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Rev. Marisol Caballero
August 21, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

August 20 is the Austin Pride Festival and Parade, and the party will continue on Sunday at First UU! Join us for a celebration of love, justice, and perseverance.

Call to Worship

Gratitude to My Ancestors
by Rev. Marta Valentin

With honor and respect, these eyes see for you
all manner of life you could have not imagined.
My lips move with the rhythm of your words
flowing through me,
my tongue caressing each morsel of wisdom
I am graced to pass on.
Your DNA rides my veins
and with every breath I take,
your cautious steps from the past
toward a fuller life become
bold moves I make toward my destiny.
Together, we wrap arms
around a new generation,
here to become who were born to be,
to cast their magic as we once did
and bless each day for their ability to do so.

For you, dear ancestors, we live this day.

Reading

“A Litany for Survival”
by Audre Lorde

For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours;

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full
we are afraid of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty
we are afraid we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and 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

Sermon

Two years ago, I preached the Sunday before Austin Pride and called the service Big Gay Sunday- partly because this title was vague enough to give me plenty of wiggle room for the direction of my sermon while meeting our newsletter deadline, and partly because, let’s be honest, putting the words “Big Gay” in front of any event makes it sound like it’ll be ten times more fun! “Big Gay Lunch Buffet.” “Big Gay Grocery Run.” “Big Gay Tax Audit.” See? It works! And that service was so much fun. The Intergenerational choir sang Lady Gaga’s, “Born This Way” and wore feather boas, dangled a disco ball, and got us dancing in the aisle.

Last year, I wasn’t the one scheduled to preach on the Sunday before Pride, and I’m not sure if I would have called the service “Big Gay Sunday” again, but no fewer than five different people have asked me in the past year, “Why don’t we do Big Gay Sunday anymore? Is there a reason we stopped doing it?” Once. We had done it once before, but in the memory of at least several, Big Gay Sunday was a beloved annual church tradition that had inexplicably disappeared.

So, back by popular demand, is ye old tradition of yore, Big Gay Sunday, The Sequel: Bigger, Gayer, and Sunday-er than ever before! A pep rally, of sorts, to get us good and hyped for First UU’s participation in next Saturday’s Pride festival and parade.

Today also happens to be my Sunday swan song, as it’s my last Sunday with you all as one of your ministers. My last day on the job here is August 31st, and you will see me at Pride, but I won’t be at church next Sunday, so I feel a special responsibility to go out with a bang and give this service a real party feel.

Pride is an annual celebration of survival by people who, due to cultural saturation of both homophobia and violence, was never meant to survive. Yet here we are, together with our many allies, speaking, singing, dancing, advocating, simply living in ways that our ancestors never imagined. We are their eyes, their breath, their tongues, their arms, their help them bless the generations coming up.

In Spanish, the word for ancestors, antepasados, directly translates to “those who have passed before.” Circumstance has left my family many unanswered questions about our genetic relations, so I find this definition of ancestors appealing & quite useful. In this way, my ancestors; our ancestors, need not be blood relation, but rather those who have gone before, leaving us behind to continue their legacies.

I’d like to introduce you to one of our ancestors. Her picture is on your orders of service. Her name was Marsha P. Johnson. She was born Malcolm Michaels Jr. in 1944 New Jersey and lived as a transgender woman in lower Manhattan. Of course, back then, the terms she used to describe herself were, “transvestite,” “transsexual,” and “queen.” She spent much of her adult life experiencing homelessness. Sometimes Marsha slept at the home of friends, in Times Square movie theatres, or anywhere else she could find to lay her head. In the documentary about her online, “Pay It No Mind: The Life and Times of Marsha P. Johnson,” a friend recalls once seeing her asleep under a table in the Flower District. She was known for wearing elaborate crowns of fresh flowers on her head and was often given colorful varieties by the wholesalers she made friends with. Her friend recalls asking the vendor, “Why do you let her sleep under your table like that?” and the man answered, “Because she’s holy.”

It’s true. “Saint Marsha,” as she was called by folks in Greenwich Village, though poor, had no attachment to material things and would literally give the shirt off her back, or food, or money, to total strangers in need. Often harassed and brutalized, she somehow kept a genuinely cheerful disposition. She said that the P. in Marsha P. Johnson stood for “pay it no mind.”

She was spending the night of her birthday, June 27th, 1969 at the local dive bar in her neighborhood. Calling it a “dive” was correct, but calling it a “bar” was a stretch. It was illegal to operate a gay bar in New York City then. In fact, it was illegal to serve a customer if they revealed that they identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, or trans*. Because of this, a few mafia-run establishments popped up along Christopher Street that catered to “the fairies,” without liquor licenses and the police were paid to look the other way. The gay men in most of these bars did not take too kindly to the presence of “queens,” so the Stonewall Inn became the place with a clientele made up mostly of young, gender variant and poor people of color. The Stonewall bar became a refuge and often makeshift LGBT homeless youth shelter. Kids who had to run away or were kicked out because of who they were could panhandle during the day to get the $3 entrance fee and spend the whole night inside and out of the cold. In a place with no running water, just a tub behind the bar to rinse and reuse glasses, no one monitored whether everyone inside was a paying customer.

No one who was there remembers exactly how it all started, but that night, the police raided the Stonewall Inn in the wee hours of the morning of June 28th, arresting 13 people for being caught either with three or more items of clothing that did not match their assigned gender or dancing with someone of the same gender. Everyone who was there agreed that Marsha and her friend and fellow queen, Silvia Rivera, were among the first to fight back. Someone threw something. Some say it was Marsha who through a shot glass and yelled, “I got my human rights, too!” at the police. Within minutes, the Stonewall Inn was fighting back in a full riot and the LGBT Rights Movement was born.

The riot went on for six days. At one point, a can-can line of queens formed and confronted the police with a song as they kicked their legs, Rockettes style, “We are the Stonewall Girls, we wear our hair in curls… ” It was this courage and daring by people who had very little to lose, like Marsha and Sylvia, that inspired such resistance. The amazing this about these riots is that yes, there was violence as these people fought back against years of subhuman treatment, but they also used camp humor, sarcasm, song, and dance. They didn’t lose themselves in the violence, but rather used the very essence of their community as an act of resistance. It reminds me of one of my favorite lines from the musical Rent, “the opposite of war isn’t peace, it’s creation!”

A year after the riots, New York’s queer community gathered for an anniversary march from the Stonewall Inn to Central Park. The organizers remember that they were so terrified or being attacked or arrested (or both) that first year, that it was more of a run than a march. But, when they arrived at Central Park and looked back at the crowd, it had grown to hundreds. This is how Pride marches and parades were born.

Today, Pride celebrations still employ the use of creative resistance. There are queer cable networks, well-recognized & well-funded LGBTQ rights advocacy organizations, there are LGBTQ Chambers of Commerce, softball leagues, legal firms, youth centers, you name it. When I was growing up, I did not know of one single out and successful celebrity. These days, it’s not completely without occasional serious professional consequences (remember Michael Sam’s NFL career), but it’s no longer shocking news when a major celebrity comes out of the closet. In fact, if a celebrity chooses to keep their personal lives private, as Jodie Foster did for so many years, they are negatively judged by the public as self-loathing and cowardly.

Of course, there are legal battles that have been won through our efforts, as well. We now enjoy the right to marry in all 50 states. We can adopt children. We can openly serve in the military. Our queer culture has saturated the arts so thoroughly that those among us who identify as straight no longer bat an eye to see a queer character on their favorite primetime TV shows.

Pride is about being celebratory, yet cognizant of the footsteps we travel in. A way has certainly been paved, by Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera and many other forgotten heroes of the Stonewall Rebellion. Hollywood depictions of the event emphasize white male characters, even though veterans of the event all agree that the LGBTQ rights movement was begun by trans women of color. Our predecessors laid their lives on the line, yet there is still so much work yet to do. Marriage equality did not do anything to ensure proper healthcare for LGBTQ people, or protection from employment and housing discrimination, and many other rights still denied us.

Our greater community, including our straight allies, is still shocked with grief over the Pulse nightclub shooting, which left 50 dead, the majority of which were queer people of color. I include in these numbers the shooter, who himself was a casualty of homophobic, hyper-masculinity that has arisen as a result of our LGBTQ community’s recent gains. As much as we would like to attribute 100% of the assassin’s actions to affiliation with a terrorist organization across the sea, such violence against queer people is historically as American as apple pie.

