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Rev. Michelle LaGrave
October 8, 2023
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Our lives are filled with moments of amazing grace, which break our hearts wide open with compassion for our fellow beings. We may not know why these moments come and go; even so we can meet them with gratitude together.

Chalice Lighting

We light this chalice to affirm that new light is ever waiting to break through to enlighten our ways. New truth is ever waiting to break through to illuminate our minds. New love is ever waiting to break through to warm our hearts. May we be open to this light and to the rich possibilities that it brings us.

Call to Worship

Come into this space, this sacred space, this sanctuary. Whether your sanctuary is here or at home or some other on-line space. Draw in its beauty as if drawing in a deep breath. Draw in its peace as if drawing in a deep breath and come, come into this space with hearts open, hearts ready to receive, hearts ready to give. Let us begin.

– Rev. Michelle LaGrave

Affirming Our Mission

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

Reading

THE SOUND OF THE GENUINE
By Howard Thurman

If I were to ask you what is the thing that you desire most in life this afternoon, you would say a lot of things off the top of your head, most of which you wouldn’t believe but you would think that you were saying the things that I thought you ought to think that you should say.

But I think that if you were stripped to whatever there is in you that is literal and irreducible, and you tried to answer that question, the answer may be something like this: I want to feel that I am thoroughly and completely understood so that now and then I can take my guard down and look out around me and not feel that I will be destroyed with my defenses down. I want to feel completely vulnerable, completely naked, completely exposed and absolutely secure.

This is what you look for in your children when you have them, this is what you look for in your husband if you get one. That I can run the risk of radical exposure and know that the eye that beholds my vulnerability will not step on me. That I can feel secure in my awareness of the active presence of my own idiom in me.

So as I live my life then, this is what I am trying to fulfill. It doesn’t matter whether I become a doctor, lawyer, housewife. I’m secure because I hear the sound of the genuine in myself and having learned to listen to that, I can become quiet enough, still enough, to hear the sound of the genuine in you.

Sermon

I enter the trauma room and stand off to the side, watching. A young man, barely a man, lies before me on a stretcher. He is combative, fighting with the medical staff about having his pants taken off, demanding the two police officers in the room be removed, and refusing to give his name or any information about what happened to him. I watch as he alternates between fighting and yelling with the staff and curling over on his side and crying about how much it hurts. He was found, by police, lying in a snowbank; a victim of assault. Not much is known, yet, though he is clearly injured on one side. His appearance; young, male, ears and tongue pierced, arm tattooed; and his manner; refusing to give his name or story in front of the police, his anger and combativeness toward the medical staff; give rise to a myriad of possible labels and stories, none of them flattering. Then he turns on his side once more, curls up into a ball, and cries about the pain. My heart breaks open. A part of me knows this young man could be … a gangbanger, a person accustomed to being in trouble with the law, an innocent victim, or a thousand other things.

But none of that matters now. The possible labels and stories have fallen away. All I can see now is a young boy; crying, in pain, and needing comfort. My heart has broken open. I move closer, encourage him to breathe, and rub his head in comfort. His chaplain is there. Someone who cares, not just about his body and its broken condition; but about his feelings and his spirit, which have also been broken. He has been seen and his need for emotional comfort and spiritual healing has been acknowledged.

Years ago, I worked as a chaplain resident in an intensive clinical pastoral education program. The hospital where I served is a Level 1 trauma center and contains the state’s only burn unit. It is located in a city filled with violent crime and gang activity. Patients seen cover a wide range of diagnoses; from gunshot wounds and stabbings to appendicitis; from cancer treatments and life-threatening burns to dehydration or frostbite and they cover all ages, from the not-yet-born to elders dying in hospice suites. The program itself is demanding even, at times, grueling. Residents are there to learn how to do pastoral care, in all of its forms, well. Eventually, they move on to churches and hospices, hospitals and synagogues; wherever they are called and feel the call. Meanwhile, the most is made of their time in the program; work-weeks range from 60 to 64 hours; some shifts lasting as long as 28 hours at a time. Written work and assignments are in addition to those hours. My aim in telling you all of this is to explain how easy it is to become jaded in such a setting. It takes a significant amount of dedication and commitment from anyone who chooses to do a residency. And I will admit, there were times when I questioned my own levels of dedication and commitment, especially after a long and sleep-deprived night. But … this night and this patient I just spoke of was not one of those times.

