Covenanting to Use a Comma
Rev. Mark Stringer
First Unitarian Church of Des Moines
2/7/09 & 2/8/09

 

“We, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote: Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations.”
—One of seven principles adopted as a Bylaw by the 1984 and 1985 General Assemblies of the UUA

 

Meditation 

“Yo Yo Ma at the Inauguration” by Lynn Ungar (1/09)

 

He has to be cold, on the marble iceberg

of those steps, but how could he wear gloves

to touch the lover between his knees?

There is intimacy in sacrifice,

as much as the other way round.

He is beaming – at us, at the day,

at the colleagues who are weaving

through this shared dream. He turns to each

of them: the disabled Jew, the black man,

the brown woman, each of them a genius,

each letting our collective light shine.

 

This is how we do it, make real the promise

of the day. Letting the love pour through

our fingertips, our arms, our craft.

Gloves off, eye to eye,

giving full measure,

listening

with all the warm intensity

of that wide soul.

 

First Reading

The words of David Eaton [responsive reading #557 in Singing the Living Tradition]

 

All living substance, all substance of energy, being, and purpose, are united and share the same destiny.

All people, those we love and those we know not of, are united and share the same destiny.

Birth-to-death
we share this unity with the sun,
earth,

Our brothers and sisters, strangers,

Flowers of the field, snow flakes, volcanoes and moon beams.

Birth—Life—Death
Unknown—Known—Unknown

Our destiny: from unknown to unknown.

May we have the faith to accept this mystery and build upon its everlasting truth.

 

Second Reading

A story from the Rev. Dr. C. Welton Gaddy, a Baptist minister and leader of the national Interfaith Alliance.

 

A little girl…[once] told [the Dutch-born Catholic priest and author] Henri Nouwen that she needed a blessing. At the time…[he] was working among severely challenged children in Canada. Instinctively, Henri touched the little lady’s head with the sign of a cross. “No,” she responded immediately, “That doesn’t work. I want a real blessing.”

 

Later, during a group session, this same little girl walked over to Henri and laid her head on his chest. The sensitive priest took the little girl into his arms, enfolding her in his clerical robe and saying, “Janet, I want you to know that you are God’s beloved daughter. You are precious in God’s eyes. Your beautiful smile, your kindness to the people in your house and all the good things you do show us what a beautiful human being you are. I know you feel a little low these days and that there is some sadness in your heart, but I want you to remember who you are: a very special person, deeply loved by God and the people who are here with you.”

 

No sooner had Nouwen spoken the last word, than every child in the room rushed to him saying, “I want a blessing.”[1]

 

 

Sermon

You are at work or out with friends and someone discovers you have been attending a Unitarian Universalist church. 

 

If your experience matches mine, the person may very likely say something like, “Oh, that’s the church where they don’t believe in God.”

 

What do you say in response?

 

One of our members had this kind of encounter recently.  She told me her response was, “Some of us do.  Some of us don’t.”

 

To which I playfully added a third sentence: “So what?”

 

Some do, some don’t, so what?

 

But the more I have been thinking about it, there is a lot of importance in the answer to that question “so what?” a question typically uttered to suggest, “What’s the big deal?”  You see, I’m thinking that the pairing of “Some do” with “Some don’t” is HUGE for most of us. And by HUGE, I mean it is a very good thing.  An important thing.  A foundational thing. It certainly is for me.  In fact, I believe “Some do. Some don’t.” may define us as well as anything else we could say about our creedless religion.  “Some do. Some don’t” is human.  It is real. And therefore, for me, at least, it is religious.

 

As one of our UU principles says, our association with one another is grounded in our covenant to affirm and promote that each of us is free and responsible to search for meaning, to search for what is true.  And for some of our members and friends, all this talk of religion and faith and God et cetera is really just a bunch of hooey.  But they come here anyway.  And I’m glad they do, because having them in the mix insures that we are a truly human community, comprised of belief and denial and everything in between.  This is a human community.  Human and real. Can I get an Amen? Hallelujah!

