A Feast of Love

https://vimeo.com/508236508

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Bear W. Qolezcua
January 31, 2021
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

If you knew that your next meal was your last, what would you choose to eat? Imagine, instead, that we would sit around the long table of humanity and feast on the finest, most filling meal our souls could crave.

 


 

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Learn more about Beloved Community at this link. – The King Center

Call to Worship

Bron Carlson is the pen name of an American poet and short story writer. This is from a piece titled “I survived you: A letter to my mother.” One with whom we are all familiar.

…My friends have been parents to me, siblings, and even children to me in a way. They have been all the pieces of me that were missing, denied, painful to experience, or hoped for but not yet seen through. We love each other because we recognise that we each need it, there is no ‘deserve’, only an honouring of humanity within each other. We have fulfilled one another’s needs and hopes, we have shown up for each other, journeyed together, been through heartache and grief and joy and love and peace and loss and fear together. There is no need for common blood between us, nor should there be. Blood is not a cement that binds people together. MY family is bound inextricably through the finest threads that, when brought together, make the strongest ties. MY family chose me as much as I chose them and I never had to earn it, fear it, or hide myself from it. They are welcome at my table. Their love fills the scattered dishes and we are all filled by them…


Meditation Reading

We are all longing to go home to some place we have never been – a place half-remembered and half-envisioned we can only catch glimpses of from time to time. Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free.

-Starhawk

Sermon

One of my favourite Christian texts in the Bible is found in the book of 1 Corinthians 13: 1-8 (more or less). So, these verses they say “If I could speak any and every language of humanity and beyond but there is no love within me? Then anything I would say is nothing but noise, noise, noise.” The clanging of cymbals, the bashing of drums is how the Bible explains it.

“I could give away everything I own, sell it, give it to the poor. Give all my food to the hungry, my clothing to the naked. I could give up my very life for someone else. But if I do it with no love, if that place is not found within me. Then it means nothing. Love is patient, Love is kind. It has no jealousy, it is not arrogant. It has no ego and it does not inflate itself.

Love is not shameful. It is not selfish. It is not rude. Love does not demand that it gets its own way. It does not lash out. And it is absolutely not unapproachable.

Love doesn’t celebrate cruelty. It doesn’t celebrate injustice, or pain, or heartache. But only ever rejoices in true equity, in mercy, in goodness, humanity, and truth.

Every mystical gift, every power under the stars within this vast universe, every insight, or fact, or piece of wisdom that has ever been or ever will be will someday end. But love will endure far beyond. Songs will fade, stories will cease, and every good deed ever done will fall.

Even when all I am and all I have ever known is lost to history forever, three things will remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. And the most important, the most powerful, the most enduring, the greatest of these is love.”

A friend of mine put a post out that asked a sillyish quick question, that asked one of those “give me the first word off your head” just to engage the community he had built up there. He asked “if you knew your next meal was your last. What would you eat?”

I was in one of those moods where I chose to sit with the question and really consider it. I chewed on it until it had no flavour left and then I stuck it behind my ear for later. I wanted to think about the impact a last meal could make. 

 I’m pretty sure no one ever meant for those quick little questions to be anything remotely close to philosophical or theological. There I was, waxing toward the poetic and the philosophical and the theological. And I’m sure my friend was just absolutely thrilled to bits.

So, a feast of love. Taking in this never-ending source of power and goodness always leaves me both open to more love and also completely filled by it, so much that my own then pours out from me and into all the ones around me.

I cannot imagine a more generous gift we can give to one another than that.

I wrote about my illness in my early 20s that on good days I enjoyed things like chicken with lemon and garlic, or chili, or brisket, brussels sprouts, pumpkin, asparagus, beans, salads made from celery greens and fresh cucumbers. The food had very little to do with what was nourishing me, what was keeping me full and energetic enough to stick with it. To not just want to give up.

In those times, with my little extended families (and I had several), as I drifted in and out of consciousness or had to excuse myself… after a while everybody just kind of learned to leave me be and then pick up once I was back with them like nothing stopped. It became familiar. They knew what to watch for. To check on me. 

They were patient, they were kind, they were not selfish. They did not want their own way. They were, in my life, the embodiment of love. 

Uncomfortable and fearsome as those parts of my life were. They did teach me something. I don’t care what’s on my plate in the end. I don’t care and yet, I do. I do care.

What is served at the table for my feast of love matters the most of anything I will ever have. So far in this life I have learned to appreciate so much that has crossed my spiritual and physical plate. Things that had always brought comfort or, as I would learn, would bring it. But it was more where it came from and what came alongside it that fed me.

At my last meal, I would make sure I was completely surrounded by the people who have filled my heart so much more than I have ever needed to fill my belly. My feast took a long time in my life to be recognised and to share. And there have been times that I stepped away from the table because I couldn’t handle what was being served. But that meal comes from living a life full to the brim with the sweetest treats anyone could ever taste. The people I gathered to me.

The communities I am a part of.

The family I have created for myself.

They would be my honoured guests and they would be the last thing I would ever need in this lifetime.

Find your feast my Beloved, Beloved Community. Find your feast. If it is here in this community, good. Find it, enjoy it, and share it. If it is in some other group of souls, good. Find it, enjoy it, and share it. Wherever your table is set. Wherever you find yourself seated. Wherever that dinner bell is rung, go. Go to it! Celebrate it as much as you can, with as many people as you can, as fully and richly and deeply as you can. That table is set for YOU and it is yours to take in all that has been poured out there. Fill your cup to the brim. Let it overflow with the goodness, the peace, and the comfort, the contentment, the hope, and the communal sharing of all that is good and all that isn’t as good in this life. Joy and sorrow do exist together. But they are better shared. 

If there comes a time, and I truly hope there is, that you find that your table is so full you cannot contain what is on it… Don’t close anyone out. Don’t build higher walls, build a longer table. More seats, more people, more love. Let it flow. Celebrate your feast of love. Let it be the food that carries you through when you feel so hungry for something more. Let it be what fuels you through this life. 

Bon apétit.



 


 

Most sermons during the past 21 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Question Box Sermon

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

August 2, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Rev. Meg is back from her study break and starting off strong with sermon questions from a box. Join Rev. Meg as she answers your questions.


Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine on systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

Yuval Noah Harari

People throughout history worried that unless we put all our faith in some set of absolute answers, human society will crumble. In fact, modern history has demonstrated that a society of courageous people willing to admit ignorance and raise difficult questions is usually not just more prosperous but also more peaceful than societies in which everyone must unquestioningly accept a single answer. People afraid of losing their truth tend to be more violent than people who are used to looking at the world from several different viewpoints. Questions you cannot answer are usually far better for you than answers you cannot question.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Learn more about Beloved Community at this link. – The King Center

Meditation Reading

Rainer Maria Rilke

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.

Sermon

Text of this service is not yet available.


Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Stoic Spiritual Survival

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Lee Legault, Ministerial Intern
July 19, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Stoics were warriors of the mind who trained to build unbreakable will and character. Roman emperors, enslaved persons, and Vietnam POWs alike have dealt with challenges using Stoic techniques. What might we learn about surviving in this day and age from the ancient mindset of the Stoics? Are your habits helping you build your Inner Citadel, and do you even want one?


Chalice Lighting

This is the flame of our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine on systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

LABYRINTH
By Leslie Takahashi

Walk the maze
within your heart: guide your steps into its questioning curves.
This labyrinth is a puzzle leading you deeper into your own truths.
Listen in the twists and turns.
Listen in the openness within all searching.
Listen: a wisdom within you calls to a wisdom beyond you and in that dialogue lies peace.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Meditation Reading

INVICTUS
William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Sermon

The other night, as I was getting ready for bed, I broke two of my persona! rules for spiritual health–rules I have broken too many times these past few months: (1) I consumed news after four PM, and (2) I consumed news on a portable electronic device. In doing so, I encountered a story about a boy from Mongolia who had died from Bubonic plague after eating an infected marmot. Then I jumped to other stories about a squirrel in Colorado who tested positive from the plague, the current global statistics on death and disability from the bubonic plague, and what the heck a marmot is.

I think this is what is called doomscrolling, and it prevented me from doing the next right thing for my soul, which was to get a good night’s sleep and recharge my wells of love, hope, and compassion. I found myself muttering, “I have Got to get back to Stoicism.” I said this much the same way I mutter to myself most Januarys that I have GOT to get back to the gym.

Stoicism is an ancient philosophy that offers timeless tools for cultivating our will by turning obstacles into opportunities to exercise virtues. Virtues like compassion, courage, patience, and resilience. Stoicism started around 300 BC in Greece. For about three hundred years, Stoicism dominated the philosophy of tile Roman Empire, thanks to the teachings of notable Stoics such as Seneca, Epictetus, and Emperor Marcus Aurelius.

Stoicism is about using mindful vigilance of thoughts to maximize the empowered agency of action. Obstacles change with the times and vary from individual to individual, but the general response of undisciplined minds to adversity remains the same: fear, helplessness, frustration, anger, confusion. The energy we spend on these emotions depletes us. Weakens us. Burns us out. By contrast, stoicism urges cultivation of virtues that empower us: strength, service, humility, flexibility.

Stoics were warriors of the mind, using hardships, insults, problems, pain–anything and everything–as fuel for the inner fire of their will The friction of struggle serves Stoics as catalysts for their chemical reactions of character, propelling them to new, higher levels of functioning and empowerment. Through training and practice, they honed what they called the Inner Citadel, a kind of internal stronghold that each of us must build over the course of our lives that houses our unbreakable will and character. Imagine the Inner Citadel as a kind of a soul fortress that protects your will and character, that no amount of external adversity can mar.

There are three steps in the Stoic Process of creating the Inner Citadel. First, to strengthen this soul fortress. We focus only on what is under our control. What Stoics called Externals are NOT within our control. Now, externals are a big bucket in the stoic mind. All actions of other people are externals. What happens to you is an external. How people react to what you do is an external. BIG bucket.

What we can control–internals as Stoics call them — fit into a considerably smaller container: Our own words, our own thoughts, and our own actions.

The second step in building the Inner Citadel is focus on right action. For the Stoics, right action is choosing the most empowering action available Right Now,. Flex your agency however possible. When faced with a seemingly impossible boulder of adversity, break it down into pebbles of discrete possibility. What task lies before us that we Can accomplish? Choose to do that one small thing. Do it well and then move on to the next pebble of possibility that is within your control.

Third, accept what comes. Stoics call it the art of acquiescence. We don’t control outcome (that is an external); we only control our own internal process. Stoics believe that, once we’ve used our will, agency, and character to the best of our ability, tranquility and joy follow. The art of acquiescence does not mean giving up going forward, only that, in that individual moment on that individual battlefield, we find a spot of peace–knowing, regardless of external events, we built Our Inner Citadel. In the next moment, turn back to the work. Repeat the process. As golfers say, play it where it lies.

When a situation arises that is truly, unchangeably awful, the Stoics show us how to transform it in the fire of the Inner Citadel. Transform it into a learning experience. Transform it into an opportunity to army our empathy. Transform it into a chance to comfort others.

The late Admiral James Stockdale provides a remarkable contemporary example of the Stoic Inner Citadel You may remember Admiral Stockdale from his time in 1992 as Ross Perot’s vice-presidential running mate. Whatever your feelings about his politics, we can see the awesome practical power of Stoicism in Admiral Stockdale’s story of his seven years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam.

In his essay, Courage Under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in A Laboratory of Human Behavior, Stockdale tells us he came to philosophy at middle age, when the Navy sent him to graduate school at Stanford. Stoicism spoke to Stockdale, particularly the compilation of Epictetus’s teachings called the Enchiridion. Enchiridion means “ready at hand”, so we would probably call it the Stoic handbook, but the Stoics meant it in the sense of a tool or weapon, available to be used quickly in any situation.

Stockdale’s Stoic hero, Epictetus, was born an enslaved person and spent years working in the palace of the infamous Roman Emperor. Nero, before he became a free person and Stoic teacher. Stockdale says he particularly admired Epictetus because Epictetus “gleaned wisdom rather than bitterness from his early flrsthand exposure to extreme cruelty and firsthand observations of abuse of power and self-indulgent debauchery.”

In 1965–three years after leaving Stanford — James Stockdale was shot down over Northern Vietnam and parachuted away from the wreckage of his airplane, floating down into enemy territory. Stockdale vividly recalls, “After ejection I had about thirty seconds to make my last statement in freedom before I landed in the main street of a little village right ahead.” “And so help me, I whispered to myself: ‘Five years down there, at least. I’m leaving the world of technology and entering the world of Epictetus.’ “

Admiral Stockdale’s essay also tells us that, when he crashed, he understood that he would be the highest ranking US military officer in the prison, that the enemy would know this and single him out for extra copious torture and reprogramming, and that his single goal was to give his fellow prisoners the best leadership he could provide as long as he survived.

His initial assessment proved accurate. As soon as he hit the ground he was badly beaten and left with an injured leg that never healed properly. Stockdale said he would later take comfort in the fact that Epictetus had a disability and wrote in the Enchiridion, “Lameness is an impediment to the leg, but not to the will”

Before he even gets to his experience at the prison, Stockdale has offered a powerful articulation of the Stoic process of forging the Inner Citadel. He’s acquiesced to external consequences over which he has no control (that he’s going to be a prisoner, probably for five years, which was his personal opinion of how much longer the war would last). He has broken down the overwhelming obstacle of imminent imprisonment into small parts over which he can exercise empowered action and agency. And he’s set a goal for his internal condition that is worthy of his Inner Citadel: He vows to use his years in imprisonment to help the other prisoners.

Once he arrives at the prison, which he describes as a cross between a psychiatric facility and a reform school, Admiral Stockdale sees that the most effective; torture technique his enemy has is the fear, anxiety, guilt, and helplessness that the captured soldiers felt about the possibility they might give up information under duress. He says,

“It was there that I learned what ‘Stoic harm’ meant…”
Epictetus [said] ‘Look not for any greater harm than this: destroying the trustworthy, self-respecting, well-behaved man within you.’

Admiral Stockdale seems frustrated in his essay that other people do not immediately grasp the gravity of Stoic Harm, and insist on asking about lesser issues, like what types of physical torture he endured and what the food was I like. He wrote that he got questions about the food all the time. Drove him crazy.

