The Power of Storytelling

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
June 18, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Telling stories is central to how human beings make meaning and view our world. How do the stories we learn and tell ourselves affect our lives and our society?


Sermon

Genesis: In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the deep. Then God said, “Let there be light”. And there was light.

Then God said, “Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters.” Thus God made the firmament, and divided the waters, which were under the firmament from the waters, which were above the it; and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven.

Turn

The Sky World Woman: Back at the beginning, the world that we now know as earth was nothing but water, while above it was a larger, more ancient world – above it was the sky world.

And a woman from the sky world, who was very curious, had dug a hole in that sky world. She dug and dug until she dug all the way through and fell into the hole and out the other side of it. And so it was that this sky woman came tumbling down toward the vast ocean of water that was the whole of our world at that time.

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Then God said, “Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear”; and it was so.

Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb that yields seed, and the fruit tree that yields fruit according to its kind”; and it was so.

Then God said, “Let the waters abound with an abundance of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth. Let the earth bring forth the living creature according to its kind: cattle and creeping thing and beast of the earth”; and it was so.

Turn

Now, living upon our ancient watery world were all manner of water animals, and the animals looked up to heavens and saw the sky world woman falling toward them at an altogether alarming rate of speed. And so the geese and ducks and other water birds flew up to her, forming a net with their bodies and catching her as she fell, bringing her gently to the face of the waters, where they placed her on the back of a giant sea turtle.

Turn

Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created male then female. Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply.

Turn

Well, now the sky world woman and the water world animals had a problem, because the sea turtle could not hold her up forever, and the woman really could not swim all that well. One of the animals, many say it was the platypus, recalled that there might be a substance called mud deep below the surface of the waters and perhaps that could be brought up to create something upon which the woman could rest.

And so one by one the animals began trying to dive as deep as they could in search of mud. The pelicans tried. A walrus tried, and on and on, but each of them returned to the surface without having been able to go deep enough to bring up any mud. Finally, the otter tried. It was gone avery, very long time under the waters until they all feared it had drowned.

Suddenly though, it popped to the surface of the waters a scoop of mud in its paw.

The sky woman spread the mud on the back of the turtle and began to sing and dance upon it, and the animals sang and danced with her and the mud began to spread and separate the waters until there was plenty of muddy land for the Woman to live upon, as well as son1e of the animals who had decided to go with her.

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Now, you probably know the rest of the biblical Genesis story.

God puts Adam and Eve into a great garden – a perfect world of beauty and bliss where all their needs are met. He tells them there is only one rule. They may not eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They do anyway, many tellings of this story blame the woman, and an angry God thrusts them out of the garden and into a howling wilderness, after which much toiling, trouble, sinning and suffering ensue.

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In our other story this morning, which I found through the work of two Native American writers and storytellers, Robin Wall Kimmerer and Thomas King, the Sky Woman gives birth to twins, who work with the animals to mold the mud into mountains, valleys and plains, as well as to cut rivers and streams through it. From seeds the woman had in her hand from all her digging before she fell, they place upon the land all of the plants and vegetation that the animals and early humans will need for food and shelter.

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Now, for those of you on this side of the sanctuary to whom I just told the Genesis creation story, let’s think about some of the key themes and elements of this story.

There is a formality to it. It creates a hierarchical world – God, then humans, then animals and plants. Humans are given dominion over all other life. We have an omnipotent, male God who speaks of all creation into existence in a solitary, individual act. We have humans being given abundance and then, because of their original sin (and thus their fundamental depravity), being thrown into scarcity. The world is a competitive place – God versus the devil – humans versus the elements – and each other. We have woman made second and blamed for the original sin. We have harmony being transformed into chaos.

And let’s think about what sort of culture those of us with this creation mythology might form – one that is hierarchical, staid and individualistic – one that focuses on competition and scarcity?

Perhaps it might become a culture that values power over others and thus could easily become warlike, could justify imperialism, colonization, slavery, racism and other forms of oppression – a culture that is foundationally patriarchal and that sees the natural world as a resource to be exploited.

Turn

And for those of you on this side of the sanctuary, some of the main themes of the Native American creation story I told to you are quite different.

It is far less formal, even playful. There is no omnipotent God.

Instead, the humans and the animals start with divine-like abilities. Working in cooperation, the humans and the animals bring the world into being, turn chaos toward harmony. They exist communally and with far more balance and equity – no human dominion here. The original human is female, and the story has a maternal quality to it.

With this as a creation myth, what sort of culture and society might we form? Might it not be very different?

Now, I am over simplifying a bit. Still, the differences are stark.

The power our stories have over us at a very fundamental level as individuals and as communities and societies is clear.

We are storytelling creatures. We make sense of our experiences by folding them into a narrative that our brains are constantly constructing and reconstructing for us.

And this is important to know, because once we let a story loose in our world, we can never really take it back. We can only change the telling of it or create a competing narrative.

Of course, we should not read these mythological stories as being literally, historically true. They are to be read as metaphor, as poetic and symbolic. Reading them as too literal is a mistake we often accuse fundamentalists of making.

Yet, I think we too can do this in a sort of reverse way, by also reading these stories too literally and thereby dismissing them without considering the poetic meaning and beauty we might find through them.

Many of you are likely familiar with the Christian story of the virgin birth of Jesus, the divine son of God, whom God sent to the earth only that he might die on the cross to wash our depravity clean with his very blood so that whosoever should believeth in him should not perish, but rise again as he did after his crucifixion.

I, personally, cannot take this story in a literal sense. And told the way it often gets told, it sometimes embodies values and ideas that I believe can be harmful – violence, human depravity, redemption through suffering, the spilling of blood and death.

There are other ways this mythological story can be told though, with a poetry that I find much more agreeable.

Here’s an example.

Once there was a spark of divinity that arose out of humanity’s highest aspirations for living more fully, with more love, compassion and joy. And this spark lured humans toward the more life-giving, lifefulfilling choices available to them within the creative possibilities of their universe.

But the evils of avarice, jealousy and tribalism obscured their ability to see these creative choices held before them. The powerful could not see past their dominance and greed. The poor and oppressed were prevented from reaching for their full potential.

Still, there was good in humans. And this found expression in the story of a child – a child who represented our highest human aspirations. The child grew into a wise leader, teaching others the healing power of love, drawing them toward compassion, calling them to give preference to the poor and oppressed until such circumstances would no longer exist.

But some of the most powerful among them would not hear this call. They vowed never to allow such teachings to continue, and they killed this wise one to extinguish that spark of divinity.

What they did not know, is that human aspirations transcend any one person. They rise again and again even up against the physical loss of one or more among us.

What they could not know was that by killing one person, they only caused that spark to grow stronger, carried forward in the hearts of those who wished to dwell in love and in all that is life giving.

Same story told metaphorically and expressing a very different set of values, not to mention far less blood and gore than in the Mel Gibson film about it.

And I think it is important for us to reclaim and recast some of these ancient stories because they have been implanted into the very foundational structures of our societies. Social and political science research has found that these myths are transmitted even into modern secular societies where, for even the non-religious, they are enculturated through the ethno-symbols, memories, values, rituals and traditions embedded within the ongoing practices of a people. They are present even within the very language in which we think and speak.

Some of you may have heard me talk about how when I was five years old, I told my mom I was going to be a minister when I grew up. But we were Southern Baptists, and when I found I could not fit within that religion, I created a story about what all religion was and so thoroughly rejected the religious stories of my childhood, that I left my self with absolutely no context within which to even consider ministry.

It wasn’t until many years later that I found Unitarian Universalism and began to feel a calling toward ministry resurging.

I described that calling to a rather sharp-tongued friend of mine as “a really really persistent little voice inside me”. She replied, “Well, tell the little voice to shut the hell up.” I laughed. She did too.

Later though, I realized that telling the little voice to shut up was what the story I had created for myself about religion had been causing me to do for all those many years. I began to recreate my own story about religion, as well as reframe the religious stories of my childhood, so that I could finally fulfill the aspiration toward which I felt beckoned.

And I think that it is vital that we as a liberal religious faith reclaim and recast these religious stories even though we may not share the beliefs and theology they have sometimes been used to express. They are a part of the very fabric of the culture and country in which we live.

And currently they far too often are being used to cast a narrative that justifies vast wealth inequality, authoritarianism, violence, oppression, hyper-individualism and the destruction of our planet. Certain folks are among the valued, chosen people and thus deserving of their wealth and power and others are expendable or even to be debased.

The New York Times recently ran an article about how a new public and political, liberal religious voice is awakening after lying largely dormant for nearly 40 years.

I believe that voice is sorely needed right now. It’s been too quiet for too long. To amplify our highest aspirations for greater peace, environmental stewardship, compassion and communalism, we have to be willing to reclaim our religious voices in the public square and recast the religious narrative that has taken hold. We have to be willing to use words like morality, good and evil.

And, if we are to ever develop greater understanding and compassion with those whom we disagree, we must also be able to hear and understand their stories and to speak our own.

The stories we tell and the ways in which we tell them define us as human beings.

To change ourselves, our relationships, our communities, our nation and our world for the better, we will have to reclaim and reframe some stories that have already been let loose in our world.

From time to time, we will even have to create new ones.

It may not be as hard as it might seem. Maybe we dive into the deep, bring up a little mud and begin the act of creation over and over agaIn.

May we sing and dance as we do so. Amen.

Benediction

As you go out into our world now, may you carry with you stories of compassion, joy and peace.
May the story of your life be centered in love.
May the ongoing story we write together be one of justice and healing.
May the congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed Be”.

Go in peace.


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.

 

Who loved you forward?

Rev. Nell Newton
June 11, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

How did you get into this mess? Whatever your particular mess might be, and we all have at least one. We reflect on the work of our community as growers of both roots and wings.


Text of this sermon is not yet available. Click the play button to listen.

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.

 

Dude, you’re stressing me out

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
June 4, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

We are in challenging times, encountering much change within UUism and our church. We look at how stress can show up in our lives and steps to manage it.


Reading:
By Erika A. Hewitt

As we enter into worship, put away the pressures of the world
that ask us to perform, to take up masks, to put on brave fronts.

Silence the voices that ask you to be perfect.

This is a community of compassion and welcoming.
You do not have to do anything to earn the love contained within these walls.

You do not have to be braver, smarter, stronger, better
than you are in this moment to belong here, with us.

You only have to bring the gift of your body,
no matter how able;
your seeking mind, no matter how busy;
your animal heart, no matter how broken.

Bring all that you are, and all that you love, to this hour together.
Let us worship together.

Reading:
David O Rankin

There must be a time when we cease speaking
to be fully present with ourselves.

There must be a time when we exclude clamor
by listening to nothing whatsoever.

There must be a time when we forgo our plans
as if we had no plans at all.

There must be a time when we abandon conceits
and tap into a deeper wisdom.

There must be a time when we stop striving
and find the peace within.

Sermon

Many years ago, my spouse, Wayne, and I were both working with a non-profit organization that was a part of the American Foundation for AIDS Research (AmFAR) HIV research network. In 1994, we held our annual AmFAR meeting at a big hotel in New Port Beach, California.

