Today we continue with Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas, and her fantastic Berry Street Essay from 2003, “Images for Our Lives.” Part one can be found here.

In this segment, Rev. Hallman references two poems — First Lesson, by Philip Booth, and The Rowing Endeth, by Anne Sexton. Because of copyright issues, the poems are not printed in their entirety in the essay, though links to the full texts are provided.

Come back Monday for the conclusion!

“Images for Our Lives”

by Rev. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister, First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Berry Street Essay, 2003, part 2 of 3

I recently spoke to our Adult Sunday School Class in Dallas on the topic “Why I am not a Theist”. They packed the room to hear what I had to say, because of course they thought I was. Why did they think I was a Theist? Because I use the word God. Because I pray in the midst of the worship service. I was embarrassed a bit myself, to find that I had failed to make the distinction that the use of metaphors and poetry and scripture has to do with religious imagination, and not with one theological category or another. We had a lively and productive discussion that day, as I spoke, as I am today, about religious language, and how it communicates the depths of experience, and that it isn’t always what it seems.

I remember years ago, when the Principles and Purposes were being formulated in meetings all across our continent, Peter Fleck, of beloved memory, who was on the committee to synthesize those formulations—Peter Fleck said that he had noticed a curious thing. When he asked individual UUs where they stood theologically, he said, “They would juxtapose two seemingly opposite theological categories together. Like Christian-Humanist, or Agnostic-Christian, or Rational-Mystic refusing to align themselves with one distinct theology.” Peter was puzzled by this.

I now think it was the beginning of our attempts to extricate ourselves from the hard theological boundaries within which we had closed ourselves off from one another and from our experience of religious imagination, and deep reality.

(Read on … )

One could say that how we talk about religious and spiritual ideas is the most important part of how Unitarian Universalist churches minister to the needs of our members. The Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas, delivered this essay to the Ministerial Conference at Berry Street in 2003, somewhat in response to the Unitarian Universalist Association President William Sinkford’s call for a greater “language of reverence” in our churches earlier that year.

This essay is quite lengthy, but very, very worth your while. I have broken it into sections — come back Friday for part two! (If you just can’t wait, the full text is linked at the bottom of this post.)

“Images for Our Lives”

by Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister, First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Berry Street Essay, 2003, part 1 of 3

I want to dedicate this essay to the memory of two men who died the same week in March. The first is Harry Scholefield, who was my mentor and friend and partner in the work of articulating a spiritual practice for religious liberals. The second, perhaps less known by many of you is Hardy Sanders, a layperson in my congregation in Dallas—a more passionate and devoted and generous UU I have not known. These two losses, and what these men stood for, in the midst of so much we have had to bear this year, have weighed heavily on me as I have prepared this essay.

Each one was devoted to our faith. At the same time, Hardy felt that we were frittering away our message with petty diversions. And Harry felt that we, especially we UU ministers, ‘used’ poems and wisdom literature, without having lived them. In many ways their lives and concerns shape what I have to say today.

(Read on … )

Today I draw from Singing the Living Tradition, the hymnal used in the majority of Unitarian Universalist congregations. The words of Rev. Dr. Mark Belletini, senior minister at the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbus, Ohio:

Singing the Living Tradition #686

by Rev. Dr. Mark Belletini

Go in peace.
Live simply, gently, at home in yourselves.
Act justly.
Speak justly.
Remember the depth of your own compassion.
Forget not your power in the days of your powerlessness.

Do not desire to be wealthier than your peers
and stint not your hand of charity.
Practice forbearance.
Speak the truth, or speak not.
Take care of yourselves as bodies, for you are a good gift.

Crave peace for all people in the world,
beginning with yourselves,
and go as you go with the dream of that peace alive in your heart.

Source: Singing the Living Tradition reading #686, by the Rev. Dr. Mark Belletini, senior minister at the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbus, Ohio.