To help alleviate the psychological and spiritual harm suffered by his four hundred fellow soldiers, Stockdale established a system of coded communication between the prisoners, set up a chain of command, and most importantly, he gave them orders. Orders like “Unity over Self:” which translated practically into avoiding accepting favorable treatment at the expense of a fellow soldier. His system of shadow orders allowed the soldiers to minimize their anxiety and guilt and maximize their empowered agency. Stockdale’s orders normalized that they would probably all give up some information under torture, but allowed the soldiers to take action to build their Inner Citadels by exercising their discretion to follow Stockdale’s Unity over Self directive as best they could, given the external circumstances. That small amount of agency brought the soldiers a measure of peace and freedom inside prison.

Admiral Stockdale writes poignantly of a note left for him by a fellow soldier when Stockdale returned from a long bout of solitary confinement. (He spent four years in solitary confinement, all told) “Back in my cell, after the guard locked the door, I sat on my toilet bucket–where I could stealthily jettison the note if the peephole cover moved—and unfolded Hatcher’s sheet of low-grade paper toweling on which, with a rat dropping, he had printed, without comment or signature, the last verse of Ernest Henley’s poem Invictus:

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate.
I am the captain of my soul”

Sometimes the triumph of Stoic inner citadel over adversity bears little resemblance to traditional victory. Sometimes it manifests instead as spiritual survival. You cannot see spiritual survival on the outside. Not externally. But the presence of a person whose Inner Citadel is strong enough for spiritual survival illumines for countless others the Internal worth and dignity of every person, regardless of External circumstance.

As we walk in our Unitarian Universalist faith through this time of adversity, there will be opportunities to use the wisdom of the Stoic sages: to break challenges down so their hugeness does not paralyze us, to exercise our empowerment muscles by tackling actions within our control to preserve energy by wasting as little as possible on unproductive reactions to externals, and to transform obstacles into opportunities to build compassion and resilience.

Amen and blessed be.

Benediction

May our Inner Citadels shine brightly as beacons that ignite spiritual survival in all who see them.

Peace be with you.


Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

2020 Youth Service

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above. Text of the homilies are not available.

Senior Youth Group
July 12, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We celebrate our graduating seniors as they transition to young adults and welcome our Middle School kids into High School with our annual bridging ceremony.  Join our senior youth group as they lead worship and explore the theme of Sanctuary.


Chalice Lighting

Love is the spirit of this church and service is its law. This is our great covenant: to dwell together in peace, to speak the truth in love, and to help one another.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Call to Worship

WHERE WE BELONG, A DUET
Maya Angelou

In every town and village,
In every city square,
In crowded places I searched the faces
Hoping to find Someone to care.

I read mysterious meanings In the distant stars,
Then I went to schoolrooms
And poolrooms
And half-lighted cocktail bars.
Braving dangers, Going with strangers,
I don’t even remember their names.

I was quick and breezy
And always easy
Playing romantic games.
I wined and dined a thousand exotic Joans and Janes
In dusty halls,
at debutante balls,
On lonely country lanes.

I fell in love forever,
Twice every year or so.
I wooed them sweetly,
was theirs completely,
But they always let me go.

Saying bye now, no need to try now,
You don’t have the proper charms.
Too sentimental and much too gentle
I don’t tremble in your arms.

Then you rose into my life
Like a promised sunrise.
Brightening my days with the light in your eyes.
I’ve never been so strong,
Now I’m where I belong.

Bridging Ceremony


Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Big Gay Sunday

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Kye Flannery
June 28, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

A celebration of pride from the perspective of queerness and queer theologies – exploring belonging, solidarity and deep acceptance of our collective history, and the possibilities of our collective power.


Chalice Lighting

This is the flame of our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine on systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

SCANDALOUS GOD
– Enfleshed LBGTQ Liturgy Group

Divine Presence,
Scandalous One,
Versatile God,
You have been called the worst of names,
tossed aside by the hands of tradition,
met with violence and neglect by stranger and kin alike.
And still, you do not conform to the expectations of power
or polite your way into halls of destruction.
You, the ultimate transgressor of norms
that harm or confine,
bear witness to the glory of Strange.
You, Queer One, reveal the gifts of falling outside the lines.
You, Wild One, break open possibilities –
within us and around us –
whispering in our ear,
“See me. Feel me. Desire me.” You help us come alive again.
Beauty is your passion.
Love is your motivation.
Courage is your center.
May your spirit be awakened in every heart, every church,
every space dull with repressed delight,
That we may choose to live into the riches
of this peculiar life together.
Embrace us, O God,
and lead us in the ways of your love,
so promiscuous,
so deviant,
so free.
Amen.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Beloved Community Moment

Those in privileged identities — take a moment to think of what it is to come to identity slowly as a child and then a teen with the mirrors of your behavior — joining in a game on the playground of “the queer” where the last person holding the ball is tackled and pummeled — what it is to add to this an authority figure in the background who when we really speak from a place of joy, when we let loose, says “don’t be queer” or “you have to wear a dress to church, or you’re grounded” — and add to this the knowledge that your family are just trying to keep you safe, that as a person of color your family needs to protect you and themselves from actual violence —

Today we celebrate our Pride, as a community which seeks always to love better, always discover more about ourselves and our neighbors — in the new testament someone asks Jesus “who is my neighbor” and that is a question I think we are confronting deeply right now as a nation — as in, who do I SEE as my neighbor — and HOW do I see my neighbor — and who is my neighbor — what is it that my neighbor experiences? Who are they, really? And is there actually a “they” at all — today, now, in this historical moment, as always, our Pride is bound up in our yearning, in our pain, in our relationships, our justice commitments, our intersectional identities, our shared humanity — today, — where gender shifts, where identities we are bio families and chosen families, we are LGBTQIA… we are allies, in many stages of growth —

Meditation Reading

ASK MOLLY
Heather Havrilesky

I am an appliance that rattles and spits out sparks and blows every fuse. I used to serve some function but now I prefer not to. Place me on your kitchen counter and watch life become less and less convenient. I will trip you up. I will make you question what you meant by that. You will open a box of cereal and wonder why you do the job you do. You will stand in the middle of the floor and suddenly need to know what happened to that kid on the bus who taught you about Run DMC. You will mourn all the people you could’ve known better, including yourself.

Welcome this unraveling. The less efficient you become, the better. Break all rote habits and build your life out of satisfying pauses between action. Now eliminate all action. Pull on this strand until the days on your Google calendar skitter across the floor like dominoes. What do your cells crave? Who loves you? When you speak, who feels your words on the soles of their feet, behind their eyes, under their fingernails?

Don’t grieve the ones who can’t see you clearly. Grieve the years you spent refusing to see yourself, or refusing to feel your cells whispering for more. Grieve but don’t say that time was wasted. All mistakes and dead ends led you to this moment.

Now you can finally feel the truth: Mourning is slow but it’s the straightest path forward. The question is “How do I break this appliance permanently? How do I become an inconvenience to myself and others? How do I swear off efficiency forever? How do I keep losing the thread over and over? How do I remain out of the groove, off the map, in the zone, flexible and reflective, shimmering and cool, examining the high stakes of tiny moments, encouraging communion, forgiveness, expansion, invention?

Sermon

Do you remember the toaster? The joke used to be that, if you were gay, and you ‘converted someone’ you got a toaster. Younger people think that started with Ellen coming out on TV in the late 90s — weird to be in my 40s where I can say to someone, “No, sonny, now back before you were born…”

Like so many creative strong persistent countercultural ideas, the toaster was born in response to deep, ugly fear, Anita Bryant mid-70s cultural crusade – “they’re out there and they’re after your children.” So we flipped that script.

Yes, went the campy response, it’s like when you sell Mary Kay! Only instead of a houndstooth tote, top salespeople receive a toaster! That camp saved us, taking the mickey at homophobia, fear, nudging at the idea that capitalism might tie in with attraction —

This is the verb of queer — “to queer” — had been used as a pejorative — making something broken — queering a deal meant making it sour, driving people away — but what it means now is to look at a thing through a queer lens, find the meaning the thing did not know it had, to claim that meaning and find a new connection — a Yes, And — bringing a thing into the circle, adorning it with love and self-acceptance. Like the Fab Five from Queer Eye.

The word “queer.” – Scary. It meant “other,” not one of us. It was a word, weaponized — One of the scariest things we can experience — YOU! Out of the group of mammals you need to survive. These older generations opened up space for us, with their hearts in their throats, bloody with fighting for their lives and their friends — not knowing if it would work, terrified — in contrast, I have usually been able to pass– to read what others are most comfortable with and like to look at — no matter who I was in love with, I could be, in many settings, undercover. It was only when I lived in Boston, where I began to explore my gender expression… What made me feel strong? What made me feel brave? What colors could I fly? …I got to explore they/them pronouns. Genderqueer.

Rather than the 1950s version, I like the 1500s — odd, peculiar, eccentric.

Vonte Abrams: NY
“My queerness encompasses my voice, as a Black, male-assigned, non-binary individual… I embrace “non-binary” because I am naturally androgynous – puberty gave me a physical and emotional blend of masculine and feminine traits. I’ve learned over time that navigating societal rules of binary presentation is always going to be a unique challenge for me. “Queer” helps me face that challenge.”

“Queer” gives courage! And a way of claiming ourselves.

And yet — queering is not an answer that stays for always. It doesn’t give us the final story. It gives us… another part of the story… a richer part of the story…

When we look with queer eyes at religious traditions, we can find the refusal of gender — such as Avalokitesvara buddha, the most compassionate, who is pictured as masculine, feminine, androgynous… might use the pronouns “they”… or delving into Genesis to find the Hebrew pronouns for God and realizing we’ve assumed an awful lot

Rev Irene Monroe:
“The first night of the Stonewall Inn riots played out no differently from previous riots with Black Americans and white policemen. African Americans and Latinos were the largest percentage of the protestors because we heavily frequented the bar. For Black and Latino homeless youth and young adults, who slept in nearby Christopher Park, the Stonewall Inn was their stable domicile. ” The second night is where the broader gay community got involved, white folks, folks with economic privilege, stepped in and went into battle with and for one another —

Queering narrative means we want to know the messy version of the story — our neighbors’ view of the story, and frequently we center our neighbor’s view — after all, only one in one in 7.8 billion stories gets to be about me, and that number is bigger when we count all living things, not just humans. We don’t miss the “We” that is bigger than I — and also “I” is allowed and encouraged to sing —

Queer means looking to the collective, to the many voices, to the fringes, to the tentative, to the unself-conscious, to that which does not know how to market itself and doesn’t care to — What I love about queer theology is that it isn’t about purity, it isn’t about the idea of being washed clean — beauty and the divine is found in the dirt, in the earth, in our body’s functions and our body’s desire — this is not a love that knows all answers, or hides in bluster, but a love which wants to know more — a love which offers, above all, attention.

If you have loved — really — you know love contains pain and grit, dirt — and sometimes lust dominates and that’s also to be trusted in its way, it’s not a binary, is it lust or love? — It’s both, it’s all. But we work to make sure that in our self-expressions we don’t do harm, we see the other as a being, not a thing — We don’t throw out one part of ourselves because it’s basic or primal.

Queer theorist Judy Butler:
“Condemnation becomes the way in which we establish the other as unrecognizable.” Queerness re-acquaints us with that which we had thought to condemn….. intrinsically universalist —

Queering justice work

Prisons — Black and Pink letter-writing organization out of Boston — nobody is made undesirable because they are rule-breakers, because have been beaten down by a flawed system — power is not the designator… queer theology gets that strength and power are not the same.

In queering we care for everyone — solidarity — there is no “them.” There is a spectrum of abilities, of colors, or strengths, of weaknesses, of visions, of desires — and we learn where we are on the spectrum through connection, through meeting — being a mirror and finding a mirror —

“No one ever came to my door in searching – for you, no one, except for you”
– Canadian poet Cabrisa Lubrin

And I think this is even more threatening to the fabric of business-as-usual. And why does it threaten the fabric?… because queerness pushes us to ask…

Queerness! is communicable?? Capitalism, gender is communicable — it takes us up in its arms and we don’t notice the violence in it — as Bear’s song today illustrates — until it is acted out on us and those we love —

A queer lens makes us look twice — embracing that which is surprising, outcast, celebrating — the voices saying “you are all wrong, too loud, your voice is the wrong pitch–you don’t get to play. What are you?”…those voices are still present but we have taken time to appreciate our own mystery, and yours… what can you say against the power of another person’s mystery?

Mystery – God – goddess – divine – spark

We are here, we are queer, you are queered, no longer feared

Pauli Murray

I have been cast aside, but I sparkle in the darkness.
I have been slain but live on in the river of history.
I seek no conquest, no wealth, no power, no revenge:
I seek only discovery
Of the illimitable heights and depths of my own being.
– Cambridge, 1969

With queerness, I think, we moved to a Broken toaster model –

I am an appliance that rattles and spits out sparks and blows every fuse. I used to serve some function but now I prefer not to. Place me on your kitchen counter and watch life become less and less convenient. I will trip you up.

Welcome this unraveling. The less efficient you become, the better. Break all rote habits and build your life out of satisfying pauses between action. Now eliminate all action… Now you can finally feel the truth: Mourning is slow but it’s the straightest path forward. The question is “How do I break this appliance permanently? How do I become an inconvenience to myself and others? How do I swear off efficiency forever? How do I keep losing the thread over and over? How do I remain out of the groove, off the map, in the zone, flexible and reflective, shimmering and cool, examining the high stakes of tiny moments, encouraging communion, forgiveness, expansion, invention?

May it be so, Amen.


Resources

Love is the Spirit of this church:
https://www.uuworld.org/articles/bound-in-covenant

Ask Molly – Heather Havrilesky:
https://askmolly.substack.com/p/loss

Queer theology
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10059955-radical-love

Palimpsest: But this is how history happens, in pastiche — palimpsest — think of an old thick paper used again and again — where our memory fades, and the whispers of what was underneath remain and affect the picture we have now.
https://lucian.uchicago.edu/blogs/mediatheory/keywords/palimpsest/

This kind of demonization continues, and people get deported back to places where that thinking is backed by law – do something this Pride month for a person who needs it – Pastor Steven, Ugandan, Angry Tias and Abuelas –
https://www.facebook.com/angrytiasandabuelas/

Vonte and others on what it means to them to be queer: “those who lived through some of the darkest days of legal and societal discrimination are not comfortable using a slur that was sometimes used alongside physical violence.”
https://www.them.us/story/what-does-queer-mean

On how lust and love don’t have to be a binary: Starhawk’s “The Fifth Sacred Thing.” Great book.

