Where did this foggy brain come from?

 Up at 3:30 a.m. unable to sleep bc of a nagging inability to "unlock" a locked-up financial account. Finally got up and started gathering together ALL the items of info that I have on this matter, wrote an email to the person who has gotten me thus far and thought I could get to the finish line on my own. Rats.

I've been thinking about this dilemma overtime in the last few days. A miasma of fog seems to have invaded my brain (temporarily, I hope)----where did it come from and when did it start? I have turned my very good brain toward figuring out the source and I think I have!

I DON'T think it's alzheimers creeping up. I do think it may be a result of having spent the past year without any sense of responsibility for anything but going to meals at Kamlu. I totally got out of the habit of checking over my bank accounts, out of the knowledge that I didn't have any responsibility at all, that the facility was taking care of everything.

I didn't even have to make my bed--the housekeeper did that. Others did all the daily tasks that I would normally perform (well, they didn't brush my teeth for me). I just showed up, having had no need to plan for anything except being on time for meals, and now my habitual practices of watching my finances, sorting papers and storing them for future reference, doing laundry on a certain day, keeping track of IRS records/donations, etc.,having regular weekly "duties" to another entity (church, friends, various health appointments, etc.)----these have all gone by-the-by and need to be reinstated.

I'm working on the hypothesis that these are habits that can be easily reestablished, with some degree of conscientiousness, that I am not actually losing my marbles and can regain these strengths with a little practice.

But the word to the wise from MsKitty is this: if you decide to go to senior living accommodations, think ahead about your normal routines and make a pledge to continue them in some fashion. Exercising the brain and the internal habit-former might save you some sleepless nights down the road.

The Doubting Preacher's Daughter

 My parents were devout, conservative Christians of the old school:  the school that proclaimed that the Bible was inerrant, that the miracles were real, that the whole point of Christianity was the horrifying but salvific sacrificial death of Jesus on the cross of Calvary, and that heaven and hell were real after-life destinations IF you didn't believe everything literally that the Bible and most Christian pastors preached.

Problem was, I had a hard time taking those literalities seriously.  They were/are beautiful (or horrifying) stories but they were also hard to prove factually.  And I needed verification, so in my college courses at Linfield I explored Christianity as best I could in a Baptist college, taking "Life of Jesus" and "Basic Christian Thought" courses, in an effort to find out what academics might reveal behind the scenes, with world views larger than that of conservative Christian pastors.  And maybe some more complete understanding of the science which did not support the miracle stories.

I was canny enough not to discuss my doubts with my parents, who I figured would not appreciate my questions.  But I needed to know!  

Playing along with the traditional beliefs of Baptist theology as I got more familiar with it, I found that I could assume that the stories of miracles and other magical acts had some literal truth to them but were stories told over the centuries to explain what couldn't be understood in any other way.  The stories were "true" but also mystical.

After college, I wanted to do something to live out my deep understanding of Christianity and chose to serve in two different job scenarios.  My first job was to work as a welfare caseworker in two counties in Washington state.  For about 18 months, I plied my trade in the back country of Klickitat and Skamania counties, serving Old Age recipients and Indigent Families.  I had never had such an opportunity to be with people who relied on State assistance to survive.  It was a new world to me.

But living at home with my parents was hard, as my changing theology and awareness of what people really needed, apart from salvation, which was to survive.  My family had never been well off--preachers' salaries were pretty scanty---but the folks I met had almost nothing and lots of medical bills and children.

A chance came along to become a program worker in a Baptist Christian Center in Denver and I jumped at it.  My job was to work with preschoolers, preteens, and older teens after school, but I also met their parents---and they were all different colors and cultures.  My eyes opened wider and wider and I let myself be more deeply immersed in the social justice challenges of racism and poverty.

In Denver I met the man who would become my husband.  He was a catalyst for my discovering that there were religious groups which did not require one to believe in certain miracles but, instead, to focus on the values by which we live our lives.  He introduced me to Unitarian Universalism in 1965, almost 60 years ago.

And we'll stop there for now.

"The Land that Made Me Me" (author unknown)

Borrowed this from FaceBook. If you know the author, let me know and I'll add that info.

Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,

Before the days of Dylan , or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me.

For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,

Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince,

Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced to 'Little Darlin,' and sang to 'Stagger Lee'

And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,

And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see

A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,

And when they made a movie, they never made it twice..

