[10/2/05] Welcome Table
by Rebecca Rod
"Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!" After "Good Morning,": these are the first words off the lips of our celebrant each and every Sunday morning as we settle in for our worship service. And, despite our big mouthful of a church name, it starts to roll off the tongue with a little practice.
Why don't you all give it a try with me right now!--"Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!" OK--once more with feeling, and a little more volume! "Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!"
Maybe we should do that all together every week--get ourselves jump-started with this cheer for the home team in one big voice to help us shake those last grains of Sunday sleep from our heads.
So, we start off each Sunday morning with this kind of cheer that identifies us and locates us, but, more than that, in the very first word--"Welcome!"--clearly declares to everyone who has come through our doors that they are wanted, embraced, and even gladly hailed (according to Webster). So, "Welcome!" And we mean it, don't we? Of course we do. And yet, like all words and phrases that through rote and repetition eventually come to be spoken "for granted," we may be somewhat out of touch with what that "Welcome" word can fully mean, both for us as a congregation, and for those who come through our doors for the first time on any given Sunday.
By now, most of us know many of the reasons why the newcomers come--we know because they are who we were some number of years, or months, or weeks ago. So we know for instance, that some people come intentionally seeking a UU church because they belonged to one elsewhere. Or that others come already knowing a bit about us, and are intentionally seeking a liberal denomination. Still others come here out of a kind of curiosity--maybe they've seen some interesting blurb of ours in the Churches column of the newspaper. People who are parents come here looking for a religious education for their children, and then there are many adults who come to us as religious refugees from other denominations. There are folks who come here for the sense of community we offer--not to mention the fun parties they've heard that we have. And then there are those who come here because they have somehow heard that this church is a safe haven with a welcome atmosphere for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
As many of you already know, I am one of those people. I came here almost thirteen years ago when I was church-shopping, because I heard the Unitarians had hired a new minister who loved music, and also happened to be a lesbian. Imagine that! It was definitely a sign for me that this was a church where I could be who I was openly and safely. And indeed, I was completely welcomed here in every way – not "conditionally" welcomed as some churches might have taken me in, with prayerful hopes for my cure and rehabilitation--but fully welcomed for who I was. And there are a number of other Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender people here who regularly attend our services, and some who've become members of our church, who I know have felt welcomed here as well.
In addition to our being just so darn warm and friendly, there are plenty of institutional ways in which we are already an inclusive and welcoming congregation. Officially, we include sexual orientation in the non-discrimination clauses of our by-laws and other church documents. Our church is open and available for the celebration of same-sex commitment ceremonies, which are often performed by our ministers. Many of you attended my and Theresa's own blessed event here over nine years ago.
Our board and committee positions are completely open to everyone--in fact, you would have to hide pretty well not to be asked to serve on something! We consciously use inclusive language in our worship services. And, as a congregation, we have hired two gay ministers in the last 15 years. And so on. I think you get the idea that there are certainly plenty of indications that we have done pretty well here on the GLBT welcoming front.
That said, I still want to stretch the welcoming theme a bit more this morning to see if we might be willing as a congregation to commit ourselves to expanding the boundaries of our welcome-ness even further, toward its ever-loving limitless limits.
Think back for a minute to this morning's Call to Worship. When you raise your voice in singing, [sing] "We're gonna sit at the welcome table . . . " what in that song do you connect with? Is there meaning in it for you personally? Do you place yourself in it or anyone you know--relatives? Friends? In this song, slaves dream of a day when they'll be included at the Welcome Table. But, in reality, at that time the singer-slave's best chance of inclusion was at the Welcome Table in heaven--after death.
When I sing that song, I, too, am singing out a dream that permeates my life--my own desire for full inclusion at the Welcome table, but in the here and now. This is a desire shared by all GLBT people. We see what's on that table--benefits and rights and privileges that only those deemed acceptable in our society have--and we want to pull up our chairs, too. And there is some good reason to believe these things can happen in our lifetime--so much has been accomplished to move us further toward inclusion. But we need help to accomplish these things. We need you by our side inside and outside the welcoming atmosphere of this church. We need you to walk with us, and stand with us, so that we can eventually all sit down at that table together.
One thing we can do to move forward on this front is to finish our process of becoming an official UUA Welcoming Congregation. We took our first steps toward this goal earlier this year, thanks to Ken Faunce, who got us started. He led a group of us in completing the UUA Welcoming Congregation course last spring.
It was a little tricky getting the thing off the ground because on the very first night a couple of people who came expressed their feeling that we were already a welcoming congregation, so why did we need to do this? You may think the same thing today, and for good reasons--many of which I've given earlier about how welcoming we already are. We discussed this a bit in the group, and ultimately, we opted to just withhold on that judgment and trust the process, and that's what we did. There were usually about 5-6 of us congregational members at each session, and three faithful gay students from the University of Idaho who hung in there with us.
