go look for that baby.” They had no trouble finding the stable, because of the bright star, and sure enough, there inside were Mary and Joseph, watching over their little baby, Jesus. And the shepherds all said (very quietly), “Oh! What a beautiful child!” Then they went away and told everyone what they had seen.

On this same night, three wise men saw the bright star and said to each other, “Look at the amazing star! It must be shining for something very special!” The wise men loaded up their camels with treasures and traveling supplies and followed the star all the way to Bethlehem. (The Wise Men will make their way to the barn/stage.) Jesus was only a few days old when the wise ones found him, but they knew he was special. “What a wonderful child. This child will be our teacher.” And they gave the baby gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Mary and Joseph wondered for a long time about all of these things that happened when their child was born. “Isn’t it wonderful that all these people would come to see our baby and give us presents for him. They don’t even know him.” When Jesus grew up, he was a courageous teacher, just like the wise ones said. And one ofthe most important things he tried to teach people was to love each other and to treat all people, even strangers, with kindness and care. And people who have tried to follow his best teachings have become better people, and have spread light through their world, which is what we are here to do.

Today we shared the Christmas Story about one special baby. But this baby isn’t the only special one. Every child is a treasure, is a wonder and a miracle. And as they grow up, they are always and forever a treasure, a wonder and a miracle.

Reading

For so the children come and so they have been coming.
Always in the same way they come
Each night a child is born is a holy night.

[parents] sitting beside their children’s cribs
feel the glory in the sight of a new life beginning…
Each night a child is born is a holy night, a time for singing,
a time for wondering, a time for worshipping.

Excerpted from “Each Night a Child is Born is a Holy Night” by Sophia Lyon Fahs


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

A UU Faith Story: John Murray

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
December 8, 2013

Rev. John Murray brought Universalism to the New World. How did he get from an English debtor’s prison to being chaplain in General Washington’s army?


 

Reading
John Murray

Go out into the highways and by-ways of America, your new country. Give the people, blanketed with a decaying and crumbling Calvinism, something of your new vision. You may possess only a small light but uncover it, let it shine, use it in order to bring more light and understanding to the hearts and minds of men and women. Give them, not Hell, but hope and courage. Do not push them deeper into their theological despair. but preach the kindness and everlasting love of God.

Sermon: A UU faith story: John Murray

One of the six sources UUism draws from is the prophetic deeds of men and women throughout history and in our time. We could study the life of Nelson Mandela to see what spiritual depth looks like, to see courage and persistence in the face of violence and injustice. ,This morning I’m going to tell you about John Murray, who came to the New World in 1770, a defeated man, trying to start over again in a land where he could disappear. He was 29 years old, a widower. His wife Eliza and their one-year-old baby died in England, and medical bills had crushed him, landing him in debtor’s prison. John was a deeply religious man, raised by strict religious parents. His father would quiz him when he was 7, 8, and 9 years old, asking him questions about the sermon they had heard that morning. If he couldn’t answer the questions he would get caned or have his ears boxed. Most sermons back then were about hell, as people back then took its threat very seriously.

Unfortunately, you still can hear a good many sermons preached by people who believe in hell. We are surrounded by people steeped in that belief, preachers who will use a funeral service to warn the grieving family and friends that they won’t see their loved one again if they don’t repent and believe in just the right way, so they will end up in heaven. Our UU children, along with the Presbyterian, Methodist and other more progressive denominations’ kids, hear from classmates at school about how they are doomed to eternal torment for not being the right kind of Christian. We call our movement Unitarian Universalism because we believe in Universal salvation. That means we believe a loving God would not send anyone to hell. I think a belief in hell makes people dissociated – holding two deeply rooted opposite thoughts in their minds at the same time, not really able to look at either of them, not able to be a whole and integrated person because of that. I heard a songwriter from Lubbock on NPR years ago. He said “We learned two things in Sunday School. One, God loves you and he’ll send you straight to hell. Two, sex is dirty and dangerous and you should save it for the one you love.” We prosecute parents who burn their children even once for disobeying. Do we believe we are more moral than God? Would anyone you know send one of their children to hell for eternity for any kind of misbehavior, much less for having the wrong thoughts or beliefs? No! Are we better parents than God is? To hold in your mind that God is love and that he will send you to hell requires a twisting of good sense and a good heart. To believe that we should be one way as humans, but worship a God who behaves in a less moral way doesn’t make sense. It would build your understanding on a deep fear and mistrust, and it would make you abandon trust in your own sense, which, after all, cannot understand how love and torture should go together.

People have been thinking this over, fighting about it, for a long time. In the second century, before all the Christian doctrines had been decided by church councils convened by Emperor Constantine, a theologian named Origen of Alexandria taught that humans were born, not in a state of sin and separation from God, but in a state of primal blessedness. Here is what I think is corollary to that premise: If people are born innocent, with free will, then all you have to do is teach them. You don’t have to beat the sin out of them, they don’t have to be changed, they don’t have to be born again into right relationship with God, they are there already. Humanity is not fallen, evil, the world is not wicked in itself, the creation is not jinxed, marred, doomed until it is made whole by some cataclysmic event still to come. This world is good and the people in it are good. People did not discuss these things calmly in those days, and he ended up in his old age being fettered in an iron collar and stretched on the rack for his beliefs, dying for his “heresy.”

John Murray was never put on the rack. He lost everything, though, because he was converted to Universalism in England. He had been a lay preacher and Bible scholar with the Irish Methodists, and he loved good preaching. He visited every church in London, which is how he heard James Relly, a Universalist preacher. The idea that God was loving and that everyone would be saved in the end appealed to him and to his wife Eliza. Their friends begged them to come back to normal church. Their families cried. His business dried up. When he ended up bereaved, in prison, bailed out by Eliza’s brother, he just wanted to disappear, never preach again, never talk theology again, start all over with no history where no one knew him and he didn’t have to face either looks or words of loving concern or a self-righteous “I told you so.” He booked passage on the Hand In Hand, which was sailing for New York. The captain landed in Philadelphia instead, due to a miscalculation. Lots of the passengers got off. They sailed again for New York, but ran aground on a sand spit off the coast of New Jersey, at Good Luck Point.

Asked by the Captain to row ashore to look for food and water, came to a clearing in the pines and saw a large house and a trim looking church made of rough sawed lumber. A tall farmer stood in front of the house cleaning fish. The following dialogue is imagined in the collected stories for UU children called “UU and Me.”

