First Parish Unitarian UniversalistReflections on Power
A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
February 15, 2004
After our monthly newsletter went to the printer, I realized that my announced sermon title, “Reflections on the War,” was not quite right. On this, the one-year anniversary of the worldwide rallies against a U.S. attack against Iraq, I didn’t want to reflect on the war that began anyway. Rather, what I really wanted to do was reflect on power, the power in numbers, a power in which I have always had faith, and the obvious impotence of the millions that assembled that day. And, so, the title of this sermon is not “Reflecting on War” but rather “Reflecting on Power.”
A year ago today, eleven million people around the world rallied with one clear and single message: “no war in Iraq.” These rallies happened on every continent. Even Antarctica, where fifty-one people arranged their bodies in the shape of a peace symbol. There’s a photo to prove it, with a huge expanse of white all around them and an edge of hills at the horizon. The largest demonstration was Rome, where 2.5 million are said to have assembled. In London, 1.75 million people peacefully gathered. 1 million in Barcelona, Spain. 500,000 in Berlin, 200,000 in Athens, Greece. 5,000 in Istanbul, 10,000 in Johannesburg and in Seoul, South Korea. Fifteen hundred in Tel Aviv. Jakarta, Indonesia; New Delhi, India. Hong Kong. 300 in Iowa City, Iowa.
In New York City, five hundred thousand filled the streets in the frigid cold. I was one of them. Some of you were there, too. Many of you were there in spirit. And, some of you, as is fitting in a Unitarian Universalist congregation, likely disagreed with what those rallies stood for and supported the Bush Administration’s intent to invade Iraq and unseat Saddam Hussein.
But, for me, I was there, heart, soul, mind and chilled-to-the-bone body on February 15, 2003. In the preceding eight months, I’d made more phone calls, sent more letters, and shot off more emails to my elected representatives in Washington DC than I’d had in the preceding 8, maybe even 18, years. This war plan, this pre-emptive strike policy, filled me with a deep dread, and I was sure that it was wrong. I felt called upon to do every non-violent thing I could to exercise my individual rights and responsibilities as a citizen, to express my views to my elected representatives and ask for their support against that war.
I was there, heart, soul, mind and chilled-to-the-bone body one year ago today. It hadn’t been much of a sacrifice to get there. I’d been in New York City, actually Brooklyn, anyway that week, helping out with my newborn twin nieces. They had touched me deeply. Their original perfection! How, I pondered at the end of each day, how could the church fathers ever have dreamed, never mind convinced the parents of newborns, that children are born with original sin? These two little wonders, my nieces, with all their angst in their unhappy moments, were so hope-inspiring. They centered me, with their need for love and the simplicity of their other needs. And I was reminded once again that there is nothing so peaceful as one’s own finally-sleeping baby!
I headed off to the rally with that love and hope in my heart, and peace, theirs and the world’s, my fervent prayer. What legacy was my generation leaving for my nieces? Was there hope for peace in their life-times?
I was there, heart, soul, mind and chilled-to-the-bone body one year ago today. Every kind of person was there. Really. It was much more diverse than any of the many demonstrations I’ve ever attended. Not as many babies and toddlers, appropriately so, due to the cold. But, really, it seemed everyone else was there. It was tempting to speculate who they were, what they did for a living, where they lived. Some, I knew, were janitors, identified by the SEIU union logo on their purple knit caps. Others carried banners which told who they were: Brown University Students Against the War, Educators for Peace, Social Workers for Peace. I saw many religious groups, even a good delegation from Arlington Street UU Church in Boston, and a very large one from All Soul’s UU in NYC, where our guest preacher last week is a minister.
People older than I, younger than I, darker than I, lighter than I. I was perhaps most surprised to see well-off looking white Manhattanites wearing stately camel hair coats and totally inadequate for the cold expensive-looking shoes. But, they were there, too!
Everyone was there! Singing, drumming, shivering, standing in silence, chanting, cheering, listening to speeches. I cheered. I was inspired. I felt empowered. I felt such incredible kinship with the people around me. When they announced how many rallies with how many people were gathering around the country and around the world, I felt a thrill of solidarity. The people, united, will never be defeated!
Not much more than one month later, in the pre-dawn hours of March 20 th, the United States targeted Baghdad with bombs and missiles. Later that morning, in a televised address, President Bush announced, “American and coalition forces are in the early stages of military operations to disarm Iraq, to free its people, and to defend the world from grave danger.” (CNN.com, March 20, 2003).
And, here we are today. We know now that the Bush administration planned to attack Iraq long before September 11 th, and we know now that its arguments for war were rife with error and deceit. We know now that Hussein would, indeed, be captured, and without a fight, but that no signs of weapons of mass destruction would be found. We know now that the massive reconstruction effort would be a boon for the corporate friends of Cheney and Bush.
