Donations: Tax Deadline Approaches, but Don’t Get Taken While Giving!

The Tax Deadline Approaches:
Don’t Get Taken While Giving!
January Newsletter Column

You may be reading this as the Dec. 31 deadline for tax-deductible donations approaches.  Or maybe it’s 2010 already, and you want to be intentional as you plan your philanthropic and charitable giving for the new year.  Of course, even without the tax benefits, many of us are moved to give and make a difference in the world.
No matter our personal circumstances or the amount of money and time that we can afford to share, giving to others is a life-affirming act.

Envelopes pile up on the desk and emails stack up in the in-box from many worthy causes–and some not-so-worthy operators.  My own giving guidelines are honed from reading broadly on the topic, web searches, volunteer leadership experience, and an early budget-office career.
I’ve also learned about giving from getting taken now and then.

My suggestions:

Give to what you know.  If you are volunteer for an organization–or if a coworker, close friend or family member is involved there–you will know if it’s doing relevant work, doing it effectively, managing money wisely, and not putting up its leaders in penthouses.  This is why I give the biggest chunk of my donations to this congregation, to the UU Service Committee, the UU Legislative Ministry in California, and to our two remaining UU theological schools– in Chicago and Berkeley.  When I know some of the staff, board members, or other volunteers, I have a better idea of what’s going on in an organization, and I can trust my money is being used well.

Give to what you value.  For example, I couldn’t imagine living in a community without a UU congregation or local Public Radio station, so I support them.

Give locally.  Most social change is forged and social services are delivered at the local level, not out of national headquarters. That’s why I try to give to local branches and chapters, rather than to respond to appeals from New York and Washington.  Every year at UUSS our members vote to select the Community Partner organizations with which we share our Sunday offering each week (such as Family Promise, the local SPCA).  I give in the offering basket with confidence that these were nominated and vetted by church members who have close knowledge of each organizations’ programs, staff and volunteer leadership, and who actually see the benefits of the work.

Give with awareness and intention  about what you’re gaining by giving.  Being reflective about what we get out of our generosity personally can help us avoid being manipulated by appeals to pity, guilt, urgency or drama.

Give after taking time to think about it.  Authentic fund raising professionals will respect your wish to take time to consider whether and how much to give.

Never give over the phone. That is, don’t give to solicitors over the phone (unless you are the one who makes the call to the organization).  Phone solicitors usually charge a large fee to the recipient organization.  Don’t give in response to an email unless you have an established relationship and receive regular emails from the organization.

Give to your own well-being.  Take care of yourself even as you strive to help others.  If you are paying high-interest finance charges, for example, work on getting those costs down rather than piling on debt. That will give you more financial security and more freedom to give in the future. Credit card companies don’t need your help.
Decide the total amount you can give in a year, either as a percentage of your income or your asset base or as a specific dollar amount withheld from your paycheck or drawn from your investments.

Of course, I barely follow that last bit of advice. Yes, I do set a percentage of my income for donations.  But when December rolls around, I realize that I can afford to give away more than I thought! This occurs to me as I reflect on the blessings of the past year and the blessings of my life.  When I pause to be grateful, it helps me to be generous.  And being generous makes me feel alive.

Happy New Year!
Yours in service,

Christmas Eve Candle Light Service Prayer 2009

Christmas Eve Prayer 2009

Family Minister                         UU Society of Sacramento, CA

I invite you to take a deep breath with me and let it out.   Now please join me in the spirit of reflection and hope as I offer these words of prayer.

Eternal Source of Love and Grace, bless us this night and bless our world with peace.  With dark skies and a chill in the outside air, we draw near for warmth and fellowship.  We gather to hear the story of a babe in a manger, sing songs about angels and shepherds, and notice one another’s beautiful faces reflected in the light of candles.  We give thanks for the children among us.  May their anticipation cheer us to open our hearts to wonder,  and to gratitude for the gifts of life.  We give thanks for the grownups, who not only bring rich memories of years past but also help us build new memories.

We give thanks for the blessings that give the season its texture:  music, literature, and other arts; special food and lots of it, and the personal donations of time and money that make a difference in the world.  Let us remember those who are working this night at various jobs, and care for those who are out of work and hoping for better times.

Many of those we love are traveling in this season; may they be safe and have good experiences.  On Tuesday our member Cxxxs Bxxxx had a car accident and now is in intensive care, as she recovers from neck surgery.  We send our love to Cxxxx.  May we send healing prayers to all those who suffer in body, mind or spirit.    For many of us, this season brings to mind those we have lost.  In our sadness may we find comfort in precious memories.  Among us are those with “sorrows unrelated to the season but which feel all the more pointed now.”[i] May we find ease in the embrace of community.  .

Given that we all have lonely times, may we strive to reach out so that we might give and receive the gifts of warmth, attention, and understanding.

On this night we call to mind those who are hungry, homeless or without stable housing.  Let us be grateful for people who extend the hand of compassion, generosity and hospitality, and who know how much it means to share with others.  We extend our care to those in zones of war, occupation and other places of violence, those who serve there and those who call such places home.  Let us pray for justice and reconciliation–and for enough courage to achieve such holy aims.

We give thanks for the abundance of this earth—for its gifts of food, water, wilderness, and countless dazzling forms of life whose claim to existence is no less worthy than our own.  May we grow in stewardship of the gifts of our precious planet.

While we observe Christmas tonight, we know that we live in a land of many faith traditions, each with its own gifts of wonder, wisdom, and compassion.  Let us call forth all the good will of humanity to share these gifts, and move toward the vision of an earth made fair.

Spirit of Life, bless us this night and bless our world with peace.  So may it be.

Now let us take a half-minute of silence to be present in our bodies and our breathing, to feel ourselves fully here, together on this night.

---

[i] Quoted from an email from a parishioner this morning.

Winter Solstice Sunday sermon

Winter’s Wisdom

December 20, 2009

Family Minister,  UU Society of Sacramento

Hymns:

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” “Deck the Halls,”“All Beautiful the March of Days.”

WORDS ON WINTER 1

I grew up in the Midwest, and lived in Indiana and Illinois until my mid-30s.  We had cold winters there, but you could not count on a white Christmas—it didn’t snow that often or stay that cold.  Twelve years ago I moved west, to the San Jose area.  That was where I learned that winter can happen without snow.  One sunny afternoon in San Francisco I sat at an outdoor café, without a coat—it was too warm.  I kept saying to myself:  “It’s December 31^st!  I can’t believe it!”  Winter in the Bay Area, as well as in Sacramento, has lots of fog early in the morning, clear sunny days, chilly nights, and rain.

It’s pleasant here, and by now I’m used to our California climate.  Yet Midwestern weather patterns are imprinted on my soul. This makes it hard for me to keep track of dates and seasons.  Two weeks ago I strolled in my neighborhood where a strong wind had showered the streets with brown leaves, and kept enough yellow and red leaves on the branches of the big trees to play with the bright warm sunshine.  The wind was strong and a bit chilly, so I walked on the sunny side of the street.  I said to myself, “What a perfect October day.” Then I remembered that it was December and there were 20 shopping days till Christmas.

Images of winter time in poetry, songs and essays are dominated by ice and snow.  Even though much of this country’s population lives in regions where snow seldom falls, memories are etched in frosty words and pictures.

The music and readings in our Unitarian Universalist hymnals reflect the New England origins of our faith tradition when it comes to climate and weather:  Snow, snow, snow.  Not many words to honor the rejuvenating rain of the western winters.  No poetry to evoke the longings we feel in Sacramento during July and August.  I mean longings like “Get Me Out of Here!”  No lines about our summer night’s cool release:  our beloved Delta breeze.
In the Bay Area I came to love how the hills turn green in the winter, soaking up the rains after the summer heat has taken the moisture and color from the grasses.  The poet Karl Shapiro wrote a poem of his appreciation of our Central Valley winters.  Formerly a professor at the University of California, Davis, Shapiro called his poem California Winter^[i], simply enough.

Here’s the last few stanzas:

And skiers from the snow line driving home

Descend through almond orchards, olive farms.

Fig tree and palm tree — everything that warms

The imagination of the wintertime.

If the walls were older one would think of Rome:

If the land were stonier one would think of Spain.

But this land grows the oldest living things,

Trees that were young when Pharoahs ruled the world,

Trees whose new leaves are only just unfurled.

Beautiful they are not; they oppress the heart

With gigantism and with immortal wings;

And yet one feels the sumptuousness of this dirt.

It is raining in California, a straight rain

Cleaning the heavy oranges on the bough,

Filling the gardens till the gardens flow,

Shining the olives, tiling the gleaming tile,

Waxing the dark camellia leaves more green,

Flooding the daylong valleys like the Nile.

In appreciation of our own winter wonderland, and the rains that renew the land, let’s make it rain today.  As a minister I do not claim the power of prayer to bring on rain, or knowledge of any incantations, but our other minister does.  Doug, please make it happen.  [Congregation making sounds of a rainstorm.]

WORDS ON WINTER 2

I have a confession.  I am a Christmas-season crank.  Why else would I be wearing a tie with Dr. Seuss’s “Grinch Who Stole Christmas” on it?  And why else would a best friend have given it to me years ago if she didn’t know this about me!

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” the song goes, but not for me.  Every December, as nights lengthen and obligations pile up, I have bouts of feeling overwhelmed, annoyed, sad, and downright unspiritual.  The reasons may include the shortness of daylight, unhappy memories of holiday seasons from my youth, and the race to get so many things done before the December 25^th deadline.   Most years I don’t feel ready for Christmas …till February.

December makes me feel inadequate as a minister.  Our UU tradition validates many kinds of religious observances as well as civic and secular ones.  However, to be as inclusive as possible in making time for those observances, we’d have to make time for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany for starters–but also Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Human Rights Day, World AIDS Day, Our Lady of Guadalupe’s Day, Pearl Harbor Day, New Year’s Day, the Islamic New Year and the Hindu observance of Diwali, in years when it falls in December.  Maybe you’ve thought of a seasonal observance that I’ve overlooked.

Last Monday I was leading an adult enrichment class, and we included the lighting of a Menorah, to acknowledge Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights.  One member asked why we had put a Christmas tree in the sanctuary so early in December, but we didn’t have a Menorah in here last Sunday, right in the middle of the eight days of Hanukkah.  Trying to be non-defensive, I explained that our tree trimming party had been held early this year because I was organizing it, and was going to be out of town last Saturday.  And the Menorah?  This year, it slipped by me.  Last year, it didn’t.  Fortunately tonight we have an enthusiastic team of lay leaders organizing the Winter Solstice ritual and potluck dinner, so I’m confident it will happen.  All I have to do is remember to show up!

The month of December is an accumulation of celebrations, a month when holidays are added but not replaced.   But there were simpler times!  After the Puritan revolt in England in 1645, Christmas was cancelled.  When Massachusetts was a Puritan colony, Christmas was against the law from 1659 to 1681  And “anyone exhibiting the Christmas spirit was fined five shillings.”^[ii] And I thought that I was cranky!

In years past—long past—winter was a time to start slowing down, at least in cold northern climates.  The growing darkness and harsh weather would force people to ease their pace, huddle together, stay close to home, and gather round the fireplace, the hearth. A century ago in many parts of the country, the wood-burning fireplace was a household’s center of life, drawing folks together for warmth.  Nowadays the wood-burning fireplace is not usually a source of heat or a place for cooking in a house, but an architectural decoration.  It’s a source of nostalgia for an era that many of us didn’t experience.  Also in earlier times, winter provided obstacles to traveling large distances—this kept life simpler and slower, if no less difficult.  Now, the speed of modern travel and the comfort of warm cars has made it easy to become “heedless of the wind and weather.”  Of course, we’re lucky to be able to travel—except for the times we’re like those poor people now snarled in the snowfall on the East Coast.

So, noting such dramatic exceptions, I still think that in our time the winter cannot require us to slow down, especially in this local climate.  Winter can’t make us–but it still invites us–to take some time, stay inside, and go inward personally, to reflect and rest.

Sometimes the only thing that can make us pause or slow down is not our conscious choice but a crisis, like freezing rain, a power outage, an illness.  A hardworking friend has told me that he rarely has to take sick time and stay at home, but when he does get sick it gives him permission to let go.  It insists that he let go.  Being sick enough to have to stay home in bed–but not so ill that you are totally out of it–can be like a vacation, only you don’t get frequent flier miles for it.  Of course, many workers in our state and nation have no paid sick time for family needs or personal illness, and for those without health insurance, an illness can be a disaster, rather than a break from hard work.  Maybe it’s better not to count on a crisis to slow us down.

It takes intention and effort to take a break from our demanding lives.  How about that—it takes effort to let go!  For example, I try to counteract my December stress by keeping to my morning meditation and to my exercise routine as much as I can. I try to get a good night’s sleep.  But I’m not sure any of it works.  Even with all this, I still feel crazy, chaotic and cranky!  I can barely imagine how much worse off I would be without some ways to ground myself.  Actually I can remember Decembers past when I was much more frenzied.  Once was in such a distracted hurry that I backed into someone in a parking lot.  Another time, I filled my gas tank at a self-serve station and drove a mile down the road before I realized that I hadn’t paid.
I guess I’m better now.  I still dislike the early sunsets of this time of year, but I try to counteract my resentment by getting up from my desk in the afternoon at 4:30 or 5:00 and going for a short walk in the neighborhood.  It’s a way to ease myself into the evening, to greet the darkness instead of cursing it, as well as to get one last glimpse of daylight.  This helps me think of winter as an gentle invitation, rather than as a curse.  A song written by Shelley Jackson Denham says:  “Dark of winter, soft and still, your quiet calm surrounds me.  Let my thoughts go where they will; ease my mind profoundly.  And then my soul will sing a song, a blessed song of love eternal.  Gentle darkness, soft and still, bring your quiet to me.”  (SLT hymnal #55)

I can’t say for sure that any spiritual practice makes a big difference in my experience of the season, but I trust that it helps, even if I’m not able to do it every day.  It’s act of trust and faith that something is going on under the surface of life, something is worth waiting for.  That’s the message of our UU spiritual heritage:   Something is worth waiting for–in every single person, in each one of us.  The late Andrew Wyeth, a painter from Pennsylvania, said he preferred the landscape of a northern winter to that of spring.  He said:  “Something waits beneath [a winter landscape] — the whole story doesn’t show.”

I’ve been thinking of life as a garden, in particular a west-coast winter garden.  Rosalie Wright  has written (in Sunset magazine, 1999) that winter “is the quietest time in a garden.  But just because it looks quiet doesn’t mean that nothing is happening.  The soil, open to the sky, absorbs the pure rainfall while microorganisms convert tilled-under fodder into usable nutrients for the next crop of plants.  The feasting earthworms tunnel along… preparing [the soil] to welcome the seeds and bare roots to come.”

By the time Christmas arrives, I may not have accomplished all my tasks and goals for the month.  I will have experienced my sad, anxious and cranky times.  But I also will be surprised now and then—and have already had surprises, such as when I can see a bigger picture, when I can feel that things are okay however they are happening, however they might happen. If I don’t spend energy fighting against the unpleasant moments of life, I can make room for the hidden, pleasant moments to emerge.  I make room for gladness and grace.

Maybe some of you can find a simple practice to give yourself:  taking a break, sitting in silence, noticing the breath, giving thanks, or otherwise choosing to give yourself a moment before doing the next thing.  To me, that’s the wisdom of the season—an invitation to tend our lives as gently as gardener in the winter.

Winter is a time of preparation—of watching as well as tending.  This means both activity and waiting, motion and rest.  Life’s gifts can’t be ripped open like a wrapped package.  If we watch and wait, and give some attention and faith to what is under the surface of life, its gifts open themselves.

Every person’s life is a reason for gratitude.  It’s a gift.  Life is a gift worthy of tending like a winter garden, worth our patience and our attention.

May you make room for blessings this coming week, this winter season, and in all the days to come.  May you be blessed.

So may it be.  Amen.

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^[i] http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/california-winter/

^[ii] http://www.history.com/content/christmas/the-real-story-of-christmas/an-outlaw-christmas

Cooperative Housing for Unitarians: Maybe Not for Reality TV

My last afternoon in Boston I too the T south to visit two friends and their new baby and his big brother.  They drove me back in and took me along to a fundraising dinner on Beacon Hill–but not one of those fancy ones.

This was held in a big old house–the Beacon Hill Friends House–a co-op for 21 people.  Residents have individual or double rooms, access to large common rooms with old stuffed furniture, and  they share chores, take turns preparing five common dinners a week, and govern themselves by Quaker Meeting principles.  Room and board (wholesome and home-made board at that) runs $700-$900 a month–affordable housing for anywhere in Boston and a steal for Beacon Hill.

The Friends House has  been in operation over 50 years–and there are other co-op homes with similar longevity.  The usual residency is two years, though folks can request to stay an additional third and fourth year.  The Quakers do not dine together on Fridays, which enabled them to host this dinner for an up-and-coming UU counterpart community.

A small group of smart, cheerful young adult Unitarian Universalists (most of them life-long UUs) has become a planning team to establish the Lucy Stone Co-Op, which they envision to be a co-housing community for 10-20 people based on and governed by Unitarian Universalist values and principles.  They plan to find real estate in the nearby town of Jamaica Plain, southwest of the city.