“Welcome” called out the farmer. “My name is Thomas Potter.”

“And I am John Murray, from the ship Hand in Hand.”

“Yes,” said Thomas, “I saw your ship in the bay, stuck on the sand bar, she is.”

“May I buy your fish to take back to the ship’s crew?” asked John.

“You can have them for the taking, and gladly:” answered Thomas, “and please come back to spend the night with my wife and me. I will tell you all about this little church and why it is here.”

John gratefully carried the fish to the sailors, and then returned to Thomas’ home for the night.

“Come, my friend, sit in front of our fire, this chilly fall evening,” said Thomas. “I’m so glad you have come. You may be the very person I’ve been waiting for.”

Potter told Murray that he had often heard the Bible read, and had thought a lot about God, coming up with ideas that made sense to him. He built the little church hoping for a preacher who would teach about things that made sense to him.

“Today, when I saw your ship in the bay,” he said to Murray, “a voice inside me seemed to say, “There, Potter, in that ship may be the preacher you have been so long expecting.”

John said quickly,” I am not a preacher.”

“But,” said Thomas Potter, leaning forward, “can you say that you have never preached?”

“I have preached,” answered John slowly,” and I believe, as you do, in a loving God.”

“I knew it! I knew it!” shouted Thomas.” You are the preacher for whom I have waited for so long! You’ve got to preach in my church on Sunday!”

“No,” replied John firmly. “I never want to preach again. Tomorrow, as soon as the wind changes, I will be on my way!”

After John went to bed, he couldn’t sleep. He wrote later that he thought to himself as he tossed and turned,” I just want to get away from everything…if I preach I know there will be trouble. Why start all of that over again? “By Saturday night the wind had still not changed, and John finally agreed to preach the next morning. Thomas Potter was happy. And so, on Sunday morning September 30, 1770, the first Universalist sermon was delivered in America. Thomas Potter, a Universalist before he even heard John Murray, heard a preacher talking about love instead of an angry God and a fiery hell.

I would say that John Murray is the patron saint of people who are stuck. Our life runs aground, and the way we get it going again is by doing what we were born to do. Circumstances may conspire like border collies nipping at your heels, driving you to the place where you realize what you need to do. May we all find a guide like Thomas Potter, who will give us the push we need in the right direction.

The Revolutionary War came, and John Murray worked as a chaplain to the troops, under the orders of General George Washington. When the war was over, and the new US was founded, in 1779, John Murray organized the first Universalist church in America in Gloucester, Mass. After many years, he fell in love again and married. He and his wife, Judith Sergeant, had a daughter. He was right about having trouble. In Massachusetts, it was argued that Universalists should not be allowed to serve on juries or to testify in court “because no one who did not believe in eternal punishment could be trusted with such serious responsibilities. One Sunday in Boston, Murray was in the middle of his sermon when a large rock sailed through the large stained-glass window behind him, narrowly missing his head. “Murray, never at a loss for words, held up the rock to the congregation’s view, weighed it in his hand, and pronounced, “This argument is solid, and weighty, but it is neither rational nor convincing.” Our job as Universalists is to live in this hell-haunted place and hold out the idea that a loving God would not torture anyone for mistakes or even for really bad behavior. People can make a hell for themselves or one another right here, but God doesn’t make one for us.

Let love continue. If we agree in love, there is no disagreement that can do us any injury; but if we do not, no other agreement can do us any good. Let us keep a secret guard against the enemy that sows discord among us. Let us endeavor to keep the unity of spirit in the bonds of peace.
Hosea Ballou

(Owen-Towle, The Gospel of Universalism, Introduction, p.v). (Scott, These Live Tomorrow, pp.25-26)


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

How did we get the bible?

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
December 1, 2013

If the Bible didn’t drop out of the sky onto the top of Mt. Ararat, where did it come from? Did God write it? Does it have mistakes? How do we read it as religious liberals?


 

Call to worship:
Ralph Waldo Emerson

A person will worship something – have no doubt about that.

We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the dark recesses of our hearts – but it will out.

That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and character.

Therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.

Reading: 
Howard Thurman

In the quietness of this place, surrounded by the all-pervading presence of the Holy, my heart whispers:

Keep fresh before me the moments of my High Resolve, that in good times or in tempests,

I may not forget that to which my life is committed.

Keep fresh before me the moments of my high resolve.

Sermon:

This Bible I’m holding in my hand has power. Power to make a whole roomful of Unitarian Universalists uncomfortable. We have strong feelings about this book. Even the way it looks evokes strong feelings. Its sides flop down when you hold it up. Maybe there is a zipper around the side. For some of us there are things in this book we love: passages that move us, inspire us, strengthen or guide us. Some of us haven’t looked at it in years and won’t again. Some of us fear what’s in here. There are places that can shame us, fill us with guilt, enrage us and sadden us. Some of us have had this book used against us like a club, and some of us have used it that way ourselves at some point along our path.

This book has shaped history and culture, it has inspired the feeding of the poor, the establishment of hospitals and schools, and it has also been used to support slavery and slaughter. As thinking people, we owe it to ourselves not to be merely reactive about this book. Let’s form an educated view. Let’s remove some of the mystery and mis-information that overlay the way we see the Bible.

How Did We Get the Bible?

When did we get it? First of all there’s not really an “it”, it’s a “them”. The first two-thirds of the Bible is the Hebrew Bible, what most Christians call the “Old Testament.” “Testament” means contract, or covenant, an agreement between two parties. The Hebrew Bible is made of books of the history of the Hebrew people, their law, books of prophecy, poetry, proverbs, and a hymnal: the book of the Psalms. The books were written on scrolls, and different synagogues would have different scrolls. Some would have a copy of the scroll of Isaiah, some of Deuteronomy, etc.

Early in the first century of the Common Era a group of Jewish scholars got together and formed the accepted list of the books that would be included in the Hebrew Bible. If you have a Roman Catholic Bible you have all those books. If you have a Protestant Bible you have fewer, because during the Reformation in the 16th century the Reformers took several books out of their accepted list. The scrolls were in Hebrew, but, since after 70 CE when the Romans destroyed the Temple and scattered the Jews to the far corners of the earth, Hebrew ceased to be a living common language, so one could understand them well in Hebrew. A translation in Greek, called the Septuagint, was used until the Latin translation in 400 and the first English one in 1380.

