First Parish of Watertown

“Live At Your Own Risk” - Mark W. Harris

March 19, 2006 - First Parish of Watertown


Opening Words - from Susan B. Anthony

Cautious, careful people, always casting about to preserve their reputation and social standing, never can bring about a reform. Those who are really in earnest must be willing to be anything or nothing in the world’s estimation, and publicly and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathy with despised and persecuted ideas and their advocates, and bear the consequences.

Sermon -

“Searching for Bobby Fischer” is the name of a film that was released in 1993. It depicts the true story of a young chess prodigy, much like the real Bobby Fischer. Bobby Fischer is a name that first surfaced when I was growing up in the 1950’s. He was a young man whose obsession with the game of chess brought him fame, but it also robbed him of any kind of normal childhood, as his genius for the game took over his life. Fischer was also known for his personality; a reclusive, mentally unstable genius. He disappeared from public life for a time, surfaced in 1972 to win the World Chess championship, the first time an American had ever done so, and then disappeared again. He was a true mystery man known for aberrant and unfriendly behavior juxtaposed with incredible ability and a computer like mind for this game. The film is interspersed with documentary footage of Fischer’s life. It reminds us that we are witnessing another life story that is the beneficiary of this tremendous gift of chess playing ability, with the consequent pressures of being totally focused and ruthless in the pursuit of winning the ultimate prize of grand chess master.
Chess was an important part of my family growing up, and I am reminded of this every time I play a game with Levi, Dana or Asher, all of whom know how to play. We play in fits and starts, but it has always been a game I have loved from those formative years in the 1950’s when my father would bring out the old wooden box that housed the playing pieces divided by the slotted barrier into black and white, and say on some chilly Sunday night, how about a match?. There was the mantra of playing rules - queen on her color, white moves first. There were also the proper moves, always king’s pond two forward to begin a game and never sacrifice your queen, and its not an official move until you remove your hand. As the youngest child my goal was always to beat any member of the family, especially if they were trying to win, and ultimately defeat my father, when he was trying, for he was the household master.
What I loved about chess was its seeming historical context that gave it such descriptive medieval names. If I moved a pawn it was an army of peasants, a rook was a magnificent castle that I dreamed of one day visiting, a knight was a joust of striding horses and heavy suits of armor thundering towards one another on a field of glory. Then, there was a king, a queen, a bishop who were all the players in an historical drama of intrigue in the politics of the times when heads rolled and kingdoms fell. Finally, there was the challenge of the game itself. My father always said it was a game for people with brains, which may give you some clue that he thought he was pretty smart despite his lack of degrees. But what he said about the game is true. It demands that you think ahead to what your next move might be, and the one after that and so forth. There is lots of strategy and anticipation of what your opponent might do in his/her next series of moves, and so you try to psyche them out. The nineteenth century writer, Siegbert Tarrasch wrote, “Chess is a form of intellectual productiveness. Therein lies its peculiar charm.” You have to take lots of chances in the game of chess. Pieces that you don’t want to lose may be exposed. They can be taken, but if you see the right response on the part of your opponent, it might mean, check, and then mate, and the king is laid down. I was reminded of some of this intellectual intrigue in the Boston Globe’s Sidekick on Monday in the “Chess Notes”. Vladimir Nabokov, who wrote a novel about a chess genius once said that chess is “the game of the Gods. Infinite possibilities.” Of course that is exactly what life presents us with. In fact rather than repeat opening moves, like the king’s pond two forward, that my father taught me, Bobby Fischer chose not to be repetitive when he played Boris Spassky a generation ago. Your opponent can never guess what you are going to play, if you don’t know yourself.
The movie, “Searching for Bobby Fischer” tells the story of Josh, who has this incredible skill for chess, but lacks the killer instinct that he supposedly needs to be a champion. His father, a sports writer, drives him towards this goal of fame and success, and hires Bruce a former champion, played by Ben Kingsley, to coach him. Bruce pushes Josh relentlessly, and is also offended by the local chess hustlers in the park, especially Vinnie, played by Laurence Fishburn. The problem with this plan for Josh’s success is that it is forcing him to become something that he is not. There is an expectation that he will win all the time. At one point in the movie Vinny tells him something to the effect of, “you must risk, you must risk everything, you must go to the edge.” One could look at these mentoring words, and say we must devote ourselves exclusively to our goals, that the ultimate goal in life is to achieve this kind of successful drive to be the best. Yet with Josh we come to understand that this drive to always win kills his love of the game, and when he does lose the championship he feels as if he has let everyone down. That kind of risk to be the best has resulted in his losing his soul. For the truth of the matter is that Josh is a boy who loves many kinds of sports, and he is also a kind boy who does not want to be ruthless in dismissing his opponents.
