First Parish Unitarian UniversalistWings Set Us Free
A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
March 17, 2002
Two weeks ago, we kicked off our annual pledge drive, otherwise known as the Canvass. Since then, most of you (unless you are brand new to First Parish) have received a brochure with a pledge card, as well as a fine letter from Kitty McGregor, the immediate Past President of First Parish, encouraging a generous spirit as you decide what to pledge for our budget year that starts July 1st. Last Sunday, Steven Dexter and Kathy Anderson spoke about why they pledge.
And, today, as you've heard, there is a box in the Parish Hall in which you may put your signed pledge card if you haven't already mailed it in, and a free brunch (with no speeches) to which all are invited to attend, whether or not you've turned in a pledge card, also in the Parish Hall. The Canvass is, after today, over, except that those who have not mailed or turned in their pledge card will be called upon by a canvasser in the near future.
Our minister in Wayland, Ken Sawyer, tells a canvass story dating back to the year that he and a British colleague swapped pulpits for six months. The six months included March, which is canvass time for First Parish in Wayland, as it is for us here in Canton. Andrew Hill, the visiting British minister, could not for the life of him understand why there was all this talk about tents! Made of canvas (with one s), you see. Or, was it oil paintings? On canvas (also with one s), you see.
But we know why there's all this talk about the canvass, with two s's. We have Brian, this year's canvass chair, to thank for the fact that we do know what a canvass is-that we want First Parish to be healthy, so we all give all we can, and that by forecasting how much we will give, we enable the finance folks to tally up an Income figure and plan next year's budget accordingly.
I say "we" because my household makes a pledge also, as First Parish in Canton is my spiritual home (and my husband's, though more often than not, he's home with our son who makes his spiritual home in the Youth Group at the UU parish nearest where we live, which we also support with a pledge). I like to think that we, and hopefully you, give all we can, not just what we think we can afford or the amount that correlates with what we feel we each "get" from our respective spiritual homes, but a pledge that truly reflects our deepening roots here and the wings we grow here that set us free to be all we can be.
In our Sunday services, we often sing "Spirit of Life" for our Meditation Song, as we did two weeks ago and again today, ending with the lines "Roots hold me close. wings set me free; Spirit of Life, come to me, come to me."
Roots and wings. colleague Ken Sawyer notes wryly that for UU's of a literal mind, this imagery of roots and wings is hard to accept. He says, "the picture of a person simultaneously held close by roots and lofting free in winged flight is, well, odd. It sounds painful." (sermon, 11/29/98)
Nevertheless, two weeks ago I explored the notion "roots that hold us close," so close we are inspired to give all we can. Today I thought we'd consider the "wings that set us free" so free we can be all we can be and even maybe change the world..
Two weeks ago, I spoke of our longing for a place to belong, in which we can sink our roots. First Parish is such a place. Our roots grow both horizontally and vertically here; they grow out and they grow down.
They grow out, I said, in direct relation to the membership, emotional, and spiritual growth of the congregation. The healthier the community, the more freely our roots spread out, connecting us in life-enriching ways with each other and with our inner selves, with who we are becoming.
They grow down, I said, because there is depth of meaning and of history in this place. Unitarian Universalism is not some kind of twenty-first, or even twentieth century, fad. We trace our history to the 18th and 19th century Unitarians and Universalists, past them to the Protestant reformation during which period our forebears were persecuted, and earlier still to the early dissidents in the Roman church. Our origins are in the Judeo-Christian heritage, rich in story and myth, ethics and morals.
But, I pointed out, as Unitarian Universalists, we need not accept the creeds and hierarchies with which past religious leaders burdened that rich heritage, nor are we limited by or to those origins in any way.
Indeed, our first reference point is the truth as each of us knows it, from our own personal and "direct experience with that transcending mystery and wonder.which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which uphold and create life" [as we say in the Sources from which we draw].
Whether you give that the name "God". or call it "the spirit of life" or "the transforming power of love" or "intuition". or know it deep in your heart and mind or soul even though you do not or cannot name it. I believe that it is in our own individual, and then collective, experience of it that our roots are held close. As UU's, we experience it ourselves, not through a priest, "up close and personal" as they say, in our innermost being. It is the still small voice, an inner imperative that directs our actions. It is imminent.
And, it is "wings that set us free," as we sing. In others words, the spirit of life or what some might call "God" transcends our individual experience; it is a transcending mystery and wonder. It is not only imminent. We also experience it in each other, in other living things, and in all that is in the universe even in the blowing of the wind and the rising of the sea. It is transcendent.
I believe, as I surmise some of you do, that being connected with each other and with all living and non-living things in the universe suggests that these wings set us free for something more than being awash in mystery and wonder.Though feeling good is wonderful, and useful, and-hey who would pass it up?!
Yes, wings set us free for something more than feeling good and that, I believe, is the primary message of the song-writer, Carolyn McDade, who for some years worshipped at Arlington Street Church (where our own Liz Cole Sheehan in her youth knew her) and the Community Church of Boston, both Unitarian Universalist congregations.
For you see, McDade composed "Spirit of Life" as a prayer, but not as a sentimental, wishful-thinking kind of prayer. It was composed to provide hope and inspiration for folks working for a better world. In it, the singer yearns to be filled, to be renewed, with the spirit of life that blows in the wind and rises in the sea. The singer invokes "the stirrings of compassion" and proclaims "the shape of justice."
It sings a humble prayer, for it expresses an emptiness any of us may feel from time to time, and a weariness experienced by those who toil for justice in the world.
It sings a prayer of strength, too. For it says, filled with a life-spirit, with roots to hold us close and wings to set us free, the stirrings of compassion will sing in our hearts and our hands will give life the shape of justice.