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three,

Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,

And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,

And Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had our share of heroes, we never thought they'd go,

At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,

And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,

And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees,

Madonna was Mary in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,

And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and 'gay' meant fancy-free,

And dorms were never co-Ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,

And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.

And hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea,

And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.

T-Birds came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,

And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,

And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues,

We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea

Or prime-time ads for those dysfunctions in the Land That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,

And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill

And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,

And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me.

But all things have a season, or so we've heard them say,

And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.

They send us invitations to join AARP,

We've come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,

And wonder why they're using smaller print in magazines.

And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be,

Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.

If you didn't grow up in the fiftys,

You missed the greatest time in history,

Living through post-war American history and into the current chaos of trumpism, christian nationalism, and the far right.

As my 82nd birthday approached on June 8th, I became conscious of the US and World history that I have lived through and am living right now. I was born in 1942, during WWII, and grew up after the end of the war in 1945. I am a member of the so-called Silent Generation.

My childhood was safe and my parents, relieved that the deprivation of the war years was behind us, gave us kids love, not fear, protected and encouraged us, got us through high school and into college, and turned us over to our own consciences.

From age 10-18, I lived with my Baptist preacher family in the small town of Athena, Oregon, population about 750 on a good day. My dad was well liked in our town and, though we kids grew up with the strictures of no dancing, no playing cards, no movies---at least for the preacher's kids---we were not particularly resentful of those strictures, as the other preacher's family had the same rules, so we were accepted as normal, just with a little tighter set of rules than the other kids.

We Ketcham kids were good students and busy with extracurricular activities---sports, school newspaper and yearbook, choir and speech and drama, even in our tiny high school. School was fun and we had a good record in interscholastic sports.

Our parents were active in local groups and our dad had the distinction of being 6'6" and having a friendly, warm nature. He was on good terms with other city leaders and was willing to take on small and large tasks to help out here and there. I remember his helping neighbors with electrical repairs on occasion and I remember his kindness and understanding when he encountered transients and migrants looking for jobs in the summer harvests.

One thing that stands out in my mind was his driving the bus full of transients, migrants, and us high school kids out to the pea fields in summer, at 6 a.m. for a day of driving our heavily laden trucks back and forth between the swathers and loaders as we kids loaded our pea trucks for delivery to the pea viners, a 12 hour a day job for less than $1 an hour.

More Later.

AN ODYSSEY IN REAL TIME

                  AN ODYSSEY IN REAL TIME: 

                        Rev. Kit Ketcham, 4/14/24

 

         When I accepted the invitation of the UUCWI worship team to visit today and enjoy a reunion with this congregation where I landed in 2003, you were only the second congregation I had served in my time in ministry. 

I spent some time thinking about who you all are and what you have become and who I am and what I have become, and I was reminded of the many twists and turns we both have taken in our journey to this moment in time.

         I began to see our individual journeys and our journey as a UU congregation in a new light.  We both, at that time, were on what the ancient storyteller Homer would call an Odyssey, a long wandering or a voyage marked by many self-discoveries, some painful, some deeply rewarding.  All life-changing.

         Do you remember the story of Odysseus, the hero of Homer’s major work The Odyssey?  In this ancient tale, Odysseus spends 20 years traveling home from the Trojan War.  He has astonishing adventures and learns a great deal about himself and the world; he even descends to the underworld to talk to the dead.

         An odyssey, as we have come to understand Homer’s legendary work, is any long, complicated journey, often a quest for a goal, and it may be a spiritual or psychological journey as well as an actual voyage.

         Our odyssey as a congregation and its pastor began as each of us came to this moment in time from a place of pain and discomfort with goings on that didn’t feel right, that alienated people, that changed the ways we saw ourselves and each other.  Both the congregation and I had come to a turning point, a place in time where a change of direction could spell great joy or more pain.  It was in our hands---could we find the joy we sought?  This happened almost exactly 20 years ago!

         We took a chance and I became your minister.  It wasn’t always easy but we gradually experienced a great deal of joy together.  We had learned a lot from the pain we left behind when we found each other.  

We built this beautiful sanctuary in this beautiful place; we reached out into the community to establish ourselves as justice seekers during the long haul to Marriage Equality, we mourned the deaths of people like Baird and Peggy Bardarson, Malcolm and Wendy Ferrier, John Adams and others, strong leaders we had counted on over the years.  

