Dear President Obama

Dear President Obama,

At one point in your speech to the United Nations General Assembly from this past September, you quoted your predecessor Franklin Roosevelt, saying: “The structure of world peace cannot be the work of one man, one party, or one nation…. It cannot be a peace of large nations—or of small nations. It must be a peace which rests on the cooperative effort of the whole world.” “The choice is ours,” you said over and over to representatives of the gathered nations of the world. “We can be remembered as a generation that chose to drag the arguments of the 20th century into the 21st; that put off hard choices, refused to look ahead, failed to keep pace because we defined ourselves by what we were against instead of what we were for. Or we can be a generation that chooses to see the shoreline beyond the rough waters ahead; that comes together to serve the common interests of human beings….”

I hear this, and I can’t help but feel inspired. It’s the poem from your inauguration, where poet Elizabeth Alexander says,

What if the mightiest word is love?
Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light….

What if? We ask this as well, as Unitarian Universalists. What if more people affirmed the interdependent web of all existence, which applies as much to international affairs as to the natural world? What if more people affirmed the goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all? Love, casting a widening pool of light. These are values of my own religious tradition that I am hearing in you, and I am inspired.

That’s why I’m celebrating the message you’ve been bringing to the world in the past eleven months. You remind me of one of our Unitarian Universalist ancestors: Adlai Stevenson, Ambassador to the United Nations during the JFK administration and also candidate for President of the United States in 1952 and 1956. (As a brief aside, it’s said that when the Unitarian Universalist Association was formed in 1961, Stevenson wrote to the Rev. Dana McLean Greeley, its first president, “Congratulations on your election as president. I know from hearsay how satisfying that can be.”) Despite not winning the Presidency, he was a great visionary who said that “It is no longer possible—if it ever was—for local communities to be more secure than the surrounding world. Our ultimate security therefore lies in making the world more and more into a community.” That’s what Adlai Stevenson said, and it’s your message too, over and over again. The mightiest word of love. Not unilateralism and militarism as a first resort, but multilateralism and diplomacy. Interdependence in world community.

Thank you for spreading values we Unitarian Universalists affirm. It’s why I think that Unitarian Universalists everywhere (whatever their party affiliations might be, whether Democratic or Republican or Independent) will have something to cheer when, on December 10th, you are in Oslo, Norway, receiving the prize—a prize which you have said you will accept as a call to all nations to confront the common challenges of the 21st century. Warm congratulations to you!

I laughed when I heard about what happened right after you received the news. Your daughter Malia walked in and said, “Daddy, you won the Nobel Peace Prize, and it’s Bo’s birthday!” And then your other daughter Sasha added, “Plus, we have a three-day weekend coming up.” Kids, helping keep things in perspective. Although it sounds like you are doing fine with this on your own. “To be honest,” you said to reporters, “I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative figures who’ve been honored by the prize.” This is what you said.

Of course, the Nobel Committee disagrees. In announcing that you are the recipient, it said, “Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world’s attention and given its people hope for a better future.” “The question we have to ask,” said Nobel committee chair Thorbjorn Jagland, “is who has done the most in the previous year to enhance peace in the world. And who has done more than Barack Obama?”

It’s a controversial question—whether you have accomplished enough. Already, you have plunged into the rough waters of multiple tough issues: prohibiting the use of torture by the United States; ordering the prison at Guantanamo Bay closed; working on finding effective ways of rooting out al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan; stopping terrorism at its roots by promoting human rights, economic opportunity, and security in countries that are hurting; partnering with Russia to substantially reduce nuclear warheads and launchers; advancing the cause of two states—Israel and Palestine—living side by side in peace and security so that justice for all in the Middle East can become a reality; moving America from a bystander to a leader in international climate change negotiations; helping coordinate an international response of over $2 trillion in stimulus to bring the global economy back from the brink; and re-engaging the United Nations, joining the Human Rights Council, bringing America back to the world table. To the United Nations, in September, you said, “I have been in office for just nine months—though some days it seems a lot longer.” I wonder why. Definitely, you are not putting off any of the hard choices required to create a better world. You are plunging right in.

But I do understand why you still think you don’t deserve the award. It is only the beginning. You have only just begun. The world is still in the midst of rough waters. The shoreline is still far off. And yet, perhaps the award was given not so much to honor past accomplishment as future promise. Perhaps, as Stanford University scholar Clarence B. Jones suggests, the award is about strengthening your resolve as you go forward, encouraging you to see your vision through all the way to the very end. He saw this with Martin Luther King Jr., when he received the Peace Prize. MLK Jr. had been struggling with what to say about the Vietnam War—this man who had already fought extraordinary fights for justice and peace—and the Peace Prize convicted his conscience, pressed him to break his silence and speak out. “Just knowing that hunk of metal was in his bureau drawer,” says Clarence B. Jones, “forced someone as strong as Martin Luther King Jr. to publicly comment in a way he might otherwise not.” I think the world wants you to continue making the hard choices that need to be made. I think it wants you to stay strong, and to finish this ironman race you’ve started. As the New York Times put it, “Americans elected Mr. Obama because they wanted him to restore American values and leadership—and because they believed he could. The Nobel Prize … shows how many people around the world want the same thing.”

But this is not the first time that the Nobel Peace Prize Committee has acted contrary to popular expectations. I was fascinated to learn that an early Peace Prize controversy had to do with whether non-governmental peace activists only should receive the prize, rather than heads of state and politicians. Before 1905, only private peace activists had received the award. And then came 1906. The recipient was none other than American President Theodore Roosevelt, for his efforts in helping to negotiate an end to the war between Russia and Japan. People around the world screamed. What’s this? What’s this? they cried. Yet the Nobel Committee was ahead of the curve. It saw, after the turn of the century, how governments were increasingly promoting peaceful solutions for international disputes, and it wanted to encourage this even more. Private peace activists no longer owned the work exclusively. To ensure relevance for its prize, the committee risked changing with the times, together with the resulting wrath.

Today’s committee, I believe, took a similar risk. Said committee chair Thorbjorn Jagland, “Some people say—and I understand it—‘Isn’t it premature? Too early?’ Well, I’d say … that it could be too late to respond three years from now. It is now that we have the opportunity to respond—all of us.” American multilateralism and diplomacy can’t wait. America modeling the kind of leadership that needs to happen in every country around the world can’t wait. Hope can’t wait. The mightiest word of love has to happen now.

Clearly, honest confusion has surrounded this year’s award. But there’s been some real ugliness as well. I mean, it seems to me that when someone gets an amazing award like a Nobel Peace Prize, a reasonable response is delight. Good for you, President Obama! Good for you, America! Delight, even if people might not be sure exactly why you got the award. The not-knowing then becomes transformed into a positive curiosity to find out why—to discover just exactly what it is you have been saying and doing on the international scene that would merit such an award. Yet from some quarters you’ve seen the absolute opposite of curiosity and delight. New York Times columnist David Brooks, calling it a joke, saying, “Nobody cares what five Norwegian guys think”—demonstrating, regrettably, an arrogant disdain for the rest of the world that is part and parcel of ugly Americanism and cowboy diplomacy. Those five Norwegians (not all guys, by the way) see how you’ve single-handedly set a new tone throughout the world, and David Brooks thinks that this is a joke?

Reminds me of something I read in U. S. News and World Report a while back. An interview with Cullen Murphy, about his book entitled Are We Rome? The Fall of an Empire and the Fate of America. For a time, comparisons with Rome had been positive ones: the Pax Romana living anew in the Pax Americana, providing worldwide cultural benefits and worldwide security. But now the dominant view worries about America’s decline and compares symptoms of this to what people saw in Rome’s decline. And so the interviewer at one point says to Cullen Murphy, “You say there was an almost fatal parochialism among the Romans. Are we in danger of duplicating it?” Here’s Murphy’s reply: “I was looking the other day at one of the new Pew Center polls about ‘what Americans know.’ Americans in general aren’t that interested in, or aware of, the outside world, and increasingly even our elites don’t seem to put much stock in that kind of knowledge either. We don’t have [enough] Arabic speakers; the number of foreign correspondents continues to shrink. Compared with the Greeks, the Romans were not passionately interested in the outside world. And they were often taken by surprise. The great disaster suffered by Varus in Germany in A.D. 9, when three entire Roman legions were annihilated, stemmed partly from ignorance about the tribes they were up against.”

It’s been called “Omphalos syndrome”: the misguided belief that one’s nation and way of life is at the center (or navel) of the world. Rome had it, and suffered for it. America has it too, and we are suffering. We need to start caring about what five Norwegians think. We really do.

Ugly Americanism has come up in connection with your receiving the Peace Prize, and so has an all-consuming ugly cynicism. Writer H. L. Mencken once said, “A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.” This is definitely what some people have been doing around your award. Looking around for that coffin. Some of it is just blatantly racist—the presumption that the Peace Prize committee gave you the award just because you are the first African American president. And then there’s the cynicism summed up in something that Republican National Committee chairman Michael Steele said: you won because of “star power.” The world has a crush on you. Things are just in the honeymoon phase. It’s all illusion, smoke and mirrors.

Now, my congregation is listening in on this letter, so I say this to them as much as to you: that our Unitarian Universalist values transcend political parties. We are doing the best we can to stand on the side of love, that mightiest word, and part of our job is bringing prophetic critique to the public sphere when necessary, whether that sphere is Democratic or Republican, because our Unitarian Universalist values demand it. To be faithful to our religious call, there must be independence from political parties; we must be able to speak from out of a higher point of view of shared values. Today I bring warm congratulations to you, but when your policies and actions go contrary to our values, expect a different kind of letter. And if ever doing this becomes not OK in a Unitarian Universalist congregation—when my religion becomes a mere adjunct of the Democratic Party, and there’s absolutely no room for Republicans, or others, then I am out of here.

