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Living the Gift A Worship Service by the Reverend Mark W. Christian First Unitarian Church, Oklahoma City, OK Sunday February 5, 2006
Reading One From "Beyond a Theology of Pale Negations" In The Leadership Challenge (vol. 1, number 2: Summer, 1998; page 1) (Ralph Waldo) Emerson-the Unitarian, the minister, the one who soon left parish ministry-vigorously criticized what he saw as Unitarianism's "theology of pale negations." He warned against settling for a reactive, negative understanding of the liberal religious message. Now … more than one hundred fifty years after Emerson's warning, contemporary religious liberals are heard complaining that they and their children "know what they don't believe," but awkwardly shift from foot to foot when called upon to voice their outlook in positive terms.
Reading Two From Today's Children and Yesterday's Heritage By Sophia Lyon Fahs (page 14) Some beliefs are like pleasant gardens with high walls around them. They encourage exclusiveness, and the feeling of being especially privileged. Other beliefs are expansive and lead the way into wider and deeper sympathies. Some beliefs are like shadows, darkening children's days with fears of unknown calamities. Other beliefs are like the sunshine, blessing children with the warmth of happiness. Some beliefs are divisive, separating the saved from the unsaved, friends from enemies. Other beliefs are bonds in a universal brotherhood, where sincere differences beautify the pattern. Some beliefs are like blinders, shutting off the power to choose one's own direction. Other beliefs are like gateways opening up wide vistas for exploration. Some beliefs weaken a child's selfhood. They blight the growth of resourcefulness. Other beliefs nurture self-confidence and enrich the feeling of personal worth. Some beliefs are rigid, like the body of death, impotent in a changing world. Other beliefs are pliable, like the young sapling, ever growing with the upward thrust of life. It is indeed important what (humanity) has believed. It is important what we believe.
Prayer and Meditation We Gather in Reverence Sophia Fahs (SLT 439) We gather in reverence before the wonder of life— The wonder of this moment The wonder of being together, so close yet so apart— Each hidden in our own secret chamber, Each listening, each trying to speak— Yet none fully understanding, none fully understood. We gather in reverence before all intangible things— That eyes see not, nor ears can detect— That hands can never touch, that space cannot hold, and time cannot measure.
Living The Gift A Sermon by the Reverend Mark W. Christian Delivered to the First Unitarian Church of Oklahoma City Sunday February 5, 2006 “It matters what we believe,” writes Unitarian Religious Educator Sophia Fahs. Some beliefs are like pleasant gardens with high walls around them... Other beliefs … lead the way into wider and deeper sympathies… Some beliefs are like shadows … (filled with) with fears of unknown calamities. Other beliefs are like the sunshine, (bearing) the warmth of happiness. Some beliefs are divisive, separating the saved from the unsaved... Other beliefs are bonds in a universal (humanity)… Some beliefs are like blinders, shutting off the power to choose… Other beliefs are like gateways opening up wide vistas… Some beliefs weaken … selfhood… Other beliefs nurture self-confidence … Some beliefs are rigid, like the body of death… Other beliefs are pliable, like the young sapling… It is indeed important what (humanity) has believed. It is important what we believe. While Fahs wrote directly to the issue of beliefs and their impact on children. It is not too far to stretch to see the importance of belief for all of us—young, old and in-between. Fahs, like Emerson before her, insisted that we not settle for “A theology of pale negations.” And yet, on more occasions than I can possibly count, I have observed that this religious tradition is focused on covenant over creed and promise over belief. How can both possibly be true? How can I maintain, along with Fahs, that it matters what we believe; along with Emerson, that we must hold onto something more substantial than pale negations; and at the same time assert that ours is a tradition that cares for covenant more than creed and promise more than belief? In a nutshell, I think the key is to understand to whom the statement applies. As a religious community we value covenant over creed. As I have also observed on countless occasions when someone asks you what your church “believes” it is appropriate to reply that “Churches don’t believe things. People do.” You see, we find it so important “What” and “How” you believe that were I to hand you a scripted set of beliefs and expect adherence without rewrite, refinement, restatement and even outright rejection, then I would sin against the truest notion of the holy that I hold. Belief is for the believer. Belief is for the believer to discern and affirm and test. And yet, while this is not a tradition in which belief is diminished, neither is it a tradition in which one can believe anything one wishes. Therein lies the rub. You cannot hold beliefs that diminish individual persons or see humanity existing independent of creation and be a bona fide Unitarian. Today I embark on series of sermons to explore what I call the “Core Revelations” of this tradition. When you speak with Jonalu, she will sometimes call these truths “Meta-beliefs.” Core Revelation or Meta-belief, in some ways, manifest themselves as the ground from which our beliefs grow. Core Revelations and Meta-beliefs are to our beliefs what water molecules are to our bodies—critical and ubiquitous. As individuals, one’s beliefs might flow in the direction of Science and Buddhism. Another’s path may course toward Christianity and Humanism. Still another of us might find our beliefs drawn toward wells of Hinduism or Judaism or Islam or Taoism. An individual’s belief can flow and grow toward, or away from, any of these traditions and still be held within our church because the aspects in each of these traditions that draw us forward share certain key similarities. This series of sermons will explore some of those central Meta-beliefs and Core Revelations which define the scope of our beliefs, some of the things that are consistent within the horizons of our theology. Each week will delve into things that rest among us as “more than…pale negations.” Each week we begin our service by affirming that “This day is a gift.” That seems an appropriate place to begin this series—because foremost among our core revelations and meta-beliefs is the notion that the lives we lead matter. They are precious beyond measure. If there is a judgment at the end