Let’s take a look at who was here at that time at the UU Congregation of Whidbey Island.

If you were one of those leaders in the years 2003--2007 or so, raise your hand or stand up. (pause) I invite you to call out the names of other leaders from those days who are no longer with us---in recognition of their hard work. (Clap). Thank you for your hard work!

         But new leaders stepped in to continue the work, many of them here today.  Those new leaders looked at what we had accomplished over the past years and examined the needs of the Whidbey Island community to plan the next steps in UUCWI’s odyssey.

If you were one of those newer leaders who stepped up to fill the shoes of former leaders during the years 2008-12, I invite you to stand or raise your hand in fond recognition of your work to help this congregation grow strong and sure.  And call out the names of those leaders who are not here today.  (Clap!) Thank you for your hard work!

         New leadership brings new ideas and new challenges.  The world beyond these beautiful doors created by John Long and the work of others who built this sanctuary, this holy place, has brought new ideas, new worries, new losses of people like Roy Bingman, new beginnings with new ministers, and coping with the many challenges brought by the worldwide plagues of COVID, of racism, antisemitism, ecological disasters, homophobia and transphobia, to name a few.

 

         The past several years have been deeply traumatic for the entire world’s population.  We were hit hard by COVID, had to learn quickly how to cope with the strictures of the plague, how to calm our fears, how to keep ourselves and others safe.

         It wasn’t easy!  We have all been through the proverbial mill!

But to back up for a moment when my 70^th birthday rolled around in June of 2012, I had put in over 9 years with you and I still smile with joy when I think of those 9 years and how we learned and worked together.  It wasn’t always easy---we had our challenges and disagreements---but we found ways to continue the good work.  

And here we are today---you are strong and growing still; you have survived two years of pandemic challenges, several changes in pastoral leadership which have given you new experiences and new perspectives that come with each pastoral change.

You have gathered in new members, new children, new projects, new ways of serving the Whidbey Island community’s social justice needs. If you are a newer member, if you have brought your children to the Religious Education program, if you have suggested a new project or a new way of serving the needs of this beautiful Island, stand or raise your hand.  (Clap). And call out the names of anyone who did this work with you but couldn’t be here today.  Thank you for your hard work! 

And now will all of you who have taken on leadership roles over the past 20 years please stand and be acknowledged.  You form the foundation for UUCWI to stand on.  You have created a strong structure of leadership but you have also been traumatized in some major ways, by deaths of beloved members and friends, setbacks in national politics, the ongoing struggle to create and maintain a healthy planet, a healthy population reflecting diversity, equity, inclusion, and a healthy, growing congregation.

We are living in a chaotic world these days.  And the trauma around us, whether it has touched us personally or not, affects us all, saps our strength, challenges our sense of accomplishment, and clouds our judgment at times.  

I asked our worship team for today to give me a rundown on how the recent workshop went, and I received a list of positive outcomes as well as some hopes and dreams for the future, but without a clear sense of where and how.  And underlying the conclusions from the workshop was, for me at least, a recognition that UUCWI is at one of those turning points that define an Odyssey.

  

I thought about what the list of positives from the worship team’s list seemed to indicate:  here are some of the points listed.

1.    It was a time for talking together.

2.   It revealed the resilience that undergirds this congregation.

3.   It revealed the gratitude you have for one another’s presence here and for this beautiful space.

4.   It showcased what is truly important to this congregation.

5.   It gave voice to all who came and participated and to those who took a role in creating this process.

6.   And thanks to the leadership of those presenting, it ended on time and stuck to the agenda.

Back in the day----not long before I retired from UUCWI, so it must have been about 2010 or 11, we began the creation of our Covenant of Right Relations.  We had met as small groups, with larger groups to sort out the really important features we wanted to include, smooth out the rough patches and eventually came to the point where we voted to accept the work of the congregation and include our Covenant of Right Relations in our official documents.

We knew at the time that it might not be complete and that we might want to alter it someday, but at that moment of voting, these words expressed the desire of this congregation to hold fast to these promises to each other. 

Let’s repeat the Covenant of Right Relations on which the UU Congregation of Whidbey Island comes together in Beloved Community.

 

Our Covenant of Right Relations

Love is the spirit of this congregation and service is its practice.

This is our great covenant: to dwell together in peace, to seek truth in love, and to help one another.

 

Our promises:

We warmly welcome all.