So when I call what Michael Steele is saying as cynical, I’m not trying to win one for the Democrats. I’m doing the best I can to speak up for that love which is

beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light….

But the “star power” comment takes the love you are trying to spread and tries to make it an unworthy thing. He’s trying to rebuild his political party, while you are trying to lead America into a new chapter of international cooperation. He says it’s just all words, but, first of all, words are a kind of action too—words change things. As a preacher, I have to believe this. Second, you know very we’ll that words alone are not enough. That’s why, over and over again, you say that “the future will be forged by deeds and not simply words,” that “the magnitude of our challenges has yet to be met by the measure of our actions.”

On the other hand, maybe some star power is exactly what we need right now. But here, I’m talking about power to forge international consensus and move the world’s conscience. It was something we saw lacking in the previous presidential administration—how President Bush squandered the world’s goodwill after 9/11. He started a war of choice with Iraq. On such critical global issues as arms control, torture, and climate change, he stepped back from the world table, disengaged, thumbed his nose at everyone. Unilateralism, cowboy diplomacy, Omphalos syndrome. But then came the genocide in Darfur, hundreds of thousands dead and millions displaced in waves of violence that showed no signs of abating. President Bush spoke movingly to this in 2007, at the U. S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington. “It is evil we are now seeing in Sudan—and we’re not going to back down.” He was exactly right. Yet his call went nowhere. Multilateralism and diplomacy was what solving the problem in Darfur required and continues to require—yet this had not been the established practice of the Bush administration. It was like singing a completely different tune. And then there was the accumulated skepticism and distrust of the world that drowned him out, made it impossible for his absolutely worthy message to be heard.

But it’s a different time now. How you’ve turning things around, in just eleven months, is why you’ve been awarded this year’s Nobel Peace Prize. The Committee wants you to see things through, this long journey you started. Your vision of four pillars, which are “fundamental to the future that we want for our children:” stopping the spread of nuclear weapons, pursuing peace, meeting the challenge of climate change, and the creation of a global economy that advances opportunity for all. “Now is the time,” you are saying, “for all of us to take our share of the responsibility for a global response to global challenges. […]The time has come to realize that the old habits, the old arguments, are irrelevant to the challenges faced by our people. They lead nations to act in opposition to the very goals that they claim to pursue…. They build up walls between us and the future that our people seek, and the time has come for those walls to come down.” The time has come. The choice is ours.

beyond marital, filial, national,
love casting a widening pool of light….

President Obama, I thank you for your inspired service, and I’ll be there with you in spirit when, on December 10th, you’re in Oslo receiving the prize. Thanks for asking What if? What if the mightiest word is love?

Sincerely,

Rev. Anthony David, Senior Minister
The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta

Planting Seeds of Soul: The Seed of Clear Thinking

I want to start out this morning by introducing you to a tongue-in-cheek syndrome called Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. Meditation teacher Warren Lee Cohen talks about this, in his book Raising the Soul. “This is how AAADD manifests itself: I decide to wash my car. As I start towards the garage, I notice that there is mail on the hall table. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car keys down on the table, put the junk mail in the trash can under the table, and notice that the trash can is full. So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the trash first. But then I think, since I’m going to be near the mailbox when I take out the trash anyway, I may as well pay the bills first. I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only one check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go to my desk where I find the can of Coke that I had been drinking. I’m going to look for my checks, but first I need to move the can of Coke aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. I notice the Coke is getting warm and decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold. As I head towards the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye. They need to be watered. I set the Coke down on the counter, and I discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning. I decide I’d better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly I spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we want to watch TV, we’ll be looking for the remote, but nobody will remember that it’s on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I’ll water the flowers. As I pour water on the flowers, some of it spills on the floor. So, I set the remote back down on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do. At the end of the day,” concludes Warren Lee Cohen, “the car isn’t washed, the bills aren’t paid, the trash hasn’t been taken out, there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter, there is still only one check in my checkbook, I can’t find the remote, I can’t find my glasses, and I don’t remember what I did with the car keys. Then when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I’m really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I’m really tired, but now it’s time to check my email.”

Can you relate? It’s Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. Busy all day long, but nothing really gets done, because it’s hard to maintain undivided attention on the task at hand. Hard to focus on just one thing at a time and not allow ourselves to be distracted by additional problems that inevitably pop up along the way.

And if it’s this way with the things in our outer world, how is it with the inner world of our thoughts?

The careful, deliberate, reasoned search for truth is a cornerstone of our free faith. Says the father of Unitarianism in America, William Ellery Channing, “Without … inward spiritual freedom outward liberty is of little worth. What [does it matter] that I am crushed by no foreign yoke if, through ignorance and vice, through selfishness and fear, I want the command of my own mind? The worst tyrants are those which establish themselves in our own breast. The man who wants force of principle and purpose is a slave, however free the air he breathes. The mind, after all, is our only possession, or, in other words, we possess all through its energy and enlargement.” That’s what the father of Unitarianism says. A capacity to be principled and purposeful in our thinking is simply basic to our way of faith. Without it, as we sail on OUR passenger ship, we’re lost. We can’t reliably read the signs of the times, nor discover what to do next. As Channing says, we fall prey to “a narrow, dark, confused intellect, which sees everything as through a mist, gives to everything the color of its own feelings, confines itself to what coincides with its wishes, contents itself with superficial views, and thus perpetually falls into errors….” This is not free faith. This is not who we are.

This morning, we tend to our most intimate relationship: the one we have with our thoughts. What are some of the tyrants that can establish themselves in us and muddle our thinking? And how might we develop our thinking so that it can be clearer? Today’s sermon is the second installment of the “Planting Seeds of Soul” series, so remember what I said last month about “wax on/wax off.” We’re going to learn our second “wax on/wax off” exercise today, to raise Unitarian Universalist soul in this place. That’s the goal.

But first: tyrants. One that comes immediately to mind is fallacious reasoning, or patterns of thinking that are bad according to logical standards but nevertheless make an impression on people who don’t know any better. Here’s an example of what I mean. I opened my Atlanta Journal-Constitution from yesterday and read that Georgia Congressman Nathan Deal “wants the president to prove he is an American citizen.” The article clarifies: “In June 2008, Obama’s campaign office released a digitally scanned image of his birth certificate … that shows he was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, on Aug, 4, 1961. Government officials in Hawaii have verified that the document is official. Yet Deal and others say they still have doubts.”

In any introductory level logic class, you’d learn that this is an textbook example of an ad hominem fallacy in formation, which tries to discredit a person’s policies and viewpoints not by presenting genuine evidence against them but by attacking the person, rendering his or her character so disgusting that no matter how good the policies are, no matter how penetrating the viewpoint, no one’s paying attention, no one’s listening. This is what the Birther movement hopes for, as it continues to nurture doubts about Obama’s citizenship status even in the face of an official birth certificate….

It’s just been one ad hominem attack after another. Fox News chairman Roger Ailes, joking about the similarity of Barack Obama’s name to that of the terrorist Osama bin Laden—and using the machinery of his organization to spread the joke around until it becomes no joke. Tea Party participants, carrying signs that feature Obama’s face with a Hitler mustache. A Thomas Sowell article, where he says, “Recent videos of American children in school singing songs of praise for Barack Obama were a little much, especially for those of us old enough to remember pictures of children singing the praises of dictators like Hitler, Stalin and Mao.” Do you see the steady building pattern of character assassination here? And too many Americans are completely persuaded by it, too many Americans vulnerable. The tyrant of fallacious reasoning, securing a place in our minds, and we don’t know any better. Not as a Democrat, but as an American, does this concern me, for how can I think about what President Obama is trying to do when psychological strings are being pulled and I can’t think straight? It’s horrible for democracy.

It’s definitely been horrible for reasoned debate about health care reform. Ad hominem fallacies one after another, together with others kind of fallacies. How about this one. I spotted it in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution just a few days ago: “Opponents Rally Against Health Care Bill”: 35 year-old David Seward, saying, “I think health care is expensive, but I like it and I’m scared to death of the government running it … I’m worried about the bureaucracy of the federal government getting involved.” This is what he says, and besides his completely ignoring the fact that government-run Medicare is a great success, do you see the underlying false dichotomy? It’s either big government or small government, and no other alternatives are possible…. Yet the issue is not so much big government vs. small government as the right amount of government really needed to solve the problem, to cut through the greed and the waste of the third-party payer medical-industrial complex. Big government vs. small government doesn’t tell the whole truth about how to solve this problem.

I could go on and on—all the kinds of fallacious thinking that have muddied up the debate around health care reform. Rep. Candace Miller from Michigan, commenting on yesterday’s passage of the health care bill in the House, saying, “We are going to have a complete government takeover of our health care system faster than you can say, `this is making me sick,’” adding that Democrats are intent on passing “a jobs-killing, tax-hiking, deficit-exploding” bill. Sounds like a classic slippery-slope argument to me, one that says that if government takes action to reform the health care system, if it sets a public option side-by-side with multiple private options and enables some REAL competition to take place, then all of a sudden, down the slippery-slope slide we go, and all sorts of horrible, fateful consequences are sure to follow. A classic appeal to fear. I don’t care what political party you belong to. I don’t care which president is in the White House. To me, manipulative language—Republican or Democratic—doesn’t help to create a great country. “Civil institutions,” said William Ellery Channing, “are to be estimated by the free and pure minds to which they give birth.” But our institutions are not being civil, and our minds must struggle against great odds to be free and pure. What would Channing say, if he could see what we see today?