So Josh refuses to toughen himself up to be the champion he could be. Then he finds that when he has experienced failure, and learned from the losses, he can embrace his own sensitivity to the world and others, and truly be free to win or lose. As I watched this movie again this week in preparation for this sermon, I wondered about my own expectations for my children, and indeed those of all parents and how we often try to mold our children to be what we want them to be or even dismiss them for all the things they lack that become the focus of parental disappointment. I am reminded of someone we know who fails to see any positive qualities in her daughter-in-law because she can only focus on how overweight she is, and thus her judgment clouds everything. When children have certain skills, what are our expectations of them? How much do we drive them to succeed? How much do we judge them if they don’t want to be the athletes or the musicians or the artists we were or are? How much do we reject them or fail to see if they have learning problems or behavioral issues? Josh’s father tries to make him the tough male competitor he wants him to be without reflecting on who he is as a person. Yet Josh shows us that the ultimate courage of all is to resist attempts to make you into something you are not. It is to understand your feelings. It is to come to some understanding of your failures. It is to never lose your love for what brings meaning to your life. The movie is a lesson in how we might become less judgmental, more accepting of our children, and let them discover what it means to be men or women, successes or failures on their own terms. For them and us, it means the greatest risk in life is not about what we are afraid of doing or what we should stay away from, but to move toward the sometimes scarier risk of deeper awareness of yourself. The greater risk is not willingness to meet expectations for success, but the courage to continually develop deeper relationships with those we love, and a deeper engagement with the world.
To some extent this is the same theme that dominates the novel, Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. John Ames is the seventy-something minister who has received a medical diagnosis that seems to spell his imminent doom, and he is writing to his young son a long letter about the meaning of his life, and all of life. The father has chosen to remain the minister in this small Iowa town, where he has been settled for years, and has served with dedication and devotion. He is almost too good a person to be true. Where is his malice?, we want to know. Like the good son in the parable of the prodigal son, Ames believes in a wideness of God’s love so that even though his best friend’s son deserts him in his hour of need, Ames still believes there is forgiveness. The novel in some ways tells us that perhaps the greatest risk in life for John Ames is to defy the expectations of leaving, of seeking greater success in some place other than Gilead, Iowa. The greatest risk is to embrace who he is, and live that to its fullest in the place where he finds himself rather than to escape to somewhere else, or to be someone else. This is a novel of the generations as grandfather abolitionist quarrels with pacifist son, and then wanders off to Kansas to die. How do we forgive ourselves for the relentless expectations we place on our selves and our children? Ames wants to forgive the bad son in the prodigal son story, who in his own life is the son of his best friend, a man who is named for him. He believes in a love which can embrace those who we are inclined to reject. In the story, this is God, but for us it is that power within us to know that the true depth of understanding between fathers and sons and in all our relationships is to understand the pain we feel for the judgments we have made or for the rejections we have imparted to others. We seek forgiveness for the times when we failed to affirm that person we loved, and thus can free ourselves to love again, or perhaps truly love for the first time.
In some ways the themes of the Bobby Fischer movie and Gilead are the same. The greatest risk in life is not to drive yourself or your loved ones down a torturous path of parental judgment and success that ultimately lacks acceptance and forgiveness of who and what we are. For the true risk taker of life understands their own pain at not being all that was expected of them, or in embracing their failures, and is courageous enough to be who they are, where they are. I had an occasion to rent a car last week. I walked down to the Enterprise Car Rental place on Arsenal Street. As the customer service person was entering my personal data into the computer, I looked down and saw a sheet of paper marked, Successful Failures Log. While I am not exactly certain what this meant, I surmised that it was somehow situations that were either an apparent accident or a threat or claim against the company that turned out positive, or were at least learning experiences so that the same failure was not likely to happen again. In the same way Josh learned that the drive to win destroyed his love for the game, and it was in losing that he found his way back to what he valued most, what he loved. Perhaps the successful failure at the car rental place was that the employee learned to listen to the customer, learned to give out some information that he/she failed to give out before, learned to forgive a customer so that the relationship was not destroyed. These are times of personal admission and confession. They are what brings us to forgiveness and an opportunity to start over again.
The words “At Risk” always seem to be used in a negative context. If we have a parent who had heart disease or cancer, then we are at risk to those same diseases due to our genetic makeup. If we are a woman who passes the age of 35, then we have an at risk pregnancy because statistically we are more likely to give birth to a child who has some genetic abnormality. My insurance company once told me I was at risk for smoking. I am at risk for prostate cancer because that is what killed my father. Teenagers seem to be at risk, simply by being teenagers because they have raging hormones, or are especially subject to peer pressure to try drugs or alcohol. They want to be liked. They want to be cool. All of these risky behaviors or even situations we find ourselves in with the genes we have inherited make it appear that something bad is more likely to happen to us under the circumstances we live with. Of course for a teenager the behavior that puts them “at risk” is often the easier choice to make. It is not risky at all in the sense of being accepted by many of their friends. The harder or riskier choice personally, is to say no. It is harder to not give into the role or expectations that others have for us. We want to please our parents with grades and successful sports achievements. We want to please our friends by saying, let’s party tonight. It is so hard to discover what it is that is truly what I want to do or be or say or embrace. Being truthful to ourselves and honest with others is the most risky thing of all for a teenager, and for us.
