Rainbow chalice Sketch of First Parish UUFirst Parish Unitarian Universalist
Canton, Massachusetts



It’s Not About Tents

A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
March 2, 2003—Canvass Kick-off Sunday

You’ve heard the joke about the British Unitarian minister, who did a six month sabbatical pulpit exchange with an American UU minister?

He’s reviewing the agenda for an upcoming Parish Committee meeting and notes that discussion item #3 is Canvass. Puzzled, he calls the President and asks, “What’s this about canvass? Are you looking to make a tent?” !

Now, the canvas that tents are made of has only one “s” and the canvass that we launch today has two. I don’t know if the agenda had a misspelling or if he didn’t notice the extra “s”. It doesn’t matter…

Actually, it’s a true story. It happened at First Parish in Wayland some years ago, more or less as I described, when the two ministers and their young families swapped houses for six months.

No doubt, his Unitarian church in Great Britain doesn’t’ call its annual pledge drive a “canvass.” But, we do. Ours starts today, as you heard from Finance Committee Chair, David, a few moments ago. But, it’s not about tents!

Or is it? The ancient Hebrews had a gathering place they called the “tent of meeting.” In the Hebrew Bible, book of Exodus (same book in which we found the Ten Commandments this morning) but a later verse, we read,

Now Moses used to take the tent of meeting and pitch it outside the camp. Everyone who sought the Lord would go out to the tent of meeting. Whenever Moses went out to it, all the people would rise and stand, each of them, at the entrance of their tents and watch Moses until he had gone into the tent [of meeting]. When Moses entered the tent, the pillar of cloud [that would be the Lord] would descend and stand at the entrance of the tent, and the Lord would speak with Moses. When all the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance of the tent, they would rise and bow down, all of them, at the entrance of their tent. Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then he would return to the camp…( Ex 33: 7-12)

So, here we are in our tent of meeting. Haven’t we all come here to seek the one who by whatsoever name we worship?! Did you see the pillar of cloud appear after I got here this morning?!! Just kidding!

Our canvass is about raising money to keep our tent of meeting in good shape next year, but the people of Moses made their tents out of animal skins, not canvass.

So, if it’s not about tents, what is a canvass about?

It’s not about the budget.

I mean, it is, of course, about the budget. In order to plan the expenses for next year, we need to know what our income is likely to be. The largest single portion of it comes from our pledges. So, by asking each of us to make a pledge as to what we will contribute, the Finance Committee can project how much First Parish can spend on salaries, supplies and equipment, repairs, capitol improvements, social action, committee programming, and so on. In June, with income and expenses in mind, they will propose a budget for adoption by the members at the Annual Meeting.

But, it’s not about the budget. Budgets don’t inspire generous giving. So, if we are going to have a successful canvass, it better not be about the budget.

If it’s not really about the budget, what is a canvass about?

It’s not about what we each can afford.

I mean, it is, of course about what we each can afford. We can’t give what we don’t have. A few of us are unemployed right now and others have good reason to fear they will be laid off soon. Others have chosen to have less income in order to have more time with their children, are struggling single parents, live on Social Security alone, or just plain don’t make much money.

So, you see, some of us are living on the edge financially, with no or very little discretionary income. For all of these people, the canvass is very much about what they can afford. The canvass may even feel like an imposition, a forced reckoning of how little money they have, compared to others here. To you, for that, I do apologize, and do hereby recognize that your commitments to First Parish in time, talents and energy are very much appreciated, more even than the “widow’s mite.”

Do you remember that story Jesus told? The “mite,” spelled M-I-T-E not M-I-G-H-T, was a small coin in Biblical times worth very little. The wealthy were lining up, putting money into the temple collection, when Jesus saw a poor woman put in only two small copper coins.

“Truly, I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for [they] have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.” (Luke 21:1-4).