This leads us to a second inner tyrant to become aware of. Besides the tyrant of fallacious reasoning, there is the tyrant of hyperconnectedness in our interactive, digital world. Here, we become experts in skimming and scanning as we flit from Facebook to text message to email to video game—and this can leave our ability to bring a full attention to one thing at a time severely underdeveloped. It can make us unfit to think great thoughts.

Marilee Sprenger talks about this in her wonderful article entitled “Focusing the Digital Brain.” “Let’s look,” she says, “at what happens in the brain of Emily, an average teenager, as she thinks she is focusing on a homework assignment. Emily sits in front of her laptop. Her iPod is playing music by Coldplay. She has three windows open on her computer screen: her Web browser through America Online, MSN Messenger for sending instant messages and e-mail, and her word processing program. Her homework is to write about five causes of the U.S. Civil War.

As Emily is putting her heading on her paper, her cell phone rings. She quickly picks up her phone and a picture of her friend Ivy appears on the screen. ‘Hi Ivy, what’s up?’

‘You’re not going to believe who texted me,’ Ivy says. Emily squeals as she hears the name of someone Ivy is interested in dating. Just then Emily’s computer flashes, ‘You’ve got mail!’ The executive part of her brain drops the conversation with Ivy as she reads a new e-mail from another classmate asking for the homework assignment. Emily answers the e-mail as Ivy rambles on, but she realizes she should get back to work. ‘I’ll text you later, Ivy. I have to get some work done.’

Emily shifts her attention back to the word processing screen. Let’s see, where was I? Her brain must let the snippets of social conversation drop out of her working memory. Attending to the assignment causes Emily’s brain to retrieve long-term memories of her readings and lectures on the Civil War. As she begins to think about the differences between the North and the South before the Civil War, her mind drifts to picturing Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind.

Refocusing takes several seconds as she remembers what Mr. Montgomery told them in class about slavery. Emily types ‘causes of the Civil War’ into Google. Immediately, 12,900,000 hits come up. She clicks on the first link, realizes it doesn’t have any information she is looking for, and tries the next Web site.

Immersed in her search, she is startled by a jangle from her Blackberry. Emily sees Jackson’s text message ‘What r u doing?’ Jackson is Emily’s new love interest, so her brain floods with pleasurable chemicals as she types her reply—these chemicals make it hard to return to homework.

So it goes among the net generation. Multitasking? Not many tasks are getting done.”

Now, I quote Marilee Sprenger at length not to pick on the net generation—after all, I openly confess that I myself have a serious case of Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. In fact, whatever generation we happen to be in—whatever degree of proficiency is ours in up-to-date communication technologies—it seems that the general tenor of the times is rush and gush. Continuous partial attention. How are we going to do the deeply spiritual work of thinking clearly when we have a limited capacity for patience to follow a chain of thoughts from beginning to end—to resist interruption—to focus on one thing and allow it to unfold its secrets?

“[H]onesty of mind,” says William Ellery Channing, “bears an exact proportion to the patience, steadiness, and resolution with which we inquire.” And that’s exactly what we turn to now. Developing this patience, this steadiness, this resolution. How?

Our wax-on/wax off spiritual exercise for this month—for those of you who choose to practice it with me—is “about learning how to cultivate interest in even the most mundane object and by maintaining your undivided attention on it to increase your ability to focus on anything. This is a step in learning how to give your attention freely and completely, whatever and whenever you should choose.” (Warren Lee Cohen).

Four steps:

Step one: Choose a simple, human-made object—an object manufactured rather than one found in nature, like a cup, or a pencil, a pin, a pair of chopsticks. Warren Lee Cohen, the source of this and all the other exercises, says that the less interesting your object appears at first, the more powerful the effects of deliberately focusing on it.

Also be clear on how many objects you’ll focus on over the course of the upcoming month, and for how long each session will be. I’d recommend one object per week, for around 5 to 10 minutes, at the same time every day. Make the decision, and lay out your plan clearly in your journal. Warren Lee Cohen tells the story of a man who spent 20 years contemplating the same pair of wooden chopsticks. Each and every day, he was able to find something new and interesting to think about; and clearly, it wasn’t the chopsticks that were changing—it was him, the quality of attention he was bringing to them. If he can contemplate the same pair of chopsticks for 20 years, surely we can contemplate the same object for a week, at 10 minutes a pop….

That’s step one. Step two is when you’re actually ready to do the exercise. Situate yourself in a comfortable place, and prepare yourself for the exercise by relaxing your body, calming your mind, just like an athlete stretching before a workout, or a musician tuning up an instrument.

Step three is to place before your mind this object that you have chosen to contemplate. This object that, initially, appears boring: A cup, a pencil, a pin. Train your thinking exclusively on this object in a clear and factual way. Focus on one fact and then link it to the next—in step by step fashion, follow your thinking as you deepen your understanding and interest in this simple, ordinary, human-made thing.

For example, say you choose to focus on a pencil. (Thoreau would like that—he was a pencil maker, you know…) You might start by describe how the pencil appears and of what materials it’s made. Then you might go on to describe how these materials were processed to get them into this form—to think through all the stages of manufacture. Then you might go on to consider how the object is used. Then you might think about who invented it, and how its invention is connected with the invention of other similar things. And so on—inquire with patience, steadiness, and resolution….

Notice that in this approach, you just jump right in. But there are alternative approaches to keep in mind. Do the one that works best for you. One alternative is to do a little research about your object first, before you start thinking about it. Another alternative is to do no research in advance but to develop questions naturally through the course of your own thought processes and then, when the time feels right, seek out answers through research. Enriched by that, return to the object and keep on thinking about it, keep on going deeper.

Finally, there’s step four. When your five or ten minutes is done, review the general direction of your thinking. What was the initial fact that grabbed your attention? Where did you go from there?

And this is the exercise. Do it along with the “review of the day” that I introduced last month. “Even if you cannot slow down the pace of your life,” says Warren Lee Cohen, “you can create regular moments of slowness or concentration each day. These can then become seeds, essential reminders of the qualities you would like to cultivate more in life.” That’s right. We’re planting seeds of soul. They look small—focusing on a boring-looking object for 10 minutes seems small—but if we do the exercises faithfully, the results will be big. Will strengthen our minds against manipulation. Will counteract Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder and counterbalance the continuous partial attention of the digital brain. “The mind, after all, is our only possession,” says William Ellery Channing; “we possess all through its energy and enlargement.” So let us energize and enlarge it. Make Channing proud!

Remarks at a Healthcare Reform Prayer Rally, sponsored by Atlantans Building Leadership for Empowerment (ABLE)

“Of all forms of inequality,” said Martin Luther King, “injustice in health care is the most shocking and inhumane.” We need a world that works better for all, not just some. And I know that the way there involves figuring out so many details. But this is not a time to peck our vision of a better America to death with an endless number of “how” questions. How this, how that. You can stall anything by demanding to know every detail up front. In the case of health care reform, the answer to how is YES. We need to take advantage of this historic opportunity to create real change to the status quo. The answer is YES.

But we face tremendous obstacles. Reminds me of an old story by Aesop, about a man and his son taking a donkey to market. Didn’t matter what they did, they did it wrong. Bystanders screaming at them. Mocking and jeering. Don’t let the donkey go without a rider—what’s a donkey for, but to ride upon? The boy shouldn’t ride while his father walks—it’s disrespectful! The father shouldn’t ride—what about his poor little son? Scoffing and jeering like this. By this time the boy and his father don’t know what to do—they are besides themselves. They try something different—both ride the donkey—but the complaints still come: this time they are being cruel to animals. The boy and his father think hard—how can we make sure that no one is going to be dissatisfied by what we do? And then the solution hits them. They cut down a pole, tie the donkey’s feet to it, raise the pole and the donkey to their shoulders, start walking. When they get to the Market Bridge, the donkey gets one of his feet loose, kicks out and causes the boy to drop his end of the pole. In the struggle, the donkey falls over the bridge, and because his forefeet are tied together, he drowns. Please all, and you will please none.

I’m thinking about this story today. We need to bring quality, affordable health care to market. We need to get it safely across the Market Bridge, get it there all in one piece, don’t allow ourselves to go to crazy lengths to please everyone, don’t allow ourselves to be dismayed or discouraged by bystanders along the way who are saying one thing and then saying another thing. Blue dog Democrats who criticize the public health insurance option, even though this is truly the tactic that will create the most change and challenge the greed of the medical-industrial complex. Then there’s the right-wing propaganda machine—screamers on talk radio and Fox News—spewing out lies about death panels and government take-overs and how reform is going to ruin the economy and mortgage our country’s financial future. And then there’s the gullibility of people who believe the lies. All of these represent bystanders telling President Obama and telling the Democrats that that they are doing it wrong. But it’s the Democrats who are wanting to get that donkey to market. Leaders in this country have been trying to get that donkey for almost a hundred years now. And now is the time.

Clearly, health care reform—especially with the public option—is not going to please everyone. It’s absolutely not going to please Republicans and right wingers who care more about ruining Obama and galvanizing their party than doing the right thing. It’s absolutely not going to please insurance companies who speak out of both sides of their mouths, saying that they want to ensure a competitive market but then refusing to see how the public option will do just that. My prayer is that we don’t fall all over ourselves to please these groups. Got to love them—they are children of God like we are. But we have to be strong in our resolve. We have to bring that donkey straight to market. Get it across Market Bridge safely. The answer to how is YES. We need a world that works better for all, not just some. Let our prayer be for God to strengthen our leaders, strengthen the moral vision in them to do the right thing. May they be undistracted. May they be undaunted. Though screamers surround them and cast frightening visions of how the world will end if health care reform with the public option is passed, may they be calm and confident. Calm and confident. Let it be so.

