Sunday, May 18, 2014

Critique in the Service of Democracy.

Reading from the Global Scripture

Young Minds in Critical Condition, The Stone a New York Times Opinion Feature, Michael S. Roth, President of Wesleyan University [1]

It happens every semester. A student triumphantly points out that Jean-Jacques Rousseau is undermining himself when he claims “the man who reflects is a depraved animal,” or that Ralph Waldo Emerson’s call for self-reliance is in effect a call for reliance on Emerson himself. Trying not to sound too weary, I ask the student to imagine that the authors had already considered these issues.

Instead of trying to find mistakes in the texts, I suggest we take the point of view that our authors created these apparent “contradictions” in order to get readers like us to ponder more interesting questions. How do we think about inequality and learning, for example, or how can we stand on our own feet while being open to inspiration from the world around us? Yes, there’s a certain satisfaction in being critical of our authors, but isn’t it more interesting to put ourselves in a frame of mind to find inspiration in them?

Our best college students are very good at being critical. In fact being smart, for many, means being critical. Having strong critical skills shows that you will not be easily fooled. It is a sign of sophistication, especially when coupled with an acknowledgment of one’s own “privilege.”

The combination of resistance to influence and deflection of responsibility by confessing to one’s advantages is a sure sign of one’s ability to negotiate the politics of learning on campus. But this ability will not take you very far beyond the university. Taking things apart, or taking people down, can provide the satisfactions of cynicism. But this is thin gruel.


Sermon

In this morning’s Reading from the Global Scripture, Dr. Roth describes some of the problems of current trends in American higher education, and by extension, those of us who were trained in it.

This sort of clever, critique as pithy weapon is not limited to those who have advanced degrees or age. Bart Simpson, the eternal 10 year old, has a small arsenal of phrases used to dismiss those things that he finds challenging or confusing. These phrases, such as “Don’t have a cow, man” and others helped to make Bart the break-out character of the Simpsons when the show debuted in 1989.

Though few people that Michael Roth has in his classes quote Bart Simpson with any regularity, indeed most of them were born AFTER the debut of the cartoon show, there is a similar, easy dismissal shared between cartoon character, 10-year old Bart and many adults.

It seems that few have the time and patience to really delve into a problem. If a question brings up uncomfortable triggers in oneself, the more helpful way to respond is “why does this make me feel this way?” not “iAy carumba!”

Thoughtful engagement, the very thing that Roth is encouraging, is in fact the way to change ourselves and the world around us.

I would go so far as to suggest that the very divisive politics we have in this country right now are due in part to those who critique and see critique as their primary or sole contribution to the conversation.


Often you hear these words from me, or some variant thereof: We are a liberal faith, not necessarily aligned with liberal politics. To be a liberal faith by definition is to be open to self-reflective examination.

How this plays out, hopefully, in our spiritual lives is that we are open to and willing to engage in the hard work of examining why believe what we believe and if we’re really working hard, we ask ourselves if what we’ve believed before is still serving us well.

Imagine with me that you’re holding a large bunch of helium filled balloons. Not so many as to make you fly away though.

We don’t want people worrying about being carried off this morning…

Each of the balloons represents an idea in your life. Take a pin, and pop the one that said you were going to be a ballerina. Now pop the one that said you were going to be a firefighter. Now pop the one that said you would find true love at 18 and be with that person forever. One by one the ideas and ideals that you had when you were younger, many of them get popped by your own looking at your life.

If you don’t bring new ideas into your bouquet of balloons, soon you’ll have nothing left but a bunch of strings, nothing to boost your spirits, nothing, to literally, give you a lift in your life.

This is sort of what this rabid criticism that Dr. Roth writes about does.

Critique is a powerful and useful tool, but if it used alone, it creates nothing, and leaves nothing but cynical people and a drab world.

Critique alone is not a useful tool for navigating life.

Critique must have a companion, and that companion is creativity.

Now Creativity alone, left unbridled by critique, would leave us uninspired, unchallenged, and would likely lead to a life of artistry that lacks development.

If the first time I honked into a clarinet, everyone told me I was a virtuoso, why would I have been inspired to practice and develop until I became a pretty good clarinet player? If critique didn’t exist in the world at all, there would be no mechanism by which I would have been inspired to grow.

