But after the events of the last six weeks, an hour is not going to accomplish all that is needed. The world has been a stunningly demanding place, as of late. I don't think I'm the only one who would greatly benefit from a whole extra day inserted into this weekend. This day would need to be completely free of ordinary or irritating chores, (i.e. paying bills, doing laundry, going grocery shopping, etc.) We need a genuine Sabbath; a day of rest and renewal. A day dedicated to:

* Sleep. At the very least naps. For all of us who have had some sleep disturbance connected to the images of war and murder and biological terrorism, it seems to me that a day ought to be set aside for the impromptu snooze, the unapologetic "No, I'm sorry, he can't come to the phone or attend that meeting; he is asleep…" How sweet to fall asleep on the sofa, while watching an old and comforting movie.

* Leaf Peeping. Especially in New England, this is the week to catch the leaves at their most brilliant. Extreme beauty has a way of restoring our vision and clearing our minds. A drive out into the countryside, or even a walk through your neighborhood, can bathe you in golden light, with enough red and pink and yellow and green to lift your spirits.

* Reading. How can you, or I or anyone else, develop a decent foreign policy and a thoughtful domestic strategy, if we can't read what's being written in the press, or absorb what is available on the Web? So much is now being debated and researched and discussed, that some Unitarian Universalists are falling behind! (I won't mention names.) Those of us who love information and analysis and who have strong opinions about how the world ought to be organized, need more time to read! And that's just for studying current events.

There is a whole other category of essential reading, which has been euphemistically called, "recreational reading." But those of us who love fiction, and mysteries, and "light-weight magazines" understand that such reading is an important part of good mental health. A mind needs somewhere to go that seems safe, and fun and wholly diversionary. The "good life" has to include a place where the imagination is engaged and nourished.

* Companionship. Who gets to spend enough time with friends? Are you able to "break bread" often enough with the family and the friends who feed your soul? An extra day would allow us to have at least one meal with some of the people who help us to laugh and to remember what counts. A good dinner with close friends can be as restorative as a small vacation.

* Meditation and Prayer. Most of us will acknowledge that we need to make more time to center, to ask God for help, to focus on the sources of our courage. We claim that our busy schedules don't allow us the luxury of a spiritual discipline. An extra day would open us some space for the first commandment, "to love God with all your heart and soul and mind."

* Volunteering. We keep saying we want to help. But when we are actually able to "love our neighbor," to "offer service to the stranger," we receive a kind of satisfaction that cannot be found anywhere else.

Of course, not even an "extra day fantasy" can hold all the Sabbath that is needed. Already, my fantasy day is overcrowded with naps, autumn strolls, reading, dinner parties, meditation, and good works. I guess I'll have to find a way to fit these life-giving activities into the ordinary days ahead. Maybe, even a little every day. Possibly, even today.

©The Rev. Thomas Schade, 2001

Remember that old TV commercial in which the announcer urgently asked, as though it was one of the great philosophical conundrums of the modern age: "CERTS! Is It a Breath Mint? Or a Candy Mint?" Fortunately before the family could choose sides and start throwing popcorn at each other, they would let us know that CERTS is, in fact, both. Whew! What a relief!

It is also a relief to remember both the Left and the Right bring invaluable insights to the shaping of our response to this new situation.

The Insights of the Right: The Right reminds us that it is the first duty of the government to protect us from our enemies, both foreign and domestic, to ensure the peace and safety of the people, and to maintain the rule of law and civil order. The Right questions if there is ever a justification for violations of the law, and attacks on the safety of the people. It brings a laser like focus on a single question: what must be done to prevent this from ever happening again and includes among the steps that must be done, the finding and punishing of those who did it. The Right believes that punishment is a deterrent. The Right reminds us that the government must have at hand the tools and powers it needs to do this job. The Right also understands that a sense of national solidarity and patriotism is among the strengths of the people and the nation. 

The clarity that the Right brings to this situation is its laser like focus, and its willingness to subordinate all other concerns to the resolution of this problem. 

The Insights of the Left: The wisdom of the Left lies not in its laser-like focus, but in its appreciation for the complexity of every situation. It reminds us that history is an ongoing process in which all elements are acting and reacting to each other. It wants us to understand all the events that have led up to the present moment, and all the possible consequences of each of our possible reactions. It reminds us that the world is a vast and diverse place, and that all of the actors in the present drama have their own understandings of right, wrong, justice and injustice. The Left reminds us that most of the world’s people are not actors in these political and historical dramas, but simple, ordinary, and innocent people trying to survive in a hostile world. The Left urges us to develop our sense of loyalty and solidarity with people the world over and to not indulge a childlike sense that no one anywhere could ever have a good reason to be angry at the United States.

The Left is particularly frustrated these days; I sense that it feels that its insights and understandings are not heeded, nor appreciated, by governmental leaders, or by their fellow citizens.

But the liberals, the pacifists, the peace activists, and the internationalists should take heart. Two of their biggest fears have not materialized. There has been no spasm of blind violent rage in the form of massive and indiscriminate bombing of Afghanistan, at least not to date. And while there have been far too many incidents of bias and hate crimes against Arab or Muslim people, community leaders everywhere, from the President on down, have done whatever they could to protect innocent people from misdirected rage and bigotry. Mosques and Islamic centers are also reporting receiving an unprecedented wave of gestures of solidarity and concern. Much of this is due to the good works of the Left over the years. 

While policy seems to have a mostly rightward cast right now, it is clear that the concerns of the Left are having an influence on it. And every citizen would be wise to heed the Left’s advice to seek new and more self-aware understandings of all the issues at work in the present moment. 

CERTS is both a breath mint and a candy mint. Food can both taste good and be good for you. Either/Or choices usually come down to Both/And. The Right and the Left bring "gifts of different measure." Have we hearts large enough to accept both?

©The Rev. Thomas Schade, 2001

Even before the Taliban, in fundamentalist Islamic culture, westerners have been understood as a profound threat. Women are kept invisible. The very idea of women with faces, women being educated, women travelling alone, women being independent is deeply disturbing to their world view. They also feel violated by the ideas of democracy, freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and an open society.

It should not have come as such a surprise that many of these radical fundamentalist extremists want us dead. They want western civilization destroyed. And the terrorists' September 11th strike on our shores was a devastating blow.
 In a recent statement, bin Laden encouraged his terrorist armies with the observation that the United States is a surprisingly "weak and vulnerable target" for their assaults.

I can only surmise that what he meant was that we are a remarkably trusting and open and unguarded society. Bin Laden's idea of a well-fortified, secure country is one with a totalitarian government, with high walls (and all women hidden behind those walls). There would be soldiers everywhere with assault rifles. No one would step out of line, because there would be a swift and brutal response. The extremists put their hopes in an environment of massive external force and rigid controls, where life and death powers would be exercised by only a few. Bin Laden and his ilk, see a democracy such as ours, as weak and chaotic, as militarily and morally vulnerable. He honestly believes he can bring down western civilization, and he has every intention of doing so.

We, the American people, have woken up to a world where we have real enemies, who not only intend to do us great harm, but who did so September 11th. They have vowed that they will do it again.

In a certain sense, you're not paying attention (you're not even lucid), if you aren't afraid of this threat. On the other hand, fear can cripple us, paralyze us, and weaken us worse than any terrorist attack.

Fear is an adaptive, biological response to threat. "Flight" is sometimes the very best instinct when it comes to real danger. Many more people would have been killed in New York, if they had not run away from the World Trade Towers.

But you can't run away from your home; your city: your country. The fact is we are vulnerable when we fly, and when we trust that our air, water, and food have not been poisoned. We do have a disciplined and wealthy enemy who has promised that they will do everything they can to hurt us. So what is the appropriate response? What is a normal response? What is a spiritually healing response?