The most helpful At Risk words I ever encountered were ones I never saw. These are the ones that many of us are most familiar with, especially when we go to a local pond or pool, such as Walden, and we see a sign which says. No Lifeguards on Duty, Swim at your Own Risk. In a literal sense this means that there is no one who will help fish us out of the water if we go swimming and start to drown. It is up to us to remain afloat. We are at our own risk. This means that no one else will take responsibility for us. Some of you may have guessed that the At Risk words for me were emblazoned on a sign at Pemaquid Point in Maine. They say something about swimming at your own risk, but also go beyond that to say how dangerous it is to be on the rocks there, and how others have been seriously injured or killed. I was nearly killed there when I was engulfed by a wave some years ago. Being out there on the rocks might have been considered risky behavior, but we thought we were safe when a rogue wave hit. The simple truth is that a rogue wave can hit our lives at any time. A car accident, a new boss that wants to clean house, a spouse who walks out the door, and we are devastated. Most of us realize that our lives are always at risk. My story is perhaps more dramatic than some others, but all of them cause us to take stock of who we are and what is important to us. What are we going to do now that we have been hit by a wave? The wave may come in the form of a child who does not meet our expectations and we are hopelessly disappointed, or the wave may come in the form of something you worked hard on which comes crashing down. We cannot protect ourselves form these waves, and sometimes the more we try to drive them away, or push for fulfilled expectations, the more the water rises.
After the wave hit, and the risk of surviving the accident was over, and my injuries began to heal, the greater risk set in. I had, to paraphrase Jesus, nearly lost my life, and now I had to find it. Here is the greatest continuing risk to me about living, how can I be real? How can a man truly know his sons? How can we love one another? For the threat of death, of losing life, stripped away all those things that once seemed so important. There was the appearance of being successful, of being right, of knowing all the answers, of being in control, of being the right kind of minister, and there was the reality of loss of control, the humility of knowing nothing, that success was meaningless when juxtaposed with how much I cared about others and what were the quality of my relationships, what I truly believed in. Wining chess matches was meaningless as long as he only cared about winning and achieving greatness. What about the longing to love other things? What about the longing for meaningful relationships? What about John Ames’ years and years of being faithful? There is greater risk in staying close to who you are and going deep into yourself and knowing others, than there is to running up the ladder of more success, while losing or sacrificing the very essence of who you are and what you love.
I have been thinking a great deal about what this means theologically. Long ago the idea of a demanding God was domesticated. That is God was conceived of as a distant deity who was difficult to please, if at all. He was as likely as not to throw us into the fiery pit of hell. For our Puritans ancestors God was the center of salvation, and not Jesus. The move toward having a relationship with a more human God is in many ways relevant to Unitarian Universalist history as Jesus became more accessible, and God less relevant. Even among our fundamentalist and evangelical brothers and sisters today, you are saved by coming to Jesus, and not by finding reconciliation with God. To most Unitarian Universalists this probably seems like a positive trend, but I am afraid what we lost was a kind of tension with God, or even a sense that religion or life demands very much of us. In her book of essays, The Death of Adam, Marilynne Robinson asks this very question, what if there was a reckoning?
I think that is what losing the chess matches was for Josh, and perhaps the pain of family conflicts for John Ames, or the wave for me. We all have our waves that send us falling head over heels, but I often wonder where the challenge is to find forgiveness and love again once we have experienced such pain? Robinson says God is domesticated, and I am afraid too much is covered with appearances and busy schedules, and not enough of our losses or pains are even reflected upon. Society encourages us to feel good all the time, but when we do that, we are not grieving our losses, or understanding the loss of feeling in our relationships. We simply move on to the next thing. That famous theologian Janis Joplin once sang, Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose. But that’s just it. Reflecting on all our losses helps us achieve true freedom, whereas covering them up with busyness or success means just that, they remain covered, and we never do lose our life to find it. When those evangelicals find their domesticated Jesus, they say they are going to give their life to him. They say they are going to be transformed. They say they are going to be changed. We are not usually inclined to use such language, but I am not sure why not. I don’t mean in the context of the saving grace of Jesus, for he is not our lord and savior, but purely the master teacher. But if we don’t want to be transformed, if we don’t want to be gripped by a deeper form of love, if we don’t want to become more than we are, and create a more peaceful society, then why are we here? I think church should tells us we are at risk, but in a very different way than the fears of disease or behavior we once imagined. I hope you are at risk here to be changed and challenged to a new way of living. I pray you are at risk here to become involved in a way of life that helps you be honest and truthful to yourself and others, that helps you be accepting of others and be less judgmental of others, especially those you love, that helps you see and say what is real and truly a risk about the world around you so that together we might find a path to a society of greater justice and equality, and that you would walk that path and not just talk about it. Risk love. Risk truth. Risk honesty. In this case, the great teacher might say, Put yourself at risk. Lose to find.