I certainly don’t recommend pledging to First Parish all you have to live on to anyone who is on the edge financially—that’s where the rest of us come in. Those who do have discretionary income should fill in for those who must give less. I thank the small but growing number of pledgers who already do so.

So, for most of us, the decision about how much to pledge to First Parish this year is not really about what we can afford, because we have more discretionary income than we truly need, if we are honest. We could look to spend less on travel and recreations, home decorations and renovations, dining out and other non-essentials, in order to contribute more to First Parish, and even then we’d likely be giving only 2-3% of our income, well below the 10% tithe that many in the religious right give to their churches.

If, for most of us, the canvass is not about what we can afford, what is it about?

It’s not about what we get at First Parish, is it? How crass!

But, then again, it is about what you get here, and that’s not crass at all. What you give ought to have some correlation to what you get, even just so that we don’t slip on quality. So, the canvass is about what being here does for you and any offspring you may have. You come to First Parish voluntarily-- after all, this is a free faith. So, if you and yours were not benefiting, you would not be here on Sundays. And if you were not ever here on Sundays, there would be no reason to make a generous pledge, now would there?

On the contrary, I made a pastoral call not long ago to a longtime pledger who hasn’t attended services in many years. “Not since,” as he said, “they had that minister there who used to be Jewish who was encouraging Jews and blacks to attend. I’m liberal, but not that liberal. And now you want to welcome gays and lesbians too? Well, my cousin was gay, and we didn’t care, but we didn’t feel a need to make a big deal of it, either.”

I didn’t ask why he still contributes. It was clear he still feels loyal, if only to his family’s religious history, and I didn’t want to suggest he stop giving. But perhaps he does it so I’ll bury him when he dies.

I hope you “get” more here than the promise of a good memorial service when you die!

I hope that the quality of your experience here motivates you to give generously. I hope that you get, here at First Parish, a warm sense of community with people who share your vision of a more just and peaceful world.

I hope that you “get” deep and inspiring worship, fun social events, like-minded friends, the chance to help those in need (like by serving supper to the homeless), meaningful religious education for all ages, instigation to take action on your principles, and ample opportunity to share your talents and skills, or learn new ones, as you serve First Parish on a project or committee.

I hope you “get” a nice snack at Coffee Hour, Covenant Groups and Meditation for World Peace, drumming, the chance to wield a hammer or paint brush or rake, Sermon Circles and potlucks, Christmas caroling, choir--whatever you make time to do among all the things that we do here.

I hope you “get” a lot. And, I hope that what you get here is part—but only part—of what motivates your pledging decision.

So. If it’s not at all about tents, not really about the budget nor about what you can afford, and only in part about what you get here, what IS the canvass about?

I think it’s about our hopes: our hopes for ourselves and our families, for this faith community, and for this presently troubled and troubling world.

My pledge, your pledge, our pledges represent our hopes for what we, as individuals and as a congregation, will be and do because of the values and visions nurtured here.

Do you hope to grow in spirit? Where else in your life are you encouraged to grow in spirit? To do the inner work only you know you need to do? To deepen your values and broaden your vision?

Do you hope for meaningful relationships? Where else in your life are your relational needs, for mutual give and take with others, nurtured in such healthy ways?

Do you hope for wisdom? Where else are you challenged to grow in your understanding of human differences and commonalities, and of the interconnected web that is our natural world?

Do you hope for a better world? Where else do you find encouragement for the living out of your principles in your everyday life—in your home, work, volunteer roles, extended family, neighborhood, country and world? And maybe more importantly, where else do you find comrades, since no one can do it alone?

Do you hope for hope itself? Where else in your life can you come, week after week, for a respite from the cares of the world and a renewal of the hope we all need in these troubling times?

Where else in your life, but in this faith community of ours, do we hope all of these kinds of hopes together?

The canvass is not at all about tents, not really about the budget nor about what you can afford, and only in part about what you “get” here. What it’s really about are your highest and deepest hopes. Your highest and deepest hopes!

So may it be. Amen.

Return to list of sermons