As society swings left on acceptance, there are those whose bigotry has not been given time to accept these new standards, though it has been almost fifty years since the Stonewall Rebellion. Such hatred has seen an increase in recent years, and trans women of color have borne the brunt of it. Last I checked, a few days ago, the death toll for trans women killed in 2016 had climbed up to 19. Almost all of them were trans women of color.

The majority of violence against the most vulnerable in our community goes unreported and/or unprosecuted. In fact, Marsha P. Johnson’s death by drowning in 1992 was quickly ruled a suicide, though her friends suspect foul play to this day.

To exist, and especially to exist joyfully, as a queer person, continues to be a radical act of defiance in a world and in a time that still tells us that we are not meant to survive. This Saturday, we will participate in the Pride Festival and Parade, as we have done the past several years. As a community of faith, we are unique positioned to demonstrate that celebration of life (ours and those of the dead) can coexist alongside the grief that we continue to hold. Our float is themed, “In Memoriam,” and will be a moving tribute to our gratitude to those who dared to live life as fully and authentically as possible and are no longer with us. We will be dancing, celebrating their fierceness, as well as carrying candles and signs that read the names of the victims of the Orlando shooting. Please consider showing up in great number, making a sign of your own, or carrying one that our middle schoolers are working on, and creating this important space for our community to hold the reality of the pain of grief and the joy of love.

It’s fitting that this will be my last act with this church community & such a holy act at that to march alongside you in this way. If UUs held “sacraments,” I’d like to think that this would be among them. Our participation in Pride is an act of humility around how little of this struggle we can attribute to ourselves, alone, as well as a commitment and show of our resolve to continue in the struggle that did not begin and will not end with us. It has been my honor to minister to you and beside you, and a blessing that I will complete my service here next Saturday on the revolution’s parade route. It is a deeply religious act to realize that we were not meant to survive, and yet here we stand.

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 16 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.

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Rev. Marisol Caballero
Laine Young
July 31, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

“Hogwarts Intergenerational Service” We celebrate the closing of another Camp UU year by looking to Harry Potter and the lot from Hogwarts to teach us life lessons.

Call to Worship

– Nora Roberts

“Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.” Welcome to this magical hour.

Sermon

-Mari
Hey Laine, there were a bunch of little witches & wizards here this week, right? I heard that this church turned into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, complete with professors. games of quidditch, and magical creatures. I even heard there was a magical pig here on Friday! Now, I like’ Harry Potter as much as the next gat welL.. maybe not if the “next gal” is YOU! You’re one of the biggest fans I know! But, we do this camp every year here & sometimes f like to think about why. When you think about it,. the characters in the Harry Potter series seem like they really live out our UU Principles. don’t they?

-Laine
One of my favorite characters is the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts, Hagrid. He lived with his dog Fang, took in and cared for a 3- headed dog named Fluffy, hatched a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon from an egg, took care of Buckbeak the hippogriff, and one of his first pets was a giant tarantula. He also looked after the students at Hogwarts. I love when Hagrid meets Harry Potter on his 11th birthday, and brings him a homemade cake that says HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY. Hagrid is one of my favorite characters because he always tried to do the right thing, and help everyone out. He believed in the best in everyone, and every living creature.

-Mari
Yes, he sure does! You know, it’s funny that you say Hagrid’s your favorite character because he reminds me that there are two meanings of the word “character.” He is one of the people in the story of Harry Potter, but he also has character, doesn’t he? I mean, he really has the qualities of a good person. If he doesn’t yet know about Unitarian Universalism, he sure behaves like he does! Think about the first and second principles – they teach us to remember that everyone is important and that they deserve to be treated with kindness. r remember when professor Dumbledore told Professor McGonagall that he would, “trust Hagrid with his life.” Because of this, I have referred to some of my best friends as “my Hagrid.” Everyone should have a Hagrid in their lives, huh?

-Laine
Absolutely!

-Mari
And then think about the third & fourth Principles. It’s all about helping each other learn and using what we learn to decide for ourselves what is true and good and what comforts us in tough times. Hagrid knew that Harry and Ron would be afraid of that giant Tarantula and of that three-headed dog, but he also knew that all animals should be cared-for and that Ron and Harry could learn and grow through getting to know these “pets.” Hagrid’s love for all creatures reminds me of the story of a Unitarian minister who lived a long time ago, Theodore Parker. When Theodore was a little boy, he saw the big boys hitting turtles and other small animals with sticks, but when he had the chance to do the same, his conscience stopped him from doing it. He knew it was wrong to mistreat animals. I remember a ton of lessons like this from the Harry Potter books and movies …

-Laine
Oh! OH. Do you remember in “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” when Hermione started the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare after she saw how horribly house elves were being treated during the Quidditch World Cup? That’s such a great part of the series! Hermione saw that house elves were being worked very hard, without any payor holidays and realized that wasn’t right. I like when she says, “You know, house elves get a very raw deal! It’s slavery, that’s what it is! Why doesn’t anyone do something about it?” and I love that instead of waiting for someone to do something about it, she did it herself! And she didn’t give up when her friends didn’t want to join, or when they made fun of her group and started calling it SPEW, either! Hermione is one amazing witch!

-Mari 
Are you sure Hermione isn’t Unitarian Universalist?! Fighting for justice, peace and equity in our world is what we do. In fact, it’s pretty much what our sixth principle is all about. Hermione reminds me of so many Unitarians and Universalists. Julia Ward Howe is famous for writing The Battle Hymn of the Republic, but she was also a fierce abolitionist long before the Civil War. She believed that it was evil to make people into slaves and wanted to make sure that black people in this country were freed.

Another gutsy woman is Clara Barton, who helped organize the American Red Cross, an organization that still helps thousands of people recover from tragedies and natural disasters every year. Right now, UUs an over the country are participating in a boycott of Wendy’s fast food, since the people who work in the fields growing their fruits and vegetables are fighting for fair treatment and pay. These workers have asked us to stop eating at Wendy’s so that the company will pay attention to what the justice-seeking farmworkers are saying.

But, let me tell you. Just like Hermione, doing what is right and being in solidarity with people who are fighting to be treated fairly isn’t always easy … I have really missed Wendy’s frosties! But, when I drive past a Wendy’s and think about all the frosties I missed out on eating this summer, I think of Hermione, Julia Ward Howe, Clara Barton, and other freedom fighters and especially those brave people who risked so much more whose lives they were hoping to help make better. When I do, I don’t feel so sorry for myself and my sad lack of frosties in my belly. I wonder if there are any other ways that the Hogwarts crew has things in common with UUs …

-Laine
The students of Hogwarts get to learn so many wonderful things, like Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts! You know what class I would really like to take even though it is an elective? Muggle Studies, the study of non-magical folk! For awhile, “He Who Must Not Be Named” made this class mandatory, but he didn’t allow them to teach Muggle facts. Instead, the class was used to tell lies about Muggles so that wizards and witches would look down on Muggles and no longer associate with them. Some witches and wizards thought that Muggles shouldn’t exist at all: however, there were lots of witches and wizards that knew that they could learn, live, and work with Muggles. That’s part of why I think Arthur Weasley is so great! He approached things with an open mind and curiosity – including Muggles. He was a firm believer in the equality of magical and Muggle folk alike, and knew that they could live together peacefully.

-Mari
Yeah, the Weasley’s are such a cool family. I’ve kind of secretly wished that I could have been a Weasley kid, but it would have been so much effort to keep dying my hair red! I just loved the way that Mr & Mrs Weasley never let their kids talk bad about Muggles, even when so many witches and wizards were discriminating against Muggles. They would always rise above that sort of bullying. It reminds me of something that our First Lady, Michelle Obama, said this past week. She said that she teaches her girls not to be bullies, even when someone is being a bully to them. She said, “Our motto is, ‘When they go low, we go high.”

But like I said, taking the high road isn’t always easy, though, is it? Sometimes it means reaching deep inside and reminding ourselves of who we are when we are being the best possible versions of ourselves. I guess this is what Professor Dumbledore meant when he said, “We must choose between what is easy and what is right.” Harry and his friends seem to always end up in dangerous situations while they’re trying to do what is right, but somehow love and kindness always wins, even if it takes a very long journey to get there ….

-Laine
Speaking of Harry … Mari, did you know that today is Harry Potter’s 36th birthday?!

-Mari 
That’s awesome! I had no idea that Harry Potter and I were the same age! Does that explain the cake in Howson Hall? Thanks, Laine. I’m glad we had this talk.

-Laine 
Me, too! I learned about so many amazing Unitarian and Universalist leaders today! I hadn’t realized how magical our UU principles really are!

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 16 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.