A frequent question in Unitarian Universalist churches is, “Well, if you don’t all believe in God, what do you go to church for?” The Rev. Dr. Matthew Tittle, from the Bay Area Unitarian Universalist Church in Houston, Texas, addresses this question in a sermon from last summer, “Why Atheists Go to Church.” This piece is also the title sermon of his forthcoming book, due out this fall.

You can find out more about Rev. Dr. Tittle at his website, and he also blogs for the Houston Chronicle at Keep the Faith.

Why Atheists Go to Church

by Rev. Dr. Matthew Tittle, June 11, 2006

Why would an atheist go to church? I know that this looks like just another catchy title for our marquee sign, but I have often been asked this question when people learn that we have a significant number of professed atheists in our congregations. I have an overly simplistic answer to this question: For the same reason everyone else goes to church.

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of Sam and the Rabbi. The Rabbi is talking to Sam, a regular attendee at temple, but an avowed atheist. The Rabbi says, “Sam, everybody knows you don’t believe in God, but I see you here every Sabbath. Why do you come to temple?” Sam says, “You know my friend Bernie? He comes to temple to talk to God. I come to talk to Bernie.”

I recently heard about an informal study of why people joined a particular church. They joined because the church was in the neighborhood, because a friend invited them, because they liked the windows, because they enjoyed the music, because the people were friendly, because the sermons were interesting, and so on. None said they joined because of their particular belief or disbelief in God or anything else. Some people do go to church to talk to God. Some people go to talk to each other.

(Read on … )

I had the privilege of getting to know the Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby at Meadville Lombard Theological School, where she was working on her M.Div. degree a year ahead of my husband. She’s brilliant, an absolute hoot, and great fun at the poker table.

She also writes really wonderful things for her congregation, All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana. This meditation is just a small example:

Meditation for February 26, 2006

Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby

Spirit of love and giver of life, we bring our love and gratitude for our lives and for the opportunity to be ourselves and to be with others in peace and friendship. We know that full understanding is beyond us, but let us continue to search for truth and to create meaning in our lives through continuous learning, working together in harmony, playful times, and loving times with family.

As we mourn for those we and other have lost, as we hope for speedy recoveries of those who are ill and in pain, we pause to speak the names of those who are in our hearts and minds….

Every day bring us new challenges and new opportunities. Let us work toward transforming those challenges into greater opportunities.

Let us pause to appreciate our good fortunes, and to think of ways to help those who are not as fortunate as we. For the smallest gesture or helping hand often can make a huge difference in the life of someone who is suffering.

Let us always smile when we greet little children, listen genuinely to the ideas and feelings of adolescents. Let us remember to say important things to people we love. Let us not regret when someone is gone that we have not told him how much he or she meant to us, or what we appreciate and loved about him. Let us live in such a way that we have no regrets when we get ready to cross that final river.

And let us be together in this church -– be together in love and laughter, in good works and service to our fellows. Let us always remember to welcome the stranger, not because that stranger might be the Buddha or Jesus in disguise, but because to welcome anyone is to generate more fellowship, more collegiality, more love. “For I was a stranger, and you took me in.” Let no one leave this place feeling like a stranger, but welcomed from the depths of our hearts. For loneliness can be hard to bear, and the welcoming smile can help to overcome pain that we might never know lay lurking below the surface of someone’s countenance.

Let us begin this week anew, with fresh outlooks, with delight in nature, with appreciation of friends and family, with new energy for our work, and with commitment to make the world a better place for more people.

Source: Meditation for February 26, 2006 (PDF), Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby, serving the All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church of Shreveport, Louisiana.

This morning brings us a charge. The Rev. Dr. Marni Harmony of the First Unitarian Church of Orlando, Florida writes that we must see our connection to the world if we are to live in it fully. May none of us remain “chained to a rusty anchor.”

I Say It Touches Us

By Rev. Dr. Marni Harmony

I say that it touches us that our blood is
sea water and our tears are salt, that the seed of our bodies is scarcely
different
from the same cells in a seaweed,
and that the stuff of our bones is like the coral.
I say that the tide rolls in on us, whether we like it or no, and the sands of time keep running their intended course.
I say we have to go down into the wave’s trough to find ourselves, and then ride her swell until we can see beyond ourselves into our neighbor’s eye.
I say that we shall never leave the harbor if we do not hoist the sail.
I say that we have got to walk the waves as well as solid ground.
I say that anyone who goes without consciousness of this will remain chained to a rusty anchor.
May the journey find us worthy. Amen.