They’ve gained inspiration from many sources, including individual UUs, residents of other co-ops and Boston Community Cooperatives, an umbrella organization.  In particular, a Jewish co-op has become a center of progressive action and Jewish religious practice that welcomes hundreds of non-resident members and volunteers every year. While most folks currently enthusiastic about this house are young adults, the planning teams hopes for a multi-generational household that crosses lines of class and ethnicity.

Lucy Stone was a Quakerish Unitarian Congregationalist active in women’s suffrage and slavery-abolition movements, and the first woman known to have kept her last name after marriage.

Amid the testimonials by team members and committed donors over dessert, one person made the point that many faith traditions–especially Roman Catholicism–offer their people may opportunities to deepen their faith or their commitment to it:  spiritual retreats, conference centers, worker houses, volunteer missions, lay theological education, etc.  For UUs, however, the options for deepening one’s faith and commitment usually are 1) go to seminary or 2) join  a committee.  (Or go on retreat at a monastery or Catholic meditation center!)

Hence, the planning team hopes the Lucy Stone Co-Op will be a center of liberal religious activism and service, including in community members many more folks than the residence itself would hold.

To finance the purchase they will seek loans from individuals (in $5,000 increments) and UU congregational endowments (in $25,0000 increments), which will pay low interest–but better than CDs and savings accounts pay right now.  With enough donations and investments from supporters, they might be able to finance the place without borrowing from a bank. Target for housing acquisition is 6-9 months.  Once it’s paid off the property will be held by the not-for-profit corporation.

They just got word of a grant for publicity and technical assistance from the Fund for Unitarian Universalism.  They are raising funds to help with closing costs and as much of a down payment.  And they just got a big check from me.   Read more at http://sites.google.com/a/lucystonecoop.org/lsc/about

Downtown at Night

Last night I went to the Advisory Committee for the Sacramento-to-Bethlehem Sister City Initiative.  I parked several blocks from the meeting place–confused by google maps, as usual–and walked.When I left, after 9 PM, dowtown wa empty.  I walked by City Hall and another government building and was jarred by screeching–loud sounds of attacking, menacing birds.  But the buildings were dark and nobody–and no birds–were around.  It took me some time to guess it was recorded sounds of birds of prey to scare the pigeons–not to scare the poop out of them but to scare them away from a favorite poop site.  I’m new to town–does that sound right to you?

Testimonials about Supporting the UU Movement

It was a dark December in 1999, and we on the Minister Search Committee were stumped. We had some excellent ministerial candidates, but after conducting phone interviews, none seemed quite right for UUSS. We called the Unitarian Universalist Association’s Ministerial Settlement Office in Boston and asked if we could have more candidates. Sure, they’d send another minister’s packet that might just work for us. It came in the mail a few days later, and that’s how we met the Rev. Doug Kraft. — Carrie

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I remember the first time I went to General Assembly.  It was in Phoenix in June, ghastly hot.  But walking into that assembly hall and seeing 3000 Unitarians all working together with the same goals, ideas and values was so moving to me.  Being part of the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations makes me realize that UUSS is not out there alone trying to make a difference.  —  Linda

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To work with our youth in Religious Education, I was completely dependent on the excellent materials produced for the “Our Whole Lives” (“OWL”) series to handle sensitive issues in a non-didactic way which facilitated values clarification and development.  In addition to these resources developed at the national level, I attended training provided at the District level.

The breathtakingly-beautiful high alpine environment of deBenneville Pines Camp in the San Gabriel Mountains, one of 30 UU camps around the country, was a wonderful environment for my daughter to have the camaraderie of other children of gays or lesbian parents at “Rainbow Family Camp.”  It was so delightful, we’ve gone twice.  A memory for life is Charlotte exclaiming –  while peeking out the window at dawn – “Daddy, Jorge, it snowed!”   — Ron

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Being with thousands of other UUs at our General Assembly is so empowering.  The range of issues addressed, the opportunities for self-discovery and growth, and friendships started are incredible.  Our movement addresses crucial issues of our day:  civil rights, marriage equality, peace-making, women’s rights, demographic change and equity, and environmental issues, to name a few.  When you trace the impacts UUs make when aspirations are translated into actions at individual congregations, you realize we have an honorable legacy. –- Ron

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Please give generously to support UUSS’s membership in the Unitarian Universalist Association and its Pacific Central District. Checks may be made out to UUSS with a note in the memo line of “UUA/PCD Dues Campaign.”   Thank you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Skim through the songs, readings and commentary of a UU hymnal.  It is window into a mosaic of inspiration, inquiry and affirmation. –- Ron Selge

 

Please give generously to support UUSS’s membership in the Unitarian Universalist Association and its Pacific Central District. Checks may be made out to UUSS with a note in the memo line of “UUA/PCD Dues Campaign” and returned in the attached envelope. Thank you!

UUSS Reaches Out in Solidarity: Stepping Up to Support our UU Religious Movement

By the Family Minister
October 2009
This congregation voluntarily participates in the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations because we know that our congregations are better together.  We are also one of 40 congregations in the UUA’s Pacific Central District.

We give and receive support to other congregations by yearly contributions to sustain these district and national networks of support.  The rate of contributions is based on congregation size.  Normally, UUSS would give about $30,000 per year to support this work.  Unfortunately, in the current year our UUSS budget includes a nearly-total cut in its support of the district and the UUA.

Our support does not have to remain that low, however.  The Board of Trustees has authorized a special appeal for donations by members, friends and guests of UUSS to sustain the work of our larger movement.  I am happy that UUSS members Ron Selge and Linda Clear have agreed to lead this fundraising project.
A few examples of how UUA and District involvement helps us at UUSS:
Last winter our church hosted the Pacific Central District’s marketing & outreach workshop, and many of us attended.  (It was one of several organized by the district every year.)

The PCD spring assembly features inspiring keynote addresses, creative worship, and workshops to help lay leaders learn ideas and skills from one another.
The national UUA helps congregations find ministers and make good matches with them. (So far, so good…right?)
The UUA provides training and leadership materials for lay officials, religious educators and ministers.  It publishes our gray and green hymnals, books on spiritual practice, social justice and UU identity and excellent religious education materials for children, teens and adults in congregations.

Last spring our Youth Coming of Age leaders made use of an excellent new handbook from the UUA; in June eight of us made a UU heritage tour of Boston, Lexington and Concord.  This year several more UUSS teens will benefit from the UUA’s age-appropriate comprehensive sexuality education programs, known as Our Whole Lives (OWL).
Our denomination’s elected leaders have given voice to our values of reason, freedom and compassion on social issues of fairness and justice, including marriage equality, reproductive rights, religious diversity, peace making and health-care access.
I am proud to be a Unitarian Universalist and proud to be part of this UU congregation.
In response to the invitation to help restore our UUSS support of our denomination and local district, I will make a personal donation of $250.  To the extent that you are able, I hope you will consider making a generous donation in this campaign to sustain and build our liberal religious movement.
Every gift makes a difference!

Faithfully,
Roger

PS—Checks may be mailed or brought to church and made out to UUSS with this memo line note: “UUA/PCD.” To receive a weekly update from our UU district executive about local and national UU news and opportunities, send a note to CRaughley@uua.org.

Another PS–as of November 1, advance gifts to this appeal totaled $1,250.  Thank you!

Saying Grace (All-Ages Homily, Sunday Before Thanksgiving)

 

Roger Jones All-Ages Service, November 23, 2008

Family Minister            UU Society of Sacramento, CA

 

 

Saying Grace

 

One summer day I was back in my Indiana home town, having lunch with a group of my late mother’s cousins.  As we sat down to the table, one asked me “Roger, would you return thanks?”  He meant: would I say grace. The remarkable thing about this is that I had not been in the habit of saying grace, or hearing it, while growing up in my churchgoing Protestant family in that small town in the Midwest.  I didn’t get into the practice of saying grace until I was in my late 20s, after I had become a Unitarian Universalist.

This is what I prayed before lunch:  “Dear God, we give you thanks for the gift of life and the gift of this new day, for the blessing of reunion and joyful memories, for this food, and for the hands that have prepared it.  We call to mind those who are no longer with us but who live in our hearts.  May this food nourish us so that we can be more kind, generous, and loving. Amen.”

Learning grace as a UU has taught me the wide-open possibilities for saying thanks, whether or not we believe in God or mention the divine at all.  At a ministers’ support group in the late ‘90s, a colleague gave the blessing for a meal.  She included thanks for the farm workers, the truckers, and those who prepared and served our food.  Thus did I learn that grace is not just a nice ritual, but an opportunity for ethical reflection.

As children, many of us grow up learning the value of saying thank you for a favor, a gift, a helping hand, or a compliment from another person.  Why not acknowledge other sources of help and goodness?  In addition to thanking people, how about thanking the great cosmic mystery from which all abundance emerges?  Some say God, others bring to mind the web of inter-connected beings and elements, and the energy that holds it all together and welcomes us as a part of the whole.  The practice of giving thanks can take many forms. 

            It’s my impression that more families have mealtime rituals nowadays than when I was growing up, whether they’re in a more conservative religious tradition, in a UU church, or none at all.  One family in this church is making a collection of songs to sing and words to say aloud for their mealtime ritual.  Here’s their current favorite:

Earth who gives to us this food,

Sun who makes it ripe and good,

Dear Sun above and Earth below,

Our loving thanks to you we show.

Blessings on our meal, our friends, our family and on us, and may peace be on Earth.

Blessed be.

In an earlier church of mine I dined with a family whose blessing included remembering those who are hungry or homeless, both people and dogs and cats.  Such a ritual can be a magical time, a sacred moment. I know middle-aged couples with no children, and those with none at home anymore, who sit down at the table, join hands, close their eyes, and breathe in silence for a few moments. 

I know a couple in retirement.  Every evening they make a light supper, close a heavy curtain over the doorway into their dining area and light a votive candle.  Then one of them reads from the book A Grateful Heart, a collection of poems and prayers for mealtime. But even if we are eating alone, we can take a moment for gratitude.  My Buddhist meditation teachers have suggested that we pause and look at the food on the plate, noticing its colors and textures and smells, and then eat with a bit more attention and pacing.  Of course, this solo practice is easier for me to do when the news is not on the radio, I’m not reading a magazine, and the laptop computer is not open on the table. In other words, I rarely do it. 

Here’s mealtime grace used by another family in this congregation:

We are grateful for all our gifts

We are safe, calm, and patient

We trust in the process of life

Peace and harmony fill us and surround us

All is well

Amen

            I want to tell you about my stealth grace.  When I am out with friends for a meal, and the food is served I might say, “Well, I am grateful to be alive, to have a place to live and a job I love, to have this food, and to be here with you.” Once a friend responded [with a skeptical tone] “Okaaay…”  Another said, “Yes!  Me too.” One friend responds, amen!  Another one likes to recount what he is grateful for.  Sometimes when I’m dining with others, I simply ask, “Are we not blessed?  To have this food and be safe and be here together…. Are we not blessed?”  Who but a crank is going to say no!

Many people know the value of making what’s called a gratitude list.  No matter how burdened we may feel, no matter how unfair life can be, this practice can shift our perspective and help us recognize the blessings we do have.  Over time, perhaps, the attitude of gratitude, and the practice of giving thanks, can lift our spirits. 

Recently a colleague sent an email summarizing a children’s book she recommended.  The secret, the message of the book, she said is this:  You don’t become grateful by being happy.  You become happy by being grateful.

There are so many gifts in life, which we perhaps can recognize if we take some time.  Let us show our thanks in ways that are true and right for us.  May we remember to look for reasons both great and small for giving thanks, and may doing so increase our happiness.  Perhaps this is what it means to say, Happy Thanksgiving.  So may it be.  

Happy, Huffy, Cranky and Smiley: Greeting Folks at Church

Today’s Reading is a Dialogue over a Troubling Scenario:

Ms.  Happy:  ”Are you new?  Have we met?”  

Mr. Huffy:  ”I’ve been coming here for 10 years!”

Analysis with the Help of Pastor Cranky and Pastor Smiley:

Pastor Smiley:  This is a common occurrence (or at least a commonly feared one) in churches with more than a certain number of people in attendance. Say, 20.  It happens more often when the church has more than one Sunday worship service, a lot of visitors, members who do not come to church every Sunday, members who drift away and come back, a big crowd on Sundays, shy people, or outgoing people with weak memories.  In other words, it’s inherent in any church, except one where worshipers don’t ever talk to one another.  

Pastor Cranky:  It’s also a common problem when members fail to put their NAME TAGS on and keep them on till they are ready to head home.  It’s a problem when our guests take off their name tags or somehow slip by our crack Hospitality Team.  It’s a problem for me, because it makes me look like a bad pastor when I don’t call people by name but only stare at them blankly as my brain goes through its Rolodex.  

Pastor Smiley: Well, my solution is to smile, of course.  ”It’s good to see you!  Thanks for being here!”

Ms. Happy:  ”But how can we get connected to folks if we are afraid to ask them who they are and introduce ourselves?  I was trying only to be friendly.”

Mr. Huffy:  ”Well, I guess I reacted to your question a little too…uh, huffily.  I’m sorry.  Thanks for talking to me.”

Pastor Smiley:  ”I am new on staff here myself, so I know only a small fraction of people by name.  And the kids keep growing and changing, and they aren’t here every Sunday either, so it’s hard to keep track of them.”

Pastor Cranky:  ”How can we get folks to wear their name tags?  Fine them?”

Pastor Smiley:  ”Not such a welcoming tactic.  What I say is:  ’Remind me of your name, please….’

Or I say: ‘I think we’ve met, haven’t we?  No?  Oh, I’m sorry.  Well, my name is Ralph Waldo Emerson.  It’s good to meet you!  When did you start coming here?’ “

Ms. Happy:  ”So you don’t put the spotlight on the other person?  

Instead, you ask, ‘We’ve met, haven’t we?’ “

Mr. Huffy:  ”Yes, that would be better, but I must admit that if you ask me that question four weeks in a row, it’ll hurt my feelings.”

Pastor Cranky:  ”So you are promising to come to church four Sundays in a row?”

Pastor Smiley:  ”Now, Cranky, loosen up.  Let’s remember that we all want to be here, that most of us want to see friendly faces, and to be known personally, and hear the sound of our names.  Let’s try to take it a little easy.”  

Ms. Happy:  ”And if we wear a name tag, we will  make it even easier!”

Mr. Huffy:   “Okay.  I’ll try to remember.”

Here endeth the reading.

Letter to Explain the Pledge Process to New Members

Dear New Friends and Prospective Members,

Welcome to the congregation!    I’m glad you are considering membership here.

These words come from the Rev. Dr. Rebecca Parker, a UU minister who is the president of Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley: “Over the years in ministry, I’ve learned that no one comes to church for a petty reason.”

I’ve learned that as well. People don’t call to make an appointment with a minister for trivial reasons. No person or family shows up on Sunday mornings just to kill time. Most of our visitors don’t seek us out unless something has set them on a search for belonging, for celebration, and for meaning.

Nobody joins this congregation and nobody supports it for trivial reasons. I think of the volunteers–trustees, committee members, Religious Education teachers, worship leaders, musicians, ushers, Ministry Circle leaders, Lay Ministry listeners, and cooks, among others.
I think of the devoted members and friends who stretch themselves to support the congregation with generous financial pledges every year.

Doug and I invite you to consider the enclosed materials and your own financial circumstances, and to make a generous pledge commitment for the current fiscal year.
Many people think of their pledge in terms of a percentage of their income. I encourage all Unitarian Universalists to aim toward giving, in the aggregate, at least 10% of their annual income to organizations that serve the greater good. One of these organizations, of course, would be their church. I have pledged at least 5% of my income to my churches and about 5% to other institutions, causes, and charities.

The current pledges to UUSS range from less than $10 a month to nearly $20,000 a year. This is an economically diverse congregation. This diversity is what it means to be part of a community. Contributions of all sizes are valued and appreciated.

Some can afford to give more than others, and some less. Indeed, some pledge more because we know others cannot.

Please know that if your financial situation should change in the coming months (for better or for worse), it is quite appropriate to revise your pledge (either down or up!) by notifying the UUSS Office or one of the ministers. One important clarification: the Stewardship Drive for the next fiscal year takes place in February and March, in anticipation of the time needed for budgeting for our next fiscal year, which begins July 1.
If you would like a personal meeting to discuss your pledge or any aspect of church life, please give Doug or me a call or an email. We strive to earn your trust and to keep it.

Your pledge is your decision, so please choose an amount that feels right.

Give till it feels good!

Again, welcome to UUSS.

Yours in the spirit,

Roger

Minister’s Letter for 2009-10 Pledge Drive

Dear Members and Supportive Friends,
I am confident that right now all our members and friends are searching their conscience, evaluating their financial capabilities, and reflecting on the importance of UUSS in their lives and its impact on the lives of so many others in the larger area. I have faith also in our church leaders to make hard but wise choices—even to challenge us to dig deeply and stretch ourselves to make UUSS stronger and more effective in the coming budget year.

This is what the pledge drive is all about. It’s about putting our faith and trust in one another. For a financial pledge is not a typical legal contract, it’s a personal commitment to support the church over a given year at a certain monetary level.