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Rev. Marisol Caballero
May 29, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We bring flowers to church for this UU tradition of resilience, renewal, and celebration of our individual gifts that create the bouquet of this church community. An all-ages intergenerational worship service.

Call to Worship
By Thomas Rhodes

We come in a variety of colors, shapes, and sizes.
Some of us grow in bunches.
Some of us grow alone.
Some of us are cupped inward,
And some of us spread ourselves out wide.
Some of us are old and dried and tougher than we appear.
Some of us are still in bud.
Some of us grow low to the ground,
And some of us stretch toward the sun.
Some of us feel like weeds, sometimes.
Some of us carry seeds, sometimes.
Some of us are prickly, sometimes.
Some of us smell.
And all of us are beautiful.
What a bouquet of people we are!

Reading:

Today we listened to the story of “Ferdinand, the Bull”, about a bull who loved flowers. It was written by Munro Leaf. Here’s some interesting history about the book. According to wikipedia, “The book was released nine months before the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, and was seen by many supporters of Francisco Franco as a pacifist book. It was banned in many countries, including in Spain. In Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler ordered the book burned, while Joseph Stalin, the leader of the Soviet Union, granted it privileged status as the only non-communist children’s book allowed in Poland. India’s leader Mahatma Gandhi called it his favorite book.”

It’s only fitting that this book is being read today, the day before Memorial Day, when we remember, honor, and mourn all those members of our human family that war has taken from us. We know that the best way to honor the fallen soldier is to help heal the spiritually and bodily wounded and to work for a peace. This is our 6th Principle and our duty as fellow humans whose hearts still beat. So, today, hug a veteran. But instead of saying the all-too-common, “Thank you for your service,” let’s try something different. Let’s say, “I won’t forget you or your friends. I’ll do everything I can to bring peace to our world,” and, “Here’s a flower for you.”

Introduction to Flower Communion

The Unitarian Universalist Flower Communion service which we are about to celebrate was originated in 1923 by Rev. Dr. Norbert Capek founder of the modern Unitarian movement in Czechoslovakia. On the last Sunday before the summer recess of the Unitarian church in Prague, all the children and adults participated in this colorful ritual, which gives concrete expression to the humanity-affirming principles of our liberal faith. When the Nazis took control of Prague in 1940, they found Capek’s gospel of the inherent worth and beauty of every human person to be -as Nazi court records show — “… too dangerous to the Reich (for him) to be allowed to live.” Capek was sent to Dachau, where he was killed the next year by Nazis. This gentle man suffered a cruel death, but his message of human hope and decency lives on through his Flower Communion, which is widely celebrated today. It is a noble and meaning-filled ritual we are about to recreate. This service includes the original prayers of Capek to help us remember the principles and dreams for which he died.

Consecration of Flowers
by Norbert Capek

Infinite Spirit of Life, we ask thy blessing on these, thy messengers of fellowship and love. May they remind us, amid diversities of knowledge and of gifts, to be one in desire and affection, and devotion to thy holy will. May they also remind us of the value of comradeship, of doing and sharing alike. May we cherish friendship as one of thy most precious gifts. May we not let awareness of another’s talents discourage us, or sully our relationship, but may we realize that, whatever we can do, great or small, the efforts of all of us are needed to do thy work in this world.

Flower Communion

Flowers were a very important part of the story of Ferdinand. Flowers, in the story were a symbol of love and peace. Unitarian Universalist also use flowers as a symbol of love and peace in this special ceremony called Flower Communion.

It is time now for us to share in the Flower Communion. I ask that as you each in turn approach the communion vase you do so quietly –reverently — with a sense of how important it is for each of us to address our world and one another with gentleness, justice, and love. I ask that you select a flower different from the one you brought that particularly appeals to you. As you take your chosen flower noting its particular shape and beauty please remember to handle it carefully. It is a gift that someone else has brought to you. It represents that person’s unique humanity, and therefore deserves your kindest touch. Let us share quietly in this Unitarian Universalist ritual of oneness and love.

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 16 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.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Rev. Marisol Caballero
April 24, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Have you ever felt like you are “faking it ’til you make it,” but wonder when the “making it” part will begin? How do such fears align with our theologies? How might such concerns actually serve us?

Call to Worship

“All That Lies Within You”
by Angela Herrera

Consider this an invitation
To you.
Yes-you
With all your happiness
And all of your burdens,
Your hopes and regrets.
An invitation if you feel good today,
And an invitation if you do not,
If you are aching-
And there are so many ways to ache.

Whoever you are, however you are,
Wherever you are in your journey,
This is an invitation into peace.
Peace in your heart,
And peace in your heart,
And-with every breath
Peace in your heart.

Maybe your heart is heavy
Or hardened.
Maybe it’s troubled
And peace can take up residence
Only in a small corner,
Only on the edge,
With all that is going on in the world,
And in your life.
Ni modo. It doesn’t matter.

All that you need
For a deep and comforting peace to grow
Lies within you.
Once it is in your heart
Let it spread into your life,
Let it pour from your life into the world
And once it is in the world,
Let it shine upon all beings.

Reading

Ms. Perfect
by Kaaren Solveig Anderson

Round, brown, doe-like eyes rested near the edge of her glasses. Best described as stout, there was nothing unhurried about her. The skin under her arms swung in pendulum force when she moved due to years of weight fluctuation. My grandmother. Far from slave to fashion, she nonetheless cared about her appearance, wearing a full-corseted girdle daily. She wasn’t ugly or beautiful, yet she sported a quick, one-sided mischievous grin that always kept you guessing as to her womanly guises. She was a klutz of enormous proportions, the trait I inherited. A woman who looked like a grandmother at thirty. It may not have helped that she drove a 1964 Plymouth Valiant with pushbutton transmission, the kind of car that no matter what your age screamed geriatric mobile.

My grandmother was a misfit of sorts. When I was a child, she was my icon of paradox. On one hand she was the mother of comfort. Her house always smelled of overcooked vegetables and well-used wool. When feeling out of sorts, she would promptly offer you her favorite food: Cheese Whiz on toast. On the other hand, nobody could embarrass me asa kid, making me uncomfortable like she could. She would be deep in conversation with someone while concurrently and unabashedly scratching her large bosom, oblivious to the obvious misstep in propriety.

She was queen of malaprop, which at times proved humorous and at others embarrassing. Once she was telling some friends of the family about my cousin’s recent abode in Missouri, where she was attending college. “Well, Liv has found such a nice condom to live in, it’s beautiful” It took everything in all of us gathered in her living room to bite any part of our mouth in an effort to control our laughter. The image of a house-sized latex condom serving as a woman’s condo had us in fits.

This odd woman could weave beauty into lives like none other. An avid, veracious quilter, she was a binder of pieces and parts. She took beauty seriously, and expected the rest of us to do so, too. She was the most patient, attentive counselor. When burdened with life’s questions and perplexities, her living room was always open, her ear always attuned, her answers measured. She could also give you a biting retort if she believed you to be slothy, unethical, or lazy in behavior.

My grandmother died ten years ago now. I miss her oddness, her quirky character. The older I get, the more I realize she had a lot to teach me- not in family history or in how to be a quilter, or how to make carnage of fresh vegetables. No, the older I get, the more I think she was perfect. She wasn’t a model with flawless features. She wasn’t a Nobel Laureate, distinguished, astute, or brilliant. She wasn’t even the nicest, kindest, gentlest person I know. She was perfect because she knew how to be her – Sylvia Anderson. She knew how to be human, not a facade of one. There was no pretense about her, you got what you saw. She fit into her skin, and her skin fit her.

My own skin doesn’t always fit so well. I get hung up on vanity, or trying to be hip or cool, or allowing conventional etiquette to rule my behavior or actions. I get in my own way of being me. My skin would fit better if I just remembered more often that wonderful woman I once knew and thought of her greatest gifts of being: contradiction, fallibility, and humor. The makings of a perfect gal.

Sermon: “Will the Real Me Please Stand Up?”

Those of us who grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons, or who had kids or grandkids that did, remember the life lessons of Scooby Do: you can spend a ton of time freaked out, trembling in the arms of your dog or running in and out of the same doors in an endless hallway, but in the end, that which you were deathly afraid of is usually not at all what you perceived it to be. In fact, our fears rarely match up to reality. Or, in the case of Scooby Doo and crew, our fears are usually an old, balding, maniacal capitalist.

