Thursday, March 21, 2013

Saved by a Different Faith (JC)


I chose Unitarian Universalism as my faith not because of our history which is rich, indeed; not because of our pioneering efforts to end slavery, or how we helped in the women's suffrage movement. I did not become a UU because of our important work during the Civil Rights Movement.  I didn't choose this faith because I am antitrinitarian or because I believe in the salvation of all souls. I chose this religion as the one I would die for because, quite simply, it accepted me for who I was and where I was.  This faith said "You are okay as you are, you are an original blessing not an original sin--a work in progress." That is the reason I am a Unitarian Universalist. 

What about you? Is UUism a gift to you? A gift is "a thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present" (thanks Wiki). This movement came to us free of charge it was a present--presenting to us new opportunities for affirmation and association. It was freely given without any thought of repayment.  I don't know?  Somehow I feel compelled to do something with this gift. I want to pay it forward by sharing our message with others. An old hymn of the church comes to mind... "What shall I render for all the blessings? What shall I render, what shall I give?” The hymn goes on to say, “All I can render is my body and my soul, that’s all that I can render that is all that I can give.” I have to be present and share this UU gift because I am held captive by the message.

If you are not a UU you might ask "Is that all the UU message says--that 'you are okay and a work in progress'?   Yes.  Pretty much, but it does say more...  Our message says to you that we support inclusivity   We believe all humans are the "Imago Dei"-- made in the image of God, made in the image of Greatness!  We believe all humans beings have worth and are worthy of loveWe believe that all religions point us right back to ourselves and the "god(s) of our understanding."  We believe in the democratic process, that each person is free to responsibly search for her/his own truths in life.


Perhaps you are a Unitarian Universalist and don't even know it?  If you want to talk about it, give me a shout out.  The ways to reach  me and to check out some of my work are below.  

Peace and blessings,

Rev. John T., (MOLE)
Minister of Outreach, Leadership and Evangelism
UU Church of Annapolis, Lead Minister AWAKE
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Office 410-266-8044 x107
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Monday, March 11, 2013

When God is One




I am still reeling from Partner Church Sunday, and I believe that I am not alone. We all felt a sense of blessing and perhaps even pride in being the heirs to this special religious legacy. There was something about the service and Rev. Fred’s message that excited the imagination in a profound way. We got to consider our sense of connectedness across continents and across the stretches of time. We got to see, hear and in some cases taste and touch our relationship to all those who have undertook, and are undertaking now, this faithful journey we call Unitarian Universalism.

I found myself fixed in place like a deer in the headlights by the very simple refrain “God is One” that we heard over and over again. (And, I am willing to accept the possibility that maybe I’m the only one who heard it that way, as it bounced back and forth in my head). It had such a pure and resonant quality, both elegant and buoyant.  The phrase said so little but meant so much to me.

Egy Az Isten  “God is One.”


Maybe I was awestruck because it reminded me of my days in seminary when studying Hebrew Bible and I stumbled on the passage in the book Deuteronomy:

 שְׁמַע, יִשְׂרָאֵל:  יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ, יְהוָה אֶחָ.
 Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one.


The message occurs other time in the Christian New Testament (believe it or not Jesus says it in Mark’s Gospel, the oldest text in the Christian canon!) and we see it in the Koran as the essential article of faith:

لَا إِلَّهَ إِلَّا الله مُحَمَّدٌ رَسُولُ الله
There is no god but God, Muhammad is the messenger of God.


In Hinduism we hear intimations of it in the Upanishads in reference of Brahman as the substrate of existence. For me there is a universal quality to the refrain that says more about our yearning to apprehend the true nature of reality, than it does about any particular deity or cultural context.

But, even before I had the chance to study all of these ancient books with their similar messages, I had the innate capacity to hear and perceive what would become my deepest truth that indeed “God is one”.
So hearing the message “God is One” felt familiar to me on multiple levels.