After the first day of the meeting, we had a nice dinner and an opening night party and then all went off to our rooms to get some sleep. Wayne and I were in a room located on one of the upper floors of the hotel. At around 4:30 a.m., the next morning, the building started shaking violently. I anchored myself in bed holding tight to one edge of it until the shaking stopped, at which point, the building commenced swaying back and forth, something that felt most unnatural for a building to be doing. Foolishly, I got up and looked out the window. The water in the pool far below was splashing out of each side of it. It looked about half empty. Terrified, I dashed back into the center of the room.

We had just experienced the Northridge Earthquake, the epicenter of which had been less than 60 miles away.

After the swaying finally stopped, and we had calmed down a little, we finally went back to bed to try to get some fitful sleep, when suddenly, a speaker in the wall of our room blared to life and the very young sounding voice of the overnight manager came over it.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we have just experienced an earthquake.” “Dooooon’t panic.”

Then there was this clicking sound, which I am guessing is when he thought he had turned the mike off, and then we hear from further away, “So, what do we do now?”

We found out the next day, that one of the other meeting attendees had panicked, bolting from his bed wearing nothing but his underwear and out the door of his room, which slammed shut behind him. He ran across the hallway right into a mirror on the wall opposite his room, breaking the glass with his forehead. And so it was that he found himself, dressed in only his skivvies, locked out of his room with his forehead bleeding.

Now, the moral of this story is stress and anxiety can make us do really stupid stuff. They also can be bad for our health, (even when we don’t run around half naked and bust our forehead on a mirror).

The terms “stress” and “anxiety” are interrelated. They can cause very similar effects on our behavior, health and mental status. They are not exactly the same though.

Stress is normally thought of us an acute reaction to external events or situations in our lives.

Anxiety is an internal state rooted in fear that can exist with or without such external stressors.

In common everyday language though, we often say something like, “I am really stressed out” when we are actually feeling is anxiety, whether or not it is in reaction to an external stressor.

Family systems theory is a field in psychology and psychiatry that looks at how entire human systems – families, communities, churches, nations – can as a system “get stressed out”. Anxiety can fill up the whole system.

The entire system can start to do stupid stuff.

And we as members of the system can pass the anxiety around to one another, causing it to spread throughout the system like a virus.

The longer the anxiety lasts, the more chronic it becomes, the more it can hold us back and do us harm to us, as individuals and to our family, church or community.

And, my beloveds, we are living in a highly stressful, anxiety provoking time.

We face potentially devastating consequences from global climate change, and, speaking of doing stupid stuff, Trump just withdrew us from the global climate pact. Covfefe indeed.

We are witnessing terrorism. We are experiencing increased hate crimes and violence.

No matter what our political outlook, the divisiveness and polarization we are seeing at the national and state levels produces anxiety for folks of all political persuasions.

I know many folks in this church have recently gotten more involved in political activism than ever before, moved to action by fears of growing authoritarianism and harmful public policy being enacted.

It’s wonderful that so many folks are living out their highest values in the public and political arena. Yet doing so can also stress us out. It can be hard to keep up with all of the rallies, petitions, town meetings and other actions. It is scary to call up the office of a politician whom we know disagrees with us.

I’ve talked with many of you who have expressed how difficult it can be to balance all of this with the demands of life and family and just paying attention to our own needs for physical and mental wellbeing.

And this is in addition to the normal stressors of our day-to-day lives – jobs, bills, overloaded schedules and the like.

Peter Steinke is a renowned congregational consultant who applies family systems theory to churches. Listen to some things he lists as potentially being the most anxiety provoking for a religious community:

Strife or conflict at the denominational level. Check.
Large decreases or increases in attendance or membership. We have averaged about 40 more folks attending on Sundays since the election. Check.
The unexpected absence of a minister or other key leadership. Check.
Building construction or renovation. Check.
Ladies and gentlemen, doooooon’t panic.

Joking aside we are experiencing a lot of things that can make as fearful and anxious, and, as I mentioned earlier, a chronic state of anxiety can cause us harm.

As individuals, it can cause ill health effects too numerous to mention them all. Examples include things like premature heart disease, mental health problems, infertility and immune suppression. It can also impede our memory, decision-making and general ability to function effectively.

In our families and congregation, anxiety can result in getting stuck, where we avoid making the tough decisions and lose our ability to respond creatively as a group. We can lose sight of our mission. It can lead to the formation of factions and infighting. It can result in fake fights and highly emotional responses that are greatly out of proportion to whatever the stressor might be.

In one church, lots and lots of email messages were sent expressing great upset over the fact that the church secretary used the term “worship associate” rather than “lay leader” in the order of service one Sunday.

That was a fake fight to avoid the real anxiety that folks were feeling because a new minister was making larger changes to how they did worship overall.

OK, we know anxiety can have these ill effects and that we currently have all these potential sources of anxiety.

So, what do we do now?

I’m going to share some of what we can do, but first I want to offer the caveat that I an not seeing much at all in the way of anxious reactivity currently in this church. I offer the following as tools should we need them.

At the congregational level, there are several healthy ways we can handle anxiety and help keep its level lower. We have in place structures and systems, such as our covenant of healthy relations and our conflict resolution procedure. These and other resources are on our church website.

We also try to make clear what the lines of authority and accountability are. For example, our senior minister, Meg, has asked me to serve as the acting senior minister during her sabbatical so that folks will know to whom to take matters they would normally have brought to Meg.

Another thing we can do is use “I statements” when having important discussions in the church. I statements are when I clearly label my point of view as what I think, rather than expressing my world view as a fact of nature to which, of course, any reasonable person would naturally have to agree.

We can also help prevent the spread of anxiety within the church system by avoiding what’s called triangulation.

I’ll give you an example, but I must pause for the following disclaimer. “The persons and events in this triangulation example are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.”

OK, so triangulation is when Tommy is upset with Walter because Walter was supposed to give him a ride to church last Sunday. Walter completely forgot and did not pick him up. This Sunday, Tommy sees Walter getting coffee in the fellowship hall, but instead of talking directly with Walter, he goes to Suzy and says, “I’m so mad at Walter I could spit. He was supposed to give me a ride last Sunday and he never showed up. Could you go tell him how rude that was and make him apologize to me?

Translation: “Hi Suzy, have some of my anxiety.”

Suzy can avoid being triangulated by refusing to take on the anxiety and saying something like, “Wow, that sounds like you really need to talk with Walter. Want me to walk over there with you?”

What Dr. Steinke and other family systems folks will tell you though is that the number one thing we can all do to most greatly lower the anxiety in our family, community or church is to work on lowering our own anxiety as individuals.

We do that through a process called, “self-differentiation”. Self-differentiation is when we get to know ourselves and our own patterns deeply. We define what our own highest values and beliefs are.

And, we identify activities – practices that are calming and centering for us and get disciplined about engaging in such practices. By doing all of this, we can become a more non-anxious presence when we interact with others.

Now being a non-anxious presence doesn’t mean that we will never feel anxiety. It just means that we have identified our unconscious responses to anxiety – our patterns and emotional reactions, so we can make these patterns conscious to ourselves when they are happening. This then allows us to make calmer, healthier choices if needed.

Many of our patterns grow out of the fight, flight or freeze responses embedded in the more ancient parts of our brain. And none of these are necessarily bad. Any of them might have been quite useful depending upon what predator or other threat our ancestors might have encountered. It is when we are not aware of them that they can be the wrong choice for the situation.

So if you’re one of those folks that has been engaging in the constant political resistance I was discussing earlier and your are feeling stressed out and in need of taking flight from it all for a little while. If you’re feeling the urge to escape by, as our choir sang earlier, wanting to rock and roll all night and party everyday (metaphorically speaking, of course), that’s OK, at least for a while! Just make it your conscious choice and know it may not be the healthiest thing for you as a way of life.

One of the things that our unconscious fight, flight and freeze responses can do is disguise anxiety as a different emotion. Identifying what that is for you can be very helpful.

How does anxiety show up for you? For some of us, it may be the classic fear response – a tightness in the chest, elevated heart rate, rapid breathing, an urge for flight. For others, it may show up as anger – an urge to fight. Yet others as a numbness, an inability to feel, which can be incapacitating – like being stuck or frozen.

Family systems theory says that we also translate these unconscious patterns into ways of interacting with each other within our family or church system that once again are largely outside of our awareness.

The three major styles include, 1. conflict. We fight – we argue, blame and criticize others. 2. distance, where we emotionally take flight – we distance ourselves from others and avoid uncomfortable yet important topics. And finally, fusion, a freeze response in which people get stuck in patterns where some people in a system over-function, taking on most of the responsibilities, decisions and activities required to maintain the system, while other folks under-function, abdicating these responsibilities.

By knowing ourselves and our patterns, we can interrupt anxiety and our unconscious responses to it.

Finally, I want to close by inviting you in these stressful times, to inoculate yourself against anxiety and give yourself a way to lower it when it does come, by finding one or more spiritual practices that work for you.

Now, the very term “spiritual practice” can cause anxiety sometimes because we think it necessarily has to be religious or onerous like – something like extended meditation every day or lengthy journaling.

It doesn’t have to be though. It can be anything from walks in nature to photography to knitting to gardening to cooking to singing, dancing, making music to writing to creating art to taking moments to cuddle with our loves ones, be they human or of the four legged furry variety. Humor and play can help a lot too.

Whatever is calming for you. Whatever brings you back to center and that you can commit to doing on a regular schedule.

A spiritual practice can be quite simple and yet quite effective. Sometimes if I am having a long or difficult day during the week here at church, I come in here. I sit sit alone in this sanctuary for just a few moments and feel the echoes of the sacred things that happen when we worship together in this space each Sunday.

And my breathing slows. And my thoughts stop racing.

And my emotions find calmness. And my heart begins to soar.

And I am able to know again that which I hold most important. I experience again that which is larger than me but of which I am part.

That which is sacred washes over me again in that quiet stillness.

Where do you find that stillness? What brings you that calm? What slows your breathing even as your heart soars?

My friends, stress and anxiety do not survive our encounters with the sacred.

Amen

Benediction

Now, as we go out into our world;
May the covenant that binds us together dwell in your heart and nourish your days,
May the mission that we share inspire your thoughts and light your way,
May the spirit of this beloved community go with you until next we are gathered again.
May the congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed Be”.
Go in peace.

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.

The Richness of Diversity

Rev. Chris Jimmerson & Laine Young
May 28, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

For flower communion each person brings some flowers to church, and we enjoy them collected all together, recalling the beauty in our own diversity.


Reading

An Eye for Miracles
Diego Valeri

You who have an eye for miracles
regard the bud
now appearing on the bare branch
of the fragile young tree.

It’s a mere dot,
a nothing.
But already
it’s a flower,
already a fruit,
already its own death and resurrection.

Chris Jimmerson’s Homily

Each year around this time, many of our Unitarian Universalist churches engage in a ritual ceremony we call the “Flower Communion”. In just a few minutes, Laine will tell us about the history of our Flower Communion and lead us through our trading of flowers ritual itself.

But why has this ceremony become such a well-loved annual tradition? What larger truths does this enduring ritual allow us to embody together?

As I look out over the flowers we have arranged up front here, as well as those you still hold, I find striking the diverse beauty of the individual blooms. Somehow, the individual radiance of each one of them is magnified by both its unity and contrast with the other flowers.

Also though, gathered together, they form a bouquet that is its own new form of beauty, different than that of any of the separate, individual flowers.

