Sermon given by Diane Mirick, 23-April-2006, First Unitarian, Worcester, Mass

It is a pleasure to be here in this pulpit this morning.  Thanks to Barbara and Tom for inviting me. 

Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a time for every purpose under heaven.  The author doesn’t promise us that we will laugh and dance every day of our lives.  Nor does he say that we will weep and mourn every day.  Thank heaven for that!  What he does seem to imply is that there will be changes, that we should expect changes.  And that there is very little we can do about it.

The older I have gotten, the more clearly I understand this.  Highs and lows are part of every day life for all of us.  What seems unbearable today will, eventually, be more bearable.  Not that we will forget the cause of our grief, but the sharpness will be softened.  Great joy and high excitement are, eventually mitigated, not necessarily by tragedy but perhaps by the more mundane aspects of life.  Sometimes it’s time to put the seeds in the ground.  After a summer of growth, it’s time to reap the harvest.  Sometimes the harvest is good; sometimes it is not.  But before you know it, it’s time to sow the seeds again.  Some changes are cyclical, like the seasons.  Some are abrupt.  Some sneak up on you slowly.  One of my favorite philosophers, Calvin, of Calvin and Hobbs, says, “Know what’s weird?  Day by day, nothing seems to change, but, pretty soon, everything’s different.”

Those of us with children can resonate to Calvin’s observation.  I remember clearly when my children were infants, and the long days and long nights of feedings and diapers seemed to go on forever.  Then, one day, I realized that the months and years of their infancy were gone, never to be repeated.  Infancy had given way to toddlerhood.  And the next time I turned around, they were driving the car.  Now, I would give a great deal to get back one long perfect summer day in the sandbox with my little ones.  But we can’t go back.  Day by day, nothing seems to change, but, pretty soon, everything’s different. 

Here at the church, the issue of change, or rather not changing, comes up frequently.  Members who have been away for some time come back and say, “Some things look just the way they did in 1960, when I was here last.  It is just the way I remember.”  I expect there are things that have remained unchanged from that time – the façade of the building, for example.  Other visitors find things very much changed, and marvel at the differences.  After all, how could the church have changed so much – I was here only 45 years ago…..  For some members and friends, the church is one place in their lives where they expect stability.  There are people who mourn the loss of one bush in the parking lot, the rearrangement of furniture in a room, or the removal of a mural in the Sunday School.  I have great sympathy for them.  I understand.  For those who adapt to change more easily, or who have stability elsewhere in their lives, relatively small changes in the church are taken in stride.  For others, these seemingly small changes are huge losses. 

The fire here in June of 2000 was certainly an abrupt change in the history of the church.  There was panic, grief and loss, and then hope and hard work, and finally celebration as we reoccupied our beautiful sanctuary and Sunday School.  Some things look the same.  It’s the same pulpit, it’s the same chandelier (only cleaner and shinier), and they are the same pews, only refurbished.  It’s the same organ – only not quite!  It’s better.  The Sunday School – well, it’s totally different, and I don’t think anyone mourns the loss of the old dingy rooms and hallways.  Though, to tell you the truth, they served us well in their time.  As stated in the second reading this morning, it’s human nature.  Familiarity may or may not breed contempt, but it definitely breeds comfort.  We didn’t think we could afford a massive renovation, so we made do with what we had.  And don’t forget, there are people here who can remember when the old Sunday School was the new Sunday School!  And there are people here who never knew the building before the fire.  Maybe it’s time to change – to no longer refer to the passage of time as before and after the fire?

But the changes here in the church are deeper than the physical plant.  I’d like to tell you about a couple of the changes that I have experienced in my 23 years as the director of religious education.  My predecessor is a woman named Ruth Gibson.  I was chairperson of the RE Committee when Ruth resigned.  At that time, our Sunday School had about 40 children and youth registered, with an average Sunday morning attendance of about 25.  And there were about 40 adults present on a Sunday morning, even though the membership roles were in the 400’s.  In those days, we worshipped in the Bancroft Room on winter mornings to conserve heat! 

When Ruth resigned, we formed a search committee and began to look for a new part-time director of religious education.  Twenty hours a week, 10 months of the year, for $5000.  There was not a pool of professional DREs to draw from.  In fact, in those days, it was unusual for a UU church to have a paid staff person running the RE program.  So we advertised in the newspaper.  Three people sent in resumes, and we decided to interview all three.  On the day of the interviews, one person simply didn’t show up.  The first person we interviewed was a lovely young woman in a pale pink suit.  In her current job, she did people’s colors – in other words, she analyzed their skin, hair, and eyes and told them whether they were a summer, fall, winter, or spring colored person.  She knew nothing about being a Unitarian Universalist, but could learn.  We thanked her for coming.