You see growing up I was almost certainly a Christian Universalist like our partners in the Philippines, and most likely a Christian Unitarian, like our friends in Romania. Long before I knew what it took to be either one, I had an intuition that because God was one, no one could be separated from that “oneness”, it was inescapable and irresistible. As a kid I believed (and still do) that God could be encountered in holy scripture and in trees, grasses and bright sunny days. All people had access to the holy in their own way, even if I could not explain the precise mechanics of that access.

This of course was an impossible position to have growing up as a Pentecostal Christian, where we lived in a world delimited by a rigid brand of fundamentalism, and under constant threat of God’s imminent, final judgment of humanity. It was a world of winners (the saved) and losers (the eternally damned); and there was only one way to be a winner, as it were, and that was through accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. Our focus as Pentecostals was the life hereafter, and actively rejecting life on Earth. I lived as someone who was constantly prepared to leave a place that was never his home in the first place.
But, one day, in the middle of a Sunday service, actually, I realized something that changed things for me--forever.

I realized that I couldn’t believe in a God who would damn anyone ever again. I couldn’t believe in a God who could exclude anyone. There had to be a way that everyone could be included in the divine plan, if were truly divine in the first place. Otherwise it was just scare tactics and politics masquerading as religion.
I couldn’t believe in a God, who wasn’t immanent in creation; who couldn’t be encountered everywhere and in various scriptures and religious traditions and even the sciences.

In essence I came to believe that when God is One, everything is one, linked in that network of mutuality that Martin Luther King spoke about that bejeweled garment that Indra once wore.

An entirely new world came into being from that moment on. And, it was a world I wanted to live on and make my home.

I hope we can all have moments of realization just like this. I hope that those moments find you here in our special community or somewhere in the world, encountering the holy wherever and whenever you can. I want all of us to have big, slippery thoughts that excite our holy imaginations and stop us in our tracks and invite us to reconnect with our deepest truths!


Be Blessed and see you in church. Daniel.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Beyond Pews


The Roman Catholic Church is experiencing a tough time.  The Church is journeying through a very rough period, similar to but unlike anything in its history.  The Vatican will soon have a newly elected Pope and a Pope Emeritus; Catholicism is immersed in several scandals that remind all of its fallibility; the faith is hemorrhaging members and advertises for priests; it refuses to hear anything that suggests of breaking the male oligarchy of apostolic succession.  So it was with great interest that I read a recent New York Times op-ed piece.  The title caught my eye immediately: “Give Up Your Pew for Lent.”  The author, Paul Elie - a Roman Catholic and a professor at Georgetown - suggests that with all the confusion-creating events and misconduct in the Catholic Church, it’s time that the faithful take a break and collect their thoughts; he’s urging the faithful to take a “time out” and vacate their pews for a weekend.  And do what with their time?  He’s very clear how the break should be spent:
We should seize this opportunity to ask what is true in our faith, what it costs us in obfuscation and moral compromise, and what its telos, or end purpose, really is.  And we should explore other religious traditions, which we understand poorly. (3/01/2013
I don’t think the writer really believes that anyone who reads his column will follow his advice by spending the weekend church-free.  I’m not really sure that this was his hope or point, but, as I said, the headline sure caught my attention!  And so does the idea.
No, I’m not urging you to take a Sunday off from UUCA.  But consider this: If Elie’s use of “pew” is simply metaphoric - “pew” meaning stability, stasis, or what's expected from the church and yourself - then yes, give up your pew for Lent and maybe more: Give up your pew, forever.  When shouldn’t we be asking what is true in our faith?  It’s always appropriate to wonder what the opaque places are in your belief.  What purpose does your faith serve?  How are we as a faithful community serving each other and those in our region?  How much do you know - first hand - about other religious traditions?
     There are religious traditions where a believer or member can fall into a rut, a routine, the predictable.  I’ve never thought about Unitarian Universalism in this way.  If anything we are just the opposite, often taking great pride in living our faith outside the expected, and contrary to perceived norms.  Yet even the unpredictable can become predictable. Have you ever heard someone at UUCA tell a newcomer after a service, “It’s not this way every Sunday.”  Put enough of those experiences together and it becomes that way every Sunday!  Even in our theology, spirituality and social justice outreach, you’ve got to wonder if there is a particular way to be a Unitarian Universalist.  In other words, taking the time to review and reflect on your faith - to give up your pew - is always a good idea.
          Take care and see you soon,
                   Fred

Monday, February 25, 2013

Practice Being Human (CL)

The theme for the month of March is "Salvation." That word means many things...
But when I think of "Salvation" I think of why many people come to church.
They are looking for something to make them feel "whole" or "healed" or "connected" to a community of purpose, high ideals, and support.