We speak with honesty, respect, and kindness.

We listen compassionately.

We express gratitude for the service of others.

We honor and support one another in our life journeys, in times of joy, need, and struggle.

We embrace our diversity and the opportunity to share our different perspectives.

We address our disagreements directly and openly, and see conflict through to an authentic resolution.

We serve our spiritual community with generosity and joy, honoring our commitments.

We strive to keep these promises, but when we fall short, we forgive ourselves and others and begin again in love.

 

 

 

It brought tears to my eyes then and it still does.  This Covenant is not necessarily perfect, but it lays out a path for addressing the pain of past trauma, reaching out to those who have felt the trauma and are yet in pain, reminding us all that diversity, equity, and inclusion can be a reachable goal, that this document provides a structure, an outline, for addressing the turmoil that exists in our world and can affect this beloved community.

The Covenant of Right Relations for UUCWI, the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Whidbey Island, provides a pathway to greater community, greater cooperation, and a greater sense of commitment in attaining the promises set forth in this Covenant of Right Relations.

Its origins, back in our congregational history together, as so many times in human relations, were born out of pain and strife, disagreements about how things should operate, and conversations about those differences of opinion were voiced directly and openly and conflict was seen through to an authentic resolution.

You have survived a hard series of events over the past several years, not only with the congregation but also individually.  Your next step is to decide which way you will go in the future:  will it be the path of the Covenant you have adopted or will it become another struggle?

 

If there is disagreement, can you examine the promises of the Covenant and measure your growth or your loss in each promise?  Can you do this in a direct and open way, so that conflict can be seen through to an authentic resolution.  I believe you can and will.  Because you love each other, you love this place which means so much to all of us, and you love what it stands for in the larger community.

I wish you well in your next steps in this Odyssey, this journey of discovery and healing.  I am so glad to be with you again for this brief time.  It has been a time of growth for me to be here again and to reflect on how the years have brought you and me to this time and place.

I am grateful for the impetus that caused your worship team to invite me here for this occasion.  It has been a valuable experience for me as well, to reflect on our past together and look for the lessons it has brought us, both individually and collectively.

I am a better minister because of our time together.  I learned a great deal about love and loss, growth and struggle, and I took these lessons to my next congregation, the tiny Pacific Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Astoria.

  

You as a congregation are at a turning point.   I suggest that the Covenant of Right Relations that we developed together those years ago is a blueprint for next steps, to see where you’ve been and where you might go from here, using what you’ve learned in the past years of challenge.

You can take your Covenant of Right Relations and review it for directions on your Odyssey path.  It is a good start for the next phase of your journey.

HYMN:  Our closing hymn is #323, “Break Not the Circle of Love”

Let’s take a time of silence before our Benediction:  

 

BENEDICTION:

         Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together, is ended, but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place.  Let us go in peace, remembering the struggles we have overcome, the love that has grown between us all, and the commitment we share for making this chaotic world a better place.  May we always remember this Covenant that gives structure to this Beloved Community.

Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

         

Saying Goodbye

 Dear PUUF friends,

As I get closer to my moving date, I want to express my gratitude to you for your love, your cooperation, your energy, your smiles and encouragement, your interest in my life and future, and also to make it clear(er) what our relationship will be from now on.

As of July 1, I will not be your minister; Rev. Mira will be your minister and I will be part of your history.  This is the way ministers and congregations have parted for a long time.  I have a professional duty to my colleague Rev. Mira to stand aside and let her create her own relationships within PUUF.

In a small community like ours, it's hard to let a close relationship change, but change it must.  I need to let go and so do you, to make it the best possible welcome to Rev. Mira when she starts with you in July.

This does not mean we don't care for each other any more.  It means, instead, that we care for each other in a new way:  I care very much that you form a relationship with Rev. Mira that fosters growth in PUUF and a new vision of what you can contribute to the community.  I know that you care very much for how the rest of my life goes, and I appreciate that caring.  You have given me a great deal of support and love over the past 10+ years and it has helped to make me strong enough to serve you to the best of my ability as I age. I am grateful for that support and love. It will carry me for the rest of my life.

Thank you for helping me with my move, which has proved to be more complicated and expensive than I expected.  Your willingness to help me pack and tote boxes and sort my mementos has been crucial in my preparation to make this change in my life.

