First Parish Unitarian Universalist"Doing Too Much"
Sermon by the Rev. Diane Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
December 10, 2000
Back in the days of the "good old boys," it is said that career moves were often made in the men's room. I suppose they still are–I wouldn't know. But, I do know that today career opportunities happen in the women's rest room, too. That's where this story begins.
Last June in the ladies room of a Nashville hotel, I was invited to be a guest preacher in the most historic pulpit in our movement.
That it happened in Nashville isn't so surprising–the annual General Assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association was to take place there at the end of the week, and the ministers were there early for our usual professional development programming and the annual meeting of the UU Ministers Association. That's when I ran into my colleague Phyllis Hubble in the hotel ladies room. She is co-minister, with her husband John Manville, of First Unitarian Church in downtown Baltimore, Maryland.
That it was an invitation to preach in Baltimore isn't so surprising, either. My husband Don grew up in that church, his parents remained active, and his father served on the Search Committee that chose Phyllis and John. They were present at my mother-in-law's bedside when she died, officiated at her memorial service, and subsequently performed the wedding ceremony of my father-in-law Clare to another parishioner. Often, when Don and I and the kids visit family in Baltimore, we attend services there.
"We ought to have you preach in Baltimore this year," Phyllis said. "Next time you come to visit Clare and Betty."
"That's likely to be for Thanksgiving, and I'd be delighted," I said.
There's more to my story, but you may be interested to know why the Baltimore pulpit is the most historic in our movement. First, it's in an historic building. First Unitarian in Baltimore is recognized as the first church building in the United States to be built as a Unitarian church. That is, as opposed to those–like ours– that were built as Puritan or congregational churches whose congregations later became Unitarian.
But, the pulpit in that building is historic in its own right for it was there, in 1819, at the ordination and installation of Jared Sparks, their first settled minister, that the Reverend Doctor William Ellery Channing from Boston preached his landmark sermon launching American Unitarianism as a new kind of Christianity. I remember first reading that sermon as a theological school student: having been raised Presbyterian, I was astounded to find that someone was preaching—way back then–the very things about Christianity I thought I’d come to in some very contemporary and original way.
The substance of Channing's Baltimore sermon was a two-fold departure from Calvinism, the dominant Protestant theology of the day. One, he insisted that rational thought–reason–ought to be applied to the Bible, because of changing historical circumstances and because of the inherently symbolic character of so many of the scriptures. The other, resulting from this less literal, liberal, no-miracles interpretation of the Bible, was that Jesus was human, not God; that he had brought a moral, not heavenly, deliverance; and that human beings could participate in the moral perfection of God by developing their own moral character following Jesus' teachings.
It is said that the acoustics in the new building were so poor that only the people in the first few pews could hear the sermon, which (they say) was providential since Baltimore wasn't ready for Channing's message.
As Thanksgiving got closer, my enthusiasm for preaching in this famous pulpit waned. The idea of working on my only weekend off between Columbus Day and New Year's weighed on me ominously. I felt I sorely needed the break that only a Sunday off provides a preacher.
Famous pulpit or not, pleasing the in-laws or not, the excitement of a large urban congregation or not…I began to develop a bit of an "attitude" about having accepted the invitation to preach in Baltimore on Thanksgiving weekend. Resentment began to overshadow my initial enthusiasm. I was too tired!
Now, I'm not proud of the fact, but this "bit of an attitude" expressed itself in a rather contrary way, As, bad attitudes usually do!
It led me to decide that I wouldn't bring my preacher's robe for the occasion, even though I was fairly sure that the ministers there robe every Sunday, and one should always do as the Romans do. Too much trouble to pack. Too much trouble to carry on the airplane. Too long and bulky, I might trip on it, since I'm not accustomed to wearing it every week. Too hot. Too black. Too pompous.
As you know, here at First Parish I wear my robe and stole on Christmas Eve and for weddings and memorial services if the families wish me to, and for special ceremonial occasions such as ordinations and installations, of course.