Imagine putting your trust in about 400 people that they will come through for you. Imagine that 400 people are putting their trust in you to do what you can.

Religious community in our tradition is based on the trust that we will be there for one another, that we will do what we can, and that we will ask for help if we need it. Our trust in one another is a blessing. Our trustworthiness is a blessing as a well.

So, trusting that I will be working for UUSS and serving with you in the 2009-10 church year, I am making my financial pledge in the Stewardship Campaign.

Folks who are new to congregational life may not have thought much about pledging, and may feel some stress or lack of clarity about how to think about making a pledge for the coming church year. As with all aspects of participation in a voluntary organization, the amount of your pledge is your own decision.

We ask only that everyone give the pledge drive thoughtful consideration and be as generous as they can in making their commitment. We have a wide range of pledge amounts, reflecting that as a congregation we are an economically diverse community. Indeed, some people pledge more because they realize that for others a much smaller pledge is a significant and generous one. We are in this together.

When you see the pledge card, you’ll see the suggestion that we think of our pledge in terms of a percentage of our anticipated total income. This has been a helpful practice for me, and I began learning it (at a fairly low percentage level) as a new UU and newly employed 20-something a long time ago in a church far away from here.

My percentage level has grown, and my feelings of connection, generosity, gratitude and personal mission have grown. I look at my charitable and church giving in total, and every year strive to give away 10-12% of my income to causes and organizations that feed me spiritually and put my values and hopes into practice.

To UUSS I’ll pledge 5% of my income for 2009-10. In addition to a church pledge, I give yearly to both of our our UU theological schools (www.sksm.edu and www.mlts.edu) and a number of other UU-related organizations (www.uusc.org , for example), and to public radio, health, human rights, hunger and arts organizations.

Why am I’m telling you all this? Well, I just sent my records off to my tax preparer and it’s all fresh in my mind. I also wish to thank you, because it’s your money I’m giving away! (At least it has been since I started here on August 1.) Your generosity supports my income, which enables me not only to eat, sleep and get around but also to support organizations that make a difference in the world. I didn’t use to think I could give away this much of my income, but I’ve learned that I can, and it makes me feel grateful and blessed to do so.

I have faith that as the nation goes through these economically tough times, we at UUSS will be here for one another.

I have faith that we all will do what we can to stretch ourselves and support the values we care about and strengthen this congregation which cares deeply about us and our world.

Thank you for the many blessings you’ve brought to my life so far!

Sermon: What Do We Know About Jesus?

[If it's Palm Sunday it must be time for the annual Unitarian sermon on Jesus.]

What Do We Know About Jesus?
April 5, 2009
Palm  Sunday                              UU Society of Sacramento

Hymns:
“Wake Now My Senses,” “I’ve Got Peace Like a River,” “We’ll Build a Land.”

Story for the Children (among others): The Good Samaritan
Jesus was a teacher who lived 2,000 years ago.  He told people that all God asked was to love God and to love your neighbor as yourself.  One day someone said:  “What do you mean by neighbor?  [Ask children.]  Like right next door, or the whole town, or only the people who are just like me?”
Jesus answered with a story.  One day a man was walking on a road outside his town.  Some robbers attacked him, beat him up, took his money, and threw him in a ditch.  These were the days before paramedics and ambulances, or cars of any kind.  So he just lay there in pain.  Before long a man from his region was walking toward town.  The man was important–a priest, religious leader–dressed in his best clothes.  He heard the victim’s groans and saw him.  He could tell they were from the same religion, but he was dressed up and in a hurry, so he walked to the other side of the road and passed on by.
Some time later another man came walking by.  This man was a Levite, a special person in his religion, with many responsibilities.  He heard the victim’s cries, and looked over at him.  They were also from the same religion.  But the Levite had lots to do, so he walked to the other side of the road and passed on by.
More time passed.  A third man came walking by.  This man wasn’t from the same place as the victim, he was a Samaritan, someone from Samaria, a distance away.
He was from a different ethnic group from the victim and a different religion.  They were strangers to each other.  He knew that people like the man in the ditch hated Samaritans and thought bad things about them. Why help this guy?  It might not be safe!  But the man was moaning so badly.  So he picked him up, put the man on his own donkey, and brought him into town.  He took him to an inn, and rented him a room.  He cleaned him up and fed him.  The Samaritan had to leave, but he said he’d come back in a few days.  He told the innkeeper, “Here’s some money.  If the man has need of anything before I return, please provide it  for him.”  And he left.
After Jesus told this story, he asked:  Now which of those three people knew what a neighbor truly is?  [Ask children.]  Yes, I agree with you.  It was the man who took the time to help out.  Jesus said, “Okay, now try to live that way.”  Thank you.

Reading: Naomi Shihab Nye:  “I Feel Sorry for Jesus” (from Antioch Review Spring 1998, p. 206)

INTRO:  In the Christian calendar this is the season of Lent, 40 days which begin with Ash Wednesday and end on Easter.  The 40 days mark the time that Jesus of Nazareth spent in the desert wilderness, before his ministry began.  Today’s reading is a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, a Palestinian American who lives in Texas.

Sermon:

In the name of Jesus Christ, countless activists, artists, teachers, social service providers, volunteers and philanthropists have given of themselves to improve human lives and add beauty to our world.  Also in his name, soldiers, kings and religious leaders have committed crimes against humanity. Who was the man whom so many have called Messiah, Son of God, Savior?  Who is he to you?
In brief, Jesus of Nazareth was a traveling prophet, teacher and healer.  He made radical statements about religion, politics, money and human relationships.  Living in Palestine under Roman Rule, he had a brief ministry, and was executed by the authorities when he was 33.  His disciples continued to feel his presence alongside them and they spread reports of the resurrection of his body.
How do we know this?  We have nothing Jesus wrote down. The sayings of Jesus, the stories he told, and episodes from his life originally were passed down through word of mouth. Since few people had access to written materials, oral tradition was the way they learned things and passed them on. The people who wrote the New Testament Gospel books had never met Jesus. The earliest manuscripts of the Gospels that scholars have identified were written from 35 to 70 years after Jesus’ death.

Scholars have uncovered evidence of alternative Gospels, but these did not make it into the official, traditional version of the Holy Bible.  About 130 years after Jesus’ death, St. Irenaeus said that the only true Gospels were the four books that bore the names of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.  By the third century most Christian communities agreed on the books of the New Testament, including the Gospels.

I’ve just told you more than most people know.  In a recent survey, a majority of Americans could not name one of the four Gospels.  Even large numbers of believing Christians are Biblically illiterate.  Author Stephen Prothero writes:  “In one survey of high school students, most evangelicals did not recognize that ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit’ is from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.”   Furthermore, some students thought that Sodom and Gomorrah of the Old Testament were husband and wife.
I confess that even though I was brought up a Protestant Christian I didn’t read much of the Bible until I was in theological school, when I had to read it very fast.  Since then I’ve enjoyed going back to it.
Why should we care who Jesus was?  For one thing, Christianity remains the dominant religious culture of this country.  There’s no shortage of people, churches and mass media telling us what to think about Jesus.
If we don’t get to know the Bible for ourselves, we put ourselves and our children at the mercy of people who make it fit their own agendas.  If we don’t answer for ourselves the question “Who is Jesus,” we leave him at the mercy of those who would use him as a weapon.
This religious tradition of ours is a product of heresies and controversies about the nature of Jesus of Nazareth.  In the late 1700s, the first Unitarians in the United States argued that Jesus was fully human, and his life was proof of the dignity of human nature, and an example for us to follow.  At the same time, the first Universalists were preaching that Jesus was the messenger of divine love; showing that God was a forgiving parent, not cruel tyrant. Our forbears in faith knew their Bible. Yet they had to defend themselves against charges that they were not Christian.  Nowadays, I’d say, a majority of UUs would agree with this charge, even if we sing “Silent Night” by candle light or get up early next Sunday for an Easter Sunrise Service.
It is the faith of many believers that the Bible shows what Jesus said, word for word.  Starting in the 1800s, however, scholars began studying the diverse influences on the books of the Bible, noting that they were written in different historical periods. Their studies of Gospel manuscripts revealed the similarities and contradictions among the four books, and the intended audience and sources of each.
Since 1985, a group called the Jesus Seminar has published books about the Bible and early Christianity.  Seminar scholars make the case for taking a lot of words out of Jesus’ mouth that the Gospel scribes put in.
In the words of the Seminar’s Marcus Borg, the Gospels contain at least two voices.  One is the pre-Easter Jesus; the second voice is the testimony of the post-Easter community, which felt his ongoing presence in their lives.
Sorting out the voices is helpful, but both voices deserve to be heard—Jesus the man and the Jesus in the hearts of those who lived barely a generation after him.

In the year 324, Roman Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity and made it the state religion.  Thus he converted what had been a religion of the powerless into one aligned with power.  The Jesus who had promised, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God,” became the icon of an empire.  Over time the Jewish teacher became an excuse for genocidal Crusades, pogroms, and colonial ventures.
The Gospels emerged long before Constantine. They reflect the purpose of Jesus’ ministry before the powerful took on the mantle of his name. They reflect the impressions Jesus made on his followers, and their faith in him.
In the words of writer Marilynne Robinson, variations among the Gospel narratives are differences of art, not uncertainties of history.  The stories capture the truth of Jesus in the way a painter captures the truth of another person in a portrait.  In Robinson’s words, the writers of the Gospels try “to preserve a sense of Jesus’ presence . . . to achieve likeness rather than precision.”

And what is that likeness?  How do the Gospel writers present him?  Here are some snapshots of Jesus that matter to me.  I note in advance that personal savior or Jewish Messiah is not one of them.
Jesus was a Jew, as were his 12 disciples. Yet the Gospel of John portrays “the Jews” as enemies of Jesus.  This has troubled fair-minded Christians and has fueled anti-Semites.  It’s important to note, however, that the writers of the Gospels all were Jewish Christians.  The hostility in the book reflects the competing beliefs and practices among different early Christian communities, all of which were led by Jews.  In addition, it shows the tensions between the growing movement of Christian Jews and non-Christian Jews.

Jesus was a healer. In many stories, he tells afflicted people that they are now healed, without doing anything to them.  He says:  “Your faith has restored you.” Sometimes, however, he does touch those who come near him.  In one story, he mixes dirt with spit and rubs it on a blind man’s eyes.  It takes two applications to bring back complete sight.  I don’t know what to make of all this!  But often after a healing, Jesus tells the person:  “Go and sin no more.”  Perhaps he is lifting their burdens of guilt, allowing them to walk once more, to move forward into life.  After encountering him, they see anew, they live again.

Jesus was a religious rebel. In one episode, a crowd is pressing around him and he feels power go out of him.  He turns and asks, who touched me?  Nobody says anything for a while.  Then a woman throws herself on the ground and confesses.  She’s been hemorrhaging blood for years, and she thought some of Jesus’ healing energy would help.  Just speaking to a woman to whom he is not related, in that culture, is not allowed. Even worse, to touch or be touched by a woman discharging blood is a violation of Jewish purity laws.  Yet he does not condemn her; he confirms her faith and tells her she’s healed.

Jesus was a boundary-breaking social radical. The great mass of people were ruled by a small elite of Roman officials and their enforcers, including tax collectors and soldiers, whom the people despised and feared. In the Gospels, Jesus hangs out with them, goes to dinner, treats them with dignity.  To befriend these employees of the state… would be a scandal to the others living under the Empire.  But Jesus does more than accept these characters, he urges them to change their ways.  To a Roman soldier, he says:  stop extorting money from the people, no more intimidation and abuse! To the tax collector: stop cheating and stealing from people, apply your tax rates fairly!

Early in his ministry, Jesus is telling a parable to a crowd.  His mother and brothers show up but can’t get through.  Someone brings him a message, “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you.”  He says no and points to his friends.  “Here are my mother and brothers and sisters.  My family is made up of those who hear what God wants, and do it.”  Back then, family ties were a matter of survival. The family was the foundation of society.  In spite of that Jesus says “Obedience is thicker than Blood.”  He can be harsh.

Jesus’ followers include women to whom he was not related, a violation of their culture.  He sits in the home of Martha and Mary.  Martha is busy with housework, and she’s upset that her sister is deep in conversation with Jesus.  Jesus says:  Martha, you worry too much.  You need to slow down.  Your sister knows what’s important!  This episode shows that religious matters should no longer be limited to men.  If the Gospel writers wanted to downplay this gender-inclusiveness, they would have given all the good roles to men. Yet it is women who stay at the foot of Jesus’ cross till the bitter end.  It is women who find his tomb empty on Easter morning.  The 12 male disciples, in contrast, repeatedly lose faith in him, misunderstand him, and fall asleep on the job.

Jesus was a trickster; catching people off guard. His pronouncements turn the status quo upside down.  He says, “The last shall be first, and the first shall be last!” The Sermon on the Mount is a series of aphorisms.  These are short statements that need no explanation.  You hear one and say, “Of course!” But the aphorisms of Jesus are the exact opposite of what people would expect: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” What?!  Under this Empire?  Will we ever see the day? “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  Wow!  I sure hope he’s right!

Jesus was a leader. Early in the story, he collects 12 disciples to follow him, telling fishermen to drop their nets.  He entreats sons and husbands to leave their homes, to join him in his traveling ministry.
Jesus was a servant.  In the Gospel of John, during the Last Supper, the night before he is arrested, Jesus humbles himself by washing the feet of his disciples.

Jesus was a martyr. In the Palm Sunday story, he enters Jerusalem riding on a mule, as people wave palm branches and lay them on the road in front of him.  They call out Hosannah, praising him as a king.  Yet he knows his return to the city means death.  Soon he is convicted and hung on a cross—state-sponsored torture.

Jesus was a prophet. In some passages he proclaims the end of the world.  His followers know only a world of oppression–political, economic, social and religious.  He promises God’s rescue of the righteous, and punishment of the oppressors. The lowly will be exalted and the proud and powerful will be brought low.
Jesus calls for repentance.  The end is coming; God is coming.  So, how should we live?   What must we do–Stop drinking?  No sex?  Pray more?  Nope!  If you have two tunics, share your extra tunic with someone who doesn’t have any.  Give away your extra food to people who need it.  Love your neighbor as yourself, turn the other cheek, don’t cheat others, give all you have to the poor.

These snapshots are how I see Jesus. What do you see?  Who is Jesus to you?

Recently I led a class on the Gospels at this church, and 18 people joined me.  I asked them the question, “Who is Jesus to you?” and asked them to read their answers to the class.  One wrote:  “Jesus to me was a charismatic man of his time and place in the world who had [as his purpose] living and teaching a way of treating and accepting all human beings with love no matter who they were or how different they were from him.  This … teaching … is still applicable today.  A way of life I try to emulate.”

Another member said that as a religious leader Jesus  was “confident, yet often self-questioning….  He was not clearly understood by his closest companions.  He stood up to the leaders of his country and his ancestral faith.”  This member said she saw Jesus through her long-ago Sunday school lessons, from seeing “Jesus Christ Superstar” on stage, and from taking another look at the Gospels together with us.

Through what lenses do you see Jesus?
I see him through the words of the Gospel writers but also the words of modern scholars, and my teachers and preachers.  I see him through the lenses of my own privilege and bias.  When I take him seriously, his ethical teachings prod my conscience and poke my complacency.  His parables challenge my comfortable assumptions.

In one Gospel episode, someone asks Jesus who he is.  He replies:  “Who do people say I am?”–answering a question with a question.  I can’t be certain I’ve got Jesus right.  Many people, of course, would say I’ve got him all wrong.  But I’ll keep looking, keep reading, keep talking with others.  Although his name has been misused and his teachings violated for over 2,000 years, the core values of Jesus show through.  His ministry was the risky work of healing, teaching, compassion,and forgiveness.

His own disciples didn’t get him right.  No wonder that he continues to puzzle us when we read the Gospels!
To look at him can upset one’s certainty, or it ought to.  Jesus seems to ask:  Can you really be so sure of what you think about me? About God? About yourself?  About human relationship?

He seems to invite everyone to let go of the easy answers, and keep asking questions.
So may we live, and so may it be.

Report to Congregational Business Meeting 5/17/09

UUSS Family Minister’s Report

to Congregational Business Meeting of May 17, 2009

As noted in my Consulting Ministry Contract with UUSS, I’m giving you a report of my observations and activities in the areas in my portfolio as Family Minister. The headings below show you those major areas.  Since this is a public weblog, I try not to use last names.  I am not taking credit for everything here, but I report on what I’ve observed as well as worked on.  

I have worked with the Lead Minister in supporting the Board of Trustees, Program Council, Religious Services Committee, Stewardship Campaign, the Association Sunday and Save a Crab fundraising appeals, Family Promise hospitality, Peace Vigil, Vision Into Action task force and Master Planning Process.  In addition to staff meetings and frequent conversations with Janet (our extraordinary Religious Education Assistant) and others on the wonderful UUSS staff, I’ve  met nearly weekly with the Lead Minister and Business Administrator.  I’ve preached at least once a month, worked with Doug on every All-Ages Worship service, and was happy to cover pulpit duties during his brief month of sabbatical leave.