In the last few weeks, I've been troubled by a number of distressing reactions that I believe are ultimately ineffectual or self-destructive. They have included: (1) Blaming the victim (if America had a better foreign policy, this wouldn't have happened); (2) The Political Cure: From both the far right and the far left, I hear that if we could only get on exactly the right policy track (either massive military force or pacifism), the bad guys would go away; and, (3) The Quietist/Escapist Response: Do nothing. Shut down. Hide. Be very quiet. Maybe it will all blow over and we can return to our routines.
 The one not very fruitful option that keeps distracting me is when I find myself volunteering to both keep up with terrible, dangerous rumors (on the radio, tv, and newspapers) and to think of myself as a self-appointed national policy advisor. Sometimes I think it is in my Unitarian genes, to believe that with enough information and thoughtful reflection, any problem can be solved. (If only I could find someone to take my advice…)

May I suggest a few other ways to live with the uncertainty and perceived danger in the immediate future? Of course, each of us will need to find our own way to breathe deeply. We need to inhabit the vulnerability of our lives (even before September 11th). But if you're feeling a little shaky, like most of the U.S. population, consider taking the following steps:

1. The Nature Cure: As the poet Wendell Berry wrote, "When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things…for a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free."

1. The Service Cure: Do whatever you can to make the world a more hospitable and welcoming place. The opportunities for service are everywhere and all the time. Express your gratitude to others. Do what you can do to repair the relationships in your life. Use your gifts to repair a broken world.

1. The Celebration/Community Cure: Go out to dinner with friends. Come to Church. Attend weddings and go on picnics and gather at family reunions. Fear cannot coexist with laughter and meaningful engagement with others, and the joy that arises from good company.

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

The first was the Oxford Dictionary of Allusions, a handy volume for decoding the meaning of a comparison to Uriah Heep (obsequiousness and false humility) or a reference to Loki (the Scandinavian God of mischief.) I thought, "What a useful book!" The thought did cross my mind that with it, I could seem much more educated, making learned allusions to classic literature, without actually having to read it. 

You see, I don’t enough time for classic literature, because I watch too much TV. So, I was also interested in the second book, "The Gospel of The Simpsons" by Mark I. Pinsky, a Conservative Jew who writes for Christianity Today. Now, if you knew who created Uriah Heep, and where Loki ruled, but draw a blank on "the Simpsons," you may want to turn the page now. I even give you permission to mutter something about the shocking decline in standards for seminary education. 

The Simpsons are, of course, the cartoon family who are the protagonists of the longest running prime time television show, shown on the Fox network on Sunday nights, and seemingly at all times on some station or another in syndication. They are not listed in the Oxford Dictionary of Allusions, but I would wager that many more people could name an essential character trait of Homer Simpson than of Uriah Heep. 

The Simpsons show satirizes everything in our culture with the freedom of an animated cartoon. Every episode is filled with dozens of visual jokes and sight gags. Marge Simpson, the mother, is shown reading a magazine entitled, "Better Homes than Yours." It is one of the few TV shows where characters themselves actually watch TV. And it is one of the few TV shows in which the characters go to church and have religious lives. 

According to Mark Pinsky, the series accurately satirizes the religious life of our culture. Unitarians have long chuckled over its many Unitarian jokes, but those are a part of a larger picture of American religion. 

Homer and Bart Simpson, every man and his son, are the main characters. To them, the goal in life is to do whatever you want while avoiding God, who is out to punish you. If you get into big trouble, it might make sense to pray for help, but it usually doesn’t work. When asked his religion by his children, Homer replies, "You know, the one with all the good ideas that don’t actually work out in practice: Christianity." 

And why should Homer and Bart have a positive view of religion? The series shows in full detail how they could believe that religion is boring, impractical and irrelevant.

The family goes to the First Church of Springfield, where Homer snoozes and Bart squirms while the unctuous Rev. Lovejoy preaches dully on one of the more blood thirsty verses of scripture. Outside the sign reads, "Where God Gets Together with His Victims." 

Another side of religion is shown by Homer’s neighbor, Ned Flanders, a cheerfully faithful evangelical Protestant. Ned is goofy and a little out of touch. For example, the only video game that Ned’s children are allowed to play is Billy Graham’s Bible Verse Blaster. The aim of the game, to convert the heathen, is converted by hitting them with bible verses; a glancing blow turns them just to Unitarians. His family goes to church camp where they "can learn to be more judgmental." But Ned is not a hypocrite, and loving your neighbor is difficult when he is Homer Simpson.

Rounding out the religious picture is daughter Lisa, not yet 10 years old, but already an environmentalist, a vegetarian, a free-thinking skeptic, a highly-principled do-gooder for whom the world is a constant disappointment, and who mostly gets on other people’s nerves. 

Are these our religious choices? Boring traditionalism, or an otherworldly but aggressive, evangelism, or grim social reformism? Satire shows us our foibles, but rarely proposes new ways of being. 

Behind all the jokes and gags, the Simpson’s show implies a deep religious hunger, a hunger for an engaged and authentic life of faith in which good ideas are practiced. Such hunger, of course, cannot be satisfied by watching TV, even though Homer calls it his "teacher, mother and secret lover." Such a hunger cannot even be satisfied by good books filled with allusions to better literature. But attention must be paid to those longings so deep that they are silently affirmed in even the most irreverent popular satire. To surface those longings, to name them, to bring them out of the silence, these are the first steps of the greater journey.

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

I chose Paris, and went to fulfill my fantasy of living in a garret, and being a freelance writer. The garret was in the oldest section of Paris, the Marais, where all my friends lived. My apartment was located in a tiny hotel, the Hotel Des Celestins, on Rue Des Lions. It was a fourth floor, walk-up attic room, with a sink, a hot plate, and a bathroom down the stairs. (If my memory serves me, it cost around $200 a month.)

From the window, I could look out over the rooftops of Paris. When I got up in the wee hours of the morning to meditate, the nightclub across the street was just closing its door. I could sit in complete silence.

It was a family-owned and operated hotel. They were friendly to the "divinity student" who lived in their attic. Another young woman also lived at the hotel. One day I met her in the hallway with a man she introduced as her "uncle." Another day, she introduced another man as a "cousin." It took only a few of these encounters before I realized that some of the hotel rooms were rented by the hour, and that this particular young woman was what we called, back then, "a working girl." Even if the hotel was a bit run down (having been built in the 1400's), it fit both my budget and my Bohemian self-image.

The neighborhood itself was a wonderful mixture of blue collar, working class Parisians, and wealthy apartment dwellers. I think we had the best bakery in the city on Rue St. Paul, where the dough was never frozen, and the fresh baguettes in the morning were the happiest way to start any day. In that neighborhood, people developed a close and important relationship with each shop owner.

I returned to the Marais twenty-five years later. And the neighborhood had profoundly changed. I was broken-hearted. The bakery had closed and had been replaced by an expensive antique shop. All the run-down sections had been gentrified. Working people could no longer afford to live in the area. But the Hotel des Celestins was still there! I approached with hope that the family was still operating the twelve-room hotel. But "quelle horreur!" It had been transformed into an exclusive, and very costly, Inn. The least expensive room was $250 a night! Who knows what they were charging for the attic (now apparently…the penthouse).

It was Heraclitus, in ancient times (approximately 500 B.C.E.), who sounded the warning that "you cannot step twice into the same river…for other waters are continually flowing in."

This was true of a small hotel in the Marais. It is also true of our religious community. Each Sunday I do an intuitive, informal roll call. I am constantly amazed and delighted by who shows up. I almost always wonder about the many who are absent. Mostly, I am aware of what a unique difference each individual worshipper makes to a religious service.