But, I wear street clothes on Sundays. This is my preference, but I am not alone among UU preachers in it. My reasons are that I do not wish to be set apart from the people in the pews by that particular attire of authority, and also because I perceive it to be an obstacle, sometimes a frightening one, in relating to the children in a congregation.
Others of my colleagues choose to robe on Sundays, and if it had been insisted on here when you called me as your minister, I likely would have acquiesced. Turns out that I'm even gladder that you didn't because it gets rather hot up here when the heat's on, with the vent on both sides of the altar blowing, and hot air rising!
So, I decided not to robe for my guest preaching engagement in Baltimore. Instead I would wear the dress I'd worn here the week before, for our Intergenerational thanksgiving service–long and purple with a scarf that resembles a stole somewhat. It would be fine, and I'd be comfortable.
It got neatly packed into our garment bag, along with my Sunday shoes, Don's sportcoat, and some other clothes. However, when we arrived at the airport and unloaded all the suitcases…no garment bag! Yes, we'd left it hanging on our bedroom door!
No dress, no shoes, and as you know, no robe!
I was familiar with the feeling of dread that quickly enveloped me. Familiar, not from real life, but from dreams–preacher-dreams, many of them–dreams in which I'd shown up to preach in jeans or worse, or opened my folder only to find the sermon wasn't there; dreams in which I arrived late, didn't know where to enter from or exit to, or forgot I was supposed to preach at all and sat in a hard-to-get-out-of-pew; dreams in which there was no order of worship and chaos ensued in the pews!
Waiting at the baggage claim area in Baltimore, I explained to my father-in-law, Clare, about the garment bag with my dress for Sunday in it. "Well, you have your robe, don't you?"
I can just imagine what was going on in his head: she wasn't planning to robe, she forgot her dress…I wonder if she can preach?!
A quick check of my briefcase when we arrived in Baltimore brought some relief–at least I hadn't forgotten the computer disc with the sermon on it–but, then, alarm! the reading for the Time for All Ages was not in my folder!
It all ended well-enough. The forgotten garment bag gave me a great excuse to buy a new dress (the one in the garment bag is nearly ten years old, after all!). I borrowed some shoes from my sister-in-law. Sarah McGill, our Director of Religious Education here e-mailed me the reading, which she and I had used the previous Sunday (you might remember it–the one that likens people to different kinds of fruits and vegetables). I spent all day Saturday revising the sermon. And after the service was over, Clare and his wife Betty were absolutely elated!
I think I detected an element of relief in their pride.
Not to mention mine! But, that's what often happens when I'm doing too much and not taking time for whatever rejuvenates my spirits and energy. Things go awry.
What happens to you when you're doing too much? Do things tend to go awry? What do you do to rejuvenate your spirits and your energy?
The Hebrew Scriptures advise taking a rest. It's the fourth commandment, to "remember the Sabbath, and keep it holy. " Even God took a rest. As the creation story goes in Genesis, God finished the work of creation on the seventh day and rested. As my friend and colleague, Mary Harrington pointed out, "this suggests that resting is an integral part of work and that without rest our work is not complete."
She goes on, "The text in Genesis also says, 'And God saw that it (the whole of creation) was very good.' This suggests that even God needed to stop, to pause, in order to really see, to have perspective."
Recently, an elder in our congregation expressed a concern to me about the pressured life-styles she has observed among us. She reminded me, "some of us worked hard for the forty-hour work week, but younger people today seem to be forgetting that. Your work should not be your life. Maybe you could preach on that?"
Like many of you, I struggle with how to work well, and also have some sabbath time. How to love and care for myself, my spouse and children, my extended far-flung family, and my friends near and far…how to do my work (which I'm fortunate to love) and in my free time exercise some influence in the world based on my values and vision…and still have a little time to do something fun or spontaneous (or nothing at all)?
In many of the jobs you all have, and in mine, other people's needs are pressing and the good ideas we put on our "To Do" lists are endless. We know that we can't do much good for others and can't be creative in implementing our good ideas, if we have not been good to ourselves. But, nevertheless, often we seek gratification from work accomplishments (paid or volunteer) at the terrible expense of our own spiritual, mental, and physical well-being.