 

For those not familiar with this degree of freedom in their religious pursuits or communities, the idea that we are not expected to adhere to a common understanding of the divine (or lack thereof) can leave the impression that our religion is some kind of clumsy game meant to only suit our individual needs and predispositions, that we really only come to this church week to week to have social time.  And the fact is, “Some do.  Some don’t.”

 

Some do.  Some don’t. So what?

 

Again, for me, the answer to the “so what?” is HUGE.  In part because I believe that the divine itself is found within the creative events that arise from our encounters with one another, whether we are talking about God or not.  The creative interchange that happens when we are

eye to eye,

giving full measure,

listening [and sharing]

with all the warm intensity

of that wide soul.

 

That wide soul that we could say encompasses every one of us, known and unknown.  That wide soul that Ralph Waldo Emerson called the “Over-Soul.”  Within each of us, he wrote,  “is the soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related; the eternal ONE.”

 

Individually, we know, we are as unique as fingerprints, as snowflakes, as the wondrous skin and bone machines with different dreams and DNA that we are, and yet, we are also connected, linked through our humanity and our biology, our shared breath, our common, yet altogether different, journeys from birth through life to death.  We are connected, each to the other, no matter our theologies, no matter our commitments, no matter our levels of interest in exploring life’s mysteries.

 

We are connected.

 

And that’s why, even in this free church, where we are encouraged to search for our own truth and meaning, we do share some expectations of how we will behave in community with one another, knowing all the while that we will sometimes miss the mark, which, when we do, helps remind us why we need to aim in the first place.

 

I love the story of one of my colleagues in ministry who, one Sunday morning, while walking through the basement of the large congregation she served, came upon a young man who was beginning to light a fire in the hall.  “Oh no,” she calmly told the young man.  “We don’t do that here.”

 

Beyond lighting unnecessary fires (literally or figuratively), another thing that I believe we “don’t do here” is to behave as if our free and responsible understandings of truth and meaning trump anyone else’s.  Oh sure, sometimes we do behave as if our individual perspectives are the truth with a capital T.  We are human, after all. But our covenant with one another,

our promise as members of this religious community,

the goal to which we aspire,

as articulated in the principle

upon which this service is based,

is

“Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations.”

 

Through this principle, we are not promising to accept everything that happens in our church.  Some fires, after all, need to be put out, and their starters need to be stopped. Some behavior is, in fact, unacceptable according to common standards of safety and kindness (among others).  So, no, we are not promising to accept everything that participants of this community do; rather, we are promising to accept that members of this community are.  In other words, we promise to respect the humanity of the other—her inherent worth and dignity, as we say—even when we may not see eye to eye, even when we have a need to declare We don’t do that here.  We promise to not set up false theological or political or intellectual expectations that must be met in order to be a member of our church.  We promise to graciously receive whatever so-called truth someone may be offering, whether that person is the minister or a member, and determine where it might intersect with our own, seeing it as only one piece of much larger puzzle, a puzzle for which we, too, hold some pieces.

 

This promise of acceptance is not a limitation.  It is an invitation.

 

Last year, during my sabbatical, I understand there was a petition drive initiated by at least one member of our church related to the Unitarian Universalist Association’s use of the word God in its publications and advertising. The petition suggested that the UUA should stop using the term, as it is not a concept that all UUs find compatible with their perspectives.  I found out about this petition from a few people who confessed to me that they had been upset about it, who saw the spirit of the petition as contrary to what they believed this church is really about…or what they hoped it is about.  At least one of them confessed that it made him wonder whether or not he really belonged here, which, incidentally, I’m thinking was the same question nagging at those who signed the petition.

 

Now, with what I know about the petition, I find no inherent problem with it.  I wouldn’t have signed it because I don’t agree with it.  But, hooray for those who did.  Good for you.   Doing so was no doubt a stand for your own search for truth and maybe even a step on your own ladder of spiritual growth (if you’ll pardon the expression).

 

When I heard the impact that this petition had on at least one member of our church (and probably others), I was disappointed that it had been taken so seriously (or was it personally?), as if a petition for a cause that one doesn’t believe in would somehow negate the stated mission of our congregation, and our covenant to one another of “acceptance”. 