Closing Words - anonymous

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk
involvement,
To expose feelings is to risk exposing
your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams before a
crowd is to risk their loss
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.,
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken, because the greatest
hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing,
has nothing and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow, but they
cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live.
Chained to their certitudes they are a slave,
they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.

"Till We Reach That Day" by Darrick Jackson - March 12,2006

Opening Words: from “The Language of Action” by William M. Chace

Diversity, generally understood and embraced, is not casual liberal tolerance of anything and everything not yourself. It is not polite accommodation. Instead, diversity is, in action, the sometimes painful awareness that other people, other races, other voices, other habits of mind, have as much integrity of being, as much claim upon the world, as you do. No one has an obligation greater than your own to change, or yield, or to assimilate into the mass. The irreconcilable is as much a part of social life as the congenial.

William M. Chace, "The Language of Action," Wesleyan LXII, #2, Fall 1989, p. 36


Reading: I Have Words to Spend by Robert Cormier

The world is made up of two kinds of people--them and us. Oh, I'm not talking about friends versus enemies or the Western nations against the rest of the world or the North against the South. Nothing like that. I mean those of us who share common things, who are loyal to each other, and those who aren't. And with people who are with Us, we have special rules and very special ways of looking at Them and Us.

For instance:
We are always Cautious but they are Chicken.

When we don't dress, we go Casual. But when they don't dress, they’re Slobs.

Our house has character--theirs is rundown.

A friend of ours is colorful, but that same friend of theirs is nutty.

Our friend has an even disposition and never loses his cool--their friend is dull, dull, dull.

Our friend is the life of the party--but their friend always makes a fool of himself after a few drinks.

See how it works?

Our garden could have used more luck this year--their garden was an utter failure.

We are slender--but they are skinny.

We have been putting on a little weight lately, but they are getting fat.

We are contemplative--they are lazy.

We are daredevils--they are reckless.

The Them or Us syndrome extends to the arts, as well. As in:

Our friend got a character part in a new movie--their friend got a small role.

Our friend has written a book with a plot as light as a soufflé--their friend has written a book with a flimsy plot.

Our friend is very emotional--their friend is temperamental.

Our friend is always "on"--their friend is a show-off.

Our friend is multi-talented--their friend can sing a little, dance a little, play a little.

The world of diplomacy has also been invaded by this kind of thing. Samples:

They have terrorists--we have freedom fighters.

They are moralistic--we are moral.

They are reactionary--we are traditional.

They are racist--we want to preserve our identity.

They have emotions--we have feelings.

But most of all, it is used in our daily lives, and it goes unnoticed.

Our friend is fastidious--their friend is fussy.

Our friend hasn't been feeling well for some time--their friend is a hypochondriac.

Our children are inquisitive--their children are nosy.

Our friend is very well informed--their friend is a know-it-all.

Our friend can go on at length on any topic--their friend never stops talking.

Our friend is aging gracefully--their friend is getting old.

Ah, but you get the idea. Because you, my friend, are so perceptive...


Sermon: Till We Reach That Day

A Day of Peace
A day of pride
A day of justice
We have been denied
Let the new day dawn
Oh, Lord I pray
We’ll never get to heaven
Till we reach that day

So ends the first Act of the musical Ragtime, based on the book by E.L. Doctorow. If you have not read the book or seen the musical, I highly recommend both. Ragtime takes place in the beginning of the 20th century and tells a complex story of the Whites in New Rochelle, The African Americans in Harlem, and the Jewish immigrants in New York City, and how their lives become intertwined. The piece I sang was the funeral dirge for one of the African American characters who died in a racial incident. (I am purposefully being vague in case someone wants to read the book).

The song is a cry for change, for the creation of the beloved community that we UUs are so fond of talking about. The song is very UU (except for the praying to the Lord part) in that it asks us to create heaven here on earth instead of looking to heaven in the afterlife. We will never find heaven until we bring peace and justice in the world.

And Pride. This doesn’t seem to fit at first, but with further reflection it makes some since. The pride they are talking about is self-pride. The mourners are calling for a world where everyone is allowed to be proud of who they are. Every identity is valued. Black, white, Jewish, Christian, humanist, gay, straight, male, female, transgender; there are so many identities that get squashed by the institutions of oppression in this country. And so it is necessary that pride sit alongside peace and justice as cornerstones of the beloved community.

We Unitarian Universalists attempt to manifest the beloved community in our search for diversity. Most UU churches are actively trying to make their congregations more diverse, in order to mirror the image of community we would like to see in the world. What happens is that our diversity becomes restricted to racial diversity, and so the less visible elements of our diversity (such as class) are ignored.

Our opening words tells us that Diversity is not tolerance but “the sometimes painful awareness that other people, other races, other voices, other habits of mind, have as much integrity of being, as much claim upon the world, as you do.” I think we intellectually understand this concept, after all this is similar to our first principle, but we have difficulty putting this into practice. This statement requires us to move through the world willing to change, and to accepting the fact that you may not always be right. This type of living leaves us open and potentially vulnerable, but also leads to deeper communion with others.

In the poem, Fighting My Homophobia, Gloria Wade-Gayles writes:
My logic was the logic
of the universe.
Beyond challenge.
Unalterable.
In the divine plan….

until …
names and faces
and voices and eyes
journeyed straight to my heart
with memories of the time when
I knew not, and
Loved them.
Gloria was stuck in her view of reality, her view of how the world should be. It was not until she recognized that the issue that she was fighting was really about people, that she began to allow herself to change. She became open to diversity, because she was able to see the inherent worth and dignity of people different from her.