Alternately though, if all I ever heard was “You stink at that,” why, also, would I have been inspired to grow?


I worry that critique, without the balancing companion of creativity, has become our cultural default. The world is full of arm-chair quarterbacks and arm-chair politicians. Each of them are equally effective at changing the world in a manner that would be more to their goals.

This is also a common church problem. Not just here at the Fellowship, but also in churches across many denominations and national boundaries.

I’m all about the mixed metaphors today.

I’m going to use a sport analogy right now, and I wanted to warn you in advance. This may be the only sports metaphor I ever use from the pulpit, so I don’t want to shock you too much.


In football, when a player does something they shouldn’t… yes they, women play football, too… the referee, the person in the stripped shirt, can do something called “Throwing a flag.” When a flag is thrown, the game stops, because someone is about to get a penalty.

The referees never tell the players what they might do next time to avoid the flag. They never pull them aside and say “So next time, you don’t cross that line before the ball is snapped up, because that’s against the rules, next time you should wait until the ball is snapped, and I won’t have to penalize your team 10 yards.”

Nope, they just throw the flag, blow the whistle and everything comes to a screeching halt.

We are not a football game, and yet people engage in this behavior. They throw the equivalent of a flag, and never offer any helpful advice. The whistle blows, progress is stopped and nothing is learned.


Sometimes this happens in a church, too.

People have a lot of flags to throw around during a church service. For some, it’s the use of certain words, like prayer. For some it’s a lack of a word like prayer.

But what would happen if, instead of throwing a flag up on the play that uses, or doesn’t use, the word prayer, we sat and talked about what that word brings up for us.

And then sat together and worked out how we might be able to find a way to have most of our needs met around hot topics like “a language of reverence.”


As Roth wrote, in school, a critical mind is what is most valued. It demonstrates something that school values, that you’re paying attention to what you see, and while Roth doesn’t say this, I think part of what critique is supposed to teach you is that your mind and opinion have value.

But Roth also says

The skill at unmasking error, or simple intellectual one-upmanship, is not totally without value, but we should be wary of creating a class of self-satisfied debunkers — or, to use a currently fashionable word on campus, people who like to “trouble” ideas. In overdeveloping the capacity to show how texts, institutions or people fail to accomplish what they set out to do, we may be depriving students of the chance to learn as much as possible from what they study.

In campus cultures where being smart means being a critical unmasker, students may become too good at showing how things can’t possibly make sense. They may close themselves off from their potential to find or create meaning and direction from the books, music and experiments they encounter in the classroom.

Once outside the university, these students may try to score points by displaying the critical prowess for which they were rewarded in school, but those points often come at their own expense. As debunkers, they contribute to a cultural climate that has little tolerance for finding or making meaning — a culture whose intellectuals and cultural commentators get “liked” by showing that somebody else just can’t be believed. But this cynicism is no achievement.

Liberal education must not limit itself to critical thinking and problem solving; it must also foster openness, participation and opportunity. It should be designed to take us beyond the campus to a life of ongoing, pragmatic learning that finds inspiration in unexpected sources, and increases our capacity to understand and contribute to the world — and reshape it, and ourselves, in the process.[2]

As people on a path to fully realizing our potential, it is good to listen to Roth’s advice.

In November of 2012, I gave a sermon called “A More Perfect Union?” In it, I used the phrase “the messiness of democracy.”

Later today the congregation will engage in some democracy of our own. Our fifth principle, quoted on the front cover of today’s order of service, reaffirms our belief in the democratic process.

The democratic process is not helped forward by critique without it’s counterbalance of creativity.

If someone says, in any meeting of people, “I don’t like that rule or this change,” but can offer nothing to replace, not a helpful suggestion or even a half of a suggestion, it is the same as these freshman students of Dr. Roth’s pointing out that the emperor has no clothes, and yet offers no clothes for the emperor to wear until a better solution can be worked out.

The easy, safe thing to do is to throw the penalty flag, high in the air.  The more challenging thing to do is to roll up one’s sleeves and get to the work of figuring out how another solution might be brought forward.

For all of our time together, I have been trying to encourage healthy growth and healthy interaction between members of this Fellowship. Today, as we consider several by-laws changes and a budget, I hope that you will keep in mind the hours of hard work that people, your very fellows here in the congregation, the hours of hard work they have done to bring forth changes that they recommend to the whole Fellowship, because they feel the Fellowship will benefit for the changes.