It's not the way you sing the hymns, or the seat you sit in. I believe it has more to do with your laughter, your smile, your tears, your prayers, your particular longing for wholeness and peace. It is the way you greet a friend and the way you greet a stranger. Because so much of what we communicate is non-verbal, I suspect that we don't truly appreciate the power of our presence.

Members of the parish, who have returned to the church after a long absence, often remark to me how much the church has changed; how different the worship feels to them. Seeing that we are using exactly the same liturgy, and the same minister is up front preaching (pretty much, various versions of the same sermon), and the hymns haven't changed, and the choir is singing mostly the timeless classics, it's fairly obvious to me what the visitor is observing. The entire tone and feel of the service is determined by who is in attendance. As the congregation is fed by the spiritual lives of new and active members, we look and feel like a whole new place. Every week. As the attendance changes, so does the church.

It is always my hope that when you attend Sunday Services, that you come away feeling spiritually nourished and more ready to meet the challenges of your life. But please be aware; you are also a blessing to your fellow worshippers. You help the rest of us.
©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

My favorite moment in the evening was after all of the statements had been read. There was a real diversity of religious beliefs expressed. We went to the dining room for dessert. And all the kids, who had such different ways of describing the world, God, and what they found trustworthy, all sat together laughing, sharing friendship and fellowship! Unitarian Universalism works! People who disagree theologically, can be an enormous blessing to one another.

The full statements will be published, with names, by the Religious Education Committee. But I wanted the larger congregation to have a sampling. Here are a few lines I have taken from much larger statements. May they bless you on your journey.

• "We come to worship, that is true, but it is just as important to recognize that we come together because of a need for community. All human beings are united by some divine power. It is foolish for anyone to believe that they could survive without others. We all need help. We all have something powerful to share; kindness. God is the binding force between all human beings; the glue that holds us together. God is a presence in this world as a whole and a presence that is deep within us…We are all united. Not just the members of our church, nor Unitarian Universalists, but all of humankind."
• "I find comfort in that which I can observe with my senses, but at the same time would be disappointed if that was all there was. I hold out hope in the unknown, that something greater is a controlling force in my life and in the events that occur in this world in which I live. So I still consider myself an agnostic, I can not be sure that there is a God, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a guiding force somewhere helping me get through."
• "I have been able to receive a sense of well-being and hope from those people who have trust in me…With my family and friends supporting me, who can listen to me and have faith in me, I have come to realize that maybe the divine, or what is holy, can be found in all of us…There has to be some consequence to the way you live your life. My belief is based on the thought that when people die, they may come back into the world for a second chance to be better people—to make their journeys into legends."
• "I believe in diversity. Part of what makes for a healthy environment for spiritual growth is the absence of sameness. This way, people are able to extract bits and pieces of whole or fractured beliefs to develop their own. I believe in support. Here, you will not be ridiculed for who you are or what you believe. The entirety of this church is behind each individual. This church promotes individuality and celebrates in one another's talents, and helps everyone to find themselves. I believe in the never-ending pursuit of spirituality. The journey is never over. I believe, or at least I want to believe, that there is a God. A little tiny spark of overwhelming, unconditional love, acceptance and truth within each person. God is not only within, but also without. Surrounding as encompassing, a safety net.
• "I believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Of all of the Unitarian Universalist principles… this one is the most important. To me, it doesn't matter if a person is black or white, Catholic or Muslim, gay or straight—these factors do no measure a person's worth or dignity…I have made it a personal obligation to be more understanding and sympathetic to others.
• "Church, for me, is a place where I am unconditionally accepted; no matter what it is I put my faith in, and encouraged when I find things to be not quite as faithful as I had hoped…I have grown up within the walls of this church. I was christened here, I am now being affirmed here, and I hope someday to be married within this same building. Although it is not the building that inspires my emotions, it is the building that gives me comfort, security, and strength. It is with the people that the real connection has occurred. I have made longtime friends, permanent mentors, and many acquaintances. Seeing these faces gives me confidence, reassurance, acceptance, and warmth…I come to church to enhance my mind, to heal my feelings, and to rejuvenate my soul…I have faith in the ordinary and I have hope for the truly amazing."

"I have learned that one's beliefs flow through life…The knowledge that my beliefs can and will change over my lifetime has comforted me and given me the strength to voice my beliefs, disclaimer free. At this point in my life, as a 17 year old successful, privileged student with good friends, a family which she deeply cherishes, and a bright future, I believe that I am an atheist. I feel too in control of my world and too content with it to believe that there is a force greater than myself behind my happiness…Perhaps those of an older generation will think me foolish and juvenile to say this. They will say that Life plays tricks on you, and just when you think you're getting what you want, something will happen to take it out of your reach. But those moments are precisely what I meant when I said that life experiences alter one's beliefs. I'll worry about those times when they come, and if it means believing in a stronger power, then so be it, I'm open to change." 
• "I have always been unsure of the existence of a greater power, and yet innumerable times I have directed my wishes and prayers to this very thing I am unsure of. I know that I want to believe in God, and I think that I do. When I think of the creation of the universe, and when I see so much evil in the world and how good seems to prevail in spite of it, I find it hard to believe that a greater power does not exist, and comforting to think that there is something looking out for us. I think it's worthwhile to assume that God exists. For when we pray to God, we thank the divine for our gifts, and send our sympathies to those in trouble…Maybe God is an old man with a beard; maybe it's an essence, an aura that surrounds the universe and is in each and every living thing, I don't know."
• "Even though I have grown up a Unitarian, it is not unusual that I still don't know what to tell my friends when they ask about Unitarian Universalism...I believe God has many forms. Sometimes I feel he is the spirit of all living things. Other times I see him as an old man sitting on a cloud. Therefore, to me, God is anything I need him to be at that time in my life. He is someone to pray to or a spirit all around me…I have faith in my family. I associate them to religion because they are sacred to me and I believe religion is anything sacred. My family is always there for me and I know they always will be. No matter what I do or what I look like, they will be there as a shoulder to cry on, someone to celebrate with, or someone to lend a helping hand. I also have faith that tomorrow will be better than today. The sun will rise and things will continue to grow and change.
• I believe that if you can accept who you are, and what your strengths and weaknesses are, then you can accomplish anything. I try to appreciate all that I have in my life, such as the unconditional love of my friends and family. To me, it is very important to learn to live with and love yourself…another belief that I hold close to me is that you should try to find the joy in every minute. Although at times life is very serious and stressful, I try to be positive no matter what."
• "Sometimes, I think a divine spirit exists in nature, 

and is behind all natural existences. The universe and planet Earth are inspirations of the holy thing. Things that are holy to me are elements of nature, and all existences for which mankind is not responsible. It is an inexplicable miracle how millions of species and a fertile planet arose from a single bang and an infinite amount of disorganized molecules…When I think about existence analytically, I think of a totally natural, scientific process with no overseeing creator or being….I speculate on the purpose of life. I believe it is something different for every person. I haven't figured out the purpose of my life yet. It might be to figure out as much as I can about the answer to this question. I also think that helping others to enjoy their lives is a major goal of living."

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

Hear! Hear! That sounds like a good idea, (and I have heard that under the twin suns of the planet Zoomar, there are actual employees who rest from their labors while on vacation).

Here on Earth (or at least among the leafy suburbs of New England), vacation is that time when highly educated and
technologically savvy professionals leave all their labor-saving devices and aids to personal productivity at the office, so they can work like 16th century peasants on the landed estates of the upper classes, (otherwise known as their own homes). 