Being a diverse community means that we need to let go of the “Us vs. Them” mentality. We think differently about those we categorize as “Us” then we do of those we categorize as “Them.” Robert Cormier, in our reading, gives several examples of the “us vs. them” mentality. Casual vs. Slob, contemplative vs. lazy, inquisitive vs. nosy, these are just a few of the ways we turn a phrase in order to accord favor with Us or put Them in a bad light. We all have done it at one point or another. The trick is to be aware of when we do it, so that we can move away from this loaded language and move towards a more respectful approach.

I have seen this mentality play out in UU churches in regards to diversity. The question generally asked is, how do we get them into our churches? We have labeled them other, even before they enter the church. Most likely, they will feel other when they enter in, because we have already set up that dynamic before they walked into the doors.

On the other hand, we also do not want to pretend that the difference is not there. Pretending devalues essential parts of the person’s experience as not relevant. The corollary to this is that by ignoring their difference, you create a situation where you are the norm and the unspoken expectation is that the other person will conform to that norm. After all, you are ignoring anything that is different from you.

This issue of conformity underlies the UU quest for diversity. Are we really looking for people who are different to embrace that difference, or are we looking for people who are different that will become like us. While most UUs would proclaim the former, the reality is that our denomination has certain expectations and assumptions of members that lie unspoken. For example, if you look at traditional UU worship, it is clear that it was developed for and by White, Upper Middle Class Intellectuals. The liturgy focuses more on thought and reflection and less on feeling and action. So if someone comes to a UU church looking to embody our message, they will leave unfulfilled.

Several years ago, I was talking with a group of Young Adult People of Color. In our sharing, we asked each other, “What did you have to give up to be Unitarian Universalist?” All of us had an answer to that question. I have given up a connection to spirit and how that spirit moves me through music. Others gave up the freedom to be their full selves, while others gave up community. Since then I have asked the question to white UUs, and none of them were able to answer the question.

It is disconcerting to know that People of Color lose something upon become Unitarian Universalist. For a denomination focused on inclusivity and diversity, something is missing. This says to me that this work is only surface, and deeper commitments and understandings need to be made. Our denomination is practicing a diversity based on accommodation instead of one based on upholding our differences. Although individual churches have been successful, as a whole our denomination has far to go towards embodying diversity.

So what can we do to be truly diverse? The first thing is to ask the question “Why do you want to be diverse?” “Because it is the right thing to do,” is not an acceptable answer. I am asking you to delve deep into yourself and ask, why is diversity important to you? Why do you think it is the right thing to do? What values are you trying to uphold? Understanding the answers to these questions will clarify your motivations and will inform the way you seek out diversity.

After you have answered the question, look at the diversity you already have. We generally equate diversity with race, but that is not the only diversity that exists. There is gender identity, class, sexual orientation, political party, and many other ways that Unitarian Universalists are diverse. Before we can try to encourage diverse people in our congregations, we should understand the diversity that is already present, and how we deal with it. If the present diversity is hidden, than that is most likely what will happen to the new diversity that comes into the church.

The next step towards diversity is to stop intellectualizing the process. We spend too much time planning, charting, and defining. We forget that this is about a connection between two people. If we think too much about it, we become more focused on the appearance of diversity and not the experience of it. Our diversity work turns toward proving that we are diverse. This usually means that we try to bring in people who look different so that we can look out into the congregation and exclaim, “Look how diverse we are!” Their value is in their difference, and you do not allow them to bring all of their selves to the table. After all, you have not prepared to deal with the differences, just in the presentation of it. The differences may be too much to handle, or you may find that they are more similar than you ever imagined.

Once you know why you want to be diverse, and you don’t over intellectualize it, you have to be open to change. Diversity is not about interacting with someone who will eventually become like you. Diversity is about interacting with someone who may eventually change you. Diversity is the admission that we do not have all the answers, and that another person may help us see clearer than we are able. Diversity is about ignoring our expectations and remaining open to the revelation of another. Diversity is action, a process, a way of life. Once we decide to embark on this path, we must keep moving or we will find ourselves back where we started.

Beginning next Sunday, Mark and I will be presenting a film series on oppressions. For four Sundays we will look at the issues of sexual orientation, race, class, and gender identity. Each film addresses a different oppression and there will be time to discuss the film, it’s impact, and the implications for us as Unitarian Universalists. As we look at diversity in our denomination, it is important to recognize the issues that are faced by those that make up that diversity.

As we look towards creating that beloved community in the world, we must begin to do the work in our congregations. Only then can we manifest the spirit of diversity into the world. As Gandhi said, “We must be the change we want to make.”

Let the new day dawn
Oh, Lord I pray
We’ll never get to heaven
Till we reach that day

Blessed be.


Meditation: “Soul Lifts” by Tess Baumberger

Wouldn't it be great if you could take a picture of your soul?
Then when your mother wanted to brag about you
she could show people the picture and say,
"That's my daughter, doesn't she have a beautiful soul,
all sparkly and many-colored and flowing all around her?"

Wouldn't it be great if we walked around
surrounded by our souls,
so that they were the first things people saw
instead of the last things?
Then people would judge us by who we really are
instead of how we look.
Imagine no more racism, ageism, sexism, fatism, shortism, homophobia.
Imagine falling in love with who a person is,
just by looking at them.