The Office sends out a Midweek Ministerial Message from me, with highlights, invitations and reminders of important activities and any breaking news or updates as well as some Family Minister reflections.  My purpose in using this form of (not-so-new) New Media is to promote communication among members, help church friends and guests learn how to get connected, and encourage greater participation by everyone in the offerings of UUSS.  Most but not all articles relate to program areas in my portfolio.   

All-Ages Activities and Multi-Generational Community

This was a priority for the Family Minister position.   Even so, ministry across the generations is primarily your ministry.  Its success is in your hands–rather, it is in your presence with one another and even in going beyond your comfort zones.  It  benefits from the sharing of diverse talents and the spirit of creativity here.  I hope to line up a team of 2-4 folks to work with me on this for 2009-10.

The heart of our community is in our weekly worship services.  All children and youth (younger than high school) spend the first 20 minutes in worship before departing for RE programs every Sunday.  Doug and I have co-led all-ages worship almost once a month as well as on Christmas Eve.  We hope for the fall to formalize a training and scheduling process for children to be regular (and duly recognized) lighters of the Chalice. The Coming of Age worship service is the result of lots of cross-generational support.  I hope for even more youth and child faces and voices in the pulpit in the coming year.

The biennial Coming of Age program paired 6 of our 9th or 10th grade UU youth with adult mentors for several months of group meetings, Saturday retreats, a Ropes Course, four fundraising bake sales, a raffle and a hoped-for UU Heritage Trip to Boston in June.   I trust that the contributions of time by our mentors have made a difference in the UU identity of our youth.  Moreover, the many, many hours of dedicated, thorough and creative Coming of Age coordination by David and Ginny have been amazing!  

The grand and fun April 11 Talent Show was a fundraising success and also a great example of all-ages community building on the crew as well as in the cast and in the audience.  

All-ages social activities included  Thanksgiving dinner, a well-attended Holiday Crafts and Tree-Trimming Potluck Party and a fun post-inauguration party.  We’ve met 6 times for a midweek Family Friendly Restaurant Dinner at Fresh Choice; attendance has ranged from 7 to 45 people, representing all age groups.  

I’ve made a chart of all the program or activity areas I could think of and noted, month by month, what’s been going on that brings all ages together.  The largest gap is in service projects.

However, opposition to Proposition 8 brought out UUs of all ages and family types to rally in the rain (and a bit in sunshine), among other forms of social witness.  The new Community Garden provides opportunities for intergenerational serving and learning, and I’ve seen a number of youth helping with food or entertainment for Family Promise guests.  If I’ve left out something important, it was not intentional, so please let me know.

Child/Youth Religious Education  

I’m amazed at the creativity, loyalty and care that our many volunteer leaders show to the youth and children who participate in RE at UUSS.  I’m also grateful for the wisdom, vision and hard work of RE Assistant Janet and the RE Committee.  We are having a retreat June 6 to reorganize the RE Committee and set priorities in anticipation of having a new chair and more committee members.  Most classes this year have dealt with nature, animals, plants, ecological inter-dependence, conservation, and waste treatment.  Junior high youth heard about non-UU traditions, visited neighboring houses of worship,  and they practiced silent meditation at nearly every session.  The Senior High Youth Group’s dedicated advisors have facilitated discussion of personal and social issues of importance to the youth.  Recently we hired a new child care provider to replace one who resigned in April; we staff Room 11 with two people.  Their outside play area soon will have a newer, safer, funner piece of equipment.

We have had about 70 youth and children registered and an average attendance in the low 30s, counting new guests.  The infrequent attendance is a sign of the times and common to many moderate and liberal churches.  It’s my impression that in larger RE classes here infrequent attendance by the learners (or the leaders) does not cause as much of a lack of continuity or energy as it can in classes that have small enrollments to begin with.  

This year the Our Whole Lives faith-and-sexuality education course met on several Sunday afternoons for 4th and 5th graders; thanks to Sally and David for co-leading.  Next fall UUSS will offer OWL for junior high-age youth (the longest version of OWL) and another (shorter) one for 10th to 12th graders.  Training by our UU Pacific Central District takes place in August. 

The biggest news is that we plan to launch a new model for RE programs for children from grades 1-3 and grades 4-5.  It’s called Spirit Play, and it’s a story-centered program adapted for UUs from a Montessori-inspired program.  The goal is spiritual reflection, creative expression, and community building.  For more information see my blog postings here on Spirit Play or the official website:  www.spiritplay.net.  The author will be here all day May 16 to train our volunteers and staff as well as some from Stockton, Davis and Palo Alto.

Membership Committee and Newcomer Orientations

We scheduled five Newcomer Orientation Courses (Saturday mornings or two Monday nights) and  cancelled two to wait for a larger number. Alice and I co-led them with guest stars from the board and staff.   We had well over 20 people in two classes and 8 in another class.  Most have joined UUSS.  Thanks to Virginia you can see their pictures and bios hanging in the lobby.  However, a number of members have died, moved away, resigned, or let their membership status lapse by not making a pledge or giving a financial contribution in a year’s time.  This has flattened out the net growth.  In any case, the enthusiasm of new members is obvious and we are blessed by having several visitors (from all age groups) at every worship service.

Adult Religious Education

We’ve had a wealth of offerings this year, with Adult Enrichment brochures for fall, winter, and spring.  We need to recruit not just more courses and course leaders for the coming church year–we need a whole new Adult Enrichment Committee.  Glory has gravitated to the garden project and Kathryn will join the Board of Trustees, assuming your election of her May 17.  

My personal priority for Adult Religious Education programs (as well as Child and Youth Religious Education) is not the transmission of facts per se but the building of authentic and enriching relationships within a religious community and the deepening of our spiritual lives.

 I hope UUSS can offer more courses that invite our theological reflection and spiritual creativity, make accessible for us all the sources of our religious tradition, and deepen our understanding of our heritage as well as current expressions of Unitarian Universalism.  However, this does not mean excluding courses that teach new skills or deal with issues that on their face do not seem to be related to spirituality.  What it means (I hope) is that class leaders and participants can reflect on the relevance of the topic to our spiritual and religious heritage and our congregational mission.  Most topics can be viewed through a spiritual lens, and the more we do that the more we can distinguish what we offer from the offerings of an adult education center, community college, or public lecture series.  

Going Forward with You

Many thanks to the Search Committee and the Board of Trustees for hiring me last year.  It’s been a joy and an honor to get to know and serve with our lay leaders and staff.  I’ve been grateful to work in ministry with my friend and colleague, Doug Kraft, and to see the mutual affection between Doug and the members of this church.  Recently a Trustee headed up a task force to evaluate both this ministry position and my work this year in the role.  My contract goes from last August through this July.

Depending on the final results of the pledge drive (stewardship campaign) and the members’ action on the proposed budget, the Board and I are likely to talk about renewing the contract for another year.  (Of course, the outcome of this contract-renewal process really depends on whether I have a full roster of Religious Education volunteers for the fall!)

For all the ways that you support and strengthen this congregation of all ages, thank you.   For your gifts of money, time, talent and love to UUSS, thank you.  Your generosity makes a difference!

In faith,

Roger

Family Minister

Spirt Play training day–great success

Saturday from 9-5 the UU Society of Sacramento hosted a training by Nita Penfold, D.Min, the  author/coordinator of the Spirit Play religious education method for UU congregations.  Due to the expense of brining her from Massachusetts, I had promoted it to district religious educators and ended up with a long waiting list for the precious 15 spots.  

We had 8 from this church, three each from two other Central Valley congregations and an MRE from the Bay Area.  

Wow!  The training was good and the method appealing for many reasons.  What struck me the most was how deeply it moved the teachers and RE professionals.  

We experienced a model classroom with Nita as Storyteller and Janet as Doorkeeper, and the rest of us as UU kids.  In spite of a few post-prandial nodding heads during a slide show, we left inspired and renewed at 5 PM.  I have earlier postings on the blog in which I pitch Spirit Play to our members and explain the approach.

The big work now is ramping up to offer this story-based program in the fall (likely for 1st-3rd graders and 4th-5th graders).  This involves dedicating a classroom and having enough shelves and cabinets for the individual story sets, and then making items for as many story sets as we’d like to start with.  Nita has given us hundreds of stories with notes about materials to make or buy for each story set (which is to be kept in a basket or nice box), but she encouraged us to ask all our members for suggestions, including those from congregational history:  ”What story do you think that our kids should be sure to learn in their participation in RE?”  

 We will demonstrate, explain and promote the launching of Spirit Play to our parents, lay leaders, artists, artisans, inventors and various handy members so they (I mean you!) can help to get our story elements together.  Two DREs and I may see if our three churches can share the work of making the story sets ; it’s easier to make three copies of a few story sets than making every set ourselves.

We also seek to invite and train a few more Story Tellers as well as several of the special assistants known as Door Keepers.  

Orientation sessions will be crucial for parents and children, as Spirit Play is not just another curriculum.  It is a different method altogether.  It includes special rituals as we create a sacred space and time in the classroom.

I expect this to be an inspiring and memorable RE ministry for our younger children as well as our volunteers.  Moreover, it promises to be  sustainable and broadly-supported program in our congregation.  

Many thanks to those who gave of their time to attend and to my coach and colleague Michelle F. for having recommended this method of RE ministry to me and then welcoming two of our lay leaders on a Sunday visit to Oakland.

To Be Killed by a Mockingbird

Yesterday Doug told me there was a mockingbird in trees in the parking lot that had dive bombed him twice. I had not seen it.  He guessed it had a nest somewhere around here and was trying to protect it.  This morning as I walked back home from the Y a very large crow was on a power line squawking, to me apparently.  I stopped under it and talked to it.  Then it came flying in a big circle down toward me, squawking and then making a cirlce back up to a big tree.

 So of course I thought of “The Birds,” even though that was filmed over a hundred miles west of here, on the coast.  Today after lunch I was in the parking lot and something whooshed by me.  I turned around and saw the mockingbird on the line.  Then I went on my way and it followed after me.  When I realized how close it had come to my head I screamed a very embarrassing scream.  Now I am hiding in my office.

PS–make that three times. I just went over to the office.  I told Linda about being attacked. She said it had come after her yesterday.  I left the office and decided to walk out in the open area of the parking lot to watch it.  But before I had taken 5 steps it had flown by the back of my head.  I could hear its wings moving.  I screamed an even more embarrassing scream, which they could hear indoors.  Now I am hiding again.

Day 1–UU Youth Heritage Trip to Boston

Youth and Mentors in SMF Airport Ready for Boston

Day 2 — UU Heritage Trip to Boston

Lights out at 1 AM–no exceptions!  That was last night, after an all-day flight.  Even though it was only 10 PM in our bodies, all 5 of us guys slept quite well in 2 sets of bunk beds plus one twin bed in a 12 x 12 room.  I assume it was roomier for the ladies, since there were only 3 of them.  Everybody got up by 7:30, cleaned up and headed down to the youth hostel’s kitchen to make ourselves bagels and fruit loops.  None of the kids drank any coffee, which makes it more amazing that they followed me all over and listened to me drone on about the history of the place.  We strolled Boston Common (the oldest public park in the US, originally where Puritans grazed their cattle and hanged Quakers and other heretics), the Public Garden (adjacent to the Common but established 2 centuries later with gorgeous landscaping:  trees, blooming flowers, a lagoon with swan paddle boat rides and real swans too, and monuments to famous Unitarians like Edward Everett Hale and other notable Americans, to the protestors who died in the 1770 Boston Massacre (all five of them), to those with family or other Massachusetts connections who perished on Sept. 11, 2001, on one of the planes that took off from here or from their crashes in NYC and DC).

On Beacon Hill we visited the main building of UUA Headquarters at 25 Beacon Street, right next to  the gold-domed State House (where I pointed out bronzes of Daniel Webster, President Kennedy, Unitarian Horace Mann).  In the UUA we saw the William Ellery Channing landing and his portrait, among those of other 19th century notables) and the Dana McLean Greely library, commemorating the 1st president of the newly merged UUA (1961 to 1968, spanning the most violent and triumphant years of the Civil Rights Movement), and the Eliot Chapel, where a bronze relief commemorated Jimmy Lee Jackson, a young black civil rights worker killed by police in Selma during a march while trying to protect his grandmother; Viola Liuzzo, a white Unitarian from Detroit who transported black men in her car between Selma and Montgomery and was murdered by the KKK, and the Rev. James Reeb, a young Boston minister who went down to Selma for the Voting Rights March to Montgomery with other UU clergy–the night before the march they were attacked by whites after dining in a black restaurant, and Reeb died from the blows.

We met  some young staffers–one from the UUA Office of Bisexual, Lesbian, Gay and Transgender Concerns, who spoke to us about the Welcoming Congregation program, which our congregation had entered several years ago, and two college-age interns from the UUA Youth Programs Office.  The highlight of the day (at least for the 3 adults) was to attend the UUA staff chapel, which happens every Tuesday at 11:30 AM.  Today’s preacher with the Rev. William Sinkford, giving his farewell homily to the staff as he looks forward to leaving office next week when we elect a new president at General Assembly.  Bill completes two 4-year terms.  It was an emotional time for him and many colleagues in the room and those field staff who were watching and participating by phone and internet through Persony (they even sent Joys and Sorrows for the Boston colleagues to hear and light a candle).  

We had lunch at a deli and wandered by the old City Hall which originally was the site of the Boston Latin School (which Ben Franklin dropped out of at age 11).  Now it holds several eateries, stores and offices.  After lunch I took them down to the plaza which faces the Old South Meeting House, where Sam Adams and 5,000 other colonists began protesting the British Crown’s tax on tea imports to America and effectively began the Revolution in 1773.  But the striking thing was a memorial to the victims of The Great Hunger, which is what Irish called the potato famine of 1845-50.  Of 8.5 million in Ireland, 1 million starved to death and 2 million fled across the sea to America, but many of them died at sea in crowded and unworthy ships.  Why the famine?  A fungal infestation of crops, English colonial control and absentee landlords in England, who demanded and received rental payment in grain while the peasants died of hunger.  In Boston the early immigrants lived in damp, dirty, crowded conditions near the waterfront and where many infant and other lives were lost.  Help Wanted signs in store windows said Irish Need Not Apply.  The memorial bronze sculptures depict three haggard and agonizing peasants on one side and a group of proud, upstanding Irish Americans, having finally attained inclusion and power.  President Kennedy was descended from refugees from the Great Hunger.  

After a gift-shop and Starbucks stop, we went back to the Garden and rested till our 90 minute tour at Arlington Street Church, across from which stands a bronze statue of its founding minister, William Ellery Channing, the “father of American Unitarianism.”  The church is based on an Anglican church design and features family pew boxes with doors throughout the sanctuary main floor (paid pew boxes were originally passed down the generations of a family but eventually democratized by church leaders (not without controversy), becoming first-come, first-served pew boxes).  Louis Comfort Tiffany’s factory made about 13 gorgeous, green-blue-and-white stained glass windows (featuring New Testament scenes but none of the miracles of Christ.  This was in the late 1800s  but the glassmakers went out of business before finishing the job, according to our guide.  (But he also said that Channing’s famous Baltimore Sermon was 2 decades later than it was, so I’m not sure.)  This politically conservative but spiritually radical church did also become a politically radical one in the 1900s:  Civil Rights, Women’s Rights, Reproductive Rights, El Salvadoran political-refugee sanctuary programs, GLBT Rights.  Notable was the Vietnam-era ceremony inviting young men to burn their draft cards together in protest, after which the church gave them extended sanctuary so they could avoid arrest, our guide told us.  Openly lesbian minister KIm Crawford Harvie, known for her charismatic preaching, has been serving ASC 20 years.  

This is all build-up to the highlights of the day, and I don’t mean dinner at the bar made famous by the Cheers TV series in the 1980s-90s, which the youth liked even though they had never heard of it and didn’t know the names of any of the stars.  

No…our ASC guide took us to the organ and choir loft, where Nate tried his hand at the powerful pipe organ’s keyboard, improvising nicely, after which Jessica played Fur Elise.  They were only briefly perplexed by the many pedals beneath their feet, since organ pedals play notes, unlike the two piano pedals (or so I think).   The youth also got to stand in the enormous high pulpit of Dr. Channing (moved from the original church building when the congregation moved to this one).

Surely the highlight was the trip up the creaky steps (ladders nailed down, really) up into the steeple, stopping in the bell tower.  About 14 ropes came through pulleys and were fastened to a board with numbers.  Each rope, when pulled hard, would ring a bell with a particular note, in a room up higher in the tower.  He took us up to see the bells themselves but a bout of vertigo caused me to stop half way and descend tremblingly back to the room with the ropes.  The others came down after enjoying the priceless views and the youth randomly rang different bell ropes, causing a cacophony that must have had the upscale neighbors scratching or shaking their heads.  Then each of us was told to grab a numbered rope.  The guide called out a series of numbers and we pulled as we heard ours.  The tune was Morning Has Broken, but the numbers came too slowly for it to sound familiar.  Then Tina took over and read us our numbers fast enough so that Cat Stevens or any self-respecting Welsh person walking down Boylston Street would have recognized it.

After the Cheers pub food, this crowd of pilgrims with weary limbs and aching feet made its way back to this bunk-bed United Nations of youth.  It’s 12:30 AM and I am the oldest of all the reading, typing, surfing and chattering lodgers in this kitchen (except for Larry King on the TV set), and I am going to turn in.