I know that there has been some talk on facebook about the recommended changes to membership requirements here. I have not spoken or written a single word about the changes until now.

I have heard people use phrases like “poll tax” and “penalty.” The truth of the matter is this: to be a voting member of the congregation, the membership committee is recommending that you pledge the amount of money that the Fellowship expends to the UUA and District on your behalf as a voting member. If someone in our midst does not have those kind of resources, they can approach your minister and ask for a waiver.

This is exactly the same system that is in place now, for people who are low on resources. There is no change in this, except instead of having a donation of record, there must be a pledge of record.

In either case, if one of our members doesn't have the resources for that, they can do exactly what they have been doing all along, talk to the minister. The minister, who by the way, will not tell anyone else about this, but simply inform the administrator that said person is to be listed as a voting member.

There is no penalty, no discrimination, no recrimination.

There has only been an attempt by the Membership Committee to clarify the kinds of memberships we have here, so that our records are more accurate, so that we are paying our fair dues to the UUA and the district and nothing more.

During our meetings, at first there were several members who threw up a flag at the thought of making an expectation of a member. It went against our whole ‘free church’ ideal they said. And then the committee spent the better part of 3 or 4 months trying to straighten out the records of who we should be paying for, and who we should no longer be paying for.

This process is what Dr. Roth recommends. Yes, be a mindful person, make room for critique, but don’t stop at critique, also grow.

I agree with him. Be a mindful person. Let there be room for critique, but let that critique be a responsible one, one that is also willing to learn and grow.

May I keep this lesson in my own heart as well as attempting to teach it to others.

Amen.


[1] http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/05/10/young-minds-in-critical-condition/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=1&
[2] ibid.

Critique in the Service of Democracy
© The Rev. Joseph M Cherry
Written for and delivered to
The Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Stanislaus County
May 18th, 2014.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Salvation Doesn't Happen at the End.

Global Reading:

[An]other startling thing about Julian's homespun theology is her view of the feminine identity of God. Julian sees the Godhead in the Trinitarian context of Christianity, but with this radical twist: the Second Person (Christ) is actually the Mother (not the Son). "As truly as God is our Father," she says, "just as truly is God our Mother." Who else but a mother, she asks, would break herself open and pour herself out for her children? "Only God could ever perform such duty." Not only that, but Julian's God-as-Mother remains available at all times, especially present in our darkest hours -- some kind of spiritual hybrid that encompasses the unconditional love of Mother Mary in the Catholic tradition, the infinite compassion of Tara in the Buddhist tradition, and the indwelling holiness of the Shekhinah in the Jewish tradition.

It baffles Julian that we don't get this. When we miss the mark, we want to run away and hide. But "our courteous Mother doesn't want us to flee," Julian says. "Nothing would distress her more. She wants us to behave as a child would when he is upset or afraid: rush with all our might into the arms of the Mother." For Julian, the good news is not merely the reward we will receive one day when we slough off this mortal coil and go home to God. Every moment is an opportunity to remember that we are perfectly loved and perfectly lovable, just as we are.

"And so when the final judgment comes," Julian writes at the end of The Showings, "... we shall clearly see in God all the secrets that are hidden from us now. Then none of us will be moved in any way to say, 'Lord, if only things had been different, all would have been well.' Instead, we shall all proclaim in one voice, 'Beloved One, may you be blessed, because it is so: ALL IS WELL.'"[1]


Salvation Doesn’t Happen at the End.

Dictionary.com, which is based on the Random House Dictionary, offers up three definitions for the word Salvation.

1. the act of saving or protecting from harm, risk, loss, destruction, etc.
2. the state of being saved or protected from harm, risk, etc.
3. a source, cause, or means of being saved or protected from harm, risk, etc.
4. Theology. deliverance from the power and penalty of sin; redemption.

I don’t know if you were as surprised as I was by these definitions. For most of my life, salvation meant one thing to me: being saved from Hell by a belief in Jesus.

Which would’ve required me to believe in a story that I don’t believe in. I know and love many people for whom this story is deeply powerful and has a lot of meaning. I am just not one of them.