The war, supposedly is over, but our troops are still there, including the son of our own Office Administrator here at First Parish. Indeed, soldiers, police and civilians alike are still dying, and suicide bombings are on the increase. Although I opposed this war, I am not in favor of bringing the troops home now—I believe we owe it to the Iraqi people to help them rebuild and stabilize before we leave.
One year ago today, eleven million people around the word mobilized to declare, “No war against Iraq.” So much for the power of the people. So much for my inspiration, my sense of empowerment, my sense of solidarity.
It’s easy to be discouraged. A year later, the clippings on my refrigerator, front page full cover photos of the rally in New York City, are looking frayed, and I don’t feel the swell of idealism I used to feel when the clippings caught my eye as I unloaded groceries or put away the milk. It’s easy to feel discouraged.
But, let’s not allow ourselves to be discouraged. Let’s take heart, instead. It was the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who said more than once, “The arc of the moral universe bends toward justice,” quoting the 19 th century Unitarian minister and abolitionist Theodore Parker of Boston. The arc of the moral universe bends toward justice: we just have to take the long view! Let us believe that every small and every large act of hope bends history that much closer to peace and justice for all.
Indeed, in this past week, here in Massachusetts, we’ve seen a major bending toward justice, justice for gay and lesbian couples! This past week, we were on a roller-coaster of hope and dismay as the Massachusetts legislature met in constitutional convention to consider an amendment to the state constitution that would ban gay marriages. On Wednesday and again on Thursday, as amendments to the amendment were offered, argued up and argued down, and voted up or down—but ultimately, when the votes were counted, down—the long arc of history seemed to shorten to the day, even to the hour. It was intense.
Some of us were made terribly anxious by the suspense, and others thrilled with the opportunity to be part of the democratic process. Anyone who was paying attention at all had to have been learning a lot—about the legal protections offered by marriage that the married among us perhaps heretofore took for granted; about the symbolic importance of words and the difference between civil marriage and civil union; about motions, filibusters and closed-door negotiations; about the people we elected, about each other and perhaps most of all about ourselves.
In regard to gay marriage, the long arc of history is currently laboring hard, very hard, to bend toward justice. This episode in American history, this historic episode, is not over yet, but think about it: not one of those anti-gay amendments passed!
And, think of how far we’ve come in acceptance of homosexuality in American culture. In my life-time, in the last fifty years, incredible progress was made. I see it in myself. Why, I remember, back in junior high, removing the “fairy loops” on the back of my button-down collared shirts lest they be torn off by someone screaming the ugly epithet “fairy!” as they raced down the hall! And here I am today standing up, along with many of you, for civil marriage as a civil right, and performing services of union for gay couples as your minister.
I see progress in myself, and in you. I see it in my children, your children. I didn’t even know that my seventeen year old son was following the fate of Goodridge vs. the Department of Public Health, but on the day the Supreme Judicial Court issued its ruling that it is unconstitutional to deny gay couples the right to marry, as soon as I arrived home from work that evening, he turned to me with excitement in his voice, “Mom, have you heard the news?!!”
It’s as the Globe columnist and co-editor of the American Prospect news magazine Bob Kuttner wrote last November after the SJC ruling, “Younger people, who've grown up thinking of gays as people, are more accepting of full rights.” ( Boston Globe, 11/26/03).
Our UU kids are growing up thinking gays and lesbians are people. To them, gay marriage is a no-brainer: “well, duh!”
I am sure they will carry this progress into the future unafraid, and there is even research to support my confidence. Laurent Parks Daloz, author of Common Fire: Leading Lives of Commitment in a Complex World, surveyed more than 100 people who work for the common good, often in the face of complex and daunting circumstances. He sought to learn what kinds of experiences increased the probability that a person would live a life of commitment to a larger whole, and the factors that fostered a greater generosity of spirit in society.
Daloz found that several factors appear significant in the early decades of a [publicly committed] person’s life. Not all appear in every life, and no single [factor] is determinative. Nevertheless, see what you think: how many of these factors are likely to be true of the children and youth here at First Parish:
- The experience of being "seen" as a child
- Having at least one publicly active parent
- Growing up in a home that is hospitable to the wider world
- Living in a safe yet diverse neighborhood
- Actively participating in a religious life
- Having contact with adults in the community who model commitment
- Participating in youth groups
- Having mentors
(Quoted in Creating Congregations of Generous People by Michael Durall, p. 23 from Can Generosity Be Taught? Essays on Philanthropy, No. 29 (Indianapolis: Indiana University, 1988), 6.
We here at First Parish are insuring the future bending of that long arc toward justice! We provide a religious home for children and youth, where they are seen and heard. We encourage their parents to be publicly active. Adults here serve as models of commitment and mentors for our young people. We offer a high school youth group, through which they develop leadership skills and moral commitments. If there was ever a good reason for you to teach a Religious Education class here, help out with field trips and child care, volunteer with the youth group, or get to know one particular child, isn’t this it? That they take up our banner of justice and carry it on?!!
