Go West, Young Church, and No Stopping!

Sermon

My sermon today is in two parts. I want to start by telling a couple of parables about different ways of handling money in a faith community, and then I want to talk about why our support for this faith community matters so much.

I’m going to start by talking about the Mormons. I’ve been planning to use this story for a couple of years, so I’m a tad piqued that Newsweek stole my thunder this week, but be that as it may – slow and steady doesn’t always win the day, but know that this canvass sermon angle did not occur on a whim about 5 days ago. The cover of your orders of service show bills printed in the late 19th century by the Kirtland Safety Society Anti-Bank of Ohio. Yeah, there’s a story there.

Though it was a Unitarian, Horace Greeley the publisher of the New York Tribune, who famously declared “Go West, young man!” as denominations go it was not us, but the Mormons who took, or were forced to take, his advice. The ridicule, contempt and ultimately condemnation they experienced pushed them out to seek a place they could be comfortable and practice their faith. For a while Kirtland, Ohio was that place. Now there’s a lot we don’t share with Mormons, and some of that we’re glad of. There are elements in the Mormon story that are shameful, prejudiced, abusive and dishonorable. We Unitarian Universalists, also a heavily American faith, have a considerably more conservative history and fewer characters and episodes to deplore or live down, though we’ve got some ourselves. But we also don’t share some of what makes them seem almost the quintessential American religion; vigorous, brash, ambitious, pioneering and visionary, rags to riches, With an international movement, one of the fastest growing faiths in this country, with state and national elected leaders, great coffers to draw on for their chosen tasks, and renowned architecture, geneaology and music, as a denomination the Mormons have a lot we can learn from.

Settling new land was challenging and expensive and after a while in Kirtland, OH, Joseph Smith was running out of money for himself and his settlers. What did he do? Hold a tent revival? Call an emergency canvass? Hold a capital fund drive? No, nothing so predictable. Instead, he declared that the Lord had commanded him to open a bank.

In those days, the US government didn’t print money; states chartered local banks to do that. This meant any bank that was opened and appropriately chartered by the state could commission plates and mint their own US currency. But in Ohio there was an anti-bank movement; the state legislature was filled with representatives who thought there were enough banks already and were set to reduce, not increase their numbers. Seems like a tough situation to negotiate, but not if you’re truly, religiously, entrepreneurial. Joseph Smith asked his followers to bring their silver and gold (see Isaiah) to endow the bank and when they had enough, the Mormons started the Kirtland Safety Society Anti-Bank, which minted currency but didn’t require a charter, or so they maintained, because it was not a bank but an anti-bank, in keeping with the anti-bank movement. So you may not have known there was once a $3 bill, but there was, purported equal to $3 of US currency, only the signatories weren’t US treasury secretaries, but Joseph Smith and Mormon bank president Sidney Rigdon.

Fast forward to a few years ago when a UU minister colleague of mine was serving a small congregation in Utah. Two new members joined, and since they came from a Mormon tradition where members are asked to tithe, to pledge 10% of their annual income to the church, accordingly these folks tithed to their new UU church. As soon as the Finance chair learned about their pledge he paid them a visit. And what he said to them was that they were making a big mistake, that the congregation wouldn’t know what to do with a lot of money if they got some, and that those new members should rethink their pledge right away. Which they did, reducing it to a small sum, in keeping with the average pledge of most UU’s in that congregation.

Now that Kirtland anti-banking scheme didn’t prosper long-term though it certainly did briefly. And I am certainly not advocating that we start a bank, or mint our own currency – that’d be c-u-u-r-r-e-n-c-y. On the other hand, what I am admiring, is the way Mormon history is littered with instances of thinking outside the box: not just what’s already done but what could be done. I love the Kirtland anti-bank story for its commitment, even in all its outrageousness. I admire, and envy, the commitment of millions who actually tithe – and it’s hard – but they do it, and their congregations are inestimably buoyed and empowered by their generosity. Let me be clear, I’m not suggesting that here at UUCSS we tithe, though anyone who chooses to do so is very welcome and thanks in advance. But I envy them what their commitment affords them, and I know we deserve that kind of self-respect and vision among ourselves. No UU congregation, and no UU congregant anywhere should think so little of themselves and of us all, that they would do anything but ask with pride for what you can give to make this movement, to which we have all already pledged ourselves, most precious of all, to make this movement, this faith, this congregation all it can be, all we wish for, all the world is starving for.