I expect to return briefly to officiate Cliff LaMear's Celebration of Life in July, as Rev. Mira will not be available.  And Rev. Mira and I will sit down together in the next weeks to create a covenant of how our relationships with you and with each other can be most healthy and productive.  

My schedule for the move is that we will load the UHaul truck, with the help of volunteers and a couple of hired hands to help with the heavy lifting, this coming Friday. 

When the truck is full and ready to roll, Bob and Karin Webb will take it to their house overnight and bring it back to my Alderbrook home Saturday morning, from which we will leave for Vancouver and my new home.  

I am grateful to the volunteers (the Webbs, Dan Vernon, Ellen Norris, Veja Lahti, Laura Janes, and many other volunteers) who have offered their help in this long stretch of preparation.  Thank you all so much.

 

I love you.

Kit

 FROM BAPTIST PREACHER’S KID 

TO UNITARIAN UNIVERSALIST MINISTER

Rev. Kit Ketcham,

June 4, 2023, 1^st Presbyterian church, Astoria

 

Nancy Cole invited me to speak with you today about Unitarian Universalism and, rather than dig out my old lecture notes from seminary and the multiple meetings with fellow interns during that four year stretch of my life, it made better sense to start at the beginning of MY understanding of American Baptist doctrine and the covenantal path of Unitarian Universalism.

I was born an American Baptist Preacher’s kid in the hospital in Chehalis; my Dad was the pastor of the Mossyrock Community church.  I was their first-born, or at least the first child to survive after two stillbirths.  My younger sister and brother were born in Portland hospitals, after our family moved from Mossyrock to Portland, where my Dad served the Calvary Baptist church on 42^nd and Holgate.

We Baptist kids, much like you Presbyterian (or Methodist or Lutheran or other denominations), received our early religious education in Sunday School classes where we learned Bible verses, listened to stories and parables and both Old and New Testament wisdom.  As we got older, we shared discussion about some of the principles of our Christian faith and about the early stories of Creation and Jesus’ life.

For me and my siblings, at least, it was a warm and loving experience.  Our parents were well-loved by the congregation and we were doted upon by members of our church and thought of it as a loving place.  We had no reason to argue with anything scriptural, even though we might question a miracle or two. If we did, we did so silently.

After 8 years in Portland, we moved east to the little town of Athena, in between Pendleton and Walla Walla.  I was nine when we moved, horse-crazy, smart-alecky, and a bit of a brainiac.  

We kids had never gone to public schools before Athena; our parents had been instrumental in starting up the Portland Christian Schools system, which, in addition to the normal academic lessons, was heavy on the Bible education as well.

After graduation from Athena grade school and McEwen high school, I went on to Linfield College, an American Baptist-supported 4 year college, a scholarship student by virtue of my Dad’s profession.

At Linfield, we were required to take certain religion classes, taught by professors whose knowledge and understanding were greater than that of the volunteers who taught Sunday School at the Athena Baptist Church.  I had come to wonder if the stories I had learned over time about such miracles as a virgin birth, water into wine, and resurrections had more to them than what I had learned from my SS teachers, whose knowledge had not come from advanced university studies.

But I was a good kid, didn’t want to upset my parents, whose theology was conservative and unquestioning.  Their own religious education had been in small town Sunday Schools and, after my Dad felt called to the ministry, at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, not exactly your hotbed of liberality.

After college graduation, my first job was in the welfare office of WA state public assistance in Goldendale, where I served the families and old age recipients of WA’s public assistance program, as a caseworker in Klickitat and Skamania counties.  I enjoyed this job but I was appalled by the poverty and frustration I saw in the families I served.

My family had never been rich, far from it, on a preacher’s salary, but a paltry couple of hundred dollars to make it through a month with kids and no work in the timber industries because of logging accidents and the feast or famine income of a seasonal job.

After a year or so of living near my parents and driving into the tiny settlements in the Klickitat valley, I was wondering if this was all my life was going to be, shuttling from one sick family to another, dealing with grouchy WWII vets who were disabled and dependent on the monthly assistance check.  It was sad, solitary work, and I was not flourishing.

One day, combing through the daily mail, I chanced upon a flier addressed to my Dad, advertising a seminar in Yakima at the First Baptist Church, six  weekly sessions taught by a professor from Seattle on “The Life of Jesus”.  That was a course I had dearly loved at Linfield.  I was determined to go, even though it was winter, the Simcoe mountains and Satus Pass were treacherous in snowy weather, but my little Ford Falcon and I were raring to go.  To my parents’ credit, they did not try to dissuade me; they could tell I was languishing and I needed to do something different.