Black and Pink
https://www.facebook.com/blackandpinknational/

Pauli Murray:
https://paulimurrayproject.org/pauli-murray/poetry-by-pauli-murray/

“Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold” -history of women loving women in Buffalo, NY

Ellen and the toaster:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTFNK1PQ6jg

Avalokitesvara Buddha
https://bit.ly/3eF2Bux

Gender of God in Genesis:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gender_of_God_in_Judaism

The Kiss-In of 2011
http://themostcake.co.uk/right-on/homophobia-in-the-john-snow-the-kiss-in-self-censorship/

Queer Ecology
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queer_ecology
https://smithsonianapa.org/care/
http://www.jessxsnow.com/ABOUT


Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Prayer when no one is listening

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above. Text of this sermon is not yet available.

Bear W. Qolezcua
April 26, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

The best laid plans… Growing up a sceptic, I questioned the faith I was told to have and why I would ever want to be a part of it. Join our R.E. Chaplain, Bear W. Qolezcua, as he speaks about atheism and the power of prayer. Where does it have a place and how can we use it when we don’t believe anyone or anything is listening?


Chalice Lighting

We light this chalice so that its flame may signify the spiritual strands of light that bind our hearts and souls with one another. Even while we must be physically apart, we bask in its warmth together.

Call to Worship

Impassioned Clay
– Ralph N. Helverson

Deep in ourselves resides the religious impulse. Out of the passions of our clay it rises. We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient, self-sustaining, or self-derived.

We have religion when we hold some hope beyond the present, some self respect beyond our failures. We have religion when our hearts are capable of leaping up at beauty, when our nerves are edged by some dream in the heart.

We have religion when we have an abiding gratitude for all that we have received. We have religion when we look upon people with all their failings and still find in them good; when we look beyond people to the grandeur in nature and to the purpose in our own heart. We have religion when we have done all that we can, and then in confidence entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than ourselves.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Meditation Reading

The Book of the Good
by A C Grayling
Chapter 8, Verses 1-12

  1. Shall we ask, by what commandments should we live?
  2. Or might we better ask, each of ourselves:
  3. What kind of person should I be?
  4. The first question assumes there is one right answer.
  5. The second assumes that there are many right answers.
  6. If we ask how to answer the second question, we are answered in yet other questions:
  7. What should you do when you see another suffering, or in need, afraid, or hungry?
  8. What causes are worthy, what world do you dream of where your child plays safely in the street?
  9. There are many such questions, some already their own answer, some unanswerable.
  10. But when all the answers to all the questions are summed together, no one hears less than this:
  11. Love well, seek the good in all things, harm no others, think for yourself, take responsibility, respect nature, do your upmost, be informed, be kind, be courageous:
    At least sincerely try.
  12. Add to these ten injunctions, this:
    O friends, let us always be true to ourselves and do the best in things, so that we can always be true to one another.

Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

The Grief Bible

You can listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Bear W. Qolezcua
March 15, 2020
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Life would be so much easier if it came with a manual that told us all the rules for survival but, of course, nothing so simple exists. Let’s look at lessons gleaned through grief and find the common threads that bind us all together in this very human experience.


Chalice Lighting

We seek our place in the world and the answers to our hearts’ deep questions. As we seek, may our hearts be open to unexpected answers. May the light of our chalice remind us that this is a community of warmth, of wisdom, and welcoming of multiple truths.

Call to Worship

Robert T Weston
from “Seasons of the Soul”

I will lift up my voice and sing;
Whatever may befall me,
I will still follow the light which kindles song.
I will listen to the music
Arising out of grief and joy alike,
I will not deny my voice to the song.
For in the depth of winter, song,
Like a bud peeping through the dry crust of earth,
Brings back memory,
And creates anew the hope and anticipation of spring;
Out of a world that seems barren of hope,
Song decries beauty in the shapes of leafless trees,
Lifts our eyes to distant mountain peaks which,
Even if we see them not,
Remind us that they are there, waiting,
And still calling to us to come up higher.
Out of the destruction of dear hopes,
Out of the agony of heartbreak,
Song rises once more to whisper to us
That even this is but the stage setting for a new beginning,
And that we shall yet take the pieces of our hearts
And put them together in a pattern
Of deeper, truer lights and shades.
I will lift up my voice in song,
For in singing I myself am renewed,
And the darkness of night is touched
By the promise of a new dawn,
For light shall come again.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Meditation Reading

Jodi Picoult
from “My Sister’s Keeper”

“There should be a statute of limitation on grief. A rulebook that says it is all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after 42 days you will no longer turn with your heart racing, certain you have heard her call out your name. That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass – if only because it cuts you fresh again to see it. That it’s okay to measure the time she has been gone, the way we once measured her birthdays.”


Sermon

I’ve brought my fair share of sorrows to this altar and left them here for you all to bear with me. Just like the fire bowl, we bring our worries and fears and pains to the candles, to the meditations, to our prayers in whatever form they manifest so that they are no longer only ours to carry. For that grace, I’m grateful. An old Swedish proverb that is dear to me reads “Sorrow shared is sorrow halved. Joy shared is joy doubled.”

It sometimes really bugs me that there is no handbook when it comes to grieving. However, just because there is no brochure out there with “The Perfect Grief Guide” splashed cheerily across the front leaf doesn’t mean we are bereft of any sort of guidance.

In each one of us there is an intangible well of wisdom that hastens to help us when we need it most. Some pages are scattered with frantic broken thoughts and doodles in the margins that speak of emotional highs and lows… and other pages are neatly set and well thought out, processed and made into a clear message of centered calm. Combined, much of that experience creates what I like to refer to as a “Grief Bible”, a place where we can look to find answers to our questions based off of our own learning.

My grief bible begins with “In grace, in heartache, in joy, in sorrow… I am not alone.”

Grief, of course, is not solely fashioned from the experience of death. Much in our life teaches us lessons of sorrow and those lessons have their own books within our personal bibles. Some of mine would be titled “Boy Troubles”, “What the heck do I want to do with my life?”, and “Student Loan Interest Rates.” That last one… that’s a real tear jerker.

These bibles of our own making are filled with a few short books, with only a passage or two, and others that span hundreds of pages with sayings and life experiences. Some are not yet written and others are in the infancy of them being penned.

Because I know my grief best and what I have carried away from a lot of these experiences, I would like to highlight a few takeaways. Like, Book 19. Kevin. My first love.

This book taught me that the heart never heals completely… not with time, not with distance, not with age or wisdom or any other method or measure. Though the pieces may be swept back into a pile lovingly reshaped into a semblance of its original form, a shattered heart will never be without its cracks. Kevin’s book taught me that no matter how much we think we actually want our heart to heal completely, it won’t and perhaps the most beautiful first lesson comes from that fact.

We want so desperately to not hurt anymore, to not feel that sting. When we lose someone we feel we can’t go on without, and our whole life is in an infinite number of pieces, the worst news we want to hear is that we will never really get over the loss.

There is good news there, though… and that is – we will never really get over the loss.

The reason it is good news, however, is that because you will never really get over the loss you will never really get over their memory. Eventually it might not hurt as bad when you do recall them, that itself is a gift, but the wound will still be there.

My mom told me, in one of her many personal parables, that grieving is like a robin that has broken a wing. There is hope that with time the wing will heal and the robin will fly again but the flight might be less sure than before. It will take to the skies once more but not before going through pain, healing, and growth to be strong enough for the task.

Kevin’s book ends as a lesson on the transience of life and the mortal beauty of death. And yes, as morbid as it makes me sound right now, there is very real beauty in surviving the death of someone you love. It just takes a long time to see it, if you ever do.

27: Trella, my last grandmother. This book taught me that sometimes we must rescue ourselves by whatever means necessary long enough to carry on until we can fall apart safely.

One of my favourite movies of all time, Steel Magnolias, puts Trella’s book into words perfectly… “Laughter through tears is my favourite emotion.”

My grandmother died surrounded by her descendents on a Saturday afternoon. One of her calling cards in life was a fastidiously maintained manicure done in cherry bomb red, almond shaped tips. It was her luxury that she indulged each week, on a Friday, usually with her friend Maxine. After she breathed her last we all kind of panicked and started to fall apart. We still had so much to do that we needed to be a bit more together in our heads, and I tried to find something… ANYTHING… to break me out of that all too real moment and maybe be able to help my family. Then I noticed her manicure and quipped “At least her nails look good.” We all stopped, looked at them and then the chuckling began. We were still crying but that moment of absurdity, the lifelong ritual my grandmother held sacred since coming to Austin in the 60s… it rescued us enough to keep moving forward a bit longer.

Book 31. Mom. This book taught me my most valuable lesson so far. I learned that I am not the person that so many other people told me I was, that I wasn’t just a steady rock and I didn’t have to be. Over the years I learned that I am quite tender, that I genuinely love the emotions in this life, and that the message I was told for all my years before was keeping me back from being able to call on my greatest source of true strength – my community of love and support.

I was the only one of my mom’s children she told about the final cancer diagnosis, Christmas day of 2011. When I asked her why she only told me, she said “Because you’re the strong one.”

I bore that “strong” label with me as if it were all I was. I pushed others away so that they wouldn’t have to bear this thing that I, the rock of strength, told myself I must carry alone. But her death, when it came three years later, proved I was anything but strong… or simply strong. And when I realized that fact, I was unsure as to who then I was. I wanted to hold up the box of puzzle pieces depicting my life and shake them out onto the table for them to fall perfectly in place, making sense of my grief and everything I was feeling and not feeling because I feared I was going to disappear if it went on much longer.

The last few sentences of this book read – you are never ready, even when you are ready. You are never strong enough even when you are strong enough. And you are never too old to feel like a child at the loss of a parent.

After my mom died I returned to seminary almost immediately, mistake number one. Rev. Dr. Blair Monie, one of my professors, sat with me for hours while I fell apart, crying onto the shoulder of his perfectly tailored suits. I’m sure I owed him a ton of dry cleaning money. He was the only Presbyterian minister I loved more than Mr. Rogers and y’all… I LOVE Mr. Rogers. He once told me “you will survive this. No matter what, you have survived and you will continue to survive even this.” Simple words, maybe a bit overused and even pithy but in the moment he said them, just two days after her death, they became bread to me.

In a lot of ways, he became a surrogate father and chaplaincy mentor. Blair was a gift I never had thought I would receive. A year and a half ago I added book 35. Blair Monie.

Adding this particular part of my bible felt like losing a parent all over again. His story in my life ends with the line – “We will say goodbye to our mothers and fathers many times in our lives, but only once can we say goodbye to the many mothers and fathers we have had.”

Grief comes at times we wouldn’t expect. Of course, we often see death attended by grief, that is a part of the human condition, but it so often follows closely on the heels of lost relationships, broken trust, or feeling that there is more to do and we are too small or unempowered to do the tasks needed. Right now, as a nation, many of us are experiencing the grief that stems from trauma and the uncertainty in which we all find ourselves. There is a human made food shortage because of the uncertain nature of our situation and a culture imbued with a strong “what if” mentality.

We keep watching reports of more cases of Covid-19 being confirmed in our communities and we are being told to hold steady and remain calm when our brain is screaming at us to do anything but that.

This viral disease comes with a toll for each one of us. We will all add a book to our grief bibles as we move through the waves of illness as well as the unknown recovery period. Our daily lives have been thrown out of balance and upset greatly. Not only has our comfort been shaken from our grip but also our security.

We see videos and hear stories of people fighting over basic staples of life. Folks hoard more than they will possibly need or use, much of it may be wasted in the end, all in some desperate attempt to reclaim that comfort, security, and feeling of being in control of their lives.

Many will experience the grief of feeling responsible to care for their family, however that is defined, and yet helpless to do so in the current situation. Some will experience the grief that comes from the presence of anxiety, being inflated by the media and a seemingly uncaring, inept government, the unknowns and those what ifs will build up further until that is all they can see in their lives. And still, others will, in the end, experience the grief at surviving the death of a loved one.

When humans feel that their sure footing is threatened, they lash out for whatever they can hold onto. Be that money, food, toilet paper, or other humans and now – because of actions and circumstances wildly beyond any of our control – we stand raw to the fear, exposed to the chill of these many forms of loss.

I can’t say to how this book will end, I can’t predict the final line and I dare not speak what is not yet to be into the world. I will, however, say this. In this time it is best to remember our community and keep each other in our minds and hearts. Check in with one another. Help others remain steady as they do the same for you. Draw from our collective grief bibles, if only to be reassured that, as with all things, this is temporary and it too shall pass.

A lesson from my long book of proverbs comes with a warning to remember that in ways, our society often shares the lesson that grief should be peripheral, that it is almost rude to grieve. People ask how you are but some really only want to hear “I’m doing well/alright/ok, thank you” not… I am still shattered, I haven’t showered in four days, I can’t remember if I ate or not, and I can’t find the willpower to pay my electric bill. They want absolution from the responsibility to care for another human being in a moment of pain because, for many, they’ve no idea how to help or what to do.

In conversation, the complications that come from grieving tend to be avoided. People feel embarrassed for you when you talk about your grief; you let them off the hook so that the awkwardness surrounding our fear of this part of life can be moved past. However… Here’s the deal.

Sometimes you must talk about it because talking about it is like opening the pressure valve, letting out all the steam and perhaps being able to take a breath once more.

When I talk about my grief, in times that are very heavy and loud in my head, I feel like I become more visible again. It feels like I am more able to live and move along in my life because I no longer bear it all. Just because I was told I was strong enough to do it on my own doesn’t mean that I have to be. One of the gifts that comes from talking about your grief and what you are grieving is that it can provide profound clarity and remove the gauze that hides things you never thought you knew.

Though it is growing alongside yours, I hope my grief bible is as complete as I can make it right now. This chain of stories and feelings that I have scraped together through my own faulty memory all culminates with this final lesson. – Our grief bibles have nothing to do with our actual grief. Yes, the pain and loss are there in those pages, bound and sealed for our entire lives, but they are not the end result of the book itself. Ed Sheeran sang once that a heart that’s broken is a heart that’s been loved. This grief bible… our gathered mass of stories and memories and hopes and proverbs, it is our testament to the fact that there is, somewhere within us, something more. Not every story of sorrow leads to a positive outcome, some have no greater lesson than survival, but many do come back to being a source of knowledge and guidance for finding that final page to our otherwise heartbreaking book and being able to draw on it when we, once again, need.


Most sermons during the past 20 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Lessons in Welcome from Thanksgiving and a Blow to the head

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Lee Legault, Ministerial Intern
December 1, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We experience the world differently. Those of us journeying life neuro-typically and with ableist privilege too often hold this truth abstractly and at a distance. Let us hold the truth of neuro-physical diversity closely and tenderly to transform worship and build the Beloved Community.