Though I eventually found out his name and that he had been beaten by several guys who he is going to “get” someday; I never did get the chance to talk with him and find out who he really is as a person and what his story was about. The next hour or so had been spent alternating between resisting staff and their attempts at medical care and allowing himself to be comforted and soothed by the chaplain. Eventually, he fell asleep, from sheer exhaustion, and for several hours. I did not see him again, though his presence remains with me still, for my heart had been broken open.

I do not know how or why these moments of broken-openness come and go, just that they do. I consider these moments of broken-openness to be moments of seeing, of truly seeing, or “essentially seeing” as Mark Nepo has termed it or “the sound of the genuine” as Howard Thurman has so eloquently described. I consider these moments of heart-broken-openness to be moments of amazing grace.

Amazing Grace. There is a story behind the song; one which you have probably heard. It goes like this … John Newton was a slave trader, who after surviving a horrific storm, became suddenly wracked with guilt about his chosen profession. Newton immediately turned his ship back to Africa, freed all his slaves, and, as a newly-converted Christian, wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace”. Now, as heart-warming as that story sounds, it is unlikely to be a story Newton himself would recognize. That story is really the legend behind the song. It does not reflect the sound of the genuine John Newton.

So today, I am going to tell you a different story; a different story about the same person and one, hopefully, John Newton would better recognize. This one is a story about a young boy frequently in trouble for disobeying his father, who grew into a young man impressed in the British navy. Of a deserter who was caught, publicly stripped and beaten, then demoted to the lowest rank. Of a slave trader brought back to life – by slaves sneaking him food from their own small allowance. Of a slave trader locked up by his own master – who went without food, shelter, or clothing – for many hours at a time; yet, still continued to trade slaves after he was rescued.

It is the story of a man who drank and swore too much, who derided Christians, who was disliked by his fellow crew yet was saved by them when he nearly went overboard in a drunken stupor. It is the story of a man who twice, by two different captains on two different ships, avoided drowning when he was sent on a last-minute errand. It is the story of a man who got shot in the hat, lived through at least two tropical diseases, one mutiny, and three slave revolts.

It is also the story of a 23 year old who converted to Christianity- yet continued to trade slaves. Of a 39 year old who became a priest, of a 47 year old who wrote a hymn, of a 60 year old who finally began to speak out against slavery – and continued to do so for 22 more years. John Newton’s story is NOT an easily-reducible story (as no one’s really is); and it is NOT the story of legend. John Newton’s story IS the story of a human life, of painfully slow growth, and change, and finally, transformation. This John Newton story reflects “the sound of the genuine” in one former slave-trader come priest. His story is a story of amazing grace. His story is a story of a heart broken open.

Knowing this story, the longer, deeper, fuller, though still-not-complete story, brings richer and deeper meaning to the words of this famous hymn. Listen, once more, with eyes and ears and hearts open, if you will …

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.
Twas grace which taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils, and storms I have already come.
Twas grace which brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home.

When John Newton penned the words “through many dangers, toils, and storms, I have already come” he wasn’t exaggerating; not by a long shot. Like all of us, his life was full of its own dangers and challenges and near misses. His life was replete with its own tragedies and sorrows. As my life is … and your life is … and all of my patients’ lives were … As Unitarian Universalists it is from our lives; from our direct, lived experiences that we build our thea/olgies and philosophies about what is sacred; about what is holy; about what gives meaning to our lives and what our lives mean.