Source: “I Say it Touches Us,” Rev. Dr. Marni Harmony, minister at the First Unitarian Church of Orlando, Florida; Church of the Larger Fellowship Quest Newsletter, June 2006.

I’m cheating a little bit today, since I can neither confirm nor deny that poet Eleanor Lerman is a Unitarian Universalist. But this poem is something that just sticks with me, and I think you’ll enjoy it, too. I found it most recently through the Writer’s Almanac.

Starfish

by Eleanor Lerman

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to
the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a
stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have
your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman
down beside you at the counter who says, Last night,
the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,
is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the
pond, where whole generations of biological
processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds
speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,
they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old
enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?
There is movement beneath the water, but it
may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the
years you ran around, the years you developed
a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,
owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are
genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have
become. And then life lets you go home to think
about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.
Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one
who never had any conditions, the one who waited
you out. This is life’s way of letting you know that
you are lucky. (It won’t give you smart or brave,
so you’ll have to settle for lucky.) Because you
were born at a good time. Because you were able
to listen when people spoke to you. Because you
stopped when you should have and started again.
So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

Source: “Starfish,” by poet Eleanor Lerman, by way of the Writer’s Almanac for July 25, 2007.

Today’s post comes from the Rev. Christine Robinson, from her “Psalms for a New World” project. Rev. Robinson, who serves the First Unitarian Church of Albuquerque, New Mexico, writes, “I’ve worked with the Book of Psalms periodically over the years in my own meditation and prayer, but always with mixed emotions, because, for all its beauty and wisdom, the Book of Psalms has limits which I found off-putting.”

And so, she improvised her own versions on the themes and ideas in the traditional biblical writings as a spiritual practice, the results of which she has generously posted on a blog for easy reference.

This is one that speaks deeply to me:

Psalm 14: Will we learn?

by Rev. Christine Robinson

We wonder, in our hearts, if there is a God,
   or meaning, or hope.
Even our humanism is shaken, when it seems that people
   care only about themselves
The ideals we have and the airs we take on
   seem foolish and vain.
Is there anyone who is wise?
Is there anyone who is just?
Any who treat their neighbors
   as persons of worth and dignity?
or who are centered and mature in their faith?

There is only ourselves; half-wise, attracted
   to justice, trying to be good.
Only ourselves and the ideals that burn like fire in our hearts.

What will open our eyes?
What will soften our greed?
What will give us a passion for justice?

Only the voice that speaks in the longing of our hearts
That lifts our spirits and makes us sing.

Source: Psalm 14: “Will we learn?” by Rev. Christine Robinson, minister of the First Unitarian Church of Albuquerque, NM, posted at Psalms for a New World.

posted with permission from the author

Hiatus over!

Today I share with you a blog post-prayer from the Rev. Parisa Parsa, who writes the wonderful new Unitarian Universalist blog, “pastor prayers.” Rev. Parsa serves the First Parish Unitarian Universalist in Milton, Massachusetts, and offers a lovely reflection on parenting small children and on getting along with other humans in this world of ours in general:

“When We All Have Something to Learn”

by Rev. Parisa Parsa
posted on “pastor prayers” on July 14, 2007

God of the in-between territory, where human needs converge and sometimes clash, guide me through these tender times.

I’ve reluctantly gotten used to the referee role of parenting, mediating disputes over sharing and hitting, tattling and bad words. I already pray daily not to be too shrill, and not to be too indulgent, and not to say things that will come back and bite me when my son tries to apply the same rules to me, and generally not to screw my child up any more than is necessary. But now we’re in the emotional zone that takes it to the next level. We’re into the disputes in which no one is wrong, but the clash of differing needs can be devastating.

(Read on … )