Then, we grow up and figure out that there is still so much we haven’t figured out; so much we aren’t the best at yet; so much more to be afraid of the gang in The Mystery Machine. In fact, I am not sure that any of us ever feel we’ve really gotten a hang of things at any stage of our lives. As soon as we’ve figured out how to be good at being unjaded, bright-eyed twenty-somethings, we are already heading into our thirties. As soon as we feel like we are settling into our thirties – getting better established in our careers or discovering a passion we weren’t aware of in our young adulthood – we look in the mirror to find a gray hair springing up on the top of our head, or losing hair on the top of our head and growing them in strange, uninvited places and we think, “I’m just getting started here! My years are flying by so quickly!” And it goes on and on like this in every stage… All of us, to some degree, are faking it. We are faking having this adulating thing figured out. New parents often think, “How in the world did anyone think I could be responsible for keeping this tiny, fragile person alive!?”

Often times, this sense of “faking it ’till we make it,” is a psychological phenomenon referred to as Impostor Syndrome. The term was coined in 1978 by psychologists, Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes. They described it as, “phoniness in people who believe that they are not intelligent, capable or creative despite evidence of high achievement.” Those with Impostor Syndrome-esque thoughts, “are highly motivated to achieve,” yet, “live in fear of being ‘found out’ or exposed as frauds.” With all of the pressures of perfectionism that many of us place on ourselves, we often feel like phonies and secretly, maybe even in the back of our minds, worry that we will be found out at some point and the ruse will be up. Psychologists and sociologists say that Impostor Syndrome has an increased probability the more we feel we are being watched. The greater our level of mastery in our talent or field, the more likely we are to doubt our right to deserving such a station. So, those who are in supervisory roles, excelling in their careers, or possess any amount of celebrity. In fact, Impostor Syndrome has great prevalence among celebrities. Albert Einstein, at the end of his life, told a close friend, ” …the exaggerated esteem in which my lifework is held makes me very ill at ease. I feel compelled to think of myself as an involuntary swindler.” Maya Angelou, winner of three Grammy awards, a Pulitzer prize, a Tony award, and read an original poem at a presidential inauguration, once said, “I have written 11 books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.” In a 2013 interview with Maria Hinojosa of NPR’s Latino USA fame, US Supreme Court Justice Sonya Sotomayor confessed, “I have been living in a state of lack of reality for the past 3 1/2 years.”

Last year, I got an email from the UUA, asking me if I would be interested in giving a talk at General Assembly in Portland. They were launching a series of talks that would be akin to TED Talks, but with themes with a large UU audience in mind. Apparently, they were only asking about a dozen or so “innovative leaders” within our movement to consider leading such a talk. I’ll be honest, my first thought was, “WOOHOOO!!!! What an honor!” But, within seconds, my second thought was, “Oh no! What, an honor!? Why me? Why and how on earth did my name get into anyone’s mouth as an innovative UU leader?!! What do I have to say that hasn’t already been said? What in the world am I going to talk about!?” I worked on a presentation informed by one of my favorite mujerista theologians (feminist theology from a Latina perspective), Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz. When the day came, I was shaking like a leaf on a tree as I looked out and saw members of this congregation, Meg was sitting right there, several folks I had known throughout various stages of my journey toward ministry, and a huge room of strangers expecting some unique idea. The stakes were high.

Then, editor of the UU World, Kenny Wiley, introduced me as if I were Prince himself, saying things like, “I have admired her for a long time… ” I thought, “Why?! I only know you extremely marginally through mutual friends. What in the world could you possibly know about me?” I shook through the whole presentation and was sure, at some points, that my knees would lock and I would pass out, on camera, in front of everyone. To be perfectly honest, though I know I have been super involved in the UU movement for most of my life and have worked really hard, I still have no idea why I was asked to do that talk. I’m not even sure how it went, though Meg and others told me that it went very well… but you never really know, right!? But, when observing facts, all I can say is that this year, I have been asked back to give another GA Talk! This time, Rev. Chris and I have been asked to co-lead a talk specifically on the subject of this month’s Spring Into Action focus: our church’s involvement in sanctuary. Thank goodness I’ll have Chris’ brilliance there to rely upon this time!

Now, hold on. Before you start ordering the catering for my pity party know that, like most who have impostor thoughts, I don’t always feel this way about myself and my accomplishments. I am only exposing my underbelly to normalize these emotions. Comedian, Tina Fey, is quoted as saying, “The beauty of the impostor syndrome is you vacillate between extreme egomania and a complete feeling of: ‘I’m a fraud! Oh, God! They’re on to me! I’m a fraud!” One day, you can have on new shoes – that sometimes does it for me – and be super-confident and the next be completely tentative of each step.

Historically marginalized and presumed incompetent populations are more prone to experiencing a high degree of impostor syndrome, such as women, people of color, and first generation immigrants, and higher education graduates. Comedian, Sarah Silverman, refers to this mental battle against oneself as an aspect of the “vagina tax,” that society charges women. Women in STEM fields (science, technology, engineering, and math) that continue to be largely an old boy’s club, are particularly vulnerable to feeling like a fraud. Studies show that although Impostor Syndrome certainly does affect many, if not most, of us, women are more likely to agonize over mistakes and failures, small and large, as view it as proof of their incompetence. Men, on the other hand, will not wrestle so much him self-blame. Women are more likely to view good fortune as some fluke or grand stroke of luck, while men will remember their accomplishments that made them worthy of such advancement. If a woman tries on clothing in her size that is ill-fitting, she will believe there to be some deficit in her body, where as a man is more likely to view it as a deficit in the clothing.

As is the case with women, people of color, and the poor, these self-deriding thoughts don’t come from outer space. They are messages that are fed to us from every direction from birth. It would be extremely difficult for even the most socially conscious, well-adapted member of such groups to not internalize some of these messages in some way, though Sotomayor asserts that, “the greatest obstacle people will experience in life is not discrimination (itself), it’s their own fear.”

Are thoughts of being an impostor always a bad thing? How do they serve us? How do they limit us? Well, for starters, a good measure of humility never hurt anyone. Feeling as if we have yet more to learn, more goals to reach, will keep us ever-striving and urge us against complacency and disinterest in healthy competition. Too much of this brand of self-doubt can be outright debilitating. It can keep us from fulfilling our dreams and potential; from realizing our passions.

Paraphrasing Mr. Rogers, Sarah Silverman reminds us that, “if it’s mentionable, it’s manageable.” She says, “I always look at myself knowing that I will have a certain degree of cognitive distortion… so I put it on a bell curve. I kind of adjust what I’m seeing and know that it’s better than what I’m seeing, whether that’s true or not.” I think that a good rule of thumb when thoughts like this rise up is to think of your best friend – the person you admire the most in the world. If they were saying the things about themselves that you find yourself saying, what would you say to them? Would you stand for them ignoring their greatness?

One of my favorite bloggers, who goes by the name Awesomely Luvvie, has some pro-tips for vanquishing impostrous thoughts (see what I did there!?) She tries to remind herself that:

– I am not the best. I don’t have to be. I am enough. The idea of “best” is temporary. The person who wins a race won it once. The next race, they might no longer be the best. Are they at least in the top 3? Did they beat their own time from the last race? We can reach for being the best but thinking we’ve lost just because we didn’t win is the quickest way to psyche yourself out.

– I’ve worked my bootie off. At the minimum, that hard work has earned me a ticket in. Even if I am not the best, the fact that I KNOW that I work hard, then maybe that alone is enough to have me in that room. My grind got my foot in the door. I can at least give myself that.

– Knowing that there are subpar and mediocre people out there who still think they belong in the room that your EXCEPTIONAL bootie thinks you don’t deserve to be in. Trust and believe that there are people with far less skills than you, who cannot be swayed from thinking that the room should have been named after them. People who cannot hold a torch to you are out here crowning themselves. Never underestimate the power of confidence. If you believe you’re the dopest thing walking, you might convince people of the same, just because you’re so headstrong about it as a fact.

– Even if I happen to be in the room by accident, and by no doing of my own, I AM IN THAT ROOM. It is no longer an accident. How do I make it intentional and purposeful? Well, I better learn from the best then. I better walk away from that room inspired, with a resolve to be a more superior version of myself. So next time I AM in the room, I feel at home in it.

(“Hidden Divinity” story from Earth Care: World Folktales to Talk About, p. 93)

Let’s remember to never stop looking for that inner divinity within each and everyone of us.

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 16 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.

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Rev. Marisol Caballero
January 31, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

All creatures young, old, great and small, furry and scaly are invited to our annual intergenerational service honoring our beloved animal companions.