They, and we, must be smart about how we carry that banner. For example, while this present opportunity to secure the right of marriage for gay and lesbian couples is before us in Massachusetts, we must be organized and vigilant during the next few weeks in communicating our views to our elected representatives, so that justice prevails.
However, at the national level, we must not let the Bush administration use the issue of gay marriage to divert all our attention from their flawed foreign policy that got us into Iraq and isolated us from our allies, or from their strategy for the U.S. economy that benefits an increasingly wealthy tiny minority of Americans even as the gap widens between rich and poor world-wide.
So, we must be smart and organized on social policy as well as on foreign and economic policy. We must expect a lot of ourselves. 2004 is going to be a busy year! How can we do what will be required of us if the long arc of the universe is to bend toward justice this year?
My friend Marshall, son of a rabbi, husband of my friend Susan who recently died, looks to the story of David and Goliath in the Hebrew Scriptures (1 Samuel 17: Verses 4-49) for the courage to act. Do you remember how the story goes? Here’s how Marshall re-tells it, with a little help from me:
“When Goliath, veteran warrior, victor of many battles, arrayed in full battle gear, challenges the Israelites, their leaders cower in fear. But young David, who is there on the battlefield mainly to attend to the needs of his older brothers, steps forward.
Why does he step forward? Is it because he has figured out a plan to defeat Goliath? Is it because he did a feasibility study to see if it was “practical” for him to take on this giant? Is it because he hired a consultant to advise him, or took a poll?
Is it because he had tons of free time? Is it because he’s not needed at home?
No. It begins when the Lord gives David courage. It begins when he decides he must act. It begins with his commitment to what must be done, not its practicality, not its popularity, and not because he knows exactly what to do.
And what happens next? He tells King Saul. And what does the king say? The king tells him he’s not qualified, he’s too young, he doesn’t have the experience, he hasn’t earned the right degrees.
But David insists. Look around you, he says. No one else will fight. So why not me? Finally the king is persuaded, but on one condition. Be careful, says the king, you are but a youth, and Goliath has been a warrior since his youth, a long time. So, take my sword, take my shield, and take my helmet. These will protect you.
Convinced, David agrees. To fight the powerful, after all, one must use the tools of the powerful.
But, then what happens?
On the way into battle, David almost trips over some stones, five smooth stones, that he finds in a dry streambed. The stones get him thinking.
Wait, he thinks, I’m a shepherd, not a warrior. The armor doesn’t fit. The sword is too heavy. The helmet is stifling. I’m not used to them. I don’t know how to use these, he says.
But, he recalls, as a shepherd I know how to protect my flock from the wolf, the bear, and the lion. And it’s not with a sword or a shield, but it with stones like these. Mmm… maybe Goliath is just another bear.
At that, he takes off his sword, shield and helmet. Picks up the stones, puts them in his shepherd’s pouch, and goes off to face Goliath. Goliath, arrogant in his experience, strength and pride, sees no problem in this young shepherd. He laughs.
David takes out a stone, he slings it, and of course the rest is Biblical history.
One’s power begins not with the greatness of one’s resources, the probability of one’s success, but with the depth of one’s commitment. No strategic plan for David. Instead, the recognition that he had to act. That’s where it all begins.
Not the king’s resources for David, but his own. Our own resources, our own skills—this is where we must look for power.
American patriots once found power in tea. Gandhi found power in salt; the American civil rights struggle in sit-downs, bus boycotts and marches in defiance of local authorities. Chavez’s farm workers found power in grapes. The Viet Nam era peace movement in draft defiance and demonstrations. The struggle for rights for gays and lesbians in a lawsuit demanding a marriage license, and in organizing voters for effective lobbying.
Where will the 21 st century world-wide anti war movement find power? So far, it has found power in the Internet, through which eleven million people around the world rallied a year ago today. But, it’s not over yet!
David trusted his imagination….A shepherd among soldiers, he trusted his experience, he saw resources none could see, and seized opportunities none could seize but he. (adapted from “Some Reflections on Faith and Politics” by Marshall Ganz, 2/17/03)
A week ago Thursday, as I walked across the Public Garden after attending the annual prayer breakfast and legislative update of the Religious Coalition for the Right to Marry, a member of which I have been for five years, I passed by the statue of Edward Everett Hale. A Unitarian minister in Boston and then chaplain of the United States Senate, he lived from 1822-1909 and was devoted to the cause of international peace. There Hale stands near the entrance to the Public Garden and his words are familiar to us,
I am only one
But still I am one.
I cannot do everything,
But still I can do something.
And because I cannot do everything
I will not refuse to do the something I can do. (Singing the Living Tradition, #457)
Help us to learn to be David. Faithful enough to trust our own spirit where others do not trust theirs, wise enough to draw on our own experience to see what others do not see, courageous enough to act on what we do see…
And, committed enough to do the something we can do.
Amen. So may it be.