What I am wishful for is changing how we think – or at least diversifying how we think, so that it’s not only about what do we need now or tomorrow, but bigger and less immediate but even more important – what deserves that we reach very high, and dig very deep? What are we not doing already that is imperative to create for the future? What does our faith, in action, impel us to do or create, for ourselves and for the larger community?

We already know and experience the beauty and spirit and compassion and commitment filling our walls and our work together. And you don’t need me to narrate it for you anyway. It is apparent in our full Sunday services and our transition to two services this January, in all the inreach groups and lay ministry and deaf access in our services and religious education and the one-on-one experiences you may have had with each other that I may never learn of, in our excellent religious education program and all the programs and social action initiatives and room for growth and development that are available to all here, in the range of ages and ethnicities and cultures and lifestyles and faith-journeys that increase all the time, adding to the beautiful quilt of experience and reflection and sharing that is this community.

(Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now)

So I’m not going to review all that (!) to inspire your pledge this year. Because what is also inspiring right now is not what we’ve already created, but what lies before us. And some of it is not only inspiring, at least to me, some of it is imperative. Even as we continue to build carefully and well a church infrastructure that will be a firm foundation for whatever we undertake, it is time also to begin to work beyond the bounds of our walls and our faith community.

I think, I hope, that I know how history will look back on this era and I know what I want to be able to say: that I did everything I could to fight the propagandistic operations of this White House and the wave of vain nationalism, and demolition of civil rights and respect for other countries and other opinions and overspending on all the wrong things and the establishment of bible-based government as interpreted by the likes of Pat Robertson and the rolling back of environmental regulations and slashing school funding and food and work and after-school programs for the underprivileged and creating exclusionary definitions of marriage for straights only. And I truly believe that investment: spiritual, social, emotional and financial, in our faith and in our congregation is one of the most meaningful ways I can stand up for what I believe and work to swing the pendulum. I have, this year, partly because of your generosity, given to Tsunami relief, Equality Maryland, the NSPCA, the Democratic National Committee, NOW, the Sierra Club, Hurrican Katrina relief, the NAACP and the Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring – by far the most to the last. And this is why that feels so right:

Last spring I quoted Jim Wallis in his book God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get it. Wallis writes, “[P]rophetic faith is the best counterpoint to fundamentalist religion. We bring faith into the public square when our moral convictions demand it. But to influence a democratic society, you must win the public debate about why the policies you advocate are better for the common good. That’s the democratic discipline religion has to be under when it brings its faith to the public square. And some religious fundamentalists haven’t learned that yet. But religious people shouldn’t be told just to be quiet; they should be invited to participate as citizens who have the right and the obligation to bring their deepest moral convictions to the public square for the democratic discourse on the most important values and directions that will shape our society.” (p. 71)

I’m still very much where I was then when I wrote:
“Though Wallis is critiquing fundamentalism’s approach to public policy, his words hold also for liberals, the left, as well. At least the right has brought their faith to the public square, even if they’re trying to shut up, overwhelm, ostracize or persecute, everyone who doesn’t agree. We don’t get it, somehow, that we also need to bring our faith to the public square, and not only bring it there, and preach it, but win the debate about why the policies we advocate are better for the common good. Frankly, to me, as a believing Unitarian Universalist, I think the latter charge is a piece of cake. World events have evolved into a perfect setting to prophesy our polity, our way that combines respect, self-reflection, openness, pluralism and democratic process. We have an extraordinary stage to walk onto, and we indeed must, as Wallis urges, begin to speak our faith not only evangelistically so as to grow our numbers and thus our influence, but also prophetically so that even those who will not join us as Unitarian Universalists will hear our message and join with us from their own firm faith location in defining and upholding our values, our beautiful, liberal, values against the torrent that is threatening, even seeking, to drown them.