Call to Worship

“An Alphabet of Gratitude”
Rev. Gary Kowalski

We give thanks for the earth and its creatures, and are grateful from A to Z:
For alligators, apricots, acorns, and apple trees,
For bumblebees, bananas, blueberries, and beagles,
Coconuts, crawdads, cornfields, and coffee,
Daisies, elephants, and flying fish,
For groundhogs, glaciers, and grasslands,
Hippos and hazelnuts, icicles and iguanas,
For juniper, jackrabbits, and junebugs,
Kudzu and kangaroos, lightning bugs and licorice,
For mountains and milkweed and mistletoe,
Norwhals and nasturtiums, otters and ocelots,
For peonies, persimmons, and polar bears,
Quahogs and Queen Anne’s Lace,
For raspberries and roses,
Salmon and sassafras, tornadoes and tulipwood,
Urchins and valleys and waterfalls,
For X (the unknown, the mystery of it all!)
In every yak and yam;
We are grateful, good Earth, not least of all
For zinnias, zucchini, and zebras,

And for the alphabet of wonderful things that are as simple as ABC

Story for All Ages

“Thankful Dogs”
By Naomi King

Once there was and once there was not a family of dogs. Like many dog families, there were dogs that had wandered off the street and dogs with fine pedigrees and dogs from the shelter and dogs who had been born into the family. They ran together. They played together. They tumbled together in great furry masses of tails and snouts and paws. They loved each other very much-even if sometimes they growled at one another, even if sometimes they worried about enough biscuits from the tin on the counter, even if some dog didn’t feel good and snapped at another dog-they loved each other very much.

Each night as the moon rose, the family of dogs went outside and sat in a great circle on the soft grass and watched the moon rise and looked into each other’s eyes and wagged their tails. It was a doggy thing to do. Then, when the moon was a dog’s tail above the horizon, the eldest dog would bay loudly at the moon. And what do you think that dog was baying about?

The eldest dog was telling the other dogs and the moon and the whole world what he was thankful for. He was baying, “Thank you for this day! For the running and the jumping! Thank you for the biscuits and the tasty treats! Thank you little brown dog for nosing the ball my way! Thanks for being able to sing! Thanks for this and everything!”

Then the youngest dog would point her nose to the moon and begin to bay. And she was saying, “Thank you wonderful sun that warmed my back! Thank you fragrant frangipani so sweet! Thank you pack of dogs for wiggly dances! Thanks for the ringing ice cream truck! Thanks for this and all my luck!”

Then one dog after another would join the baying, saying their thanks, until they were singing together and to the moon. But they saved the best for last and howled together: “Thank you mother and thank you father! Thank you sister and thank you brother! Thank you neighbor and thank you friend! Thank you stranger and thank you world! We share our thanks for every being whether near or far, no matter who, no matter where, no matter what you are. THANKS!”

They did this no matter what the weather, no matter how many or how few of the family was home, no matter how they felt. The dog family gathered together each and every night to greet the moon and share their thanks! Let’s share their circle of gratitude:

Thank you mother and thank you father!
Thank you sister and thank you brother!
Thank you neighbor, thank you friend!
Thank you stranger, thank you world!
We share our thanks for every being whether near or far
no matter who, no matter where, no matter what you are!
THANKS!”

Prayer & Candle Lighting 
By Thomas Rhodes

You Birds of the Air,
Hawk, Sparrow, and laughing Jay
You embody freedom itself,
delight us with your song, astound us with feats of migration
Grant us your perspective,
for too often our horizon is limited
and we are blind to the full results of our actions.

You Worms of the Earth,
Ants, Beetles, Spiders and Centipedes
You are the essential but oft-forgotten strand in nature’s web.
Through you the cycle is complete; through you new life arises from old.
Remind us of our humility.
For the wheel of live does not turn around us;
we are not the axle, but merely spokes
no less than unseen, unknown and shunned companions
such as yourselves.

You creatures of the field and wood and field, marsh and desert
Bear and Bison, Skunk and Squirrel, Weasel and Wolf
Too often we have sacrificed your homes in the name of progress,
clear cutting the forests to fill our desire,
or covering the earth with tarmac, cement, and suburban lawns.
Pray that we may remember that the earth was not given for our needs alone,
and what we do to you, we eventually do to ourselves.

You animals of the farm
Horse and cow, pig and fowl
Willingly or not, you give your very lives for us,
your milk for our nourishment, your flesh for our sustenance,
Yet too often we forget that the meat on our tables was once as alive as we are.
Forgive our willful ignorance,
and remind us constantly to give thanks for your sacrifice.

You Dearest Companions in our lives Dogs and Cats,
Hamsters and Goldfish
You who are with us today
and you who always be present in our memories
You have enriched our lives in so many ways
endured our shortcomings with calm acceptance
taught us something of our humanity
taught us how to love.
May we hold you in our hearts throughout the days of our lives.

Blessing

A Blessing isn’t a magical spell, but a way of showing love and saying thank you; taking time to say out loud what is important to us.

[pet’s name], Thank you for blessing me with the gift of your friendship.
You always know how to make me laugh and cheer me up when I’m sad.
I’m glad that you give me your love.
I promise that I will take care of you, in return.
I will feed you, bathe you, play with you,
Take you to the doctor when your sick,
Protect you, and give you the best life I can.
When the time comes to say goodbye,
I will make sure that you feel safe and loved.
I bless you because you bless me every day.

Benediction 
-Buddhist

May every creature abound in well-being and peace.
May every living being,
Weak or strong, the long and the small,
The short and the medium-sized,
The mean and the great
May every living creature,
Seen and unseen,
Those dwelling far off,
Those waiting to be born,
May all attain peace.

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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 16 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.

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Rev. Marisol Caballero
July 26, 2015

In many liberal activist circles, we hear the term “creating safe space” casually thrown about. Is “safe space” truly ever possible or is the notion a popular fiction of progressive rhetoric? Is being safe what will ultimately transform our world?

Call to Worship 
by Angela Herrera

Don’t leave your broken heart at the door;
bring it to the altar of life.
Don’t leave your anger behind;
it has high standards and the world needs vision.
Bring them with you, and your joy
and your passion.
Bring your loving,
and your courage
and your conviction.
Bring your need for healing,
and your power to heal
There is work to do
and you have all that you need to do it
right here in this room.

Sermon: “Being Safe”

I’ll never forget a story that Meg once told me about how she tried to explain male privilege to a man who, despite her best efforts, still didn’t get it. She said, “Women live with various levels of fear 100% of the time. Men don’t have to.” I had never heard it put that way before and had never even considered it in those terms, but yes! I don’t walk around looking over my shoulder, in a constant state of panic, but it’s nonetheless true. I think that, in our heart of hearts, it’s true for most women. I think that a certain level of naivete can be expected from those women who don’t carry around a healthy dose of such fear. History and experience have taught us this. The annual statistics of rape and sexual assault in this country, alone, are staggering- and that’s only counting the women who muster the courage and, more importantly have the support systems in place, to come forward and report these crimes. Margaret Atwood once said, “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.”

Understanding how tenuous safety is for women, I was shocked when I heard the term used in a starkly different manner by a young Latina activist at the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health’s Summit in D.C. this past spring. At the outset of the lobbying workshop, the day before we would lobby on Capital Hill, two presenters made their apologies, “Lunch ran long and we have a ton of material to cover, but everything we are going to cover and more is included in your binders for your perusal on your own time before we get to the Hill tomorrow. That being said, we are going to go quickly to cover as much material as we can in the time we have.” Midway through the session, a young woman raised her hand and interrupted, “I need to say that I am feeling very unsafe right now…” “Can you tell me more about what you mean?” asked one of the presenters, patiently. (I’m learning that patience and a high threshold for foolishness are skills required of professional activist/lobbyists.) “Yeah, you are presenting a lot of information very, very quickly – too quickly for my brain to process it all. I feel like this format isn’t providing a safe space for every learning style. My learning style isn’t being respected and I just needed to say something about that.”

The presenters reiterated their earlier disclaimer about time constraints, apologized, and attempted to slow down the presentation. As a result, less material was covered than originally hoped for and there was less time for questions. The workshop had been high-jacked in the name of safety.

I have been engaged in liberation movements and have run in activist circles for many, many years now, and have heard the phrase “safe space” used ad nauseam. In the late 90’s, the term was so refreshing. When facilitators of dialogue, professors, and organizers introduced a conversation as intentional “safe space,” it meant that bigotry and disrespect would not be tolerated. That historically marginalized identities would be celebrated and openly acknowledged. Slowly, over time, I have watched this prevalent term morph into a perversion of what it once was.

