Unitarian Universalist Meeting of South Berkshire

November 12, 2006

Sermon: “Celebrating 10 Years of Joy”

Grace Note: “Children’s Reflections”

Rev. Kathy Duhon

Children’s Reflections

Our children and youth have always been at the center of our congregation’s life, are greatly valued, and make unique contributions. Not only do they bring their marvelous selves into our midst, a joy in itself, but they have always led us in various service and outreach projects. For nursing homes, a dog shelter, the Children’s Health Program, our sponsored child in Nepal, some Tibetan Buddhist nuns, and more, they have baked cookies, sponsored drives, made gifts, and gone visiting. They have prepared and served food for the needy, helped us build homes in Central America with Habitat for Humanity, and taught us how to treat the environment better. Each year we have a couple of terrific services that are largely created and given to us by our children and youth and their adult mentors. They have played instruments brilliantly and sung like angels. If pride is a sin, then we sin mightily when it comes to our children and youth.

For the 10^th anniversary, we asked the children in our religious education program a couple of questions: ‘What is your favorite thing about our congregation?’ and ‘What have you learned about religion?’ Here are their responses.

Many of them named the holiday pageant as a favorite activity, which is also one of the congregation’s favorite gifts from our children. They love the craft projects and songs and music they have in class. “Togetherness” was another favorite, they said, and being involved in causes that help bring justice. One talked about loving the multi-generational aspect of our services, that all people could participate. They also like the potluck suppers, when everyone sits down together for a meal.

When asked what they had learned, they talked about caring for the earth, especially the plants. They talked about religions, how there are many different valued religions, and that everybody has their own religion. Sometimes you’re born into a religion and sometimes you pick your religion, they said, and in our religion, everyone gets to play a part. They have noticed that people share their lives in the sermons, as well as sharing goals and projects, and they believe those are good parts of our religion.

I thank the children and youth for sharing their reflections and their lives, both in these recent thoughts, and over the years. You inspire us.

Celebrating 10 Years of Joy

I’ll start with a joke about ourselves, since this is a celebration of our joy, and since Unitarian Universalists enjoy telling jokes about themselves. Actually, this is a true story and involves a man who worshipped at many congregations in this town, Lucien Aigner. He was a member here at the First Congregational Church, but he also visited our 5:00 p.m. services quite often before he died. Ten years ago in the spring, we were meeting in a small chapel at St. James and something odd happened to Lucien during a service led by Lisa and Mark.

We had the practice then of having some form of Unitarian Universalist communion every month, whether with flowers or water or cookies or apple cider or tea or rocks or salt – any element could serve as a deep and tangible symbol of our connectedness, our communion with each other and with the all in all. Lisa and Mark led us in a beautiful communion which included maple sap to drink and little potting containers of dirt with a seed in them for us to bring home and enjoy – the harbingers of beauty and growth. Lucien, being used to Christian Communion, received that tiny pot of dirt with reverence, and in his own serious act of sacredness, (although perhaps a little perplexed), he did what he usually did – he raised that communion to his lips and took a holy bite of what he was offered. Only then did he realize that it was nowhere near to being a ‘host’, and, he immediately worried that now he would be the ‘host’ for some insect, disease or pesticide, but it was only good clean dirt. And after the dust settled, so to speak, we could laugh. We find joyful communion together. Welcome to this wonderful celebration of our beloved community’s 10 years of joy.

One of our marvelous ministers, Rosemary Bray McNatt, began a recent sermon, “So, what do you get when you bring together a Pentecostal and an evangelical Baptist and a Roman Catholic and a Unitarian Universalist and an agnostic and seat them at a dining room table? Well, you get my family of origin at Thanksgiving.” While they eat until they cannot move, her family loves to talk about religion and politics, and they differ widely on both. She went on to explain that our congregations are spiritual communities of choice which can feel like big, divergent families, who don’t always agree, but who love each other and share the enjoyment of “trying to figure out why we’re all here, and what we’re meant to do…” We are here today gathered at the table of a multi-blended family fellowship, where friends have joined us for this celebration. Here is the welcome table of religious faith where our love guarantees our joy. I am so glad you are all here.

I want to take you back to the beginning, but not to the first service which you may read about, when 6 of us met in my living room in July 1995; and not to the charter Sunday, when we gathered as a congregation 10 years and 2 days ago. No, for me, there is another beginning that is the moment when I recognized the joy of beloved belonging together as a congregation. Surprisingly, it came during my deepest grief.

Only a week and a half after our little group had begun, my brother Brad was killed in an accident nearby. I was devastated, in shock, and not in any shape to think about continuing some crazy idea I’d had about starting a congregation in South Berkshire. By all rights, this budding possibility should have been buried with my grief. We had already decided to skip a Sunday, which turned out to be the weekend of Brad’s funeral, so it was a week and a half from his death until the next service, in my living room, which Erica had volunteered to lead. I imagine that most everyone expected me to call it off. Then came the invitation.

