I must admit to you a certain, romanticized version of ministry in the 19th century.
There is a certain, heroic quality to the Circuit Riding ministers of the Mid- and Actual West. Riding from town to town by horseback, preaching the Gospel of a God too loving to condemn man, or the Gospel that mankind itself is the power the world needs to address our ills.
Planting churches wherever two roads crossed in a small town.
But then I think about road dust, and no consistent places to rest my head and uncertain sources of my next meal, and I feel less tempted.
But still within in me is the urge to share our liberal faith’s good news of both our own capabilities and responsibilities to make Earth a little bit more like the Heaven we imagine.
A few week’s back, while waiting for others to gather for our semi-traditional meal together before our Board meetings, Dane and I popped into the suit shop. We had a few minutes to kill, and there was a pretty awesome suit in the window, so why not?
They didn’t have that exact suit in my size, but I did try on another three-piece suit. I’ve never had a three piece suit, as they’ve been sort of our fashion for a while, but I think they’re making a come back.
Anyway, while I was trying on the vest part of the suit, Dane said he could see me in the pulpit, wearing the vest, after having taken off my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves, raising a ruckus from the pulpit about a Loving God. Sweating, gesticulating and preaching about our mission in the world: to make it a more just place. If you’ll indulge me, I’ll quote Theodore Parker quickly: “The arc of the universe is long, and it bends toward justice.”
Part of my work as your Interim Minister is to take a good look around the congregation and it’s systems, and to ask a lot of questions. Why do you do this? What is the history behind that? How did this tradition come about? When was this paid serious attention to? Who, at your core, are you?
Church today is in service of the question, who, at your core, are you?
I know that this morning’s service is far from what we’re used to doing, and yet it is part of the fabric, the genetic code of this congregation.
The un-named child from this morning’s story loves all the flowers equally, but still has a favorite. How is that possible? Is it because the child’s sympathy for the flower that needs the most care has tipped their affection, alerted them to their concern?
It takes a gentle reminder from “Mama” that God loves all beings equally and sends a gentle rain on the just and the unjust alike to remind our child that there are no favorites.
How often have you both proclaimed a level playing field of caring, and yet upon further reflection discovered a favorite?
It is probably impossible not to have a favorite in almost anything. We have lots of favorites. Our favorite foods, the flowering bush that never fails to make us smile, our favorite chair here at the church and at home.
We have favorite smells, and favorite colors.
Favorite causes that we support.
My gentle challenge to you this morning, friends, is to spend a little less time with your favorites, and try new things. After all, your favorite flavor of ice cream was once unknown to you.
While we are in this time of church transition, it is an especially good time to try new things here, too. While the congregation works toward making the best match possible with your new, world-class minister, it is a terrific time to try a different committee, or another new way of engaging with the community.
Next week we will be officially welcoming new members into our Fellowship. Lots of new going on.
And so what about the past, what about this “Olde Time Religion”?
It is that, it is our past, and in part it informs both our present and our future. Because we are a liberal faith, open to self-examination, we are not tied to the past as if we were its prisoner, rather, the past is a reference point, a place we have been.
And yes, we, the global we, found comfort there. Or else we wouldn’t have stayed here, where we are. And yes, also, upon reflection and discussion, we have gently moved forward from the past to where we are today.
And the journey does not stop here.
The journey continues on. Someday, 40 years from now, when this congregation is on the eve of celebrating 100 years of Fellowship, someone may discover an order of service from Rev. Jody, Rev. Steve, Rev. Grace, or Rev. Leroy, and say “Well, that’s not how we do it now!” in astonishment and with interest. We cannot predict where we will be in 40 years, just as those folks who founded this church in 1953 could not predict where we are today.
But be it 1953 or 2053, one thing will be constant, our openness to self-examination, our religious practice that beliefs are subject to careful consideration, and that some old practices will be left behind, and new practices embraced.
The arc of the universe IS long, and it does bend toward justice.
And the rain comes to the just and unjust alike.
The question remains, what are we to make of that which have been given.
May we be inspired to use our time and talents in ways that create a more fair, equitable and loving world.
Amen.
© Rev.
Joseph M Cherry
Written for
and delivered to
The
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Stanislaus County
December 2,
2012.
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