Curious by its mis-usage by a young woman of color (a first for me), I approached the woman during the break and told her that I was curious about her use of the word “unsafe.” Did she truly feel her safety was threatened? Did she feel like the presenters’ admitted lack of adequate time was somehow an affront to her, personally? Did she truly have the expectation that all learning styles and speeds would be catered to in every setting, at all times? She was defensive in her response, as expected. I was hoping that her defensiveness signaled that she simply hadn’t given enough careful consideration to her word choice. Who knows?

This interaction disturbed me. Obviously, it did. Here I stand, talking about it, months later. It didn’t just annoy me, it disturbed me. I saw it as a symptom of a quickly-spreading illness among progressives that conflates comfort with safety and upholds conflict avoidance as a virtue of doing social justice organizing and education. The sheer entitlement that is presumed by using the term “safety” or “safe space” is enough to get my suspicious side-eye out on anyone who uses it. Though I understand the continued need for and will continue to advocate for spaces and occasions for historically marginalized people and communities to know that they are in the presence of allies, think the mutation of the understanding of “safety” and “safe space” point to deeper, more systemic problems within progressive organizing and get in the way of true growth and hopes of peace.

In the early 70’s, when Paul Simon penned, “American Tune,” he identified the time as “the age’s most uncertain hour.” Little did her know that uncertainty, war, and violent hatred of difference would not be questions that only his generation would have to grapple with.

I had the pleasure of meeting Rev. Osagyefo Sekou at the UU Association’s General Assembly this year. His talk had me on my feet and his humor at a mutual friend’s cookout gave equal levels of profound insight. Sekou, as he’s called, is a Baptist minister from the St. Louis area (and hails from my alma mater, Union Theological Seminary! Woot, woot!) who has become a leading prophetic voice in the Black Lives Matter movement from the ground in Ferguson. He was recently interviewed in Yes!Magazine about how the nature of this movement has some on the outside, looking in a bit squeamish:

“Martin Luther King ain’t coming back. Get over it,” said Rev. Sekou “It won’t look like the civil rights movement. It’s angry. It’s profane. If you’re more concerned about young people using profanity than about the profane conditions they live in, there’s something wrong with you.” He notes how the leadership in this new civil rights movement is different, “Now the leadership that is emerging are the folks who have been in the street, who have been tear-gassed. The leadership is black, poor, queer, women. It presents in a different way. It’s a revolutionary aesthetic. It’s black women, queer women, single mothers, poor black boys with records, kids with tattoos on their faces who sag their pants.” When asked about the lack of ethnic diversity in most churches and how that affects this movement, he quotes Chris Crass, one of Unitarian Universalism’s baddest (I mean that in the best possible way!) white, anti-racist writers and organizers, “Chris Crass says that the task of white churches is not about how many people of color they have. It’s what blow are they striking at white supremacy.”

On Thursday, I was asked to give an opening prayer at a silent march and vigil for Sandra Bland, the black woman killed in police custody this past week, right here in Texas. I was pleased to see several of you turn out for the last-minute event. Before we began marching, the organizer announced to the crowd that we would be marching in a particular order, “Black people in the front, Latinos behind them, all other varieties of brown bodies behind them, and behind them – everybody else.” She made the crowd repeat this to make sure it was clear. I was standing next to a member of our congregation who has shown up to stand against injustice many-a-time. They asked if I had seen “what just happened.” “They just segregated the march!” “It’s great!,” I said. “What?” “That’s what allyship is about. It’s about listening for and not presuming how to be of help, about knowing when to lead and when to follow.” “Fair enough.” I was so moved by how this short exchange could move someone from discomfort, from possibly feeling hurt and excluded, to considering a different narrative; from considering that, “okay, maybe it’s not about me.”

We live in a world where, increasingly, those who are afforded unearned privileges, have unwittingly grown accustomed to an expectation of personal physical and emotional comfort. We saw this in the confusion around the name of this new civil rights movement. Many white people, and those people of color who felt a bit tasked with caring for the comfort of white people, didn’t like the movement being called, “Black Lives Matter.” “Why not, “all lives matter?” they asked and sometimes demanded. Saw a great twitter post that summed up “why not,” “What is the impulse behind changing Black Lives Matter to All Lives Matter? Do you crash strangers’ funerals, screaming I TOO HAVE FELT LOSS? Do you run through a cancer fundraiser going THERE ARE OTHER DISEASES TOO?”

Let’s stop expecting personal “safety” in our justice work. This expectation is the ultimate expression of unchecked privilege – which is not to say that those who catch themselves with their ganglia hanging loose are bad people or even bad allies, it’s just to say that when we realize that we can survive getting it stomped on, we may realize that is was us who dangled it all out before the world, in the first place. Friedman, of Friedman’s Fables, once wrote that, “all organisms that lack self-regulation will be perpetually invading the space of their neighbors.”

The notion of “brave space,” as an alternative to the expectation of “safe space” is creeping its way into activist communities. It presumes that learning requires levels of risk, vulnerability, and personal transformation. In truth, courage is what we need. After all, if safety is to be conflated with personal comfort, how can any group or individual ever be responsible for the personal comfort of another? “Agreeing to disagree,” is usually a means of avoiding such growth and learning from one another. Instead, we should venture into conflict and controversy with civil, yet challenging discourse, taking responsibility for both the intention and the impact of our words, understanding that these may sometimes be incongruent.

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 15 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.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Rev. Marisol Caballero
May 31, 2015

Summer has arrived and we welcome it. Our annual flower communion service celebrates stubborn hope and new life despite all odds. We’ll be “Whistling with a Shoe Full of Slush.”

Opening Words
By Thomas Rhodes

We come in a variety of colors, shapes, and sizes.
Some of us grow in bunches.
Some of us grow alone.
Some of us are cupped inward,
And some of us spread ourselves out wide.
Some of us are old and dried and tougher than we appear.
Some of us are still in bud.
Some of us grow low to the ground, And some of us stretch toward the sun.
Some of us feel like weeds, sometimes.
Some of us carry seeds, sometimes. Some of us are prickly, sometimes.
Some of us smell.
And all of us are beautiful.
What a bouquet of people we are!

Reading

The Duck of Enlightenment
by Kathleen McTigue

One spring afternoon I went home a little early so I could claim an hour of study time before my children got home. As I opened the door, I was greeted by both cats, which was a little odd because they don’t usually condescend to notice our coming and going unless it’s dinner time. One of them promptly bolted out the open door while the other wrapped himself persistently around my legs. As I stood puzzling over this behavior, at the edge of my vision, I caught a sudden motion in the family room where there should be no motion in an empty house. With the hair rising on the back of my neck I slowly moved into the house and rounded the corner of the room, and then I saw it. There was a duck in the family room. A wild brown duck — a live duck. In the family room.

My brain actually stopped completely for a couple of heartbeats. What should the brain do, after all, with so utterly unexpected a sight? I stood there in the doorway and said out loud, “There is a duck in the family room,” as though it would help me believe it. None of the windows were open. The doors were properly closed. The duck huddled in the far corner of the room next to a clutter of books and DVD’s, radiating the hope that if she kept perfectly still I wouldn’t see her. Carefully I caught her up- a small duck, female, her heart tapping frantically against my hands- and carried her outside. I looked at her, full of wonder at this little visitation. Then I opened my hands. She leaped into the air in a great arc of liberation and beat her wings in a straight line of escape all the way to the horizon.

I went back to investigate the breach of household security, and within a few minutes the mystery was explained. A trail of ashes spilled from the fireplace, and here and there on the wall and against the ceiling I saw soot in little feather-shaped impressions where the duck had thrown herself up toward the light. It all made sense then, how a duck could come to be standing in the middle of my house. But I felt lucky that for a space of a few breaths, my linear, deductive mind had been shocked into silence. When something tumbles us into that state of wonder, the unexpected quiet in our heads is like a window flung open on the world. Instead of the routine, predictable story we live each day, there is something new under the sun and, surprised out of our minds for a moment, we actually see. Startled awake, we receive what’s in front of us: simple, astonishing, unedited.

Afterward, basking in the dazzlement of my visitor, it occurred to me that it really shouldn’t require a duck in the family room to awaken my wonder. Isn’t the same lovely little duck just as wondrous, just as worthy of my awe and my open and grateful heart, when she is out in the woods where she belongs? The real miracle is not that her frightened heart beat against my hands for a moment but that her heart beats at all — that her heart beats, that my hands can hold, that my eyes can see.