It would be a kind of cloaking device,
hiding physical faults defects or even perfections.
I'd want it to be mandatory.
Then people would work at making their souls more attractive
instead of their bodies and faces.

Imagine people knowing by your soul that you really need a hug.
Imagine people helping each other and their souls changing colors
or growing.

Imagine


Closing Words: from “The Language of Action” by William M. Chace

Being strong in life is being strong amid differences while accepting the fact that your own self can be a considerable imposition upon everyone you meet. I urge you to consider your own oddity before you are troubled or offended by that of others. And I urge you, amid all the differences present to the eye and mind, to reach out and create the bonds that will sustain the commonwealth that will protect us all. We are meant to be here together.

William M. Chace, "The Language of Action," Wesleyan LXII, #2, Fall 1989, p. 36.

“The High Cost of Faith” - Mark W. Harris

February 26, 2006 - First Parish of Watertown

Opening Words - from Mark 12:41-44

He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor woman has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.

Reading - “Compensation” by Ralph Waldo Emerson

A wise man will extend this lesson to all parts of life, and know that it is the part of prudence to face every claimant and pay every just demand on your time, your talents, or your heart. Always pay; for first or last you must pay your entire debt. Persons and events may stand for a time between you and justice, but it is only a postponement. You must pay at last your own debt. If you are wise you will dread a prosperity which only loads you with more. Benefit is the end of nature. But for every benefit which you receive, a tax is levied. He is great who confers the most benefits. He is base -- and that is the one base thing in the universe - to receive favors and render none. In the order of nature we cannot render benefits to those from whom we receive them, or only seldom. But the benefit we receive must be rendered again, line for line, deed for deed, cent for cent, to somebody. Beware of too much good staying in your hand. It will fast corrupt and worm worms. Pay it away quickly in some sort.