Protesting Police Harassment of Atlanta’s GBLT Community

On September 10th, the Atlanta Police Department raided a well known gay bar, The Atlanta Eagle, and all 62 patrons were forced to lay down on the ground, be searched, and have their IDs run. Not a single patron was arrested for any charge, despite the 3 paddy wagons the APD brought with them. The Atlanta community responded with a rally to show support. I and about thirty members from the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta took part.

Here’s a video of my comments at the rally:

Here are my essential comments:

My name is Rev. Anthony David. I am a pastor of a local congregation, and I want to tell you, I am proud to be here today. I am proud to serve the gay community, and I believe that the real sin here is not homosexuality, but homophobia. Homophobia is the sin, not homosexuality.

My congregation is the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta, and I’d like to hear a shout out from fellow congregants who are here with me today. And if we have other Unitarian Universalists from other local congregations, I want to hear a shout out from you. And you know, we’re not the only faith community out there for which homophobia is a sin, and I want to hear a shout out from people of other faith communities who are here standing with us. I love it!

There are several points I’d like to make. One is that the police should protect the Constitutional rights of Atlanta’s residents, not violate them. When Atlanta treats people as second-class citizens, that is not right. Trust is violated, and that is tragic. We need our police, absolutely, but not in this way, not in the way that they treated people several days ago. We need our police, but not in this way. A lot of trust has been violated and a lot of reform is necessary to make sure this kind of thing never happens again.

Another point that comes to mind: Unitarian Universalists and many other people of faith believe (as I said earlier) that homophobia is the sin, not homosexuality. What is wrong is not lawful expressions of sexuality that come from mature, responsible adults. What is wrong is not the sexual identity that people are born into, who they are. What’s wrong is harassment, police or otherwise. What’s wrong is anti-gay and racist comments, profanity yelled at innocent people, people forced to lay down on the floor while handcuffed for more than an hour. This is America, this is 2009!

My last point. Unitarian Universalists and many other people of faith stand on the side of love with the BGLT community whose humanity and Constitutional rights are too often denied. We have got to stand up, we have got to unite. If it happens here, it can happen anywhere. We need to stand up and do something about this.

On Repelling Fewer People: Reflections on Multiculturalism and More

During this year’s Ministry Days and General Assembly, the trend toward multiculturalism in American society came up repeatedly—most notably in Paul Rasor’s Berry Street Lecture and UUA President Peter Morales’ campaign speeches.

Paul Rasor asks, “Is our brand of religious liberalism fatally linked to a demographic that’s fading?” In 2042, projections indicate that white people will compose only 50.8% of the population. Will we still be a faith community that is 90% white, as we are today and as we have been for the past 10 years, even after all the proactive antiracism, multiculturalism work of leaders in our denomination? “We face a major turning point: will we stand, or will we move?”

Echoing this, President Morales says, “One of our problems is we have a faith with enormous appeal, but we need to stop packaging it in Yankee culture.” We need “a new faith for a new America.”

Our congregational culture proves to be a barrier to many people who would otherwise love to be a part of us because they love what we love: the promise of personal and social transformation through free religion. Of what does this culture consist? From comments shared by Rosemary Bray McNatt, following on the heels of Paul Rasor’s lecture, this culture is a matter of aesthetic and lifestyle preferences: “We don’t own TVs, don’t like gospel and pop music and definitely don’t like rap, are unapologetic nature lovers, eat locally, say NO to shopping at Wal Mart, listen to NPR, love Garrison Keillor, read ahead in the hymnal to see if we agree with the words we are about to sing.” But, says Rosemary, “how does this allow us to encounter people whose experience of church is different? What’s their entry point into our congregations?”

I can personally attest to this. As Lead Minister of the Pathways Church project (the initial “rapid-start large church”) from 2003-2007, I was given this marching order: think outside of the Unitarian Universalist box, explore ways in which non-UU churches attract people by the thousands, and then, through trial-and error, create a church that integrates these dynamic elements. Build a new kind of Unitarian Universalist church for a new day, one that is at its core UU even as, on the surface, it might look and feel very different from what UUs are used to.

I can personally attest to what Paul, Peter, and Rosemary are getting at because the people who resisted this the most and gave me the most trouble were existing Unitarian Universalists. By contrast, people who had never heard of Unitarian Universalism before and found us (or we found them) were delighted, excited, on board and wanting more. But not existing UUs. Part of this definitely related to worship style. At Pathways, we modeled our worship after the intense, full-immersion worship favored by many evangelical and non-denominational congregations. Our music was primarily popular—one time we even did some rap—and it proved to be the golden thread that ran throughout our services, at times joyfully energizing us while, at other times, taking us to sweet silent places of prayer and reflection. Our services also appealed to multiple-learning styles in that they featured visual, dramatic, and kinesthetic components. I will never forget after one of our first services, how a 75 year-old-woman came up to me and said that it was the best worship she had ever experienced in her life. She loved the music. She loved the slice-of-life dramas. She loved the multimedia. The lesson is clear: it’s absolutely false to say that only youth and young adults prefer contemporary worship. Many people in this world hunger after worship that helps them connect with energy and joy in the idiom of contemporary American life. Many people, that is, who are not already Unitarian Universalist. I can’t tell you how many times I was “pecked to death” by people who came to us from other Unitarian Universalist congregations—people whose sense of what is proper for UU culture was mortally offended by what they were experiencing in our pews. They smelled white trash, and they sneered.

Pathways definitely taught me that Unitarian Universalism, as it is practiced in most if not all of our congregations, is an ethnic religion with cultural norms. Violate the norms, and you are in trouble. Free religion only in mind but not where freedom most fully and truly resides: in the heart and in the body.

And yet…. Even as I can personally relate to what Paul and Peter and Rosemary are saying, I feel that there are other, more significant obstacles to people entering into our faith (and staying). I am particularly struck by how all such obstacles tend to remain generally unspoken, unsaid, and unacknowledged.

One of these unspoken obstacles came to light for me during the opening events at General Assembly. During the opening plenary, outgoing UUA President Bill Sinkford reviewed the highlights of his administration’s achievements, and part of this included a recitation of injustice after injustice in the world, which he enjoined the Unitarian Universalist community to address. Then, during the opening worship that followed, he spoke of truth and reconciliation and formally apologized to representatives of local Indian tribes for what we did in the 19th century: our complicity (however ineffective) in the U. S. government’s initiative to “civilize” the indigenous tribes of Utah and elsewhere. By no means do I think that such an apology was unnecessary. By no means do I think that the evils of the world should go unchecked. Yet the whole thing, from first to last, was so solemn, so earnest, so suggestive of … overfunctioning. I sensed behind it all a larger pattern—a troubling pattern—which I will call “the Unitarian Universalist superego.”

Historically, our UU superego can be traced back to our Boston Brahmin forbearers, though the form it takes today reflects great distance from those social movers and shakers and the transformation of many years. Now it is a moralism that combines masochism with workaholism. Every evil in the world becomes our problem—its very existence suggests some kind of collaboration on our part, unwitting if not witting. And since we are interrupted Calvinists who have rejected the guilt-discharging techniques of our ancient ancestors without replacing them with anything else, the sense of guilt just builds and builds. Can’t get away from it. Our backs ache from the accumulated weight. We have become guilt-grubbers. We look for ways to kick ourselves.

The UU superego is into masochism, and it is into workaholism. We must be overachievers, in the lead attacking every social ill. Theologically, it’s not enough to become familiar with one world religious tradition—we’ve got to know them all, in addition to every liberal art and every science. Our dreams have got to be the biggest. And if we are going to do “diversity,” well, then, we’re gonna do Noah’s Ark diversity. We’re gonna gather two of every possible kind within our walls—we’re going to aspire to doing something only a God could do. We are going to act like the God that most of us don’t believe in. It’s all up to us. Poet Wendell Berry says, “Not by your will is the house carried through the night,” but we don’t believe it. It’s ALL up to us. If we don’t do it, it’s not going to happen.

Now I know that I verge upon exaggeration. I know it. Yet every time I hear a key UU voice reciting a litany of all the evils in the world, together with the message that we’ve just got to DO something, I feel the weight of the Unitarian Universalist superego: the masochism, the workaholism. What a heavy burden we place upon our shoulders. What a heavy burden we place upon the shoulders of those who come to us.

Makes me wonder what Meg Barnhouse’s surly waitress would have to say to us. “In my life,” says Meg, “I have certain things to take care of: my children, my relationships, my work, myself, and one or two causes. That’s it. Other things are not my table. I would go nuts if I tried to take care of everyone, if I tried to make everybody do the right thing. If I went through my life without ever learning to say, ‘Sorry, that’s not my table, Hon,’ I would burn out and be no good to anybody. I need to have a surly waitress inside myself that I can call on when it seems that everyone in the world is waving an empty coffee cup in my direction. My Inner Waitress looks over at them, keeping her six plates balanced and her feet moving, and says, ‘Sorry, Hon, not my table.’”

We need to have a surly waitress within ourselves and within our movement, so we don’t burn out.