Day 3 — UU Youth Heritage Trip to Boston

The young men did not bound out of their bunks at 7:00 AM and I merely stumbled out.  But I fortified myself in the hostel’s kitchen with two mugs of coffee.   Most everyone made it down to eat but one was missing.  I ran up to grab my jacket and found a towel-clad member of our room sitting in the common room nearby, waiting for one of us to show up and let him in.  He had left his key-card in the room, something I have feared doing in the middle of the night every time I stay in a hostel.  

We took the MBTA Red Line train across the beautiful (thanks to sunny and clear skies) Charles River and arrived at Harvard Square.  We met our generous guide, Gloria, a UU lay leader from First Parish Cambridge and librarian at the Divinity School’s Andover-Harvard Library.  

First stop was her church, founded in the 1600s as  Puritan Congregational church so students at the college could worship and hear Christian preaching, and Unitarian since the 1830s.  In 1648 the parish hosted a conference of churches at which they adopted the Cambridge Platform, establishing the form of polity (governance) as congregational (i.e., autonomous and not subject to a denominational hierarchy); this is why UU churches have congregational governance.  The college (then university) held commencement in the church till there was not enough room.  

Across the street is a large statue of Charles Sumner, a non-Unitarian and the most abolitionist US Senator of his day, who was beaten by a colleague with a cane on the Senate floor and disabled.  Yesterday we saw a standing sculpture of Sumner in the Public Garden.  There had been a contest for a statue to commemorate this great man.  The judges selected the seated statue but then discovered that the sculptor was a woman (Unitarian, I think).  It was inappropriate for a lady to sculpt a man’s legs, they thought, so the runner-up statue was the one placed in Boston’s Public Garden, and Cambridge got the real winner.  

Gloria walked us to Harvard Yard (where we rubbed the bronze shoe of the “John Harvard, Founder” statue, though the likeness is of one of John’s relatives (nobody knows what John looked like) and he was not the founder, just the donor of Harvard College’s first library books.  We visited Memorial Church, the campus church whose current Preacher is Peter Gomes, the liberal Christian scholar and author.  Plaques commemorate alumni lost in the Civil War.

We saw three buildings of the Divinity School and entered two of them, Divinity Hall, the original building.  Inside and upstairs is a small chapel where the 1838 graduating class invited recently-resigned minister Ralph Waldo Emerson to give the Address.  (The students and faculty were all Unitarian Christians by that time, as the Orthodox Christians had built their own school after losing control of the faculty).  His challenge to the staid and stale church scandalized the faculty and the community; the faculty felt the need to distance themselves from him in order to assert their own Christian bona fides.  

Gloria took us in the library and into an archives room where a major current project is the cataloguing and digitizing of the records of the Unitarian Service Committee, especially its early work in helping to rescue European refugees of the Nazis, even before WW II was officially declared.  We saw many black and white pictures, including those of children in orphanages.  the youth seemed to be most interested in a display of a few pages from a Medieval illuminated manuscript of a Catholic order of Mass.

Gloria was so generous with her time, and so enthusiastic and informative, and it was great to meet her.  She sent us off toward a burrito place for quick lunch, as we were headed to a 12:15 worship service in King’s Chapel back over in Boston.  We made it just in time for the flute and organ prelude and slipped into two of the pew boxes.  It was established by King James II in 1686 as an Anglican Church, but things got heated as the Empire became more oppressive.  King George’s Governor General sat in one pew box and Paul Revere sat nearby, as did George Washington when he was worshipping there.  After the colonists won the War of Independence the church lost half its members, the loyalists.  They hired James Freeman to be their minister and wanted to ordain him; he was a Congregationalist and theologically a unitarian, and the Anglican clergy and bishops refused to participate in his ordination.  This drove the church fully out of Anglicanism and on its way to Unitarian Christianity.  Freeman revised the Book of Common Prayer (the worship manual), taking out prayers for the King and inserting prayers for the U.S. Congress, and taking out references to Jesus as God rather than as God’s holy prophet.  But that manual hasn’t been revised much since the 1780s, and its language is a bit antique and beautiful (though hardly gender inclusive).  

Without us and an Episcopal youth group from Dallas, there would have been about 15 people at the  the half-hour service.  A hospital chaplain and church member gave a short homily on the Pentecost reading from the Acts of the Apostles, and spoke directly to the youth present at one point, hoping that they honor the spirit within each of them and nurture it.  I was pleasantly surprised that the youth were engaged in the hymn singing and responsive readings (“versicles”).  Today is the third Wednesday, so it was the day for communion at the end of the service; of course this is a ritual meal “in remembrance of Christ,” not in assertion of his divinity.  I had told our group in advance that I likely would get in line for communion and most of them went up too.  Most of us knelt together against the communion rail and received it together.  It was only later, during our personal tour, that we learned that Paul Revere had made that communion silver for this church–his church.  He had also melted down and recast its bell after a crack, making it the largest bell in Boston.  Kristin, tour director, gave us a fabulous history of the church and some of its famous and/or colorful members, not hiding the fact that it had been a socially elite congregation for much of its history.  Indeed, it was only in the 1970s that the church ended the family ownership and inheritance of box pews, and it did this through a buy-back program.  Also, there are plaques on the inside front wall commemorating 14 of the 16 members lost in the Civil War.  One of the missing (unmemorialized) members is Col. Robert Gould Shaw, of “Glory” fame, whose 54th Regiment is sculpted in bronze relief by Saint Gaudens on a wall in the Boston Common.  She said that his family had not given enough money to the church for him to score a mention on the plaque.  How embarrassing it must have been when he became so noted for having led the first African American army regiment.

Kristin showed us the downstairs crypt (which non-UU tourists can’t visit), including one with a brick out, and we could see an adult coffin, a child coffin, and  a collapsed coffin and some famous person’s femur  and pelvis.  I think it was Thomas Bullfinch, of Bullfinch’s Mythology.  

We headed out to the burying ground afterwards; it was established in 1630, and part of it was encroached upon in the 1680s when the Chapel was built. It holds the remains of the  English colony’s first governor, John Winthrop and a bunch of his descendants, as well as Elizabeth Pain, the wife of a sea merchant.  She was one of the two women who inspired the character of Hester Prynne in Hawthorne’s Boston-set novel The Scarlet Letter.  Incredible serendipity:  Tina had just begun reading the book on the plane, having just picked it up Sunday in our church’s used book store.   This cemetery is smaller and down the street from the one that holds Paul Revere and Ben Franklin.  

After a shopping/wandering spree (which I spent napping on a park bench in the Common) the group re-grouped at the Chapel, headed back to the hostel and then out for dinner (Wendy’s for some, Thai for others).  Then we headed to the theater district to see the Blue Man Group, a long running and lively show of multi-media performance art, cultural commentary and music, audience participation, and craziness.  Well worth seeing, if you haven’t yet.  It’s been around the US for at least 15 years and I never had.  We all loved it and nobody got sprayed on (by paint or twinkies), but Nate did get recruited to come and do one task, which was to shut off the circuit breaker and cut the power.  

It took place in the Charles Playhouse, a theater that was built in 1839 by “renowned architect Asher Benjamin” as the Fifth Universalist Church!  In 1864 it became the first Synagogue in Boston and during the Prohibition era it was a speakeasy.  

Thursday morning we head to Lexington and Concord and at night we go on a Ghosts and Graveyards tour of Boston.  

Okay, now go back to the link above and and read the Divinity School Address!

Mission to Utah—UUA General Assembly

I am staying in a big old lovely house 2 miles from the downtown hotels and convention center.  My  former intern has always been resourceful, and she and her husband found this house to rent online and recruited several other ministers to stay here and share the cost.  An added temptation is that she is a chef and maybe some day she will want to cook while we are here.  There are two straight clergy couples and four other people.  One couple is a mixed marriage:  he went to Starr King School for the Ministry  and she went to Meadville Lombard Theological School; he supports Peter Morales for UUA president and she supports Laurel Hallman.   

Yesterday I went for a ride around Salt Lake City with collegial friends Barb and Bill, who served the South Valley UU Church till 2006.  They showed me Salt Lake City’s century-old, New England-style First Unitarian Church (closer to where we are) as well as the neighborhood they used to live in.  The church is in a capital campaign to raise a few million for an expansion.  Sort of makes the small goal of $17,000 for the Entry Way Project back home seem very small, and quite doable.  

Today, Tuesday, is the day for the continuing education programs of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association.  Gotta catch the bus!

Barb was invited once by a female state senator from SLC to give the opening  blessing at the Utah legislature, thus being the first woman clergy person to do so.  On top of that, the senator told her afterwards that it was the first time the words “gay and lesbian” had been spoken publicly in that chamber!  Now there are at least two openly glbt legislators.

New UUA President elected

This is a press release that the UUA’s communications director just released.  I was surprised at the margin and sad at my candidate’s loss, as were all the others at the thank-you party Satuday night after the Ware Lecture.  Peter Morales is a dynamic and experienced leader, and both candidates have raised important issues in this energetic but respectful campaign between two accomplished ministers.
Note how significant is the number of absentee votes as a fraction of all votes cast. In some past UUA elections the winner has “won” even before showing up at GA because his campaign has locked up so many absentee votes in advance. Note also the “transition” period–less than 24 hours from election results to installation!  All other nominees were running in uncontested elections
Press release:(June 27, 2009 – Salt Lake City, Utah) – Rev. Peter Morales, senior
minister of Jefferson Unitarian Church in Golden, Colorado, today was
elected to be the eighth president of the Unitarian Universalist
Association of Congregations (UUA) at the Association’s General Assembly
in Salt Lake City.
Morales received a total of 2061 votes, 1020 of which were cast as
absentee ballots. His opponent, Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, formerly senior
minister of the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas, received a
total of 1481 votes, 827 of which were absentee ballots. Morales’
margin of victory was 580 votes.
Speaking of his aspirations for Unitarian Universalism, Rev. Morales
said, “I want to grow our faith, to reach all those people who are
looking for non-dogmatic, liberal religious community. I look forward to
working with partners in many other progressive and justice-seeking
religious groups. There are tremendous issues that we’ll be facing in
the coming years and we’re going to need one another.”
Rev. Morales, the first Latino leader of the UUA, will be installed in a
ceremony which concludes the General Assembly, at 6:30 PM (MDT) on
Sunday, June 28. Rev. Morales will succeed Rev. William G. Sinkford who
has served two four-year terms as President of the UUA.
See http://www.uua.org/news/newssubmissions/144235.shtml for the
complete story on Morales’ election. For uuworld.org’s coverage of the
Morales election, see http://uuworld.org/news/ga

Why Sunday Schools Are Closing in the USA

I recommend this article from the June 26 Wall Street Journal.  But here is a good summary from The Rev. Dr. Martin E. Marty’s online “Sightings” column:  Charlotte Hays in her “Houses of Worship” column reports on the decline in Sunday School attendance and the number of Sunday Schools nationally.  Is this because God is dead?  No— while boring experiences contribute, social factors are bigger.  Parental divorces unsettle Sunday arrangements for the children’s schedules, and soccer wins out over Jesus almost always.  Sunday sports and public celebrations are thus other phenomena which show that there are other sanctuaries for the “real religion” of millions.

My Reflections:

She notes that even when Protestant Sunday Schools were attended more regularly, they were unlikely to convey all the content and reflection necessary for a genuine formation in the faith.  Indeed, the youth with the highest level of religious literacy (both Judeo-Christian and of other world faiths) are those (of any faith or of none) who have attended private Catholic schools.  

I’m not sure that one year of a confirmation class (or Coming of Age in the UU faith) can make up for the absence of in-depth content and formation in  all the other years of youth.   Mormons instill loyalty and content by focusing on family life and making the family unit the basic one in the local church, or ward.  By maintaining a “bubble” of Mormon life and ownership of the Mormon heritage.   Jewish congregations have offered Sunday school Hebrew school or other courses for those preparing for their bar mitvah or bat mitzvah.   

Yet there are promising developments, such as Spirit Play for UUs, which is based on Godly Play.  It is a story-based method which does not depend on week-to-week continuity of attendance.  It promotes spiritual reflection, love of ritual and community-building.   Also, many congregations have done the hard work of promoting community across the generations–in worship attendance and leadership, in fellowship activities (i.e., fun), in social witness and service, and even in small group ministry.  I believe this cultivates an identity as a beloved member of a faith community and provides cross-generational experiences for elders, children, and parents, many of whose own family members are far away.

Technology and Ministry: Put Your Purpose First

At the 2009 UUMA Ministry Days I attended an excellent workshop by the Rev. Nate Walker, of 1st Unitarian Philadelphia, about our relationship with technology, especially emerging communication, presentation and social networking tools on the web.  I made a last-minute decision to attend this one instead of my pre-registered choice, hoping that it would not make me feel bad about my slow adoption of new technologies and overwhelmed by all the new stuff coming out.   His workshop met my hopes with grace and inspiration.

In the “introductions” segment, we all spoke about our relationship with tech as if it were a person.  It helped to see the range of comfort levels and that as many of us are late adopters as are early adopters.  He noted:  we are all in this together.  

He said we should not forget our spiritual natures, roles as spiritual leaders and commitment to spiritual practice.  Given all the other things ministers must manage and navigate, we do have it in our power to have an intentional and not harmful relationship with new technologies.  

Some people have a rule of not looking at email sooner than 12 hours since the last time they read or wrote emails.  Before we knew what had happened, Nate swore all us ministers to give up email for Lent next year.  We will need to alert and remind parishioners and colleagues well in advance of Ash Wednesday.   This doesn’t mean we can’t phone people and ask them to phone us or to meet with us in person.  (And, I might add, handwritten notes are still gratifying.)  I’m writing it here so I can remember my commitment.

He gave examples of how he and his church have used YouTube for pastoral messages (as when he was out of state last July when news came of the shootings in the Knoxville UU church), as well as for worship and religious education presentations.  They replaced their membership photo directory with an online directory (with Flicker, I think); this can be password protected as well as more easily updated.  

The most exciting project:  they provided video cameras and mikes to church children and youth, who conducted a series of interviews with church elders and other adults, asking questions like “What religion did you grow up in?”  All the clips were brief, which kept every one interesting.  This was a great tool for connecting children to adults in the congregation. 

He showed us the opening scene from the movie “Crash,” which was used for a dialogue on race and ethnicity.  Notable line:  ”We miss the touch so much tha twe crash into each other just to feel it.” 

 Of course, many churches now post and podcast sermons and other parts of worship services.  

The Mail Chimp program shows who comes to the church web site and why.  Google can track which pages of a web site are visited most frequently.  First Unitarian gets visitors from all states as well as 77 other countries.

His own Netiquette guidelines:

Real life does apply online.  Practice deep listening and loving speech, just as we try to do in person.  No expectations for a timely response on email.  Put out “flames” and do not participate in conflict by email.  Recognize conflicts but don’t try to resolve them online unless there is no other way to reach someone or have a conversation with them.  Respect people’s privacy.  Avoid sarcasm.  

We need to use the technology to help us enhance our ministries and not become slaves to technology for its own sake.  Hence, he asked us to identify and articulate our own sense of purpose.  When we are clear on that we can avoid being buffeted by all the new options and tools.

Growing and Global Spread of UUism: Leaders from Africa and Other Continents at General Assembly

We had a large and lively delegation of foreign UU leaders at the 2009 UUA General Assembly.

We welcomed the newly elected bishop of the Unitarian Church of Transylvania (Erdhely, in Hungarian), an ethnic Hungarian province in Romania where the first Unitarian churches emerged in the 1560’s.  Also in attendance was the young male minister (and his wife) who had spent the past school year as a Balazs Scholar at Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley.

We welcomed the new, young General Secretary of the Unitarian Union of Northeast India (from the Khasi Hills, in Meghalaya state).  His name is Helpme Mohrmen and he leads 60 congregations in a remote region; several of them have schools attached.  See a YouTube video of the area!

I was happy to meet three leaders from UU churches in Africa, here in the US for the first time (and what a place for your first visit–the city of Mormon headquarters!).

The UU church in Uganda is fairly new and reportedly the only gay-friendly church in the country; I sat next to Mark, its minister, at a luncheon.  He told me that the church sponsors a school for 400 children who are AIDS orphans, being brought up by grandparents, other relatives or neighbors.  About 30 of the children have HIV themselves, and they live at the church’s orphanage so they can take their medications on schedule and receive other care.

I also met the Rev. Fulgence Ndagijimana, the leader of the UU church in Burundi, and Mr. Olufemi Matimoju, the leader of the UU church in Nigeria, which has existed since about 1918, when an Anglican clergyman converted because the Anglican church was not quite inclusive enough for his Yoruba cultural and faith tradition.  Former UUA President Bill Sinkford made a pilgrimage to Africa in 2008, along with the Rev. Eric Cherry, director of International Programs at the UUA (and a seminary friend of mine).  Click to see and hear some of the African church leaders at  General Assembly.

(Bill and Eric also visited UUs in the Republic of South Africa and learned about the post-Apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission.  My personal note:  I used to think Apartheid was a continuation of a centuries-old practice, like Jim Crow in the US.  Then I learned that it was legislated into existence in the late 1940’s!)

There is an article about the unique African expressions of our liberal faith in the recent UU World magazine.