This journey of meaning-making and discovery and, hopefully, self-growth is never-ending. William Ellery Channing, one of our early and most famous forebears, believed that this process (which he and other 19th century Unitarians termed self-culture) continued even past death and into the afterlife. Either way, we all continue, throughout our lives, to make meaning and to discover anew, as did I, during the time I spent working as a chaplain. Here are a few of the things I learned:

All of us, and any of us, can and do feel lonely and isolated at times and it is not a matter how many people we are surrounded by. Each of us, any of us, can get wrapped up in our own pain and suffering and when this happens we are often unable to see the loneliness and pain and suffering of others who surround us. I have often walked into a hospital room and discovered a person who is sitting, or lying, in isolation and loneliness and who is suffering. Though the hospital is 430 beds full, and almost all of the people who fill those beds are experiencing some kind of pain or suffering, each person feels alone. Alone, in the middle of four hundred and thirty other people, also feeling alone. And I daresay, there may be people right here, there probably are people right here, sitting in this room, amongst all these people, who feel lonely; at least sometimes. It can be as if each person is blind to the suffering of others and cannot see through their own pain. This is a natural phenomenon, inherent to the experience of being human, and can easily happen to any of us when we are hurting deeply.

So please hear me well. I do not mean any of this as criticism of any person or even as a critique of the human condition. Rather, I see these moments as opportunities; opportunities for grace; maybe even for amazing grace.

“Grace”, as a theological concept, traditionally refers to the grace of God. Though there are multiple definitions of exactly what grace is within Christianity, I like to explain it as a gift, neatly packaged and tied with a divine bow. Christians, may or may not believe grace is deserved, and they may differ on ideas about how grace is earned, or even if it is earned; but it seems that no matter what, by anyone’s definition, grace is always unexpected. When John Newton wrote “Amazing Grace” he certainly was referring to a Christian concept of the divine grace of God. Today, though, I’d like to argue that there is such a thing as human grace; a grace that, like divine grace, may or may not be earned, but is certainly always unexpected.

I believe that each of us needs to be seen, heard, known, affirmed, and validated in our pain and in our suffering and even in our joy. I believe this needs to happen whether we are lying in a hospital bed or sitting in a pew on Sunday morning; whether we are at a gathering of friends or standing by the grave of a loved one. No one’s life is just like another’s, even when we are experiencing similar life circumstances. Each person’s experience is unique and must be seen for what it is. And when someone comes along and sees another’s pain, or joy, or sorrow, sees it’s essential truth, and sees the person behind the emotion; whether that someone is your chaplain or your minister, your friend or a stranger to you; you have been a recipient of grace. Human grace; extended from one human to another; yet no less holy than any kind of divine grace.

I believe that when we can see, when we can essentially see, the truth of another’s life through their own eyes and hearts, then our hearts are broken open and our lives are filled with amazing grace.

May it be so. Amen and Blessed Be.

Benediction:

With hearts open, and with a love which knows no bounds, may your spirits be filled with amazing grace.

SERMON INDEX

Most sermons during the past 23 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link above 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.

PODCASTS

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

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Michelle LaGrave
September 24, 2023
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Have you ever felt like you didn’t belong – somewhere, somehow, sometime in your life? Probably, if you’re like most people. What makes the difference in feeling like you do or do not belong? How can we help ourselves, each other, and people we haven’t even met yet cultivate that oh-so-important sense of belonging? And how does all of this relate to our Unitarian Universalist Principles?

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.