The next day, I went to Mark Morrison-Reed’s workshop entitled “The Perversity of Diversity.” In it, I was delighted to encounter a message that echoed my own sensibilities somewhat. It was my first GA workshop—I came there right after breakfast at the Radisson, during which I spent most of the time gulping coffee and writing cranky things in my journal. Mark shared his own thoughts about how UUism is an ethnic religion. He affirmed how, as a liberal religion, we are especially responsive to currents and trends in contemporary life, saying, “Rather than leading, we are reaping the rewards of a changing society. The growth of the black and Hispanic middle class has led to more blacks and Hispanics in our pews.” Mark also put his finger on how we assign ourselves incredibly ambitious goals and then, when (of course) we fall short, we fret, we self-flagellate. It’s moral workaholism, moral masochism: the UU superego. I know it well, since that’s exactly what the Pathways experience made perfectly clear. The ambitious and beautiful dreams that led to it; the incredible consternation and embarrassment and outrage that exploded when things did not unfold as expected and the small church did not become large instantly, as if it were some bag of microwave popcorn. As for the people who risked much to do a new thing: scant gratitude. Small thanks.

President Morales: “One of our problems is we have a faith with enormous appeal, but we need to stop packaging it in Yankee culture.” Yes. But more important is that our faith returns to a sense of genuine reverence, as defined by philosopher Paul Woodruff: “Reverence is the virtue that helps human beings from trying to act like God.” “Reverence and a keen eye for the ridiculous are allies: both keep people from being pompous or stuck up.” It’s Meg Barnhouse’s surly inner waitress, coaching us to loosen up. We can take ourselves way too seriously. We can become anti-liberal and inegalitarian in our enthusiasm. We can become overcontrolling of each other. We can nurture a sectarian spirit that makes us feel superior to all the other religionists who are working for world peace too. Perhaps if we talked more about God we would be better humanists. We would do a better job remembering our human limitations.

Of course we should aspire to bring healing and wholeness to the world. Of course we should incarnate our “many ways” theology and celebration of life in communities of vibrant diversity. Of course. But let this not become a moralistic burden, one we are lectured into by a superego that continually whispers in our ears that we are shameful. Our surly inner waitress needs to counter and silence our Unitarian Universalist surperego. Only then will we recognize what is and what is not our table.

Mostly, I’m talking about the need for an attitude adjustment. Resisting the anxious, perfectionistic impulse to clean up the messiness of the world. Savoring the world so that our impulse to save it flows out of a sense of abundance and love. Serving out of the deep knowledge that we exist in partnership with a grace-filled universe. “Not by your will is the house carried through the night,” says Wendell Berry:

The grace that is the health of creatures can only be held in common.
In healing the scattered members come together.
In health the flesh is graced, the holy enters the world.

What if, for example, this grace and this health were the focus of the opening worship at General Assembly, every year? Starting out, not by reciting an earnest litany of social evils and injustice, but by remembering and invoking the grace and the health in which we live and move and have our being? The President of the UUA, saying, “Here we all are, gathered together again, and the Spirit of Life is with us as well, within us and between us, leading us towards more strength and more healing and more peace. Let’s see where it takes us, in our time together. Let’s expect to be surprised. Let’s see where we go….”

The attitude adjustment is remembering always to serve out of a visceral sense of grace and abundance. Put this at our center, and our cultural ethos will be far more sustainable and far more encouraging. We will indeed repel fewer visitors and retain more members, but more importantly, we will be making our contribution to the healing of the world, and we will trust that, however imperfect or limited our contribution, the gracious universe will turn it into some good. It will be enough.

Building Our Audacious Future

One day a mother mouse was out taking her babies for a walk, and a cat came out of nowhere to surprise them. The mother bade her children run and hide, and as they did,  she positioned herself between them and the cat, who was peering at them with his big grey eyes. He slowly came nearer and nearer, and then, just when it seemed like he was about to pounce, the mother mouse said, “BOW WOW! BOW WOW!” It stunned the cat; he simply did not know how to take this. He ran away, confused; and when the coast was clear, the children came running to their mother. She turned to them and said, “Children, now do you see the benefits of learning a second language?”

As a congregation, we have been on a collective journey of learning the second language of sustainability. The journey began last fall, when, at our Ingathering Service in September, we declared interdependence. Then came our Stewardship Campaign with its theme of “Creating Spiritual Community … Working for Sustainability” during which, in various ways, we took the conversation deeper, culminating on October 19^th when I asked you to let me and the Care of Earth Team know about the sustainability issues and dreams that were important for you. Out of this eventually grew the Happiness Challenges we heard about in worship from January to April of this year, as well as the Building Our Audacious Future Event last month, enabling us—given all the possibilities of all our various dreams—to arrive at four shared congregational sustainability goals, which people then voted on through their willingness to volunteer. When you think about it, this willingness to volunteer is really the only way of determining whether a goal has initial viability, or not. Given the volunteer results, we’ve got a green light for all four goals, and over the next three to six months, we’ll be getting four teams up and running, to champion the four goals. Just to get to this point is a great win for our congregation. Over the course of the entire year, one event led to the next, until today, Earth Day Sunday, we find ourselves in a place to begin the next phase of our Sustainable Living Initiative, when we actually get to work and start implementing goals. Declaring interdependence through more than just words.  

All of it has been about learning and using the language of sustainability, and it IS a second language. It takes effort to figure out and to use correctly. Sustainability is not equivalent to recycling. Sustainability is not just about the environment. What it IS about is doing whatever it takes to build communities of every size—from world community to nations to cities to congregations to neighborhoods—that last. According to the Earth Charter—a key document developed between 1995 and 2000 through the international cooperation of scientists, scholars, and religious leaders—development that is truly sustainable and is good for future generations as much as for the present generation can’t emphasize just one interest to the neglect or detriment of other interests. We’ve got to look for win-win solutions. We’ve got to think bigger and more systemically. We’ve got to look for solutions that honor the environment even as they grow the economy, create a more just world, and strengthen our individual lives. Honor all four points of the sustainability compass simultaneously—nature, economy, society, and personal wellbeing—and you have found the way. Forget about one or more of them, and you’re lost. The cat in our story from a moment ago has just eaten your children and it has just eaten you.

Thus the need for a second language, a way of standing up against all the forces that the cat represents, and scaring them off. Fragmentation is one of these forces. In the environmentalism community, such fragmentation was named back in 2004 by an article entitled “The Death of Environmentalism.” The article acknowledged the irony of environmentalism being so popular in the world and yet not much concrete progress having been made in combating global climate change despite the investment of hundreds of millions of dollars over 15 years or more. Earnest environmental lobbyists crying out, “You’re talking to me about your job and I’m talking about saving the world!” but the message nevertheless falls on deaf ears. The message of “change or else” just not working. Thus the article’s main point: how people who love the earth and want to heal it can no longer afford to be standoffish and isolate environmental issues from other issues like poverty, jobs, health insurance, war, national security, education, or spirituality. From now on, if we want our work to go to the next level of effectiveness, we must see environmental issues as interconnected to everything else. To truly address a problem like climate change, we’ve got to talk about how fighting it can lead to job creation like we’ve never seen before. To address climate change, let’s talk about brokering an alliance with auto companies so that environmental lobbyists will work to lower the costs of health care for the auto industry in exchange for higher mileage standards. Nearly 100 years ago, Sierra Club founder John Muir said, “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.” An idea that is both beautiful and true. The point of the article was that modern environmentalism needs to hear the message as much as anyone else!  

“Problems,” Albert Einstein once said, “cannot be solved at the same level of awareness that created them.” Sustainability is fundamentally an effort to resist a fragmented view of life and to see how old problems that look like they have nothing to do with each other are actually related at a deep level. That’s why here at UUCA our sustainable living initiative incorporates more than just the zero footprint goal. It also includes a service goal, a story goal, and a happiness goal. We need them all. All together represent our commitment to building our audacious future. If you’d like to volunteer for one of these goals, please visit the Care of Earth table in the social hall after services.

At this point, I want to say a few words about our happiness goal. Earlier, you heard Manette talk about the service goal, Tom talk about the zero footprint goal, and Dana talk about the story goal. The happiness goal is basically this: we seek to celebrate and strengthen individual efforts to live sustainably. It can happen in all sorts of different ways: eating that is more mindful; sustainable living in the home; stronger neighborhoods and communities; increased physical health and wellbeing; better habits around money and shopping; healthier relationships; or an increased commitment to spirituality. Do one or all of these, and happiness of a higher sort grows in your life and in the larger world. Thus our happiness goal as a congregation: we’re going to find ways of encouraging and supporting each other in this.

Please take a look at the yellow insert in your order of service. For a while now, I’ve been asking you to think about what your year-long happiness pledge might be. It was inspiring to hear Kimberly describe hers, and in a moment, I’ll share mine. But first let’s see how the pledge sheet works.

Turn to where it says, at the top of the page, “My Personal Happiness Pledge is….” This is the main side of the sheet I want you to look at. In the box at the top, you’ll write down your basic pledge in one or two lines. Let us know who you are and your contact information. We’d also like to post people’s pledges on the UUCA website, so let us know if we have your permission to do so—see where you can check off yes or no?

When you are done, carefully tear off your pledge sheet along the dotted line, and you’ll turn it in when the baskets come around.

Now take a look at the information under the dotted line. There, you have some example possible pledges, related to several broad categories. For example, look at the category “mindful eating”: beside it you’ll see five different possible pledges…. Each one represents something you could focus on doing all year long. “Preparing and eating food with others,” for example, could turn into a monthly practice of dinner with friends, where you develop your friendships even as you experiment with some healthier food recipes. And so on. It all depends on the kind of new direction you’d like to take in your life right now.   