Many UU churches in the US and Canada have a Partner Church relationship in Transylvania, Northeast India, the Philippines, Hungary, Poland and other lands.  Check out the UU Partner Church Council to read more about the purpose of these international relationships.

(Most foreign UU groups are part of the International Council of Unitarians and Universalists.  Only the UU Church of the Philippines is an actual member of our UUA denomination.)

Young Gay Hindu Couple’s Wedding in India

Coming right after the Indian government’s repeal of a law that made homosexual behavior a crime is this news article  from the Times of India about two 18-year-old gay men’s wedding ceremony in a temple Chandigarh, Punjab state, where my own sweetie is from.  They plan a small reception a bit later.  They note that many other relationships are lived out in secret and reject giving in to fear–quite courageous!  The mother of one of them reportedly attended the Hindu ceremony but refuses to acknowledge his orientation and relationship.  A brother covered his face with a scarf.  

I made the mistake of looking at the Readers’ Comments section.  (I typically avoid this in the Sacramento Bee et al., as it always disheartens and infuriates me to see how mean-spirited or ignorant my fellow readers can be.)  The majority of the respondents were outraged or “sickened” or both, and most of the narrow or ill-informed comments reminded me of things we used to hear in the US about the risks of granting equal rights to gays, especially the “recruiting” charge and the “danger to children” charge.  Severe criticism was directed at the media for drawing attention to this marriage and to homosexuality in general.  I recall the story from a UU ministry colleague in the late 1990s who had officiated at a lesbian wedding in South Carolina; the local paper covered the whole wedding process (not just the ceremony) with many pictures.  Neither the minister and church nor the couple got many threats, but the newspaper was attacked for its coverage and punished by the cancellation of subscriptions and advertising.  Many fear that such examples will “confuse” their youth or lead them astray.  Of course, as has been the case here, they do not yet realize that the kind of confusion that damages youth is that of thinking that they are alone and that their authentic feelings are somehow a sign of sinfulness.  The damage comes from self-doubt, repressed feelings, and emotional and spiritual isolation–not to mention social hostility and physical assaults.  

Most of the religious anti-gay references are made by Muslim respondents, many of whom say they are from the Middle East, not India.  

One of the few comments that made me chuckle says that gay marriage will lead to gay adultery, as straight marriage does.

 It comes from K.S.Subramanian, in the US:  ”They can be gay friends but what is the purpose of a marriage. In most of the marriages all over the world the spouses get bored with the monotonous life and seek pleasure elsewhere. The same may happen to gay couples too. Beware.”

In the US it’s been only 40 years since the Stonewall Riots in NYC, which is the event marked as the start of the modern LGBT movement, though many “homophile” organizations and lesbian and gay male activists had existed long before then.  

Given how much attitudes here have changed since LGBT people started to come out of the closet in large numbers, I think there is reason for hope in India, as well as gratitude for the bravery of these young men.

Sunday Stroll–boulevards, cafes, dog encounters

Late yesterday afternoon I walked the boulevards around 24th and G Streets, staying in the shade of the big old trees and the many big houses. It had been up to 90 or more but it felt fine as the evening’s Delta breeze made its soft, first arrival.

I was looking at or walking by apartments for rent. I need a bigger one for the furniture I need to bring here from San Jose. I’d like one that cools down faster at night, my current one heats up and stays hot awhile after I put fans in the windows to draw in the cool air (it gets as low as 50 by morning, so it feels wasteful to use the living room AC to cool the place down at night.

I passed a peach-stucco house with nice shrubs and a big lemon tree in the short front yard. There was the iconic Obama campaign sticker in the window, along with hand written notes taped to the walls: “Please pick up after your dog” and “Help yourselves to lemons. We can’t keep up!”
I took one and took down their address. My fantasy is to move into the neighborhood and then knock on their door and introduce myself as their new neighbor. “I live three blocks over and I moved there just to be near your house, so I hope we can be friends!” I am sure they will invite me in for pie, or even supper, but if they don’t I may have to get a great Dane.

It took me awhile to find where I had parked my car, then I drove to Old Soul Bakery/Weatherstone’s Coffee. I wanted to sit on the tree-covered brick patio but needed to be inside near an outlet for my laptop. I glared at a guy sitting at a table by the windows and one of the few outlets. I’m sure he was about to leave anyway.

I had a $2 iced tea of some precious herbal blend. After an hour I had to step out to the sidewalk to take a phone call. While talking I approached a sweet black Labrador tied to the patio fence and pining for me with bright eyes and a mouth that could smile as much as possible with a muzzle strap on its snout. Her ears were velvety and she loved the taste of my hand.

Two people walked toward us with two little long-haired yippy dogs on leash. I said, “Now just ignore them, okay?” I tried to keep eye contact with her but she wouldn’t take her eyes off them; she had a new reason for living. To the owners I said, “This isn’t my dog; I don’t know what she’ll do, you might want to steer clear.” They seemed to ignore me and three dogs began a barking and lunging melee. I said, “It’s not my dog. It’s not my dog,” as one of the owners apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” (Since it wasn’t my dog, I thought later, I should have shouted, “Get ‘em, get ‘em!”)

The yippy and sorry family went on by us. My new friend, panting cheerfully, returned her attention to me, and I returned to my cell phone conversation, easing toward her for some more love, hoping she wouldn’t decide to settle on me as the handiest thing to bite.

Soon the owner came out and led her from the fence over to a table on the sidewalk and had her sit down, splitting us up forever. I said, “That’s a very sweet dog.” He said, “Yes, too sweet.”

Save the Internet from Corporate Ownership–write to the FCC

I just sent an easy email letter to the FCC. My letter is a revision of the one they provided, with a typo to make it natural and authentic. For info and sample letter,
See http://www.freepress.net/node/add/nbb-fcc-comment

 

Here’s mine…

Ms. Marlene H. Dortch, Secretary
Federal Communications Commission
445 12th Street SW
Washington, DC 20554

Re: A National Broadband Plan for Our Future, GN Docket No. 09-51

Dear Ms. Dortch,
I am writing to ask you to maintain an open and accessible Internet. It was
developed by DARPA, a government agency, for the indirect benefit of the
nation at large. It should not be sold off, given away, or leased to
corporations. Thanks to the contributions of the federal government,
state-supported research universitites like Cal-Berkeley, and government
research grants to private universities, the Internet has been a great
money-making platform for businesses large and small. A free and open
Internet will help revitalize our economy, improve our education and health
care, engage millions more people in our democracy and give new meaning to
freedom of speech.

In crafting the national broadband plan, the Federal Communications
Commission must protect Internet users from corporate gatekeepers who seek to
keep prices high and speeds slow, limit access to content and stifle
innovation and market choice. Net Neutrality must be a basic and enforceable
rule of the Internet. The plan must also ensure that every American –
regardless of race, income or location — can connect to broadband at prices
everyone can afford.

Allowing powerful corporate interests to dictate the future of modern
communications is a mistake that cannot be repeated. Our nation’s health in
the 21st century requires that the FCC puts a people-powered Internet first.

Slow Food Fraud

What I like to eat is slow food, fast. I go to the farmers’ markets and buy more fruit and veggies than I can carry and maybe a loaf of bread. Yesterday I made a fruit salad with two small peaches and a pint of strawberries and a pint of blackberries. Yesterday I ate half of it and I just ate the other half. For lunch yesterday and today I had 2 ears of corn, cooked in their, uh, husks by microwave.
I have green things to eat too. Sometimes I walk across the parking lot to the church garden and cut some chard if nobody’s looking.
Or if somebody is because there’s a ton of it. I washed, stemmed, rolled and chopped it and steamed it in the microwave. David found out I liked chard last week and brought me a grocery bag (big paper kind) full of it. Too bad I had ridden my bike to work. Gotta to to Fresh Choice now!

“But it’s a Dry Heat”– Distraction in Sacramento

I was dropped at the church’s Fresh Choice dinner last night, in a complex barter arrangement in which I would lend a family my car for a few days in exchange for airport transportation, which means one of them has to pick me up at 4:30 AM.  We had fewer than 10 come to dinner–no doubt 105 degrees is too hot to go out.  The weather’s effect on us reminds me of 10-below weather in Minnesota last year… I think it was May.  

Many intruders (a big family and a women’s group whose unifying theme I was unable to figure out) crowded around us in our usual dining room.  It’s usually is freezing but last night was barely cool, unlike the rest of the place, which was warm.  Sometimes our table neighbors leave their used plates on one of the tables I was trying to reserve.  It dawned on me that I had forgotten to schedule this month’s family-friendly outing/fundraiser with  the restaurant!  Then I would have known that this was not a good night.  (I will book the one for Aug. 19, I promise).

After all but one of my Fresh Choice flock departed, I went out with Don for a ride back to church.  Habitually I felt for my keys, to get into the office as well as my apartment.  I didn’t have them on me.  They were attached to my car key, and all were on a journey half an hour away, about to enjoy a girls’ soccer game with the whole family.

 The church was open for the Singing in the Summer activity.  In the cool of the library I left messages on two cell phones and one machine, then sat and considered my options.  Fortuitously Barbara offered to drive me home to see if my apartment manager was home.  Her number wasn’t in my new cell phone yet; I don’t know her last name; the apartment building is not listed in the online white pages.  Barbara offered to take me 30 miles east if necessary.  But my manager was home, willing to give me a key for as long as I needed it (till my pre-dawn driver arrives tomorrow).  

This morning Capital Public Radio said today and tomorrow are Spare the Air Days, and public transit is free.  What luck!  I needed to take the train and bus to work. (When I lived in the SF Bay Area I enjoyed taking a day trip to the City for free if I had the time on a Spare the Air Day.)

After coffee I had to sprint like mad to get on the 8:58 train.  When I changed to the bus the bus driver told me that Sacramento Regional Transit “is too cheap” to give free rides for Spare the Air.  I paid and rode, thinking of sending an annoyed-listener email to tell the newscaster that they had misspoken.  As with most citizen letters I compose in my head, I didn’t actually send one.

The Hillbilly Big Chill: My 30-Year High School Reunion Visit, Day 1

Cars N Stuff

My Hoosier twang sprang back before I even got out of the airplane at the Indianapolis International Airport.

My older brother called my cell phone to let me know he was in his car on site.  I should call after the long walk down the new, brushed metal terminal when I would get “to the top of the stairway.” “Okay,” I said. “Bah-bah.” He replied, “Bah-bah.”

This airport was built last year just west of where the old one sits vacant, awaiting a decision on its fate and a close-out sale of fixtures.  He pulled up in his red Jeep SUV and told me the cell-phone waiting lot was overflowing: “I’ve never seen this place so crowded.”

On the interstate ride to the southern suburbs, I became aware of a two-year-old State legislative advancement:  Most of the SUVs and half of the other cars bore specialty license plates with “In God We Trust.”  Printed on the left side of the plate, the motto is printed larger than the name of the state.  An American flag makes a faint background for the license number, on the right.  An Indiana Civil Liberties Union lawsuit failed in the court.  The suit had said that by not charging drivers the $15 administrative fee that organization-related specialty plates carry, the State was violating the Establishment Clause of the Constitution.  On the contrary, the court said, waiving the fee made the God plate just one of three alternative at the basic fee.  The other choices are the tasteful dark-blue State flag, with white stars in a circle around a stylized torch, and one that says “Lincoln’s Boyhood Home,” of which I have seen none.  (Like me, Abraham Lincoln spent his formative years in Indiana, before heading west to the bigger and flatter Land of Lincoln.)  

A Unitarian Universalist friend and classmate told me about going to the Bureau of Motor Vehicle window for his new plate.  The woman at the window said, “Do you want a regular one or an ‘in God We Trust’ one?  No extra charge!”  ”Just give me a regular one,” he said.  

In the 1980s the State tourism slogan was “Wander Indiana First,” meaning “Don’t Say Yes to Michigan,” among other nearby states.  The license plates had the word Wander in red at the top and Indiana in black at the bottom.  After I moved to Illinois a new acquaintance said, “Are you from Wander?”  Another one said, “Where is Wander?  There’s a lot of Indiana cars from there.”

Some years earlier the Commissioner of Motor Vehicles was Ralph VanAtta.  His name and title appeared on every driver’s license, just above your picture and to the left of your name, DOB, and address.  The Indianapolis Star reported that a disproportionate number of traffic tickets written by the Indiana State Police–for every kind of violation–were made out to Ralph VanAtta.  On subsequent license designs his name was less prominent and his driving record improved.

The Hillbilly Big Chill: Hour 2

Food and Family

My 60-year-old brother took an early retirement buyout this year but never is without a work project.  He spent the last two weeks painting and repairing an inexpensive rental house he owns in nearby Greenwood.  We had to stop at the hardware store for him to exchange a small brass pipe for one in the proper size so he could install a new dishwasher.  The opportunity costs of my living in California include all the money I would have saved if I had stayed close to the family handyman, car mechanic, and small-engine repair man, not to mention his wife, a smart nurse practicioner with prescription-writing privileges.  He found the brass pipe quickly but we waited in the front of the store a long time; a man called out, “But up to help you in a minute.”  By the time the guy got there a less-patient, less-Midwestern customer would have either stormed out in frustration or lifted a number of items.  

We stopped at a farm stand for big red tomatoes and a dozen ears of corn–the best thing about living in or visiting Indiana in the humid summer.  The peaches came from South Carolina.  My brother said they’d ripen more and  smell great in a day or so.  They were yellow and hard but looked as if they had cellulite.   To be fair, there’s a local farmers’ market on Saturdays, but my weekly, year-round visits to “certified” California farmers’ markets made me critical.  Just last week back home the peaches were as much as a dollar cheaper.  

The man at the counter looked to be about 60.  He added up our purchases in the corner of a spiral notebook.  My brother asked if he had any cantaloupe from down in Vincennes (at Indiana’s southern border).  ”All out.”  Too much rain has made it a small crop.  ”Blackberries?”  ”All gone.”  I saw a box of green beans with “home grown $1.50/lb” handwritten on the cardboard flap.  This is the third great thing about Indiana summers.  Mmm.  I asked, as I do at most market stalls, “Do you use any spays on your green beans…pesticides?”  He stared at me blankly for a long moment.  ”I have no idea.  They just bring them up to me.  But I don’t think you’d get very many if you didn’t spray them with something, with bugs and animals eating them.”  I wanted to say, “Well, it doesn’t seem to be a problem back in California.”  

At home my brother shucked the corn out on the patio deck and set it to boil. “For 15 minutes?” I said.   “Really?  It only takes me 4 minutes in the microwave, with the husks on.”  His wife called at nearly 7 PM and said she was still at the clinic and wasn’t able to leave yet.  He got out a ziplock bag of cold rotisserie chicken pieces to heat up, but he said he wasn’t putting it in the microwave until he saw “the whites of her eyes.”  My nephew sliced tomatoes, bathed them in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and sprinkled them with basil.  My brother told the story of a late uncle whose wife sent him out to her garden with scissors to cut some basil as she cooked, and he came in with a handful of petunia leaves.  

My sister in law came in, hugged me and went back out to the car.  She returned with two enormous southern Indiana cantaloupes, holding them in both arms in front of her short, small body.  She asked:  ”What do you think of my melons?”

The Hillbilly Big Chill: Day 3

Sunday Driving

Nephew Mark has brought me to the Monon Coffee Company, in the trendy and still funky Broad Ripple on the north east side of the Indianapolis. (When I was growing up in Franklin, a small town 28 miles south, we called it The City, the way Bay Area people refer to San Francisco.)

 Monon [mow-non] is an Indian name and the name of a rail road whose tracks came through this area.  Now there’s a bike and walking trail here.  They have five kinds of brewed coffee, including Choo Choo Brew (regular and decaf), but I’m having a Peruvian free-trade organic blend, which is the favorite of the young blond man behind the counter.  

The nice thing about Midwestern accents (the twangy or the nasally) is that you can hear someone talking from far away.  (Maybe this is why Mark is reading right now with a blue foam plug in is one good ear.)  I just learned from across the room that the grandson of Bobby Plump, the young basketball player from Milan High School who made the winning shot in the 1954 state basketball final game, as depicted in the movie “Hoosiers,” owns a tavern a block away.  It’s called Plump’s Last Shot.  ”You’ll find drunks asleep in the middle of the day in there, even though it’s against the law to sleep in a bar.”  

A woman is reading, curled up in the large overstuffed chair beside Mark’s chair, with her leg lying on the arm of the chair and her bare foot two feet from his face.  He mumbled his displeasure and later asked her if she’d mind moving it a way.  Now her foot is propped on the coffee table.

Mark’s mom and dad took their boat down to a lake late this morning to fish.  Anticipating no luck in this unseasonably chilly, overcast weather, this morning she took several bags of frozen bass and bluegill fillets, the last of the 2008 catch they had in the deep freezer, for a fish fry tonight.  At my request we’re also having free-range venison, from a deer downed with a shotgun by my brother last fall.  He  says we’re having surf-N-turf.

The Hillbilly Big Chill: Day 4

It’s Monday, and I am procrastinating about telling you about the high school reunion.

