So we started on Monday with examples of individual congregational mission statements: statements trying, with varying success, to communicate the purpose of gathering in a particular religious community.

Today we explore congregational covenants, the promises that members of a religious community make to one another in determining how they will be together in that community. The lines between these two kinds of statements can be somewhat blurred, but I have tried to select examples that illustrate the difference of intention behind them.

The Unitarian Universalist Association’s Principles and Purposes, part of the by-laws that govern the national organization, are framed as a covenant between congregations, and many individual members use them as a guideline for what a Unitarian Universalist community strives to be, but many congregations have their own statements for how they will be together in addition to the Principles.

The denomination’s Commission on Appraisal wrote a report entitled “Engaging Our Theological Diversity” (very long PDF worth reading), published in 2005, in which they took a snapshot of the state of our congregations and how the movement as a whole copes with the unique position of building communities of faith without the bindings of theological creed. They found that about half of the responding congregations recite a covenant in worship each Sunday (see page 102), and the most commonly used statement is the Williams Covenant, with some variations on the text.

For consideration: How is a covenant different from a mission statement? How does a congregational covenant reflect into the daily lives of individual members?

Covenants

Love is the doctrine of this church, the quest of truth is its sacrament and service is its prayer. To dwell together in peace, to seek knowledge in freedom, to serve humanity in fellowship, to the end that all souls shall grow into harmony with the divine, thus do we covenant with each other and with God.

~J. Griswold Williams, Singing the Living Tradition #471 with common adaptation

(Read on … )

Further exploring the ideas that come to mind when someone asks, “What is Unitarian Universalism, anyway?” I came across this snippet from a sermon by the Rev. Tony Johnson. Many people look to religion as a source of comfort, of solace, and even of escape from the “real” world. Rev. Johnson, I think, hits the nail on the head when he says that while our Unitarian Universalist churches do provide such comfort, the goal is not to draw people into our communities and keep them sheltered, but to prepare them to go back out into the world and do the work that must be done.

Rev. Johnson served the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Essex County, in Orange, NJ for nine years, and is now affiliated with the Community Church of New York, Unitarian Universalist.

Shelter from the Storm: Unitarian Universalism as a Safe Harbor

by Rev. Tony Johnson

I would suggest to you this morning that Unitarian Universalism is a religion for people who do not want too much safety in their religion. Maybe that’s not the best way to put it. How’s this? Unitarian Universalism is a religion for people who realize that life is just too complicated to make sense of with a single explanation, or that individuals and the world can be saved - whatever that means - by only one faith or path. We want shelter from the storm, but we know the truth of the words of the late mathematician and naval officer, Grace Murray Hopper: A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.

(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 … )

We delve back into history today, with words from Universalist preacher Hosea Ballou (April 30, 1771-June 7, 1852). This little gem can be found in his book, A Voice to Universalists, from 1849, which I found through a great list of Google-digitized books hosted by Scott Wells.

Remembering that the text dates to 1849, you may want to substitute gender- and deity-neutral language.

The Unity of the Spirit

by Hosea Ballou, from A Voice to Universalists, 1849

And why do Christians thus contend
  For items in their creeds?
An enemy, and not a friend,
  Sows these contentious seeds.
‘Twas love to God and love to man,
  The dear Redeemer brought;
No metaphysic doctrine can
  Compare with what he taught.
Why do we judge each other so?
  This judging genders strife;
It is enough our Lord to know,
  And feel his heavenly life.
What if my brother disagrees
  With me in certain things;
Yet strives by works of love to please,
  And fruit abundant brings?
Shall I disown a brother dear,
  For whom my Saviour died?
Can I be rilled with gospel fear,
  And walk in all this pride?
O may we learn to walk in love,
  In charity abound;
Possess those tempers of the dove,
  Which rather heal than wound.

Source: “The Unity of the Spirit,” from A Voice to Universalists, 1849, by Hosea Ballou

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 … )

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 … )

It is quite impossible to summarize the importance of William Ellery Channing to the early Unitarian movement, so I encourage you to read the excellent biography on the Unitarian Universalist Historical Society’s Biographies pages for more information.