I don’t remember when I saw Joan, one of the original 6 – at the reception after the funeral, or later as we grieved together – but she said as we parted, “See you next Sunday.” That was one of the greatest invitations I have ever received – “see you next Sunday”. Of course. I would be with that beloved community of faith which already existed, although we’d only met twice, that budding congregation who would hold me and others in our dark times. Janie also grieved her mother in those early days, and many have come to us over the years after they experienced a sad loss or a painful suffering in their lives, and this congregation has offered consolation. Of course: “see you next Sunday”, and all those Sundays since. In the midst of my profound despair, I knew the joy of love and connection, and a faithfulness that transcends all suffering.

Joy is the deep root of our religion. That may sound fluffy, or a bit conceited, or even unfeeling and out of touch, but truly, joy is the wellspring of all religion, not just this congregation’s experience. By joy, I don’t mean fun or some surface happiness, but the miracle of well-being that a life lived centered in the midst of the “Universal Immanent Spirit whose nature is love”[1] gives us. We have a deep responsibility to seek and create joy. Rejoice! Be joyful!

Why do we find it so difficult to rejoice, to live a ‘don’t worry, be happy’ existence, as the Rastafarians say. Marianne Williamson writes that “A hidden belief many of us hold is that there is something wrong with being too happy. We have been taught that it’s arrogant to think we’re deserving of total happiness. If anything comes into our lives – love, success, happiness – which seems like it would be suited to a ‘deserving’ person, we conclude it can’t possibly be for us.

“We have been unable to accept joy,” she writes, “because it doesn’t match who we think we are….”

Who do we think we are? Let’s hope not ‘deserving’ or ‘undeserving’ – what an impoverished way people often choose to see their lives. Who do we think we are? We have only been playing church for 10 years, (playfully figuring out how to be a congregation, I should say), and we think that’s worthy of a blow-out celebration? Who do we think we are, all of us gathered here in this sacred time and beautiful space, just who do we think we are to accept this joy into our lives? We are glorious. Every now and then, especially when we gather together in blessed community, at the welcome table of our faith, we can actually get a glimmer, a taste of the glorious, awesome beings that we truly are. How can we help but smile and feel the joy that tickles us from head to toe?

In these last few years, however, our world has changed in ways that make it hard to even consider being glorious as human beings; our world has shifted drastically in ways that threaten meaningful peace on every level, everywhere – how can we seek transforming joy now? From our global sense of being terrorized and our personal feelings of being abandoned, to our sense of despair, unworthiness, and just wanting to drop - it - all, to run away, we live in a world that often feels like the antithesis of joy.

The sad truth is that the looming of devastation has always been with us across the millenniums, in waves that sometimes feel like tsunamis, and other times tug at us like dangerous undertows. The apocalyptic mindset that a terrible end time is upon us is thousands of years old, and is also as recent as our fears of the destruction of our planet by nuclear war or pollution. What do we do in the face of impending doom?

Jesus faced apocalyptic fears in his own day. The first recorded sermon that he preached was based on Isaiah and comes from that same section we heard today about going out in joy and being led back in peace. A little later Isaiah speaks about the good news for the poor and the release of captives and the healing of our blindness and the freedom for those oppressed. And Jesus preached to his people about Isaiah’s prophetic words, saying that this is not ancient history, or some impossible fairy tale. This is being accomplished today, right now. Good news and healing and love and freedom abide where we live it. Jesus brought joy, brings joy to his followers. “I have said these things” he declared, “so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

Biblical scholars explain that Jesus had a good sense of humor, which we tend to miss in how we read the Bible. Personally, I love the picture of Jesus laughing that hangs in this church’s pastoral study. His face is infused with a deep, hearty belly laugh.

Jesus wasn’t the only champion of joy. The laughing Buddha comes to mind, who said, “Joy comes not through possession or ownership but through a wise and loving heart.” The great leader of Hinduism, Mahatma Gandhi, said, “No sacrifice is worth the name unless it is a joy.” Paramhansa Yogananda, the first yoga teacher in America, said, “From joy I came. For joy I live. And in sacred joy I shall melt again.”

Some of our joy in this religion comes from being a living tradition which draws from many sources, and so we grow and are transformed by a variety of religious teachings and practices. We have an endless treasure chest, and I want to draw now from that trove of our six named sources and what they have meant to our congregation.

Our first source is the “direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces that create and uphold life.” In our congregation, we have always listened to each other attempt, albeit with the poverty of language, to explain what it means to have a direct experience of transcending mystery and wonder. What a gift! But not one I can share without embarrassing someone, so let me tell you about another way we have renewed the spirit of wonder at creation.

