The Flower Communion, introduced by Czech minister Norbert Capek, is one of Unitarian Universalism’s most beloved rituals. Usually held in the spring, and in many congregations as the last service of the “regular” church year before either recessing for the summer or paring down Sunday services, the Flower Communion holds rich symbolism for our faith communities.

The Rev. Susan Manker-Seale, serving the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Northwest Tucson, Arizona, preached this sermon about the Rev. Norbert Capek’s life and gifts to our modern Unitarian Universalist faith for their own celebration of this ritual on June 11, 2000. It is a powerful story of a life lived truly, “out loud.”

Capek’s Gift: The Flower Communion

by the Rev. Susan Manker-Seale

We don’t have a lot of Unitarian martyrs. There is Michael Servetus, a Unitarian Spaniard burned at the stake in the midst of the reformation of the sixteenth century for writing his book On the Errors of the Trinity. There is Francis David, Unitarian Bishop of Transylvania, who perished in prison after the Unitarian King John Sigismund died and orthodox views regained power, this also in the sixteenth century. Then, though there has been much persecution toward Unitarians, we don’t hold any more martyrs in popular Unitarian history until we come to the twentieth century and the Czechoslovakian Unitarian, the Rev. Norbert Fabian Capek. Capek was imprisoned by the Nazis for listening to foreign radio broadcasts and preaching freedom. He eventually was sent to Dachau and was gassed at Hartheim Castle in 1942.

Seven of his letters from prison survived. Ten of his eleven children, I believe, survived. He is remembered by his grandchildren, and by the Unitarian congregation he founded, The Prague Congregation of Liberal Religious Fellowship, which numbered in the thousands of members. He is also remembered here in the United States, because every year Unitarian Universalists celebrate the Flower Communion Service, a service Capek created and which, like the flaming chalice symbol of the Unitarian Service Committee, has taken hold in the hearts of our congregations.

(Read on … )

Unitarian Universalists make much of our intellectual tendencies, our “deep thoughts.” But our tenets strive to honor the whole person, mind and physical body alike.

In this sermon from October of 2007, the Rev. Jan Nielsen, serving the Universalist Church of West Hartford, Connecticut, reflects on the value of honoring our bodies in our spiritual lives. Honoring the body, she argues, can become a spiritual practice that leads to a deeper commitment to living one’s religious values.

Honoring the Body

by Rev. Jan Nielsen

The first time I ever danced in public was at school, in the fifth grade. I don’t remember exactly why we were dancing at school; it must have been an indoor recess on a rainy day. But I do remember very clearly what happened that autumn day. When I danced, a bunch of the other kids laughed, loudly. As the new kid in school, eleven years old and desperate to fit in, I was mortified. I loved to dance at home, in the privacy of my bedroom, but after that day, I swore I’d never dance in public again.

By the time I got to junior high, I did dance in public, at football games, while I twirled a baton. Title IX may have been the law of the land, but in the Arkansas schools, all the money still went to boy’s sports, big time. A girl could be a cheerleader, a majorette (my choice), or sit on the sidelines. For girls, there was no soccer, no softball, no basketball, no running, no nothing. (I used to shoot baskets in our hayloft wishing I could play on a team, all 5’4” of me.) What physical education classes we had were a joke, and they weren’t required. Big time injustice, if you ask me, but no one ever asked us girls.

(Read on … )

A visual and contemplative treat for today: an exploration of Unitarian Universalist labyrinths.

Many Unitarian Universalists find the practice of walking a labyrinth to be extremely fulfilling, and many of our congregations have permanent labyrinths in or near their buildings.

The Unitarian Universalist Church of Oak Cliff in Dallas, Texas, has a beautiful setting for theirs:

“Though circular in design, the four directions have been consulted. The opening is to the east, it also is the exit. Here is the place to pause, to wait, to think or empty out your thoughts. Then step within and let the pathway guide your feet while your mind is elsewhere occupied. There is no must or should, as your experience will be unique.”