Is your "To Do" list oppressive? Or inspiring? Do you meet other people's needs to the utter depletion of your own resources? Or do you take good care of yourself, too?
As your minister, I try to be available when you are available–in the evenings and on weekends–to attend meetings, teach classes, provide pastoral care, participate in opportunities for fellowship, and–most importantly–lead worship. However, if I don't set some limits, I will never be available to my own family because, of course, they are free from work and school just when you are! So, while I often have ministry commitments three evenings in a week, I am nearly militant about saying no to a fourth. I also almost always take Mondays off (my sabbath). And, I sometimes must decline weekend opportunities to be with you–like work parties, potlucks, and fundraisers–in order to have time to be with my family.
I appreciate that you understand my need for sabbath time and family time, yet I want you to not hesitate, even for a moment, to call upon me in a time of need such as a serious illness, death or crisis in the family.
I also hope you set priorities in your lives that nourish you, that give you sabbath time and family time. Limit your work hours and leave your work at work; don't check your office email from home; watch out for over-time; choose your volunteer work carefully .
Too, I hope that what you do with First Parish is nourishing of your spirit. If it gets to be too much, you might need to set some limits on it. Rest should be part of every First Parish committee's work, so that you can step back and see that it is very good!
Some folks (but not many that I know!) manage to honor a whole day as a Sabbath, obeying the fourth commandment. Robert Fulghum, the Unitarian Universalist minister turned best-selling author, recounts how he observes the Sabbath,
"My wife and I try to live Sundays as if they were a different kind of day…we don't have any obligations; we don’t do any work. Instead, we listen to music, we read, we go for walks. We try to set ourselves aside from our busy lives on this day, allowing ourselves to simply enjoy being alive. We've noticed that having one sane day a week really makes a difference. We don't always manage to observe the Sabbath in this way, but when we do, it is indeed a special day."*
If we can't find a whole day in which to honor the Sabbath, we can find a few Sabbath hours. Author Macrina Wiederkehr hearkens back to a childhood pleasure for some sabbath hours, "I remember, on summer evenings, sitting outside on a quilt with Mama waiting for the stars to come out. Looking back at that moment with my adult eyes, I understand that God is Someone who has taken the time to sit on a quilt with me waiting for beauty. She is a Mother of Presence. I need only invite her into my moments of leisure. Her presence will empower my presence."*
And, if we can't find a few Sabbath hours, we can find a few Sabbath moments. In her book Everyday Sacred, Sue Bender uses the term "little Sabbaths" to describe pauses in her day. She writes, "we all need a certain amount of fallow time. Watching the grass grow, sitting on the hillside, staring out the window daydreaming. When we don't have it, [our] deeper intelligence…won't come forth.
"Mine is a racehorse rhythm," she continues, "and once I get started in the morning, it's difficult for me to stop. Now I can see that a pause–even a very small pause–is extremely useful. These 'little Sabbaths' replenish my body–and spirit."*
In his book Pray All Ways, Edward Hays even proposes napping as a form of prayer! He says it is "an external sacrament of the inner ability to 'let go' of managing every aspect of our lives. It [shows] we are able to allow the Divine Mystery to take over in the midst of troubles and deadlines."*
As for me, I'm terrible at napping! But I do know how to take a walk so that it nourishes my spirit, re-connects me to my inner self and the beauty that is always there somewhere if only I would notice it. I know that a time of meditation each day makes a world of difference. I try to schedule my week so that I have time for some exercise, some meals at home with the family, a night out (or at least a video in) with my spouse, and every few weeks maybe even a visit with a close friend. I try to remember the sabbath and keep it holy–sabbath days, sabbath hours, sabbath moments, sabbath seconds, if nothing else!
You probably expect that your minister will tend to her spiritual life… I do. But, it's a challenge for me, as I imagine it is for you. And I don't always succeed, as that forgotten garment bag does prove! May you do better! Amen.
*quotes from Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life, edited by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat.