Looking Back, Looking Forward
Unitarian Universalist Church of Augusta
June 14 2015
I love the types of
jokes that start with just have a phrase and then fill in the blanks.
Looking back, I
like to think of Unitarian Universalism as filling in the blanks for me. And
the blanks go way back to the time in England when I was the director of
religious education for the Catholic Sunday School at the American base where
Wil worked. I had off and on taught Sunday School ever since I was 18, and
before we moved to England in 1983 I’d been an RE teacher for the Annapolis
Catholic church.
So I decided to
continue teaching in the small American Catholic congregation’s Sunday School
once we arrived in Yorkshire, and the next year found myself the DRE! I needed
inspiration, and resources, and I found the Diocese of Leeds Religious
Education Centre, which was for teachers of religious education in the Catholic
schools of the diocese. It was great to find lots of things that helped me with
the RE program, but the more I knew about RE curricula, the more I wanted to
know about theology. I applied for a place at the local Catholic university to
study theology…and when I got my degree, I got another degree, and began to
teach at university level in theology and religious studies.
And that’s when the
bottom fell out for me! I realized how little I knew about religion, about
spirituality, and the courses that I was teaching made me thirsty to learn
more. I began to learn about about feminist theology, ecofeminism, wiccan
ritual, process theology…all this way beyond what my own religious experience
had been to that point. I knew that I was nearly past the point of no return to
my Catholic faith when I found myself celebrating a solstice ritual with the
pagan chaplain to Leeds University.
And then we came
back home to Augusta GA, and soon we were so dejected after trying to fit into
Southern Catholic parish culture that we stopped going to church at all. I had
lots of blanks to fill in: I had left my long-time teaching post which I loved,
and had to face the fact that I would never teach theology again here in
Augusta. I missed my colleagues and friends, and the place that had become my
home. I had at least been hanging on to my faith before we moved, with a parish
priest whose Celtic spirituality was supportive, but now had no desire to
practice the Southern conservative Catholicism I found here…I had plenty of
blanks to fill in, until I was invited to speak here at this church about my
academic specialism of theology and film.
The experience of
giving a sermon here, and being welcomed so warmly in this place, was amazing.
And within weeks I was joining the choir, being croned by the women’s group,
and within a year volunteering to run Adult Religious Education classes, and
within 2 years training to be a ministry associate.
Clearly this church
filled in the blanks for me; I found a home where I was free to ask questions,
could try new worship experiences and hear different, challenging ideas from
the podium almost every week.
I’m not the only
one – many of you have walked through those doors and you thought after the
first few minutes that this place is too good to be true. You thought, where
have you been all my life? You thought, I have found my tribe!
Alice and Andy
found this church home filled in the blanks for them when Alice became ill;
specifically, the love and comfort and support that they both received in the
midst of that crisis from the members of this congregation. John also will tell
you that when he fell ill shortly after beginning to attend this church, he
received pastoral care that made him want to give back.
Why would you come
back here week after week comes unless you’ve found something that fills in the
blank for you – whether it’s a song we sing or a postlude that Joe plays, an
in-depth discussion at a meeting of the Limbo crowd, the chance to come up here
and share a joy or sorrow, being part of the volunteer team at the Master’s
Table, lunch with the Retired Old Men Eating Out?
And when your
blanks are filled in, your questions answered – or at least respected and
acknowledged – you regard all these people as kindred spirits. We are not all
alike, we can’t say we are of like minds, but we all appreciate being here
because we feel we matter to each other and we belong together.
Cathy wrote in the
song she sang for our chalice lighting,
“Along this
interdependent web
Of our
existence
May we journey
Knowing we are
one
Gathering here
to seek
Gathering here
to share
Gathering here
to speak
Gathering here to care.”
(“The Candle of Faith”, by Cathy Benedetto)
The affirmation of community
that comes, in the words of Mark Morrison-Reed, from “the
connectedness…discovered amid the particulars of our lives and the lives of
others… inspires us to act for justice.” He writes that “the religious
community is essential, for alone our vision is too narrow to see all that must
be seen, and our strength too limited to do all that must be done.” (#580, Singing the Living Tradition)
Looking forward, we
can all know that walking through those doors every Sunday will be someone who
has blanks to fill in, just like you did at one time; will you be the person
they remember offering a hand to shake, making them welcome? That’s doing the
work of ministry, and I am looking forward to another year of collaborating
with you in that work.
Putting together
this sermon wasn’t easy…because this is not an ordinary Sunday service. It has
that feel of the end of the school year for me, like the last period before
school lets out for the summer. We’re all a little distracted because there’s
this great potluck waiting outside in the common area, and there’s the Annual
Congregational Meeting with its fascinating reports, its exciting
congregational votes…okay, well it does have awards, which are always nice.
But I love this
service each year because it gives me a chance, before delivering my Minister’s
End-of-Year Report in the Meeting proper, to thank all those people who have
made this a great year for me…who have challenged me, who have supported me,
who have prayed for me, who have dragged me through the rough times and floated
on the clouds with me during the fun times, the happy times. I will mention in
my report the highlights of the past church year…but really, every day has been
a highlight of my year. I’ve said to our board president that being paid to be
a minister is like being paid to eat ice cream…that may not seem such a big
deal if you don’t care for ice cream! But I love ice cream, and the idea of
being paid to eat it is incredibly exciting. Serving as your minister is just
as exciting to me, and collaborating with members is the only way to serve,
exactly because of what Morrison-Reed observes, that my vision alone “is too
narrow to see all that must be seen”, and my strength alone is “too limited to
do all that must be done.”
I’d like to end
with a quote from Rachel
Remen, who says:
Service is not
the same as helping. Helping is based on inequality,
it's not a relationship between equals. When you help, you use your
own strength to help someone with less strength.
It's a one up, one down relationship, and people feel this inequality.
When we help, we may inadvertently take away more
than we give, diminishing the person's sense of self-worth and
self-esteem… Serving is also different to fixing. We fix broken
pipes; we don't fix people. When I set about fixing another person, it's
because I see them as broken. Fixing is a form
of judgment that separates us from one another; it creates a
distance. So fundamentally, helping, fixing and serving are ways
of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak; when you
fix, you see life as broken; and when you serve, you see life
as whole. When we serve in this way, we understand that this person's
suffering is also my suffering, that their joy is also my joy… We may help
or fix many things in our lives, but when we
serve, we are always in the service of wholeness.
(https://www.uc.edu/content/dam/uc/honors/docs/communityengagement/HelpingFixingServing.pdf)
Filling in those blanks that plague us, that lessen us, that frustrate
us, makes us whole. We fill in those blanks in a spirit of hope, and when we
fill them in we are honoring those who have gone before us. As Holly Near
sings,
“I am open
and I am
willing
For To be
hopeless
would seem so
strange
It dishonors
those who go
before us
So lift me up
to
the light of change.”
(http://www.hollynear.com/lyrics.html)
We fill
in those blanks with the help of the Spirit of Life; we can be open and willing
to effect real change, both in our own lives and the wider world, because we
grow roots that hold us close and we have wings that set us free.
Blessed
be, Amen.
Gaye Ortiz
June 14 2015
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