Underneath, see the box where it says “A copy of my happiness pledge”? Be sure to write down your happiness pledge here too, so you’ll remember it and take it home with you.

Two things to say at this point:

1. What if you don’t want to make a year-long happiness pledge? You don’t wanna…. No problem—this is only a friendly invitation. These pledges are meant to encourage and support people in their lives. For some people, pledges like this give them focus and commitment, and they work.    

2. What if you want to make a year-long happiness pledge, but you aren’t ready? You need more time to think about it, or you’d like to talk to someone first? If this is the case, after services today and also next week, the Care of Earth Team will have a table in the social hall, and you can talk with someone there, as well as turn your pledge in. Beyond next week, you can turn your pledge in to the UUCA office.

As for my own year-long happiness pledge. It has to do with “retiring” a certain jersey of mine. Here it is: [a t-shirt that says, “I love bacon.”) In other words, I’m going to go without meat and poultry for the next year. I just feel ready for this, right now in my life. I’m still going to eat fish, so I guess that means you can call me a “pescetarian.” As with Kimberly, the reasons touch on all four points of the sustainability compass. Not eating meat or poultry is better for the environment; it represents a refusal to go along with the injustices of animal agriculture on a mass scale; it’s easier on the checkbook; and I just want to get healthier and lose weight—especially if I’m going to get back to competing in skating. I’m retiring my jersey. I’ve already gone two weeks without meat and poultry, and I’m feeling great.

Now it’s your turn. When you hear the sound of the happiness challenge, begin filling out your pledge form, tear it off the larger sheet, and in a couple of minutes, the ushers will begin picking them up.

[Happiness Challenge sound--people make their pledges. Then, in a few minutes, the ushers come round to pick them up. “De Colores” is played underneath…. ]

MLK Jr.: Lessons in Leadership

Tomorrow is a special day in the life of the nation. We celebrate the man who said, when civil rights marchers were facing the dogs and clubs and fire hoses of Birmingham, “We must face the forces of hate with the power of love.” He said, “All people are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality.” He said, “I have a dream.”

Monday, we celebrate this great man, Martin Luther King, Jr. And then comes Tuesday. On Tuesday–not far from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, site of King’s “I Have a Dream” speech—Barack Obama will be inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States. “If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible,” he said back in November, on the night of his historic election, “If there is anyone out there who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer. […] It’s the answer that led those who’ve been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.”

What celebrations are before us. What high points in our nation’s history. The dream of racial and social justice unfolding. Though much more remains to happen, still—how wonderful to be alive in this time, to witness the parts coming true!  

But the journey has in no way been easy, or straight. Messy all the way, in America’s larger social life, but also in the personal lives of the leaders we are celebrating. The man who now says “Yes we can” once, as a sophomore in college, ridiculed such idealism, disbelieving that he or anyone else could make a true difference. Long before his political opponents charged him as all flash and no substance, he said, “Pretty words don’t make it so.” “That’s the last time you will ever hear another speech out of me.”

Can you personally relate to this irony? See in your own leadership story a time when you believed something couldn’t be done—or it could be done but by anybody but you—but then it WAS done, and the person who had done it was YOU?

“We are made for community,” says liberal Quaker and activist Parker Palmer, and so “leadership is everyone’s vocation.” That’s our focus today—exploring what this means, and doing it with the spirit of Martin Luther King Jr. in the room, drawing on a messy moment in his leadership story to help us understand our own.

Here’s the story. Has to do with the time he was invited to become a part of the Montgomery bus boycott. As you may know, first there was Rosa Parks—her refusal to obey the bus driver’s demand that she give up her seat. What followed, as King’s biographer Marshall Frady describes it, was this: “That ‘No,” and Mrs. Parks’ arrest, quickly set off a spontaneous combustion among Montgomery’s black citizenry to boycott the city’s segregated bus system. Almost immediately, mimeographed leaflets calling for the boycott were coursing through the city’s black neighborhoods. But when, the night of Mrs. Parks’ arrest, [a local social activist by the name of E. D. Nixon] phoned [the young Martin Luther King Jr.] to ask him to join in the boycott movement, King, out of some uneasiness beyond just his absorption in his multiple other duties, seemed curiously reluctant: ‘Brother Nixon, let me think on it awhile, and call me back.’” Marshall Frady goes on to say that, “Concerned at King’s hesitation, Nixon called Ralph Abernathy…. Abernathy then called King to exhort him about the elemental importance of cooperating in this boycott effort. King finally agreed to lend it his support if it would not entail his having to aid in any of the organizing.” And that’s the story, with three things of note to lift up: the initial call to leadership, King’s hesitation to accept, and Ralph Abernathy’s intervention.

Starting with the call. What might it look like? As it did for King, sometimes the call takes the form of widespread social crisis, like the spontaneous combustion of the Montgomery bus boycott, against the larger backdrop of the burgeoning civil rights movement. This crisis gripped our congregation as well; we too were swept up in the civil rights movement, and in 1954 we affirmed desegregation, becoming the very first multiracial religious community in all of Atlanta. It represents one of the high points in our collective leadership story, here at UUCA.  

And may more highs ever be before us. Tomorrow, megachurch pastor Rick Warren will be the keynote speaker at Ebenezer Baptist Church as part of the MLK Day festivities. No doubt this is connected to his being invited to deliver the invocation at Tuesday’s inauguration, and both decisions, frankly, have been enormously controversial. Warren doesn’t just oppose gay marriage, he’s compared it to incest and pedophilia. He doesn’t just want to ban abortion, he’s compared women who terminate pregnancies to Nazis and the pro-choice position to Holocaust denial. Now Obama strongly disagrees with Warren here—he’s clearly said so. He’s invited him to deliver the invocation as a way of symbolizing his commitment to building bridges to parts of America he may strongly disagree with on some things but yet, on other things, there’s plenty of common ground—and right now, emphasizing common ground is the way forward. This is classic community organization strategy. Yet I would hate to see, because of this high-level emphasis on common ground, a tendency at the grassroots level towards apathy. You and I to stop disagreeing with Warren’s point of view because we’re afraid of being disagreeable. You and I to stop speaking out and letting people know who we are, what kind of place this is. People, our commitment to civil rights here at UUCA cannot merely be historical. It must be ongoing, and I believe that protecting abortion rights, as well as working for full social rights of GLBTQ people, constitute a key part of the civil rights movement that is here and now. Consider yourself called. Monday at 12:30 in the afternoon, the official MLK march will begin. Join us as we demonstrate our commitment to civil rights for ALL.    

It’s the call. We can hear it in the various crises and issues that trouble the larger world; but we can also hear it closer to home, when there is a crisis is our congregation, or a crisis in our family. A crisis of personal health. Even a crisis of spirit. You can feel two wolves inside you, in your heart, circling round and round, snapping at each other; one represents hatred, the other represents healing, and the one that you feed is the one that prevails. Something happens or does not happen in our congregation, for example, and you have an instant negative reaction—right here is a call to leadership. So what do you do next? Do you indulge your suspicions, cultivate your disgruntlements, insist on “my way or the highway,” believe that the rules don’t apply to you, perhaps even divide people into US vs. THEM, spread a spirit of war around rather than of peace? If you do this, you did NOT answer the call. You fed the wolf that destroys, not the wolf that heals. The leadership moment was missed.

We’ve got to be there when the moment comes. So much is at stake in how we use our influence. And it’s not always a matter of responding to crisis. Parker Palmer puts it this way: “I lead by word and deed simply because I am here doing what I do. If you are here, doing what you do, then you also exercise leadership of some sort.” Even just to smile across the room at someone you know—just to acknowledge their existence—can be a kind of leadership, an exercise of influence that is truly important. Just by smiling across the room, you are living into a larger vision of a community that strengthens and encourages. Someone was talking about this just the other day—how horrible and withering it feels to notice someone looking at you but they don’t smile, they don’t acknowledge your existence…. Leadership is about making the vision real, in acts both big and small. You see a piece of trash on the floor, and you pick it up even if you aren’t the sexton, even if you aren’t part of the paid staff, even if you hear a voice in your head that says, “Ahh, this is a BIG congregation—surely someone else will do it.” No. YOU do it, and as you do it, your simple act of leadership is helping to create the Beloved Community vision that says, We are all in this together. It’s up to all of us. Pull together and not apart. Everyone chip in. The ministry here involves every friend, every member, because that’s what it takes to live out our mission of changing lives. That’s what it takes. 

Leadership is everyone’s vocation, expressed through acts both big and small. It’s about how we use our influence, towards the direction of some larger vision. It’s about how we respond to the call, when it comes.

Which takes us to the second thing of note in Martin Luther King’s story: his hesitation to accept. It represented a momentous crossroads in his life, although he could not have known it at the time. Ultimately he did accept the call, and in this way achieved great visibility and respect as leader of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which in turn led to his role in founding (with others) the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and then to his leadership in civil rights campaigns in Albany, then Birmingham, then Augustine and Selma, and then the March on Washington and his soaring “I have a dream” speech. It all got started with Montgomery, and King’s ultimate answer of yes. But what if he had said, instead, NO? What then? Without Montgomery, would there ever have been “I have a dream”?

Hindsight is 20-20. “We live forwards,” said philosopher Arthur Schopenhaur, “but we understand backwards.” With only the knowledge that is given us in the moment—already full of the pressures of existing responsibilities and anticipations of future work we already know of—it is truly understandable and fully human to hesitate when a call to something new comes before you.

