Offered to the New England LREDA
spring retreat
Reverend
Jason Shelton spoke about our sources in Unitarian Universalism, and he offered
these words:
“There
are differences between us that are real and substantive, and if we let them,
they could tear us apart... If we don’t
engage with what it means to be Christian in a UU setting, or humanist in a
pluralist setting, then we are lacking the tools to be in community with one
another. Instead of watering everything
down to the theological least common denominator, we need to be in integrity
with each of our Sources—not watering down Christianity so the humanist
feels comfortable with it, or watering down humanism so the pagans feel
comfortable with it. Sometimes there
will be things that express your theology and make me feel uncomfortable, but I
will grow spiritually by being in community with you, who sees things
differently.” [1]
This
really resonates for me, and I see many parallels to the conversation we are
facing right now. I would offer that it is equally important, maybe even more
important for us to be in integrity with each other, to be considering each of
our rich tapestries of cultures, and experiences as sources for our growth as a
faith community. Our leadership must reflect those many diverse experiences,
not because it is just, but because it is essential to what Reverend
Mishra-Marzetti called “the promise and dream of Unitarian Universalism.”
I
believe in that promise and I will fight passionately against critique of the
deep down seed of our shared religion. And still, there are a million examples
of ways that I fail to meet the values and promise that are offered to me
through Unitarian Universalism. If living into my faith is a mountain I must
climb, it is hulking, and I don’t expect I’ll ever reach the top.
It is
essential for me to critique myself as I live into my faith, and it is equally
essential that we critique our larger institutional structure; this does not
weaken our faith, it nourishes it.
I don’t
generally get to attend worship on Sunday mornings-perhaps you can relate- and
so I have developed a practice of streaming a worship service each week, from one
place or another. Last week I watched a worship that was given during the Black
Lives UU convening, by Reverend Osagyefo Uhuru Secou. He is a Pentecostal minister, he was at
GA last year, I imagine some of you are familiar with him.
In the
worship he sang a song using a verse from the bible- Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence
of things not seen.
Being
able to find wisdom in bible teachings is a fairly new thing for me, as a
lifelong-UU, but that verse really struck me. It spoke to so many twitchings
I’ve been navigating of late, and during the sermon I wrote it down so I would
remember it.
----
A few
days later, the frustrating news about the recent UUA hiring emerged. I know many
of you have been reading and thinking deeply about this same event. I found
myself looking back at moments where I’ve seen our community take on this task
of self evaluation with grace. I re-watched Gail Seavey’s Berry Street lecture,
I read again, some of the reflections of Reverend Dr. Mark Morrison-Reed, and I
returned to Reverend Secou’s worship.
Reverend
Secou was offering his sermon to a room of black UU’s, and he was preaching to
them about the ways in which the black community has served as a moral compass
in our country and how black UU’s serve as a moral compass in Unitarian
Universalism. He spoke about black joy,
“This
joy that I have, the world didn’t give it to me, and the world can’t take it
away”.
He
spoke about the strength that comes with having survived suffering, and he
suggested that there is power in reclaiming resiliency as being normative,
rather than pathologic. As I watched his sermon I felt in my heart the reality
that we still have a lot of work to do in our UU community related to our accountability
to one another- I have felt that before, and I know I will feel it again.
Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen.
This
moment is not a comfortable moment. It is not even a welcome one, really, in
the sense that I wish it had not happened. I wish, when the UUA hiring
committee was faced with a choice between these two candidates, that they had
made a different choice. It is, however, interesting to ask the following question.
IF Christina Rivera had been hired, would our community be in a much different
place?
The
larger context has to be kept in our minds as we consider what is unfolding.
The reasons for this decision, the wave of outcries, and these gasps of
disbelief are complicated and rooted in the history of our faith and our
country. And they are playing themselves out through the members of our
community, who, like you and I, are climbing a very big mountain and are nowhere
near the top.
Since
Election Day, my congregation has been welcoming many new faces, new families,
and many long time folks seeking to be more active, looking for ways to resist,
to organize, to speak out against a shift in our country that feels dangerous.
Instead of the winter slump in attendance that we usually experience, our
numbers have stayed steady. People are coming to us searching.
I think
this is true for many UU churches right now, because we have a reputation for
being justice minded, for fighting for equality. We host discussion groups,
organize busses to DC, hold vigils in response to hate. If you are looking for
somewhere to engage, this is an obvious place to look. Unfortunately, when a
community of people have this reputation, it is very easy to start to believe
you have climbed to the top of the mountain and that now, you simply need to
invite others to come on up. Our reaction to this week’s turn of events
suggests we’re uncovering a myth about Unitarian Universalism that many of us
had bought into, but which is not true. “the promise and dream of Unitarian
Universalism” is something we are striving
toward, but we are not there.
So,
returning to the question of ‘what if’, I would suggest, that if this
particular moment had gone differently, then this conversation we are engaging
with would have waited until next week, or the week after that, or a few months
from now when something else would have unfolded, reflecting how very far we
still need to walk together to become what we covenant to be with each other.
Our
despair in this conversation, I think, relates more to a false assumption than
it does to an individual staffing choice. We live in a country built with a
foundation of patriarchy and white supremacy, and we are members of a faith
that grew from that paradigm. No matter what identity we claim as individuals,
breaking down this hegemony is a very complicated task. It is elusive in part
because for many of us it is comfortable, at least in the sense that it is what
we know. But remaining comfortable is not climbing.
Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen.
In my
congregation, most of the volunteers who teach in Religious education identify
as women. At the LREDA conference in San
Diego last year, I think you could have fit the number of men in attendance at
one table—maybe two. American public education, particularly elementary
education, reflects a similar imbalance. My son’s elementary school is staffed
entirely by female teachers with the exception of 3 men, one is the PE teacher,
one teaches art, and the third is the principal. Every classroom teacher is
female. How does this reality affect our children’s understanding of the world,
of gender roles, of learning styles and communication skills? How does the
prevalence of female educators in public education affect our opinion of the
profession?
When
Peter Morales spoke this week, one of the comments he made was that hiring a religious
educator in a staff leadership position is problematic because they often do
not have “as much management
experience as ministers. “So the question is, are you willing to overlook that
and train them?” he asked, adding, “you don’t want to set people up for failure”
by putting them in positions they aren’t ready for.
Buddha observed: In a
controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the
truth, and have begun striving for ourselves.
Let us receive
this moment as an opportunity- an invitation- to climb. If we can recognize
that this is another moment of illumination along our path, another glimpse at
the deep work we have set ourselves toward as a community of faith, then this
moment becomes a moment of opportunity.
In his
sermon, Reverend Secou said: “we must be
very careful, as Unitarian Universalists, that we are in the practice of
remembering our history and the history of our country, and that we are not,
instead creating myth and calling it history. “ He was speaking in the context
of navigating our faith as a black UU, but his warning applies to all of us. We
have not reached some pinnacle of enlightenment, but rather are, I hope, committed
to the climb, and that requires us to be humble and be prepared to face the
mistakes we make on the journey. It requires us to be accountable to one
another. And again, Reverend Secou’s message relates, “Accountability” he said
and I agree, “is predicated on the idea of relationship. You cannot hold
somebody accountable that you are not in relationship with.“
I
believe in that accountability and in that relationship.
I
believe that resiliency is normative.
I believe that the hardest moments in my life
are the source of some of my greatest strengths,
and I
know that I have a mountain of management experience, even though I’m just a
religious educator.
Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen.
Amen
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