I spend a lot of my time with the new members of our community, organizing and teaching the "Welcome to UUCA" classes. I love teaching these classes, because it is usually the first time that people learn what it truly means to be a Unitarian Universalist. They learn the history, consider our principles and sources of inspiration, and discover how to get connected here at UUCA. I hear a lot of things when I teach these classes... Usually something like "I can't believe this place exists! I am so grateful to have found this church."
What did you think when you found this church?
Or, if you grew up UU, why did you stay?

That starry-eyed, idealistic view of the church is so fun! I love working with people who are optimistic, hopeful, and excited about their place in the church, and the role of the church in the wider world. It is good to be idealistic!
(An aside about idealism: I once had a conversation with an Orthodox Rabbi about what Unitarian Universalism is, and what we believe and honor. After my description he smirked and said, "Isn't that kind of idealistic?" To which I replied, "Isn't that the point of religion? To call us back to our highest calling?"  He smiled and responded, "Point taken.")

The down-side of idealism is that it can be fragile.
People build up the vision of Unitarian Universalism, this faith they have claimed as their own, as the Beloved Community itself. But here's the truth of the matter: The church is a group of people. People are flawed. People make mistakes. And thus, the church does, too.

The vision of our community is that we are striving to BUILD the Beloved Community. We're not there yet. And with the diversity of opinion, viewpoint, and personality that our congregation attracts, we are sure to have disagreements, or hurt feelings occasionally.
But the idealism of our community can help us remember our higher ideals. When we disagree, get frustrated, feel left-out, or have hurt feelings, we can strive to remain in community rather than running away. We can reach out to someone we trust for help and support. We can practice being human.

It was the UU theologian James Luther Adams who once said something like, "Church is where we practice being human." Being human means we make mistakes. Being human means we can sometimes be selfish. Being human means we are not perfect. But, being human can also mean we recognize our errors, we can work to make amends, and we can begin again in love. And only through practice can we strive toward building the Beloved Community.

I meet with people, often, who have felt disappointed by the church.
Maybe their needs aren't being met.
Maybe someone was rude to them in coffee hour.
Maybe they are feeling worried about the direction of the church.
Maybe they can't find their place in this busy community.
I love this church, and I wish that nobody ever felt disappointed.
But, I know that we are all just a group of people, trying our best, and striving to make things right.

Please take this as my personal invitation to reach out if you're feeling disappointed.
Things will not be immediately changed to your specifications.
That's what it means to be in community... We don't always get exactly what we want.
But, your voice can be heard, and your needs can be acknowledged.

If there is something you need--a ride, a phone call, a visit, or a listening ear-- please reach out. There are different options for ministerial support, a lay pastoral care team, and numerous groups that can help out in many ways. We do not have E.S.P. (remember, we're just people!) and we cannot read minds.

We are here to help inspire, and empower, and support.
We all mess up, but our idealism should help us keep going, rather than crumble at the first sign of difficulty. It's hard work, being in a community of humans. But practice can bring us closer to the Beloved Community.
Amen!

-Rev. Christina Leone, CLeone@uuannapolis.org, 410-266-8044 x101.



Thursday, February 21, 2013

JUDGE NOT (JC)



From my recent sermon...
(Matthew 7) "Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. 2 For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. 3 Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your neighbor, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' while the log is in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye.”


This scripture was preserved for us by a writer who was a Jewish reformer and his central character, Jesus, is just that.  In the story, this Reformer is taking the ancient laws preserved by the ancient Israelites and giving them a modern twist.  Essentially the message, which is apropos then and now, is that the law can be quite hypocritical.  That is, the leaders, the ones who set the laws and tell us how to live often-times do other inappropriate or even immoral acts.  DO AS I SAY BUT NOT AS I DO.  We can infer that he wonder where compassion and love are.
 