The New Testament is made up of four Gospels, different views of the life of Jesus. Three of them, called the synoptic gospels, are very similar, leading scholars to believe they used the same sources, and one, the Gospel of John, contains stories the others don’t have, and it has much more of a “Divine” view of Jesus than do the others. Then there are the letters. Most of them are letters by a Christian called Paul, St. Paul, the Apostle Paul, to various churches around the Mediterranean. Then there are a few letters by other folks, and the whole thing ends with an apocalyptic vision (meaning a vision of the end of the world) by a man known as John.

In the beginning of the Christian movement when they talked about “The Scriptures” they were talking about the Hebrew Bible. There were numerous Christian writings circulating. There were lots of gospels, lots of letters, lots of Revelations. No one really thought of making an accepted list, or Canon, of scriptures until a man named Marcion popped up un 140 with a list he wanted to make the official one. He included part of the Gospel of Luke and ten of the letters of Paul. That was it. The church responded by calling a meeting at which a new list was drawn up that looked a bit more like what is there today. Over the years books were added. The biggest debates were over the books of Hebrews and the book of the Revelation of John. It was somewhere between 170 and 220 that these New Testament books began to be given the same status as the Hebrew Bible.

In the early days, before the invention of the printing press in the mid 1500’s, few people could read the Bible. Many of the clergy were as illiterate as the people they served. Stories from the Bible were told by traveling troupes of actors, or were pictured in stained-glass windows in the cathedrals. Then the printing press was invented and copies of the Bible didn’t have to be painstakingly written out by hand any more. More and more homes acquired one. More and more people learned to read so they could read their Bibles. More and more people started to get their own ideas about what the things in the Bible might mean. The church’s control was broken.

How Do People Use the Bible?

That is a little about how we got the Bible. Now let me talk about how people use it. There is a wide variety of beliefs in the Christian spectrum about what the book is and how it should be read and used. Some denominations, like the Roman Catholics, Orthodox and Episcopal churches say that the Bible has equal weight with church tradition and dogma. What the Pope says has the same weight as what St. Paul says. Other Protestant traditions, coming out of the Reformation, used as their slogan “Only Scripture.” Church tradition and church leaders’ pronouncements had no weight, only the words of the bible.

If it’s going to be that important, though, you’ve got some problems. If you are living your life by this book, what do you do about internal contradictions? Translation problems? Interpretation problems? Some people, on the fundamentalist end of the spectrum, stand on a belief in “Biblical Inerrancy.” That means there are no mistakes in the whole Bible. They say that the Bible is “the inspired word of God.” “Inspired,” in this case, means that God verbally gave each word to the folks who wrote them down. So you can say about something in the Bible: “God said it, I believe it. That settles it.”

In the middle of the spectrum there are people who believe that it was the authors who were inspired, not the words. The general gist of the writings is from God, rather than each and every word. So if there is a mistake or two it’s less of a big deal. People in the middle of the spectrum can feel more comfortable if women are wearing pants and makeup, even though parts of the Bible forbid that. They are willing to concede that parts of the writings are influenced by the culture and times of the writers, and are therefore less weighty as guides for life than other parts which seem less bound by time and culture. On the other end of the interpretive continuum are people who feel that most everything in the Bible is heavily influenced by the time and culture in which it was written, and that we should read it like we would read the Hindu and Buddhist scriptures, with reverence and interest and appreciation, looking for concepts and phrases that inspire us. In that system, the reader is the one who is inspired to see meaning in the text.

If we want to see meaning in the text we can ask ourselves what the writers meant when they wrote it. To whom was it written? What did it mean then? We have lots of cultural overlays that keep us from seeing what’s there. One example of that is the story of Adam and Eve. Women have been portrayed as temptresses for thousands of years because of that story. If you read the story in the 2nd chapter of Genesis, though, you will be hard pressed to find any tempting of Adam by Eve.

Another story where knowing the cultural context makes the story make more sense in is the New Testament story of the woman who has had a flow of blood for twelve years. She touched the hem of Jesus’s garment, and then when he turned around and asked “Who touched me?” she was afraid. Why? Because in those days, when a woman had a flow of blood, it made her ritually unclean. She couldn’t touch anyone in her family, she couldn’t touch any dishes. If someone sat after her on a chair they instantly became unclean also. That meant they had to take a day-long series of baths to get ritually clean again. Jesus was on his way to the home of an important person, because he was needed to heal sickness in that house. When she touched him and he found out, she was afraid because she had just made the rabbi ritually unclean and delayed him in his journey.

Another instance where a whole story has been altered by cultural misunderstanding is the Christmas story. Many of us hear year after year about how Mary and Joseph came to Bethlehem and there was no room in the inn, so they had to move into a stable for the night and Jesus was laid in a manger. All the actual text in Luke says is that Jesus was born in Bethlehem and laid in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn. A Bible scholar who has lived among the Palestinian people his whole life says that there is a good word for the hotel type of inn, and that is not the word the author uses. The word translated as “inn” would be better translated as “guest room.” In houses in the middle east back then the animals came in for the night to the same house the family used. The family stayed on a raised platform, while the animals slept on the ground level. Their mangers were around the family area. Someone with family in a town, like Joseph had in Bethlehem, would never have been allowed to stay at an inn. That would have been a disgrace on the hospitality of his family. They would have stayed with an aunt or a cousin. Since the census was being taken, though, and since the whole family was in town at once, the guest rooms were full so they had to sleep in the equivalent of the living room, putting the new baby in one of the mangers that stood on the edge of the family’s living area. It presents quite a different picture, doesn’t it? Much warmer, surrounded by family.

The Bible is a book with truth and meaning, but it is not the only one. It is a book of sacred stories, re-tellings of human interaction with the Divine. We all have a story of our lives, a story of how things happen to us. Some of our lives have miracle stories, stories of coincidences that change the course of things, stories of descending into the deepest wilderness and coming out again, stories of losing our connection with the Source and then finding it again.