Call to Worship

Lifting Our Voices #36

We are all longing to go home to some place
we have never been – a place, half- remembered, and haIf-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

Affirming Our Mission

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

Reading

YOU BELONG: A CALL FOR CONNECTION
by Sebene Selassie

“When you don’t like the joke, you belong. When you’re the “only one” of your race, disability, or sexuality, you belong. When you’re terrified to speak in public, you belong. When you feel hurt or when you have hurt someone else you belong. When you are down to your last dollars and the rent is due, you belong. When you feel overwhelmed by the horrors of human beings, you belong. When you have a debilitating illness, you belong. When everyone else is getting married, you belong. When you don’t know what you’re doing with your life, you belong. When the world feels like it’s falling apart, you belong. When you feel you don’t belong, you belong.”

Sermon

I remember well the moment I knew that I belonged in a UU congregation. I was in the meetinghouse, standing at the kitchen sink to wash my hands, when I saw this … a bottle of Seventh Generation dish soap. And then I saw that the paper towels were unbleached, brown, recycled paper towels.

This was many years ago, long before you could go to the regular grocery store and buy all sorts of cruelty-free, environmentally friendly, vegan much of anything. Instead, you had to go to a natural foods store or order what you wanted online. That meant that in many areas of my life, like at work, I felt different from most other people. I was a vegetarian, with vegan tendencies, and had been for many years. And most folk, even in the liberal areas, just … weren’t.

So, back to the sink. There I stood, looking at dish soap and paper towels, and a feeling overcame me that here were a people who would understand me, all of me. Here, I could be free. Here, I wouldn’t feel so different, so separate. I felt my body relax, as if I had been holding my breath and could finally breathe. A missing piece of the puzzle, that thing I had been longing for, without even knowing it, had been found. Here, I was at home. Here, I belonged.

If Sebene Selassie, the author of this morning’s reading, were here, I think she would tell me, tell all of us, that this experience of mine wasn’t really about finding a place I belonged, so much as it was about experiencing a feeling of belonging. Because I already belonged. I belong. And so do you. Selassie would say, and has said, that the key to belonging comes from within. We all already belong to everything – to ourselves, to each other, to the cosmos. That the feeling of not belonging comes from a “delusion of separation” – a false belief that we are separate. That if we don’t feel like we belong, we can learn to feel it, because belonging is wired within us. Feelings of belonging come from within.

Let’s sit with that for a moment. Everyone of you, whether you are here in person, or watching online, or watching on television, belongs. You already belong. Whether you feel it or not, and I hope you can, you belong.

Selassie, among other things, is a meditation teacher and a student of Buddhism. She explains it this way: There is a paradox in Buddhism called the Doctrine of Two Truths

“the absolute or ultimate truth of interconnection and the relative or conventional truth of difference. The absolute and the relative seem to contradict each other … but they describe only one reality. Belonging flourishes within this paradox: everything is connected, yet everything is experienced as separate.”

Within our own Unitarian Universalist tradition, we know this as “the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part”. We are interconnected. Interdependent. We cannot separate ourselves from the web of existence, from all of life here on earth, or from the cosmos itself.

Let me say more about this interdependent web of all existence and where it comes from. As a member congregation of the Unitarian Universalist Association of congregations, we have covenanted to affirm and promote several Principles. These are found within Article II of our UUA’s bylaws and, because of their importance, are printed many other places, including in the front of our gray hymnals.

The interdependent web is the 7th Principle. All Unitarian Universalists, all UU congregations, have covenanted to affirm and promote the interdependent web of all existence. This is not a belief statement, but an action statement. Though it may be helpful to understand that many of us have incorporated the Principles into our personal belief systems.

Now, bear with me for a moment, because here comes the part where we need to catch everybody up all together. As we are a non-creedal faith, we rely on covenant and because we are a living tradition, we require of ourselves to review our covenant and, therefore, our Principles, every so many years. We are currently in one of those review periods and so we are living, for a year, with a new format, based on shared values, which will then come up for a final vote in the General Assembly in June of 2024.

These are our (proposed) shared values. Love is at the center, along with a flaming chalice. The remaining six values are pictured in a circle around the chalice. Starting at 12:00, there is:

• Interdependence, in a swirl of orange;
• Equity, in a swirl of red;
• Transformation, in a swirl of purple;
• Pluralism, in a swirl of blue;
• Generosity, in a swirl of teal.
• Justice, in a swirl of yellow;

(The image and discussion of the proposed change can be found HERE.)