 

But this kind of leap is familiar to many of us, isn’t it?  In many situations in our lives, we can allow those with whom we disagree to keep us from living our own commitments and priorities.  Oh, we say, this cause or this social group or this church can’t possibly be what it claims to be if this perspective is present.  And we walk away.  Sometimes in sorrow.  Sometimes in anger.  Sometimes in apathy.

 

I think our church exists to be a place where we get to work through these tendencies to walk away from what we care about, to too easily yank ourselves away from people and from possibilities…to, as we like to say around here, learn to be disappointed and stay anyway.  Our church is a place where we practice asserting our own truth for ourselves, without expecting that others have to agree or else someone is wrong.  It is a place where we get to be human and real, as well as loving and forgiving.  It is a laboratory of interaction, a workshop of common endeavor, a place where we learn to see ourselves in each other, for better or for worse, one precious relationship at a time.

 

Rather than be upset that some people may have opinions that don’t match our own, in this church we can express our disagreement and still support the rights of others to have their opinions.  And, most importantly, we can stick around, to insure that the diversity of opinion remains…for that diversity of opinion is human…and real…and for me, at least, religious. 

 

Theology can be important to consider because it is an expression of our humanity and an attempt to make sense of the mystery that we are alive amidst the reality that we one day will not be.  But theology is not all we do here.  In this community of fellow searchers, we also consider generosity, service, justice, ethics, history, literature, art, music, politics, science and a host of other things.  And those of us with no need for theology are welcome just as those who are deeply committed to particular theological understandings should be.  All of this taken together, with the underlying expectation that we will do our best to be in right relationship with each other, is what makes this place a religious community.  What do I mean by “right relationship”?  It’s a phrase we have used in our small group ministry program since its inception, a concept embodied in the free exchange of stories and ideas that small group ministry enables.  For me, right relationship is all about space…about letting other people be who they are, and believe what they must.

 

I found a passage from Henri Nouwen this week that expresses this gift of space well.  He wrote:

 

When we think back to the places

where we felt most at home,
we quickly see that it was where
our hosts gave us the precious freedom
to come and go on our own terms
and did not claim us for their own needs.
Only in a free space can re-creation take place
and new life begin.

Precious freedom to come and go on our own terms, leading to Re-creation.  New life.

Freedom is the key.  And we can’t be free to pursue our own spiritual growth (however we might define those terms) without offering others the freedom to do the same thing.

 

As I often say when we welcome new members to our church, the one thing I think we must believe in order to belong here, is that the door through which we entered does not close behind us, it remains open for all those who wish to follow.

 

I was drawn to this acceptance of difference, particularly theological difference, from the first morning I entered the doors of a UU congregation, and it is this acceptance of difference that has kept me in UU congregations, even when I have seen us, individually or collectively, occasionally missing the mark.  For when we are at our best, at our most open and accepting, we truly have a gift to offer the world: the gift of space.  Space that is human…and real…and therefore, for me at least, religious.

 

Last month, during one of our new Second Wednesday sessions, which take place here at church right after our Wednesday dinner, one of our members, Heidi Lackmann said something that led to what must seem like a strange title to this sermon, “Covenanting to Use a Comma.”

 

We were talking as a group about the idea that so many of us are here in this church to be around people who think like we do.

 

And Heidi pointed out that it really matters whether or not we use a comma in that sentence.

 

For example, I know I don’t want to be in a place where everyone thinks like I do.  How boring that would be!

 

But I do want to be in a church where everyone thinks, like I do.

Where everyone questions, like I do.

Where everyone offers space (or tries to), like I do.

Where everyone is free, like I am.

 

It really does matter where whether we use that comma, doesn’t it?

 

Again, if our religion asks anything particular of us at all, it is to use that comma, and to live the invitation it implies, to embrace each unique individual that comes through our doors, to be the hosts who offer the precious freedom to our guests to come and go as they please, and to be the workshop of new life that welcomes, accepts, and encourages all.

 

Can I get an Amen?  Hallelujah!