I have many projects planned and already afoot. My house is surrounded by the piled up rubble of a stockade fence I have already torn down. There is a large patch of blacktop in my miniscule backyard, which I will remove and have hauled away.And then I shall transform my little plot of God's green earth into a charming cottage garden, like something one would see in the Cotswalds. I also plan to paint some of the larger rooms of the house. Now mind you, I don't know how to do any of these things, nor do I have the proper tools. In fact, I have only the vaguest notion of where the Cotswalds actually are, or why they are so named.

But I am absolutely sure that the whole experience will be refreshing to my soul and restful in ways I cannot yet imagine. Just like I am absolutely sure that I will make many new friends who wear orange vests and work at Home Depot.

I do plan to escape my labors for a few things. On Thursday, May 17th, I will be at the Worcester Interfaith meeting at Trinity Lutheran Church. Worcester Interfaith, after a process of neighborhood meetings, has put together an agenda of five items for the city to consider, including branch libraries, after-school recreation programs, and improved sidewalks. I plan to be there to rally in support of these worthwhile goals and urge our elected officials to implement them.

I also plan to make it to the final dinner event for the Affirmation program that some of our high school youth have been working on all year. I had a chance to spend time with them twice this year. One was a lunch discussion of Unitarian and Universalist history, including some of the history of this parish. The other was lunch discussion of worship and liturgy. (They were relieved to hear that not all of the adults were 100% attentive throughout the worship service either. Worship, after all, is supposed to be suggestive, to be evocative, and to make you think.) At a time in life when many young people lose interest in the religions of their families, the Affirmation class was digging deeper with interest and enthusiasm. Of course, I will come out to honor them at the end of their efforts.

The real problem is that our senior minister, the Rev. Dr. Merritt, has forbidden me to come into the office while on vacation. I had been hoping to sneak over and spend a day or two, curled up with a good book in my office, a quiet and peaceful environment far from the reproach of unfinished tasks and deferred domestic dreams. I guess I will have to go to the library instead.

©Thomas Schade, 2001

 The story of our wedding gets funnier to us as the years go by. Certainly, people have spent much more on their wedding, and been married for a much shorter time. I calculate that our wedding costs per day of marriage is around five cents. By way of contrast, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston will need to be married nearly 55,000 years before their wedding cost per day of marriage drops down to a nickel. Nobody stays that cute for that long.

 I hope that these twenty five years have been good for Sue, because they have been very affirming to me. One of the most hurtful criticisms my mother ever made of me as a child was that while I seemed to care about people and causes all around the world, I did not seem to care about the people right around me. And she warned me that such selfishness would make living with me unpleasant, and that I would be lonely as a result. Life with Sue and my daughters finally convinced me that perhaps my mother had overstated her case back then, for her own reasons. I recommend to all, by the way, that you compare the reality of your life with your parents' most dire predictions of your fate. In most cases, you will see that you have done better than they feared. That knowledge should be good for the self-esteem.

 One of the great joys of a longer-term marriage is that so many people support you with advice, congratulations, and good wishes. People are pulling for you to make it. Oh, there are always some people who remind you that some marriages end in painful divorce at 30 or 35 years, but even they are just trying to be helpful. 

 This public support is a great privilege. It is a great injustice that gays and lesbians aren’t offered this same support and good wishes for their 
long-term relationships. This came home to me powerfully the first time I went to the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas. The flowers in the chancel that Sunday were in honor of the 49-year partnership of two men in the congregation, both then in their seventies. How humiliating and isolating it must be when the most important relationship in your life is rarely acknowledged, affirmed or celebrated by others! 

 Our national discussion about gay marriage is far from over, and of course, many people have many different opinions. There are important legal and policy issues at stake. Speaking for myself, I have become aware of how much joy the memory of our inexpensive and low key wedding brings me, even with the leisure suit and earth shoes and all. I have become aware of how much we have been helped in our marriage by the continuing public celebration of our union. It seems like simple justice that this joy be extended to every couple who is willing to take the pledge to love forever.

©Thomas Schade, 2001

But then we feel a soft, warm breeze, and we smell the sweetness of a lily, and we see that the world seems to be suddenly filled with light. Poetry recognizes the reality of death and rocks, but it reminds us that there is always something more.

From the poet, Wendell Berry…

          Great deathly powers have passed:
          The black and bitter cold, the wind
          That broke and felled strong trees, the rind
          Of ice that held at last
          Even the fleshly heart
          In cold that made it seem a stone.
          And now there comes again the one
          First Sabbath light, the Art
          That unruled, uninvoked,
          Unknown, makes new again and heals,
          Restores heart's flesh so that it feels
          Anew the old deadlocked
          Goodness of its true home
          That it will lose again and mourn,
          Remembering the year reborn
          In almost perfect bloom
          In almost shadeless wood,
          Sweet air that neither burned nor chilled
          In which the tenderest flowers prevailed,
          The light made flesh and blood.

From a poet, who is a member of this parish, Inger Gilbert…  (for the full text of the poem click here)

     no water here, running amongst the rocks
     cooling their heat, softening their surface,
     allowing their thirst,
     preparing the ground
     how easy it is to come to a hard place,
     remain there, believing
     of any further advance, change, forgiveness
     that it must come from the harshness, the rigidity, the darkness
     that it must come from the battle,
     the conflict of hardness with hardness,
     force against force
     in the mind, amongst the words
     in the body, amongst the bones
     forgetting the nine-month's confinement,
     the darkness, the crowdedness, the isolation,
     miraculously succeeded by light, air, spaciousness,
     eyes meeting eyes, lungs opening like inward wings,
     the breath, the rhythm, the cadence
     of rising and falling
     of taking in and letting go
     of holding and releasing,
     the tides from their appointments
     submerging, circumscribing the land,
     the place unto which you came
     your birth into accumulation, into release, into unfolding
     how easy it is to forget
     that which is closest to us
     that which is most intimate, most faithful, most enduring
     the breath, the blue gift,
     softest presence in your grief,
     silent attendance in your want,
     the cutting of the umbilical cord
     forging new passage, new gesture,
     the air carried
     deep into the blood,
     the journey begun…

                              May this Easter open your imagination to new life,
                the light made flesh and blood…that which is most intimate, most faithful, most enduring.

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

Come by First Unitarian any evening. The new halogen lights directed onto the freshly painted and restored steeple have created a stunning and beautiful new illumination to our church and to the city skyline. The lights, a gift from Ivan Spear in memory of his wife Hope, were awaiting the completion of the new roof. Now that the lights are fully operational, the exterior architectural beauty of this church can be seen from miles away. We should all take some small consolation, that a part of the work of restoration is completed. "It is better to light one steeple, than to curse an empty, mold-ridden, scaffold-filled sanctuary."

The engineers and architects and mold experts are working hard at the "mold mitigation." For those of you who missed the congregational informational meeting, you might not have heard that construction in the main church came to a dead halt in mid-January, when mold was spotted behind the brackets in the ceiling. When scientific testing was done, it was clear that we had a severe mold problem. The massive amounts of water used to put out the June fire had soaked into the cellulose insulation in the attic. The wet insulation then traveled into the cavities in the walls, under the pulpit and into the balconies. Cellulose, we have come to learn, is an ideal food for mold and bacterial growth.

While the exact procedures and contract specifications for this specialized clean-up are still coming in, the most likely product to be used in the restoration is ordinary bleach. But in order to get to where the mold is growing, it is likely that the wall behind the pulpit will have to be removed, as well as some of the sub-flooring in the balconies.

If everything goes smoothly (and when do construction projects go smoothly?), if the insurance company swiftly approves the considerable expenditure to remedy the mold problem, the soonest we can return to the sanctuary is December 21, 2001. I suggest we hold this goal and this date "lightly" in our minds and hearts.