After I got a rental car from local firm Ace Rent-a-Car [Support the Troops sign is in their strip-mall store window] I swam at the YMCA near Greenwood this morning.  It is the whitest Y I’ve ever been at, but today I saw one black and one brown person.  The outdoor pool is 50 meters long, which makes me feel like a weakling for the first 10 minutes–will I make it to the end (gasp)?  It’s also the most C of the YMCAs I know.   Not only does the big sign above the registration desk affirm their basis in Christian principles, an open Bible sits on a lectern in the lobby.  Above it on the wall is the passage from Matthew’s Gospel:  “Ask and ye shall receive.”   And on the stairwell wall is a framed famous portrait, Werner Sallman’s “Head of Christ,” the most famous of the fair-skinned versions, the non-Jewish Jesus.  The picture is one of the few Protestant icons.   It’s also on the social hall wall of the Protestant church in which I grew up–and those of many others. 

I had lunch with a second cousin of my late mother’s and his wife, both in their 80s.  Reared on a farm, she cooks a big spread.  We had lemon chicken with capers, corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes, home-grown green beans cooked with sausage, new potatoes cooked in with the beans, hot white rolls, and chocolate pie for dessert–chilled, very fluffy yet dense and sweet.  She told me how to make the pie:  a dense graham-cracker crust with almond slivers, melted Hershey’s chocolate bars, and Cool Whip.   There goes my morning workout!   The tomatoes were not quite ripe enough, she apologizingly noted a few times.  The corn was great, I thought, but could have been better they said.  Her husband said, “It’s not from Johnson County, I know.”  She said, “Well, I bought it here.”  “But it’s not been grown here, I can tell.”  

At these luncheons I can count on hearing of the family deaths that nobody thought to tell me about.   I had learned last week of a first cousin’s death at 66 when my brother mentioned having attended the funeral, as if I had known.  (How would I have known?)  Today I learned of three other deaths in the past year:  one of my mother’s younger first cousins, of cancer at her daughter’s home in another state, and the two old, widowed husbands of three of Mom’s cousins.  (One man married two cousins–his first wife died in a car crash and he quickly picked up with the other one.  Reportedly he never ceased bragging about his sexual conquests till the very end.  The other man used to harangue me as a boy with right-wing conspiracy theories, including ugly ones about Jews controlling the financial system. 

Every time I part from this couple they say, “Don’t wait so long next time.”  “Let us hear from you.”  I could, but we don’t really exchange that much news when we talk, and they don’t like to stay on the phone very long anyway.  Well, now there’s email, which gives them many grandchild fixes.  What I want to say is:  “Let me know if someone dies or if there’s other news in the family.” 

As I drove out of town I passed through the Indiana Masonic Home, a large campus of big old red-brick buildings around a large circle drive.  (My mother’s father built many of them.)  It used to have its own hospital, orphanage, and old folks’ home.  Maybe it still does, but the major development of the past decade or so has been single-family ranch-style houses up and down new streets where cornfields used to be.   Old Masons and their wives live there, and drive electric golf carts around the campus.  Most of the houses have signs out front “The Smiths.”  I was going to stop in and see the mother of a good friend.  She never leaves the house, so I knew she’d be there, but I couldn’t remember which house was hers and didn’t see their name. 

I passed through Greenlawn Cemetery to look at my parents’ graves as well as those of my mother’s parents and her grandparents, among others.  One sweet, small granite stone marks the grave of Tillie Jean, a would-be older sister to my mother.  She used to point it out every time we visited.  The stone says:  “April 11-14, 1916.”

Back from Indiana–Weather Wonders

It was unseasonably overcast and cool most of the time in Indiana with just one day of rain, which was nice. I recall many hot, humid summer days and warm nights. While away I avoided some of the worst heat here, but we’ve had 100-105 degrees of dry heat since then. I have avoided using my living room window A/C all summer in this Central Valley climate! In addition to being out of town a lot, when I am here I go to work in the cool of the late morning. I stay at work till 7 or 8, when my rear end can’t take the chair anymore and the sun is less intense. I go home to eat a meal that doesn’t require using the stove. I put fans in the windows and go for a walk. By bedtime the Delta Breeze has done its work and it’s usually cool enough to sleep. By morning it’s even chilly. (Many of my apartment neighbors leave their A/Cs on all night and don’t get to enjoy the breeze. I wish I had a back yard in which I could sleep outside.)

Two nights last week the place stayed hot, and the outside air didn’t cool down fast enough. So I took a shower, lay down on a towel on my bed and fell asleep before the water evaporated.

Early Riser’s Ride

By 5:40 AM Thursday I decided that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep for any of the 22 minutes that remained before Capital Public Radio newscasters would talk me awake.

Instead of the usual trip to the YMCA, I resolved to bike to work for the sake of the planet, my health, and my highly virtuous persona.  I shaved, showered and ate some unsweetened shredded wheat with chocolate soy milk (to use it up, since it’s long past its expiration date). Instead of my 45-minute meditation,  I headed right out in the cool air at 6:45 AM.

On this, my weekly visit to the N Street Cafe (which is on N street), I had 14 oz. of dark roast organic coffee and 2 oz. of dark roast Fair Trade decaf, so I could feel virtuous yet again.

They have the Sacramento Bee on the center table, so I can read it for free and enjoy the feel of good ol’ newsprint in my hands.   I wrote in my head my daily letter-to-the editor tirade at the current governmental foolishness or political dishonesty or at the stupid meanness of one of the other letter-writers. In the past 10 years I’ve probably written 1,000 trenchant letters in my head and four in real life. Two have been published.

The sun was now beaming through the cafe windows.  I hopped on my bike and headed west toward work, a few miles away through tree-lined streets, some busy business roads, and the Sacramento State University campus as well as along the American River.

I felt that somehow something was missing. I felt lighter because I had not brought my backpack–was that it? I stopped to pull a rubber band out of my pocket and hike my right pant leg up my calf, out of reach of the greasy chain. Then: “Oh. My helmet.” It was on the table at home. Home was just a few blocks away, but I wanted no more delays.  And it felt good to be without the bulk and tightness of a polystyrene and plastic helmet,  and to feel the strong wind keeping my scalp cool and giving me more of a pompadour than a helmet-hairdo.  It was foolhardy also, and I enjoyed that, even as I imagined scenarios of crashing and dying.  It’s sad how small of a personal transgression it takes for me to experience the delight of rebelliousness.

Whose Budget Cuts Hurt the Most?

This is 40 words too long for a letter to the editor in the Sacramento Bee. So I offered it as an op-ed column. We’ll see.

Whose cuts hurt the most?

A State plan to “borrow” local government revenues has caused Sacramento County to lay off dozens of Sheriff’s deputies. Yet Republican Assembly and Senate members purport to worry about public safety.

They would not countenance charging an extraction fee for our State’s oil deposits, or allow a modest tax increase on those of us who could afford it. Now they protest the Governor’s plan to cut costs with early parole for some inmates convicted of nonviolent offenses.

What did they expect? The Governor did say the cuts would be painful for everyone. Did he mean ONLY the sick, hungry, disabled and elderly? And the nursing home and in-home care patients? And their laid-off low-wage care givers? And the victims of child abuse?
These are easy cuts to accept if you don’t see any of the people they will hurt.

Chances are that most of us won’t know or see anyone who is harmed by an early parolee either, so it should be just as easy to accept the cuts in prison expenses. Such are the risks we must accept if our leaders are to be inflexible and shortsighted. Such are the costs to our local communities of the dogma of “no new taxes.”

In a time of crisis, I’d like to think we were all in this together, but that’s not the way our elected officials are governing.

Cupholder

As I drove to work Monday my car felt sluggish, as if the power steering was not working. I had the AC on; it was already hot outside. Then, leaving the ATM parking lot, it moaned and gave a grinding sound.

I made it to work, asked Dave for the name of a trustworthy repair shop for Japanese imports and took it right away. It took awhile for them to open up the chest cavity and tell me about the crank shaft, pulley and other stuff that was dire. The estimate climbed from under $200 to $350 and on and on.
This was all by phone, as I was far away from Sacramento. I was hiding out in the hills with a bunch of Unitarians. Lay leaders, the toughest kind. (Program Council planning retreat.) Final tally: $1,050, plus tax.
Not ready to pick up, however.

So this morning before walking to the light rail and virtuously taking train and bus to work, I went to N Street Cafe.
Ramzi the owner told me it was worth keeping the car even if I had to pay this much money. He also has a 1997 Honda Civic, which he bought in 1997, like me and he says it’s worth keeping. His is in the shop for some body work after he scratched it on a freeway wall while trying to avoid rear-ending someone.

Ramzi and I rarely talk much when I order my coffee, and never about cars. Whence this male bonding?

He had greeted me at the counter by asking,
“Where’s your cup?” (The tall, red plastic UU Service Committee fair trade
coffee cup I bring in.)
I replied:
“It’s in my car, which is in the shop. And it will cost me $1200 to get it out of the shop so I can get the 50 cent discount on a cup of coffee next time I come in here.”

Top Ten List: Benefits of Joining a UU Congregation — or at least this one

 

 

People have asked me about the reasons one would join

a congregation—the benefits as well as the expectations

of members. 

Here’s my list, in ascending order of importance.

Number 10: The wider world of the UUA (support and

advice to look for ministers, build RE, and raise money;

uua.org; District Assembly and General Assembly; “World” magazine;

Skinner House UU books; Heritage Tour to Boston).

Number 9: Beacon Press, one of the last remaining

independent publishers, and a courageous one at that!

Number 8: Washington and Sacramento UU offices to

keep us abreast of key issues and to help us make our

voices heard by the government (of the people, by the

people, for the people.)

Number 7: Leadership development opportunities

through volunteer involvement here and at workshops in

the Pacific Central District, with our clergy’s support.

Number 6: Voting at congregational meetings. Influence

in building the future of UUSS!  Next meeting:  Oct. 18, 2009.

Number 5: Adult Religious Education classes for learning

and spiritual growth. Ministry Circles for building closer

connections with other members, special-interest

programs.

Number 4: The rare and precious opportunity for intergenerational

friendship—with people from one week old to 100 years old, and

fun events for all ages.

Number 3: The support of trained Lay Ministry listeners and other caring

volunteers.

Number 2: Pastoral and staff support—listening and

pastoral care; information to help you connect with

groups, resources or programs; weddings/memorials;

coaching of volunteers.  And I include  in my morning prayers

this congregation and those with concerns I know about .

Number 1: Regular worship services! Rain or shine, your

worshiping community is here for you every Sunday of the

year—not to mention special-event services and rituals.

Well, I ran out of numbers!

But I would add: “The inspiration of being part of a vital,

values-based spiritual community, which encourages us to

deepen and express our own beliefs and to put our beliefs

into action to make the world a better place.”

What would you put on the list that I left out?

TIME FOR COMMENTS, DEAR BLOG READERS!

Vocational Issues: TSA Workers and the Big Picture of Bureaucratic Jobs

In workshops,  guided meditations or team-building sessions at various large organizations, it is possible to guide each worker, at whatever level or type of job, to consider how his or her work fits into the larger picture, how it supports a larger mission, how it matters.

I thought of this in the security line at the airport last week:  how mind-numbing, boring and frustrating it would be for me to be part of the TSA bureaucracy.  The most interesting part of the job would be foiling an evil plot, or at least finding something dangerous in someone’s bags or pockets.  But the system exists to dissuade people from even trying that; it is set up to be mundane.

As I waited in the TSA line I saw a sign proclaiming:  “TSA workers have rights too!”  It urged people to be respectful of the security agents and asserted that verbal abuse and physical assaults against them would not be tolerated.  So, to add insult to tedium, they have to deal with ungracious and ungrateful travelers.

But perhaps the TSA workers can see their routine jobs as protecting the safety of thousands of travelers and airline employees every day and thereby reassuring travelers of the safety of air travel.
Of course, a problem in any bureaucracy is when rigidly following the rules or SOP and ignoring exceptional or new information.  Also, systematic oppression or biased treatment can find cover in the required routines of any bureaucracy, in particular publi-safety bureaucracies.

Recall that it took two hours of questioning of a Muslim Indian Bollywood star in an American airport before he was released.

The Vocation of Denying Insurance Claims

Monday on KQED-FM’s “Forum” the Washington Post journalist T.R. Reid spoke about his new book based on his exploration of different health care systems in the world.   I believe he said that $50 million a year on employees whose only job is to process, and largely deny, reimbursement claims.  Denial of claims is a key to cost-cutting and profit-making for private insurers.

A question arose about the loss of all those claim-processing jobs.  Reid paraphrased an economist who said the nation would be better off paying half those people to dig ditches and the other half to fill them up.

If we change our health care system to eliminate the claim-denying bureaucracy, Reid said, a better plan would be to train those folks to be nurses’ or physicians’ assistants, to work in health-promotion and disease prevention activities, or any manner of productive work related to health care.

In a recent post I wrote about the benefit of seeing our work, no matter how mundane, low-paid, or routine, as part of a bigger picture, perhaps even an expression of purpose or calling.   Given the millions of people whose job it is to deny claims, I’m wondering how they could look at their work from this angle.  Is it possible?

When we have to deal with a claim-denying bureaucrat on the phone it can be quite frustrating; surely they are in a difficult position if they have any empathy at all.   Is this kind of work “just a job” or is it a “soul-killing job, but at least it’s a job” or is it a worthwhile job because it benefits the company shareholders?  Perhaps many of them see their calling as doing what it takes to earn enough money to keep their children fed and housed or to save for a child’s future college expenses.

What do you think?

Big, Bold Opportunities or Building Life-Long Unitarian Universalists

Introducing Big, Bold Opportunities

for Building Life-Long Unitarian Universalists

By the  Family Minister

The Board of Trustees has appointed a task force to review and advance our long-range goal of promoting inter-generational community and ministering to families with children.

As the Task Force begins its work, I want to tell you what’s already going on, and worth celebrating. Unlike some congregations, UUSS is blessed that adult leaders in Child/Youth Religious Education bring experience as involved lifelong Unitarian Universalists. They span a range of ages from 18 to 80+ years. I am not exaggerating!

This commitment is key to congregational vitality, and the secret to the formation of life-long, life-loving UUs. Take a look at what you make possible here:

There is professional child care for those up to age 5 during both services in Room #11. In the adjoining room, during the 9:30 service, is Story Time for toddlers and kindergarteners. They enter by negotiating the stones across an imaginary river and crawling through a tunnel in the earth. The reader’s rocking chair is under a rainbow canopy, and we have classic and new story books. We ask each volunteer to plan to read a few Sundays in a row, but for just one stretch per year. Last week’s story was Frederick (you know, the mouse with the big imagination).

For grades 1-5 we offer Spirit Play. It promotes learning through stories, spiritual reflection and community building. Our trained adult leaders are Story Tellers. You can help out this thriving new UU program by offering to bring and set up a Feast (snack), learn to be an occasional Door Keeper, or come early a few times to help set up art supplies or to reshelve afterwards. A Parent Orientation for those yet to find UUSS (and other interested adults) will take place in January.

The junior high group enjoys conversations related to UU identity and values, explores various spiritual practices from world religions, and may consider field trips or overnight retreats. Last time I poked my head in Room 6 on a Sunday, I saw a good crowd of engaged youth and adult leaders.

The senior high youth group is booming too. On my first visit, adults and youth were getting to know one another and considering activities for the year. The next time I looked in I didn’t even see an open chair or even a space where I could have put one. What’s new for SHYG this fall is that our teens now join with all other ages for the first part of worship, including the Hand of Fellowship, Chalice Lighing, and reciting of our Mission, Values & Covenant.

Of course, every year we offer an Our Whole Lives program for one or more age groups. OWL is a values-based comprehensive sexuality education program, and all adult leaders have been trained to lead it. It takes place on afternoons or evenings over several weeks. Unfortunately for our dedicated volunteers, we did not get enough sign-ups to begin this fall’s junior high OWL program as soon as planned. So, spread the word! High school OWL classes will begin soon, too.

Our UURTH SONG Community Garden leadership team has invited youth and children to enjoy the wonders of our summer garden and help to plant the winter crops. It is a ready-made curriculum: all you have to do is enter it and you have all the materials you need for wondering, learning, sharing, contributing, and cheering!

In recent weeks and months church members have offered their professional talents in the visual and musical arts to engage our children and youth in creative and expressive activities. Last summer’s ArtWork Sunday programs were amazing, and I look forward to the bonding that comes from making music together.

Thank you for the many ways you support our shared ministry to children, youth, their families, and the whole congregation.

Here’s to the future!

Faithfully,

Roger

PS: I welcome your help in organizing additional activities and special events for  all ages, starting with kids’ activities for the November 7’s Harvest Fest Dinner and Auction  and then the all-ages Holiday Crafts Party, Tree Trimming and Potluck Dinner in December.

The Lure of the Fuzzy: Stuffed-Animal Blessing Service

The Lure of the Fuzzy:

Stuffed-Animal Blessing Service

UU Society of Sacramento

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Responsive Reading: gray hymnal #664, Give Us the Spirit of the Child, by Sara Moores Campbell

Hymns:  #203, All Creatures of the Earth and Sky; #21, For the Beauty of the Earth;

#201, Glory, Glory, Hallelujah. 

Piano/violin:  Linus and Lucy (Guaraldi).  Choir:  All God’s Crittters Got a Place in the Choir.