That’s quite a metaphor for what happens when we gather in community, each of us bringing our individual talents, abilities, challenges and blessings for our world and one another – each of us bringing our own perspectives and desires.

And at our best, just like we do when we exchange flowers in the flower communion, we trade at least something of these magnificent expressions of our individual selves. At our best, each of us goes home with something new and beautiful, some broadened perspective because of our encounters with one another.

At our very best, we form a radiant bouquet that is greater than the sum of its individual elements. Together, our individual flowerings are amplified so that we are far better able to nourish souls, transform lives and do justice.

I think that within this metaphor dwells what has been a historical, theological challenge for Unitarian Universalists.

On the one hand, we arise from an ancestry with a strong inclination toward individualism – the heretics who have again and again questioned dogma and called for the freedom and right of conscious of the individual.

We are the products of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”, Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “Self-Reliance”, Henry David Thoreau’s “Civil Disobedience”.

Yet, our history also includes the legacy of the Universalists, who valued a religious community of all souls and believed in the universal salvation of all people.

Likewise, our Unitarian ancestry has given us our covenantal way of being together. We make a promise as a religious community to walk together in the ways of love.

And we have tended to view this instinct toward individualism (and sometimes radical individualism) and our inclination for forming deep religious community as standing in linear opposition to one another.

From this perspective, we have had to try to balance the rights and inherent worth of each individual with our desire to create strong and institutionally sustainable communities. We have seen it as either/or rather than both/and.

That is understandable given a long human history in which in which community norms and biases have so often stifled and oppressed individual expression and flourishing.

I think what the Flower Communion helps us to better understand though, is that this linear duality between individuality and community does not necessarily exist. The interplay between each of us as individuals and the larger community we wish create can be far more complex and multidimensional.

Like when we gather our flowers together, we can create communities that value our differences and see them as what fuels the richness and fullness of the community as a whole.

We can create communities wherein each of us can radiate our own beauty by locating ourselves in both solidarity and loving contrast with one another.

Our flower ritual reminds us and helps us to more deeply grasp that rather than having to be in opposition to one another, individuality and communalism can exist together in harmony.

And that truly is communion.


Laine Young’s Homily

In the city of Prague, in the land of Czechoslovakia, in the year nineteen twenty three, there was a church. But the building did not look much like a church. It had no bells, no spires, no stained glass windows. It had no piano to make beautiful music. It had no candles or chalices. It had no flowers.

The church did have some things. It had four walls and a ceiling and a floor. It had a door and a few windows. It had some wooden chairs. But that was all, plain and simple.

Except… the church also had people who came to it every Sunday. It had a minister, and his name was Norbert Capek. He had been the minister at the plain and simple church for two years. Every Sunday, Minister Capek went to church, and he spoke to the people while they listened, sitting quietly and still in those hard wooden chairs. When he was done speaking, the people talked a little bit among themselves, and then they went home. And that was all-no music, no candles, no food. There was no coffee, bagels, not even breakfast tacos.

Springtime came to the city of Prague and Norbert Capek went out for a stroll. The rains had come, the birds were singing, and flowers were blooming all over the land. The world was beautiful. Then an idea came to him, simple and clear, plain as day. The next Sunday, he asked all the people in the church to bring a flower, or a budding branch, or even a twig. Each person was to bring one.

“What kind?” they asked. “What color? What size?”

“You choose,” he said. “Each of you choose what you like.”

And so, on the next Sunday, which was also the first day of summer, the people came with flowers of all different colors and sizes and kinds. There were yellow daisies and red roses. There were white lilies and blue asters, dark-eyed pansies and light green leaves. Pink and purple, orange and gold-there were all those colors and more. Flowers filled all the vases, and the church wasn’t so plain and simple anymore.

Minister Capek spoke to the people while they listened, sitting quiet and still in those hard wooden chairs. “These flowers are like ourselves,” he said. “Different colors and different shapes, and different sizes, each needing different kinds of care-but each beautiful, each important and special, in its own way.”

When he was done speaking, the people talked a little bit among themselves, and then they each chose a different flower from the vases before they went home. And that was all-and it was beautiful, plain and simple as the day.

It is now time for us to share in our own Flower Communion. I ask that as you each approach the communion vases, 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.

Once you bring your flower up, select a different flower to take with you. One that particularly speaks 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.

Norbert Capek started this ritual to celebrate the beauty of our faith and the people in it. Remembering that the sounds of children are a part of the quiet, let us now share quietly in this Unitarian Universalist ritual of oneness, community, and love.

Benediction

And so go forth into our world, holding tangible representations of the beauty we have shared with one another.

And so go forth, knowing we carry the richness and fullness of this religious community with us.

May the congregation say, “Amen” and, “blessed be”.

Go with love. Go in peace.


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.

 

The Power of Presence

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
May 21, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Sometimes what helps the most is simply being a calm, compassionate presence in the lives of those we care about.


Several years ago, I was volunteering with a non-profit organization that assists the elderly and the disabled. Part of what I did was to visit with an elderly African American woman who was confined to Austin State hospital because she had end stage kidney failure and progressive dementia, and she didn’t have the resources for private care. She had survived incredible challenges and outright racial oppression during a long life in New Orleans, ending up in Austin because of hurricane Katrina.

When I would go to see her, I knew that the brokenness wasn’t going to get fixed. She wasn’t going to get better. Her present and her future were defined by uncertainty.

And so often, when I would visit her, all that could be done for her had already been done and everything that we needed to say to each other, we’d already said, and the only comfort I could provide was just to sit with her, just to be together, in the silence.

And every once in a while, she would suddenly look at me with this fire in her eyes and a slight grin on her face, and the quite strength and loving character that were her essence would shine through the dementia.

And I feel so fortunate to have gotten to hold at least some small part of her story.

It was also a challenging and very uncertain time for me for a number of reasons. I only later realized that those visits had become a time of calmness, love and a paradoxical sense of stability for me.

What I came to realize, is that the really transformative presence in those visits was her. I was blessed so much more than I could ever give to her.

My heart broke a little each time, yet with each break it seemed to expand a little, and the capacity for love grew – my ability to embrace uncertainty and yet get into the present moment expanded.

This morning we are missing a calm and compassionate presence among us. Our senior minister, Rev. Meg Barnhouse, as I mentioned earlier, has had to go on sabbatical so that she can heal from an infection that developed after surgery on her hip implant.

If you are visiting with us for the first time or started visiting only recently and have not yet gotten to experience what Meg is like – I can tell you that she exudes this presence that is filled with calmness and kindness.

So, understandably, knowing what Meg is going through and being without our spiritual leader’ s presence for a while can be worrisome and upsetting for folks. I want you to know that it is absolutely normal if, as an active participant in this religious community, you are experiencing feelings of worry or stress or even a sense of loss.

When something like this happens, it destroys our illusion of certainty. We are reminded that despite our best-laid plans and our comforting routines, we do not have complete control over the events of our lives.

Now, I don’t mean that we shouldn’t plan or that there is no value in our routines, just that we have to stop sometimes and realize that our future, indeed even the next moment, is uncertain for each of us. Our agency lies, not in having complete control over the events of our lives but in how we respond to those events.

By embracing that uncertainty, we can be better able to adapt our plans and adjust our routines when the “inevitable unexpected” erupts in our lives.

In fact a religious worldview known as process theology sees in uncertainty a divine process that contains all of the creative complexity that drives the continuous unfolding of our universe. Through this very uncertainty, this divine process also offers up to each of us the creative possibilities from which we may choose in each moment of our own, continuously unfolding lives.

From this point of view, getting intentional about embracing uncertainty and fully living each present moment becomes a spiritual practice. I think that, though no one would wish to have to go through such an extended recovery, by choosing to take the time she needs to fully heal, by accepting the choices before her and making the best choice she could from among them, Meg has modeled this very spiritual practice for us.

Now, when I first started making those visits to my friend in the state hospital that I told you about earlier, one of the first challenges I encountered is that I wanted to be able do something to help her. That’s also a natural human response to such a situation. It is natural to want to do something for people we care about when they are in need. I suspect also though, that getting busy doing something can be another way we try to establish a veneer of control when faced with uncertainty. I know it is for me personally.

And yet, as I mentioned, really all that could be done for her was already being done, so all that I could really do was to be with her – to be present in a calm and cOlnpassionate way. And to do that, I had to love her. I had to open my heart and allow it to risk being broken.

Though Meg’s situation is quite different and much brighter in the long run, still, I am feeling that tug – that need to get busy doing something. I am hearing that from some folks here in the church too, and again, that’s natural. At some point, Meg and Kiya may even let us know if there are things folks can do that are helpful. I know they have both already expressed that your words of support and encouragement in cards, email messages and on Facebook have lifted their spirits and given them fortitude.

It might not surprise you to ~ear that I think Meg holds the welfare of this church and its people in her thoughts and concerns more than anything else. Knowing that, one thing we can do is make it such that Meg knows that this church and its people will be all right during the time she has to be away – that we will take care of each other – that we will continue to support this church and live out its mission.

What if, starting today and throughout the weeks to come, we vowed to offer to each other that calm and compassionate presence with which Meg has continually blessed us? What if do our very best to offer that kindness and loving presence to each and every person who comes through our doors? What if we break our hearts wide open and do our very best to make being present for others like this a way of life?

Now, you might well be thinking, “Sounds great, Chris. How exactly do you propose we go about doing that?”

Great question.

And the answer is, “I don’t entirely know.”

I don’t entirely know because even though I spent a lot of time in seminary spent a lot of time discerning how to show up as that calm, loving presence I hope to be, sometimes I do, but sometimes I fail. I make mistakes. My own anxieties and emotions distract me sometimes. I am imperfect at it. I’m not as good at it as Meg is.

Sometimes I remember to be aware of what kind of presence I am embodying in the check out line at the grocery store, but sometimes I am in a hurry, and I’m distracted and I’m thinking about all of the rest of the things I need to get done that day. And so sometimes even though I may exchange pleasantries with the cashier, I never really make any human connection at all. I just rush through, absorbed by own preoccupations, failing to acknowledge their humanity.

I wonder how often we do the very same thing even with our families and loved ones.

Here is some of what I do know.

I know that we start by simply trying. We start by getting intentional about it. We think back on what happened in that check out line and vow to be lTIOre present the next time. We count to ten or take several deep breaths or do whatever works for us and helps us take a step back when we find ourselves feeling something less than calm and kind in reaction to what our friend at church just said. By that way, that taking a step back works a whole lot better if we do it BEFORE we respond to our friend.

Likewise, we re-read that email message or Facebook post that we have filled with the opposite of loving-kindness before we hit “send” or “post”. Maybe we even delete it and instead just send a message that says, “Hey, could I get together with you soon and talk about this?” I fear that internet communications can turn us into relational cowards, because we can send them from afar and thereby avoid the difficult conversations we need to be having with each other. We don’t have to present with each other and so it is far easier to not be calm or compassionate.

Here is another thing I know. I know that we have to start with ourselves, which can sometimes be the hardest. We start by directing that sense of calmness and compassion to ourselves – our whole selves, warts and imperfections and all. We forgive ourselves when we make mistakes and are not as kind as we aspire to be. We start over again and again, knowing that we can never be present for others in the way that we want to be until we are present first for ourselves in that same loving and kind way.