Sermon -
Ever since the days of Ronald Reagan, the public has been in a tax revolt, and countering the libertarian individualism of these rebels has been difficult for those who wish we would be more conscious of a community spirit where we support public programs and services that benefit everyone. Of course this spirit was not entirely new with Reagan. Once upon a time, at least for the two centuries from 1630-1833, most congregational ministers in Massachusetts were dependent upon tax dollars. With a state controlled church, church buildings were maintained and ministers were paid from public coffers. The result was that people fought often over how their tax dollars were to be spent, even under Puritan theocracies. Here in Watertown, they battled over the location of the meetinghouse. Why do you think we have had eight buildings? Not because a contractor was a prominent member, although that does sound like Massachusetts politics. No. Those early residents of Weston and Waltham and Belmont wanted the building situated closer to their homes, so they didn’t have to walk for miles through snow drifts and downpours. The Belmont town records indicate that the people did not want to “drive over windswept hills into Watertown.” Ultimately placing a meetinghouse at the top of Common Street did not help the situation, and the separate town was established. The spending of tax dollars also effected the minister’s salaries. It was frequently a way to comment on an individual’s feelings towards the minister. They didn’t want their tax dollars paying for a minister who preached orthodox or liberal doctrines, depending upon your perspective, nor for one wo held particular political perspectives or had their own ideas about usage of time. Even Seth Storer, our long term minister who was in residence for half of the 18th century, even soft-spoken Seth, who would not say a negative word about anybody or anything complained to the legislature that his salary was not sufficient. Was he too liberal? Were they spending tax dollars on something else? We don’t know, but it is certain, even with someone who was apparently well loved, that it all came down to money.
The famous song from the musical Cabaret reminds us, that money makes the world go ‘round. We all know that. Most of us think about our resources and how we can provide for our families and ourselves all the time. How can we pay for high heating costs? How can we pay for college? How can we pay for care for aging or ill parents? We make compromises so that some things get paid for, and other things must wait until another day. We make choices about what is important to us. Going out, vacations, college, church, cars, mortgages and repairs, clothes, furniture and books all vie for dollars. Will we have enough to retire some day? I remember encountering an official from the UUA a year or so ago at an event at the First Church in Roxbury, and I expressed to him my fears about the stock market and my invested pension funds not growing enough. While I expected some kind of sympathetic response, he said, “you are lucky you are in a profession, where you can just keep on working into old age.” It felt like he was saying, you can work yourself into the grave, and you’ll still never have enough. It made me fear for my future.
Fear is often a governing factor when it comes to life. We respond to situations out of fear. In my own case I realized this was especially true of a time for me when many of us are already operating out of fear: the regular visit to the dentist. What is he going to say about the condition of my teeth and gums, and how much is it going to cost me? The context in my case is that I am someone who was had most everything imaginable done to his teeth. I have had various and intense gum scrapings, scaling and surgeries, gum grafts, teeth extraction's, and finally a partial plate, but no implants. I sit in the dentists chair, knowing that a $1,000 deductible barely covers one procedure, if that. I sit there and wonder, what’s next on the list. I am motivated to some extent by fear. While I have been the recipient of countless lectures on brushing, flossing, rubber tipping and tongue scraping, I can never quite been able to use that fear to bring me to respond to and accomplish all of my maintenance needs. While I often get good reports these days on the condition of my teeth and gums, and feel some measure of accomplishment, my long term prognosis remains uncertain. So fear still rules. I worry that one day I will be some toothless wonder gumming my food to death in old age.
I ended up doing the seemingly necessary things like root canals and crowns, but stopped short of implants for monetary reasons. Part of the problem with my fear is that it is exacerbated by mistrust. You see I have both a periodontist and a regular dentist. The periodontist counseled against the partial plate, and always seems to want to perform implants as the best solution. While they may be the best solution, it is also the solution that benefits him the most. He was against the partial, saying you don’t want all that excess hardware, and added to my fear by saying that there would be a domino effect of the plate pulling on the teeth its metal clasps are attached to, so that they would become loosened and would eventually need to be replaced. The long term result was toothless again. He said, “go with the implants,” including recently suggesting pulling a tooth that is merely positioned poorly. In the meantime, my regular dentist says that is foolish to pull a tooth that does not need to be pulled, suggesting instead that the periodontist should perform a different gum procedure. The last I heard was that they would consult. They’ll talk. I’ll pay. Who to trust, and who to listen to?
The reading from the best seller, Freakanomics, addresses this question of fear and trust. We act out of fear sometimes, because we don’t want to end up on the floor with the heart attack, or we want the car that will seemingly prevent serious injury or the loss of life in the event of a crash. We don’t like to say, “Oh, I’ll take my chances,” with that inferior product or do nothing, especially if it comes down to a serious matter such as health. Even if it costs us, we say better safe than sorry. Of course we all take risks with our choices in life. We can weigh the information the experts provide us with, but we can usually never be sure of the outcome until long after the decision is made. I don’t want to spend the money on implants at this stage of my life. I take the chance that more teeth will be lost, and I still cannot afford to replace them. Or it may be that the status quo, or what I am doing for maintenance will be sufficient. I have to weigh the expert information based on my own life. Will I end up toothless or not? When we sold our house in Maine, I feared the same concerns voiced in Freakanomics. Did we just want to unload it to the lone bidder because it was a reasonable offer or refuse because it was much lower than we had hoped, and then take the chance it wouldn’t sell. Did the agent see the opportunity to make a reasonable amount of money for himself then or did he know the buyer and see us as people from away ripe to be soaked. Was he thinking, I’ll get my friends a good deal? Who knows? We made a decision, and the house sold. And so far, I still have my teeth.
Fear has often been characterized as a human emotion that churches manipulate to convince members to give more money. We sometimes hear that Catholics continue to go to a church riddled with abuse and hypocrisy because they fear they will be condemned to hell if they do not conform. I frankly don’t know if fear is still a factor that works on people with respect to religious favors. We UUs gave that up long ago when we guaranteed universal salvation. No fear factor here except a life without love, without equality, without compassion. Maybe the evangelical preachers have their flocks convinced that there is no saving truth in their life unless they attend a particular church, and find Jesus and become baptized and saved through this experience. Does fear keep them coming back for more? Do they expect life favors like riches and good health or after life rewards of eternity in heaven if they give more money to the church? Does fear make them believe that God can be bought off?