This small piece of writing, among all his wonderful sermons, essays and orations, has long resonated with me — I think I read it during my first year as a member of a Unitarian Universalist church, and it solidified to me that I was, indeed, in the right place.

UPDATE: Though I still highly recommend that you read about William Ellery Channing at the above link, I mistakenly attributed this poem to him instead of his nephew, William Henry Channing. Lot of talent in that family! You can read a little bit about William Henry at Wikipedia.

My Symphony

by Rev. William Henry Channing (1810-1884)

To live content with small means.
To seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion.
To be worthy not respectable,
and wealthy not rich.
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently,
act frankly, to listen to stars, birds, babes,
and sages with open heart, to bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual,
unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.

Source: Rev. William Henry Channing, “My Symphony,” quoted in numerous places including transcendentalists.com.

This piece needs no introduction:

Out From Walden

By Rev. Dr. Patrick T. O’Neill

2005 Sermon of the Living Tradition
Delivered at The Service of the Living Tradition
At The General Assembly of the UUA
Ft. Worth, Texas June 24, 2005

Dedication:
Listed among the roll of ministers remembered this evening in the year of their death is the name of my first Unitarian Universalist minister, the Rev. David Osborn, whose wife and partner for his many years of ministry, Janet, also died this year. Some thirty-three years ago, it was at their dinner table in Oradell, NJ, that I first shared my secret longing to become a minister. I dedicate this sermon in love and everlasting gratitude to David and Janet’s memory.

The Sermon:
When I found myself enrolled in theological school in Chicago a year after that fateful, confessional dinner at the Osborns’ home, our great UU professor James Luther Adams reminded us in his church history class that the word “tradition” in church history can be translated with two very different meanings in Latin. The first root word of tradition is “traditum,” a heavy-sounding word, which means “the unchanging inherited weight and authority of history.”

But a second, much lighter translation of tradition is the Latin word, “traditio,” meaning “a sense of the living customs of a community; the ongoing creative dance of ever-evolving meaning and practice.”

As illustration of the difference between Traditum and Traditio, JLA offered us the larger-than-life example of Tevya, the devout dairyman of Anatevka, in Fiddler on the Roof. When first we meet Tevya, he explains to us that Tradition – the heavy obligation of Traditum – determines virtually every aspect of his family’s life and his life as a man, as a husband, and absolutely as a Papa.

But as the story unfolds, we watch how this good man’s tradition-bound heart is repeatedly and ultimately challenged and overruled by his love for his three daughters, and we listen in on his anxious conversations with God as his independent-minded daughters, one by one, teach him the primacy of love over custom, teach him to choose L’Chaim, Life, the dance of traditio, as the highest ultimate reckoning with his heritage. As he explains to God his daughter Tzeitel’s decision to marry for love rather than by arrangement: “They gave each other a pledge- unthinkable. But look at my daughter’s face-how she loves him….and look at my daughters eyes, so hopeful.”

Tradition!

(Read on … )

A midweek reflection on prayer seems appropriate — I know my work week seems to culminate on Wednesdays and I need a reminder every once in awhile to just breathe.

Unitarian Universalists have many different approaches to prayer. Since we as a movement don’t have a creed stipulating the existence of any particular god or gods, many wonder who we might be praying to. The Rev. Jenny Rankin from First Parish in Concord, MA, has a wonderful reflection on this very question. (Note — the fabulously poetry-like line breaks are her own.)

Pray without Ceasing: Creativity, Spirituality and Prayer

Written by Rev. Jenny M. Rankin, First Parish in Concord, MA
Sunday, February 4, 2007

We met in the parlor of the church last week
And it was quiet.
Mid week, mid winter, mid day
We sat in a circle,
Mostly women, one brave gentleman,
We sat,
Working with our hands on whatever we had brought
A scarf to knit, a block of a quilt to sew, a rug to braid.
In the parlor.
The room is warm and quiet,
the colors of the rug are rich and red.
It’s easy to lose track of time there,
Easy to lose track of lists and schedules and
All that seems so urgent in the world outside.
It is peaceful in this circle,
With the clock ticking,
Our hands moving,
And silence all around.

* * * * * *

(Read on … )