And as Easter is in just two weeks, this might be a good time for me to mention on Good Friday, the interfaith clergy group that I am a part of here in Modesto is co-leading two services together: one at Noon on Friday, at the First United Methodist Church downtown. That will be a service of hymns and readings. The later service, which will be held at the College Avenue UCC Church is something called a Ten brae service, which can be very moving. It starts with all the lights and candles in the sanctuary lit, and as the service goes along, one by one candles are extinguished, and then the gathered congregation leaves the sanctuary in darkness and silence at the end. This will start at 7PM, and I highly recommend it to you.

I don’t personally believe in the story of Jesus’s resurrection, but I do believe in honoring the faiths of others by engaging in interfaith worship. I hope you’ll join us.

So the first definition of salvation, offered up by the Random House dictionary, is, once again: the act of saving or protecting from harm, risk, loss, destruction, etc. The second definition is: the state of being saved or protected from harm, risk, etc.

I know that the news shared by the search committee this morning isn’t what anybody here wanted to hear. And back when I thought the only definition of Salvation had to do with being rescued from a Hell I don’t believe in by a God I don’t believe in, I was really worried about what I was going to say this morning.

But I have to come to preach to you about a very human salvation. That salvation, that caring, that work of protecting you from harm, of safeguarding the whole community, that the Search Committee is deeply engaged in.

When the Search Committee was formed, it was created by asking the membership of the congregation to write down three people they trusted, three people that you held in high esteem and respect on an index card. We did this for three weeks in a row.  At the end, the names were tallied, and the people who served on Grace’s Committee on Ministry and I listed the names in order, subtracted those names who were either on the Board, or who had spouses on the Board, and then invited 7 people. With only one change, those are the seven people on this committee now.

They take their responsibility very seriously.

And so in this round they didn’t find a candidate who they thought would be a good match for the congregation, not a minister who also thought that they had the talents needed to serve this congregation.

Like the lost button from the story I shared earlier, there just wasn’t a feeling of belonging.

By now you may be asking yourself, just how the Search Committee is engaging in a practice of salvation with regards to the congregation.  Here is one small possibility.

The Search Committee read a lot of pages written by ministers. Before that, though even happened, they engaged in months of research about this congregation. They found out what you wanted, what you felt you needed, what you preferred and what you didn’t like.

And with all that information, they began to read packets of ministers. Which, after having written one of my own, I can tell you, is a lot of words to read through.

Also, they met with Bob Meiss, who works with the District to help in this process.

This round of search, there just wasn’t a button that matched your shirt. A minister whose skills matched what this congregation needs.

It is far better to wait, and find a match then it is to pair up with a minister who isn’t suited to the congregation.

This is such a common occurrence that the Transitions Office in Boston has procedures for this. There are names for each of the steps that are to be taken if you a good match isn’t found in the first round.

The Reverend Keith Kron wrote a letter to those congregations that did not find a match in their first round. In it he writes:

I am sorry that a candidate did not work out in this process...yet.  Ultimately that may be for the better, but I know it is hard.

Some of you may decide you want to enter into the second round of search, which is an abbreviated version of the first round.  The calendar is below for key dates.

Some of you may decide to wait six months to the next cycle or a full year to enter the search again.  Any of the above answers are fine. We will honor your choices.

Some congregations went into the second round of search, which is shorter, trying to find a minister.  Sometimes this works well, and sometimes it doesn’t. About that Keith writes:

Additionally, of those congregations in the second round of search,  50% of them were able to find a minister.  It's an effort worth trying but it may not find you a minister.   This does not mean you were unsuccessful.  Creating a bottom line standard is important and not going below that line is vitally important.

In the last two years, 2 of the 9 ministers called in the second round were negotiated out and resigned within the first nine months of their ministry.  The learning from here is this:  Don't let your standards drop or your anxiety cloud good judgment.  Keep the same standards you had before.  You are better off with another year of interim ministry now versus a ministry that ends in the first year.  There are few absolutes from my vantage point, but that is one of them.  Whatever pressure and hope you may hear from the congregation, don't let it lead you to settle for someone whom you've got significant questions about.


These are more instructions for salvation.


By now some of you have heard that I have received an invitation to be the Candidate for my next church. Now that they have been able to announcement this in their service today, I can tell you that it is true. I have been asked to Candidate for the Settled, Permanent Ministry in the Unitarian Universalist Society of Cleveland, Ohio.

