This prayer was given exactly four years ago, for Veteran’s Day, by Rev. Kathleen Rolenz, who serves West Shore Unitarian Universalist Church in Rocky River, Ohio.

I choose it today because I feel it exemplifies the ideas in Monday’s post that “If there is a God who listens, then he or she is listening in the people gathered here.” Rev. Rolenz offers a timely message, four additional long years into the same war, and a reminder to all who hear it that we are, after all, in it together as a human family.

For consideration: What kind of public prayers speak most to you and your community? Is private prayer a meaningful practice for you?

Prayer for November 14, 2003

by Rev. Kathleen Rolenz

Let us join our hearts and minds together in the spirit of prayer:
O Holy One, that unites all who are estranged
and challenges all who preach division and exclusion,

We see that unity so often in the eyes of a child, who sees neither race or creed in any eyes that look back, but only whether those are smiling are crying.

(Read on … )

The third principle of Unitarian Universalism as set forth in the by-laws of the Unitarian Universalist Association is the covenant to affirm and promote “Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations.” In the conclusion of his essay, “Love the Contradictions,” Rev. Robert Hardies challenges individual Unitarian Universalists to take on that spiritual growth through our common struggle with the contradictions of our world and our own selves.

A question for discussion: what responsibility does an individual member of a congregation have to the larger community when it comes to spiritual growth?

The essay was printed in the UUWorld’s summer 2007 issue, from The Seven Principles in Word and Worship, edited by Ellen Brandenburg (Skinner House Books, 2007). Part one can be found here, and part two here.

Love the Contradictions, pt. 3

by Rev. Robert Hardies

Let’s not be fooled by the false dilemma of whether we should focus our lives on spiritual growth or social justice, as if the two are mutually exclusive. When we frame the conversation this way, we undermine both our spiritual health and our work for justice, and we misunderstand the meaning of a world-affirming spirituality.

The moment I first understood this link between spirituality and justice was when I had the opportunity to study with Gustavo Gutiérrez, the father of Latin American liberation theology and one of the preeminent religious thinkers of the twentieth century. Gutiérrez is the priest of a large, poverty-stricken parish on the outskirts of Lima, Peru. I took a class with him just after I returned from working in Guatemala, when I was still trying to reconcile my experience there with my life in the United States. On the third day of class, a student asked Gutiérrez to explain how we, as residents of the richest country in the world, could best serve the poor in Latin America. After some silence, Gutiérrez confessed that he had always struggled with how to divide his time between being a parish priest and a theologian. Sometimes he felt guilty traveling the world giving talks and papers while his parishioners struggled just to survive. Other times, he felt frustrated that he couldn’t more broadly share liberation theology’s gospel of God’s love for the poor and oppressed. “All my life,” he said, “I’ve sought a theoretical or spiritual answer to this question of how I am to serve the poor: as a priest or as a theologian. But I haven’t found one. I simply try to find a balance between being a theologian and being a pastor. And in the midst of all the suffering—I know this might sound romantic—I try to be happy.”

“As for you,” he said to the student, “you have to find the answer for yourself.”

(Read on … )

This week is dedicated to the ideas presented in Rev. Robert Hardies’ essay, “Love the Contradictions,” printed in the UUWorld’s summer 2007 issue, from The Seven Principles in Word and Worship, edited by Ellen Brandenburg (Skinner House Books, 2007). Rev. Hardies serves All Souls Church, Unitarian, in Washington, D.C.

The essay is just packed, so I’ve broken it into three sections. The first describes Rev. Hardies’ personal realizations of the contradictory nature of the world, and his life within the world. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t struggled with this.

Part two can be found here, and part three here.

Love the Contradictions, pt. 1

by Rev. Robert Hardies

When I was in seminary, I had to take a test called the Minnesota Multi phasic Personality Inventory, a multiple-choice exam that asks questions like, “Have you been hearing voices lately?” When I sat down with the psychiatrist two weeks later to hear the results, he told me, “By and large, this is a healthy profile.” Then he pointed to a line that plummeted from the top of the page to the bottom. “But do you see this? This means that your soul is conflicted, filled with tensions and contradictions. Those tensions can either be a blessing or a curse; they can either stimulate creativity and vitality in your life, or they can shut you down.” Seeing my reaction, he reassured me, “Rob, you have to learn to love the tensions that are in your soul.” Love the tensions? I wasn’t sure I had heard him right.

Ten years later, I am still trying to discover what it really means to not merely accept the tensions and contradictions of life but to love them. We want to love the world, but does that mean we must condone all that is wrong with it, that we must quietly acquiesce to injustice? What is there to love about contradictions?

(Read on … )

I’m still working my way through the 1914 American Unitarian Association New Hymn and Tune Book, and bring you three hymn texts today.

There are a few things I try to keep in mind as I go through this material. Firstly, though this collection was published in 1914, many of the texts are from far earlier than that. As in our present-day hymnal, there was probably consideration taken to well-loved traditional hymns, balanced with some new things. Secondly, the language is unabashedly theistic and in many cases patriarchal.

What I take away from these texts into my here-and-now life experience is the sense of longing expressed in so many different ways — longing for the touch of the Holy, longing to be free from the flaws inherent in all of us, longing to see a better, brighter world. I think we have many of the same longings now, but we don’t express them nearly so eloquently.

Hymns from The New Hymn and Tune Book

published by the American Unitarian Association, 1914

100. Where is thy God? set to the tune Domenica S.M.
Thomas Toke Lynch, 1855

Where is thy God, my soul?
Is he within thy heart;
Or ruler of a distant realm
In which thou hast no part?