Tom Shade's April Fool's sermon suggested that instead of bleach, we try to import some mold eating lizards, who would be controlled by lizard-eating cats, whose population would be kept down by predatory birds, mainly osprey, that would keep watch from the balconies and the chandeliers. Birds can be messy, so Tom also suggested marksmen/markspeople/marxists who could shoot the large lizards that were interrupting Sunday worship. Probably we'll go with the bleach.

No one could have ever described to me how long, and how difficult, it would be to rebuild a church. Now that it looks like we'll be in exile for at least a year and a half, we are approaching new dangers. We can't attract as many new members. We'll lose impatient members, exhausted leadership, and those for whom the beauty and the elegance of our sacred space in the sanctuary was crucial to their worship experience. Two years is a long time not to hear the organ, if the pipe organ is what speak to you of the holy.

In the next few weeks, every member of the parish who has not yet contributed to the Phoenix Fund will be receiving a phone call. Please know that the very future of this parish is dependent upon your generosity.

Ten months after the fire, all fond illusions that the insurance company will cover most of our costs have disappeared. We have already reached the policy limits on rental and other business losses. The expenses of an elevator and handicapped bathroom for children are high. Our early estimates of what it would cost to build stronger and better are now actual bids by contractors. What we thought would cost of $500,000 is now $865,000…if we get the waiver for a limited access elevator. Our costs will exceed one million dollars, if we have to put in a full size elevator. Members of the parish have now pledged a little over $400,000.

As always, the church is dependent on the grace of God, and the generosity of its members. As each of us struggles with the challenges that have been put before us, it's worth stopping by in the evening to look at the steeple. "A light shines in the darkness." We're still here. We intend to be here for a long time.

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

"Your children are not your children…
Their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams."

When children are small, parents can project an amazing amount of expectation and fantasy concerning a child's gifts and potential. As you introduce them to hiking in the mountains, you can imagine them growing up to be environmentalists. With their first art course, you can see their hidden undeveloped talent. As they show strength in particular areas of academia, you can't help but wonder whether they might follow in the footsteps of your own intellectual curiosity. It was no accident that when I was selecting books at the library (before my own children could read), there was a heavy emphasis on mythology, and fairy tales. When my husband made the choices, there were always lots of animal stories and adventures.

One of the ongoing underlying dynamics in our home is that one parent (the Dad) teaches physics, and loves science, math, and technology. The Mom (me) is completely liberal arts; history, literature, psychology, and philosophy, as well as world religions. I am not aware that either of us have ever pressured our children to go in one direction or another, but we have been observant. We've been watching to see what the children would choose.

So it was astonishing to both parents, when Robert, our oldest child, announced last summer that he was going to go into business for himself. Business! That is neither fish nor fowl! That is neither the Mother's nor the Father's area of expertise, knowledge, or experience. But our Senior in high school had been reading his business magazine and decided that he was going to become an entrepreneur. He would be the founder of an on-line coffee business. He would be the middleman between a wholesale coffee roaster, and the cyberspace gourmet coffee consumer. In addition, this venture would fill the requirements for his senior research project.

My instantaneous response was, "You can't do that! You're only 16! You have no idea how difficult it is to start a business! And we can't help you at all…we don't know anything about marketing a product!"

And like any normal sixteen year old, he completely ignored my counsel. He went to banks, and arranged credit. He hired classmates and friends to design a web site. (They are to be paid with a percentage of the "profits.") He obtained insurance; he bought the software and security to handle credit card purchases…he found a wholesaler and worked out prices and shipping. The photographs for the site were taken of his buddies sipping coffee in our living room.

My role, meanwhile, is to roll my eyes and to tell him "this will never work." Over the last several months, I have done everything in my power to discourage what I consider to be an impossible assignment for a high school student. I believe my resistance to the project is partly because my first born is now navigating waters that I have never visited. Ican't setup a business web site. I don't have a clue as to how you go about buying software to allow you to accept credit cards on line. I can't tell a good marketing strategy from a bad one.

In the nine months that the project has taken, there have been countless setbacks. Each time, I'm the one who has encouraged my son to give up and move on. To his great credit, he hasn't listened to me. And when I have complained to my husband about the hundreds of hours our son has poured into this dream, he has calmly reminded me that Robert is to be congratulated for his persistence; that he has learned a great deal from this Senior project, and that I should consider a few of the terrible, dangerous, alternative activities that teenagers have been known to pursue.

Two weeks ago, we got a call from a salesman, asking if Robert Merritt was the marketing supervisor for TheRightBean.com. We didn't tell him that the founder of the company was attending class. We didn't mention that Mr. Merritt was also in charge of publicity, purchasing, advertising, technical maintenance, finances, deliveries, and payroll.

And then last week, what I thought could never happen, happened. The site became fully operational. Coffee orders are starting to come in. And the founder of the company is smiling a lot.

"Not even in my dreams" would I have imaged that my child would enter e-commerce. I have no idea if this is just the beginning of a promising career path, or simply one more exploration that will help him decide where he really wants to invest himself.

Here's the surprise. I don't know. I don't know what is best for another human being. I certainly don't know what work will give the greatest satisfaction to my son. Time should prove to be a much wiser instructor.

My ignorance is not just limited to parenting. I don't know what God wants from any of us. I don't know when our congregation will actually be back in our sanctuary. I don't know how the resources and gifts of our leadership will shape the church of the future. I know there are risks and I know there will be setbacks. I know that we will be trying our best.

TheRightBean.com is a good spiritual teaching for at least one skeptical mother. All of us are called into the business of creating unimaginable futures. Lao Tzu instructs us how to get where we need to go. "Walk on."

©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2001

We observed during the last few Congregational Meetings that the recommendations from the Prudential Committee were being energetically debated and there was a high degree of enthusiasm for these discussions. We heard your voices and understand that the time has come to invite all of you to join us in building upon the Mission and visions adopted by our Congregation a few years ago. To be sure that First Unitarian moves in the direction we want, we will use a process based upon the "Woods Meetings" successfully used in the private sector.

After the announcement I was deluged with questions on how this "Woods Meeting" works. I will give you a very brief description of the process, but must emphasize that there is much more to this process, than I can fit into this memo.

Friday night begins with a potluck dinner, introductions and an overview of the process. The group will then be split into smaller working groups (ideally consisting of five or six members). It is recommended that we mix the teams so that we have long-term members, new members, young and old, parents and non-parents. The first assignment of the team is to discuss what brought each of us to the First Unitarian Church and what keeps us here. These themes will be written down. After understanding each other’s journey to First Unitarian, we will then look for common threads and will try to arrange them into groupings based on commonality of the thought if it is possible. The meeting will break at 9 p.m.

At 9 a.m. on Saturday morning, the entire group begins with a breakfast. Breakfast is used to re-affirm the agenda for the rest of the day. The teams will report out to the group on their work from Friday night. After the report out, the groups will be given a new assignment. Each team will "brainstorm" on what they want from the Church. Brainstorming works by allowing each member of the team to list on the board what they feel. They can list one line and then pass the pen. No discussion is allowed during the brainstorming. The brainstorming continues until the team is finished and everyone has had the opportunity to list all of his or her feelings. After the brainstorming the points are discussed, not for value or merit, but for understanding. The teams will then organize the points into groupings. The groupings are then ranked from high to low.

At lunch the teams rejoin the main body and report out. Group discussion would ensue to find common threads within the groups. The group assembles the themes into larger groupings. Each team is assigned a grouping and given the task to build tactics to achieve the theme. The teams gather at 3 p.m. and report out their findings at the end of the day.

We conclude with a working session that then ties all of this work together into a document that outlines what our Church means to us, what we want to get and give to our Church, and the methodology we shall approach to get us there. 

