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

Creating Community

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
November 3, 2013

What kinds of things can we do to strengthen our community? Conversation, shared tasks, vulnerability, sacrifice, these are some of the elements of strong community. What makes a church a community for the people who belong to it?


 

How do you prepare for hard times? How do you protect your life against times when the rain dries up and the wind blows hard and everything is brittle and easily broken? When nourishment is hard to find and you aren’t sure you can face what’s coming next? If you are in that situation literally, what you need is to have a good deep well, a well that reaches way down to where there is nearly always water. Last month we had water communion, where we mingled our lives together by pouring water into the common bowl, talking about the places that fed our souls. Water is the basis for all life. Everything that breathes is largely made of water and needs water to live.

The poet Bryon says: “Til taught by pain, [we] really know not what good water is worth.” – Don Juan

On Friday we had a memorial service for Jenny Malin. She was rich in friends. Some of those friends were from her chalice circle here at First UU.

When we are in pain, or just in a long dry spell. Those things that sustain us – we don’t know what they are worth until we are in trouble. We need connections with people, friends, people who know not only our name but what moves us, what hurts us, what we love. Being here in this church community is a way of making connections, but Sunday morning is a time when having a conversation of any depth is hard.

One of the good opportunities here for building deep connections with people is our small group program – we call them Chalice Circles. In our Chalice Circles we talk together with 4-12 other people about big questions like

“What is an example of grace in your life?
When have you experienced a heartfelt truth, and how did it change your life?
What about your daily work do you find nourishing?
What is the meaning of life?
Why do we need religion?
Why evil?
How do we know what we know?
How can we face death?
Why do we suffer?
What does it mean to be human?”

The lessons have a structure for the purposes of sustainability and fairness. The format give us a way of structuring our interactions so that all of us, the quiet ones as well as the verbally quick, may be heard and made to feel a part of the whole. There is an opening reading. This is one from the topic of Listening:

I like to talk with you.

I like the way I feel
when you are listening
as if we were exploring
something in ourselves:

The plunge into a silence
and how you come up with words
I tried to find:

The otherness about us which makes
conversation possible.

When I talk with you,
the give turns into take
and borrow into lend.

Now and then, a phrase from you
will kindle like a shooting star;
the mornings in you rouse me from a sleep.

I like the babble and the banter when I greet you
at the door,
and when the room is filled with guests,
your quiet look,

as if there were a secret between us
of which nobody knows.

– from Raymond Baughan

After the opening reading, everyone briefly checks in, saying a few words about how they are that week. Then a bowl is passed around with lots of slips of paper with readings on them having to do with the topic of that lesson: forgiveness, hands, failure, hope, patriotism, views of God. After they are read, there are a few questions posed in the lesson. Participants choose one question or a few questions and talk about them in a time of sharing. Everyone gets a chance to talk, and no one interrupts or talks back to you or even asks you a question.

When you are through, they say “thank you.” That helps shy people feel safer sometimes. When everyone is through with what they wanted to say about the questions, there is a time of silence, where people just breathe together for a moment or two. Then the discussion starts, when you can comment on what someone said, ask questions, say what came to your mind as they were speaking.

There is a covenant of respectful behavior that is followed. Each group works out a covenant of how they want to be together, so there is kindness in the discussion, support, so no one person dominates the group. A facilitator is there to remind people of that, to hold the covenants in mind like a container for the group.

When the discussion is done, there is a check-out time. We usually say “How do you want us to hold you in mind this month?” It’s a way of getting to know and trust a few people you may never have otherwise had in your life. Another bonding experience is the service the Chalice Circles promise to perform together. One group painted the women’s restroom by the offices. Some might help set up or clean up after big events.

In order not to form cliques, the groups run for a year and then re-form, to keep attention on the fact that there are always more people who may want to be there, and that the groups will grow and change. Chalice circles are one way in which First UU is hospitable to people by welcoming them in to a space of friendship and conversation.

In the UU tradition, we believe in ongoing revelation. Everything that is knowable about the world, about the human being, about the truth, about the Spirit, about ourselves, about one another, is out there, still to be found out, still to be revealed. We believe that there is tremendous wisdom and beauty in the scriptures of the great religions of the world, but we believe the truth is still coming in, that it can evolve, that the story of each of our lives and the story of our lives together are as sacred as the story of the people of Israel or India. So the story of your life, the story of our lives together, is sacred scripture.

Dr. Thandeka, who teaches theology and culture at a UU seminary in Chicago called Meadville Lombard, says that it is in small groups that we practice the central ritual of our faith, the sacred act of being in right relationship with one another. She says that the power of people coming together to share their stories, to talk about ideas, to accomplish a service for others, that power is the central authority of our faith. I think that power is the water we use to quench our thirsty lives, and to quench the thirst in one another for being heard and known. In doing that, we help to put the world back together.


 

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