Last year, the Society in Cleveland sat in their sanctuary, and had their Search Committee tell them just what yours told you today: We do not have a match.

From an interim minister who has been in my place before, that place of loving a congregation who you think is amazing, that hasn’t found a ministerial match…I bring these words of wisdom: Do not use the phrase “failed search,” instead, use the phrase “incomplete search.”

I invite you to listen to the advice of the wise women I’ve brought to you this morning. St. Julian of Norwich and the Rev. Meg Barnhouse. Even if St. Julian’s dependence on a Parent God doesn’t sit well with you, there is the message that all will be well, because it is. Even if what you are looking at right now in this moment isn’t perhaps all that you would like it to be, it is as it should be.

Meg Barnhouse, in her study of Julian of Norwich, discovered such a deep theme of “things are as they should be,” that she was able to write a song and sing it to the Unitarian Universalist congregation she serves as minister. She asks, “Julian, don’t you know about the troubles of the world? It’s too much! It brings me to my knees!” And Julian responds to Meg, all is as it should be.

We don’t have to wait until we die to figure out the question of salvation. We don’t even have to agree on what happens to us after we die. There are people who hold wildly divergent ideas about what happens after death.

And all of that is okay, because you are a loving community, and loving to each other. Here, and in Unitarian Universalist churches the world wide, we work to protect each other from harm and risk and in times of loss, we gather around each other with loving arms full of tissues, casseroles and hugs.

In times of disappointment, we gather around each other. We look into each other faces, and offer sometimes even a tentative smile, for we know that together, we will be okay.

You will do the work that must be done. You will support each other through this time. All will be as it should be.

And then, when you do find the minister that has the talents, gifts and love to offer you that you deserve, you will celebrate.

And what a celebration it will be.





[1] http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mirabai-starr/julian-of-norwich_b_4115736.html

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Stepping Away from Shared Ministry

Reading from the Global Scripture:

The Rev. William Ellery Channing, Minister of the Federal Street Church of Boston, invited all Massachusetts ministers known to be liberal to meet in the vestry of his church (whose entrance was on Berry Street) on May 30, 1820. At the meeting Channing delivered a prepared address. He urged upon his colleagues a "bond of union" among liberal Christian ministers, within which they might meet to exchange practical ideas for strengthening their ministries.

Meeting again on the evening of May 31, 1820, [and] thus was initiated the Berry Street Conference which has convened every year save one (during WWII) since 1820, and thus is the Berry Street Essay the oldest lecture series on the North American continent. As from its beginning, its purpose is to contribute to the practical strength of liberal ministries. The convening of the Berry Street Conference, for the delivery and hearing of the Berry Street Essay, has for many years now been the last event of the annual meeting and conference of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association.


The Rev. Dr. Mark Morrison Reed gave this lecture at the 180th meeting of the Berry Street Essay. Mark is a scholar of Unitarian Universalist history and author of many books on race, multiculturalism and our faith. Mark and I both found our call to ministry in the First Unitarian Society of Chicago and that congregation ordained us both. 

These are words that Mark shared with almost a thousand Unitarian Universalist ministers:


I am at home among these people in this liberal religious movement. It is a place where I was nurtured, and because I was nurtured I grew; having grown, I could give, and having given I grew more. It is a place where struggling, I could fail; where failing, I was still loved, where loved, I could begin again. It is a place where in pain I could go; where, having gone, I was cared for; where cared for, I could heal and go on. That is why I am a minister, to help sustain religious communities - places like the one in which I grew up, places made holy by what people experience within them - the seasons of their lives and the healing of their souls.

The power of community is enormous and I have lived my entire life in its embrace. It is why I entered the ministry. I believe the liberal church is worth devoting a life to -- my life, in fact.

My years as a congregant did not prepare me, however, for a cruel irony. Ministry, as most of you have discovered I am sure, is a source of unrequited grief. I regret having not read the fine print. If I had, perhaps I would have made another choice. But the print was very small, the phrasing paradoxical, while I was young and eager. This is what it said:

You will love your parishioners with all your heart but never befriend them.
You will pour out your lifeblood for the community but never settle there.
You shall die to the congregation so that the ministry might live.