Part of how we do that is to take care of ourselves physically, emotionally and spiritually. And these take practices and discipline. For me, learning to take better care of myself physically has made a huge difference. When I feel good physically, my emotions and my spirit are lifted also.

Now, here’s the really challenging part. To truly be that calm and compassionate presence in our world, we have to take risks. We have to be vulnerable. We have to love, and when we know love we will also inevitably know loss.

We have to embrace that uncertainty that I was talking about earlier and know that we must love others even when they may not always respond in kind. We must forgive, knowing that perhaps they are just having a terrible time of things and it may well be us having the really bad day and falling short the next time.

We have to know that we will mistakes. We will fail, and so we must learn to forgive ourselves and each other and pick ourselves back up and dust ourselves off and re-center our hearts in that place of compassion and start over again and again, learning what we can each time.

We have to risk our hearts being broken so that they can break wide open and love with a great fierceness.

This is how we offer each other calm and loving presence. Imperfectly, forgivingly, determinedly.

This is how we help each other live the most richly and most fully.

This is how we can feel as if we get to live many lives in the one precious life we have been given.

And the good news is, we have this church, this beloved community, where can practice all of this with each other . We can follow Meg’s example and show up for each other in the ways of kindness, calmness and compassion. We can practice forgiving ourselves and one another when we fall short and practice bringing ourselves back into right relationship if it happens.

And having practiced this loving-kindness, this calm, compassionate presence together, we can become better able to take it out into our daily lives and our world – a world that needs it pretty badly about now.

Our lives are filled with uncertainty, so let us practice living and loving fully in the moment, beginning now, in this time and in this place.

I invite you to rise in body or spirit and, as you are comfortable with it to take the hand of those on each side of you. You can stretch across aisle ways if you wish.

And feeling one another’s touch, feeling the loving presence of those in this hallowed space today, I invite you to repeat after me.

On this day and in this place, we vow to walk in the ways of love together.

We make a promise to be present for one another.

To practice together the ways of calm and compassionate presence. To forgive and to be forgiven.

To begin again and again in the days and weeks to come.

For in so doing, we create this the beloved religious community together.

In so doing, we bring healing and transformation to ourselves and to our world.

And that’s a good thing.

Amen and blessed be.


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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 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.

 

To nourish souls

Susan Yarbrough
May 14, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

As I say goodbye on Mother’s Day, I’ll describe how you nourished my soul, thank you for teaching me how to do it for others, and reflect how we all can be nourishers of souls, regardless of whether we are parents.


Call to Worship

Our call to worship this morning is written by American poet John Fox, an amputee whose early suffering has led him to a lifetime of developing the field of poetic medicine, which he teaches in medical schools around the world. Here are his words:

When Someone Deeply Listens to You
John Fox

When someone deeply listens to you,
it is like holding out a dented cup
you’ve had since childhood
and watching it fill up with
cold, fresh water.
When it balances on the brim,
you are understood.
When it overflows and touches your skin,
you are loved.

When someone deeply listen to you,
the room where you stay
starts a new life,
and the place where you wrote your first poem
begins to glow in your mind’s eye.
It is as if gold had been discovered!

When someone deeply listens to you,
your bare feet are on the earth,
and a beloved land that seemed distant
is now at home within you.

Reading

From an Australian woman who goes by the name Brooke and writes a blog called “Slow Your Home”.

You know that your soul has been nourished when you have a feeling of contentment and fullness because someone has handed you something that will sustain you for days.


Text of the sermon is not available. Click the play button to listen.

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.

 

Growth

Senior High School Youth Group
May 7, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

The Senior High Youth Group provide their reflections on growth and what it means to grow up.


Welcome: Julia Heilrayne

Chalice Lighting: Marah Moers, Ava Gorecki

Call to Worship: “Glory Days” (Olivia), read by Rae Milstead

Affirming our Mission; Paige Neemidge

Story of all ages: “Four little seeds” Shanti Cornell

The Kinds of People
by Kate Hirschfeld

Let’s go back. To when the days were counted not in numbers but by discoveries. Small fingers outstretched to the sky, trying to get a grasp on this world, one experience at a time. Asking questions without answers Your favorite word was always “why.” “Why” Punctuated with intensely curious eyes, Your head cocked slightly to the side, Expecting a response even when there wasn’t one to give. Minds full of fairy dust Wide eyes of wanderlust Never knowing what life had in store for us.

Back to when you had perpetually paint-stained hands, Dirt under fingernails, Hair tangled by the wind, Mud stains on your new dress.

Don’t tell mom but you always liked it better like that anyway. Said it reminded you of chocolate milk. And everyone knows, there’s nothing on this earth better than chocolate milk.

Back to when we gazed at the stars so long our eyes themselves began to twinkle. We took to staring contests during the day to share our galaxies. We woke up early to watch the sun paint the sky like a canvas. Pink stained clouds never ceased to take our breath away.

Call us crazy, but thought it beat Cartoon Network any day. We stayed up past our bedtimes to wave the moon goodnight. We searched the sky for the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt. They were the only constellations we knew, But the way our eyes lit up when we saw them, Made them the only ones we needed.

Back to when wonder was our only motive. We dived in head first not because we had courage, But because we didn’t know to be scared yet.

Back to when we rolled the windows down just to taste the wind without fear of ruining our hair. And daydreaming was a common pastime not a waste of it. When we were more than just people, We were heroes and pirates and wizards and royalty. We soared through stormclouds and danced with dandelions. Our heartbeat was the only music we ever needed. And every raindrop was proof that magic really did exist. Bedtime stories didn’t seem so far off.

What happened between then and now? How did magic become merely a device for Disney to make a profit. And four-leaf clovers became so rare we stopped even bothering to look. We stay up late but keep the curtains closed from the cosmos. They say money can’t buy happiness but it’s starting to replace it. We shy away from opportunity because we finally learned what fear was. Our dresses remain clean and we don’t drink chocolate milk We close our fists and turn our eyes from the skies. We don’t have time for staring contests so our galaxies flicker and dim. Your favorite word became “Because.”

Except, for a few. Some people never stopped daydreaming They still wish on dandelions though some may call them childish. And wander forests in their free time because their curiosity surpasses their fears. They love for the sake of loving, their joy does not need justification. Most of all, they still ask questions.

Change is the Only Constant
by Julia Heilrayne

Change is all around us, all the time. It is what we live and breathe. As a science nerd, I love the saying “change is the only constant” because well, that’s the truth. Change is scary. I’ll admit that, but without it, progress and growth would be impossible. Change and growth are the driving forces in life — pushing us forward to the next discovery, the crucial part of history, the next step in our own lives. Without change, people would never grow, plants would never blossom, and none of us would be where we are today.

In my 15 years, change has been one of the best and worst things to happen to me. It has saved my life, and made it infinitely harder. Change has let me breathe again, while at the same time, it has taken my breath away and refused to give it back. But most of all, I have learned to love and appreciate the constant state of change in the world because without it, I have no idea where or who I would be today.

When I was in sixth grade, change took over my life. Just after the second semester had started, my parents told me I was switching schools. This news was wel- comed with tears, excitement, and relief but most of all, fear. I had been having problems at school for a little while, fighting back against a system that no longer worked for me, and fighting back against a teacher who no longer taught me. Even though I was glad to get away from that school and get another go at this whole learn- ing thing, I had never known any different than my little tiny private school and that scared me more than I can explain. So in February of sixth grade, I was abruptly pulled from the school that I had at- tended for eight and a half years, ripping me apart from my friends and much of my identity at the time.

To me, switching schools mid-year felt like being thrown into the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of a storm. I was alone, scared, and more vulnerable than I have ever been. As I was tossed around in the stormy waters of public school, otherwise known as STAAR tests and cafeterias, I struggled to swim, or even keep my head above the water. For those of you who don’t know me, I like to win. I like to be the best at everything I do. So as I watched the other kids, most of whom had been in public school for their entire lives, navigate this world with ease, I felt like a failure. I saw the other students around me, excelling at school and at sports, swimming through life gracefully, as I struggled to find my next class.

Eventually though, I memorized my schedule and I stopped getting lost on my way to classes. I found my group of friends, and I stopped feeling lonely all the time. But best of all, my mind moved on from my old school. Although I will never forget the experi- ences I had there, both good and bad, I don’t think about it as often as I used to. In sixth grade, I realized that my new school, friends, and teachers, had been my saving grace and exactly what I needed. It wasn’t until seventh grade when I accepted the change that had turned my life upside down and shaken it around a few times, and at that point, I started to really love what had become of all the shaking.

My new school gave me confidence I never knew I had. My friends taught me how to laugh like I hadn’t laughed in a long time. And my teachers taught me how to breathe, and how to live again.

If you ask anyone who knew me when I was a student at my old school and who knows me now, they will undoubtedly agree when I say that I am a completely different person. Although switching schools was one of the most painful things I’ve ever been through, if I was in the same situation now, I wouldn’t do anything differently. Public school gave me my life back, and led me to my best friends, my mentors and my teachers. My experiences forced me to fall back to the amazing support system I have in the UU world. My closest friends, some of who sit behind me and some of who live 4 or 5 hours away, exist in my life only because of this church and my other UU communities.

Today, I am a freshman at Austin High School. Today I am part of the Academy for Global Studies, and today I am one of the top students in the Biomedical Science program. Today I am 100% positive that I want to go into the medical field and today, I am 100% positive that I want to work with chil- dren as part of my job. But I would not be any or know any of this today, had it not been for the immense change that swept through my life yesterday.

Change has been and will continue to be the only constant in my life, and in yours. It is the force that keeps us going, and refuses to forget anyone. Change is the reason we grow, adapt, and adjust to our world in the best pos- sible way. Drastic, painful change is the reason that most of my closest friends are my closest friends. Change has forced me to grow into the person I am today, and I could not be happier.

Although it can be scary, change is necessary. It causes growth, and allows us to live. So I ask you, embrace change, and learn to love it for all it has to offer.

Growing Up a Human is a Lot Like a Tomato Plant I Once Had
by Everly Rae Milstead

A few years ago, my family decided to have our very own garden in our backyard. We grew things like squash and tomatoes and peppers. We would harvest them and I would proudly bring my harvested tomatoes to school and give them to my teachers. I would go on long speeches about how much we had to do to get this one handful of toma- toes. It was my own take on trying to be the teacher’s pet. Now we fast forward a few years and our little home garden is pretty much a heap of dirt that has grass growing on it. I plan to eventually get myself out there again and get my garden back up and running, keyword being eventually. Now the real reason for why I am telling you a story about a little home garden, besides that it goes so comedically well with the theme of this service, is that I hadn’t realized how much my life related to this tiny garden. Just like this garden falling apart, my life fell apart. Along with dealing with the normal hormonal roller coaster that is teenage-hood, I also had my family life completely turned over in front of me. There were so many nights that I cried myself to sleep wondering what I had done or what my family members had done to deserve any of what was going on. I watched a sibling who was the strongest person I knew fall defeated to none other than themselves. I watched my mom have to handle things that no mother deserves to go through. I watched my happy, sunflowery self become wilted and sad. My seventeen-year-old self was an abandoned garden.