Introduction to Flower Communion

The Unitarian Universalist Flower Communion service which we are about to celebrate was originated in 1923 by Rev. Dr. Norbert Capek [pronounced Chah-Peck], founder of the modern Unitarian movement in Czechoslovakia. On the last Sunday before the summer recess of the Unitarian church in Prague, all the children and adults participated in this colorful ritual, which gives concrete expression to the humanity-affirming principles of our liberal faith. When the Nazis took control of Prague in 1940, they found Capek’s gospel of the inherent worth and beauty of every human person to be — as Nazi court records show — “… too dangerous to the Reich [for him] to be allowed to live.” Capek was sent to Dachau, where he was killed the next year during a Nazi “medical experiment.” This gentle man suffered a cruel death, but his message of human hope and decency lives on through his Flower Communion, which is widely celebrated today. It is a noble and meaning-filled ritual we arc about to recreate. This service includes the original prayers of Capek to help us remember the principles and dreams for which he died.

Consecration of Flowers
by Norbert Capek

Infinite Spirit of Life, we ask thy blessing on these, thy messengers offellowship and love. May they remind us, amid diversities of knowledge and of gifts, to be one in desire and affection, and devotion to thy holy will. May they also remind us of the value of comradeship, of doing and sharing alike. May we cherish friendship as one of thy most precious gifts. May we not let awareness of another’s talents discourage us, or sully our relationship, but may we realize that, whatever we can do, great or small, the efforts of all of us are needed to do thy work in this world.

Homily 
“Whistling With a Shoe Full of Slush”
It Could Be Worse

A long time ago, there was a family that lived happily in a small, quiet house in Poland. One day they learned that the grandparents were coming to live with them. The child was very excited about this, and so were the parents. But the parents worried because their house was very small. They knew that when the grandparents arrived, the house would become crowded and much noisier.

The farmer went to ask the rabbi what to do. The rabbi says, “Let them come.”

So the grandparents move in. They have a lot of furniture, which goes in the living room, where they sleep, and in some other rooms, too. It is crowded and noisy in the house so the farmer goes back to the rabbi: “I did what you said, Rabbi. Now my in-laws are here. And it is really crowded in the house.”

The rabbi thinks for moment. Then he asks, “Do you have chickens?”

“0f course I have chickens,” says the farmer.

“Bring them into the house,” says the rabbi.

The farmer is confused, but he knows the rabbi is very wise. So he goes home, and brings all the chickens to live inside the house with the family. But, it is no less crowded and noisy. In fact, it is worse, with the clucking, and pecking, and flapping of wings.

The farmer goes back to the rabbi. “I did what you said, Rabbi. Now with my in-laws and the chickens, too, it is really crowded in the house.”

The rabbi thinks for moment. Then he asks, “Do you have any goats?”

“0f course I have goats,” says the farmer.

“Bring them into the house,” says the rabbi.

The farmer is confused, but he knows the rabbi is very wise. He brings all the goats from the barn to live inside the house. It is no less crowded and noisy. In fact, it is much worse, with the chickens clucking and flapping their wings, and the goats baa-ing and butting their heads against the walls and one another.

The next day, the farmer goes back to the rabbi. “I did what you said, Rabbi. Now my in-laws have no place to sleep because the chickens have taken their bed. The goats are sticking their heads into everything and making a lot of noise.”

The rabbi thinks. He looks very puzzled. Then he says, “Aha! You must have some sheep.”

“0f course I have sheep,” says the farmer.

“Bring them into the house,” says the rabbi.

The farmer knows the rabbi is very wise. So he brings the sheep inside. It is no less crowded and noisy. In fact, it is much, much worse. The chickens are clucking and flapping their wings, the goats are baa-ing and butting their heads. The sheep are baa-ing, too, and one sat on the farmer’s eyeglasses and broke them. The house is loud and crazy and it is starting to smell like a barn.

Completely exasperated, the farmer goes back to the rabbi. “Rabbi,” he says, “I have followed your advice. I have done everything you said. Now my in-laws have no place to sleep because the chickens are laying eggs in their bed. The goats are baa-ing and butting their heads, and the sheep are breaking things. The house smells like a barn.”

The rabbi frowned. He closed his eyes and thought for a long time. Finally he said, “This is what you do. Take the sheep back to the barn. Take the goats back to the barn. Take the chickens back to their Coop.”

The farmer ran home and did exactly as the rabbi had told him. As he took the animals out of the house, his child and wife and in-laws began to tidy up the rooms. By the time the last chicken was settled in her coop, the house looked quite nice. And, it was quiet. All the family agreed their home was the most spacious, peaceful, and comfortable home anywhere.

When I hear this story, I think it would be easy to assume that the lesson it’s trying to teach us is not to complain about our lives, no matter how inconvenient, but I don’t think that’s the point at all.

Dissatisfaction is part of being human. We will always have reasons to complain if someone is ready to hear them. It’s much harder to look for joy and for possibilities.

A while back, I started thinking about today and how it has been a year since our last Flower Communion celebration, a time when we celebrate the return of Springtime — of new life and new beginnings. Flowers are blooming on our cactus and baby birds are popping their tiny heads out of nests. City swimming pools and snow cone stands have opened up, in anticipation of all of the kids who are one grade older, this week or last!

These are all exciting things definitely worth celebrating, but as is human nature, I couldn’t help but think about all that’s happened in the past year. It has been a doozy: all the sad and awful things that have happened in the world, in our country, in Texas, all the loved ones who have died from this very church community… It makes a small house full of barn animals seem like a Zen retreat! I looked up “quotes about Springtime” to try and find some inspiration for today’s celebration and found this one by Doug Larson, “Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.”

That seemed perfect. Although spring here in Austin has meant torrential rains and not the slushy mess that it did for the northeast, but we are still a-whistlin’. We can think of so many disappointments, stresses, and tragedies to weigh down our proverbial slushy shoes, and yet we whistle on. We whistle to the tune of forward-thinking, of taking a stand when we know that something is wrong, of inspiring others to do the same. We lift our heads and whistle about hope for tomorrow and resolve for today.

We whistle because life has beauty beyond despair and joy beyond grief. We don’t whistle to forget that our shoes are filled with slush or to ignore the discomfort of it all. We whistle so that we don’t get stuck in hopelessness and grief and disappointment. We whistle because there is still so much for us to do, because being together is wonderful, because flowers are still blooming, because so many reasons…

A much-loved Mexican folk song, Cielito Lindo, sings, “Ay, ay, ay, ay Canta y no llores. Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito Lindo, los corazones.” Which roughly means, “La, la, la, la Sing and cry no more. Because singing gladdens the heart, my pretty darling.”

Whistle on. There is so much room in this tiny house. Let’s celebrate the hope of spring.

Flower Communion

It is time now for us to share in the Flower Communion. I ask that as you each in turn approach the communion vase you do so quietly–reverently–with a sense of how important it is for each of us to address our world and one another with gentleness, justice, and love. I ask that you select a flower — different from the one you brought — that particularly appeals to you. As you take your chosen flower — noting its particular shape and beauty — please remember to handle it carefully. It is a gift that someone else has brought to you. It represents that person’s unique humanity, and therefore deserves your kindest touch. Let us share quietly in this Unitarian Universalist ritual of oneness and love.

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 15 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.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Rev. Marisol Caballero
September 14, 2014

This Sunday we prepare for Austin Pride by looking back at our involvement in the struggle for LGBTQ equality, and look ahead to how our faith is calling us to action in the days and years ahead.

Call to Worship 
By Wayne Arnason

Take courage friends.
The way is often hard, the path is never clear, And the stakes are very high.
Take courage.
For deep down, there is another truth:
You are not alone.

Prayer

Source of Life that binds us, Some call you God,
Others call you Mother, Father, Universe, Love…
We give thanks today for your presence in this room today, For your presence in our hearts.
We invite this loving Spirit to dance with us, Sing with us,
Celebrate this family’s uniqueness,
Knowing that we’ve travelled a long road to arrive at today, And we have an unpredictable path laying before us, still, That will take us from tears to elation and back again.
We will gather our strength for this journey From You, our Eternal Source,
Who reminds us that loving community is Always a place for a weary traveler to rest Or to find that second wind.
May it be so.

Amen.

Sermon “Big Gay Sunday”

Unitarians and Universalists have been among those supporting equal rights and full inclusion of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people for many decades. The first gay marriage performed by one of our clergy in one of our churches, reportedly happened in the late 1950’s. This Sunday, we are getting into the spirit of the upcoming week by having our first ever, Big Gay Sunday! This will be the biggest, gayest worship service you’ve ever attended … at least within the past few weeks.