Sermon:

The title of Mark Morrison-Reed’s Berry Street Essay is “After Running Through the Thistles, the Hard Part Begins.”[1] Since 2000 it has become required reading for every seminarian. For me, it had such a great impact, that I printed a copy and sent it to my Mom…because I wanted to give her some insight to what I was doing with my life.

Mark starts off his essay talking about the baptismal font at the front of the church. He wrote:
The baptismal font was older than the building. It had accompanied the First Unitarian Society of Chicago when the congregation moved south to Hyde Park. The years had dulled the white marble.[2]

Part of why this essay was so impactful for me, personally, is that I had for more than 15 years saw at that very baptismal font almost every Sunday morning. I had dusted it during cleaning days. When Morrison-Reed talks about having been nurtured, grown, forgiven and loved…though separated by a couple of decades…he is talking about the very same people who nurtured, loved and forgave me. They are also the same people who ordained us both and sent us out into the world to love, change and heal the world in their name.

Our theological theme this month is Letting Go. Like a couple of the themes, it is not something I might have chosen, and at first blush, I was a little troubled by it. Letting go isn’t always easy for me, and maybe it isn’t for you, either. So far, in this month of five Sundays, we have had sermons about letting go of perfection, not quite being ready to let go, letting go of old wounds and today, letting go of our shared ministry.

I want to re-share three lines from Mark’s essay:

You will love your parishioners with all your heart but never befriend them.
You will pour out your lifeblood for the community but never settle there.
You shall die to the congregation so that the ministry might live.


You will love your parishioners with all your heart but never befriend them.

This is so true, and when you’re in seminary you think “Oh, I can do this. This won’t be so bad.” And you’d be wrong.

I know of at least one person in the congregation who was fairly hurt by this boundary. Any person, every person, has people with whom they share a natural affinity. Somebody who’s jokes you laugh at, who enjoys the same kind things, like music or books, that you do.

And as a minister, you usually start your new job in a new town where you know nobody. And also, you have this long habit of already making friends that feel like family at church.

But as the minister, you can’t do that. Morrison-Reed wrote:

The relationship of minister and parishioner has the qualities of a friendship, but no matter how warm and deep, authentic and reciprocal the relationship is it is not a sustainable friendship. Why? Because it is built upon an unavoidable imbalance -- the minister is always more responsible for the relationship. When necessary we must be prepared to forsake the role of friend for that of minister, and ready to choose the well being of the community over the needs of the friend. We are not as free to share all aspects of our lives and ourselves. Nor can we make friends with whom we please, for that would create two classes of parishioners -- the chosen and the not. Finally, when our ministries come to an end so must the relationships, lest we take up space the next ministry needs if it is to take root. [3]

This very concern came out in answers to the survey the Ministerial Search Committee did. To potential new ministers, the Search Committee answered the question: Describe the worst mistake your new minister could make: by saying:

In our survey, with 59 people answering that question, two mistakes categorized as “change” and ”clique” finished in a dead heat. The members do not want the new minister to make changes without making them feel they have been a part of the process, nor do they want him/her to align with a person or groups in the church.


In this one answer, one of many, many answers an old wound can be seen. It is true that there is always somebody, some person who feels that the minister likes others better, that someone else is getting preferential treatment. This can only be addressed by the person who feels slighted.

What I find interesting in this answer is that only 59 people responded to the survey written by the Search Committee. 59 out of some 145 people. That’s not a very high voter turn-out.

Secondly, systemically, the people who answered this survey are very worried that the new minister will have favorites and will work to change the congregation.

Every minister knows that it is a potential disaster to befriend your congregants, and yet we are only human. This is one of the toughest parts of ministry, and probably one of the most invisible.

There are concerts that I have not attended, parties I have not gone to, and people I have not invited to our home for dinner. There are people I am very sure we would love to spend more time with, that I have not, because of this boundary. Whenever we are together, I am the minister. I do not get to take the collar, or stole, off, so to speak. It doesn’t matter if that setting is here at the church, at Target, at Graceada Park, in the hospital or in your home.

It isn’t that I don’t like you. I think by now you must know how deeply I care. It’s that the minister is always responsible for the relationship and its boundaries. And yet even with my still careful attention to these balances in relationship, still I have been accused of having favorites. As Rev. Grace was accused of before me, and before her, I have heard that Rev. Lesley and Rev. Jody also dealt with this concern.