But the thing is, throughout the years this garden was left unattended, a toma- to plant was able to persevere through it. This tomato plant made it through the Austin droughts and the floods and the freezes and heat waves that sometimes happened in the same week, because we live in Austin and that’s what Austin does. This little tomato plant once pro- duced juicy tomatoes during the early summers and now it produces a meta- phor for my life. Like this tomato plant, I dealt with my own winter freeze. My winter freeze took shape as depression and feeling lonely and cold. This tomato and I went through our roots, what kept us stable, getting frozen and our happy bright leaves falling off. Like this tomato plant, I went through a drought. My drought was the feeling like I just may not make it to the finish line or the next cycle of seasons. The little tomato plant wasn’t able to see whether or not it would make it just like I did. Life is rough, but like this little tomato plant, I have shown the grit to get through it no matter the circumstance.

I feel as if everyone is a plant in their own way. My mother has been a giant tree with roots that go so deep into the Earth that I know I am safe to lean on her. My siblings and I grew apart as we grew up, just as plants need space in order to live. We all made it, just as that tomato plant did.

While my life is still going on, I have realized that I don’t have to grow on my own. Just like plants have bees, ladybugs, and spiders, and many other critters to help them grow, I have friends, mentors, and this church to help me on my pathway of life. I have skills like making sure I get myself in a safe place before my life enters a hard freeze, just like we put hooped covers over plants to protect them from the cold. Life is going to keep going, whether I like it or not, and plants are still going to need to be tended to, just as my life will need assistance at times. As I plant more tomato plants, I will always think of that tiny tomato plant that seemingly made it through everything I could imagine. I will think of it the next time my life hits another drought or flood.

Change: Never Wanted, Always Needed
by Abby Poirer

Life is all about change-it’s commonplace and a vital part of the way we live. Change is scary, many people dislike it, but the thing is, if none of us ever changed, if none of us ever grew, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I wouldn’t be where I am today. You wouldn’t be where you are today.

Without change, without growth, I would be stuck. Stuck in a mind- set that rendered me incapable of learning. Stuck between a rock and a hard place simply because I refused to find another way. I don’t want to be stuck — I want to do things, discover things, change things. Even though it’s scary.

When I was between the ages of 11 and 14 I stared down the barrel of many a change. In the fifth grade my parents told me they were going to take me out of public school and enroll me in online school with some others for my sixth grade year. Part of me was excited, part of me was sad, and the other part of me, the biggest part of me, was terrified of everything that was about to change.

I was only 11, I didn’t have a say, and I didn’t really try to argue too much about it. I bought my uniform, I learned how to use the program, and I walked into my new “school” with a bunch of other kids my age that were even more scared than I was. I quickly became close to all of them and we remain friends to this day (one of them is even on the verge of graduating now), but still, it was terrifying to lose everything I was accustomed to in the public school system.

After two years of using on- line school, after I’d mastered the software and the format, after I’d made lifelong friends, after I loved where I was at this point in time, we disbanded. I had to start over again. I had to change everything. Again. I bought the new uniform I needed for this new school, went to my ori- entation, then walked in and became friends with the first girl I noticed smile at me. She welcomed me to her group, and the amount of relief that I felt when they later called me their friend made everything okay. It made all the changes I’d endured okay. Sadly, she and I stopped be- ing friends after about six months, which still hurts me to this day, but without that horrible, awful change, I wouldn’t have gotten even closer with another girl, who became my best friend, to whom I also remain very close.

As scary as it was, as much as it hurt, it was definitely worth it. I’d never had a friendship abruptly end before, and then all of a sud- den I had. She and I slowly became friendly again but we never got back to being actual friends, never got back to being close. On the last day of school, an enormous group of us wanted to take what we called our “family photo” and the girl I was no longer friends with was a part of it. We all huddled together, snapped the picture, and then, going our separate ways, we all started heading to our cars to go home for the summer.

But then I heard my name called in a voice that hadn’t been spoken to me in months. I turned around and there she was: hopeful. Welcoming. Changed. She opened her arms for a hug and we both pulled each other in oh-so-tightly as if to make up for all the lost time. But what has stuck with me ever since is what she whis- pered in my ear between each of our sobs: “thank you.” I couldn’t believe what I’d heard, I said “for what?” Her response? “For everything.” Even though we weren’t friends anymore, even though we still aren’t, even though it took every bit of courage she could muster to say those two words “thank you,” even though neither of us could ever ad- mit, until now, that our experience allowed us to grow. Not only apart, but within ourselves. The old her never would have been able to utter those words, but she wasn’t “the old her” anymore, she was the bigger person. She allowed the experience to change her, as did I.

In the beginning, this whole issue kind of drowned me. It hurt so bad and I was gasping for air but there was nothing. So badly I wanted to make up, but I wanted to maintain my pride and keep saying I was right even more. I kept gasping, hoping to rescue this friendship, this person, but eventually, as you do, I ran out of air. A part of me died, I was devastated that we had both given up on each other, on ourselves. But this allowed me to approach my new school, yes another one, with no guilt, nothing holding me back, and nothing to weigh me down.

There’s a stigma around growing up, around aging, becoming an adolescent, then later an adult, even just matur- ing, because it means you’re not a kid, it means you are about to enter the world with all your rights and all your freedoms and the world is now yours to experience and no one can control you and it’s scary. But the thing I’ve learned as I’ve grown up, all these 16 years: growing up is freeing. Sure it’s scary, change is scary, new is scary, different is scary, the unknown is scary, every- thing in the world is scary. But growth as people is the only thing that can save us from a numbingly monotonous life where the only real growth is your height. I’m not scared. I’m not scared to be a better person. I’m not scared to become more understanding. I’m not scared to grow. I’m only scared to stay the same forever. I want to grow. I want to change. Every day is a learning oppor- tunity, how could I fear that? Growth is what the world is made of. We can all grow, because we are the world. The young, the old, the everywhere-in-betweens, we can all grow. It’s what makes the world go round.

Bridging Ceremony


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.

 

Spring has sprung

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
April 30, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Spring Into Action 2017 will come to a close at the end of April. We spent the month exploring “welcoming,” what is looks like and why it matters. Rev. Chris Jimmerson is joined by the Spring into Action team panel; Scott Butki, Wendy Erisman, Tomas Medina, Joe Milam-Kast, and Peggy Morton.


Text of this sermon is not available. Click the play button to listen.

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.

 

Truth, Crushed to Earth, Shall Rise Again

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 16, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

The spiral, one of the most ancient of human symbols, indicates a path which travels to the center and then back out again.


Call to Worship

“Life again”
by John Banister Tabb

“Out of the dusk a shadow
Then, a spark.
Out of the cloud a silence,
Then, a lark.
Out of the heart a rapture,
Then, a pain.
Out of the dead cold ashes,
life again.”

Reading

exerpt from The Painted Drum
by Louise Erdrich

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.

Sermon

Happy Easter Sunday! I told a dear church member this week that I was planning to talk about Jesus this Sunday. ”I’m not coming, then,” she said. “Been there, done that!” I told her I’d been here six years now and had preached five Easter sermons without telling the Christian faith-story, and that it was time. Some among you are going to have a sinking feeling, hearing this. I ask for your trust. I’m not going to suddenly tell you what you need to believe and I’m going to remind you up front that we don’t believe in a supernatural place called hell.

Some of you may wonder why I’m being so careful, hedging the beginning of this telling with so many reassurances. Others, easily triggered by any talk of Rabbi Jesus, will wonder why I just don’t preach about something else for a sixth year.

As I’ve said before, the way I approach faith stories of all religions is the same way I would approach a dream. Whether from the Hindu Upanishads, the Buddhist Sutras, or the Jewish or Christian Scriptures, faith stories often express a truth from the deep ocean of gathered human wisdom. Carl Jung would have called it the “collective unconscious.” When I was studying Jung at Duke, in seminary, with my Aunt Ruth, who was a Jungian psychiatrist, and then later with Polly Telford, a retired Zurich-trained Jungian analyst living in the hills of Appalachia, I was asked to picture the Collective Unconscious as a great sea, and our individual consciousness as an island in that sea. The deep truths wash up on the shore, or seep up through the ground and show up in a culture’s folk tales and fairy stories. They also come up in a culture’s faith stories. Some adherents to some religions insist that the stories are historical, in the way that a reporter would write about what is happening. We know that even history is not historical, but is written with a point of view, with an agenda, and that many important things are left out by those with the power of print and publishing.

So we have the very true (but probably not historical) story of Rabbi Jesus, who serves Western culture, Jung said, as a symbol of the Self. Deeper than the Ego, the Self is your Soul place, the place where you are most who you are, your Inner Wisdom. For this element of Jesus, the syllables by which the Roman culture made his actual name Jeshua easier to pronounce, for this deep more eternal element of who he is in the faith story, Christians use the word “Christ.” Jeshua was his name, and the Christ is his role.

The story of this past week is that the Teacher knew he was in trouble with the authorities, both Roman and religious. He had said things that made people think unsafe thoughts toward both kinds of authority. Even though he was in trouble, he rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. This disappointed many of his fans, because they thought he was going to ride in on a horse like a military conqueror to sweep out the Roman occupation forces who had made a colony of their country most people prefer a satisfying show of force to dealing with things in a more radical way, “radical” meaning getting at the root of the problem. He gathered with his disciples for a meal and then went out into the garden. One of his disciples had sold him out, told the authorities where to come pick him up. They put him on trial, and the puppet ruler, Pontius Pilate, under pressure to keep peace by appeasing all the factions that were upset, turned him over to the soldiers who beat him, made him carry his own cross, the instrument of his execution, to the place made to carry it by the soldiers. Pressed into service rather than volunteering. Catholic church tradition, not the Bible, says that a woman named Veronica came out of the crowd and gave Jesus her veil to wipe his face. The soldiers of the Roman Supremacy system crucified him alongside two criminals, tormented and humiliated him for their amusement, and left him to die. He was buried in a tomb, a cave-like opening that was then sealed, probably with a rectangular stone, if it was like almost all of the other burial caves of that period. The story continues that, on the third day, two women who were his followers came to visit the grave and found the stone moved from blocking the entrance and the tomb empty. The stories continue by telling about people having mystical and/or physical experiences of him after the empty tomb was discovered.

We have an intense story of the journey of courage, of facing fear and death, abandonment and debasement. The journey in this faith story parallels the story of Innana’s descent into the underworld, where she is stripped of her finery, then her clothes, then hung on a hook for three days before she revives and returns to life. This is a Sumerian poem (modern day Iraq and Kuwait) from about 1600 BCE. The story of a divine being dying and rising again is told in many faith traditions, and many times the journey is represented by a spiral or a labyrinth. On one level it parallels the journey of a seed, which falls from a plant into the earth, is dormant until it is cracked open in the darkness and its new shoots find their way to the light and life. On another level it parallels a journey that most human lives take at least once, but more often in many small ways. We have all been through the experience of being stripped of what matters to us: a relationship, a job, a place, our health, our capacity, until it feels that there is nothing left. Marianne Williamson speaks of her nervous breakdown this way, saying that a nervous breakdown is a highly underrated way to reach enlightenment. Many of us have felt that what is important to us has been stripped away by the political and/or the religious authorities. Sometimes there are helpers, people who carry our burden with us because they are forced to by the same authorities stripping us of our powers, and some are volunteers who could be safe but choose to emerge with a touch of sympathy or compassion.