I believe we are given many sacred texts, including drama, music, poetry and art. Our own lives are also given to us for study as sacred text. Our experience of life and God is as weighty as inspired writings. In books we study the story of other people’s interaction with their own longing, pride, greed, generosity, bravery, cowardice, and with the Divine. We are all also living stories, seeing those same elements interwoven in the lives we lead. Things can look different if we see them as being in the middle of a sacred story. Not all sacred stories are “nice” stories. They are not all happy stories. But they have power and meaning. I invite you to look at your life as a sacred story – where have you wrestled with the dark? Where have you glimpsed the light? What do you know from experience, not only from being told? It is difficult to pay attention, but that is what we are called to do. As the Talmud says, “If you’re sitting in a window, and you see God pass by, go sit in that window again.”


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

Guest at Your Table Kickoff

Rev. Marisol Caballero
November 24, 2013

We celebrate gratitude by engaging in generosity! The Unitarian Universalist Service Committee’s annual “Guest at Your Table” campaign kicks off this Sunday and continues through December. We learn about opportunities to support grassroots programs and organizers who are working to bring peace, justice, and compassion to communities worldwide.


 

Reading: “Declaration of Interdependence”
by Melanie Bacon

We hold these truths to be self-evident:

That all life is interconnected, and endowed by our Creator with certain inalienable rights and responsibilities,

That among these are presence, compassion, and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights and responsibilities,

We open our minds and hearts to the needs of others, and our own true needs, We hear the sound of the living universe in our ears, and add our voices to the song, We live every moment with awareness of the purity and power of existence.

And for the support of this Declaration, we pledge to each other our love and our breath,

For the freedom of the one is the freedom of the all, and the pain of the one is the pain of the all;

The breath of the one is the breath of the all, and the breath of the all is the breath of God.

Prayer/Meditation

Spirit of Love,

Of families, of friends,

Wrap us in the warmth of our interdependence on this cold morning, As we cannot help but shiver, too

When some don’t have homes or heat on such chilly nights.

Despite our turkey and stuffing, Our bellies cannot help but ache, too When many go hungry.

Even as some rejoice in sweet reunions, We hold in our hearts those, Among us and unknown to us,

For whom the holidays are a time of great sadness

Due to distance, poverty, grief, absence of familial acceptance, or depression. God of many names, Protect all who travel.

Fill us with gratitude, hope, and love.

Amen.

Sermon: Guest at Your Table Kickoff

My earliest memory of what could be considered an international, intercultural exchange happened when I was just four years old. We had just moved from San Antonio to Alpine, TX, where my mother enrolled in Sul Ross State University after my parents’ divorce. We were living in these little white, crumbling cottages alongside the freeway that headed into town. They’ve long since been condemned and torn down. I was what our friends we stayed with in Africa last month called a “moveous” child, meaning I didn’t stay put very often.

I quickly made friends with another little girl, around my same age, who lived several cottages down. She told me that she was from “EgyptandKuwait,” just like that, as if it were one word. It sounded like a magical land because her house always smelled like smells I’d never smelled before, her mother worse a loose scarf, draped elegantly around her head and shoulders, and her dad, a geology student at the university, sometimes wore what looked like a dress over his pants.

They were cool. One day, I woke up; finished my frosted flakes with record-speed, got dressed, and ran to see if my new friend could come outside to play, only to discover that her whole family was still eating breakfast. They invited me in and I joined them on the floor, where they had spread newspapers out, and were eating a feast like I hadn’t ever seen! They had chicken drumsticks, rice, veggies, hot, freshbaked flat bread, and all before lOam! They were so cool. I often got a second breakfast before I ever knew what a Hobbit was. And often, my mom was none the wiser.

Since then, I have had the honor and pleasure, in various settings, of breaking bread with many people from various parts of the world and who have come from various circumstances. There is something about sharing a meal with someone that allows for a deeper understanding of our shared humanity.

Today, we are kicking off our Guest at Your Table program, which will run through the end of December. Many of you know about this program already. This congregation has participated in it every year for a while now. Many more of you do not, as this has been mainly a project of Sunday School children and their families, in years past. This year, we hope to get the whole congregation involved!

As great as it would be to actually host an international peaceworker at your dinner table, I should let you know, up front, that no one is actually coming to sit at your table as part of this program. Each year, the symbolic guests at your tabie are four individuals or grassroots organizations, vetted and chosen by the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee (UUSC), that work to further the “spirit of gratitude and justice, equity, and compassion in human relations” that the UUSC promotes. This year, the UUSC has chosen to work with and feature four people who are all working to empower others to recognize and work toward their own basic human rights.

The way the program works is simple: a small bank is set on the dining table and, each time there is a meal in the house, a donation (no matter how small) is placed into the bank, as if an extra meal has heen paid for. At the end of December, the banks are returned to the church and the collected money is sent to the UUSC, who continues to work with and financially contributes to our four “guests.”

With prior campaigns, the UUSC sent each participating congregation colorful cardboard banks that featured pictures of each of the peacemakers on the sides. This year, for the first time, in an effort to be more environmentally conscious, the organization has decided not to print any more such boxes. Instead, folks are encouraged to be creative in acquiring their loose change receptacles. So, in that spirit, our children have taken up that challenge and have repurposed water bottles to create not-your-average piggy banks! We have doggie banks, and froggy banks, and flamingo banks… all for fifty cents each. In fact, I’m not sure that we actually had many piggy banks made, come to think of it. To invite one of our guests to your table, you may purchase one of these wonderful works of art and imagination at the Lifespan Religious Ed. Table after church. The whopping proceeds will benefit the Children’s Religious Education Fund. Or, you may choose to use an old coffee can or a mason jar for your table, something less animalistic.

It’s a great program that can provide wonderful fodder for not your normal, everyday dinner conversation. Unless your household is anything like mine, in which Erin asked me the other evening, “Can we have one night without talking about conquest!?”

I would like to introduce you to one of your dinner guests and their work. In the pamphlet, Stories of Hope, available at the Lifespan RE table after service, we learn about Danielle Neus who, through her organization, the Bright Educators of Delmas (GEAD), is teaching people in the most devastated areas of Port-au-Prince, Haiti how to grow personal gardens in recycled tires. Haiti has a plentitude of garbage, such as discarded tires. What it doesn’t have, however, is easy access to affordable, healthy food.

“Their initial project trained 60 families to make tire gardens, which allowed them to grow cabbages, eggplants, spinach, and other food that’s healthy to eat and valuable to sell. And GEAD uses popular education, which invites Haitians to work together – to learn from each other, combine their resources, and find solutions that benefit the entire community. Danielle shares the GEAD motto: “We are all one, we remain one, and we will die one.”