If you listen or read carefully, you will find the familiar language of all of our Principles reincorporated into these shared values. The proposed language, which goes with the value of Interdependence, is this:

“Interdependence. We honor the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. With humility and reverence, we covenant to protect Earth and all beings from exploitation, creating and nurturing sustainable relationships of repair, mutuality, and justice.”

We are interconnected, interdependent with all of existence. We cannot remove ourselves from it, therefore, we belong. By the very nature of our existence, we belong. We belong to the interdependent web, we belong to the earth, the rocks, the trees, the oceans, the mountains, the creeks and rivers, the forests, the deserts, the animals, the birds, the volcanos, the lands where we have never been. The parts we like and the parts we don’t. We belong to all of it. And we belong to each other. Whether we want to belong or not, whether we try to belong or not. We belong because we are. Whether we see it, or hear it, or feel it, or sense it, or experience it, or not – we belong because we are.

(Story about cafeteria table in seminary)

My friend belonged, but did not experience feelings of belonging, did not experience feeling welcomed at the table. No matter our intentions of radical welcome, no matter our efforts at radical welcome, no matter whether we were the cool kids or not. My friend perceived us as separate, as disconnected. Sometimes, the best laid plans simply go awry. And that’s okay. We learn something from it and then we try again.

Welcoming is the Soul Matters theme for this month for some of the small groups (chalice circles). So, I’ve been thinking a lot about welcoming and belonging, how they are similar and how they are different and where they overlap. To my mind, belonging is something that just is, whether we want it or not, and whether we can feel it or not. This is new thinking for me, to which I greatly credit Sebene Selassie after reading and reflecting deeply upon her work and how it converges with my own life and experiences.

Welcoming, on the other hand, is about actions we can take. We can practice welcoming. We can even practice Radical Welcoming. And these practices can, potentially, increase feelings of belonging in those we are welcoming. Here, this congregation practices welcoming in a lot of ways: there is a welcome table, there are name tags, cough drops, and Kleenex, there are gender neutral single stall bathrooms, there is a membership coordinator, there are classes about membership, there is a group that helps people connect to the various church ministry teams, there is a BIPOC group, there is an LGBTQ group, there are classes on antiracism and trans inclusion, and so, so much more.

I see welcoming, or radical welcoming, as actions we can choose to take, and which highlight the strands of the interdependent web of all existence. It is easy to fool ourselves into thinking that we are separate, disconnected, or don’t belong. It is easy to get busy with our lives and not notice the connections. the strands of the web, which are there all the time. Welcoming practices help ourselves and each other to see, or hear, or sense, or otherwise experience the strands of connection inherent in our interdependent web. It’s kind of like in one of those action movies where someone is trying to break into a high security area crisscrossed by invisible lasers. The would-be intruder, who is also often the heroic figure, pulls out a can of something, sprays it all around, and the laser beams suddenly become visible. I like to imagine engaging in welcoming practices as something like spraying that can. We can make the strands of the interdependent web, which connects all of us, and to which we all belong, visible by spraying that can. Just like spraying a room to find all the hidden laser beams, we welcome people to highlight the strands of belonging.

While speaking of belonging, and of welcoming, I want to highlight another important aspect of our living tradition. We are not a faith where anything goes, where you can believe anything you want, or do anything you want. Our beliefs and actions are all meant to be oriented toward the good, for the building of a better world, for the creation of beloved community. While people of all identities, or combination of identities, marginalized or privileged, are welcome here, not all behaviors are. This is why covenanting is so critical to our faith.

When we are at our best, we have good, strong, healthy boundaries. In this congregation, that means being a people of goodwill. And, by the way, the Healthy Relations Team is currently working on some proposed changes to the church covenant to make it more inclusive. If you’d like to participate in this process, go see them at their table at social hour.

All people of goodwill – Whoever you are, wherever you come from, wherever you find yourself on your life’s journey, whichever your pronouns, whether you’ve walked in or rolled in or dialed in, whomever you love, you are welcome here. You belong here.

May it be so evermore. Amen and Blessed Be.

Benediction

All know, that you are welcome here.
Know that you belong.
Know this deep down in the center of your soul:
Each and everyone of you belongs,
All the time, everywhere, to everyone, to everything. May the interdependent web shimmer and shine, hum and thrum,
for all your days and for all of your nights.

Amen, Amen, and Blessed Be.

SERMON INDEX

Most sermons during the past 23 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link above 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.

PODCASTS

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

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Michelle LaGrave
August 27, 2023
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Rev. Michelle LaGrave will share her theology of interim ministry, some of her hopes for this coming year, and a little bit about herself too.

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.

Call to Worship

WE GATHER HERE TO WORSHIP
By Gary Kowalski

We gather here to worship:
to seek the truth, to grow in love, to join in service;
to celebrate life’s beauty and find healing for its pain;
to honor our kinship with each other and with the earth;
to create a more compassionate world,
beginning with ourselves;
to wonder at the mystery that gave us birth;
to find courage for the journey’s end;
and to listen for the wisdom that guides us
in the quietness of this moment.

Affirming Our Mission

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

Reading

READING # 120 FROM “LIFTING OUR VOICES”
By Erika Hewitt

READER 1: I don’t have anything to say.

READER 2: Well, I do – but it might not be interesting to anyone.

READER 1: I have secrets inside of me, and struggles, and I don’t know if I’m ready to share them.

READER 2: I want to hear what you have to say.

READER 1: I want to speak of the deepest things together.

READER 2: I want to hear what you dream about, what you hope for.

READER 1: I want to know how you have come to arrive at this resting point along your journey.

READER 2: What if I speak and you don’t understand me?

READER 1: I will listen, and listen again, until my hearing becomes understanding.

READER 2: What if can’t find the words to share the world inside of me?

READER 1: I believe that wise words will emerge from you.

READER 2: How can I trust you to hold my life’s stories? You, who I may not even know?

Reader 2: How will this work? What will happen? What awaits us?

Reader 1: We can find out anything by beginning.

Sermon

“Let us begin to listen, and trust, and to know one another more deeply.” (from the reading)

Let us begin to listen, to know one another more deeply, and to trust. Let us begin by sharing our stories. Mine begins like this …

I was born under a cross. This might seem like an odd beginning for a Unitarian Universalist minister, but it is true, both literally and figuratively. Not only was there a lighted cross on the hospital itself, there was a giant lighted cross that sat upon the top of a hill and loomed over the city, beneath which, on the side of the hill, in large white letters, were the words “Holy Land”.

I was born a liberal Protestant into a world dominated by Catholicism, a world that, upon later reflection, seemed to be re-living the Protestant Reformation. As a Congregationalist, I was part of a numerical minority and experienced my small world as such. I was taught everything we believed in contrast to what Catholics believed. We kept things simple. Crosses instead of crucifixes. No idols. That was a big one. Not a single painting or drawing or image of Jesus anywhere. Which was fine, when I was in my home church, but quickly became a moral dilemma every time I was in a Catholic Church, and there were many times – for weddings or funerals or Girl Scout events or while sleeping over a friend’s house. The problem was I didn’t know where to rest my eyes there were statues everywhere, so I mostly wound up looking at the floor. It was safe there. I didn’t want to get in trouble with G_d for accidentally committing idolatry.

I was, in some ways, a serious child, at least when it came to my faith. While I didn’t always love Sunday School, I did love being in church. I loved the joyful entrance songs and the long processional of robed choir members and ministers. Sometimes I daydreamed about what it might like to be a minister, though I thought it wouldn’t be a good match for me – too much writing, which I didn’t like, plus people were always telling me I was shy.

Well, as you can see, I eventually did become a minister, a transformational process which began when I was in my 30s. I sat down at the dining room table one day and began to read an inspirational article about Ghandi. In it, they talked about how someone had once asked Ghandi if he had a mission or a motto in life. His answer was: “My life is my message.” In less than an instant, I knew that I needed to become a minister. By then, I was a Unitarian Universalist. I knew that I wanted my life to be my message and in order for that to be true, I needed to become a UU minister. This was a deeply spiritual experience.

One I didn’t completely trust at first. So, I went through a process of logically confirming that becoming a minister would be a good match for me. I found out it was. I had received my call.

Years later, and early in my ministry, I candidated for a position as a settled minister in a church. It turned out to be one of life’s most heartbreaking, and best, experiences. The vote to call did not pass, and when people talked about it with me afterwards, they explained that the discussion was all about my identities, that I was queer, and disabled, and had a service dog, and was married to a person who was transgender, and was … large. My heart broke. These people, my people, had broken faith with me, with all of us. That these discussions had happened, so openly and explicitly, was exactly what we UUs were not supposed to be. I was shocked.

And I, rather quickly, become determined. I had already done one transitional ministry, so I turned right around and applied for another. My mission became clear. I would travel around the country, teaching congregations, through my presence, that it was okay to have a minister like me. My initial call was affirmed. My life would continue to be my message.

And so, here I am, your Interim Co-Lead Minister. Over my time as a minister, I have served congregations in Texas, Nebraska, Illinois, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. I know, that’s a lot of moving around! Some of it has been hard, much of it has been rewarding. I have met many wonderful people along the way and done some good, I think.

On the micro level, my mission is to support congregations in becoming stronger and healthier.

On the macro level, my mission is to build a better world.

We will begin, or continue, as you have already done some interim ministry, with a practice of self-reflection. My role is to, symbolically, hold up a mirror, reflecting what I see, so that you might better see yourselves, who you are as a congregation, how you function, so that, together, we might discern some patterns in who you are now as a congregation and how you have been. This is all done so that you might thoughtfully and intentionally choose which patterns you would like to continue and which patterns you are ready to let go. I will support and guide you through this process, and I won’t let you fall off any cliffs I see coming. But I want to be clear, and I want you to be clear, that this is your congregation. It is not your ministers’ congregation. It is not Rev. Meg’s congregation, though she will remain your honored emerita. It is your congregation. Who you are and how you are in this world, is up to you.

You are a strong, vital, healthy, growing congregation and you have much to be proud of. That will not change. And, this interim time can be a rich and rewarding time in the life of your congregation, a time when you become even stronger, even healthier, even more vital. The way this happens is by engaging in the hard work of cultural change, maybe even, of transformation. I will be here to guide you and support you on the way through, even as it is your congregation and your work.

Why do I do this work, this ministry? Why should you do this work? This is the crux of the issue, isn’t it? Underlying all of this cultural change work, underlying all of this potential transformation, is the work of antiracism and antioppression, or, if you prefer newer language, the work of belonging and inclusion. As our congregations work, as this congregation works, to dismantle oppression, to widen the circle of concern, to become even more inclusive, to build on feelings of belonging, we, you, are building a better world, we, you are creating beloved community. This is our, yours and mine, thea/ological work. This is the way we move our thea/ology from our minds, our intellect, from our hearts, our compassion, into action.

May it be so. Amen and Blessed Be.

Benediction

Go now in Peace, with Love in your hearts, kindness on your lips, and compassion at your fingertips, blessing all others as you yourselves are now blessed. Our worship has ended, now our service begins.

Please join me in saying: Amen and Blessed Be.

SERMON INDEX

Most sermons during the past 23 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link above 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.

PODCASTS

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