Chalice Lighting

As we await the return of the light, we kindle the flame of Transcendence, the first of the five values of our congregation. We are in awe at each glimpse of the Oneness of everything, the great truth that lives deep within ourselves and reaches to the farthest ends of the Universe.

Call to Worship

by William F. Schulz

This is the mission of our faith:
To teach the fragile art of hospitality;
To revere both the critical mind and the generous heart;
To prove that diversity need not mean divisiveness;
And to witness to all that we must hold the whole world in our hands.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Moment for Beloved Community

This moment comes from American feminist scholar – and white woman – Peggy McIntosh. She wrote an engaging and convicting essay called “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.” In it she says, “White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools, and blank checks.”

In unpacking this invisible knapsack, she lists conditions of daily experience that she once took for granted because of her whiteness. Here are three that stood out for me because I’m raising three, white UU young people:

  • I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.
  • I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.
  • 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.

She lists 50 items in the knapsack of white privilege. I invite you to explore her full essay on the website www.racialequitytools.org

Meditation Reading

YOUR BODY IS WELCOME HERE
by Rev. Sean Neil-Barron

Your body is welcome here, all of it.
Yes, even that part. And that part. And yes, even that part.
The parts you love, and the parts you don’t.

For in this place we come with all that we are,
All that we have been,
And all that we are going to be.

Our bodies are constantly changing, cells die and cells are reborn
We respond to infections and disease
Sometimes we can divorce them from our bodies,
and other times they become permanently part of us.

Your body and all that is within it,
both wanted and not wanted, has a place here.
Our bodies join in a web of co-creation,
created and creating.

Constantly changing, constantly changing us
Scarred and tattooed, tense and relaxed
Diseased and cured, unfamiliar and intimate
Formed in infinite diversity of creation
Your body is welcome here, all of it.

So take a moment and welcome it
Take a moment to feel in it.
Take a moment, to be in it.

Sermon

My Thanksgivings

When I think back to when I first internalized that people experience the world differently, I would say it was Thanksgivings at my grandparents’ house in Corpus Christi. My grandparents hosted seven or more family members in their small townhouse, so we got cozy, and I always looked forward to spending a couple of nights together.

I usually got to sleep on something other than a bed, and when I was little that felt like an awesome adventure. Would I get one of the couches? Maybe the air mattress?

As I drifted off to sleep, I fondly remember hearing my mom and my aunt whispering urgently to one another. It was always about the same thing: the thermostat.

My granddad kept the thermometer set to 78 at night. He slept in pajamas with long sleeves and long pants; he wore fleecy house slippers. My mom and my aunt were what we called hot-natured and that made them susceptible to “sweltering in the night,” which is why they kept their thermostats at 68 at night in their houses.

At Thanksgiving, my mom and aunt would wait about thirty minutes after my grandparents had gone to bed. Then they would hover about the thermostat debating how low they could turn it without the air conditioning waking my granddad up. My aunt always got up super early in the morning to “put her face on” before anyone saw her naked visage, so she would change it back to 78 before my granddad noticed.

I was pretty much impervious to temperature as a kid. I slept fine no matter where the thermostat ended up, but I could see at Thanksgiving that other people experienced the environment differently than I did ….

Now in addition to a fun story about my family at Thanksgiving, I have just given you some important, unspoken information: I carry able-bodied, neurotypical privilege. Like white privilege, able-bodied privilege is often invisible or unknown to those who have it, because they have the luxury of drifting through life oblivious to their role in an oppressive system. Able-bodied privilege is how I made it through childhood only aware once-a-year at Thanksgiving that people experience their physical environments differently.

Like white privilege perpetuates racism, able-bodied privilege perpetuates ableism. Ableism creates an unwelcoming environment for many, many people.

I was reminded of my able-bodied privilege last month when I got a mild concussion. I was unpacking luggage in a hotel and when I raised up I banged the heck out of my head on the open door of the hotel safe. Today I am back to my own normal, but for about a month, I experienced the world differently. I had trouble focusing, and my memory was unreliable. I fatigued easily and had to pare down my schedule to get enough rest. I got overwhelmed by sensory stimulation. I felt anxious in social situations because I was not sure what would come out of my mouth, or if I would be able to keep up with what was going on around me. These symptoms temporarily changed the way I lived my life and very much changed the way I experienced worship.

Vocabulary

The Accessibility Guidelines for Unitarian Universalist Congregations define a disability as a physical or mental challenge that substantially limits one or more major life activities. There are times when using the word “disability” makes sense, but being a welcoming congregation requires openness to moving beyond binary labels. UU Minister Teresa Soto, who identifies as a disabled person, reminds us that “disability isn’t medical when it comes to being in community. It’s ‘an experience’.”

Two emerging terms reframe the medical model of disability, and cast all of us along a spectrum of physical and mental differences. These two words – neurodiversity and bodily diversity – respect differences in neurological and bodily realities as variations in a shared human experience. Importantly, neurodiversity and bodily diversity are neutral words, that emphasize that we are all in relationship, working it out together. Here’s a sample sentence for neurodiversity: AcknowLedging her son’s attention deficit disorder as neurodiverse means that she understands he approaches time and organization differently than she does – and he is often more creative and innovative than she.

Things not to say

A few more words about diction because words shape and reveal attitudes. Words matter for welcoming.

A “handicap” is not a description of a person. It is a barrier that society places on a person with a disability. So it would be appropriate to say, “Stairs will be a handicap for John, who uses a wheelchair.” It would not be appropriate to say, “John is handicapped and can’t use the stairs.” It should go without saying, but do not refer to someone BY disability.

Here is a poignant anecdote from Reverend Soto:

“Very often people call me ‘wheelchair.’ You would think: that wouldn’t happen, but it does. The bus driver will say, the wheelchair is getting off here. Well, I’m hoping to go with it. So because people call me a wheelchair sometimes, I prefer to call myself a person with a disability.”

I apologize that these next few words are coming out of my mouth, but I want to be explicit about this from the pulpit. Drop the following descriptors from your vocabulary of neuro and bodily diversity: crippled, crazy, retarded, dumb, shut-in, invalid, sufferer, or victim. Those words do harm: reinforcing stereotypes, creating false narratives, and disseminating disinformation.

Neurodiverse testimonies

Theologically, mindfulness of neuro and bodily diversity is a way to practice our first and seventh principles: the inherent worth and dignity of every person, and the interconnected web of existence of which we are a part. Theologically, welcoming does not mean adapting the existing system for a few; it means the many shake up their attitudes and their way of thinking to make room for every whole person who might be in the room–their needs And their gifts. Theologically, welcoming means relying on our second source: Words and deeds of prophetic people which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love. Specifically, we need to listen to those among us — like Reverend Soto — willing to offer the wisdom of their lived experience that we all may grow spiritually.

Another of these prophetic people is Ramon Selove, a Unitarian Universalist from Virginia who teaches biology, identifies as autistic, and trains congregations on best practices for welcoming people with autism. He wrote about neurodiversity in worship in a piece called “Preventable Suffering: A UU With Autism Confronts Coffee Hour.” He says:

Meeting people, touching people, and general noise levels during and after a worship service can be real problems for me and others with autism. During services, just when things have quieted down and we are getting into the rhythm of the service, our minister asks us to stop and greet each other, shake hands, etc. It then takes the congregation a while to calm down again and get back into the service. I personally find that break disruptive. I really wish we wouldn’t do it at all.

It is stressful for me to be in the presence of a large number of people and it is much worse when many conversations are going on at the same time. I sometimes come to church late so that I can avoid all the conversations that occur prior to the service. At the end of the service I usually remain in the seats instead of going to the “social area.” Sometimes people come to talk to me (which I appreciate very much) and sometimes I just sit alone.

Welcoming Practices

First UU of Austin already has in place some of the best practices for a neuro and bodily diverse worship, like our quiet room with a window into the sanctuary, the choice of listening to the service from the fellowship hall, the large-print orders of service, streaming the service on Facebook, and the hearing loop system, among other things.

There is more to do, and that is all right. Let’s ask ourselves as a community of neuro and bodily diverse people: How could we do this better? If we can’t do it today, how can we work towards it and what would it take to do it in the future? We welcome discussion and suggestions. Let us know how to welcome you.

Reverend Helen McFadyen, coordinator of the UU Accessibility and Inclusion ministry, notes that true inclusion and welcome take sustained commitment, and that some of the most important changes are attitudinal.

One step we can all take, beginning today, is to make welcoming a spiritual practice. Some of our middle school youth are learning how to do this as part of their Crossing Paths RE curriculum. I offer you the Eight Practices of Welcoming that they are learning:

  1. Be fully present
  2. Be curious
  3. Be open to being changed
  4. Be comfortable with discomfort
  5. Be an appreciative listener
  6. Be light-hearted
  7. Be gentle
  8. Be yourself

Return to Thanksgiving and link church to sanctuary

At bottom, hospitality and welcome are not about social graces. They are about seeing the divine in every person. They are about Mutual Reverence. We call the room we are all in together right now “The Sanctuary.” “Sanctuary” can mean simply a place that a person can go to avoid harm. But it is more than that. The word “sanctuary” comes from “sanctus,” which is the latin word for “holy.” Let us make this place holy for all who seek it.


Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Prophecy, Power, and Potter

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above. Text of the sermon is not available.

Lee Legault
July 28, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Ministerial Intern Lee Legault asks what wisdom can we glean from the Harry Potter books on how to partner with our youth. The Harry Potter myth offers insight into the role of youth in social justice movements. How has Unitarian Universalism supported the unique charisma of our young people?


Chalice Lighting

As we light the chalice may our souls become its hearth. We join our hearts to the one great flame of bright compassion, Beloved community, and fervent justice. May our sparks become a wildfire in the world, lighting the way for all.

Call to Worship

HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS
J.K. Rowling

The words of are by Professor Dumbledore who is Hogwarts’ Headmaster in the Harry Potter series. Harry fears that he and Lord Voldemort may be alike in some ways and wonders whether he too may become an evil wizard, Professor Dumbledore tells him:

“It is our choices … that show us what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

Reading

HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
J.K. Rowling

Professor Dumbledore: I say to you all, once again–in the light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

It is my belief–and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken–that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder.

A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember [that student]. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.

Remember [him].


Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Stranger in a strange land

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Lee Legault
June 23, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Join ministerial intern, Lee Legault, in reflecting on what we gain when we leave the narrow straits of Egypt and lose our ego identities in the wilderness. Psychologist C.G Jung developed a paradigm for psychological growth called individuation and believed it to be humanity’s most important work. From a Jungian perspective, the Exodus account of Moses’ early life becomes a map to freedom through the arduous inner work of individuation.


Call to Worship
Mary Oliver

THE JOURNEY

One day you finally knew 
what you had to do, and 
began, 
though the voices around you 
kept shouting 
their bad advice — 
though the whole house 
began to tremble 
and you felt the old tug 
at your ankles. 
“Mend my life!” 
each voice cried. 
But you didn’t stop. 
You knew what you had to 
do, 
though the wind pried 
with its stiff fingers 
at the very foundations, 
though their melancholy
was terrible. 
It was already late 
enough, and a wild night, 
and the road full of fallen 
branches and stones. 
But little by little, 
as you left their voice behind, 
the stars began to burn 
through the sheets of clouds, 
and there was a new voice 
which you slowly 
recognized as your own, 
that kept you company 
as you strode deeper and 
deeper 
into the world, 
determined to do 
the only thing you could do —
determined to save 
the only life that you could 
save.

Reading
Celeste Snowber

Know there is a flow 
working within the vessels 
of your life and blood

through each spiritual artery and vein 
which has a current all to its own

you cannot stop the life stream, 
only enhance its surge

listen for the sound 
of grace inhabiting 
the map of your path

let what is Unseen carry you 
in its crest

give into the wave 
of the ebb and flow 
of your own pulse

who knows where your journey will lead 
or what you may discover

you are in a new chapter 
of your own autobiography 
rewriting your own narrative 
every moment you take a breath

Sermon

I’m pretty new to religion. I grew up unchurched and adopted Unitarian Universalism as my family’s faith in 2012. In 2015, I decided to leave the law and become a Unitarian Universalist minister. As a warm-up, I spent a year working half-time as a lawyer and taking one course per semester at the seminary. I studied biblical Hebrew and the book of Exodus, in Hebrew.

I had never owned a Bible before seminary, and I needed something I was more fluent in than Hebrew to help me translate the biblical concepts into something meaningful to me. So in parallel with Exodus, I read up on Carl Gustav Jung, the founder of analytical depth psychology. He helped me see the archetypal elements of my seminary experience: As Moses declared during his psychologically formative years in the Midean wilderness, I have been a stranger in a strange land.

To illustrate, I’ll tell you about my visit to the chapel at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. I went there after my first Hebrew class, to catch my breath, calm down, and meditate in their sacred space. It is a breathtaking place. A miniature version of the spired, buttressed cathedrals I associate with old Europe. Nobody else was there, so I could let my mouth hang open a little and turn around and around, soaking it in. Still loaded up from class, I went to put my books down on top of an ornate glass-topped table so I could have a better look at the even more ornate candelabra behind it — only to discover that the glass-topped table was, in fact, an enormous basin of holy water.

Fortunately, I was alone in the chapel, so nobody knew of my baptism by faux pas. Unfortunately, I was also alone with the sudden knowledge that my egocentric identity — “Lee Legault, attorney at law” — got me nowhere in this strange new land where I didn’t know up from down.

But after immersing myself in the Moses myth and Carl Jung, I see that losing my comfortable, safe, egocentric identity in that foreign place was not only embarrassing and wrenching, but also a WONDERFUL psychological development! I had taken a modest step towards psychological freedom, or what Jung calls an individuated life.

Jung by Way of Carrots

Individuation is Jung’s word for the transformation from an unconscious, egocentric person into one whose ego is in dialogue with the Self with a capital S. The Self is the central, creative, organizing source of life energy. Unitarian Universalists might call the Self the Spirit of Life.

I’ll use a carrot as an analogy. You could think of the Self as the vast expanse of soil that undergirds and nourishes the carrot and the leaves above it. The little leaves of the carrot pushing up into the light is the ego. Our ego is our sense of identity — the “I” part of each of us. But prior to individuation, the leaf of ego is unaware of the existence of the soil or the carrot and believes it is growing all alone, without any support.

Now, when I called Moses a myth, I meant no disrespect. In Jungian terms, myths are sacred stories. Irrespective of their external, historic truth, myths ring true on the inside. Myths are maps, and they contain keys: symbolic elements — called archetypes — that weave their teachings into the fabric of our souls, consciously and unconsciously. Let me tell you part of the Moses Myth from a Jungian perspective, focusing on the archetype of the wilderness journey.