The point of the story is not what “churchianity” makes it, that an angry God killed his own son for sinful humanity. That is child abuse, and we know that. We are not better parents than God.

The point I would take from it is that if you are a disruptor of the system that benefits the powers that be, they will try to kill you, and sometimes they will succeed. That is the reason he died. The deeper point is that love knows that life will break you, and that the Great Love doesn’t stand apart from us, looking at us in pity, but joins us in brokenness. The Easter part of the message is that Great Love then brings life from the brokenness, and leads us again toward the light, toward life. Over and over again.


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.

 

Thinking like a mountain

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
April 9, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Humans are bound by limited perspectives, which can sometimes lead to faulty decisions when we lack the larger, longer-term view. How do we find that view?


Call to Worship

Visions
by Chris Jimmerson

We gather to see more — our individual perspectives expanded by placing them together in worship of that which is larger than us but of which we are a part.

We celebrate our differences, holding them up as the blessings we give to one another.

We gather to know more, to feel more, to experience more than that which each of us may know, feel and experience in solitude.

We gather to sing. We gather to raise our spirits to higher elevations. We gather to gain a collective vision of love and justice fulfilled.

We gather to worship together.

Reading

exerpt from Thinking Like a Mountain
by Aida Leopold

A deep chesty bawl echoes from rimrock to rimrock, rolls down the mountain, and fades into the far blackness of the night. It is an outburst of wild defiant sorrow, and of contempt for all the adversities of the world. Every living thing (and perhaps many a dead one as well) pays heed to that call. To the deer it is a reminder of the way of all flesh, to the pine a forecast of midnight scuffles and of blood upon the snow, to the coyote a promise of gleanings to come, to the cowman a threat of red ink at the bank, to the hunter a challenge of fang against bullet. Yet behind these obvious and immediate hopes and fears there lies a deeper meaning, known only to the mountain itself. Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.

Sermon

In 1949, a little known University of Wisconsin professor named Aldo Leopold published what would come to be considered a masterpiece in the literature of environmentalism called, A Sand County Almanac; and Sketches Here and There, it contained a section he had titled, “Thinking Like a Mountain”, which opened with those haunting words describing the howling of wolves on a mountainside that Margaret read for us earlier.

In “Thinking Like a Mountain“, Leopold wrote about a shift in perspective he had experienced when as a young man, he and a friend came upon an old wolf and her pack of full-grown pups while hunting deer. They opened fire on the wolves, striking down the old wolf, while the rest of the pack escaped, one with a wounded leg.

Here are Leopold’s own words describing this shift in perspective.

“We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes – something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view”.

He goes on to describe how he witnessed mountainside after Mountainside where hunters had killed off the wolves, thinking it would result in better deer hunting, or ranchers had killed off the wolves thinking to protect their herds (or both). Instead, without the wolves, the deer and the cattle over-populated, destroying the foliage of the mountainside, wreaking havoc with the ecosystem and causing much of the deer and cattle population to die of starvation.

The wolves, though predators, had been a vital part of the ecosystem. In Leopold’s metaphor, the mountains knew this. They were tall enough to have this broader view and old enough to take a longer view.

This was the change in his perspective. He had gotten a glimpse of thinking like a mountain.

And this stepping back to try to get a broader, longer-term view of our actions and their potential consequences is certainly vital to our struggle to prevent the most devastating consequences to our environment from global climate change and other risks from human activities.

It is a crying shame then that our president and his top advisors are thinking like a molehill when it comes to environmental policy. Their shortsightedness and greed for immediate gain are imperiling our future and that of generations to come. It is but one area in which we must resist.

But, this trying at least from time to time to take a broader, longer-term view — this thinking like a mountain — I think is important not just in how we approach our environment, but is also an essential element of our overall personal, public and spiritual and religious lives.

In our personal lives, such a perspective shift can so often change the very course of our lives for the better. The examples are many — the person with a substance addiction who finally sees its broader impact on their life and the lives of their loved ones and seeks help; the sudden realization that a career choice has become misery-making and the subsequent investigation of possibilities that leads to a more life fulfilling choice; an experience of interconnectedness in nature, though meditation, religion or other sources that leads to a shift in values from those centered around individualism to those more centered on relationship with other people and our world.

These perspective shifts have happened many times in my own life. One was when my grandmother was dying slowly from congestive heart failure. My mother was taking care of her at my mom’s house. My grandmother had been in and out of the hospital and had said she did not want to go back to one anymore.

My grandmother was unhappy and perhaps even miserable. She was often confused and would wake in the middle of the night, sometimes walking around, weakly, and in danger of falling, often only partially clothed. My mom was on the verge of emotional and physical collapse from all of this.

I called my mom often, and one day when she picked up the phone I could tell she was crying. She said she was exhausted and had been in bed most of the day, except to check on my grandmother a few times.

As we talked, we began to see a larger perspective. We began to realize that we had been valuing length of life over quality of life. We saw that being in a place that was not her own, lacking in the familiar, was part of the confusion and unhappiness my grandmother had been experiencing. We reached a broader understanding that this was not what my grandmother wanted.

We stopped all but palliative treatment, brought in hospice to my grandmother’s own house and allowed her to live there, in dignity, for the rest of her life, which only lasted a few weeks. She was comfortable and even seemed happy in those last weeks. I visited with her several times, and though weak sometimes, she was once again, in those last weeks, the happy, loving person she had been her whole life.

I can honestly say that it was the gentlest death I have experienced, and I am so glad she did not have to spend her last days unhappy and confused. I am so glad we did not rob her or ourselves of those peaceful, loving final days.

In our metaphor, the mountain already knew all of this, of course. We had to climb it first to get the higher view. Life is like that sometimes, but if we can make the climb and think like a mountain, it can sometimes change our lives and even the lives of those we love for the better.

Now, this is important in our public life also. Taking the time to step back and try to gain a broader, longer-term perspective is more important than ever now, as we attempt to live out our values in the public and political arena. Faced, as we are with such a barrage of distortions and outright lies (or what the Trump administration calls “alternative facts”), it can be easy to get bogged down arguing with one individual Tweet or statement. With an onslaught of executive orders and proposed legislation, we can fall into being overwhelmed by battle after battle and lose sight of the dangerous, common ideological core that all of these these proposals represent.

The mountain sees the falsehoods as the distractions and attempts to misdirect they are intended to be. Them mountain sees the rooms filled with men making decisions about women’s health and rights. It sees the massive tax cuts for the wealthy that would be made possible by proposed legislation that would take healthcare away from millions and millions of people that just won’t seem to die. It sees profit being prioritized over sustaining life on our planet.

The mountain sees an administration full of white people taking aim at the rights of immigrants and people of color. It sees anti-LGBTQ bigot after anti-LGBTQ bigot in positions of power at the highest levels of our government.

The mountain sees these things and more. Because it sees this broader view, the mountain understands that we are up against an ideology of patriarchy, white supremacy and unbridled capitalist oligarchy, and that any of us who do not fit within that power structure are under threat if we refuse to stay in our proper place.

And because of this, the mountain knows we need each other.

The mountain sees that this is what we are up against, and we have to see it too if we are to have any hope of avoiding the fulfillment of such a dangerous, unjust ideology.

And then, once we see this, we also have to think like a mountain about how we might successfully resist it.

Fortunately, social science researchers such as Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan have done some of this wider, longer range thinking for us by studying which social movements in the past several decades have been the most successful.

They found that non-violent resistance is more effective than violence.

They also found that the most disparate movements have been the most successful movements.

I know we have sometimes wondered about this even in this church. Are we better to focus in on just a few social issues and target just them in order to concentrate our limited resources? Or, would we be better off with our folks working on a broad range of social justice issues, as long as enough folks have energy around anyone of them? Should we focus on tactics such as visiting, writing and calling governmental officials, donating to others already doing the work or on more grassroots protests and rallies?

Chenoweth and Stephan’s research make very clear that we are more likely to have success the more disparate our efforts, both in terms of topics and tactics. For instance, our immigration rights activism can inform and support our work for LGBTQ rights, or Women’s reproductive rights and visa versa. Each of these can combine and thereby amplify their efforts when needed. Likewise, we need tactics of both civil, political engagement and protests in the streets.

It is encouraging then that we are seeing exactly these disparate and wide ranging efforts develop in our church and in our larger society these days.

And here’s something cool — having these disparate social justice efforts can in fact help us to see more broadly, to think more like a mountain, and thereby become even more effective at doing justice, as well as live richer more fulfilling lives. They do so by engaging us with folks who may have very different perspectives than our own.

Many of us who are progressive but a part of the dominant culture in our society tend to reach a stage of development regarding how we interact with other races, ethnicities and cultures that is called minimization. We can see and value the many similarities that exist among human beings, but we cannot see or perhaps even resist or minimize the real differences that also exist among us.

And this limits our perspective. It keeps us from ever being able to see past our own life experiences.

Those of us who are white cannot know the life experiences of people of color living within a white dominated culture.

Straight folks cannot know the life experiences of lesbian, gay bisexual and queer people in a hetero-normative society.

Those of us who are male cannot know the life experiences of women living within a still patriarchal system.

Folks assigned a gender at birth that is congruent with how they see themselves cannot know the life experiences of transgender folks in a system that vastly favors gender conformity, which, by the way supports the patriarchy and serves as at least part of the support structure holding up racism and other forms of oppression.

Despite these and other differences though, we can value the perspectives these experiences bring, if we are willing to listen and do the work. We start by interacting with and valuing equally the people and their perspectives whose life experiences are different than our own. We start by refusing to give our own cultural perspective supremacy over another.

By learning to value difference, we can widen our own worldview and thereby become more effective at dismantling these very systems of racism and oppression. We can enrich our own lives and the lives of those with whom we interact.

I want to close by talking a little bit about the spiritual and religious dimensions of this thinking like a mountain.

Sometimes when we have our time of centering and breathing together here at the church or during other parts of our worship together, sometimes when I am out with a group of our folks working for justice, I will close my eyes and have this deep experience of interconnectedness with this religious community that I love and somehow through that with all of the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Within religious and spiritual contexts, these experiences may be called experiences of the holy, of transcendence or of God or the divine.

Some Buddhists and Hindus might call them nirvana, though they would ascribe different meanings to it.

Humanistic psychologist Abraham Maslow had a similar concept he called peak experiences. Other psychologists describe flow experIences.

Extreme sports enthusiasts will tell you that such altered mental states can be brought on by engaging in such sports.

Neurologists, psychologists and others have begun studying these altered states of consciousness more and more. They are discovering what is going within our brains and physiologically when we have such experIences.

They are also discovering that during these experiences we are actually thinking in a different way. We are making connections we do not ordinarily understand. We are experiencing transformations within our core values at a very deep level. We are grasping our universe and our place within it in ways that are much broader than our normal, day-to-day understanding.

Organizations ranging from Google to the Navy Seals are working on ways to help their people have such experiences more easily and more often, because these experiences, this wider, longer-term form of mental processing, seems to enhance creativity, increase productivity and strengthen team cohesion.

It seems that our deep, spiritual experiences, however we might label them, are helping us to gain a more timeless perspective from a much higher elevation, so the speak.

Perhaps this is one of the great purposes of church and religious community.

Together, we help one another cultivate and move into these types of experiences.

Together, we climb the mountain and our view, our perspective, expands.