But, sometimes I fear that we've sung "Spirit of Life" so many times, we've memorized the words, and sing it mindlessly.
Sometimes I fear that we're so mesmerized by the mystical, almost dreamy, quality of the music. that the singing of "Spirit of Life" lulls us into some kind of spiritual self-satisfaction rather than renewing us for the hard work of compassion and justice in our lives, in the world.
Carolyn McDade wrote "Spirit of Life" to be a prayer for the struggle, not a song for snuggling up in a feel-good blanket of prayer and meditation.
Whether our struggle is to simply do the right thing in our closest circles of family, friends, neighbors and co-workers. or whether we have a sense of the prophetic calling us to champion larger ideals of local and global peace, democracy, economic justice, inter-racial and inter-religious understanding, an end to homophobia, environmental protection.
whatever the struggle .I do believe that "Spirit of Life" was meant, not to lull us into a Sunday morning snuggle, but to renew our engagement in efforts that take us outside our own selfish concerns for the betterment of others. To sing in our hearts all the stirrings of compassion and move in our hands, giving life the shape of justice. To renew our individual and collective engagement with compassion and justice.
In these times, I sense a rising urgency for just such engagement. But, I have to be honest and say that I don't know where to engage. I feel called to be a prophetic voice, to be a public witness for our faith, for compassion and justice. But, I don't know where to engage. Do you?
It seems that every way I turn, on each page of the newspaper, there is a cause in need of leadership and foot soldiers.
There's election finance reform, adequate funding for high quality nursing homes, classroom teachers not knowing how to affirm the children of lesbian and gay parents, the distribution of racist literature in our neighborhoods, the impending state and federal campaigns to outlaw gay marriage.
And, there's seventeen year old Canton boys having sex with-allegedly raping-fifteen year old girls and priests doing it with boys, global warming and other environmental issues, American aid to Israel funding the weapons of Palestinian destruction, the new racial segregation-separate and unequal, urban vs. suburban-in public schools in every region of the country it seems.
And, there's the unsafe and unjust working conditions of migrant workers in Fresno, California described to me in detail last week by my UU clergy colleague there, over-use of antibiotics with children and with chickens, and NAFTA provisions that allow a corporation to sue a government if its policies can be shown to diminish the profits of the corporation, as shown in Bill Moyer's recent expose, "Trading Democracy."
Oh, yes, then there's the un-happy fact that, due to Speaker of the House Finneran's re-districting plan, I am now represented by one of his do-bees whose values I abhor so what about working on the campaign of a more progressive opponent to unseat him? Those of you in Norwood have a similar challenge regarding John Rogers, author of the bill to ban gay marriages.
And, there's drug policy reform, universal health care, and President Bush's dangerous intent to re-build the American nuclear arsenal.
I've only named a few concerns. I'm sure you could list your own, and they well might be different than mine, which is fine, or in opposition to mine, which is also to be expected among UU's.
Who has the time or energy for more than one cause? How to choose?!
"Spirit of life, come to us. Because we need it! The stirrings of compassion don't linger long and we can hardly imagine what shape justice might have! Our roots are yet too shallow for the tasks at hand and our wings are faltering. Spirit of life, come to us. We need it!"
I'm reminded of a South African song in our hymnbook. (I hope someday Allan Friedman will teach it to us). The words, translated, are as follows-and remember the daunting struggle in which blacks there were engaged in the 1980's when it was sung-"O God give us power, to rip down prisons. O God, give us power to lift the people. O God, give us courage to withstand hatred. O God, give us courage not to be bitter. O God, give us power and make us fear-less. O God, give us power because we need it."
O, spirit of life, come to us. Because we need it!
Down in Alabama last week, on Thursday I toured the powerful Birmingham Civil Rights Institute museum with a few colleagues, among them the Reverend Istvan Kovacs, president of the Unitarian Minister's Association in Transylvania where there are 70,000 Unitarians. Transylvania is a very poor part of impoverished Romania, long under Communist rule. Most of our religious counterparts there lack electricity, indoor plumbing and running water. For at least a decade now, there has been an effort to partner American Unitarian Universalist congregations with Transylvanian Unitarian churches, in large part to give financial support, though the gains in international understanding have been huge on both sides also.
Anyway, getting on with the story, I met Istvan again in the hotel hallway on Saturday after one of our American colleagues made some rather strident remarks about the validity of the Al Queda message regarding American greed and that while we are busy going after the messenger, Osama Bin Laden, we ought not to forget the message and do something about the over-consumption of the world's resources by Americans.
Istvan wanted to know what I thought of that speech. I said that I thought it was tacky and tasteless in the context, but that I agreed with the views expressed. But, I said, the trouble is that reducing American consumption of the world's resources would require significant reduction in the standard of living of many Americans, including me, and this would be difficult!
It then dawned on me that Istvan's standard of living could only go up. Sure enough, he was quick with a response. "You know," he said, "it would take four Earths to support everyone living the life-style you people enjoy."
"Spirit of life, come to us. Because we are in need! The stirrings of compassion don't linger long and we can hardly imagine what shape justice might have! Our roots are yet too shallow for the tasks at hand and our wings are faltering. Spirit of life, come to us. We are in need!"
We can only hope that the spirit of life will come to us, and hold us, and that we will listen for a still small voice, an inner imperative, to direct our actions.
We can only hope that the spirit of life will come to us in transcending mystery and wonder, giving us wings to fly free to be all we are called to be.
Let us now dwell together in the shared silence of this holy place, and listen for a still small voice in the quiet of this hour. [Pause-Five Minutes]
May we make the time and have the patience to listen for our inner imperative, and the courage to act upon it.
Filled with a life-spirit, with roots to hold us close and wings to set us free, the stirrings of compassion will sing in our hearts and our hands will give life the shape of justice. So may it be. Amen.