The challenge for us is in the first part: bringing it to the public square. For far too long we have sat back and enjoyed the satisfaction of another seeker entering our doors and proclaiming their homecoming, often also proclaiming their earlier belonging had they only known before that we existed. That people wandered in the desert for 40 years before finding their way to us cannot remain a satisfaction to us. In times like these, it becomes a shame. We must be known, accessible, renowned even, for who and what we are. We are worldly and we believe that there is not virtue in merely suiting ourselves like the early religious mystics, off in remote desert enclaves, or enduring privations or sitting on lofty poles impressed with our faith commitment and abilities that only we ourselves witness or understand. We must be prophetic, we must take our faith to the public square, to meetings, to interfaith associations, to political events, to radio, to television – the prophet may not be respected in his own land, but he, or she, is not even heard if we do not speak aloud the truths we know and hold. We hear a lot about the battle for hearts and minds in Iraq. There is another one here in the US, and we need to engage. We need to speak both to those who listen and to those who deny us, until we have won our place in the dialogue, until people know that the right does not own ‘values’ and ‘family’ and ‘love’ and ‘life’ and ‘marriage.’

I know the urgency I feel to grow our Unitarian Universalist presence within and beyond this congregation, and I know that the world strikes and fans this flame in me as much or more than my irrevocable, awestruck, fleeting, vulnerable impressions of God’s presence in creation and my connection, my relationship, to that presence. We need to answer the right with our own unapologetic truths and welcome the consequences of preaching our prophetic faith, mixed though they will be.”

In that sermon last spring I also said:
“This church has made choices in recent years that are enormously telling. Time and again, you have chosen to grow, to invest, to commit, to deepen, to broaden. Time and again, you have not chosen the easy way, the convenient way, the usual way, the cheap way. You have committed with your time, your energy, your money, your patience, your courage, your vision, that you will not settle for what is the least trouble or the most familiar. The choices you have made are making this church important. We are just turning a corner, not only in size, not only in how we are organized or staffed or scheduled, we are turning a corner in fundamental identity and becoming something new, something powerful, something very exciting. We are transcending our old self, leaving that cocoon of familiarity behind and growing into a new existence, new abilities, learning we have wings and beginning to use them. We can feel currents and breezes that were beyond us before but that now will lift and urge us on. We are growing into a mature institution with a powerful, essential message for our times. I do believe we are going to fly.

Part of my mind had already begun to think about where the church is in its institutional life, and where we might go from here. I invited you to join in such reflections, to consider this pivotal time in the life of this church for all it can mean, not only to each of us here already, but to all those who are still out in the desert, who have not yet come home here, where they will root themselves and their families, their lives, their loving, their values. I asked us to look high and wide and large for what our charge should be as we move forward, as we grow, as we learn to find out where we can lead, and take steps along that path.

This year’s canvass is another step on that path. We hope to be webcasting services live by the end of this year. In January we open our church for two services on Sundays with music and religious education at both services. We will have grown the position of Director of Religious Education to full-time, also in January. We are in conversation with our Muslim friends about further interfaith exploration and experiences between them and us, and called on with confidence for support to them when they suffer religious persecution. What other, larger opportunities should we create to bring our message and our values out to people? Do we need a cable ministry? A youth outreach center? Dance lessons for our leadership? How about an ESL program that connects us to the new immigrants continually entering Montgomery county? Or a UU charter school? Perhaps a liberal religious family planning outreach clinic? What a thrilling range of opportunity our times offer us. Where can our prophetic faith take us? What does it offer us? What does it deserve from us? Where do we want to go? How will we reach out beyond ‘people like us?’ It’s all ours, yours and mine. The strength of this church, the relevance of this faith, the crises of our time all offer a range of opportunities that not only boggle the mind, but fire the spirit, even thrill us, if we let them, if we focus on our truths and their consequences. Creative spirit, may we let them, may we be thrilled, fired, boggled into this next stage of our existence, may we be the church we can and should be, may we fly.”

Amen.