And from the mountaintop, we glimpse the ancient truths the mountain has learned. We see a glimmer of the vistas the mountain looks out upon.

And knowing something of what the mountain knows, together, we are then better able to go out and change our lives and our world for the better.

This is our great purpose together. We gather in community together, we go up on the mountain together, so that we, together, are better able to nourish souls, transform lives and do justice.

Amen.

Benediction

As we go out into our world today, I wish you the blessing of that far-ranging vision — of vistas overseeing love and justice made real in your lives and in our world.

May the Congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed be.”

Go in peace.


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.

 

You have to be carefully taught

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 2, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

This sermon, a response to an invitation from our auction winner, is about welcome.


Text of this sermon is not available. Click the play button to listen.

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.

 

Adventures in Hymnody

Kiya Heartwood
March 26, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Ever wondered what those numbers are at the bottom of the page of the hymnals? Find out many things you never knew before.


Call to Worship
Martin Luther

The riches of music are so excellent and so precious that words fail me whenever I attempt to discuss and describe them …. In summa, next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world. It controls our thoughts, minds, hearts, and spirits.

Reading
Plato

Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.

Sermon

Have you ever really looked at your church’s hymnal? Have you ever wondered where those songs came from and why those particular songs were chosen? This article is a very brief history of some of the musicians and theologians determining those choices.

Early Christian music was based on Jewish and Byzantine religious chants, primarily focused on praise or “psalms” such as the 150 Psalms attributed to King David in the Old Testament. These were sung by priests or cantors and trained choirs that sang in unison, often in a call and response style without harmony or instrumental accompaniment.

“Plainsong” or “Gregorian Chant” is the music of the Catholic controlled Western world well into the Sixteenth century. Plainsong is “musical prayer” designed to unite the faithful in “devout thoughts” while the participants symbolically reenact the Last Supper and take Communion. Over time, the music of the Mass gets more elaborate and adds more instruments and harmony but the role of music in worship does not change until the Reformation.

As Saint Augustine writes in his Confessions” … the weaker mind may be stimulated to devout thoughts by the delights of the ear. Yet when I happen to be moved more by the singing than by what is sung. I confess to have Sinned grievously … ” This philosophy makes some music “spiritual” and other more “secular” (of the world or of the Devil.) All church music was in Latin or in the case of the Eastern Orthodox, Greek. The participants weren’t there to enjoy or understand what was being sung.

As far as church music is concerned, the two most influential Protestant reformers are Martin Luther (1483-1546) and John Calvin (1509-1564). Most modern Protestant denominations can find their roots in one of their two approaches.

Martin Luther was a priest and skilled musician who loved music and felt it to be a great tool to change people’s hearts and minds. He said, “Beautiful music is the art of the prophets that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us.”

Luther believed the center of worship should focus on the congregation, especially in singing. He encouraged the use of literary, poetic and secular vernacular to widen the appeal of the Christian message. The Chorale is probably one of his biggest contributions. The other may be the belief that music, and musicians could glorify God. Just because music was pleasurable didn’t necessarily make it sinful. He felt art and artists should be supported and that they should strive to make their work “pleasing to God.” Many denominations are in the Luther camp including Anglicans, Methodists, and Baptists.

John Calvin taught that the only use of music was to sing the Psalms or other scriptures. He said,” these things being not only superfluous, but useless, are to be abstained from, because pure and simple modulation is sufficient for the praise of God, if it is sung with the heart and with the mouth.” The beauty of music was a temptation and “useless”. Music from Calvin influenced denominations therefore have very simple to no arrangements and little to no instrumentation. The Congregationalists, Unitarians, Presbyterians all subscribe to John Calvin’s approach.

Calvin influenced Hymnbooks known as “Psalters” become common with one note per syllable or metric. All hymns still use this metric system. In hymn meter you count the number of syllables per line verses thinking in poetic “feet”. For example “Amazing Grace” and Joy to the World” are both in 8.6.8.6 or in Common Meter. In your hymnal it will say C.M. In early hymn books only the words would be given and by knowing the hymn meter you could choose a tune that your congregation would already know that would fit the hymn’s meter. Try singing “Amazing Grace” to the tune of “Joy to the World” or visa versa and you’ll understand. The songs have different accents on different syllables but they both have the same hymn meter.

In the Sixteenth century the Church of England became the only sanctioned religion in England. If you didn’t agree or follow the rules you were considered a Dissenter or Non- Conformist. One very influential non-Conformist was the minister and hymnist Isaac Watts (1674-1748). Isaac Watts took the Psalms and paraphrased them, often from his own individual perspective. He did this using poetic language and form. This was revolutionary and opened the door to hymnists such as Charles Wesley (1707 -1788), and many others who wrote about a more personal relationship with God or Jesus and the twin armory of an Oxford poetic education and a deeply personal and emotional spiritual perspective.

In America, two key figures are American composer and singing teacher William Billings (1746-1800). Billings developed his own compositions without any formal training. He was perhaps the most popular composer in Revolutionary America. The remnants of his style of American frontier music make up Shape Note and primitive singing to this day. This approach was almost eradicated by the music educator and composer Lowell Mason (1792-1872) whose was trained in Classical European music and felt that Billings and others were too primitive and backwards. He believed that we should honor the European composers and teach standard music notation and Common Practice rules of harmony and theory in public schools. The rules of arranging and music theory from the Common Practice era of Mozart and Hayden are still taught in public schools and colleges today.

Hymnody is a fascinating subject to explore. Find out who wrote and selected the hymns in your hymnal and why? Happy digging!


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.

Five smooth stones

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 19, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Our great 20th Century Unitarian Universalist minister and theologian, James Luther Adams wrote of five underlying principles of liberal religion. This principles seem eerily relevant still.


Reading
exerpt from Being Human Religiously by James Luther Adams

Whatever the destiny of the planet or of the individual life, a sustaining meaning is discernable and commanding in the here and now. Anyone who denies this denies that there is anything worth taking seriously or even worth talking about. Every blade of grass, every work of art, every scientific endeavor, every striving for righteousness bears witness to this meaning. Indeed, every frustration or perversion of truth, beauty, or goodness also bears this witness, as the shadow points round to the sun.

Sermon

When I was a child attending a little Southern Baptist church in the S.E. Texas town of Groves, one of the stories they used to tell us was the one about David and Goliath from the Hebrew Bible. You may be familiar with it.

Goliath is a giant, philistine soldier who has been taunting King Saul and the Israelites, daring anyone of them to come do battle with him. Saul and the Israelites are terrified

This goes on for 40 days until, David, somewhere between boyhood and young man, arrives on the scene and tells King Saul that he will battle Goliath. Eventually, Saul reluctantly agrees, fearing David is too young, too small and too inexperienced. He loans David his coat of armor, helmet and sword, but they are too big and heavy for David.

Instead, David goes out to challenge the giant with nothing but a wooden staff, his slingshot and 5 smooth stones he gathers from a stream and places in his pouch.

As soon as Goliath sees David, he bellows, basically, “Look at you, ya little pipsqueak. I’ma killya dead.”

And then David drones on for a while about the Lord God Almighty being on his side, until finally, they charge at each other, the giant with his sword raised overhead. David takes a stone out of his pouch, loads it in his slingshot and strikes Goliath right in the center of the forehead. Goliath falls face down upon the ground, at which point David runs over and cuts the giant’s head off using Goliath’s own sword.

This is followed by much celebration, David having what seems suspiciously like a gay love affair with Saul’s son, Jonathan, and David becoming a great warrior who would eventually become the king himself.

They didn’t really talk about the whole David and Jonathan thing at my little Southern Baptist church. They did tell us that the meaning of this story was about how even the small and weak can prevail against their adversaries with the power of the “Lord God Almighty” on their side.

Even as a small child, that explanation didn’t ring true for me. For me, it seemed like David had prevailed because he had been quite ingenious by coming up with one of the first documented examples of insurgent, asymmetrical warfare.

Yes, I was a budding liberal religious geek even back then.

I tell you this whole David and Goliath story because it is also the genesis of another reinterpretation of it by our preeminent, 20th Century, Unitarian Universalist theologian, minister and scholar, James Luther Adams. Much of Adams thinking was greatly informed by what he witnessed while he was in Germany during the rise of Nazism.

It is amazing (and a little scary too) then, that so many of his ideas are still relevant today. I think even those who are not familiar with James Luther Adams or his works, will recognize the influence his ideas still have within Unitarian Universalist thought and theology.

As a liberal religion, and a small one at that, it can certainly feel sometimes like we are up against one or even many Goliaths.

Specifically, Adam’s ideas that I want to explore today, and that I think are still extremely relevant for our faith, are his ideas around, if liberal religion where to pick up five smooth stones as David did, what would be the tenants those stones might represent?

I will briefly go through all five of them in his words, which can be academic and a little dense, and then we’ll break each one down a little further. James Luther Adam’s five stones of liberal religion are:

  1. – “revelation is continuous”,
  2. – “all relations between persons ought ideally to rest on mutual, free consent and not on coercion”,
  3. – we affirm “the moral obligation to direct one’s effort toward the establishment of a just and loving community,”
  4. – “we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and affirm the necessity of social incarnation”,
  5. – “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change justify an attitude of ultimate optimism.”

Now Adams used the terms “God” and “Divine” pretty freely, so let me take a small diversion here to read for you his words about such terms.

He writes, “To be sure, the word “God” is so heavily laden with unacceptable connotations that it is for many people scarcely usable without confusion… Indeed, the word “God” may in the present context be replaced by the phrase “that which ultimately concerns humanity” or “that in which we should place our confidence.”

“God (or that in which we may have faith) is the inescapable, commanding reality that sustains and transforms all meaningful existence.”

So, let’s go through each smooth stone in more detail now.

The first stone is that “revelation is continuous”. Unlike some fundamentalist religions, which believe that once God laid down the sacred scriptures, he said, “Well that’s it. Revelation is now sealed for all eternity. Move along now, nothing else to see here,” we believe that we are always still learning. We must continue to question what we think we know to be the truth. As our island of knowledge expands, so does the shoreline of unknowing and mystery.

We do not provide creeds or easy answers but do support one another in a free and responsible search for truth meaning and beauty. We are responsible for seeking out meaning and new revelations because they help us understand more and more what our creative possibilities are.

I think we see this in our church all the time, as people of all ages explore together the mysterious of living creative, meaningful and ethical lives. We do this in worship, in our faith development classes and throughout the life of this church.

The second stone is that “all relations between persons ought ideally to rest on mutual, free consent and not on coercion” . Now. Of course, Adams recognizes that this cannot be absolute. We require children to attend school, for example. He is warning us though that both religion and the state can easily become coercive – that even persuasion if it is based on fear can easily “be perverted into a camouflage for duress.” It becomes coercive.

Sound familiar?

Adams reminds us that liberal religion grew out of an aversion to overly hierarchical “ecclesiastical pecking orders” – church denominational structures that were extremely top down and coercive in nature.

We see this rejection of extreme hierarchy even today in the way that Unitarian Universalism is organized through a system called congregational polity – each church owns its own property, elects its own board of trustees and calls its senior minister. We are an association of churches, but our Unitarian Universalist Association bureaucracy has no legal authority over any individual church.

We also see this stone reflected in our covenant of healthy relations at this church, which describes how we will be in right relationship with one another.