Some of you are asking, After the Woods Meeting is over will you be given more work? The answer to this question lies entirely within you. Our Church is run through volunteerism. Aside from a small professional staff, volunteers serve all of the committees and provide the services to our community. How much involvement you wish to have with the church after this meeting is over is entirely up to you. Will you be required to do more, no, will you be asked, yes. The answer is yours and yours alone.

There is also a concern that you will be solicited for money at this meeting. There will be no requests for money. The Church needs something more valuable than money right now, it needs your thoughts and your voices.

Thank you for all your interest. If you are planning on attending, please contact the Church and let them know by April 15^th.

Because of all the snow, it was a very short work week. But that didn't keep it from being a few of the worst days I can recall. The particulars are unimportant. Suffice it to say that (1) a defective fire alarm (that seriously disrupted the sleep of some of our most committed volunteers at 2:00 a.m., and that continued to scream its head-splitting, nerve-shattering noise when the regular staff arrived), (2) a boiler malfunction that turned the furnace room into a steam room, and (3) no heat in the building for two days, were the least of my troubles. It was just one of those weeks at the church where nearly everything that could go wrong, did: where nearly everything that could break, broke. My computer crashed, and then so did I.

 Ministers, at least according to the fantasy, are never supposed to get seriously discouraged, or inconsolable. We're somehow supposed to have enough faith, insight, spiritual knowledge, and nerves of steel to meet all challenges and to overcome all obstacles. But every child of God has their limits. And I went past mine on Thursday, at about 4:00 p.m.

 Sympathy didn't help. My perceptions concerning all that was going wrong were fairly lucid. I wasn't depressed. I was just beaten. Circumstances were genuinely awful, and I wasn't feeling wise, or resilient, or patient, (no matter what I might have preached about patience a few days earlier.) My usual fall backs-whining, complaining and blaming-provided no comfort whatsoever. Not even Rumi's accurate description of my plight, "like a cat in a bag, thrown into the air, not knowing up from down" was any consolation. And thus, when asked to be optimistic, my answer was, "I can't."

 What is there for us, when our own strength runs out? What possible comfort is available when we are suffering? When we ourselves are not very good company, who can we turn to? When I "can't," who can?

* Good Company: This church is blessed with a remarkable staff. Since the fire, we have been taking turns with our frustration, our anger, our exhaustion. We don't actually "pick a number" or wait for our turn. But remarkably, when one of us falls, the others rally. And we laugh, and moan and offer practical support. Colleagues, and family and friends might not be able to make the pain and trouble go away. But they make it possible to endure the trials. Their belief in you can carry you when you have real doubts about your abilities.

 * Waiting: "This too shall pass"...or so they say. And there is nothing we can do. Sometimes we cannot even turn towards God. Or at least, that is what the French mystic, Simone Weil, tells us. "They do not turn toward God. How could they do so when they are in total darkness? God himself sets their faces in the right direction. God does not, however, show himself to them for a long time. It is for them to remain motionless, without averting their eyes, listening ceaselessly, and waiting, they know not for what..."

 * Resist Temptation: Again, Simone Weil. "The only temptation for a human being is to be abandoned to his or her own resources in the presence of evil". Ah ha! I always forget that no one ever asked us to have all the resources with which to face plague, flood, and pestilence. I "can't" is not a humiliating admission of failure. It is simply an acknowledgment of reality.

 On those days when you "can't", God can. Others can. The creation will continue to function. No one can be strong all the time.
 

I didn't really mind driving my kids to a downhill ski resort in Vermont last Saturday. While it is a long drive, it is also a beautiful one. And when you're in a car for several hours with your teenage sons, there is actually a better than even chance you'll get to have a conversation (something usually avoided by busy adolescents).

What I minded was being trapped in a ski lodge all day. Once you entered the vast parking lot, it was hard to imagine managing a reunion with my kids in the afternoon, if the car was moved. So I resigned myself to spending the day at the resort. I came equipped with a Dorothy Sayers mystery novel, some work, some letter writing paper, two newspapers, and the fantasy that there would be hiking trails and a charming town to explore. There was no town, and there were no trails. Now the goal was to find the fireplace with the comfortable sofas that is pictured in every advertisement that features skiing. Except, apparently, not at THIS resort. We were initially sent to the "lodge." I assumed this was a grand hotel. Instead what we found more resembled a high school gymnasium. It had plain long tables, hard plastic seats, and a noise level that was several decibels above a high school basketball game. In that room were approximately 500 people, all dressed up in their snow suits. After sending my sons up to the slopes, I fled quickly.

I managed to find a very comfortable chair that was, unfortunately, located in the lobby where they were actively selling condominiums. This was a rare opportunity for me to have a glimpse into the world of the "timeshare sales force." When I think of "resorts," I think of relaxation, vacation, and fun. When these people discuss "resorts" they are thinking of profit margins, team commissions, and how to market units that haven't even been built yet. I read, while they made money. But soon it was lunchtime, and I had agreed to rendezvous with my children at the "lodge."

There I sat; the only "non-Alpine skier" in a large hall full of loud and colorfully dressed downhill enthusiasts. I tried to read. It was impossible. So then I observed the people around me. I felt like I was in high school again. Everyone else was popular and involved and was a "player" except me. From the experience of feeling like an outsider, (like someone who didn't belong, and who had nothing in common with these people), I moved rapidly to judgement. "What an expensive and crowded and noisy sport!" I said to myself, thinking of the immense moral and esthetic superiority of cross country skiing.

And then, for some mysterious reason, another thought passed through my mind. "Every person in this packed hall, (from the youngest 3 & 4 year olds, all the way to those in their 70's), has more courage than you do, Barbara. Everyone of them, is willing to strap slippery boards to their feet and throw themselves off of steep mountains." Instantly, my judging mind switched over to admiration. I could appreciate everyone there, as being brave: worthy of admiration and respect: people with gifts and talents that allowed them to view life from a perspective that I could only imagine.

I spent the rest of my time, waiting for my boys, quite happily; actually enjoying being in the company of so many people who were capable of something I was not able to do. Instead of feeling alienated and judgmental, I was somehow given the grace to see and accept those strangers as people who had mastered one of the remarkable ways that human beings manage to play. Not everyone has to play the same. One minute I was looking at my fellow "lodge dwellers" with suspicion, fearfulness and distrust. The next minute I was able to see them as fellow travelers, with qualities I admire.

Sometimes what we see, in our first impression, is partial. March, in New England, affords us an excellent opportunity to "look again." You could easily take a cursory look at the landscape, and think, "Winter! I'm alone and alienated in a white and frozen world that will never melt into spring." Now is a particularly good time to pay attention, to look with an open heart. Emily Dickinson said it best:

"A light exists in Spring
Not present on the year
At any other period—
When March is scarcely here."

The snows of early March are falling. But look more closely at the light. It is increasing every day. And regardless of what things may look like today, spring and new life are coming. Sooner, than you can imagine.

Early in my ministry, I went to a seminar taught by a Master teacher, who was going around the country helping high school teachers refocus and re-energize themselves professionally. He stated that the only teachers he was ever able to help were those who had at least one beloved teacher in their own childhood. Once they had a model, a mentor, a memory to recall of what it meant to be "well-taught" and "cared for," they were able to go on and be that wonderful teacher for their own students. Those teachers who had no wonderful teachers to imitate, those teachers who were trying to be good teachers by simply implementing abstract theories were far less successful in their professional lives.

Thomas à Kempis recommends that his students "imitate Christ." The second sentence of Book One asks his monks, "to imitate His life, and His ways, if we truly desire to be enlightened and free of all blindness of heart."

The word imitate can be seen as a flaw or a virtue. In the negative sense, an imitation can be understood to be disingenuous; a fake, a fraud, a counterfeit, a mimic, a sham. But imitating can also mean "to follow, to mirror, to emulate, to repeat, to simulate, to model after, to reproduce."