Mitzrayim

Moses is born in Egypt to Hebrew parents at a time when the Pharaoh fears the ballooning Hebrew population. The Pharoah has ordered all Hebrew male babies be killed at birth. To save her son, Moses’s mother weaves a basket out of reeds, and sets him afloat on the Nile River. The Pharaoh’s daughter finds him, adopts him, and raises him as an Egyptian prince.

Moses, as we all do, spends roughly the first third of his life in Egypt developing his ego (his little green leaves). The Exodus text on Moses’s early life is spare, but we imagine he led a life of power, privilege, and safety there in the palace. He has an inkling of his Hebrew roots, but he is living life as Egyptian royalty.

The Hebrew word for Egypt is “mitzrayim” and aptly, it translates to narrow, constricted place. Right now, Moses’s sense of the world and his ego-bound, psychological state is narrow and constricted, but safe and protected.

Driven by some internal sense of restlessness, young man Moses (with his spring green ego) leaves the palace and ventures out to the Hebrew labor camp. He sees an Egyptian soldier beating a Hebrew. Moses becomes enraged, beats the Egyptian soldier to death, and hides the body.

For Jungians, this is a perfect example of the psychological stage of ego inflation, where the ego (the leaf) starts to get impressed with its own power and engages in some rash act that defies societal conventions.

The next day, Moses is inexplicably drawn back to the Hebrew labor camp. He sees two Hebrews fighting. His ego puffs up again, and he says, “Stop! Why are you fighting? You are brothers in oppression.”

One of the Hebrews stops fighting just long enough to put Moses in his place, saying “Who made you ruler over us? Do you mean to kill us too, like you did that Egyptian soldier?” This is the beginning of Moses’s ego demotion and identity crisis. Right now, he is not ready to lead anyone anywhere.

Sure enough, Pharaoh finds out about Moses’s killing the Egyptian soldier and orders his execution. Moses flees the narrow straights of Egypt, heading into the wilderness.

Midbar

A wilderness journey in a myth is an archetype for the psychological stage of alienation. Alienation is a painful, dark time when all that the ego thought it was, thought it had, and thought it knew is abruptly taken or discovered to be woefully insufficient. A seminary friend described alienation pretty well by saying, “Moses had to get the Moses out of Moses.”

In the wilderness, Moses comes across the semi-nomadic Midianites. Midianites don’t build pyramids or live in palaces; they herd sheep in the middle of nowhere. Moses spends years in Midean. He marries, has kids, herds sheep, and grows up.

Burning Bush

Painful as it is, alienation is probably the single biggest opportunity for psychological growth in a lifetime. Once the over-inflated ego (the leaf) is all battered to bits, it has a shot at realizing it is rooted in something bigger and deeper: the soil of the Self.

Archetypally, this reunion usually occurs in the wilderness.

One day while Moses is out shepherding in the wilderness, he sees a bush burning but not consumed by the fire, and he hears an awesome voice calling his name. Tn a less developed psyche that had not gone through the pain of alienation, the inner monologue might have gone something like this: “I’ve come to a fork in the path. On my left, there is a weird burning bush and a scary, disembodied voice. On the right is a well travelled sheep trail with regular shrubbery. Which way should I go? Moses forks left, toward the burning bush, and that has made all the difference.

Moses is eighty when he has that reunion with the Self at the burning bush. Individuation is not for the young pups.

Moses goes back to Egypt and has a talk with the Pharaoh about some plagues, but we’ll save that part of the myth for another day.

For today, our focus is on the fact that Moses has grown psychologically since the last time he was in Egypt. This time, he is able to lead the Hebrews, and he does: out of the narrow straights of Egypt.

As I understand it, this part of the Moses myth shows that — though it is not a fast, easy, or painless process–bending to the inner work of individuation is a path to psychological growth and freedom.

Three Tools

Here are three tools you might try out on your own inner searches for truth and meaning.

  • Read myths for yourself and read them regularly.

    I believe a myth must be reinterpreted in order to maintain its vitality and living connection with the world. A myth, after all, describes the relationship between humanity and the Spirit of Life, and I believe that relationship is not static. It is dynamic, direct, and evolving.

    While myths abound in the world’s holy books, they are almost certainly also in the books that are holy to you. For me, these would include the Wrinkle in Time, Harry Potter, and the Alchemist. Know the myths that are sacred to you, and reread them periodically so their archetypes can do their conscious and unconscious work on your psyche.

  • Practice listening for the still. small voice.

    Follow it in minor matters (like Moses did when he broke the norm and ventured out of the palace to the Hebrew labor camp). But don’t be surprised if there are times in your symbolic wilderness journeys when that inner voice is not so small, and is more like a burning bush. You are less likely to turn away from the burning bush if you have practiced listening to the still, small voice.

  • Mythologize your own life.

    Dwell in your internal rather than external progress and see the myth patterns at play.

    Notice when your ego has gotten inflated and you are too locked down in your safe, leaf life. Notice when you are in the wilderness and honor that for what it is.

    In Jung’s autobiography, he exclusively discusses his inner life. Not the world wars. Not the famous people he knew. Just his internal shifts. His wilderness journeys. His burning bush experiences. That’s where the real action is.

Conclusion

You don’t have to live a myth on the scale of Moses. What I love most about the Jungian paradigm is that everyone’s inner journey matters. And not just to you. Your advances — however modest — on your inner work benefit humanity because we all contribute to and draw from the soil of the Self.

I’ll leave you with a story I’ve liked all my life, and like even more now that I’m familiar with individuation. A man came upon a construction site where three people were working. He asked the first, “What are you doing?” and the person without glancing up, replied: “I am laying bricks.” He asked the second, “What are you doing?” and the man rested on his knees and replied: “I am building a wall.” As he approached the third, he heard her humming a tune as she worked, and asked, “What are you doing?” The woman stood, looked up at the sky, and smiled, “I am building a great cathedral!”

From a Jungian perspective, every life is building the great cathedral of the Self.


Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Homecoming and Dedication

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above. Text of this sermon is not available.

Mr. Barb Greve
June 2, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Mr. Barb Greve will be joining us and speaking to the community. Barb is co-moderator of the Unitarian Universalist Association, serving alongside Elandria Williams. He was appointed by the Board of Trustees on August 1, 2017, to serve in the bylaw-defined role of moderator. At the same time, the board named Williams co-moderator and stipulated that he and Williams would serve together and share responsibilities as co-moderators.

A Master-level credentialed religious educator, Barb has served for the past twenty years as an intentional interim director of lifespan religious education, a professional youth advisor, and a member of the UUA staff. He received his Master of Divinity from Starr King School for the Ministry in 2007 and served as the chair of the school’ s Board of Trustees. He is one of the cofounders of TRUUsT (Transgender Religious Unitarian Universalists Together) and a tri-founder of the Guild of Interim Religious Educators. Raised in the First Parish in Framingham, Massachusetts, where he maintains his membership, Greve loves committee and board meetings, believing that doing the ” business” of our faith is important.

Greve is a transgender guy, grateful for the life-saving loving acceptance that our faith has provided throughout his life.


Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS

Youth Service: Reflection

Senior Youth Group
April 28, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Our Senior High Youth Group lead the service and invite the congregation on a journey in self-reflection, how we’ve grown, and who we’ve become over our lives.


Call to Worship

ELEVEN
by Sandra Cisneros

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are-underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.

Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is. You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you . And you don’t feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost twelve. That’s the way it is.

Reading

REACHING NONETHELESS
by Sage Hirschfeld

If I could take every word I’ve ever written and ask them what this is all about
I think it might sound something like all the pots and pans in my kitchen falling out from every
overstuffed cabinet and onto the tile floor in a single moment
It would sound like every great and terrible symphony warm up
Like cacophony of chaos already insued
A ruckus of all things sacred in their hardness
Colliding
Greeting each other
Shaking hands with shock waves strong enough to rip through plaster and wood and flesh and
bone
To stir something somewhere you never knew was sleeping till you felt it wake up
To punctuate a period with an exclamation point and then another period.
But that’s not where it would end
It would sound like a collective exhale of everything daring to move
It would sound like doors creaking open throughout the house
Like footsteps down narrow hallways drawing near
Like my father’s voice calling in every shade of compassion
It would sound like hands outstretched in beaconing beyond intrinsic
Beyond first thoughts or old habits or logiced ways
Simply reaching out without truly knowing what for
But reaching nonetheless

Meditation

REFLECTION 
by Shel Silverstein

Each time I see the Upside-Down Man 
Standing in the water, 
I look at him and start to laugh, 
Although I shouldn’t oughtter. 
For maybe in another world 
Another time 
Another town, 
Maybe HE is right side up 
And I am upside down.

Homilies

by Shanti Cornell, Julia Heilrayne, Rae Milstead, Abby Poirier

JULIA HEILRAYNE

Children’s hospitals aren’t like normal hospitals. They are places where we care for our youngest and our most vulnerable. They are places where the juxtaposition of emotions felt covers a spectrum larger than I ever thought possible. In children’s hospitals, the grief that is felt is felt so deeply, so loudly, so intensely, that sometimes it is easy to forget that the joy there is felt just as deeply, just as loudly, just as intensely. Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri, the place where I spent a month of the last school year, is no different. From the bubbly decorations to the fish in the MRI machines and the graffiti style cartoon characters that bounce across every wall, it is in essence what a children’s hospital should be: a place to heal, to mourn, to celebrate, and to reflect.

From the branch of the hospital I spent the most time in, you can see the parking garage. This particular parking garage is adorned with an art installation, consisting of colored sheets of glass protruding from the side of the building, casting colorful shadows on the outside wall. In just the right room, standing on just the right section of blue carpeted floor, you can see yourself, reflected in those sheets of colorful glass. Sometimes you are blue, or red, or purple, or green. Sometimes you are clearly defined, so much so that you can see the expression on your face, and other times you melt into the colors, reflections of trees and noises cars coming and going. The first time I saw those glass sheets, the girl reflected back to me was anxiously fiddling with her fingers. There were dark circles under her eyes, and although her hair was pulled back into what might have once been a ponytail, it had since morphed into a clumped tangled mat on the side of her head. The girl was sitting in a wheelchair. As I watched the girl in the glass that first day, she watched me back. Together, we hoped, and we prayed, in our weird atheist UU way, that the doctors here would tell us they could make the pain go away. I left the hospital that day with good news- I was an excellent candidate for the treatment they provided.

Months passed before I was able to travel back to Children’s, and when I did, the girl in the glass was waiting for me, but she had changed. Physical therapists forced the girl to stand, they bent her legs in weird angles and took a million different measurements. The dark circles under the girl’s eyes had grown, and the tears that streamed down her face as the doctors worked on her felt warm and uncomfortable on my cheek. I turned away from the girl in the glass, and she turned away from me.

It was days later, when I let myself glance out the window back towards the parking garage, and the reflection glanced back at me. This time, the girl’s ponytail still looked like a ponytail, and although the dark circles still remained under her eyes, the tears had stopped falling. She looked stronger, better. She looked less like a patient in a children’s hospital and more like the girl I once knew myself to be. I smiled a small smile, and she smiled back, the same small, timid smile.

I continued to watch the girl in the glass grow stronger, watch her legs hold her straighter, watch her arms leave the wheels of the chair far behind. I watched as she became more sure of herself on the treadmill, more able to do the things that most 17 year old girls were doing every day- like walking. The dark circles under her eyes grew lighter, and the smile on her face grew bigger, and slowly, slowly, after days of watching her, I started to recognize myself.

While my friends stressed over studying for finals back in Austin, I learned methods to control the pain that had been plaguing me for years, and the girl reflected back to me in every color of the rainbow did the same. I walked, then ran, then ran a mile. And the entire time, I watched the reflection of myself in the glass. On the hard days, I would check in with me in the glass, and assure her it was going to be ok. On the goo days, I would celebrate with the girl in the glass, and we would carry that success onto the next day. Those seemingly meaningless colorful glass panes gave me a way to watch myself change, in the best possible of way. As silly as it may sound to someone who didn’t spend 8 hours a day learning to walk, run, use their hands, and think again in those rooms, I am grateful to that glass.

I have been home for exactly 4 months and 3 weeks. It has been a glorious 145 days, and as I prepare mentally to go back in June for my 6 month follow up, I can’t help but wonder what the girl who will be reflected back at me into the hospital will look like this time, because the thing that the girl in the glass taught me above all else is that be it staring at yourself in the mirror and having a good chat with yourself, laying in bed with your eyes closed and mediating, or watching yourself go from a self declared “wheelchair sick kid” to the functioning human you want to be in reflections provided by your favorite children’s hospital, to reflect on your progress, change, and accomplishments in life, no matter where you are, is how you keep making that progress, and get where you want to go in life. Or as John Dewey so eloquently put it “we do not learn from experience. We learn from reflecting on experience.”


RAE MILSTEAD

There’s this story in the bible where Jesus goes into the garden of Gethsemane and he kneels down and gives this very agonizing and very human prayer which is “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him. And being in agony he was praying very fervently; and his sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground.” This is a time you see Jesus letting himself be doubtful and in pain and quite frankly, afraid of his future. He ultimately decides that God’s will is stronger than his and that he had to lay that burden down as to accept his crucification. You see this same theory in so many faiths where you can’t really change some of the hardest things in life you have to go through and that you cannot will it away. It’s just going to happen and the inevitability of it is probably the most daunting thing.

I believe that every person has to go through those really hard, humanizing moments which I call “brick-wall” moments – because they’re moments in life that absolutely shatter you and force you to grow into a person that you can live with for the rest of your life.

My junior year of High School, my brother committed suicide and not even a year later, my father passed away after a long history of alcohol-abuse and drug addiction. I was 18 and I was fatherless and I had lost someone to suicide. I was just an 18-year-old girl. The days after I lost my brother, I kept to a corner of my room, refusing to eat food or water and I just stared into nothingness- I was shocked as to what kind of world I was now living in. The weeks following, it felt like I was outside of myself, just watching this girl slowly walk through life with this frazzled look. I was devastated and lost. My identity was ripped away from me and I was placed into a completely different universe. What I thought I knew seemed to dissipate and slip through the synapses in my brain. I felt like everyone around me was moving so much quicker and it was impossible for me to reach out and grab onto anything. I was just flying backwards.

I grew up In the church and I saw the bible and Jesus as a collection of lessons on what to do when no one else could give you any advice because the challenge you were given was not something any human could change-like death. I often wondered if Jesus ever stopped to look at himself in a mirror and ask himself first off, How many braids could he make out of his beard? and secondly, what on earth was he thinking?