Danielle says that, in order to achieve common goals, honest communication is everything. The group that started GEAD finds success because each member is able to speak freely about their dreams and their fears. She believes that community members must talk openly and work together, because they may all have the same goals and never know it if they don’t speak up.

The next step for GEAD is to open its own training center in the city, so that they can train more families at a faster rate. It would also allow GEAD to locally produce compost, a vital material that currently must be brought in from the countryside. Danielle believes that providing training for youth is especially important, because moving communities forward is a responsibility shared by every generation. Her goal is not just to teach her fellow Haitians to plant seeds and grow food, but also to plant the seeds of community organizing and empowerment so people may rebuild their lives.”

Please pick up a copy of “Stories of Hope” or download it from the UUSC website to learn more about: Nelson Escobar, who came to the United States from El Salvador as an asylum-seeker, only to discover, first-hand, oppressive working conditions. “Nelson now helps others to overcome barriers, learn about their rights, and access support from workers’ centers and other organizations.” “Malya Villard-Appolon works to end gender-based violence in Haiti and provides support to survivors. Malya is educating and empowering women to know their legal rights and to talk to one another to create safer communities.” George Friday trained in community organizing and began building coalitions as a teen and now helps people realize the strength of their combined voices and “the value of their grassroots knowledge and expertise.”

Around the time that I was discovering that Chicanos didn’t own the monopoly on delicious breakfast food, (chicken drumsticks for breakfast does rival chorizo and eggs), I was also being taught the importance of neighbors by a Mr. Rev. Fred Rogers. He stood in my TV and asked me daily, through song, if I would please be his neighbor and he modeled how to be a good neighbor. It was not until adulthood, upon learning more about Mr. Rogers, that I realized he probably wasn’t only talking about your friends who live next door when he spoke of “neighbors.” This Presbyterian minister was speaking of being a neighbor, of “neighbor” as a verb –neighboring.

Mark 12:28
And one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, asked him, “Which commandment is the most important of all?”

Jesus answered, “The most important is, ‘Hear, 0 Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.

And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’

The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Mr. Rogers continues to teach us, as this quote grew viral after the Sandy Hook shooting, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

Our neighbors might live across the street, across the country, or across the world. Who are the helpers?

This week, we recognized the fiftieth anniversary of the death of another prophetic soul who taught us about this type of neighboring. In his famous inaugural speech, President John F. Kennedy reminded us that, “With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking his blessing and his help, but knowing that here on earth, God’s work must truly be our own.”

We declare our interdependence. We must be the neighbors. We must be the helpers. Sometimes, we must be the guests at someone’s table. Always, we are God’s hands.


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

A Juicy Slice of UU History: The Iowa Sisterhood

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
November 17, 2013

The Universalists were among the first denominations to ordain women. These women had a picture of how church should be that differed somewhat from their colleagues of the time.


 

The Call to Worship
by Olympia Brown

Dear Friends, stand by this faith…. Work for it and sacrifice for it…. There is nothing in all the world so important to you as to be loyal to this faith… which has placed before you the loftiest ideals,… which has comforted you in sorrow, strengthened you for noble duty and made the world beautiful for you…. Do not demand immediate results… but rejoice that you are worthy to be entrusted with this great message… and rejoice that you are strong enough to work for a great true principle without counting the cost…. Go on finding ever new applications of these truths and new enjoyments in their contemplation.

Meditation Reading
by Olympia Brown, written 130 years ago

Every nation must learn that the people of all nations are children of God and must share the wealth of the world…. You may say this is impracticable, far away, can never be accomplished,… but it is the work we are appointed to do…. Sometime, somehow, somewhere,… we must ever teach this great lesson.

Sermon: The Iowa Sisterhood

Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love.

The Iowa Sisterhood is a story from the later part of the 180Os, from the Midwestern Unitarian churches.

In the Unitarian Universalist Association (what we call the UUA) today, half of our ministers are women. The beginnings of this are in the Midwestern women ministers of the late 1800s.

The Iowa Sisterhood was an informal network of 20-25 women ministers, who at one time held every major office in the Western Unitarian Conference, including President. They shaped liberal religion in the Midwest, designing and building churches to look like houses, each with a large fireplace in it, to make it more like a home. They organized over 20 churches from Iowa to Colorado, preached a radical theology that would stir controversy in most churches even today, and poured out their lives for the cause of liberal religion and womens suffrage. They read William Ellery Channing, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Theodore Parker. Their heroes were Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine, Antoinette Brown Blackwell and Olympia Brown, the first women who were ordained in 1852, around the time most of these women were born.

In a book called Prophetic Sisterhood, author Cynthia Grant Tucker explains, they believed:

God had created the universe to run by natural laws and did not perform miracles, or intervene in people’s daily lives and that nothing was served by believing in Christ’s divinity, people’s corruption, or the Bible’s status as divine revelation.

They were, for that time, shockingly liberal compared to the more Christian tenor of the New England Unitarian’s.

Why did they emerge in Iowa? The two women who started the whole thing wee Mary Safford and Eleanor Gordon. They grew up on farms near to one another, around Hamilton, Iowa, and they were friends. The year they were born, as I said, was the year the first woman ministers in the US were ordained. In the mid-1870s, when both were in their early twenties, these two young women, sitting under an old apple tree, pledged to one another that “they would spend their lives together serving the world as a team.” Their commitment began a life-Iong devotion to their joint work and to each other. The last church they founded together was in Orlando FL in the 1920s.

Together, with the help of a nearby Unitarian minister, Oscar Clute, they organized a church in Hamilton. The success of their church attracted the attention of Jenkin Lloyd Jones, then the secretary of the Western Unitarian Conference. Jones was a radical man who was an irritant to the Unitarian Association in Boston because he pushed to separate liberal religion from its Christian roots. He felt that labeling Unitarianism as broadly Christian was too limiting, that free religion was what Unitarian had best to offer. Jones became the mentor of the women ministers, participated in their ordinations and encouraged them to recruit more women. His status before he left the American Unitarian Association, helped them, and his time and attention fueled their ministries.

In 1880 he offered Mary Safford the pastorate of the church in Humbolt Iowa. This is the time when Thomas Edison was starting his company and installing electric lights on streets and in homes. Gordon arranged to become principal of the school there, so she and Safford were able to continue working in tandem.