Imitation is one of the primary ways human beings learn. Adults must ask, "Who am I most willing to imitate? Which patterns of life am I eager to replicate? Who are my teachers? Whose counsel should I be seeking?"

At first glance, Thomas à Kempis appears to be an unlikely candidate to offer religious institutions to seekers in 21st century America. He was a monk; a man who renounced the world. He lived in the 15th century, immediately after the great plagues of Europe and still in the middle of the 100 year war. His intended audience were novice monks who had devoted their lives entirely to God.

And, yet, hundreds of years later, tens of thousands of people within and outside of the Christian tradition find à Kempis to be a brilliant, tough, and insightful teacher. It could be the eloquence and elegant simplicity of his writing. It could be that we hunger to hear, straightforwardly and truthfully, what the demands of the life of the spirit will be. It could be his refreshingly unsentimental view of human nature. As in all works of literature that become "spiritual classics," the author managed to tap into what was universal and timeless. When you read this book (or any other book that points you in the direction of what is eternally true), some part of the soul sits up and pays attention. Even in a context that is foreign (like a monastery), you can discern diamonds; words that shed light on your own journey.

In preparing for the Monday Night at the Church series, I'm reading, "The Imitation of Christ" for probably the fourth time. I'm finding all sorts of new material that wakes me up. A few examples: 

"I would rather experience repentance in my soul, than know how to define it."

"What I have done up to now is nothing."

"We are all frail, but think of yourself as one who is more frail than others."

"Certainly, when Judgement Day comes we shall not be asked what books we have read, but what deeds we have done."

"It is a part of wisdom neither to believe everything we hear, nor to pour it immediately into another's ear."

"God speaks to all of us in a variety of ways and is no respecter of persons."

"Rely not too heavily on your own opinion, but listen to the ideas of others as well."

"We quickly become tainted and charmed by trivia."

"When men ridicule and belittle us, we should turn to God."

"There is no religious order so holy, no place so isolated, where trials and temptations are unknown…conflicts are not won by running away…"

"If you cannot remake yourself in the way you would like, then do you expect another to fashion himself
according to the pattern you set for him?"

"God has willed that we learn to bear one another's burdens. Each of us has some failing and some trial to bear and none of us has the strength to bear them by himself, nor the wisdom. Therefore, we must bear with one  another, comfort each other, support, instruct, and advise one another."

"Why be disturbed if things do not succeed according to your plans and desires? Who is there that gets everything according to his likes? Neither I, nor you, nor anyone else on this earth. No man in this world is  without some trial or affliction, not even a king or a pope."

In this Lenten season, may you find that which is capable of "waking you up." Pay attention to what you are imitating. Notice whose steps you are following.

The Committee developed a survey to assess those needs. Perhaps we have members dealing with this dreadful disease, loved ones who are losing their memories, and care providers in need of support and assistance. The primary goal of the survey was to determine the actual needs of the parish. Developing approaches to meet those needs was the secondary goal.

After the telephone survey was completed, we reviewed the gathered information. It was determined that the Parish Service Committee should most definitely develop a plan to provide a functional service for many of our members.

Although our timing may be less than swift, our desire to continue with bringing this idea through to fruition has remained intact. Somehow more time has elapsed than we had expected in the development of our proposal. Life can be that way.

We are now ready to roll out our plan. Through several meetings of the minds, we have developed a format for a support group that will be both information and emotionally healing. The concept is similar to that of a book club. The church will provide a lending library of books dealing with Alzheimer's disease. The Alzheimer's Association has an extensive list of publications that we will be using as a referral source. Suggestions will also be greatly appreciated.

Rather than discuss a particular book in its entirety, as a book club would do, we will be talking about segments of each book. Perhaps there is a passage that is particularly meaningful that we can relate to and share our own personal thoughts. A poem or an article may be chosen as the topic for discussion. Also, there may be a story telling session of our own creation.

"Lost Stories: A Support Group for People Caring for Loved Ones With Memory Loss," will be conducted by
co-facilitators meeting twice a month on Wednesday evenings. We thought that meeting early in the evening from 5:30 to 6:30p.m. would allow working people to stop in on their way home. The first two meetings are scheduled for March 14th and March 28th in the Bancroft Room. Our schedule will be posted in the newsletter calendar. We can adjust the meeting time as dictated by the group. Light refreshments will be provided to replenish the body as well as the spirit.

—Helen Campbell, Chair
Parish Services Committee

I suspect the world is full of transcendent scut work. I am especially fond of the summertime variety. Puttering in the garden; cleaning a closet; shucking corn; beach combing; peeling potatoes for a potato salad to take on a picnic; fixing up the boat; the backyard; the garage; the attic or the basement. It is work, to be sure…putting a little order into the chaos. And yet, when we suddenly have the time to entertain friends and family, the labor can seem almost fun, and some of the tasks leave us full of energy and hope.

The popular song, from Porgy and Bess, claims "Summertime, and the living is easy." I have always reveled in the sweet anticipation that there might come a season where life would be smooth, and easy, and care free. But, as I get older, I am more willing to entertain the possibility that fulfillment and frustration go hand in hand. I can't banish what is contradictory in myself, or in my environment, not even in July, not even on vacation. Anna Quindlen expresses it most eloquently; what seems "contradictory" is "exactly right."

So as the new copper roof goes up at First Unitarian, please understand that it is a wonderful accomplishment, even as it poses a real temporary parking challenge. It will be beautiful, and very messy. As Quindlen writes, it is a most practical, ordinary and utilitarian project, and yet there is a magnificence, a transcendence at the very heart of our ongoing effort.

In our church mission statement, we say that we are called to live in "right relationship with each other." Since the phrase "right relationship" is somewhat vague and open-ended, I am always looking for clues as to what it might actually mean. What better place to look than among the young people, where the future of the church is being formed? 

This is what I learned among the young about what it means to live in "right relationship."

1. Say "hello" well. There is an annual ritual in which newcomers are inducted into the group, not only as a group, but individually. The older members have a chance to share generous, welcoming and complimentary words to the new members. 

 
2. Say "goodbye" well, too. An annual goodbye ritual is held for the graduating seniors. Everyone shares their memories and tells some old stories. The seniors say goodbye to each other. What is especially interesting is that one motif of the ritual is a breaking of chains (made out of construction paper). The younger ones seem to know that the bonds between the youth group and the graduating seniors, while they are strong and wonderful now, need to be broken if the seniors are to get on with their lives. The ritual gives a permission to leave. 

 
3. It's OK to have rules and requirements. Their bylaws require that one is inducted at the prior retreat before one votes for officers. Elections are held at the retreat. The group is not afraid to demand signs of commitment before fully conferring all of the rights of membership. This seems to be at odds with where adult society seems to be going, which is to make churches and organizations easier to participate in.

 
4. Don't be afraid of conflict in governing the organization. YRU2 has contested elections, speeches by candidates and no nominating committee. There have been close votes and some have had to learn how to work well with former rivals. But it is expected that officers will really work hard and be responsible.

 
5. Be willing to worship. On Sunday morning, we gathered on the beach and worshipped. Worship was not that different than our adult services: readings, songs, responsive readings. There was even a brief sermon, which I have to admit I had never seen before in a worship service organized by youth for youth. But someone was called upon to speak the fullness of the truth that was needed at that moment, as he or she knew it. And if that is not preaching, then I am in the wrong business. 

 
6. Don't be afraid to be conservative. There was a proposal to change an aspect of their procedure and tradition and as they discussed of it, someone just blurted out, "Change is bad." Of course, that is an ironic overstatement, as everyone knows that not all change is bad. But they showed, at that moment, a healthy caution about quickly adopting a change that could have unintended and unforeseen consequences on the health of their group. 

I am encouraged. 