I’m sure that all of my predecessors also had to deal with resistance to change.

When, over a forty year period, the same patterns, the same tensions between congregation and minister arise, even with vastly different personalities in your pulpit, if the same concerns keep coming up over and over again, it is not issue of the ever changing ministers. It is clearly something deep within this congregation.

And that will be something I hope you keep in mind with your next minister, and your shared ministry with them. Ask yourself “Why am I so resistant to change?” “Why are we, as a system, so quick to assume that there are cliques in the church?” And then ask yourself how you, yourself, can be part of the solution to these long-term concerns. What is it in your own behavior, mindset and engagement that manifests these issues.


You will pour out your lifeblood for the community but never settle there.

This is very evident when you are an Interim Minister. You come with, as the Canadians say “An Expiry Date.”

But this is true of all ministry, and an interim minister pours no less life-blood into the community than does a settled minister.

Even if my next ministry is a settled ministry, that place will not be a place I will settle. I must always be prepared, Denis and I must always be prepared for the time when our ministries have come to their natural conclusion.

We must always keep this in our hearts.

When Rev. Grace came back to celebrate the 60th Anniversary of the congregation, she asked me to have coffee with her the next day.

For a while we talked about many things, like how retirement was going for her, her astonishment at the Sanctuary Renewal and that the mayor and poet laureate were there.

And since she is a senior colleague, I used some of our time to get some advice. I said to her “I don’t know how you left them (meaning you.) They are such an amazing group of people. I have a pre-set date of departure, but how did you have the strength to do it?”

She replied “I knew it was time. We had shared a lot, and the congregation had been through some nice change and growth, and I knew they were about to embark on a whole new level of growth, and I felt that I was not the person to take them through that. And I know Joe, that you’re pastor enough to know, that when you have a settled ministry, you will know when it is time and you will have the love and strength it takes to leave when it is time.”

Even though homes are bought in town, and you get to love things like the Gallo Center, always in some back corner of your mind is the knowledge that this is not the place you will settle.
And that knowledge always keeps you a little bit separate.


You shall die to the congregation so that the ministry might live.

This is a third, painful aspect of ministry. That despite all of my work, all of the belly laughs and tears from deeply honest places, when it is my time to leave, I must leave.

We ministers are in a covenant with each other. We have rules about how long we must stay away from a congregation we have served. We, for the care and well-being of our congregations, accepted a hierarchy of ministerial authority. We, who are also Unitarian Universalists, who don’t like authority, or too much structure, we have voluntarily accepted both for the sake of the congregations we serve.
When I was here two weeks, and Martin Z. died, I called Rev. Grace and asked her if she would like to preside over Martin’s memorial service. After all, I had only met Martin once, and Grace had been his minister for a little over a decade.

Truth be told, I was really hoping that she would perform the memorial service, because I didn’t really know ANYBODY yet, and I was concerned I would make a mess of things.

But Grace, knowing better, told me that she would not accept my invitation, saying “They are your congregation now, and funerals are part of what bond a congregation to their minister.”

Not the answer I wanted, but the wiser answer.

In so doing, Grace demonstrated for me what I will need to do when I leave.

I will need to leave. I will not be able to, in good conscience, correspond with the people in this congregation. The ones who I have come to look forward to seeing each and every week. The people whose presence makes my heart smile, or grin wryly, depending on the person.

It is not yet time for us to be that separate, but it is time that we start thinking about it. It is time that the separation begins. In little, baby steps.

You many notice over the course of the next two months that I respond to email differently. Instead of using the word “we” I will use the word “you.” Instead of answering questions to the best of my ability, I will try to show you were to find those answers yourself. In conversations, I may contribute noticeably less.

In doing this I am not being cagey. Rather, I am practicing.

We have become so used to each other, so comfortable with each other, that this change may difficult for us. But I will keep Mark Morrison-Reeds words on my desk.

You will love your parishioners with all your heart but never befriend them.
You will pour out your lifeblood for the community but never settle there.
You shall die to the congregation so that the ministry might live.


I hope that as we prepare for our journey together to end, me taking one path, you taking another, I hope that as we come to that place in the road where we will say goodbye, I hope that these three sentences will help you, as I hope they will help me.


[1] http://www.uua.org/documents/morrison-reedmark/afterthistles.pdf
[2] ibid.
[3] ibid.