King was only human, and this is something we need to be reminded of, so that we can be confident leaders in our own right. Here’s why I say this. We take a hero figure like Martin Luther King Jr. and we lose touch with his story. Soon enough, someone who had just as many flaws and complexities as the rest of us becomes transformed into a superperson, untouchable. A change agent who leapt from the womb holding a protest sign. He was fearless, but we feel fear. The work came naturally to him, without any effort or awkwardness, but as for us, we endure setbacks, mistakes, trial-and-error. He was bottled lightning, but we have to pinch ourselves to stay awake. The perfect snappy comeback was always on his lips, but as for us, it’s usually only 12-24 hours later when it pops into our minds.   

We lose touch with our heroes’ stories, and in this way we lose touch with our own powers and potentialities. We hear a call to leadership, but our response can be, Who, me? Yet the message of the life of every hero who has ever gone before us, or who may be in our midst right now, is that you don’t need to be perfect to have a dream. You don’t need to be perfect to make the world a better place. You don’t have to already know how to preach if it is your dream to preach. You don’t have to already have the right credentials or know everything there is to know to step up. And if you are feeling the need to do something in your life to make the dream real, you don’t have to wait to start until the circumstances are absolutely ideal, as in: I am the right age (not too young, not too old), the kids are grown, the job is secure, I have enough money, my relationships are all better, I even have all the big questions of life figured out, related to God, immortality, the meaning of life, the existence of extraterrestrial beings. Just do it. I am so grateful for a hero like Martin Luther King Jr., a man who, at a critical juncture in his life, hesitated. The world did not need a perfect person to do what he did. The world did not need that. The world needed him. And the world needs you and me.

Leadership is everyone’s destiny, in some form, big or small. And now we turn to the third and last part of King’s story: Ralph Abernathy, talking King into accepting the call. His intervention.

This represents another aspect of the hero story that is easily passed over. Often the message put out there (or the one received) is about rugged individualism. One person acting alone. Nothing or not much about family, the larger supportive community, the worship services, the committee work, the coalition building, the flurry of letters and emails and phone calls, and, in the midst all of it, above all, key sustaining friendships. People whose judgment you trust, so that even if all the world is criticizing you, if THEY believe in you, you believe. People who will lift you up when you need it; people who will bring you back down to earth, when you need that. Nothing about any of this. Just one person acting alone. Rugged individualism.

It’s just not true. You can’t get to Martin Luther King Jr. without his parents and family and teachers, the black church community, liberal communities like this one, all the committee meetings, all the worship and prayer and hymn singing, all his friends and colleagues. You just can’t get to him without Ralph Abernathy—the man who reconnected him to his sense of call and purpose when he hesitated. The man who was with him throughout, until the very end and beyond.

I’m asking you this morning: Who is your Ralph Abernathy? Who believes in you, so you can believe?

This place—this community—can itself be a support to you. But you’ll get out of it only as much as you put in. So, how much are you putting in?

We need our communities of support. We need our Ralph Abernathys, to grow into the leadership that is naturally ours.

On Tuesday, when Barack Obama is up there with the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, being sworn in as the 44^th President of the United States, using Abraham Lincoln’s Inaugural Bible, I want you to think of a person named Regina, whom Obama knew in college. He had just delivered his very first political speech, about apartheid in South Africa and the need to stand up for social justice. He felt swept up in this; he was feeling the call. Yet at the same time, he was full of self-doubt, and cynicism. At a party that evening, Regina congratulated him, calling his speech wonderful, but he cut her off, said, “Listen, you are a very sweet lady. And I’m happy you enjoyed my little performance today. But I don’t believe we made any difference in what we did today. I don’t believe that what happens to a kid in Soweto makes much difference to the people we were talking to. Pretty words don’t make it so. That’s the last time you will ever hear another speech out of me.”

Barack Obama, hesitating….. But what happened next was this. He shares the story in his book Dreams from My Father: “Regina stuck a finger in my chest. ‘You wanna know what your real problem is? You always think everything’s about you. The rally is about you. The speech is about you. The hurt is always your hurt. Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Obama. It’s not just about you. It’s never just about you. It’s about people who need your help. Children who are depending on you. They’re not interested in your irony or your sophistication or your ego getting bruised. And neither am I.” That’s what Regina said. Right words at the right time.

“Strange,” says Obama, “how a single conversation can change you.” ‘What was she asking of me, then? Determination, mostly. The determination to push against whatever power kept [a person] stooped instead of standing straight. The determination to resist the easy and the expedient. You might be locked in a world not of your own making … but you still have a claim on how it is shaped. You still have responsibilities.”

Godspeed, Barack Obama. Keep on pushing. We too, in our own lives, whatever our situations happen to be, as we realize the leadership story that is uniquely ours, and our destiny to fulfill. Undaunted by obstacles both within and without. Determined. Always before us … the Dream.

READING BEFORE THE SERMON

Our reading for today comes from Barack Obama’s autobiography, Dreams from My Father. The time is 1981, and he’s a sophomore at Occidental College in Los Angeles, protesting the apartheid system in South Africa.

It had started as something of a lark, I suppose, part of the radical pose my friends and I sought to maintain, a subconscious end run around issues closer to home. But as the months passed and I found myself drawn into a larger role—contacting representatives of the African National Congress to speak on campus, drafting letters to the faculty, printing up flyers, arguing strategy—I noticed that people had begun to listen to my opinions. It was a discovery that made me hungry for words. Not words to hide behind but words that could carry a message, support an idea. When we started planning the rally for the trustees’ meeting, and somebody suggested that I open the thing, I quickly agreed. I figured I was ready, and could reach people where it counted. I thought my voice wouldn’t fail me.

Let’s see, now. What was it that I had been thinking in those days leading up to the rally? … I was only supposed to make a few opening remarks … [but] when I sat down to prepare a few notes for what I might say, something had happened. In my mind is somehow became more than just a two-minute speech, more than just a way to prove my political orthodoxy. [I thought of how powerful a speaker my father was.] If I could just find the right words, I had thought to myself. With the right words everything could change—South Africa, the lives of ghetto kids just a few miles away, my own tenuous place in the world.

[I spoke passionately that day, but after other speakers took my place on the stage, I found myself] on the outside again, watching, judging, skeptical. Through my eyes, we suddenly appeared like the sleek and well-fed amateurs we were, with our black chiffon armbands and hand-painted signs and earnest young faces. […] When the trustees began to arrive for their meeting, a few of them paused behind the glass walls of the administration building to watch us, and I noticed the old white men chuckling to themselves…. The whole thing was a farce, I thought to myself—the rally, the banners, everything. A pleasant afternoon diversion, a school play without the parents. And me and my one-minute oration—the biggest farce of all.

At the party that night, [my friend Regina] came up to me and offered her congratulations. I asked what for.

“For that wonderful speech you gave.”

I popped open a beer. “It was short, anyway.”

Regina ignored my sarcasm. “That’s what made it so effective,” she said. “You spoke from the heart, Barack. It made people want to hear more….”

“Listen, Regina,” I said, cutting her off, “you are a very sweet lady. And I’m happy you enjoyed my little performance today. But I don’t believe we made any difference in what we did today. I don’t believe that what happens to a kid in Soweto makes much difference to the people we were talking to. Pretty words don’t make it so. That’s the last time you will ever hear another speech out of me….”

Here ends our reading for today.

 

Testimony Before the Firearms Study Commission of the Georgia Legislature

Thank you, Chairman Seabaugh and committee members, for allowing me to share my thoughts about the proposed changes to current Georgia gun laws [which would allow permit holders to carry concealed handguns into our congregations.] I’m Rev. Anthony David, Senior Minister of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation in Atlanta, one of the largest Unitarian Universalist congregations in the United States.

 

Recently, the Unitarian Universalist religious movement has been tested with violence. On the morning of July 27^th, during a worship service at our sister church in Knoxville Tennessee, a man named Jim Adkisson started shooting. 200 people were in the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church sanctuary that morning, including the 25 children and youth who were leading worship that day. Many were wounded and two ended up dead. Based on Jim Adkisson’s own testimony, as well as that of a letter he had written, he wanted to target the church because of its emphasis on freedom and inclusivity—his belief that liberals should be killed because they are ruining the country. He concealed a shotgun in a guitar case, carried that case into the church sanctuary, took the gun out and started shooting indiscriminately into the crowd, fully expecting to keep shooting until police arrived and he was killed himself. He fully expected to die that day, even going so far as to leave his home unlocked to make it easy for police to enter.

 

In the aftermath of this event, Unitarian Universalist congregations across the country are feeling vulnerable to hatred. Our sanctuaries should be places of safety, but we know now that safety is not a guarantee. There are people in this world who are already dwelling in hell, and they want to take it out on the innocent. So it is a time of discernment for us and for congregations everywhere, as we face the question of gun violence. Would things have been different if there had been people in our sister church’s sanctuary carrying concealed handguns? Ready to defend the congregation against the shooter?

 

One thing is clear—even if people in the Tennessee Valley Church had been carrying concealed handguns, this would not have deterred Jim Adkisson from doing what he did. He was not afraid of dying, and I suspect that this is generally true of the kind of person who’d want to kill people at a church.

 

Then there is the issue of competence. Even trained police officers, on average, hit less than 20% of their intended targets. As I understand things, there are no physical force or proficiency training requirements in order to get a concealed carry permit in Georgia. To me, this all adds up to my conviction that, even if some members of the Tennessee Valley church had been carrying guns, they would probably have missed their target.