The Unitarian Universalist Church of Elgin, Illinois hosts the Earth-Wisdom Labyrinth, modeled after the famous 11-circuit design laid into the floor of the medieval cathedral at Chartres, France:

Rev. Dan Brosier says, “The labyrinth is here to keep the spiritual dialogue open—to be a reminder that there are a number of paths to the sacred.”

This one was spotted at the Unitarian Church in Princes Street, Cork, Ireland:

Other congregations have come up with not so permanent ways to enjoy the spiritual benefits of a labyrinth, such as the Unitarian Universalist Church of Arlington, Virginia, who have reproduced the Chartres pattern on canvas:

When we lived in Milwaukee, I had a chance to walk either this canvas labyrinth on loan or one exactly like it. It was set up in the upper chapel, and provided a wonderful, although needfully temporary, experience.

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 morning, a sermon about Buddhist practice in a Unitarian Universalist context, from the Rev. Wayne Arnason. There has been a recent buzz around UUs exploring Buddhism, including much of the Summer 2007 issue of the UUWorld Magazine, and the much respected work of Rev. James Ishmael Ford, who blogs at Monkey Mind.

What strikes me about this sermon is how Rev. Arnason describes his everyday practice in very real terms, in such an accessible manner as to demystify this very spiritual mindset, while at the same time deepening my understanding of it. Rev. Arnason serves as co-minister at West Shore Unitarian Universalist Church in Rocky River, Ohio.

Four Impossible Things Before Breakfast

by The Rev. Wayne B. Arnason

Every morning after I do my Zen meditation practice, I vow to do four impossible things before going on to exercise and breakfast. The four impossible things include saving all beings, extinguishing all desires, mastering all opportunities to realize Buddhist teachings, and attaining enlightenment. The way I make these promises is through chanting the Great Vows, which in different languages and in different translations within different languages are chanted around the world in Buddhist communities and monasteries at least once in every day.

In the version used at my sangha at Zen Mountain Monastery in New York, they are chanted at the end of each day in the monotone style that is part of Japanese Zen liturgy. They sound like this:

“Sentient beings are numberless, I vow to save them,

“Desires are inexhaustible, I vow to put an end to them,

“The dharmas are boundless, I vow to master them,

“The Buddha Way is unattainable, I vow to attain it.”

Now, is this goofy or what??

(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 … )

The Rev. Jen Crow delivered this sermon to the First Unitarian Church of Rochester in July of 2005. I find her reclaiming of the word and very concept of “God” to be powerful and provocative.

Rev. Crow has also created a marvelous “Soul Deepening” program at her church called Wellspring. The website states, “Wellspring is based on the concept of a five spoke wheel that keeps spiritual seekers in balance and spinning with grounded principles. The five spokes are: spiritual practice, spiritual direction, covenant groups, UU history and theology and faith in action.” In addition to the full curriculum, there is also a blog at the site focused on spiritual practice. Good reading.

Her presentation at General Assembly in Portland with two lay-leader facilitators was extremely well attended, and I felt privileged to just sit on the floor at the front of the room. I’m already bugging that minister I know to get the program going in his church ASAP.

Enjoy:

Wholly, Holy, Holey

Rev. Jen Crow, Associate Minister, First Unitarian Church of Rochester, NY, July 17, 2005

Several years ago, during my ministerial internship at Unity Church — Unitarian in St. Paul, Minnesota, I sat with one of my mentors in his study. For weeks, we had discussed my spiritual practice of prayer — how often did I pray, he asked, what did I pray for, how did the act of praying feel, why did I return to it day after day and night after night. Each week the questions got a little bit harder, and I began to both welcome and fear my time in that office.

On this particular morning, my mentor asked me to offer a sermon to the congregation on my spiritual practice and how it impacted my life. A seemingly reasonable request, you might think, but the butterflies began working in my stomach immediately. In that moment, I wanted to push my friend away, push the question away, push even my own life-saving experiences away — anything to save myself from the admission there before someone I respected that I did not know why prayer had worked in my life, that I did not know exactly whom I was praying to or if that entity - if it was indeed an entity — heard my prayers or had any power to impact my life.

(Read on … )