Some non-Unitarian members of the Board of Education were alert for evidence that their principal was teaching evolution, which they considered to a Unitarian doctrine. When Gordon told her physiology class that the opposable thumb made possible the arts of civilization, a Board member reported her. Asked to explain herself; she invited her opponent to have his thumbs immobilized for a day. “If at night he does not agree with me I will be glad to discuss the matter with him.” Her challenge was not accepted and the matter was dropped.

After a few years she became discontent with teaching, and Jones encouraged her to pursue studies for the ministry. If you will, you can, he said to her. Together, Safford and Gordon ministered in churches through out the Midwest, taking an interest In any young women who wished to advance themselves through education, often helping them financially. They brought several women into the ministry, feeling that women, especially if they were willing to remain unmarried, thus letting go of the competing responsibilities of a family, were well suited to be ministers.

Partly, the women succeeded in that time because they cast the ministry as a sensible extension of women’s roles. They spoke of themselves as “mothers of congregations who were making good homes for their families by using not only their sympathies but also their mental powers, business acumen, and understanding of world affairs beyond the kitchen and the nursery. If the conception of ministry as religious housewifery made the male clergy worry about being lesser men, it offered their sisters a change to aggrandize their womanhood by elevating the sphere that had been theirs historically.” (Tucker)

For several decades in the Western Unitarian Conference, a division had been developing between those who thought Unitarians should be identified as “broadly Christian” and Jenkin Lloyd Jones and “the Unity men,” who thought any profession unnecessarily exclusive. Believing that radical, rather than traditional, Unitaria nism offered the best hope for the advancement of women In the affairs of religion and feeling that there ought not to be a “copy-right on the word Unitarian,” at the 1886 WUC convention Gordon and other members of the Iowa Sisterhood helped defeat a motion that would have committed their movement to a liberal Christian formula. Abiel Livermore, the president of Meadville Seminary, later charged that “a company of women” had ruined the WUC. This struggle went on for years. It is still going, actually. The women did not join Jones when he split off from the Unitarian Association, though, after a vote to keep the Unitarians under the banner of the religion of Jesus.

Along with their religious voice, many of the women found their political voice as well. The group had the textbook disagreements about the ways to make change happen. Early in Eleanor Gordon’s career she had advised women to wait for evolutionary social progress to bring them political equality. In 1907, after she became President of the Iowa Equal Suffrage Association, she became more militant. During her term she led a group of women who removed physical obstacles to ballot box access, started a campaign to pressure political candidates, and introduced parades and other confrontational tactics. This is the same dynamic found in civil right’s struggles both for African-Americans and for gays and lesbians. Some want to be more confrontational than others, who want to trust the system to change and evoIve. You need both kind of people, but that’s another sermon.

The story of these female ministers in the 19th century is full of courage and bravery but also of sorrow, defeat and bitterness. Not only did frontier parishioners face the problem of poverty, sickness and climate, but they were regarded as heretics of the worst kind by their orthodox neighbors, the Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, and Calvinist Congregationalists, all of whom had preceded them in the region. Non-Trinitarians were ostracized and persecuted; they were made the object of scorn at public revivals and had their businesses boycotted.(Tucker)

In 1870 there were only five female ministers in the United States. In 1890 there would be over 70 women of the approximately 101,640 Protestant clergy listed in the 1890 census. Of the seventy ordained women the Universalists had the largest number – 32; the Unitarians were next with 16 and the Methodists and Congregationalists combined for 15. After their years of service, it seems there was a feeling that, in that area, the women had taken over. Studies show that the main group feels an other group is taking over when it tops 20% of the whoIe.

Mary Safford suffered a breakdown from exhaustion. She and Eleanor Gordon had tensions in their relationship when folks gravitated more to Mary (in fact, there was a joke. What do Catholics and Unitarians have in common? They both worship the Virgin Mary. Sometimes Gordon was treated like a parish associate, sometimes her work, writing, her ideas were attributed to Mary. They suffered the scorn, not only of the non-Unitarians in their communities, but that of the mainstream Unitarian church in Boston. Especially later on, after the First World War, there was a trend in the US toward the masculinization of society, which, it was felt, had not been manly enough. The Unitarian publication, on its masthead, promised a virile religion. I can imagine ho w the women ministers felt about that. Maybe all that had to be in balance for giving women the vote. The pulpits that had been filled by women were now filled with men. Teddy Roosevelt, the rough rider, the cowboy, was elected, as he embodied all those qualities.

The last church Safford and Gordon founded was In Orlando, Florida, where Gordon served as its minister from 1910-27. They are both buried in Hamilton, Iowa.

Safford said that “true religion must first of all be ‘free’ religion, free from irrational dogma that discouraged personal growth.” She held that the human soul would evolve, not in solitude but, through community. That is what church is for. People make their common tasks divine “by doing them in the spirit of love and helpfulness.” May we make our common tasks divine. May our struggles for civil rights be divine. May we learn the perspective that comes from seeing our struggles In the broad stream of history. May we all be mothers of children, mothers of causes, mothers of our community. They had a hard road, and it wasn’t always a happy road. They did what they set out to do, but they didn’t see how much their influence undergirds our current situation. People wonder about their purpose in life, and sometimes they know, but they wonder if they accomplished that purpose. These women were successful in changing the UUA.


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

 

Dismantling Racism

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
November 10, 2013

Racism is deep in the human DNA. Most peoples of the world have some other people they paint as lazy, oversexed, untrustworthy and stupid. Is there a way to heal that in ourselves?


 

Call to Worship

What we’ve started
by Betty Bobo Seiden

We are here today because we want our religious journey to include more than one holy land, more than one vision, more than one scripture….

We sing praises in many styles and in many languages.

We make a joyful noise unto whomever nourishes and sustains all life.

When we look around us here today we see the beauty of diversity – people of various sizes and shapes, heads of different colors and textures. We see an age span of several generations. We are aware of personality differences, of differences in perspective, of ancestors who represent every continent of our world.

Come let us celebrate our diversity. Come let us worship together.