The second person we interviewed was a man, who was dressed in a tank top, cut offs, and sandals.  He had been to a coffee house in a UU church once.  He didn’t think anyone should have to work more than 20 hours a week, and was sure he could do the job.  We thanked him for coming.

At this point, the search committee turned to me and asked if I would take on the job for one year while they conducted a more thorough search, and I agreed.  I don’t know what happened to that search….  I liked the work so much, and got along with Barbara Merritt so well, and everyone seemed please with the job I was doing – so I just stayed on.  For 23 years.   So that is how you got me.  I came because of a change.

Now, here’s a change.  In those early years, in the early 80’s, the philosophy in UU religious Education was not to teach children to be UUs, but to present them with a wide buffet of ideas from which they could choose when they became adults.  Our kids knew more about spawning salmon and the Kung of the Kalahari than they did about anything UU or biblical.  We began to realize that even though we adults had chosen to be UUs and to bring our kids to a UU Sunday School, and even though we adults thought being a UU was the way to go, our kids were not growing up to be UUs.  We had made it so easy for them to accept the beliefs of others, to be tolerant of other faiths, that many of our youth were either not practicing any faith at all (though they might check off “other” on a hospital form asking about religious affiliation) or had converted to other religions.  There are very few home-grown UUs.  Gradually, the philosophy shifted, new curriculum was written.  We began to talk about UU Identity and to teach the children and youth about our faith and about our notable ancestors, both U and U.  We began to work on understanding the Purposes and Principles.  It remains to be seen if we have been successful in creating a new generation of UU young adults, in creating a change in the way our youth relate to the church when they become adults.  Time will tell. 

Here’s another change!  Back in the 80’s and early 90’s, there was only one youth group, YRU2, for youth from 12 to 22 years of age – junior high to post high school.  What were we thinking?  What normal 22 year old wants to spend time in a group with 12 year olds?  This was the continental UUA standard for youth groups.  We worked hard to grow a group here, starting with 6th, 7th, and 8th graders, and adding new youth as they came of age.  Again, eventually, the philosophy changed.  Here at First Unitarian, I don’t think we ever had anyone older than a senior in high school in our group.  But we did very well with everyone from 7th through 12th grade in one group.  Then, under the advice of the UUA, we split off the junior high from the senior high, and added the 6th grade to the younger group, forming BYKOTA.  By the way, that is a strictly First Unitarian of Worcester name for the group.  There was resistance to this change at the time.  Now, looking back, we are amazed at the original arrangement and grateful that we made the change and that it worked out well. 

The professionalism of the job of Director of Religious Education is another major change that I have seen in my 23 years in this work.  More training is available, more is expected, and standards are higher.  I remember being very proud when I once heard Lee Reid say that I was not “just another juice and cookies lady.”  I had grown into the position, taking the Renaissance courses offered by the UUA, learning from Barbara, and reading, reading, reading.  I remember, in my first few years, wondering how I was ever going to fill 40 Sundays a year with a programming for the children and youth.  Now we have to pick and choose carefully to make time for all we want to do. I remember that my understanding of the position at the beginning was that I was basically an administrator.  I don’t know exactly when my understanding and feelings about the job changed, but now I understand the role of the director of religious education to be a ministry to children and youth.  I changed, the church changed, the expectations changed. 

The point is nothing lasts forever; things change.  How each of us responds to change in and around our lives may be something innate, something we are born with.  The story of Winnie the Pooh and his friends, and the way they respond to the arrival of Tigger in the forest illustrates some of the different ways people deal with change.

The arrival of Tigger in the forest is the change.  Tigger, if you will, is the change agent.  Pooh seems to accept Tigger’s arrival quite calmly.  Does Christopher Robin know you are here?  Well then, it’s night, so let’s sleep and have breakfast tomorrow.  Do you like honey?  Pooh is curious, open, welcoming, polite, and ready to share his honey, though he is secretly relieved when Tigger doesn’t like honey. 

Then there is Piglet.  Pooh warns Tigger not to be too bouncy around Piglet, because  Pooh knows that Piglet is timid and that he takes time to warm up to strangers.  So, while Piglet is initially quite tentative, he eventually shares his haycorns, and goes along on the rest of the adventure – relying on the support of Pooh when he has to deal with Tigger. 

Eeyore is the grouch.  He is not interested in meeting a stranger.  He asks when the stranger is going away.  He would prefer to be left alone.  He reluctantly shares his thistles but is just as glad when Tigger doesn’t like them.  He doesn’t go along with Pooh, Piglet, and Tigger to Kanga’s house.  He stays behind.

Roo seems to be excited by the arrival of the stranger.  Roo is young and rather excitable in any situation.  But he is not afraid of Tigger, and seems to enjoy his arrival.