That course was life-changing, not so much because of the topic, but because of the discussion about things I’d always wondered about---Jesus’ courage, his knowledge of Jewish tradition and how his teachings challenged the tradition in many ways, the path he laid down for his followers was stunning---and I wanted to take it.

The clincher for me was at the final session, when a bigwig from the ABC brought with him to that session a young man who spoke to us about outreach programs in the American Baptist Home Mission Society:  Baptist Community Centers in cities all over America.  

That young man, Rev. Henry Hardy, talked with me after the session about the places where there were vacancies and needed program workers to carry out the humanitarian and spiritual work of the center.  I was hooked, not only on becoming a Home Missionary but also on the very appealing Rev. Hardy, who now has been a friend to me all my adult life and whom I credit with giving me the information I needed to change the trajectory of my life.

So I was commissioned as an American Baptist Home Missionary and arrived in Denver at the Christian Center there, in the inner city.  I loved this work, spending time with kids and parents of many races---Black, Asian, Latino---in preschool classes at the center, after-school activities for middle-schoolers, teen canteens on weekends for older kids, an employment counselor on the premises, a clothing closet for needy families. And a church service every Sunday morning for which I played the piano.

  My boss, the Rev. George Turner, was a Black man who had recently returned from the Civil Rights activities in Selma, Alabama.  This was 1966.  My Dad invited me to speak on one occasion when I had returned to Goldendale for a family Thanksgiving.  I spoke enthusiastically about the programming at the Denver Christian Center, and as inexperienced speakers will do, I ran out of things to say after 10 minutes or so.

So I opened it up to questions from the floor; most of those questions were about financial matters, the kinds of problems I would run into in those conditions, what did the Center need from the little Goldendale Baptist Church, that sort of thing. 

At the very end, one fellow in the back raised his hand, and asked me “How many souls have you saved for Christ?”  I stuttered and stammered with my answer, trying to relay the idea that our mission at the Center was humanitarian efforts to better people’s lives, not focused on heavenly salvation but on earthly survival.

As I left the sanctuary that day, wondering about his question and my answer, it occurred to me:  “I am not that kind of Christian; I’m not sure I ever was or ever will be.”  And I think about that moment yet today.  

After the Denver Christian Center became a United Way agency, I went back to school for teaching credentials and began a career as a junior high school Spanish teacher and, later, a guidance counselor, which, though secular, gave me the sense of moving in the right direction in a humanitarian field.

Marriage to a Unitarian Universalist man, whom I met at a Denver Young Democrats meeting, showed me a religious path I had been largely unaware of.  We attended church and protest rallies and I was intrigued by the juxtaposition of my Christian upbringing and the social justice work offered by the principles of Unitarian Universalism.

I learned that UUism had begun to develop in the third century, after the Council of Nicaea, when one of the bishops in that conclave resisted the development of the Trinity as a way of understanding the Divine.

The priest Arius, in the 3^rd century, believed that Jesus was divine but not on the same level as God. He believed that Jesus' wisdom and teachings were more important than his death and resurrection. Arius believed that human beings could draw closer to God by following those teachings. As the Christian Church solidified and unified in the fourth century and adopted a Trinitarian theology, Arianism became the archetypal heresy for the orthodox.

And that’s where our first name comes from:  Unitarian---the belief that Jesus was a separate entity from God, that Jesus’ teachings were the way to live a Godly life, and many early Christians followed Arius as their theological leader.

But the Trinity was a solidifying theology for those bishops intent on creating an institution which would bring early Christians together under a common theology.  Unfortunately, this resulted in non-trinitarians being rejected as heretics and many were burned at the stake for their disbelief.  John Calvin was a theologian who condemned and witnessed many burnings of heretical non-trinitarians.

Universalist, our second name, comes from the also heretical belief that a loving God would not consign his wayward children to Hell.  

Christian universalism is a school of Christian theology focused around the doctrine of universal reconciliation – the view that all human beings will ultimately be saved and restored to a right relationship with God.  Many of these believers were also considered heretics and punished, often gruesomely.

Unitarian Universalism has Christian roots, but as you can tell, we have somewhat rebellious ideas about orthodox Christianity.