Reading:

Exerpt from It’s Hard Work
by Rosemary Bray McNatt

… The truth is this: If there is no justice, there will be no peace. We can read Thoreau and Emerson to one another, quote Rilke and Alice Walker and Howard Thurman, and think good and noble thoughts about ourselves. But if we cannot bring justice into the small circle of our own individual lives, we cannot hope to bring justice to the world. And if we do not bring justice to the world, none of us is safe and none of us will survive. Nothing that Unitarian Universalists need to do is more important than making justice real – here, where we are. Hard as diversity is, it is our most important task.

Sermon: Dismantling Racism

It’s important to me to talk about racism. I don’t like to do it. One of the nice things about being white is that I really don’t have to think about it if I don’t want to. White is the norm. If I say “there were these two guys walking down the street,” you’ll probably picture white guys. Otherwise I would have said “there were these two black guys walking down the street.” Or “there were these two Asian guys walking down the street.” Dr. Thandeka, a professor at Meadville Lombard, a UU seminary in Chicago, asks her students to play the “race game.” All it involves is identifying people as white too. So you say “It’s that white woman over there.” Instead of just “it’s that woman over there.” Doing that, feeling its awkwardness in white company, brings it home how much whiteness is still the norm in this culture. I don’t have to feel guilty about it. It’s not my fault. I do need to be aware of it, though, if I want to be a smart person. I watch the news and I’m grateful that I could go into Barney’s in NYC and buy an expensive designer handbag, and security would not grab me outside the store and handcuff me while they check to see if debit card was legit. I could be driving out in the country at night and notice a pickup truck with a confederate flag on the front bumper behind me and have good odds that if I got into trouble, those fellows would stop and help me out.

I love watching BBC police shows, and I’m often struck by the differences in the behavior of the black police. I try to put my finger on it, but it’s hard to do. If any of you have noticed that, I would love for you to help me articulate what it is.

Peggy McIntosh is a professor of Women’s Studies at Wellesley College who turned her skills honed in looking at gender in our culture to looking at race. She began to write down things she noticed. Things she was able to do as a white woman. See what you think.

Peggy McIntosh

1. I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

2. I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to mistrust and who have learned to mistrust my kind or me.

3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live. 4. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.

5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.

6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.

7. When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.

8. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.

9. If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.

10. I can be pretty sure of having my voice heard in a group in which I am the only member of my race.

11. I can be casual about whether or not to listen to another person’s voice in a group in which s/he is the only member of his/her race.

12. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods which fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can cut my hair.

13. Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance of financial reliability. 14. I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.

15. I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.

16. I can be pretty sure that my children’s teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others’ attitudes toward their race.

17. I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my color.

18. I can swear, or dress in second hand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty or the illiteracy of my race.

19. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.

20. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.

21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.

22. I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of color who constitute the world’s majority without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.

23. I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behavior without being seen as a cultural outsider.

24. I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the “person in charge”, I will be facing a person of my race.

25. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

26. I can easily buy posters, post-cards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.

27. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance or feared.

28. I can be pretty sure that an argument with a colleague of another race is more likely to jeopardize her/his chances for advancement than to jeopardize mine.

29. I can be pretty sure that if I argue for the promotion of a person of another race, or a program centering on race, this is not likely to cost me heavily within my present setting, even if my colleagues disagree with me.

30. If I declare there is a racial issue at hand, or there isn’t a racial issue at hand, my race will lend me more credibility for either position than a person of color will have.

31. I can choose to ignore developments in minority writing and minority activist programs, or disparage them, or learn from them, but in any case, I can find ways to be more or less protected from negative consequences of any of these choices.

32. My culture gives me little fear about ignoring the perspectives and powers of people of other races.

33. I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.

34. I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.

35. I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.

36. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it had racial overtones.

37. I can be pretty sure of finding people who would be willing to talk with me and advise me about my next steps, professionally.

38. I can think over many options, social, political, imaginative or professional, without asking whether a person of my race would be accepted or allowed to do what I want to do.

39. I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.

40. I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.

41. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.

42. I can arrange my activities so that I will never have to experience feelings of rejection owing to my race.

43. If I have low credibility as a leader I can be sure that my race is not the problem.

44. I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.

45. I can expect figurative language and imagery in all of the arts to testify to experiences of my race.

46. I can chose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.

47. I can travel alone or with my spouse without expecting embarrassment or hostility in those who deal with us.

48. I have no difficulty finding neighborhoods where people approve of our household.

49. My children are given texts and classes which implicitly support our kind of family unit and do not turn them against my choice of domestic partnership.

50. I will feel welcomed and “normal” in the usual walks of public life, institutional and social.

She talks about her whiteness as granting her an invisible backpack full of visas, tools, maps, and codes that she can pull out as needed to make her way in the world. I thought that was interesting, as I had been raised to think that people of color were disadvantaged in that they didn’t have these normal things. I was not raised to consider that I might be over empowered by my whiteness, so that if I stay oblivious to it I might be doing damage.

Peggy McIntosh is associate director of the Wellesley Collage Center for Research on Women. This essay is excerpted from Working Paper 189. “White Privilege and Male Privilege: A Personal Account of Coming To See Correspondences through Work in Women’s Studies” (1988), by Peggy McIntosh; available for $10.00 from the Wellesley College Center for Research on Women, Wellesley MA 02181 The working paper contains a longer list of privileges.

This excerpted essay is reprinted from the Winter 1990 issue of Independent School.

John Scalzi is a sci-fi fantasy author who talked about it this way in his blog “Whatever.” Since I never did role-playing games, I had to look up a few terms.

Dudes. Imagine life here in the US – or indeed, pretty much anywhere in the Western world – is a massive role playing game, like World of Warcraft except appallingly mundane, where most quests involve the acquisition of money, cell phones and donuts, although not always at the same time. Let’s call it The Real World. You have installed The Real World on your computer and are about to start playing, but first you go to the settings tab to bind your keys, fiddle with your defaults, and choose the difficulty setting for the game. Got it?

Okay: In the role playing game known as The Real World, “Straight White Male” is the lowest difficulty setting there is.

This means that the default behaviors for almost all the non-player characters in the game are easier on you than they would be otherwise. The default barriers for completions of quests are lower. Your leveling-up thresholds come more quickly. You automatically gain entry to some parts of the map that others have to work for. The game is easier to play, automatically, and when you need help, by default it’s easier to get.