Homily
            Most children love stuffed-animal toys, made with plush or another soft cloth.  Lots of grown-up love them too, but sometimes we are shy to admit it.  Maybe we’re just shy  to admit that we might still have the feelings, motivations, and the very spirit of our childhood selves.  Your grown up ministers thought a service like this one could be a way to give permission to everyone to express appreciation for our stuffed, cloth-covered or fuzzy friends, and to consider what they have done for us. 
            The most famous manufacturer of plush animals began in Germany in 1880. Now the company is known as Steiff GMBH.   Its founder was Margarete Steiff.  Margarete had had polio as a baby and used a wheelchair all her life.  As a young adult she had a job as a seamstress and began making animals as a hobby.  First, it was elephants, then dogs, cats and pigs. With her brother’s help she started the company, making designs and prototypes herself.  She’s been dead a long time, but the company maintains her high standards for quality and safety for its products.  In 1902, her nephew Richard designed a stuffed bear.  Thanks to Theodore Rooselvelt, in five years they were selling nearly a million teddy bears every year, many of them exported to the United States.

Here’s the story.  In 1902, President Theodore Roosevelt was out on a bear hunt in Mississippi with several other important men, who also liked big-game hunting.  After a while most of the men had killed a bear but the President hadn’t.  Roosevelt’s assistants found a bear, sicced the dogs on it, beat it, and tied it to a tree so the President would have something to shoot and take home.  Roosevelt said:  It’s not sportsmanlike to kill a helpless bear.  He went home empty handed but ordered others to put the mistreated bear out of its misery.  Later a political cartoon in the Washington Post newspaper showed the President turning away from the animal.  It said:  “Drawing the line in Mississippi.”  The animal became known as Teddy’s bear.   More cartoons followed, showing the bears ever cuter and cuddlier.  American toymakers Rose and Morris Mitchom were the first to make and sell a toy bear in the President’s honor, but the Steiffs were right behind them.  A few years there were at least 20 teddy-bear companies. 

        Lest you think me a promoter of consumerism for talking up store-bought bears, let us also praise the loveable sock monkey.  The sock monkey has been around since at least the 1930s.  While you can buy one in stores, typically these monkeys have been home-made out of work socks, especially socks with red heels, which become the monkey’s mouth. 
      I’m sorry to say that I was a greedy little consumerist kid.  I never settled for a sock monkey.  One Christmas season I instructed my parents to instruct Santa Claus that I wanted a lot of stuffed animals.  On Christmas morning, several of them appeared under the tree.  One was a plush pink pig with a wind-up key in its side, to make it play music. 

I’ve been wondering:  What is it that makes our comfort objects, like dolls and soft animals, such good companions?   What do these animals excel at?  For one thing, as versatile playmates, these toys encourage our creative imagination.  They are able and willing to play any role we give them in whatever skit or scheme we come up with.   With a fuzzy friend and an open imagination, you don’t really need anything fancy or expensive to have a good time. 

Sometimes as a boy I lined up my animals along the wall of our walk in closet.  They were behind the hanging clothes, so it seemed that each one had its own house.  I’d walk them over to one another’s homes for a visit, and deliver mail among them.  I practiced medicine on them, as well as cosmetology.  Once I cut out spots of their fur with scissors; kids, don’t try this!  The fur won’t grow back.  My father was a physician, and I filled some syringes with water and gave them injections, with real needles.  I don’t know if I was acting like Doctor Doolittle or more like Dr. Joseph Mengele.  But I do know that sometimes I took out my frustrations on my toy pets.  My real pets were no doubt relieved.

            Where else could a wolf and lamb lie down together, or a lion sit with a calf, than amidst  the fuzzy menagerie of a toddler who can bring them together by the spirit of imagination?  In the Bible, the Hebrew Prophet Isaiah imagines a new world, a world in a state of divine peace:  “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together.”  And, the Prophet Isaiah concludes, “a little child shall lead them.” 

        Soft animal toys or dolls teach empathy.  They listen softly, so to speak.  They are always ready to hear our joys and sorrows, our hopes and hurts.  As  patient companions, they welcome our ideas, opinions, grand schemes, and stories.  Soft listeners never say, “That’s stupid.”

They are role models of gentleness and reminders of the goodness of just being present with one another.   They don’t have to have the answer for our questions or try to solve our problems, they just need to be there.  No matter what your age, sometimes it’s nice to have the soft attention of a good listener.  Maybe  as adults we can remember how important it is to be gentle and patient with one another, and with ourselves. 

            For some of us, a soft animal has been a source of tender companionship when our family situation didn’t feel so tender, gentle or kind.  A Unitarian Universalist friend of mine grew up in the 1950s and 60s in an anti-religious family, and secretly prayed every night after going to bed.  When the lights were out she would pull all her animals under the covers with her and pray with them.  She’d pray to God for peace and harmony among members of her family.  She’d pray for peace and safety in her own life, and she’d pray for other children, including the kids living in the Soviet Union during those early years of the arms race.  She’d finish her prayers by praying for all the animals in the bed with her.  Of course, this little girl grew up to be a minister.    

Our stuffed animals can gain meaning for us over time–it’s not how many we have or how new they are that really matters– it’s their familiarity.  It’s like a meal we know as “comfort food.”  Comfort foods evoke a variety of memories, longings and cravings.  The meaning of things to us depends on our own life story, not on how elaborate or expensive things are.  I have a friend in her 60s who still still has the animal given to her by her father when she had her tonsils removed at age five.  This friend’s young-adult daughter also has kept a homemade stuffed animal from her childhood.  Once as a little girl, her daughter had a birthday party and invited all her guests to bring teddy bears, and they decorated tee-shirts for the bears.   This was the first party she didn’t want her younger brother to attend.  He had a stuffed penguin.  He drew a card for his sister, with a teddy bear on it, and wrote “I can’t bear to miss your party.”  [pause for sighing]  She let him come after all, and welcomed the penguin as well.
            Playing with dolls or toy animals is a way to practice love, kindness, and affection. Of course, the animals are not real, but the spirit of companionship is real.  The love that we show is real.   In the children’s book The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, the soft toy Rabbit asks:

    “What is REAL?  Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’

    “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.  “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become REAL.”

 

Let us affirm the gift of imagination and the practice of love.  Let us learn to trust one another to show our softness and our spirits.  Let us give thanks for the real gifts of care that we can give and receive, all through our lives.  So may it be.  Amen. 

 

Introductions of our Fuzzy Friends

            If you have brought a toy or animal to church with you, we invite you to line up at the microphone and introdue it.  Tell us its name, and tell us what it is, if that’s not obvious.

 

Blessing Ritual

Now for the ritual of blessing.  We will have a laying-on of hands.  Place your hand over your fuzzy friend or another toy you’ve brought.  If you don’t have one, feel free to call to mind one that you do have, one that you used to have, one that you’d like to have, or one you would like to give to someone else.  Now let us call to mind the faces of those children who live in places or conditions where gentleness is is in short supply, and the need for peace and playfulness is great.   

            Spirit of Love and Creativity, we give thanks for all sources of care, comfort and companionship, including these present with us today.  Bless them and us, and bless the goodness that arises within us and among us.  We are thankful for the wonders of imagination and play, and the gifts of attention, patience and presence.  May the healing powers of joy, love and hope touch everyone, of every age, here and all over the world. 

So may it be.  Blessed be and amen.

 

Closing Words and Benediction

Our closing words come from one of the  Winnie-the-Pooh books, by A.A. Milne:

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
‘Pooh?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Piglet?’
‘Nothing’ said Piglet, taking Pooh’s hand.
‘I just wanted to be sure of you.’

 

May you depart in joy and return in peace.  Amen.

Unitarian Night at the Movies: A Serious Man

A Night at the Movies

 

Sunday night was Unitarian night at the Tower Theater!  Six UUSS-connected folks were surprised to see one another there.  We made up one third of the 7:00 PM audience for “A Serious Man,” the new Coen Brothers film, set in a Minneapolis suburb in 1967.  It focuses on Jewish culture and family life as well as religious questions and practices.  Themes include the randomness of life, the burdens of ordinary people, the struggle to do the right thing, and the complexities of human relationships.    It’s a modern, wacky take on the story of Job in the Hebrew Scriptures.  The majority of us agreed with the New York Times reviewer, who loved it, but a minority was in good company with the New Yorker reviewer, who didn’t.  PS—it’s not a movie for kids.

Sister Cities: Sacramento-Bethlehem

A parishioner asked me to join the advisory committee of the Sacramento to Bethlehem Sister Cities Initiative.  I think he asked me because of my interest in cross-cultural experiences and international pilgrimages (I visited Unitarian ethnic Khasi tribal villages in far NE India as well as 400-year-old Unitarian sister churches in Erdhely (a Hungarian-speaking Romanian-owned province, known as Transylvania to non-Hungarians).

Visits and cultural exchanges (as noted on their new web site) between Sac and Beth have been taking place for a few years–the Bethlehem mayor has been here at least twice, and his son and grandkids live here.  The only other mayor’s son I knew was in junior high school with me.  When he got in trouble with the law for burglary a number of us had a good burst of Schadenfreude, as kids and Southern Indiana Democrats will do.

Anyway, I do hope to visit Bethlehem–during good weather only–as well as some other Palestinian cities and Israeli cities.  My geographical knowledge is bad, so I need to learn more.  All I know is olive oil, King David and the Babe in the Manger.

Bethlehem’s local government has officially approved the connections but Sacramento’s City Council has yet to vote.

There is  an excellent opinion column in the current week’s issue of Sacramento News & Review, which says that the delay in our city’s official approval is due to political intervention by folks outside of the Sister City community.  Be that as it may, the friendships and exchanges will continue.

Somewhere on this blog is my letter to the city council urging a positive vote.  If you live here, I invite you to contact the Mayor’s office and City Council members with your support.  Check out the HISTORY section on the initiative’s web site to find out the purpose of Sister City relationships if you aren’t sure of where you stand.

Thanksgiving 2008: Saying Grace — a short sermon

 

All-Ages Service, November 23, 2008

Family Minister            UU Society of Sacramento, CA

Saying Grace

 

One summer day I was back in my Indiana home town, having lunch with a group of my late mother’s cousins.  As we sat down to the table, one asked me “Roger, would you return thanks?”  He meant: would I say grace. The remarkable thing about this is that I had not been in the habit of saying grace, or hearing it, while growing up in my churchgoing Protestant family in that small town in the Midwest.  I didn’t get into the practice of saying grace until I was in my late 20s, after I had become a Unitarian Universalist.

This is what I prayed before lunch:  “Dear God, we give you thanks for the gift of life and the gift of this new day, for the blessing of reunion and joyful memories, for this food, and for the hands that have prepared it.  We call to mind those who are no longer with us but who live in our hearts.  May this food nourish us so that we can be more kind, generous, and loving. Amen.”

Learning grace as a UU has taught me the wide-open possibilities for saying thanks, whether or not we believe in God or mention the divine at all.  At a ministers’ support group in the late ‘90s, a colleague gave the blessing for a meal.  She included thanks for the farm workers, the truckers, and those who prepared and served our food.  Thus did I learn that grace is not just a nice ritual, but an opportunity for ethical reflection.

As children, many of us grow up learning the value of saying thank you for a favor, a gift, a helping hand, or a compliment from another person.  Why not acknowledge other sources of help and goodness?  In addition to thanking people, how about thanking the great cosmic mystery from which all abundance emerges?  Some say God, others bring to mind the web of inter-connected beings and elements, and the energy that holds it all together and welcomes us as a part of the whole.  The practice of giving thanks can take many forms.

It’s my impression that more families have mealtime rituals nowadays than when I was growing up, whether they’re in a more conservative religious tradition, in a UU church, or none at all.  One family in this church is making a collection of songs to sing and words to say aloud for their mealtime ritual.  Here’s their current favorite:

Earth who gives to us this food,

Sun who makes it ripe and good,

Dear Sun above and Earth below,

Our loving thanks to you we show.

Blessings on our meal, our friends, our family and on us, and may peace be on Earth.

Blessed be.

In an earlier church of mine I dined with a family whose blessing included remembering those who are hungry or homeless, both people and dogs and cats.  Such a ritual can be a magical time, a sacred moment. I know middle-aged couples with no children, and those with none at home anymore, who sit down at the table, join hands, close their eyes, and breathe in silence for a few moments.

I know a couple in retirement.  Every evening they make a light supper, close a heavy curtain over the doorway into their dining area and light a votive candle.  Then one of them reads from the book A Grateful Heart, a collection of poems and prayers for mealtime. But even if we are eating alone, we can take a moment for gratitude.  My Buddhist meditation teachers have suggested that we pause and look at the food on the plate, noticing its colors and textures and smells, and then eat with a bit more attention and pacing.  Of course, this solo practice is easier for me to do when the news is not on the radio, I’m not reading a magazine, and the laptop computer is not open on the table. In other words, I rarely do it.

Here’s mealtime grace used by another family in this congregation:

We are grateful for all our gifts

We are safe, calm, and patient

We trust in the process of life

Peace and harmony fill us and surround us

All is well

Amen

I want to tell you about my stealth grace.  When I am out with friends for a meal, and the food is served I might say, “Well, I am grateful to be alive, to have a place to live and a job I love, to have this food, and to be here with you.” Once a friend responded [with a skeptical tone] “Okaaay…”  Another said, “Yes!  Me too.” One friend responds, amen!  Another one likes to recount what he is grateful for.  Sometimes when I’m dining with others, I simply ask, “Are we not blessed?  To have this food and be safe and be here together…. Are we not blessed?”  Who but a crank is going to say no!

Many people know the value of making what’s called a gratitude list.  No matter how burdened we may feel, no matter how unfair life can be, this practice can shift our perspective and help us recognize the blessings we do have.  Over time, perhaps, the attitude of gratitude, and the practice of giving thanks, can lift our spirits.

Recently a colleague sent an email summarizing a children’s book she recommended.  The secret, the message of the book, she said is this:  You don’t become grateful by being happy.  You become happy by being grateful.

There are so many gifts in life, which we perhaps can recognize if we take some time.  Let us show our thanks in ways that are true and right for us.  May we remember to look for reasons both great and small for giving thanks, and may doing so increase our happiness.  Perhaps this is what it means to say, Happy Thanksgiving.  So may it be.

Crossing Borders 1–Travel to UU Ministers’ Convo in Ottawa

I flew to Burlington, Vermont, stayed overnight with friend Abigail in her big old house in the country (well, a block from the town green, but there are fewer than 1,000 souls there, in a town I never heard of, even though it’s named after one of Ethan Allen’s brothers).  No heat upstairs but Frisky sat on the bed waiting for me.  Though allergic, I let him stay as long as he would.

The sky was clear and sun bright Wednesday as we drove to Ottawa in her minivan.  We passed the midpoint between the North Pole and the Equator–I had no idea; it felt as if we were 3/4 of the way to the North Pole already.  We drove through the countryside of Quebec, stopped in the neighborhood of Old Montreal for lunch at an upscale Polish restaurant (bypassing the upscale Indian and Thai restaurants), plodded along the city’s streets and freeway and headed into the sunset to the nation’s capital, Ottawa, just across the border from Quebec.

At the border crossing from Vermont into Canada, Abigail  handed over our passports and answered the guard’s questions:  Going to Ottawa, going to a conference,  coming back in five days.  I wanted him to say Welcome to Canada, but he didn’t.  His dark suit had a lovely lapel pin, a deep-red poppy, which we would see on many people, as it was Nov. 11, Remembrance Day, in Canada.  (Veterans’ Day in the US; which meant we couldn’t get money changed at a bank before leaving.)

I read later in the Globe and Mail newspaper that there Canadians have had a resurgence in attention to this holiday, perhaps due to the involvement of Canadian service members in Afghanistan.  Lots more people attend Remembrance Day ceremonies now.  At 11:11 AM (on 11/11) Canadians observe a full minute of silence whatever they are doing; there is a move to make this two minutes of silence now.  That’s what it used to be, till interest waned in Remembrance Day observances!

In other news, the Conservative government has revised the booklet that immigrants have to study to include more history about Canadian and First Nations encounters, tensions over the relationship of its French-speaking province to the national government, and the Queen of England (who is still the Queen of the Dominion of Canada).  The book also says more about the peacekeeping roles played by the Canadian military in recent history.  (I didn’t realize that Canada was in the Korean conflict but not the Vietnam war.)

A colleague told me that Quebec gets to choose its own immigrants.   Immigrants to other provinces are processed by the feds, not the provincial governments.  For immigrants to Quebec, the federal government only conducts a background check for security purposes, which slows down the process a bit.   Quebec ranks would-be citizens through a system of points:  more points for speaking French and for being of baby-making age.  (Immigrants from from former French colonies are at an advantage.)  It’s good to know French, as all the road signs in Quebec are not bilingual, as they are in the rest of the country.

Wednesday night’s opening worship for our convocation included a welcome from the minister emeritus from the Ottawa church and the other Canadian ministers on the planning committee.  He said:  ”Welcome to the second coldest national capital on the planet, after Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.”   Fortunately for the next three days of lovely fall sunshine you couldn’t tell this was true.  Unfortunately, I was one of the dutiful conferees who did not leave the Westin Hotel and attached mall-with-food-court until the weather became overcast and wet.  But a Saturday night walk in the mist wasn’t too chilly for me, and going by Parliament I felt as if I were in London, but at a much better exchange rate.