His message is not saying you should never judge--that would be a misinterpretation.  Fact is we judge all the time about people, places and things.  To judge is to form an estimate or evaluation of; to form an opinion about through careful weighing of evidence and testing of premises."  We all do this.  We form opinions, evaluations, estimations everyday.  To judge is not the great evil.  The problem--the great evil arises with hypocrisy.  Hypocrisy defined is:  a feigning to be what one is not or to believe what one does not; especially : the false assumption of an appearance of virtue.”   The writer is suggesting that those standing in judgment are potentially guilty of even worse offenses.  They are “feigning to be what they aren’t”. 
 
To sit in judgment when you KNOW you are just as guilty or even MORE is a moral failure in your personal life and in society at large; too many innocents have suffered.  The lesson is we must examine our life first before we decide to over-examine another. 

Judging is human.  We will make judgments but be careful.   The writer warns that we will be judged by others at some point and the situation(s) will use the same compassion or apathy we’ve shown toward others’.  Because of the cosmic law of reaping and sowing, more than likely, as you judge "so shall YOU be judged." Careful! 
 

I believe we project so much about ourselves when we harshly or hypocritically judge, whether we are judging ourselves or others.  We are showing a deep-seated insecurity about who and what we are.  Whether in school, at work, or in our relationship, we all, if we are not careful, project our issues on to others.  What manifests is their need to judge us in return.  The war begins.    
 
The only cure is forgiving and practicing non-judgment.  Making sure the logs are out of your eyes.
 

Make forgiving and non-judgement your spiritual practice. I fail every week at it but I keep trying!  It's not about perfection but practice; about being cognizant of your thoughts and words.   Here is your lesson for this week.  Begin a spiritual practice that will help you to be more at-ease and in less dis-ease with yourself and others.
 
Prayer/Thought/Meditation:
 Spirit, let every breath I breathe be sacred.  Let every word I speak be true.  Let everything I do be holy and may it leave me fresh and renewed.  
Amen.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Sifting Through Disappointment (DG)





Today is Ash Wednesday. And, I am not anticipating many of us coming to the church today to receive ashes in the ancient Christian tradition, but we are open. If you do come you might leave disappointed, because we stopped doing that rite 5 or so hundred years ago.

Ash Wednesday marks the start of the Lenten season, a 40 day time period of sacrifice, abstinence and contemplation in preparation for Easter --another holiday many of us look forward to with great excitement. At Easter we will celebrate renewal, the return of spring, and maybe even the resurrection of… hope or a savior.

You should know I have mixed feelings about Easter. For now, suffice it to say, through my ambivalence I recognize in the holiday a chance to connect with history and traditions, (Perhaps even great music. Easter is made for Bach after all).

Easter is down a long road of embodied memories that might not be my own personal memories, but pieces of collective consciousness. All of these things are part and parcel of the religious experience, and by extension—the human experience. I recognize in the austerities of Lent too, a certain opportunity to connect with a history that is absolutely not my own. I am, after all, a dyed in the wool 21st century, Unitarian Universalist. But the memories of Lent might include me all the same. The memories are irresistible and they might even suck you into them too!

Embodied memories? Collective memories? At first, it all sounds strange and impossible; like a post-modernist excursus gone over one bridge too far. Is there anything that we can collectively remember? And, how might we recall it, if we needed to? Especially, if we needed it to save our own lives? This is something that transcends heritage. It’s not American or French memory, Victorian or 22nd century memory, but human memory. It’s transcendent in that way.

I think that transcendent human memory might be disappointment, a collective human remembrance of unmet expectations. We have all been disappointed about something:
Disappointed about ourselves or our abilities.
Our lack of ability.

By our failures and sometimes even disappointed about our successful accomplishments. (L'Embarras des richesses)  Perhaps we did it “too” well, or too fast, or too slow, or not at all.

Disappointed by loved ones who weren’t there, who are here. Or the children whose personal ambitions contradicted our own, more robust ambitions for them.