But he asks himself this and he asks God this in the Garden of Gethsemane. He asks God, why it has to be him? why does he have to bear this pain when he’s done everything he was supposed to? What can He do to get out of this fate? And God gives him the strength and understanding that it was going to be okay. These are the same questions that were asked when I was looking in the mirror at this tear stricken grieving girl who just didn’t know what to do anymore to escape this loss. Why did it have to be me? Why am I the one who has to keep living through this? How do I do this?

For the past month and a half, I have been learning about lent and the core values of the lessons learned throughout this 40 day period. I’ve learned that lent is this time where you take the not so great aspects of your faith and lift it up into the light for you to reflect on it and help strengthen your faith and in the catholic faith, get closer to god. The UU church has a topic for each day to reflect on and share a photo of- things like struggle, vulnerability, courage, dreams, and recovery are amongst these topics. Things that aren’t always pretty or what you would put front and center of your identity but are still definitely there. I’ve found that a lot of people, no matter what your path of spirituality is, find themselves tearing themselves apart which is the exact opposite of what Grace is. I hear my friends in my youth group here that our lives are precious human lives and in my catholic youth group that god will always love me and that no matter where I go in my life, I will always be a beloved daughter of the king most high, yet the hardest part of accepting Grace is giving myself that. How many of us have just mindlessly scroll through facebook or instagram and comparing ourselves to someone else? Or after spending hours watching other people live their lives, felt like a wasted attempt of success? How many of us get a grade back on a test or feedback from a boss or a comment from a loved one and just make that one thing your entire identity and thought process for the next 48 or something hours? It’s self reflection but it’s also painful self-infliction.

I think that’s the greatest human flaw. I watch so many amazing people work so incredibly hard and then tear themselves down. But as I started to read more stories in the bible and read more about all the strongest empowering role models rising up in the social justice world I’ve discovered that no one in the bible made it in the bible by just having an easy life. The strongest people I know have been through some really incredible losses and experiences to get where they are. Jesus knelt onto the ground and SWEAT BLOOD begging to give up what he felt was a burden but was actually the thing that made him so incredibly strong. So yes, I may have no idea who I am or where I am going right now in this world, I do know that me, along with everyone else in this room and outside this room is destined for greatness. We go through things to build character and what you’ve gone through does not define who you are but how you choose to get off the floor of the corner of your room and keep going does. Greatness is defined by the ability to persevere through adversity. And perseverance isn’t always a beautiful A on a calculus test two weeks after your father died. It’s giving yourself the grace to take a day to just cry it all out, even if it’s a full on ugly cry. Questions like “why did I have to be the one chosen to go through these things?” is part of self reflection and building a stronger sense of perseverance through this internalized adversity. You’re doing great and just keep trying to grow from the things that were given to you and wrap each other with this unstoppable love through grace and growth. Perseverance is giving yourself the grace to love yourself and your precious human life, no matter how destroyed life looks.


Text of Shanti Cornell and Abby Poirier’s homilies are not yet available but you can click the play button to listen.

Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below or copying and pasting this link. https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/first-unitarian-universalist/id372427776

PODCASTS


The Holiness of Hands

Bear W. Qolezcua
January 20, 2019
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

In the midst of so much civil turmoil and violence, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. marched hand-in-hand with others. His life and his ministry of reckless love taught us what it meant to truly care for others through the works of our hands and hearts. Let us explore the possibility that lives within us to do the work of nourishing, transforming, and seeking justice to build our Beloved Community.


Call to Worship

OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE
By Naomi King

When the world’s violence shatters the joy of a moment 
We pause and reach out for the hands that remain

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

When despair rises as a monster from the deep 
and drags down one of our own, our answer is that 

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

When hatred and anger rage in fire and suffering 
We bend to pick up the wounded, to bind up ourselves and

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

When fear whispers “build more gates” “add more locks” 
“the blessed are those who defend themselves,” 
we rock those fears to sleep and let them rest as

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

People will do unspeakably cruel and horrible things; 
we know this fact, we live and die this daily, 
all around the world, in every community and every wasteland. 
But we know the answer is found only with one action, and so 

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone can be healed. 
This is the truth we affirm. 
We live with courage and with a wider and wider circle 
of that force that bends our lives to ones of mercy, justice, and compassion. 

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

It’s the truth: just by being born you are loved. 
There is something within you and every person that can be loved.

WE OPEN OUR HEARTS WITH LOVE. 

In love, we pray for those families, those individuals, 
all the persons here and everywhere 
who are desperately sure that there is not enough love in the world for them 
to have some, who are desperately sure that they do not matter. 
In love with life, in love with the Beloved, 
we turn to answer that desperation with assurance: 
you are loved, you are lovable, we will and do love you. 
Now, attend to your life’s work: to love. 
It’s the only legacy that matters. 

AMEN.

Reading 

ANYONE’S MINISTRY
by Gordon B. McKeeman 

Ministry is 

a quality of relationship between and among human beings 
that beckons forth hidden possibilities. 

inviting people into deeper, more constant 
more reverent relationship with the world 
and with one another 

carrying forward a long heritage of hope and 
liberation that has dignified and informed 
the human venture over many centuries. 

being present with, to, and for others 
in their terrors and torments 
in their grief, misery, and pain. 

knowing that those feelings 
are our feelings, too. 

celebrating the triumphs of the human spirit 
the miracles of birth and life 
the wonders of devotion and sacrifice. 

witnessing to life-enhancing values 
speaking truth to power 
standing for human dignity and equity 
for compassion and aspiration. 

believing in life in the presence of death 
struggling for human responsibility 
against principalities and structures that ignore humane-ness 
and become instruments of death. 

It is all these and much, much more than all of them, 
present in the wordless 
the unspoken 
the ineffable. 

It is speaking and living the highest we know 
and living with the knowledge that it is 
never as deep, or as wide 
or as high as we wish. 

Whenever there is a meeting 
that summons us to our better selves, 
wherever our lostness is found 
our fragments are united 
or our wounds begin healing our spines stiffen and 
our muscles grow strong for the task 
there … is Ministry.

Sermon 

In preparation for this sermon, I did what every good presbyterian seminary graduate would do and started researching in the easiest way I could think of. It began with me flipping through the dozens of notebooks and journals from my time studying theology hoping that maybe, just maybe, one of the pages would LITERALLY fly out and tell me it was the perfect place from which I might draw my entire sermon without a single hitch … which didn’t happen. 

In all this searching, however, I found St. Augustine, who wrote, “What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and the needy. It has the eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of humanity. THIS is what love looks like.” 

So there I was writing and writing, trying to fight with my overall theme of the holiness of hands … for a sermon that also needed to involve the ministry of Martin Luther King, Jr. For a sermon about uplifting one another and lending a helping hand. For a sermon about mountains and valleys and marches and hope and distress and … I began feeling a LOT like Maria in the Sound of Music … up on that hill, dressed like a nun, spinning around while smiling into the camera at the perfect moment, belting out “the hills are alive with the sound of obvious connections that I’m not seeing”. And I rewrote this thing over 30 times. I’m not one to lead the expedition into theological territory, I leave that to the pastors, but I do believe myself to be an adequate sherpa. 

That’s why there were so many rewrites. I was trying to pack the necessary but bring as little extra weight as possible. The biggest lesson I wanted to impress here is that change begins the moment we decide to touch the divine, using the works of our hands and the strength of our commitment, to lift our world to a higher place. 

With our hands we share our power, our energy, our warmth and coolness. They open our “personal bubbles”, they welcome and guide, they stop and redirect. Hands can break barriers and bring us closer to one another in physical and spiritual ways. 

When I was younger, I used to sit on a big metal stool and watch my mother’s mothers, Trella and Noni, make challah, or my father’s mother, Maria Josefina, make tortillas. 

I often sat quietly on the floor as my father played his guitar or worked on his own sermons, poring through concordances. 

I loved watching my mom draw, paint, and sculpt pretty much any pliable material. She chiselled and sandblasted headstones into shape, confidently worked on car engines, built a barn. Her hands clasped together in earnest prayer at temple. They protected me fiercely. 

Hands not only touch … they express some of our deepest emotions in ways our words fail. They show hatred, concern, disgust, grief. 

When I see people protesting … I look for what they are doing with their hands. Are raised in fists of rebellion? Lifted in protection? Begging for an ear or mercy, for a crumb of humanity and compassion? 

I have held hands, both with those I love and those who I did not know I loved, as we marched for our lives, for the rights of others, for the memory of wrongs needing to be made right. 

I have held the hands, still warm but cooling rapidly, of people who otherwise would have been alone at their death. They have said hello, thankfully, more than they have said goodbye. 

I have felt hands raised in anger, in love, in companionship. 

I have picked up children who have fallen, wiped away tears, held sleeping babies, thrown them high in celebration and joy. 

Our calling tends to be fueled by the same fires that flare over and over along our journeys and hands, as you can tell by me repeating the word so much, have informed my own calling in this world in some profound way. They fascinate me. And because of all this, they are the tools I choose to empower our communal calling, tasked to do the work of care, to help support one another in our journeys out of the dark valleys and onto the highest plains and mountains of hope. 

Dr. King once, very memorably, spoke about being lifted up and standing at that mountain top hoping one day for all the people of earth to see the promised land that lies beyond. 

However, in that vision he also recognized that in order to get to the mountaintop we must first make it through the valley. And that valley … is wide and it is a dark place that may feel immeasurably deep from which so many of us feel we will never see ourselves free. 

Dr. King knew a lot about time spent there. His valley moments included three separate 108 mile long marches from Montgomery and Selma, for the right to register to vote. It included threats to his wife, his children, his own life. It included suicide attempts as a child. Depression throughout his life. So many sorrows and heartbreaks and losses but he knew that only in the darkest night can we see the stars. His valley was low, but his vision was high. He saw his ministry as one that represented and fought for the voiceless, the erased, the abused and forgotten. He saw his work as a minister in the light of duty to humanity, to equality, and for compassionate care for others. 

Now, I feel I need to warn you, I am going to quote a few verses of the Bible. However, I’m considering this to be more … “The Bible according to Bear” … 

Dr. King was fond of the parable about the Good Samaritan found in the book of Luke. The story is basically: Jesus was teaching in a temple and a lawyer/scribe … the translation is kinda both … a guy who studied the Torah and knew the WORDS by heart decided to test Jesus on his knowledge and maybe have him slip up on his own teachings about giving ourselves over to the care and service of others … and so he asked “Teacher. What must I do to inherit the promises of eternal life?” 

Rabbi Jesus responded with a question, because that’s how Rabbis do Rabbi-ing … speaking from a LOT of experience … and he asked “What does the law say we are supposed to do?” 

The lawyer/scribe guy replied “Love God with all of your heart, soul, strength, and mind and love your neighbor as yourself.” 

Jesus looked at him, probably in some “I am tired, can we please get to the point” but still polite way, and said “you know the answer to your own question. So go and do what you just said you know you are supposed to do.” 

Of course, the lawyer wanted to make sure he heard Jesus ‘correctly’ and asked him “well, who is my neighbor?” 

Ignoring the obvious, probably just blinking in silence for a moment, Jesus then did his Jesus thing and told a parable. 

“A man was walking down the sloped, windy, kinda scary path from Jerusalem to Jericho, and was attacked by robbers who took everything and left him for dead. A priest walked by, probably on his way to the temple, and followed the laws that dictated cleanliness for those who enter the temple by passing on the other side of the road. 

Later, a Levite came along. Levites were usually helpers in the temple so he too was probably scrubbed clean and wouldn’t be allowed in the temple for days if he touched the man. Choosing his work in the temple, he, too, passed by on the other side of the road. 

Then a man from Samaria happened by. He was a different race, a different religion, and not hung up on Levitical law. He saw the man, lying at the roadside, pitied him, cleaned and bound his wounds, put him on his animal and took him away to care for him … ” I’ll skip a bit here … So Jesus looked at Lawyer/Scribe guy and asked “out of the three of these who do you think was the neighbor to this poor man?” The lawyer replied “well, the one who showed him compassion.” Jesus, at this point probably rubbing his temples, finally said “Go and do the same, that’s all that you have to do.” 

Dr. King would stop and ponder the idea of what was meant by the Levite and the priest not stopping to help the man wounded on the side of the road to Jericho. He would propose what others quite often would, that perhaps they were busy, or there were laws forbidding them helping … but he didn’t dwell on that question or castigate the people who were following the laws of their religion. 

Instead, he looked toward the resolution of the story where a man stopped and cared for a stranger in need, lying beaten on the street, naked and bleeding. Dr. King said he saw that unlike the Levite and Priest who asked “if I stop and help what will happen to me?”, the Samaritan thought ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?’ 

For the purposes here I choose to see these questions in my own UU-esque secular humanist context of – if we do not take the time to look beyond the small bubble of the world in which we live and see the greater body of humanity that surrounds us, if we do not recognize our own neighbor, then how will we fulfill our mission, our own principles, and achieve the great aspiration of a truly full, supported, and inclusive human family? 

In our hands, personal and communal, lies the power to see the dream through. To take the ink of our work and tattoo it on our hearts so that every moment of our lives is filled with the lifeblood of love, compassion, strength, and unity. To work together and nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community. “We have been forced to a point where we are going to have to grapple with the problems that [humanity has] been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn’t force them to do it. Survival demands that we grapple with them now.” 

This great power is ours for the giving and the taking and it is our duty as human beings, participants in this world, to reach and touch one another’s lives. To leave an indelible impression of care and faithful works upon the face of this world. To own the good within ourselves and see it manifest outward, like sparks from our fingers. 

Dr. King reminds us that “We have two hands: one for receiving and one for giving. We aren’t silos to hoard away our gifts; we are channels expressly made to share our great wealth of humanity.” 

Dr. King did not want us to dwell in the valley. He didn’t want us to live defeated and lost. That wasn’t his idea of our purpose in life. His eyes saw a higher place for us, only reached by marching boldly forward as we climb up to the mountaintop with our neighbor, the folks who trudge and groan for mercy in their own depths, our siblings in this thing called life, and stand in body or spirit upon the shoulders of those who have come before us and continue to raise ourselves, generation by generation, higher out of our past that kept us separated and closed off from the broad spectrum of humanity … He said of his work, in his final speech, that “We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter … because I’ve been to the mountaintop. (I’ve been allowed) to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land! 

We must gasp together at the utter potential and diverse beauty of the world that is then set wide before us. 