We forged ahead, participating in exercises and discussions that were designed to probe our attitudes and prejudices, positive and negative, toward Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender people and issues. We examined our personal ideas and biases about sexuality and gender in search of their roots to see how they shaped our view of GLBT people and their relationships. We looked at the terms, acceptable and unacceptable, that our society uses for various sexual orientations, to see how they help and hurt in their categorization of people. We reflected on our own thoughts and experiences regarding GLBT people and issues in our church, and talked about ways to improve our outreach to that community.
It was an interesting exercise in stick-to-it-tive-ness to complete the course. Even when people felt the material didn't hold anything new, we stayed with it. And even if there were no big surprises, I think it was worthwhile. We laughed together, we got embarrassed, we rolled our eyes, drew weird pictures, and laughed a bit more. I even cried once--I think just to have the opportunity to talk about this stuff in a group. It was a first for me.
And even if the others might tell you there were no real "aha" moments for them--I wonder. When you get a group of people together over a series of weeks and you talk and share and reflect on some fairly deep and personal issues, I think something happens that's close to revelation. Here's my two cents worth: Consciousness is raised. Even if it's just a millimeter, something new is brought forth, exposed, elevated. Connections are made that didn't exist before between thoughts and ideas, between people and groups, and it radiates out from there. Yes, it was worth it. And one more step was made toward achieving our Welcoming Congregation status.
Now it's your turn.
Now our whole congregation will be drawn into the process by taking a vote on whether we want to become a Welcoming Congregation. This will also take the form of a pledge, like the draft pledge you find in your bulletins today. There will be a congregational meeting next Sunday when the vote will be taken, so I hope you will all show up for that. Then, if the vote is affirmative to go ahead, the UUA will issue us a plaque at the end of the process confirming that we are indeed an official Welcoming Congregation.
Now, if you're still thinking, "Why bother doing all this for a plaque to hang on the wall that says we are what we already feel we are?"--I guess my final answer is that we're not doing this just for us. We're doing it for the people we don't know yet that will be coming through our doors. Barring the wonderful work of our vigilant Membership Committee, at least a few new folks will probably get in here and out again on a Sunday morning or for a Saturday night concert, or some other event, without any of us having the chance to personally welcome them. But there will be a plaque out there in the foyer, an affirming symbol that they will see hanging on the wall somewhere prominently, stating that we are an open and safe space for them to be who they are. And that may well be enough to make them come back and give us a chance at a real Welcome --to our Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!
"Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!" After "Good Morning,": these are the first words off the lips of our celebrant each and every Sunday morning as we settle in for our worship service. And, despite our big mouthful of a church name, it starts to roll off the tongue with a little practice.
Why don't you all give it a try with me right now!--"Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!" OK--once more with feeling, and a little more volume! "Welcome to the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!"
Maybe we should do that all together every week--get ourselves jump-started with this cheer for the home team in one big voice to help us shake those last grains of Sunday sleep from our heads.
So, we start off each Sunday morning with this kind of cheer that identifies us and locates us, but, more than that, in the very first word--"Welcome!"--clearly declares to everyone who has come through our doors that they are wanted, embraced, and even gladly hailed (according to Webster). So, "Welcome!" And we mean it, don't we? Of course we do. And yet, like all words and phrases that through rote and repetition eventually come to be spoken "for granted," we may be somewhat out of touch with what that "Welcome" word can fully mean, both for us as a congregation, and for those who come through our doors for the first time on any given Sunday.
By now, most of us know many of the reasons why the newcomers come--we know because they are who we were some number of years, or months, or weeks ago. So we know for instance, that some people come intentionally seeking a UU church because they belonged to one elsewhere. Or that others come already knowing a bit about us, and are intentionally seeking a liberal denomination. Still others come here out of a kind of curiosity--maybe they've seen some interesting blurb of ours in the Churches column of the newspaper. People who are parents come here looking for a religious education for their children, and then there are many adults who come to us as religious refugees from other denominations. There are folks who come here for the sense of community we offer--not to mention the fun parties they've heard that we have. And then there are those who come here because they have somehow heard that this church is a safe haven with a welcome atmosphere for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
As many of you already know, I am one of those people. I came here almost thirteen years ago when I was church-shopping, because I heard the Unitarians had hired a new minister who loved music, and also happened to be a lesbian. Imagine that! It was definitely a sign for me that this was a church where I could be who I was openly and safely. And indeed, I was completely welcomed here in every way – not "conditionally" welcomed as some churches might have taken me in, with prayerful hopes for my cure and rehabilitation--but fully welcomed for who I was. And there are a number of other Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender people here who regularly attend our services, and some who've become members of our church, who I know have felt welcomed here as well.
In addition to our being just so darn warm and friendly, there are plenty of institutional ways in which we are already an inclusive and welcoming congregation. Officially, we include sexual orientation in the non-discrimination clauses of our by-laws and other church documents. Our church is open and available for the celebration of same-sex commitment ceremonies, which are often performed by our ministers. Many of you attended my and Theresa's own blessed event here over nine years ago.