(Read on … )

The Rev. Dr. Galen Guengerich is the senior minister at the All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church in New York City, and preached this sermon on June 3, 2007.

What I love about Rev. Guengerich’s approach to this topic of faith and reason and how they might come together is that he’s more interested in how our reason and faith cause us to live our lives in the world as we stand on the seeming divide between reason and religion, rather than advocating for one side or the other. See what you think.

The Dangerous Edge of Things

By Rev. Dr. Galen Guengerich

Several nights ago, over dinner with friends who are not part of the All Souls community, my wife Holly and I found ourselves engaged in a wide-ranging conversation about religion. This seems to happen rather frequently when I’m around, though almost never at my instigation. With our friends—he’s a sardonic Jew, and she’s a wistful Congregationalist, both quite lapsed—we decried the appalling state of religion in the world. We wondered how people came to believe things that science tells us can’t happen, such as the virgin birth and the resurrection. We mused about whether Christianity could be reformed thoroughly enough to become gender-neutral and still survive.

Then the wistfulness set in, as the Congregationalist longingly recalled the power of the hymns and Bible stories of her small-town Christian upbringing. Maybe Thomas Jefferson was right, Holly remarked, when he took the New Testament gospels and a scissors, and literally cut out the miracles and supernatural elements, keeping the rest. The sardonic Jew objected. Every religion has irrational elements, he said; that’s what makes it a religion.

Not necessarily, I countered. Mystery and magic aren’t the same thing. I don’t believe in events that contravene the laws of nature, but some important elements of human life can’t be put into a test tube or under a microscope. He persisted: if you can’t prove something, it’s irrational. Mathematicians can’t prove the principle of addition, I responded, but that doesn’t make belief in addition irrational. And so it went.

An hour later, we paid the check and said good night. It had been a wonderful evening: engaging, provocative, even profound. It reminded me of the conversations people must have had to entertain themselves before radios, televisions, and the internet presented themselves as substitutes.

But the evening was more than entertainment. Without intending to do so, we had stumbled upon what I believe is one of the most important issues facing our world today: the difference between science and religion, between reason and revelation, between knowledge and faith. The usual way of parsing this relationship is to say that knowledge is based upon human reason, and that faith is based upon a supernatural revelation. For those who accept this dichotomy, the problem comes when reason and revelation clash, requiring that one or the other be given precedence. We live in a world roiled by this dilemma. Within this setting, my goal is to clarify what we mean when we describe ourselves as people of faith.

(Read on … )

The First Unitarian Society of Madison, WI, is one of, if not the largest congregations belonging to the Unitarian Universalist Association. The congregation of more than 2000 members, friends, and children, worships in a Frank Lloyd Wright building, and supports three ministers.

The Rev. Kelly J. Crocker, Minister of Religious Education, preached this fine sermon (PDF) last summer. In it, she addresses the fundamental question–what is the point of Unitarian Universalism? Why are we here?

The Point of It All

by Rev. Kelly J. Crocker, preached August 13, 2006 at the First Unitarian Society of Madison, WI

A few months ago, I found myself in the middle of that conversation many of us dread. I was talking with a friend about work and she suddenly said, “what is that UU all about again? I know we’ve had this conversation before but I just don’t get it.” So I went into my standard answer about our long history dating back to the Reformation and even before and how we had evolved as a movement throughout the years, and how now we were theologically diverse, non creedal, social justice minded, focused on the here and now, finding salvation here on earth, seekers together on a common journey of exploration and so on and so on. I thought I had actually done a pretty good job when she turned to me and said “Well, what’s the point of that? You don’t give people the right answers to those big life questions; you don’t guarantee them entrance into some heavenly place when they die; you don’t even tell them the “right” path to follow or what to believe. So why bother?”

(Read on … )

On this Labor Day, savor the final section of “Images for Our Lives,” the 2003 Berry Street Address by Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman, Senior Minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas.

Part one can be found here.
Part two can be found here.

“Images for Our Lives”

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

I want to talk about another element of our linguistic crisis: that is the language of yearning. It’s not only that, but let’s start there.

Early in my ministry I began to question why people were coming to see me. The problems and issues they brought into my study were posed in psychological terms. I knew that there were enough therapists in town to cover the needs of my whole congregation. “Why were they coming to me?” I asked. Perhaps, I told myself, it was because I was a minister. They didn’t have the language to speak it, but they had the depth to feel it. They needed spiritual counsel.

(Read on … )

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 … )

Many people join a church for community, for solidarity, for a place to belong. This sermon by the Rev. Marlin Lavanhar, senior minister at All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, OK, illustrates just how powerful that belonging can be.

Rev. Lavanhar and his family suffered the terrible loss of their three-year-old daughter, Sienna, last spring. This was the beautiful, heart-felt message he had for his congregation on Homecoming Sunday, four months later:

Finding Our Song

By Rev. Marlin Lavanhar, All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, September 10, 2006

Once upon a time, back when people still had time, back before time was something we put into little circles and carried around on our wrists, there was a time when the world burnt down. There was nothing left on the face of the planet but a thick layer of coal and ash. All that survived was a bird named Ekanchu. And Ekanchu flew all over searching for signs of life. But he found none.

Ekanchu thought that he should try to find the special tree, the one where the holy men (the shamans of the community) went, in order to allow their spirits to rise into the heavens and descend into the dark places. Ekanchu figured if only he could find that tree, then maybe, maybe he could find life.

(Read on … )