©The Rev. Thomas Schade, 2000

But a recent essay in the New York Times Magazine showed me that, once again, I have underestimated how powerfully truth makes itself known in every tradition. When Lorenzo Albacete, a priest and a professor theology at St. Joseph's seminary writes about his experience hearing confession, I find myself in complete agreement, as to the essence of the religious conversation and the purpose of the religious enterprise.

I quoted Father Albacete in my sermon Sunday, but Monday morning, I'm still pondering his point of view; both in what he claims is not central to the spiritual life, as well as what is.

Albacete writes that, "Confession is not therapy, nor is it moral accounting…the language of the inner life is not the language of experts, nor of eloquent dramatists, nor of a mature and healthy self-acceptance."

I can't begin to tell you how many visitors come to this parish hoping that being part of a church will give them a therapeutic cure and a formula for maintaining high moral standards and accomplishing good works. They come seeking a theologically sophisticated vocabulary, beautiful music, ritual and entertainment, and at the very least, God and the church are expected to make them feel better about themselves and their world.

I suppose the reason we come with such hopes is because we are human. And when the secular world doesn't satisfy our deepest needs, we can entertain a momentary optimism that religion will smooth the way, perfect our character, and improve our odds for success and satisfaction.

It shouldn't surprise us that there are, in fact, religions which promise therapeutic cures, and immediate salvation, with messages that roughly translate, "Here you will find comfort, release from suffering, and a new life, free from all the old limitations."

Thus, it is astonishing to read how Albacete describes what the interior life has to offer: "The ultimate truth of our interior life is our absolute poverty, our radical dependence, our unquenchable thirst, our desperate need to be loved…the language of the inner life is a serene silence, a deep hurt, a boundless desire and occasionally, a little laughter."

Now here is a list of spiritual qualities that gives, at least this religious liberal, pause.

* "Absolute poverty?" Am I expected to disclose that in public? Jesus taught us, "Blessed are the poor in spirit," but an awful lot of religious life is posturing about how much we know, how much knowledge we have accumulated, how much success we have achieved, how far we have traveled. But sometimes our "little faith" is no faith. Sometimes all we can bring to God is our confusion, our lostness, and our need.

* "Radical dependence?" We UU's prefer to talk about being independent, or at most, interdependent. What if we admitted to ourselves, and to others, just how utterly dependent we are on kindness and encouragement?

* "Unquenchable thirst?" St. Augustine said it best, "My heart will be restless, till it rests in Thee." But there seems to be some sort of cultural conspiracy that claims that if we're not satisfied with who we are, and what we have, there is something wrong with us.

* "Our desperate need to be loved?" UU's will rarely admit to being desperate about anything in our inner lives, let alone openly confess to this most basic of human needs for affirmation and acceptance. Maybe this is only the sort of truth that can be whispered in a confessional booth, but I can't help but wonder how we would treat one another, if we realized that everyone desperately needs to be loved…almost all of the time.

What I do know is that truth shows up in some unlikely places; sometimes in the New York Times, and sometimes in religious traditions very different from our own. The truth at the heart of the human soul, can be touched in silence. It shows up in our joy, as well as in our deepest hurt. I believe that God (and truth and reality), are hiding in the midst of our jumbled and conflicting desires. And sometimes, sometimes it is only our laughter that keeps us going.

I hope you will feel welcome in a congregation full of people who are struggling with poverty, dependence, thirst, and our need for one another. If you get to know us, you'll discover we're a lot like you.
©The Rev. Dr. Barbara Merritt, 2000

Why do people join a church? Tom and I joined the religious community called Countryside Unitarian Universalist Church in Palatine, Illinois in 1989 because we were lonely and needed religious education for our young daughters. Is your own experience so different?

At Countryside, we did find that community. There were Circle Suppers each month, and annual events such as the Talent Auction and church picnic. We were involved in the choir, social action, church governance, and the youth group. We found ourselves in a community of people where we could both give and receive.

When we headed to Dallas in 1995, it was very hard to say goodbye to Countryside Church. As Tom began his studies for the ministry, we started having a different relationship to churches. But it was hard to find my place among 500 members at First Unitarian Dallas. It was not until I joined the choir, that I began to feel connected.

When Tom became the intern minister at a church in a Dallas suburb, I was welcomed with open arms as the spouse of the new intern minister. Horizon Church was proud of their growing membership and many, many opportunities to get involved. Everyone finds their place early on at Horizon - not just the intern minister's spouse.

When we arrived here, the welcome was even greater. As the spouse of the new associate minister, I never have to wander coffee hour alone and hope someone will talk to me. I never have to find my seat in the sanctuary, and hope someone will catch my eye and smile, happy to see me again. But many others do.

David Rynick has put this need for community connection very well - "In a society where we are all increasingly busy and isolated one from another, we consciously seek to build community. A community where we can reconnect to the true sources of our life, 
to the miracle of being in relationship with each other, and to our rightful place in the larger world around us. We chose to come together in community to preserve the freedom of the individual to follow their own path. We seek to find the spiritual in the ordinary and to learn from the difficulties and the joys of community."

I've been working with other members who are passionate about church growth and making visiting, joining, and getting involved a positive experience. Working with Mike Lally and Kathleen Walker on the New Member Task Force, I've learned that it can be hard to feel connected here. They came from a small UU church here in New England and would like to see more social events like Circle Suppers and dances as a way for people to get to know one another. I had also heard that Lee Reid wanted to organize a dance but needed help.

Mike, Kathleen and Lee were introduced to one another several weeks ago - they agreed to start planning Circle Suppers. As more eager souls joined the conversation, Something's Afoot emerged and they pulled off a dance just a few weeks later. Now this group, which includes Mike, Kathleen, Lee, Kathleen Cammarata, Diane Reilly, Sue Carpenter, and Lauren Ota have reconstituted the Social Committee. There's no stopping them. In support of our mission and values, they intend to help people feel welcome, and to help people get to know new people. They seek to strengthen our friendships and build our community through social activities and fun events.

The first dance was such a success, there's another one scheduled for June 17^th. They've locked in September 16^th for a contra dance. For next year, they are trying to line up a singer/comedian for an evening of fun and planning Circle Suppers.

If it is important to you to be part of a spiritual community and to have some fun at the same time, then you've come to the right place.

I am sorry to report that last spring's excessive investment in lime, fertilizer, manure, peat moss, and grass seed has not borne much fruit. The yard is as pitiful an excuse for a lawn as it has ever been.

I was warned. In April of 1999, parishioner, gardener and veterinarian, Dr. Wayne Rocheleau, prophesized the inherent dangers in attempting to grow grass. His email read in part:

"…Let me assure you that you may succeed, but your success will be temporary...Even with all your best efforts, the soil may reject the covering you have planned for it…I am reminded of this because, while removing the detritus from my own perennial garden this afternoon, I was discouraged to see that the columbine I had planted two years ago is not doing so well. The plants just are not thriving...I carefully prepared the bed and tended to them diligently. They did fairly well the first year. They bloomed and set seed. They barely survived the next year and I gave them up for lost. Today though, just 24 feet from the prepared bed I made for them is a magnificent specimen of a columbine. This plant is thriving in a crack in the paving that separates the driveway from the brick walk and it has a neighbor growing from the crevice where the asphalt meets the concrete foundation of the house. Both of these plants are robust and I am sure they will bear beautiful flowers…We are constantly being prosecuted by a basic law of physics that says all things tend toward a lower state of energy unless we continually supply additional energy to maintain the order. But the corollary is not true. Sometimes, no matter how much energy we provide, we cannot create order from chaos. The columbine is just such a paradox. All the energy given to promoting the growth of the columbine at the location of my choice has gone for naught. Meanwhile, the genetic