Some may wonder, what does it mean to gay-up a Sunday service? I’m glad you asked. The verb, “to gay-up,” as in “to gay-up” something or someone, means to embellish, to give a flamboyant flair, to celebrate the wacky, the outlandish, the loud, the divergent, the counter-cultural outsider. These are, of course, not words that describe the personality of every person whose sexual orientation or gender identity is apart from what the dominant culture expects of them or holds as “normal.” Not all gay men are flamboyant. Not all lesbians are butch, or masculine. Not all bisexuals are traveling through a promiscuous phase of confusion. Not all gender variant folks are drag queens. In fact, most of them are not.

These tired stereotypes are not at all what we mean by Big Gay Sunday. In the alphabet soup of the incredible diversity that makes up the “queer community,” otherwise known as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, questioning, and allies, when we call anything “Big Gay,” a huge dose of joy is implicit. To some who prefer the umbrella term “queer,” the term “gay” may sound exclusionary, as it leaves out the LBQIA and focuses only on the G. Some lesbian feminists have also noted that the term “gay” as a catch-all for the entire world’s queer population is inherently misogynist, as it’s an androcentric label, invented to describe homosexual men.

I disagree. Personally, though I understand the value in common vocabulary in movement-building and understand the term “queer’s” rise in popularity among academics and activists, to “queer” something and to “gay something up” have hugely different meanings. “To queer” means to analyze or approach a subject from an LGBTQ perspective. In seminary, we often spoke of, “queering the Bible,” or “a queer reading of Paul’s epistles,” for example.

Why go through so many changes about semantics when we just want to get down to the gaiety of this Sunday? I’m glad you asked that, too. Well, lance tried to commiserate with a gay friend about how folks always seem to assume that everyone is straight until proven otherwise. I confessed that I’ve often been guilty of this bias, myself. He responded, “Really?! I always assume that everyone’s gay until proven otherwise!” So, I suppose that I am approaching today with the biased assumption that, to many in this room, this may be the first experience of a Big Gay Sunday, or a Big Gay anything, for that matter. And, with this crowd, I will own that that is a huge assumption to make!

The truth is, this congregation has been involved in the work of welcoming all who come in good faith for quite a while. But, it took quite a bit of convincing for this church to get behind the idea doing the work required by the Unitarian Universalist Association to be officially recognized as a “Welcoming Congregation” to LGBT folks. I spoke with some of those who were involved in spearheading this effort, who remember those days. Folks spoke ofthis place, as were most institutions ofthe 60’s, 70’s and 80’s, very patriarchal and heterosexist. Though there were women’s dances held here for Austin’s lesbian population, a few out gay men, and Interweave was formed as gay/straight alliance, the unspoken message was that First UU Church of Austin was a culturally straight church. Folks at that time might have had to strain their imaginations to think about a time in which this church could be led by out gay clergy.

Among those who initiated the push for our congregation to receive the honor of being named a welcoming UU congregation, was Margaret Nunley and her partner, Jenny. The minister, Fred Wooten, was ambivalent, the board needed some persuading, and the congregation was confused about why we needed to bother engaging in a series of anti-discrimination workshops. “Aren’t we already welcoming to those people?” Margaret recalls how the help of a few staunch and fearless allies made all the difference in getting everyone on board. In particular, without the help of Doris & Henry Hug and Jim Burson, only but a few would have even shown up at the initial workshop.

Doris remembers, with pride, how adamant Henry was about these workshops moving forward. “He was ahead of his time,” Doris remembers. As the father of girls, he worked for the rights of women and, though he may not have used the word himself at the time, he would have certainly embraced it now- he saw issues of sexual orientation as feminist issues. The resistance by the congregation shocked these straight allies, but was no surprise to gay folks. Doris was taken aback when she heard such comments like, “Why do we even need to do this?” “I don’t think it’s something we need to talk about when they can just come to church, anyway.”

Change is difficult, especially when it requires taking note of personal prejudices and challenging views of what is “normal.” But, though the voices were few, love won out. About twenty-five participants began and completed the Welcoming Congregation curriculum and the congregation voted to apply for recognition of being a Welcoming Congregation within the first two years of the denomination launching the certification program! Make sure and take a glance of our plaque our in the lobby, now that you know what it took to get it there!

Among the requirements of Welcoming Congregations is a commitment to ongoing, continued education. This spring, we will honor that commitment by participating in the Welcoming Congregation renewal program, Living the Welcoming Congregation.

This year is the 75th anniversary of the landmark blockbuster, “The Wizard of Oz.” The theme of this year’s Austin Pride celebration is, “Welcome to the Wonderful Land of Oz-tin.” Our church is, once again, participating in the festival and parade, happening this coming Saturday, Sept. 20th, but there are Oz-themed pride events all week long. It all kicked off yesterday with the annual “Big Gay Brunch.” We invite you to show up here.

Folks often wonder about the connection between The Wizard of Oz, Judy Garland, & the larger gay community. No one can say it better than Pandora Boxx, star of TV’s greatest gifts to humanity, RuPaul’s Drag Race, wrote in a Huffington Post editorial

“They [weren’t] called “Friends of Dorothy” [in the 40’s and 50’s] for nothing! A pretty young gal gets swept away in a tornado, lands in a colorful magical land and squashes (literally) the one ugly being around. She then gets fabulous sparkly new shoes, meets three members of a Gay Men’s Chorus who help her get to a hologram Wizard. She then goes on to defeat the hag of the monkeys. That all sounds like a night out in West Hollywood on molly.

Ultimately, it’s about knowing that the power is within you. Again, the gays love their boozy, pill popping, messy, yet wickedly talented, divas and Judy Garland was one of the first. Divas, sparkly shoes and musical numbers? Need I say more?”

Yes, the movie is escapist and over-the-top campy which, as I mentioned early on, is not only something that gay culture admires, but the art of ironic exaggeration is one that we have perfected. Judy Garland, herself, was great at this, also, whether or not she intended to be. But, that isn’t the only reason that she is a gay icon. As Pandora Boxx notes, she was a tragic figure who overcame so much of what life threw at her, a quality that is sadly alltoo relatable. But, Ms. Garland was known for adoring gay people, who not only included her throngs of fans, but her father and many of her closest friends. She is reputed to have once said, “When I die I have visions of fags singing ‘Over the Rainbow‘ and the flag at Fire Island being flown at half-mast.” But, what’s more is that legend has it that on the night of the Stonewall Riots in New York’s Greenwich Village, the event which sparked the beginning ofthe modern Gay Rights Movement, began the night of Judy Garland’s funeral.

Time Magazine reported, decades later that, “The uprising was inspirited by a potent cocktail of pent-up rage (raids of gay bars were brutal and routine), overwrought emotions (hours earlier, thousands had wept at the funeral of Judy Garland) and drugs. As a 17-yearold cross-dresser was being led into the paddy wagon and got a shove from a cop, she fought back. [She] hit the cop and was so stoned, she didn’t know what she was doing – or didn’t care.”

That was 1969. We now have nineteen states that allow freedom to marry and fourteen states in which judges have ruled in favor of same-sex marriage, including Texas! So, why does pride still matter? Why do we still need festivals & parades? CNN contributor, LZ Granderson says, “Because Congress has yet to pass a law requiring people to hide the fact they are straight. Because the streets are not filled with children who have been kicked out of their homes for being straight. Because there seems to be a lack of stories in which someone has been beaten, tied to a fence and left to die or shot in the face at point blank range because they were straight.”

Marriage equality is important, but it is not, by far the only inequity suffered by queer people. Until I can walk into any grocery store (or church) while holding my fiance’s hand and not be given the stink eye, be spat at, called names, or be made to fear for my safety – all of which have happened to me and many others – Pride is necessary. For as long as we, as a historically marginalized community, hold memories of a painful, violent past, we will need to come together with each other and with our allies to be fierce!; to celebrate life lived brave and proud.

In this way, Pride is not just for “the gays,” it’s for our allies, too. So, I urge you, no matter which way you were born, to join us this Friday evening, 6-8pm for float decorating, and Saturday at our festival booth or to march with us in the parade! You can get more information and sign up at the Lifespan Religious Education booth after service. In keeping with the Oz theme, Meg will be the queen of our float, dressed as Glinda, The Good Witch, and I’ll be marching as Dorothy. Come in costume, in your Standing on the Side of Love T-shirts, or come as you are! We hope to see you there, gaying it up!

Benediction

Go gayly forth to be fierce in demonstrating love. Werk!

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 14 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.