 

But bullets would be flying, and this leads to yet a third consideration: unintended side effects. Not just in the moment, but over the long haul. In the moment, if some Tennessee Valley Church members had been carrying guns, they probably would have accidentally shot fellow church members. As for the long haul: imagine what happens if a gun accidentally goes off during a church event, or during a service—or if, God forbid, a child or youth somehow gets a hold of one. In the long haul, the presence of a gun does not minimize the possibility of violence but multiplies it. Imagine people coming to church carrying concealed handguns, and because of tragedies like Tennessee Valley, they are on the look out for others who appear suspicious and may, in their vigilance, develop an itchy trigger finger.… The long haul has to do with what happens to the larger culture of a religious community, which is supposed to lay out a welcome table to all who want to connect with the sacred in life. To bring handguns into the sanctuary is to bring the expectation of violence into it and therefore spoil the culture of the generous welcome table, which was so central to the spiritual vision of Jesus as well as to so many other great religious leaders. The guiding religious principle here is that the means we use to achieve the ends of nonviolence and justice in the world must themselves be nonviolent and just. You can’t get to true nonviolence through violent means. You can’t get to true justice through injustice. Perhaps this is why the U. S. Supreme Court, in its Heller decision, acknowledged that houses of worship are truly “sensitive places” where guns do not belong. This is emphasized by even Justice Scalia, who is one of the most conservative Justices on the Supreme Court.

 

In light of all I have said, I believe that for the Tennessee Valley Church, members carrying concealed handguns would not have prevented the tragic shooting and, in fact, would have made things worse in both the short and long haul. What did make all the difference, in the moment, were a couple of heros who tackled Jim Adkisson at full risk to themselves. One of these heros, in fact, died. In a situation like this—when someone is set on killing others—something bad is going to happen. But our task is to identify responses to violence which do the least harm. Our desire to be safe must not make us reach for solutions that will do more harm than good.

 

Is it possible to prevent tragedies like the one that happened at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church from happening ever again? Is there a way to guarantee that our sanctuaries will always be safe places? I don’t think so. Danger and risk are nonnegotiable aspects of the human condition. But what is all important is that religious communities are able to model spiritual leadership and might in the face of evil. Concealed handguns have absolutely no role to play in this. I believe this, and so does the minister of the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church—even after what happened. 

 

Rev. Anthony David

Sept. 23, 2008

 

 

**

 

Objection: But why shouldn’t congregations have the right to decide for themselves? Why not allow some congregations to ensure safety for themselves by developing and deploying armed security teams, while congregations that disallow concealed handguns can put a sticker on the door to make declare their places “gun free zones”?

·        Reply: First of all, a sticker on the door cannot replace the kind of deterrent that exists now, which is a misdemeanor charge. Even with a sticker at the door, people won’t have to be afraid of breaking the law, so what will stop them from carrying them in? Don’t see how this avoids all the negative consequences I mentioned earlier.

·        Also, whereas it may be true that some congregations may want the right to develop and deploy their own armed security guards—and again, given my comments above, I don’t know why they’d want to do this—I would not underestimate the incredible burden that this will put on all the other congregations in Georgia. Even congregations with stickers on the door will need to invest financial and volunteer resources to ensure safety in a world where people are not prohibited by law to carry firearms into churches.

·        Finally: this objection assumes something false about the role of government, as well as the nature of constitutional rights. Government’s proper job is to balance competing interests and competing rights in a way that does justice to the common good. As important as Second Amendment rights are, when they are emphasized to the detriment of other rights, then this is not justice but injustice. Government has the right and the obligation to establish laws that reflect a just balance between competing interests. The decisions it makes then act as healthy boundaries, and within such boundaries, people can exercise their individual freedoms.

 

 

 

Gathering to Bear Witness

I’d like to share the words I spoke at UUCA’s vigil this past Monday, as we held the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church in Knoxville at the center of our thoughts and prayers:

 

We are gathered here this evening because of a human tragedy. Yesterday, a shooting occurred at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church in Knoxville. Two people died, another 12 or so were treated for minor wounds, and five continue to be in critical condition. The suspect, Jim Adkisson, opened fire inside the church, during a youth performance of “Annie,” at about 10:18 a.m. His only connection to the church seems to be that his ex-wife used to be a long-time member there.

 

It is a human tragedy, and we gather to bear witness to the sorrows and sufferings that humans are prone to and inflict on each other. Whereas we Unitarian Universalists affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every human being, at times like these we are reminded that inherent worth does not automatically translate to worthwhile action in the world. What is potentially worthwhile may not become actual. Two wolves exist within every breast; one is for good, another is for evil, and life is a journey of making choices about which one of the wolves we feed.

 

Human tragedy gathers us here together this evening. And we gather in solidarity with our brother and sister Unitarian Universalists across the land, right at this very moment, all across the land, for this tragedy has struck close to home. Some of us have friends at the church in Knoxville—we see them regularly at various national and district events and gatherings, including most recently at the Southeast Unitarian Universalist Summer Institute (or SUUSI).

 

There is this—and then there is the knowledge that violence profaned and sullied one of our worship services, shattered sanctuary space and time. This in itself is so deeply disturbing. Reverence is so very fragile. Peace is so very fragile.

 

Finally, you may have heard some of the most recent reports about the suspect Jim Adkisson’s context and motives. The Associated Press reports that he recently received a letter from the state of Tennessee telling him that the food stamps he had been receiving would be reduced or eliminated. Jim Adkisson, already prone to violence in solving his problems—his ex-wife had put out a restraining order on him—was frustrated about being out of work, not being able to get a job. Which he blamed on liberal values and social policies. This is what he did. So he brought all this resentment and all this blame, and he decided he’d take it out on a Unitarian Universalist congregation with a liberal track record—which is so ironic, since last I heard, it’s liberal values and social policies at their best that fight against economic injustice and try to help people like Jim.

 

It’s a human tragedy, and we bear witness. Whether or not we know people from the Knoxville church, our grief and sadness and anger overflow. It is so hard to comprehend senseless violence on this scale, or the monumental misunderstanding that underlies it.

 

At times like this, you might find yourself wanting to know as many details about what happened as possible; you may find yourself glued to the TV or to the internet. Others of you may want to get as much distance away from this as you can. People respond to tragedies like this in different ways, and all of these ways of coping are normal.

 

Please treat yourself and others with care and compassion. It’s also true that a moment like this can trigger memories of times when tragedy visited us and left us feeling out of control in our own lives. The personal impact of a tragedy like this can’t be underestimated. Please treat yourself and others with care and compassion.

 

Dr. Nadine Kaslow, from the Emory School of Medicine, says that one of the best things that can happen in a messy time like this is to take things step by step. She says, “One of the things you can do is let people talk, let them share their stories, let them talk about what they want, but also sometimes, they’re going to want to be distracted, and that’s okay too. Appreciate that everybody has a different way of responding.”

 

In a moment, this is exactly what we’ll be turning to. After a time of prayer, Rev. Keller will lead us in a time of sharing, in which we can share our thoughts and our feelings and so begin the work of healing. 

 

But before we get there, though, I need to mention that we gather here this evening not just to bear witness to a human tragedy. We also gather to bear witness to the human spirit at its best, which mourns and rejects violence, which comprehends the violence that it is always capable of and yet chooses the better way of peace, works for peace and justice.

 

The human spirit at its best, represented by our coming together as Unitarian Universalists, undaunted by the events of yesterday, courageously standing up for our liberal faith and works though they be misunderstood, though they put us in places of risk….

 

The human spirit at its best, which, with Gandhi, says that “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall—think of it, always.”

 

The human spirit at its best, which was so fully demonstrated in the example of one of the Knoxville church members, Greg McKendry, who sacrificed himself so that others might live. Greg McKendry, said a fellow church member, “stood in front of the gunman and took the blast to protect the rest of us.” Another church member made this comment: He “was a very large gentleman, one of those people you might describe as a refrigerator with a head. He looked like a football player. He stood up and put himself in between the shooter and the congregation.”

 

This is the human spirit at its best—and we gather today to witness this as well. Not to forget it, even as we are faced with the evil that people can do. There are two wolves in my heart and in yours; one is for good, another is for evil, and life is a journey of making choices about which one of the wolves we feed.

 

Today, we bear witness to the sorrows and the joys of that journey.

Reflections of an ardent protester

I’m reading Derrick Bell’s Confronting Authority: Reflections of an Ardent Protestor, and there is much that is wise here. Some quotes from his work I am reflecting upon:

Protest that rescues self-esteem: “Often, the desire to change the offending situation, which is often beyond our reach, may be an incidental benefit and not the real motivation. Rather, those of us who speak out are moved by a deep sense of the fragility of our self-worth. It is the determination to protect our sense of who we are that leads us to risk criticism, alienation, and serious loss while most others, similarly harmed, remain silent.”

Passivity not always wrong: “This book does not aim to convince readers that a passive response to harassment and ill treatment is always wrong, a confrontational one always appropriate. Few, of any, of us could survive in modern society by challenging every slight, every unfairness we experience or witness. I do believe, though, that most people are too ready to accept unwarranted and even outrageous treatment as part of the price of working, of getting along, even of living.”

The protester’s dilemma: “The protester, while seeking always to carry the banner of truth and justice, must remember that the fires of commitment do not bestow the gift of infallibility. Even the most well-meaning can err in the mission of good, can worsen conditions they seek to reform. An important part of the challenge of confronting authority is to recognize human limitations in all these things, consider them along with the risks, and then, despite all, move forward and face powers greater than your own.”

Every act of protest equally threatening: “I have learned that those in power regard every act of protest—whether against the most mundane rule or the most fudamental principle—as equally threatening. [...] What is most heretical, though, is that, in every case, the protester asserts the right to have a meaningful—as opposed to token—voice. That is what those in authority resist so desperately.”