Our board and committee positions are completely open to everyone--in fact, you would have to hide pretty well not to be asked to serve on something! We consciously use inclusive language in our worship services. And, as a congregation, we have hired two gay ministers in the last 15 years. And so on. I think you get the idea that there are certainly plenty of indications that we have done pretty well here on the GLBT welcoming front.
That said, I still want to stretch the welcoming theme a bit more this morning to see if we might be willing as a congregation to commit ourselves to expanding the boundaries of our welcome-ness even further, toward its ever-loving limitless limits.
Think back for a minute to this morning's Call to Worship. When you raise your voice in singing, [sing] "We're gonna sit at the welcome table . . . " what in that song do you connect with? Is there meaning in it for you personally? Do you place yourself in it or anyone you know--relatives? Friends? In this song, slaves dream of a day when they'll be included at the Welcome Table. But, in reality, at that time the singer-slave's best chance of inclusion was at the Welcome Table in heaven--after death.
When I sing that song, I, too, am singing out a dream that permeates my life--my own desire for full inclusion at the Welcome table, but in the here and now. This is a desire shared by all GLBT people. We see what's on that table--benefits and rights and privileges that only those deemed acceptable in our society have--and we want to pull up our chairs, too. And there is some good reason to believe these things can happen in our lifetime--so much has been accomplished to move us further toward inclusion. But we need help to accomplish these things. We need you by our side inside and outside the welcoming atmosphere of this church. We need you to walk with us, and stand with us, so that we can eventually all sit down at that table together.
One thing we can do to move forward on this front is to finish our process of becoming an official UUA Welcoming Congregation. We took our first steps toward this goal earlier this year, thanks to Ken Faunce, who got us started. He led a group of us in completing the UUA Welcoming Congregation course last spring.
It was a little tricky getting the thing off the ground because on the very first night a couple of people who came expressed their feeling that we were already a welcoming congregation, so why did we need to do this? You may think the same thing today, and for good reasons--many of which I've given earlier about how welcoming we already are. We discussed this a bit in the group, and ultimately, we opted to just withhold on that judgment and trust the process, and that's what we did. There were usually about 5-6 of us congregational members at each session, and three faithful gay students from the University of Idaho who hung in there with us.
We forged ahead, participating in exercises and discussions that were designed to probe our attitudes and prejudices, positive and negative, toward Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender people and issues. We examined our personal ideas and biases about sexuality and gender in search of their roots to see how they shaped our view of GLBT people and their relationships. We looked at the terms, acceptable and unacceptable, that our society uses for various sexual orientations, to see how they help and hurt in their categorization of people. We reflected on our own thoughts and experiences regarding GLBT people and issues in our church, and talked about ways to improve our outreach to that community.
It was an interesting exercise in stick-to-it-tive-ness to complete the course. Even when people felt the material didn't hold anything new, we stayed with it. And even if there were no big surprises, I think it was worthwhile. We laughed together, we got embarrassed, we rolled our eyes, drew weird pictures, and laughed a bit more. I even cried once--I think just to have the opportunity to talk about this stuff in a group. It was a first for me.
And even if the others might tell you there were no real "aha" moments for them--I wonder. When you get a group of people together over a series of weeks and you talk and share and reflect on some fairly deep and personal issues, I think something happens that's close to revelation. Here's my two cents worth: Consciousness is raised. Even if it's just a millimeter, something new is brought forth, exposed, elevated. Connections are made that didn't exist before between thoughts and ideas, between people and groups, and it radiates out from there. Yes, it was worth it. And one more step was made toward achieving our Welcoming Congregation status.
Now it's your turn.
Now our whole congregation will be drawn into the process by taking a vote on whether we want to become a Welcoming Congregation. This will also take the form of a pledge, like the draft pledge you find in your bulletins today. There will be a congregational meeting next Sunday when the vote will be taken, so I hope you will all show up for that. Then, if the vote is affirmative to go ahead, the UUA will issue us a plaque at the end of the process confirming that we are indeed an official Welcoming Congregation.
Now, if you're still thinking, "Why bother doing all this for a plaque to hang on the wall that says we are what we already feel we are?"--I guess my final answer is that we're not doing this just for us. We're doing it for the people we don't know yet that will be coming through our doors. Barring the wonderful work of our vigilant Membership Committee, at least a few new folks will probably get in here and out again on a Sunday morning or for a Saturday night concert, or some other event, without any of us having the chance to personally welcome them. But there will be a plaque out there in the foyer, an affirming symbol that they will see hanging on the wall somewhere prominently, stating that we are an open and safe space for them to be who they are. And that may well be enough to make them come back and give us a chance at a real Welcome --to our Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse!
posted by UUCP Sermons at 12:40 PM