The confluence of dentistry and money came back to me when I recalled a sometimes forgotten American novel called McTeague. McTeague was written by Frank Norris in 1899. It was the middle of America’s Gilded Age when greed and gluttony were evident in the lives of many Americans, but especially recalled in the infamy of those tycoons known as the Robber Barons. McTeague’s life revolves around three things - a canary he keeps in a cage, a concertina he plays upon, and an enormous gold-plated tooth that he hopes to hang outside his dentist shop one day. The dentist falls in love with his best friend’s girl, and this eventually leads to his downfall. She is obsessed with status, and her most striking feature is her hair, of which Norris says, “all the vitality that should have given color to her face” . . . were given over to this hair, this adornment. McTeague slowly begins to take on her tastes which are more indulgent than his, but their fortunes decline when he is exposed for having obtained his credentials fraudulently. She eventually wins the lottery, but in her miserliness, she will not let him touch the money. He becomes increasingly resentful of her, degenerates into drinking excessively, and eventually kills her. The novel ends when he is pursued into the desert by both a posse and his former best friend. When a mule bearing the only canteen of water runs away from them, it is shot, and falls, bursting open the canteen. Despite their doomed fate, the two men, in their mindless greed, wrestle over a sack of gold attached to the mule’s saddle horn. McTeague shoots his former friend, but in his final moments gasping for breath, the friend manages to handcuff the wrists of the two men together. So McTeague ends up locked to a dead man, adjacent to a dead mule, saddled with useless bags of money.
The novel does give us some sense of the striving and yearnings, and the struggles and resultant resentments middle class Americans can go through in trying to sort out issues of money. Selfishness, greed, image and status all play a role in the human relationships we encounter, and what kind of self-image we have as a result. What can I do financially with what I have is an ever present question. Do I have enough? Do I resent those who have more? Fear again may be a factor when we worry if we have enough resources to provide for our needs and those of our children. The problem is we all want to make the right decisions. So how can I use that fear in a positive way?
It is always interesting to me how quickly I can be reassured in these moments of fear I feel sitting in the dentists chair. If the dental assistant says she is checking for mouth cancer, I go into a panic of what if. But if she doesn’t use the fatal “C” word, and says she is checking my mouth, and then follows that with the words “It looks fine,” then I am reassured. Whether it is the dentist, or the UUA official, I want someone to tell me that it going to be all right in the end. Don’t leave me hanging. Even if I am told there are things I can do to achieve the desired result, I still need reassurance rather than the disaster of teeth falling out, or working until I drop. I want to hear that what I will do will make a difference in stemming this fear. I also want to hear that there is hope.
If you have not guessed it by now, today is canvass Sunday. I suppose the ideal image for us for this day is found with the opening words from the Gospel of Mark. Here is a generous person par excellence. We may feel like her, as most of us do not have a great abundance we can give from. We have limited means, too and yet this woman gave what she had to live on. She probably reflected deeply on what importance her faith had to her, and then responded in kind. During the past few years Andrea and I have tried to do the same in this faith community. We love this place and its people deeply, and we have tried to reflect some of that feeling in what we pledge to support it. Sometimes churches give you a litany of what the church provides you with. We could calculate how much it costs to educate a child in our RE program, or what it takes to produce a Sunday worship service. We hope we provide education and inspiration for all ages. We want to bring some understanding of religious issues in the world and in your lives. We want to stand by you in times of life’s passage, and also provide a loving community of friendship and support. We hope it is an important place in your lives, and you will reflect what it gives to you by pledging in return.
But I don’t think that is the most important part of the canvass pitch. I don’t want you to think about what you are getting. That sounds like a cost/benefit ratio. I’ll bet few of us support the church based on that. No. We pledge to the church for larger reasons than that. I am not sure the woman who gave from what she had to live on was concerned with what she was getting. She gave because she knew this faith of hers was that important, that vital to the world and its future. I am often left feeling amazed when we have a special collection for something like the UU Service Committee’s Guest at Your Table, or helping out in times of international disaster or local need. There is a tremendous sense of passionate generosity that emerges when we identify this need. One of my students commented on this phenomenon in a recent paper, and then quoted Harvard’s former president, Charles Eliot, “the surest way to get money for a service institution is for that institution to do something deserving of support.” Perhaps we did that by showing the community how a building can be completely accessible, saving and rehabbing an historic structure, or speaking out and acting on our support of same sex marriage.
Each of those things we did were reflections of our liberal faith. We said everyone needs to be welcomed here. We said growing from our past and preserving that which is beautiful is important, and we said that every person deserves to be able to express their love in complete, open and just ways. There is a need in the world today. And we address that need by responding to all the fear that is everywhere around us with the message of our liberal faith. All of us live with fears -economic, medical, political and perhaps most fearsome, environmental, and without the presence of our faith in my life, and in the life of the world, there would be much more fear. There is a culture of terror, and war and wastefulness and hate all around us. And so we need to do two things. First, we talk about our fears. We say things look pretty bad. We cannot hide our heads in the sand. We certainly don’t gloss things over with false truths about peace and plenty. What this recognizes though is that the world needs us and our faith. Think of fear in this way. I am afraid of what the world would be like without our liberal faith.
Did you see the Globe headline yesterday about the outlawing of abortion in South Dakota? I want you to think back now to how our liberal faith has inspired change in our world. There was the first edict of religious tolerance in history. We said people of different faiths can get along. There was Theodore Parker, one of our better known former student ministers in Watertown, battling the great evil of slavery. There was Unitarian Susan B. Anthony battling to give women the right to vote. There was a man named Reeb giving his life for civil rights. There was a man named Schemp fighting to remove compulsory prayer from the public schools and separating church and state, There was a woman escorting others to a clinic because she wants to exercise her freedom of choice. There was a woman in a law suit to challenge the marriage laws that don’t welcome same sex love. Justice, equity, compassion. Yet how many are still using a message of fear to provoke hatred of others?
Fear is a factor here because I am afraid of what the world would be like without our liberal faith. For many of our fellow travelers there has been a high cost of faith. And the religious coalition for abortion rights may need each of you in the years ahead to preserve freedom, dignity and choice. I began by asking if we are motivated by fear. Fear may be part of it, because we are afraid of what might happen. But it is Emerson’s compensatory side that gives birth to the deeper challenge to end these fears, to fight for truth and justice. Fear gives birth to the hope that this faith of ours provides a more just and loving vision for the world. The debt, Emerson speaks of, is this wonderful faith we have been given. And we must pay out its benefit to see its message imparted. The world needs this faith now more than ever. Stand by it and support it, and help it become all that it could be, and make it ever more deserving of your support.

Closing Words - from Alfred North Whitehead
The secret of happiness lies in knowing this: that we live by the law of expenditure. We find the greatest joy, not in getting, but in expressing what we are. There are tides in the ocean of life, and what comes in depends upon what goes out. The currents flow inward only when there is an outlet. Nature does not give to those who will not spend; her gifts are merely loaned to those who will not use them. . . empty your lungs and breathe. Run, climb, work and laugh; the more you give out, the more you shall receive.