of our days it will begin with the question of “How did you use your life in service to creation?” “Living the Gift” means embodying the notion that “Life” is ultimate, that this Life matters. Life is a gift and it is not to be wasted. We do not live this Life in lieu of a future and better life. We have no assurance of anything beyond this Life. If we live this Life to its fullness, appreciating it as a gift and striving to maximize our Human Potential, all future life, before or after death, will take care of itself in due course. Thus one of the Core Revelation and Meta-belief through which we assess and accept any personal belief is “Does it affirm the lives we have been given to lead?” Affirming life as a gift is easy if one is “healthy, wealthy and wise.” Accepting a gift and investing ourselves in creation is easy if one finds oneself living somewhere like Garrison Keilor’s mythical Lake Wobegon, “Where the women are strong, the men are good looking and all the children are above average.” What about the rest of us? What about the rest of the time? What does starting with the gift of life mean when life has turned mean, when injustice reigns, when comfort and safety are far away islands across an un-swimable sea? I had a first hand view of just those things at work this week. I gathered with about 30 of my ministerial colleagues at a retreat center north of New Orleans. If ever there were a place that makes it hard to imagine life as a gift—right now it is New Orleans. Much progress and Herculean effort has happened in the five months since Hurricane Katrina and the failure of the levy systems. Still, there seem to be vast areas where little has improved since FEMA and the Red Cross went door to door searching for victims and survivors leaving behind them a large spray-painted “X” as a sign to move on to the next tragedy. Both of our sister congregations in New Orleans are displaced—living in Diaspora. First Unitarian’s damage was significant—but when Jonalu and I went by one of the first things we noticed was a building permit sign nailed to the front door. Perhaps this is an interesting twist on Martin Luther’s nailing of the 95 theses to the Wittenburg door. The key similarity being the sad but persistent observation, “Here I stand. I can do no other.” That permit authorizing rehabilitation said—in fewer than 95 theses—“We have discerned something essential and, much though we might want to, the holy will not let us turn away.” The picture was more dire at Community U.U. Church—built on lower ground, nearer to one of the levy breaks the setting was tragic. The floodwaters were about 8 or 9 feet deep there. Lonely, rusting and sludge covered rocking horses stood rider-less in the playground. Peeking in one could see the warped and twisted pulpit and a desecrated sanctuary. Telephone and power lines, still disconnected from the rest of the world, hung low. Standing before those church doors, I would be lying if I said it is always easy to treat Life as a gift. Who, or what, wrought the desecration, destruction and disaster I saw in New Orleans? I find no answer to that question easily carries forward the notion of life being a gift—yet deep in my soul, I know that there is blessing in the world—even in that world. You see, that’s a lesson I also glimpsed there. Jim VanderWeele, the minister at Community Church, said that within days of the flood that all but a few of the church’s members and friends were accounted for—somewhere. As the first few waves of people returned to New Orleans, the last handful were identified as having safety weathered the storm. Keeping track of a couple of hundred folks in the midst of that kind of chaos is, in itself, a kind of life affirming gift. Meanwhile, Marta Valenin, the minister at First New Orleans, had just arrived to serve the church a few days before Katrina. She lost everything she owned to the Hurricane—yet I can tell you that I have rarely met one with a spirit as affirming of the gift of life as Marta possesses. It simply seems that she is where she needs to be. Both congregations have reconstituted to some degree. They meet in a combined worship service on Sunday afternoon at a Presbyterian Church. Life is moving along at First Church—there have been deaths and births in the ensuing months. New people have joined their church. A new minister is learning to love a congregation and a congregation—I believe—is growing to know and love a kind and caring soul. They have already done more ministry together than many do in years. Clean up and renovation is about to begin—although I doubt they know which springs from which the money—and energy—will flow. One can easily sense an affirmation of life amid their devastation. It’s not as easy to perceive Life as a gift standing before Community Church. Their building may be damaged beyond repair. I did, though, see one thing at Community Church that affirmed life as a gift. They have erected a sign noting where and when they meet. There was something telling about that sign. Amid the uprooted trees, broken windows, downed fences, abandoned cars and washed away sidewalks—you see a note of life and color at that church. Members have planted and are dutifully tending a small plot of pansies at the foot of that newly erected sign. Seeds of life’s gift blooming and thriving when on every side the signs of death and destruction abound. Those things—those seeds of flowering beauty, promises of restoration—are signs and symbols of Life as a gift that connects our individual beliefs. I am not about to tell you what to believe. I will, however, say that if you look upon these things and cannot see the vestige of Life’s abundant gift, if you know these things and can’t see that it is this Life—right now—here and now—that matters, then you probably won’t find a comfortable home amongst us. Living life as a gift, “Living the Gift,” can lead one to differing spiritual ends and theological conclusions. It is a spring that waters many fields. It is a well from which many can drink. It is part of our common communion and covenant. It is something we share even though it looks and sounds and feels differently to each of us. I got a peak at that gift this week. As much as I am saddened by the devastation and as much as I was shaken by the experience—I come away confirmed in my understanding about one of our Core Revelations and Meta-beliefs. This day is a gift. A gift of Love. A gift from God. A gift from Life itself. Let us then rejoice in it and be glad. For this is the day we have been given: to live in; to love in; and, in time to die in. Let us rejoice in the promise and possibility of this day. May all our beliefs start and end there. AMEN
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