Since our very beginning, we have hiked together, and I have never heard of another congregation whose fellowship time always includes hiking. Who remembers meeting at 6:30 a.m. at Diane’s Trail, or when Laura pointed out a certain butterfly, or Sue turned our eyes upwards, toward an eagle? Bob always let us know just why those particular kind of trees were the ones gracing our paths. The most recent hike was far afield, in Concord, and a few hearty UUs followed in the footsteps of Unitarian Henry David Thoreau around Walden Pond, with Jose as their guide. As a special treat, Jose read the words of Thoreau at different points along the path, including these words, at the cabin site, with a re-enactment by Tom.

“I love a broad margin to my life. Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, [No, Tom did not re-enact that part] I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon, rapt in revery, amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang around or flitted noiselessly through the house, until by the sun falling in at my west window, or the noise of some traveler’s wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time. I grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance.”

Our hikes together and quiet times in nature have been such precious time, opening us to the joyful renewal of the spirit.

The second source we name is this: “Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice and compassion, and the transforming power of love.” In our third year together, I did my first sermon series on prophetic women and men, for three Sundays in a row, in preparation for the civil disobedience Anna and I were about to do in response to our country’s teaching of torture at the School of the Americas – and that was in 1998. Since then, in this congregation, we have often met together at demonstrations, vigils and walks for peace and justice. We have sponsored forums and talks and classes and films to educate us and others, and there have been many, many committee meetings to carry on this prophetic work. And no matter whether it was our Earth Day event or our ‘get out the vote’ drive, or our standing on the side of love by lobbying for same sex marriage, we have been a strong force for justice, for compassion.

Most recently, last month, we went down to New Orleans with our Global Outreach team. We were responding to the prophetic words of those poor people drowning emotionally in the betrayal of their governments’ response to the ravages of Hurricane Katrina. We were energized by that service in the cause of justice and simple human decency. The prophetic power is huge – giving us the ability to do that awful gut-wrenching work of cleaning up the destruction, and inspiring us to go back and do it again. So stay tuned.

The third named source of our living tradition is “Wisdom from the world’s religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life”. Yes, we have been delighted to explore many different religious traditions, often inviting others to come and teach us, enlighten us, inspire us. If I try to name them all, I will get in trouble by leaving some out, but we have been greatly blessed and inspired by wisdom from the world’s religions.

The fourth source notices two religions in particular that are central to our religious heritage: “Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God’s love by loving our neighbors as ourselves.” Tall order. We celebrate the holiest days of both Judaism and Christianity – I have been known to invite everyone to become an “honorary Jew” or an “honorary Christian” as we delve deeply into the most precious experiences of these traditions. Two of my favorite such memories are centered on our children.

For our first Passover, we all fit around our dining room table and children read the parts for the youngest ones. What an amazing spirit rose up among us. I don’t know if we had summoned Moses or if Elijah was actually in the room, but it was powerful. We knew that we had been to the wilderness and through it to the Promised Land.

Last year, as has been so for many years, we have been graced with beautiful holiday pageants when the children bring us back to the manger, to the baby and the birth of Christianity and we are all reborn in the process. Such beauty and awe – we simply melt with joy.

The fifth source we name is this: “Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit.” This is precious to us. We don’t check our minds at the door. Our questions are always welcome. We refuse to worship false gods, which sometimes means that, for some of us, God is not relevant, and that is okay. Among us, we are atheists, agnostics and theists, believers, with myriad understandings of what the ultimate means to us. We don’t tend to be certain; we seek more than we find; and we share a sense of our only grounding being in humility before the wonder of it all. We have a wonderfully messy religion, but then, life is messy.

The Rev. Bill Schulz, a past president of the Unitarian Universalist Association and a Humanist, who has recently left being the Executive Director of Amnesty International, was asked about our religion years ago and gave an answer that helps us to grasp the Humanist side of our family. He said, “We believe that the glory of life is so great that it defies every attempt to squeeze it into a narrow category.” He suggested, “Live life with as much passion, integrity, and care as we can muster….”

The final named source of our living tradition is: “Spiritual teachings of Earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.” Underneath many of our Christian and Jewish religious traditions are much older, Earth-centered spiritualities, and it does not take much uncovering to find their power, and to honor and celebrate them. Dear to the heart of many of us is nature, and we want to live in its cycles and feel the turning of the year very deeply, and we also want to protect, sustain, and enjoy our beloved environment. From Alaska, Gwich’in elder Sarah James said, “We know that we are the Earth and the Earth is us…. The Creator put us (here) to take care of this part of the world.” As Unitarian Universalists, we know that the Earth gives us great joy – we live and breath from this center, and we dance the sacred circle of life.

This congregation has been a joyful means for exploring these sources of our living tradition. We find meaning here; we find something more for our lives. We find ourselves and each other and the Eternal, and that is quite awesome.

I seek joy, do you? Here, in this crazy, mixed up family of friends, we together go looking for our heart’s desire, and sometimes, it’s right here in our own backyard. This is the welcome table of religious faith where our love guarantees our joy. So may we be blessed with joy, the wellspring of all religion. Amen.