Dr. King dreamed that one day we would climb to that higher place and then set out for the promised land of equity and equality and one day sit at the table together, embrace one another in common humanity, as we finally … finally are able to see that together we are free. And all because we chose to reach out, touch another soul, and the do the work required to make a difference. 

Benediction 

“We shall overcome. We shall overcome. We shall overcome someday. Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday.” 

Be dangerously unselfish. Do good recklessly. Be kind with abandon. Love brazenly. Be flagrant in your generosity. Dig a deep well from which you draw benevolence. You never know who still dwells in the valley. Don’t make life harder for either of you. Reach out, take a hand, and rise together so that we may all see the dawn break at the mountaintop. 

Go in peace. 


Most sermons during the past 19 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link below to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

SERMON INDEX

Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them by clicking on the podcast link below. 

PODCASTS

Truth Telling

Kye Flannery
August 12, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

So many people in so many ways have said “the truth shall set you free.” What are the truths that set us free? What sounds like truth but doesn’t liberate us at all? Together we’ll be exploring our experience, how we know ourselves, and how we speak from our deep truth to create better relationships and a better world.


sermon

I must say it’s easy to deliver one’s truth by sermon — pull your argument together, write it out — read it — I get to take 15-20 minutes of your time, uninterrupted — most of the time — 😉 Much harder in real life.

  • When you don’t think someone will care
  • When there’s no one to help
  • When we don’t want to risk a relationship
  • When you’re low on the totem pole…

as Ashley Judd, one of the actresses who came forward to help start the #metoo movement — in speaking out about harassment she’d faced from Harvey Weinstein, she pointed to this truth: ‘Were we supposed to call some fantasy attorney general of moviedom?’

No. No such person. It can be hard to tell the truth. It can put us in a place that feels dangerous, or is dangerous. But let’s face it. Our Universalism infuses how we view our own lives and the lives of others. We don’t believe that anybody’s condemned, and we believe that everybody and everything is interconnected. The time is ripe for us to get talking, and sharing our truths — with neighbors and law-makers, family members, oil companies and educators.

And I’ll just say there are a lot of grey heads out there that I bet have been telling difficult truths since I was in diapers. So, I’m sharing my truth today, and I look forward to hearing yours. Let’s start by bringing the spirits of other great truth-tellers into the room… who are they, in your life? Who lifts you up with the way they speak truth?

We’ve gathered those brave spirits into the space, a host of angels around us, supporting and inspiring.

One of the strongest voices of truth I know is a woman who spoke it with such courage, and it was so integral to her character, that she gave herself the name Truth — Sojourner Truth.

When I stop to think about that auditorium in Akron, Ohio — the Women’s Convention – May 1851 five male pastors had spoken — one, a universalist — and all had given theological reasons that it was inappropriate for women to have the vote or speak in public to advocate for themselves.

Nobody asked Sojourner to speak — she just stood up and walked to the podium. Organizer Frances Gage ALLOWED her speak, but all around there were rumbles from white women about a black woman speaking at the assembly. 1

If you were striving for respectability, it was considered unseemly for a woman to speak in assemblies or churches… 2 Olympia Brown wasn’t ordained by the universalists until 1863. But Sojourner stands, and she speaks:

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man – when I could get it – and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne five children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?”

Just grok for a moment the courage it took to say that to a room full of white folks, confronting us with our stereotypes about strength, and womanhood, and blackness, all at once —

Book Crucial Conversations – I recommend it – I have been enjoying it and have incorporated some of its wisdom into what I bring you this morning. Here’s how I see the process of truth-telling:

We must first know our truths.
Then we must share our truth while staying in connection.
Then, we must find the path forward.
Courage – Listening – Translation – Creation

We must first know our truths.
Sometimes threats to our health, financial stability, physical safety, immigration status mean it isn’t safe to tell a truth that needs to be told. The first rule of caring for each other is believing that we each know what is safest for us, and to honor that.
But within the bounds of safety…

Is there something you really need to tell the truth about…? It’s possible to shy away from truth, even inside our own hearts, because it’s messy, because we suspect people don’t want to hear it, because we’re ashamed of it, because it’s ugly or painful.

And it takes time to transform the things that might be holding us back.
Truth-telling takes connection. Do we really want connection?
Truth-telling takes fairness. Are we willing to be fair?
Truth-telling means working through our fear. Are we afraid?

Buddhist teacher and climate activist Joanna Macy writes about fear of climate disaster, what we’re doing to the planet keeps us from even looking at it. 3 Fear keeps us ignorant of our own motivations and feelings, not to mention the feelings and motivations of others. So, this path to knowing our own truth involves facing fear, being with fear. After all, we can’t ask others to be brave and lay something on the line unless we set the example.

I know I get this *ding* when things fall into place — when I’m seeing from a big enough perspective that both the other person’s truth and my truth can fit there together, when I believe I can see a person’s goodness and good intent while also knowing I have a piece of the truth that they need. 4 And it is my job to walk with them to this truth… starting with what we both want, and showing how I believe we can get there.

I want to share words from a woman who is masterful at this.

Rigoberta Menchu — 1992 Nobel acceptance Speech… “Peace cannot exist without justice, justice cannot exist without fairness, fairness cannot exist without development, development cannot exist without democracy, democracy cannot exist without respect for the identity and worth of cultures and peoples… We are not myths of the past, ruins in the jungle, or zoos. We are people and we want to be respected, not to be victims of intolerance and racism… It is said that our indigenous ancestors, Mayas and Aztecs, made human sacrifices to their gods. It occurs to me to ask: How many humans have been sacrificed to the gods of Capital in the last five hundred years?”

It’s clear she’s done some very hard work – figuring out what’s in her heart, and also how it doesn’t fit what the dominant narrative said about her people. 5

I hear her facing fear — here’s what they say about us — they say we’re animals, savages — and I don’t accept it.

I hear her walking people along the path, from the end goal – peace – back to its roots — respect for the cultures and identities of all peoples…

There’s something so strong and undeniable in our words when we face our fear.

I really believe that we can’t connect with others on the issue racism unless we’ve connected to our own racism… I want to tell you a story about that.

There was a man I met at a church where I worked in Boston. He did cleaning in the office. We became friendly over time and I learned that his family was from the Dominican Republic. He’d had some brushes with the law, but was now doing better. He had a lovely little boy who I met once or twice. I was just getting to know him. I liked him, he was soft-spoken — eager to learn new things — One morning he came into the office late and he… I couldn’t figure out what was going on with him. I asked him the regular questions, how are you, how was your weekend, how’s your son — but he didn’t seem to comprehend my questions, he was barely able to answer them. I let him be and went about my day. I started to wonder in that moment if … maybe he wasn’t very smart. Did he not understand my questions?

There was a listening circle that happened later that month, talking and listening facilitated circles on the topic of race. I learned what happened that morning. That morning he had been driving a green car, and there had been a call about a crime, they were looking for “a black man in a green car.” He’d been stopped by the police in his car, put face-down on the pavement in the rain in front of his 1.5-year-old son, who was in the back seat of the car.

Suddenly I felt that grief and horror WITH HIM — anger — such a sense of loss — what would it have been like if I had been a trusted person for him to talk to —

Him telling his truth was me Claiming sorrow that had been mine all along, I just didn’t know it — Cultural grief. And we need to be able to both share this and hear this from our people.

Francis Weller, therapist, grief counselor in California 6

He writes about grief and conducts grief rituals, encouraging us to get in touch with the grief we are all carrying. He writes: “We send into the shadow the parts of ourselves that we deem unacceptable to ourselves or to others, hoping to disown them… The lack of courtesy and compassion surrounding grief is astonishing, reflecting an underlying fear and mistrust of this basic human experience… We must find the courage, once again, to walk the wild edge of grief.”

If we don’t even know how to feel one another’s pain when they’ve had a death in the family, how can we grapple as a culture with the effects of slavery, of failing refugees and asylum seekers, how can we willingly get into the imaginary space of truly GETTING what we’re doing to the planet, minute by minute? There’s that courage again —

We shape our lives to get away from discomfort! But as Pema Chodron puts it: “That’s the definition of Ego, just trying to get away from our experience, which never adds up to inner strength…it just makes us more scared and more uptight. And saddest of all, it isolates us and cuts us off from each other…” 7

We actually move away from each other because we’re afraid we can’t handle the things others bring up in us.

BOTTOM LINE:
When pursuing truth, we must do those things which cultivate our courage.

What gives you courage?

Jumping in the springs gives me courage. Everytime, I dread it, and everytime I do it, I’m glad I did.

This leads us into sharing our truth, while staying in connection.

(Translation)
WHEN I TELL THE STORY I just shared with you — about my friend who was harassed by the police because he was a man of color driving a green car– it becomes easier for people who haven’t understood how racism functions in our society to understand how deep it runs — how much it hurts — both of us — him, and me — and how UNTIL I KNEW ABOUT IT, he was carrying all the grief and heaviness of that experience. He was the only one who knew. One of us was living in a police state, the other wasn’t.

So I’m not often going to tell someone the “truth” about their own racism. But I will tell them the truth of my racism, and that’s opened up more than one conversation. Because that is MY story, my vulnerability, my shame and grief.

Jungian psychologist James Hillman 8 — INDIVIDUATION — “Transparent Person, who is seen and seen through, foolish, who has nothing left to hide, who has become transparent through self-acceptance; her soul is loved, revealed… she is just what she is, freed from paranoid concealment… her transparency serves as a prism for the world….”

I like this idea. When we have courage to be seen and seen through, we become prisms. You know how being around a truthful person is like being around a clear light, when they use their power for good and not evil? I think that’s what he means. Sometimes, a truth is simple — that doesn’t mean it’s easy to say.

  • “I don’t like the way this conversation is going”
  • “I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s at all fair to say that Muslim people are dangerous, I don’t see evidence that this is the case.”
  • “If you want to talk seriously, we need to talk in terms that are serious and respectful.”
  • “I see the changes happening in our environment and I’m afraid for us… I see our planet and our species in danger.”
  • “I don’t feel that you’re doing your share of the work, and I’m tired of picking up the slack.”
  • “I know you’re a spiritual person, and I expect more compassion from you.”

For me, this is the hardest part — engaging with another person’s truth without resorting to SILENCE or VIOLENCE.

Silence
Purposely withholding information from the dialogue, to avoid creating a problem.

  • Masking – understating or selectively showing what you actually think
  • Avoiding – not addressing the real issues, shifting the focus to others
  • WIthdrawing or even exiting

Violence
Convincing, controlling or compelling others to our view

  • Controlling: Cutting others off, overstating facts, speaking in absolutes, dominating the conversation
  • Labelling – stereotyping, name-calling
  • Attacking – belittling or threatening the other person

As truth-finders, we run into our own discomfort, As truth-tellers, we are likely to run into our own AND OTHER PEOPLE’S cognitive dissonance – ” The discomfort experienced when we simultaneously hold two or more contradictory beliefs, ideas, or values.”

For instance,

  • How could we be walking through everyday life like things are normal if our planet is in crisis?
  • How could a man I’ve been friendly with cross the line into assault or harassment? How could it be that I have been a predator for 40 years?
  • I always thought other people were racist. What if I am too!?

AT THAT POINT our work is three-fold: not to get hooked on our own emotion, not to get hooked on other people’s, and to help them try to disentangle if they’re stuck.

Creating safe space
Those who are terrible at it: Ignore the need for safety, express without regard for how it will be received
Those who are good at it: May sense that safety is at risk, but do the wrong thing — water down content, which avoids the real problem
Those who are best at it: Step out of the content of the conversation, make it safe, then re-enter
Stepping out of content and then moving back into the content of the conversation.
When someone (including ourselves) begins to move into silence or violence, we recognize it.
Say, hey, what’s happening for you right now? Address the kind and generous soul in front of you who’s not feeling safe. How can you help to reduce this, without stepping away from truth? 9

I’ve done this with my mom — Ha, this was a pretty funny conversation, if you have a daughter or a mom you can probably hear how this went in your head 😉
Mom, can we talk about what this is bringing up for you?
“Don’t you chaplain me!!”

I didn’t stop chaplaining though. In a really defensive place, a person is wanting to be able to relax and trust, but can’t. We have to establish — sometimes over time — that our approach is loving and dependable — Marge Piercy: “fight persistently like the vine which brings down the tree”

Being aware of the other person’s emotions and our own emotions!! Being able to hold both of those at once! 10 Tonglen Practice. This is breathing in what’s difficult, and breathing out something lighter. Breathing in what’s difficult, breathing out something lighter. Breathing in what’s difficult, allowing it to open our hearts and wash over us and the situation, lightness and peace.

In that spirit, we find the path forward.
The examples of this peaceful courage are in this congregation and all around us

Isabel Pascual is a 42-year-old strawberry picker, She was interviewed in Time Magazine , when Time named the #metoo ladies their Person of the Year. Isabel is not her real name. Isabel was harassed in the workplace by a man who threatened to harm her and her children. “That’s why I kept quiet,” Isabel said. “I felt desperate. I cried and cried. But, thank God, my friends in the fields supported me. So I said, ‘Enough.’ I lost the fear. It doesn’t matter if they criticize me. I can support other people who are going through the same thing.”

Isabel spoke out about sexual harassment while working without documents. Her courage gives me chills.

Part of the creativity of finding the path forward is going where we don’t normally go, where others reside, (#metoo is a movement of both movie stars and migrant workers) — people continuing to put themselves on the line for others — courage and creativity go hand-in-hand.

When finding our path through truth together, we pratice courage — listening — translation — creativity — and, I believe, we must cultivate cheerfulness —

In Shambhala Buddhism there are several sources of energy and power for the self — different sources of life force. The one they call Windhorse: “gallantry, cheerfulness, upliftedness, gentleness” (Thea!) “Primordial confidence” — Let’s just breathe with our windhorse right now — deep breaths, bringing up that primordial confidence, gallantry, cheerfulness — 11

Taking up the path of truth doesn’t mean we are perfect In fact, if we are perfect, we probably aren’t practicing very much. 12

Another favorite mystic: Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul “The soul becomes greater and deeper through the living out of the messes and the gaps — this is the negative way of the mystics”

COURAGE – Listening – Translation – Creation

What’s the worst that could happen? What do the voices tell you? That we won’t be liked or respected? That we’ll lose our words? And there is a voice inside me that says if I speak out I’ll die — for some people that may be true.

But for me, in most situations, it isn’t. So if that voice speaks to you, too, I leave you with some words from sister Sojourner: “I’m not going to die, I’m going home like a shooting star! ”

Benediction

(are you holding a truth that needs to be told that will bring healing?)