Now, once you’ve selected the “Straight White Male” difficulty setting, you still have to create a character, and how many points you get to start – and how they are apportioned – will make a difference. Initially the computer will tell you how many points you get and how they are divided up. If you start with 25 points, and your dump stat is wealth, well, then you may be kind of screwed. If you start with 250 points and your dump stat is charisma, well, then you’re probably fine. Be aware the computer makes it difficult to start with more than 30 points; people on higher difficulty settings generally start with even fewer than that.

As the game progresses, your goal is to gain points, apportion them wisely, and level up. If you start with fewer points and fewer of them in critical stat categories, or choose poorly regarding the skills you decide to level up on, then the game will still be difficult for you. But because you’re playing on the “Straight White Male” setting, gaining points and leveling up will still by default be easier, all other things being equal, than for another player using a higher difficulty setting.

Likewise, it’s certainly possible someone playing at a higher difficulty setting is progressing more quickly than you are, because they had more points initially given to them by the computer and/or their highest stats are wealth, intelligence and constitution and/or simply because they play the game better than you do. It doesn’t change the fact you are still playing on the lowest difficulty setting.

You can lose playing on the lowest difficulty setting. The lowest difficulty setting is still the easiest setting to win on. The player who plays on the “Gay Minority Female” setting? Hardcore.

– Blog: “Whatever”

There is a lot I don’t understand about racism. If I were to talk about all the things I don’t know, we would be here a lot longer than y’all want to be, so I will talk about some of the things I do know. I know that every group on earth is racist about some other group. Here is what they all say:” They are dirty and lazy. They don’t want to work. They are over emotional and their religion is strange. Their brains are smaller– they just can’t think the way we do, so they are better at hands-on work — as long as you tell them exactly what to do. They will hurt children and women.” Who is that talking? It’s the Japanese talking about Koreans, whom they traditionally have despised.

It’s the he Northern Italians talking about the Southern Italians, whose skin is darker than theirs. The Northern Indians hate the Southern Tamil Indians, whose skin is darker. In Sri Lanka the Tamils hate the Singhalese. Moslems and Hindus slaughtered each other in 1947, as Pakistan and Bangladesh were being partitioned off from India. More than a million Hindus and Muslims were killed during the partition. Malaysians hate the Chinese. The Serbs hate the Croats. The Czechs hate the Slovaks. In Africa, the Hutus hate the Tutsis and slaughter each other. Right now the Tutsis are in power, but that will change, as it has before. In Nigeria the Hausa hate the Ibo. Sunni and Shiite Moslems war with one another in Iraq. In Syria, there are families and clans that hate each other. In Darfur, in the Sudan, the Arab-identifying Muslim nomadic Sudanese are slaughtering the non-Arab identifying Muslim sedentary Sudanese. The Israelis hate the Arabs. Will it always be this way? What has to change?

The Arabs have a proverb: “Me and my cousin against the world. Me and my brother against my cousin.”

Racism is a global dynamic between people. Here is another thing. It’s more comfortable to think of racism as mean things individuals to do other individuals. Less comfortable to think about how the whole culture has been fixed, over time, to benefit the people who are in power.

European Americans have had most of the power in the economy and the government. We also have tremendous power in the schools and the service industries. Our first black president is experiencing a tremendous resistance and outrage from the powers, and it’s interesting to ponder how much of that is because of his race.

None of us in here wants to be racist. We don’t like to think of ourselves that way. But most of us do participate unthinkingly in white privilege. This is not something to wallow in guilt about. Wallowing in guilt makes you stupid and drains your energy. You don’t think well. You don’t want to face the people who don’t have the privileges you do.

White privilege is something to notice. This is not something non white people can or should have to help white people with. This is white people’s responsibility. In our UU churches, bless our hearts, it is not uncommon for the people of color who come in our doors to be approached about being on the anti-racism committee. It happens sometimes that when a black person joins the choir, suddenly the repertoire changes to include more gospel songs, even if that particular black person prefers classical, folk, or country. Dr. King had a dream that people might someday be judged by the content of their character. Let us work to be that change in the world, and judge one another that way, and let us make our own characters so real and kind that when we are judged that way, we won’t be found wanting.

Dr. King said in his “I have a dream” speech “we shall hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.” The racism in our world certainly could weigh on a person like a mountain of despair.

I have thought a lot about despair and hope. I’ve been wondering about that image of a stone of hope. It comes from the mountain of despair, so it’s made of the same stuff. How can that be?

The thing that despair and hope have in common is the vision of a better future. A necessary component of despair is knowing that things aren’t what they should be. To feel that, you need a vision of what things should be. Despair is when the vision of what should be combines with the weight of what is and threatens to overwhelm you. You can’t see how to get there. You can’t believe things will ever be better. Despair is giving up. The antidote to despair is that we just take a little piece of that mountain, and the piece we take is the vision of how things could be.

We all know that, if all you have is a sense of how things should be, you can be one miserable human being. In ancient Greek mythology, when Pandora opened the container and let all the evils fly out into the world, she slammed the lid shut with just one left inside. What was it? Hope. What was hope doing among the evils of the world? Hesiod said it was because hope is empty and no good, and it takes away people’s industriousness. Friedrich Nietzsche said ” Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torments of man.” Yes, hoping without action is foolish, if an action can be taken.

Rita Mae Brown says “Never hope more than you work.” That’s what those people in Ohio were doing. Hoping and working. That’s what the people who believed in Dr. King’s vision did. They held the vision and they worked.

Maybe stone is just the right material for hope. Dr. King did not say “Out of the mountain of despairs we mine a jewel of hope.” It is not something rare and precious we find within the despair, covered, held and hidden in there. Maybe stone is just the right value for hope. Stone is ancient, far more ancient than humanity, and it’s everywhere. It’s common. We can lose hope over and over and just pick up more anywhere. You can throw hope away in a fit of rage and loss of spirit, then just hack yourself off another piece. Maybe stone is just the right hardness for hope too. Hope has to be tough. One of my friends said at a twelve step meeting her sponsor handed her a stone and said, “Any time you feel like taking a drink, put this in your mouth. When it dissolves, go ahead and have a drink.”

We hold on to our hope. Find yours, and live with it in your pocket, in the palm of your hand. What do you hope for? We hope, and we do what we can do make things better. We reach out to friends, we pray, we meditate, we open our hearts to joyful events and sorrowful ones. We hope for ourselves, we hope for one another, we hope for this church, and we hope for our country.


 

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776