And Kanga, motherly, gentle Kanga.  Kanga “knew at once that, however big Tigger seemed to be, he wanted as much kindness as Roo”.  She offers Tigger the opportunity to “look in my cupboard, and see what you’d like.”  When it turns out that Tigger likes extract of malt Kanga accepts that.  Tigger is taken into the family and continues to live with Kanga and Roo.  Kanga’s doors are open to the stranger; she shares whatever she has, and she takes him into her family. 

Which character are you?  What is your innate response to change?  Do you enjoy the excitement?  Do you open your arms to change?  Are you generous and welcoming?  Do you share what you have or know?  Are you afraid of change?  Do you meet change grudgingly and then turn your back on it? Are you resentful?  And another question – can YOU change.  How will you adapt?

Because another change is coming.  As I hope you all know by this time, I am retiring at the end of June.  I have tried to give you all enough time to get used to the idea.  I have tried to not have this sneak up on you.  One search committee is working on hiring an interim director of religious education.  I hear very good things about the candidate.  Another search committee is working on the process of searching for a permanent director.  You elected good people to this committee and they are working hard already. 

Come September, for the first time in 23 years, I will not be here, gathering all the children as we go out the door.  You and the children and youth will have to learn to look to someone else.  It took me a long time to make the decision to retire.  Believe me when I tell you that my retirement is as much a change for me and my family as it will be for the church community.  Barbara Merritt and I have joked over the years that we have spent more time here with each other than we have spent in our own homes with our husbands.  Under the guidelines of the Liberal Religious Education Directors Association, I have to stay away from the RE Program and from any group that makes any decisions about Religious Education for the children and youth for a year.  When you don’t see me in the fall, don’t think that I have forgotten about you.  It’s the rules. 

So – what can you do to make the change easier?  Embrace it!  Welcome the change.  This is exciting stuff.  Take some risks!  Jump in!  Respond to the Search committee’s questions and surveys.  It is time to envision the future, to make Religious education in this church exactly the way you always dreamed it could be.  This is your opportunity to shape the future for this church and for your children.  Can you be Pooh or Kanga?  Can you reach out to someone or something new?  Can you be welcoming? Can you help along the Piglets and the Eeyores who are having trouble with the change?  Can you share what you have and what you know?  Can you be a guide to someone new in the forest? 

There is a specific way you can help, and it’s coming right up.  The RE Committee has expressed concern that in two weeks, as we go into teacher recruitment for the 2006-2007 year, you may want to stand back, unwilling to commit yourself to a year in the Sunday School without knowing what’s going to happen.  Please, please, don’t do that.  Step up and volunteer.  Help with this transition by teaching Sunday School.  Do it for your children, for the church, for yourself, for the RE Committee.  Do it for me.  I have for years bragged that it is easy to fill our teaching teams because the people in this church understand the value of religious education for our children and youth.  Let’s show the interim DRE what we are made of.  Let her see what a fine community this is.  Let her know that you have the best interests of the children in your hearts.  Be the change that you want to become.

The story told in the service was from A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner, Chapter 2, "When Tigger Comes to the Forest."

Readings (prior to the sermon)

“It’s Human Nature “ adapted from a posting by David B. South, Jr.

Next time you drive to work, school, or home, carefully examine the buildings you pass by every day and ask yourself a few questions.  Are these buildings attractive?  Are they ugly?  Have you ever looked at them before?

If you are like me, you ignore nearly all of them.  It’s human nature.  We become used to the environment around us. 

Then a new building goes up.  It practically stops traffic.  It’s different.  It’s not part of the customary background.  It is not what we are used to.  And chances are that when you first see it, you probably won’t like it.  That’s human nature, too.  We don’t take kindly to change.  It shakes us up and forces us to examine something we normally don’t think about.

Familiarity may or may not breed contempt, but it definitely breeds comfort.

But if this is human nature, what’s wrong with it?  Remember those buildings we drive by and ignore?  We ignore them because we are used to them.  But that is not all we are used to.  We are used to all their problems and failings as well.  And because we are used to them, we ignore them.

We not only ignore developments such as leaky roofs and saggy floors, we actually expect and accept them.

Therein lies the problem.  When examining something new, something different, it is human nature to look for any problem as an excuse to dismiss the whole thing.  No structure is perfect.  No matter how good the building is, no matter how it may improve on its neighbor, it will have flaws.  And any real or perceived flaw may be the excuse needed to dismiss it entirely.

Any beneficial change will be thwarted without an open mind.  Fair comparisons and analysis are required to measure the strengths and weaknesses of the change.  These results must be compared with other buildings used for similar purposes.  It is surprising how many flaws are actually design decisions or misunderstandings.  Only after we see things as they really are can we judge whether it is worthy of acceptance.

Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3, verses 1 – 8

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war and a time of peace.