In the tradition of UU ordination, we lay hands on ministers to offer them strength,e energy, courage. I say, let us join our hands right now and bless one another as we move forward into the world as ministers:

We bless each other as seekers of truth. We start with the courage to listen. In the words of John O’Donohue:

To all that is chaotic in you, let there come silence…
Let there be an opening into the quiet that lies beneath the chaos,
Where you find the peace you did not think possible,
And see what shimmers in the storm.

We bless each other as sharers of our truth — It is in us to offer safety for ourselves and others in our words. In the words of Audre Lorde:

…when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.

Let us bless each other as finders of the path forward — in the words of Rumi

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.

May it be so, Amen.


1 There are only a few accounts of this speech, version I’m going with was shared by Ms. Gage, 12 years later, in her autobiography. So take it with a grain of salt.

2 Though there are some itinerant women preachers from this time who were supported by specific communities… three of them left behind autobiographies… Sisters of the Spirit, Indiana Univ Press

3 She created an activist community to check out online: “The Work that Reconnects”

4 “Every time God’s children have thrown away fear in the pursuit of honesty, trying to communicate, understood or not – miracles have happened.” – Duke Ellington

5 International Indigenous People’s Day was this week — August 9 — gratitude for Rigoberta, the water protectors still doing the work of protecting the earth and our water supply here in the U.S.

6 Francis Weller “The Wild Edge of Sorrow”

7 Staying with Discomfort From Fear to Fearlessness

8 “Myth of Analysis”

9 It’s totally possible to do this badly! I remember speaking directly to a man who shouted at me and cut me off once in a board meeting — pulling him aside when we took our break and asking him what was going on, and saying that I didn’t feel that was appropriate, asking if we needed to talk about what feelings I was bringing up for him. Unfortunately, this set him off again — my tone, rather than helping him to feel safe, threatened his sense of calm and safety, which he was keeping by dominating the conversation. I think this made him feel shame and anger to boot.

10 When deepening engagement, we must cultivate Tolerance/Patience/Khsanti – Tonglen practice

11 Windhorse energy “Warrior’s gentleness: this is elegance, not arrogance. This is fearlessness, not heavy-handedness. Genuineness is not trying to convince ourselves something is there when it doesn’t exist. Gentleness is not being polite… Windhorse could be described as a bank of energy, which is the product of genuineness…” –Chogyam Trungpa

12 Joanna Macy’s 5 vows of a leader in the climate movement. Mix of our own growth and courage and engagement:

  • Committing to the healing of the world and the welfare of all beings. To live in Earth more lightly and less violently
  • Drawing strength and guidance from the living Earth, from our brothers and sisters of all species.
  • To help others in their work and to ask for help
  • To pursue a daily spiritual practice that clarifies my mind, strengthens my heart

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 18 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.

Making Our Alphabet Soup

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
Guest Speakers: Michael Thurman, Becca Brennan-Luna, and Tomas Medina
August 5, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

With the LGBTQ Pride Festival and Parade coming soon, members of our “Alphabet Soup” group will share their stories of finding a spiritual home at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin.


Call to Worship

We Answer the Call of Love
Responsive Reading By Julia Corbett-Hemeyer

In the face of hate,
We answer the call of love.
In the face of exclusion,
We answer the call of inclusion.
In the face of homophobia,
We answer the call of LGBTQ rights.
In the face of racism,
We answer of justice for all races.
In the face of xenophobia,
We answer the call of pluralism.
In the face of misogyny,
We answer the call of women’s rights.
In the face of demagoguery,
We answer the call of reason.
In the face of religious intolerance,
We answer the call of diversity.
In the face of narrow nationalism,
We answer the call of global community.
In the face of bigotry,
We answer the call of open-mindedness.
In the face of despair,
We answer the call of hope.

As Unitarian Universalists, we answer the call of love —
now more than ever.

Reading

Let Us Make this Earth a Heaven
By Tess Baumberger

Let us make this earth a heaven, right here, right now.
Who knows what existences death will bring?
Let us create a heaven here on earth
where love and truth and justice reign.

Let us welcome all at our Pearly Gates, our Freedom Table,
amid singing and great rejoicing,
black, white, yellow, red, and all our lovely colors,
straight, gay, transgendered, bisexual, and all the ways
of loving each other’s bodies.
Blind, deaf, mute, healthy, sick, variously-abled,
Young, old, fat, thin, gentle, cranky, joyous, sorrowing.

Let no one feel excluded, let no one feel alone.
May the rich let loose their wealth to rain upon the poor.
May the poor share their riches with those too used to money.
May we come to venerate the Earth, our mother,
and tend her with wisdom and compassion.
May we make our earth an Eden, a paradise.
May no one wish to leave her.

May hate and warfare cease to clash in causes
too old and tired to name; religion, nationalism,
the false false god of gold, deep-rooted ethnic hatreds.
May these all disperse and wane, may we see each others’ true selves.
May we all dwell together in peace and joy and understanding.
Let us make a heaven here on earth, before it is too late.
Let us make this earth a heaven, for each others’ sake.

Homilies

Michael Thurman

How I found this church. It was the 90s, Every week there was another funeral another friend diagnosed with AIDS. My LGBTQ family were being villafied around the globe. we were feeling scared, guilty and helpless. We were living in full crisis mode. Feeling alone and shunned by family, friends and the whole community at times.

We leaned on each other and time was spent on vigils, helping our dying friends as much as we could. Cooking for them, some of us opened our homes so during the day no one had to be left alone, while their partners worked. Our social lives had changed from bars and dinner parties to hospital visits, Benefits and collecting donations. We got the notice for a 24 hour benefit called The mostly music marathon. It was being held in a church?

Now I was raised in a Southern Baptist Church. (Its where I learned the word HYPOCRISY) I grew up hearing the hate spewed out in my church against homosexuality. I was lucky though, coming out was no problem for me. I came out after high school graduation in 1979 and my mother always had my back. She would get upset while we were out together and ask “Why do you have to let everyone know your gay?” Because they need to know gay people exist! My mom and step dad even left the family church after a sermon (as they described) as a ignorant unkind attack on their son.

So the day of the mostly music marathon I got prepared, picked out my clothes made sure my belt matched my shoes and then started to prepare for entering a church again.

Practiced my smile and nod I would muster up when I heard “Love the sinner Hate the sin” “accept Jesus Christ as your savior and denounce your homosexuality before you die and you might make it to heaven” and hoped I did not get whiplash when smacked upside my head with the bible. My montra was brain first mouth second.

We pulled up in front of the church, walked to the front double doors and the first thing we see is a sign that stated “This church has a open door policy and accepts all that step through its doors” WOW! That still makes my hair stand up on end (and with all this hair that is saying something) As we walked in we were welcomed by several church members and smiled at, a little small talk, no entrapment so far! Then we hit the sanctuary and found a place to set. As I sat there a kind of peace fell over me. Here in this church there was every kind of person, all colors, ages, sexuality and families with children, not afraid to be around us gays. During intermission in the fellowship hall got to meet and talk to members of the church, gay and straight all welcoming and thanking us for being there. Heard of the gay mens group that met once a month. Even heard a rumor the new pastor was going to be a gay man.

The next sunday got up and went to our first Unitarian service. After a few more services my partner and I became members. Worked on committees gathered things for the annual fundraiser auctions. Being gay here was just a normal thing. I had found my place of peace. Now as all things do, things change, a breakup, a move out of town, several health challenges and church fell to the side. Then on my birthday a couple of years ago a small gift from a fellow Unitarian. My First Unitarian Universilist name tag. I found my place of peace again back in this church!

It was a little confusing that first Sunday back, All those Rainbow stickers on a lot of name tags had me confused. I thought “this church has become overrun with the gays” Then realizing allies wore them too, my heart felt so supported. Thanks allies for all the love and support. You are definitly part of my peace here. THANK YOU.

Becca Brennan-Luna

Hi, my name is Becca Brennan-Luna. I have been a member of First UU since last September, so almost a year. My wife Amy and I have been married for over two years and together for over 6 years. We had a few setbacks, and some discrimination at first, but we just recently found out that we have become licensed foster parents!

I was raised Mexi-Catholic in El Paso, TX. My family went to church every Sunday. We celebrated Christmas and Easter and gave up something for the 40 days of Lent. We were REALLY super Catholic! It was a big part of my life for a long time. I was baptized, had my First Holy Communion, and my Confirmation in the Catholic Church. I grew up believing that if we prayed and sacrificed and confessed our sins, that we would go to Heaven. I believed that God created us in His image and that He loves us, but that He would punish us if we sinned.

I’m sure we all have an idea about what the Catholic Church thinks about homosexuality, right? Well, Pope Francis is a good guy, but it was different when I was growing up. I heard a lot of anti-gay sentiment and hate and judgement based on fear. Despite this I did believe that God would be there for us when we needed Him. I still believe that, and I still pray. Okay, maybe my image of God is different now. He is a She, for one.

My family was very close and very loving. But we definitely had a certain way of doing things, and a way things were supposed to be. Homosexuality is not something my family talked about all that much. My mom had one gay friend who lived in California and a distant gay cousin who lived in Mexico. We saw the friend sometimes, and my family was pleasant with him, but there was always an air of mystery about the men and their “lifestyle.” It certainly wasn’t something that would be acceptable for me in my family’s eyes.

I guess growing up I had crushes on boys. Yes, I swooned after the New Kids on the Block. But maybe that’s because that’s what all the other girls did. Maybe that’s just what I was “supposed” to do I honestly didn’t know crushing on girls was an option. I remember feeling very ashamed and confused for a long time.

I attended an all-girls private Catholic high school, with nuns and everything! If the mean girls didn’t like you, they would spread a rumor that you were a (whisper) leeeesbian! Oh, the horror if that rumor got spread around about you! Everyone would avoid you like the plauge and make ugly faces at you for being SUCH an abomination. Needless to say, finally coming to terms with my sexual orientation was a lengthy and difficult process. College was great for me because I moved away from home, met like-minded people, and felt accepted for who I was. I understood who Becca really was for the first time . So, I shared a bit of my coming-out story and we’re supposed to be talking about our experience at First Unitarian Universalist. I’ll get to that.

Even though I felt a little betrayed by the Catholic Church, I still continued to go for a while. I longed for that spiritual connection with a community. I loved the music, the singing, the prayers and “Peace be With You.” At first it was kind of ok to be there. Even though I personally was never turned away, it got harder to ignore the fact that I was not welcome.

I heard about First Unitarian Universalist from a few different people, so my wife and I decided to try it out. I LOVED it! People were so welcoming! It seemed like everyone was friendly with one another. The music was so lively and uplifting. I love hearing Reverend Chris and Reverend Meg’s messages acceptance, inclusion and love. I enjoyed the services very much.

What means so much to me was that I ALWAYS feel like I belong here. I joined the People of Color group, Alphabet Soup, and I got involved with Service Saturdays, Sack-Lunch making and Religious Education. Im just so thrilled to be a part of such a wonderful community. I have everything I used to love about my old church, minus all the judgement. I feel like I am welcome and accepted. I feel like I am home.

Tomas Medina

When I was growing up, my father used to tell me, “Gay people should be lined up and shot.” When I was growing up, the worst thing you could be called in school was faggot. In junior high and high school, I was called faggot, a lot. In fact, I had such a miserable time in high school, that I skipped my senior year altogether, opting to test out and start college at age 17.

The church I was brought up in was also not a place of refuge for me. I was taught that I should love the homosexual sinner, but that a homosexual act was a mortal sin, which not only prevented me from taking communion but would also condemn me to hell, if I was unlucky enough to die before having the chance to confess my sin.

As you might imagine, as a young man wondering about my own sexual orientation, I never felt particularly safe at home, or at school or at church. When I came out at 17 to my parents, I was seriously worried that they would react negatively and throw me out. They didn’t throw me out, but they did send me to a psychologist whose advice to me was to not look at the men on my college campus who were wearing shorts. Fortunately, at my college, I was part of support group for LGBTQIA students, and I quickly decided that I didn’t need to see a psychologist to help me get over my gay feelings. What I decided instead was that it was my parents who needed help to get over their homophobia.

Coming out to my parents was not the only time I felt like coming out might be risky. As a gay man, deciding whether to come out is something that I have to weigh on an almost daily basis. With every new situation and every new person that I encounter, I do a quick calculus as to whether it is safe for me to be explicit about being gay. And I don’t think I’m being paranoid about this calculus. Even in New York City’s Chelsea neighborhood, a very gay neighborhood, I’ve recently been called faggot by men who I not only had no romantic interest in but was downright frightened of. And I remember that when I was being interviewed for a job by a judge in a NYC court, he asked me how I could live in downtown NY where there were so many homosexuals and wasn’t I afraid that I’d get AIDS. There are only two places, where I don’t feel the need to do the mental calculus as to whether to come out. One is when I’m somewhere that is predominantly gay and caters to the gay community, like a gay club, gym, or beach. The other exception is here at First UU Austin. I think it’s remarkable that there is a community that is majority non LGBTQIA where I don’t have to wonder what the consequence will be if explicitly acknowledge my gay identity.

Here at First UU being lesbian gay bisexual transgendered, intersexual, questioning, asexual or straight is not something that is used to define us. But, at the same time, our struggles with the world outside of this First UU community are acknowledged, and our triumphs are celebrated.

Being part of a community that is majority non LGBTQIA , in which I feel both safe and acknowledged, has had transformative benefits for me. For one thing, it has allowed me to find a spiritual home. I couldn’t explore my spirituality anywhere where being gay somehow made me lesser than anyone else.

Something else I appreciate about First UU is that it supports our Alphabet Soup group. A group exclusively for those who identify as part of both the LGBTQIA and UU community. It’s a wonderful treat to be able to meet with other First UU’s who share similar experiences and to be able to relate to each other without the need to explain ourselves. And, not all members of the LGBTQIA community at large are interested in exploring spirituality, so it’s great t be able to form relationships with other member of this community who share similar spiritual yearnings.

I also love that at First UU I have formed relationships and friendships with many people outside of the LGBTQIA community. Being supported and loved by so many people in this congregation, has given me the confidence to be more myself in the outside world. As I find myself taking leadership positions in the church, I also find myself less willing to keep my opinions and beliefs to myself in my relationships outside of the church, whether I’m with family, friends, or at work.

Perhaps the most transformative aspect of being part of the First UU community is the optimism it has given me. I am confident that if we can build a loving and supportive community in here, it can happen in the outside world too. Being part of this community has given me more confidence to take the risk when I do the calculus as to whether to come out, yet again. And I know that every time I and others in the LGBTQIA community comes out, yet again, the world takes a small step towards becoming the world we know it can be.


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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 18 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.