Perhaps we are disappointed that human lives are short and filled with uncertainties and dreams and reversals of fortune.

And, we might be disappointed that in the end a hero will not come to save us from ourselves? Mission “not” accomplished.

Whatever, the specific disappointment, we all share in the experience of disappointment and its memory.
Our culture provides us with many anodynes to distract us from the pains of disappointment and a host of fancy drugs to avoid the memory. However, if we want to overcome our disappointment, we must pass with full consciousness through them.

I recommend in the days and weeks leading up the celebration of Easter we consider passing through our own Lenten period to contemplate the memory of life’s shortcomings, reflecting and sifting through the disappointments that are our human heritage. We may draw on tradition, ritual and memories—our own or the memories of others. (The Christian mythos might be useful) As we do this, let us look real hard for lessons and other buried treasure; new opportunities hidden in the old ones. We will have to make sacrifices, perhaps the first of which will need to be our pride, and the second our guilt and third –shame. Let’s also look for forgiveness, our theme for the month, it might be the hardest thing to find, but it is worth the search. If we can find forgiveness in the muck of disappointments use it on yourself first and then on others.

We can always talk about the experience, our triumphs and our set-backs. See you in church. Daniel.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Forgive Us Our Sins


We talked about sin all week long.  Surprised?  We were 425 strong.  That many Unitarian Universalists ministers who gathered for the second Institute for Excellence in (UU) Ministry.  Four days of continuing education (5 hours a day), morning worship (90 minutes), vespers (60 minutes), and relaxing conversations (the inspirational to the mundane).  And lots of talk about sin!  Imagine, all those UU ministers talking about this quintessential idea and motivation in the Christian religion!

I’ll confess (which seems appropriate given my topic!) that no one ever said the word sin.  OK, maybe we did say sin once or twice, but that’s irrelevant because we - I - understood; we understood that sin is alive and well in Unitarian Universalism - and elsewhere too, but we were gathered as UUs so we kept it personal.
            We rarely mentioned or used the word sin.  What was heard was a lot of talk about completeness and wholeness; that the purpose, goal, desire and hope in our lives, in the congregations where we serve, is to create opportunities for people to feel complete and whole, especially since the forces of sin are so prevalent.
            And what is sin?  It’s fragmentation, splintering; sin is being broken.  Confession is admitting and naming that we are broken, we are not the people we want to be, at our deepest level we are incomplete.  And let’s name all the reasons for incompleteness and brokenness - what contributes to you feeling unfulfilled or incomplete in your deepest self?  I’ll suggest that many - even most? - of the reasons have to do with being separated from your heart’s/soul’s longing.  In this context, brokenness - or sin - is the space made, the void in our lives, because we are not centered or grounded, we are untethered to that which gives meaning, direction and spirit to living.
            We are so quick - or maybe I am so quick - to talk about a desire for wholeness or completeness without naming an essential truth that shapes this need: In order to start on the path to wholeness, there must be a desire for healing which starts with brokenness.  I mean, if your hope is for being made whole, your starting place must be realizing that you’re not whole, that you’re incomplete, that you are broken.  And it’s been my experience that many UUs are not very open to or proficient with the posture and language of humility - a basic requirement of setting out on the journey.  I’m reminded of a book I read many years ago.  It’s title was On Not Leaving It to the Snake.  The book was a theological and ethical presentation of the Garden story (Adam, Eve and the snake).  The writer explored Adam’s and Eve’s resistance to accepting responsibility for their actions, their brokenness, their sins and their unwillingness to admit that they’d blown it and seek forgiveness (which, of course, requires humility).  So much easier to leave the blame to the snake!
            So, there you have it - four days of conversation into a blog posting!  What I returned with is a very big question.  I accept that I am broken, I know I “long to be made whole” (in the words of a hymn), and I know I can’t do this alone - so, how does congregational life fit into it all?  How do we support, nurture and love each other onto a path that takes us out of or away from  brokenness?  Isn’t this what we expect from our faith community?  Isn’t it?
            See you soon.  See you in church,
                        Fred