These days, UU congregations, like the Pacific UU Fellowship, are more than Christian.  We have Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, atheists, agnostics, Christians, Pagans, and none of the above, within our worshipping communities.

Obviously, it would be hard for us to specify that only One way of believing is the true faith, so over the years, we have moved beyond even non-traditional Christianity.  Instead of a doctrine, we have principles of Right Actions that we covenant to affirm and promote.

Let me read you two documents that are foundational for Unitarian Universalists.  The first is a list of our Seven Principles beginning with a statement of intent:

We, the Member Congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote the following values and ideals:

    1st Principle: The inherent worth and dignity of every person;

    2nd Principle: Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;

    3rd Principle: Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;

    4th Principle: A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;

5th Principle: The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;

6th Principle: The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;

7th Principle: Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

 

Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote these seven Principles, which we hold as strong values and moral guides. We live out these Principles within a “living tradition” of wisdom and spirituality, drawn from sources as diverse as science, poetry, scripture, and personal experience. 

 

These are the six sources our congregations affirm and promote: 

 

•   Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life;

•   Words and deeds of prophetic people which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love;

•   Wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life;

•   Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves;

•   Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit;

•   Spiritual teachings of Earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

 

I’ve mentioned that Unitarian Universalism is a “Living Tradition”, which means that we are continually aware of the need to examine our faith, to note where our priorities are or are not in synchronicity with our principles and reflect the wisdom of our sources.

To that end, we review our principles regularly to see if we need to add something, some action, some new understanding, to our statement of faith.  In addition, we review our sources to make sure we include the many streams of meaningful words and actions which guide our lives.

In recent years, we have been working on the issue of racism within our denomination and how it has affected our behavior toward the many People of Color inside and outside of our congregations; it has caused us to restate our values and assign actions to each, to help us develop our awareness of white supremacy and the damage done by our ignorant mistakes.

We respond to the call of love because it is our common theological core. 

It is what can and does motivate us and it illuminates our deepest commitments to each other.

We have many luminaries in our religious tradition, as do you Presbyterians 

and other denominations.  Here are a few names you may recognize and see the great variety of religious thinkers and social justice activists in our ranks:

John Quincy Adams, US president

Louisa May Alcott, children’s writer

Bela Bartok, composer

Beatrix Potter, children’s writer

Ee cummings, poet

Charles Dickens, author

Dorothea Dix, social reformer

Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and thinker

Edvard Grieg, composer

Sylvia Plath, poet

Mary Wollstonecraft, feminist

Christopher Reeve, actor (Superman!)

Tim Berners-Lee, creator of the world wide web

and Pete Seeger, musician and folk hero

 

         Unitarian Universalism is a liberal religious tradition that was formed from the consolidation of two religious bodies:  Unitarianism and Universalism.  In America, the Univeralist Church of America was founded in 1793 and the American Unitarian Association in 1825.

         After consolidating in1961, these faiths became the new religion of Unitarian Universalism.  Since the merger of the two denominations in 1961, UUism has nurtured its Unitarian and Universalist heritages to provide a strong voice for social justice and liberal religion.

         Our scripture readings for today are representative, for me, of the Jesus Path I chose to walk long ago.  Jesus states the Greatest Commandment in his answer to a questioner who asked  “Master, which is the greatest commandment in the law?  Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.   On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”  It is the bedrock of my spiritual life.   

Micah’s statement in verse 8 of chapter 6 is “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? 

Over the years, as the King James Version has been retranslated time and again, written in more inclusive language and reflecting more of the diversity of Christian belief, I have modified my own religious language.

I do not think of God, anymore, as a Being; I think of God as a power, the power of the universe, the power of Love, the power of natural laws which control and guide our lives.  If I strive to work WITH the powers of the universe, of Love, natural law, I will be doing the will of the Power beyond Human Power, which many call God. 

I cherish many of the remnants of my earlier faith---the old hymns, the scriptures which are still meaningful, the rituals of prayer, of communion, of faithfulness to a creed or covenant that helps me shape my behavior.  But I have let go of the difficult admonition “saving souls for Christ”.  I give love instead, to all who come into my life, the best I can.

Let’s pause for a time of silent reflection and prayer.

BENEDICTION:  

Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together is ended, but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place. Let us go in peace, thinking about what shapes our lives, what guides us in the hard steps of human living?  May we have the strength and will to follow our spiritual guides into a new place of spiritual and personal growth.  Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.