As ministers, Meg and I don’t get to use the promise of heaven and the threat of hell to grant ourselves authority or as coercion to try to get people to up their stewardship pledge!

Ours is a beloved community based upon on mutual, free consent and not on coercion.

Adams third smooth stone involves “the moral obligation to direct one’s effort toward the establishment of a just and loving community.” We must build the beloved community, that community of love and justice, both within our church walls and, perhaps more importantly, beyond them.

Adams wrote, “A faith that is not the sister of justice is bound to bring us to grief.” It becomes stale and thwarts the inherent creative potential of its people.

He continued, “Freedom, justice, and love require a body as well as a spirit. We do not live by spirit alone. A purely spiritual religion is a purely spurious religion; it is one that exempts its believer from surrender to the sustaining, transforming reality that demands the community of justice and love.”

For the church to be alive and fulfilling its promise, we must be a prophetic church – a church that is participating in the processes that give body and form to love and justice in our world and making a moral demand for such love and justice from our societal and political leaders.

We see this in First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin through the call to do justice in our mission, through our many social justice and interfaith efforts, our people of color group, our alphabet soup group and our white allies for racial equity group, just as a few examples.

We see it through so many of our church members also being involved in non-profit and human rights organizations. Our church members are out in what Adams called the “conflicts and turmoils of the world,” making love and justice real, answering that moral obligation to grow the beloved community.

The fourth smooth stone is that “we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and affirm the necessity of social incarnation”. This one is saying that good does not happen by itself – that we must make it happen by our actions and that the good requires social and institutional forms.

Freedom, love and justice can only be built through organizations — educational, economic, social and political organizations. Freedom, love and justice require, in Adam’s words, “The organization of power and the power of organization”. Our church and our faith must inspire our members to participate in such organizations and, when necessary, build them if they do not yet exist.

Given the authoritarianism and white supremacy that we are witnessing in our world, Adam’s call to organize power seems all the more prophetic now.

A strong example of this in this congregation was when we offered sanctuary to Sulma Franco, an asylum seeker from Guatemala who feared deportation back to a country where her life had been threatened because of her activism on behalf of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer rights. In the three months that Sulma lived on our campus, as many of you will remember, we organized a coalition of local churches, religious leaders and immigrant and human right organizations. That coalition worked with Sulma on a successful campaign to pressure Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to grant Sulma a stay of removal. The stay would allow her the time to stay in the U.S. while the government processed a visa application she had submitted that would give her legal residency status if approved.

A little over two years ago, ICE granted Sulma that stay of removal. AND, that network I mentioned has continued to expand and grow, forming the Austin Sanctuary Network, consisting of well over a dozen local churches and many, many local non-profits and human rights groups. The network has since helped our sister sanctuary church, St. Andrew’s Presbyterian offer sanctuary to another immigrant and her young son.

I am thrilled to let you know also that a few months ago, I joined some members of the Austin Sanctuary Network to accompany Sulma to the ICE office in San Antonio, where they granted her stay of removal for a second year. Then, just a few days ago, Suln1a learned that the government has approved her visa application. She has won legal residency status in the U.S.!

The organization of power and the power of organization.

Adam’s fifth and final smooth stone asserts that “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change justify an attitude of ultimate optimism.” Now this is not a blind or naive optimism, nor is it an immediate optimism. It is perhaps not even that the arc of the universe necessarily bends toward justice. For Adams, it is an optimism that we have all that we need to bend that arc toward justice ourselves, if with each new generation we choose to have the tenacity, courage, perseverance and strength to do so.

Adams recognized that we would experience setbacks. We would make mistakes. He saw that we humans also have a tragic side to our nature – that we can fall prey to the evils of greed, hatred, tribalism nihilism, war and violence, requiring that we adapt a willing humility.

And yet, he also wrote of the great progressive visionaries, who he said, “all sense that at the depths of human nature and at the boundaries of what we are, there are potential resources that can prevent a retreat to nihilism … The affirmative answer of prophetic religion, which may be heard in the very midst of the doom that threatens like thunder, is that history is a struggle in dead earnest between justice and injustice, looking towards the ultimate victory in the promise and fulfillment of grace.”

We have the resources we need. Grace is when we see them and utilize them.

In this church, we have our values: Transcendence, Community, Compassion, Courage and Transformation.

We have our covenant and through it, we have our healthy relations with one another.

I first came to this church over twelve years ago, and since that time I have seen it go through many a challenge and triumph. I think one of this congregation’s great strengths has been and continues to be a willingness to reach for “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change.”

This congregation is filled with love, kindness, humor, joy and willingness to forgive, as well as to see difference and disagreement as potential assets. These resources give us reason for that “attitude of ultimate optimism” of which John Luther Adams wrote.

I would like to leave you with a formulation of the five smooth stones that I saw Connie Goodbread, one of Our Unitarian Universalist Association Southern Region staff members present a while back. I just loved it, and Connie was kind enough to send me her slide.

She took each of the five stones and associated a concept or value word with it. Here they are:

  • Because revelation is continuous, nearly endless discoveries and possibilities lie before us, so we may have great HOPE.
  • When our relationships are consensual, not coerced, we can know the true depth of a healthy and life giving LOVE held in sacred covenant with one another.
  • Fulfilling our obligation to work toward a just and loving community allows us to also know JUSTICE in our own lives.
  • When we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and work to create good in the world through organizing with others, we build up our own COURAGE.
  • Because we have those resources, human and divine, to achieve meaningful change, we may rejoice and know JOY.

Hope. Love. Justice. Courage. Joy.

May we carry these five smooth stones with us throughout our days and throughout the life of this church and our beloved Unitarian Unversalism.

Amen.

Benediction

Go now, with hearts overflowing with hope.

Go now, knowing that the love in this community goes with you until we are together again.

Go now and create justice in our world, filled with the courage to do so and the joy of knowing that nearly endless possibilities still stretch before us.

Maybe the congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed be.”

Go in peace.


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.

 

Get it to the size of an Oreo

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
March 5, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

The sixth principle urges us to promote peace, liberty and justice. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights describes the rights the nations of the UN agreed should be held by all men, women and children.


What I hear from so many of you in the past several months is that there is such a feeling of overwhelm. Quotations abound about never giving up, and the only people who accomplish great things are those who keep working when there is no hope, and that giving up is not an option, there is too much to be done. Yet there is too much to be done. Our sixth principle is overwhelming.

It says that we, as UUs, agree to affirm (say yes to,) and promote (try to get more people to say yes to) the goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all. That’s really big. It makes a person think the framers of the principles were getting tired at the end there, and that they just wrote one that was the equivalent of “well, we want the whole world to be okay, everything else plus that big freezer in the garage.” What do you do with a principle that large and unwieldy?

There is a funny short film on youtube with the title “The Man Who Ate a Car”, and it opens with him talking in his kitchen.

“A car is just the sum of its parts, and a lot of the parts aren’t that big, just a couple of inches across. 75% of the parts of an automobile are a couple of inches across and half an inch deep. That’s the size of an Oreo cookie. And the ones that are too big, you just machine down, smooth out.”

Most of us don’t have time, in the biggest part of our lifespan, to do much for the world. We are busy making a living, raising children, maintaining the relationships we choose, taking care of our health and strength or adjusting to its loss. It’s hard to find time and energy for leaving the world a better place. Ralph Waldo Emerson said a successful life was to leave the world ” a little bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you live…” Many of us do that. I am beginning to know some of the stories of a good number of people in this room and I can tell you there are many people here who will leave the world a little better than they found it. Lives have breathed easier because you have lived. What will you be known for when you are gone? What will be the elements of your legacy? I love how Emerson speaks so hopefully of “a redeemed social condition.” Just one?

Unitarians and Universalists have thrown their life energies in with the forces of change over the centuries. Unitarian Horace Mann organized the public school system Universalist Clara Barton founded the Red Cross. Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes was led by his liberal faith to a much more inclusive interpretation of the law. Thomas Starr King (after whom one of the UU seminaries, the one in Berkley, is named) was inspired to fight the California legislature for continued land rights of Mexicans. Jane Hull founded Hull House in Chicago, and began to professionalize social workers; moving caring for the poor from religious institutions that often pressured you to convert to get care, to non-religiously affiliated professionals. Roger Baldwin was led to establish the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). May Sarton wrote poetry inspiring her readers with truth and beauty. Susan B Anthony worked her whole adult life to get the vote for women.

Social action, politics and art are some ways we can make the world a better place. Most of us, in the ordinary course of our lives, are doing it by being loving family members, teaching our children strong values of usefulness, tolerance, open minded curiosity, kindness, knowledge, wisdom, and love. We teach the children in the church, we care for our grandchildren, we cook for people and visit them when they need company. We make the world a better place by being good friends, by trying to behave correctly and do the right things. Do those actions bring about world community with peace, liberty and justice for all? We can barely make justice within our own church, our own families. How can we heal the whole world?

This principle is over-large, and it sits there, parked in the driveway of every UU who is resolving to live the faith.

“This is a long term activity,” says the man who ate the car. “Look, it took five years. I ate my first two lug nuts on Dec 30, 1990 — finished the last piece of the clutch housing on Feb 14 1995.” Compared to a task with no beginning, no middle and no end, eating a car sounds almost easy.

World community, with peace, liberty and justice for all is too big a goal. It tells us that we are global thinkers, though. We are not “America First-ers.” That doesn’t fit our principle. We don’t say “I’m okay and my family is okay, so let the other people take care of themselves.” We have a big calling, we are called to world community with peace, liberty and justice for all. We are not individually called to that, though. We are called as a community. We’re not alone, We get to rest. We get to be ill, we get to fall back from the front lines when we are battle weary. We’re on a team. A big team with hundreds of thousands of UUs all over the world all holding this same goal.

Overwhelm burns us out. When we can’t get anywhere, when the things we do accomplish seem so insignificant compared to what we are supposed to be accomplishing that we feel they are nothing. We don’t want the sixth principle to make us feel that all our small efforts are insignificant. What I learned about setting goals is that you are supposed to make a goal from something you can control. Instead of saying “I’m going to be a catalyst for change like Barbara Jordan was!” you might say “I’m going to change one thing — about myself — this week.” That you can do, usually. Instead of saying, “My goal is to be a millionaire,” you make a goal of saving a certain amount of your income, or of living within your means day by day, or just or writing down what you spend. Goals should be measurable. Did I do it or not? They should be attainable. We can say that we have a goal to do some action every day to make the world a better place. Most of us are doing that just by living the principles, making our phone calls, supporting the lawmakers of our choice, running for office ourselves, and trying every day to do the next right thing, supporting those who are on the forefront of the work for justice.

One good purpose that can be served by an extra-large, unattainable goal, though, is that it is a measuring stick we can hold up to the various situations and decisions we face as we move through our lives. “Is this going to be more or less like world community?” You might ask yourself. “Will this make more peace, more liberty, more justice, or less?” A good large measuring stick can help as choices come up. Sometimes you still don’t know what to do. You make mistakes. That’s ok. Life is long, and there must be room for mistakes.

Let’s take that sixth principle little by little, and let’s take our time. Take a big important stand or do something small every day, or both. Just hold the goal in mind. Look at your home, your work, your church through its windshield. Machine those pieces down until they are the size of an Oreo cookie.


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.