[11/25/05] Giving
by Rev. Patti Pomerantz
As predicted I spent the week in Portland eating too much, getting over stimulated and not paying particular attention to what is means to give. I'm quite sure that we all give. We give to our families, our jobs, our community, global causes, this church in any number of different ways.
How many here contribute to Sunday programming--worship, religious ed, greeting, preparing announcements and inserts, preparing coffee, selling fair trade coffee, being celebrant, or story teller, or presenter? How many of you contribute to the maintenance of our building and property? How many contribute to weekly programming, the newsletter, special events? How many of you are part of the caring team, small group ministries, the board, committees? Our living faith exists only to the extent that we give to it. And in Unitarian Universalism we decide how we give with no creedal instruction, no dues, no regulations or expectations by district or associational governing bodies.
As I lumbered back to Moscow trying to shed the trypophane daze, I realized I could not speak to you about your pledge to this year's canvas--not without taking stock of what giving means in my own life. I've made my pledge and I've cajoled you to give yours. And if you have, perhaps you feel the satisfaction of expressing your commitment to this community. I do. But I realized there's another layer of giving where I fall short. I know because I've recognized examples of it. I'm going to share two with you today--examples that push me to question my own commitment to giving.
The first is about a classmate of mine. Perhaps you remember my friend Shelley who walked from Indiana to Washington, DC, because she wanted to do something for peace. This is part of her reflection upon returning home to New Castle and her family.
Being for Peace Means Loving One Another
[A sermon by Shelley Newby; New Castle, IN Nov 2005]
"On October 17, I woke up at home. After six weeks of daily awakening in the home of a new stranger turned friend, being at home feels really good. So does the realization that I faithfully completed the 560-mile faith walk for peace from New Castle, Indiana, to Washington D.C. that was inspired by a vision received in April during my daily prayer and meditation time. What I have to share with you this morning are some reflections and experiences from this walk.
"Mine was a faith walk for peace. I was walking for peace rather than anti anything. It was a positive rather than negative action. You see, I-ve come to understand, that being anti-war invites conflict, which is the opposite of what we want to do if we are striving for peace. Being for peace, on the other hand, invites conversation, hope, and possibility.
"Many wondered if I was a pacifist. The answer to this is more complicated than you might think. As I have said, I am committed to being positive, to taking positive action. The definition of a pacifist is, 'one who opposes war.' . . . Being an opponent sets up the dynamic of we/they, a competition to be right and prove the other wrong or to win and make the other lose. It plants the seeds of conflict, the roots of the very thing the pacifist wants to avoid--war.
"Rather than surrender pacifism altogether, I am wondering if it is time to redefine it, time to take it further than we have thought to go in the past. Since now we are more aware of the power of our thoughts and words, isn't it time we used only positive language to describe pacifism and in that way incite only positive action? This would invite us into new understandings about how to be peacemakers in the world. I'd like to see the definition of a pacifist as: one who endlessly seeks peaceful resolutions to conflict. The groundwork for this is listening to the other with the intention of finding shared beliefs and common ground; it is agreeing to disagree and enduring the discomfort until way opens to agreement.
"Currently the beliefs, decisions, and actions of many are too often based in fear or anger--powerful motivators, no doubt, but negative rather than positive ones. Many argue for the value of anger to empower people to take action--particularly where there are injustices. Anger can be a great motivator to take that first step, but . . . anger ostracizes the opponent and limits their ability to join the cause, even if eventually they see the good in it. 'You're right, I am wrong,' are hard words for most of us to speak, especially when the setting is charged with anger.
"Though some more than others understood my message of being for something rather than against, of taking positive action in the world rather than negative, I felt a connection to each, and I believe they felt the same. I pray these individual conversations planted the seeds of peace in their lives as well. Perhaps the man in the red truck talked to his son at the dinner table that night in a new way, or the clerk at the BP called her mother and said, 'I love you.' I'll never know. But I do know that we can all have a positive impact if we simply choose to seek commonality rather than conflict, compassion over pride, love instead of anger, and faith that God makes what we do enough.
"You see, peace, like conflict, begins in small ways, in every day interactions between people like you and me. Being a peacemaker means seeing strangers as potential friends. It means being kind to one another--even if the other is a cranky check out clerk or a hateful neighbor. Being a peacemaker has nothing to do with opposing our spouse, our boss, or anyone who sees things differently than we do. Being a peacemaker demands that we love our way through any conflict . . . that we love one another."
I like to think there are some UU influences in Shelley's understanding of peace and I read her words with a certain satisfaction in my own UU evangelism. But there is so much more here for me to learn. Although she probably doesn't see it this way, I see that Shelley took herself out of her life-- especially her high school aged daughter --to literally walk her talk. 560 miles of strange beds, wet highway, unknown companions--because her heart told her she had to do this--not the why, she didn't know the why, she probably still doesn't know the whole why--just the walk. Could I live so true to my own principles? None of us know what it will take to tip the scales from greed and fear to love. If I could be the one and I don't respond to the call – how then do I live?
The second story is from a book called Soul Work. It is a series of discussions on racism about how UU's do and do not, can and cannot have an impact on dismantling racism. This excerpt is from a lecture by the Rev. Dr. James Cone, a black theologian and one of two non-Unitarian Universalists who were invited into this dialog. Cone went to seminary in the 60--a time when theology schools taught of no black theologians, not even those who were acting their commitments in our national community. After his training he wrote a book about black liberation theology. It is an angry book and thirty years later, Dr. Cone spoke to Unitarian Universalists about what we're doing--and not doing--to dismantle racism.
James Cone
[From Soul Work: Anti Racist Theologies in Dialogue, Skinner House Books, 2003, pp. 1 --15]
"Physical death is only one aspect of racism that raises serious theological questions. Spiritual death is another, and it is just as destructive, in not more so, for it destroys the soul of both the racists and their victims. Racism is hatred gone amok; it is violence against one's spiritual self. As James Baldwin put it, 'It is a terrible, an inexorable law that one cannot deny the humanity of another without diminishing one's own; in the face of one's victim, one sees oneself.'
"We are all bound together, inseparably linked by a common humanity. What we do to one another, we do to ourselves. That was why Martin King was absolutely committed to nonviolence. Anything less, he believed, was self-inflicted violence against one's soul. 'Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate.'
Racism is particularly alive and well in America. It is America's original sin and, as it is institutionalized at all levels of society, its most persistent and intractable evil.
"Before we can get whites to confront racism, we need to know why they avoid it.
"Most importantly, whites do not talk about racism because they do not have to talk about it. They have most of the power in the world--economic, political, social, cultural, intellectual and religious . . . Powerful people do not talk, except on their own terms and almost never at the behest of others. All the powerless can do is disrupt--make life uncomfortable for the ruling elites. That is why Martin King called the urban riots and Black Power the 'language of the unheard.' The quality of white life is hardly ever affected by what blacks think or do."
White theologians and ministers avoid racial dialogue because talk about white supremacy arouses deep feelings of guilt.
Another reason whites avoid race topics with African Americans is because they do not want to engage black rage. White-s do not mind talking as long as blacks don-t get too emotional, too carried away with their stories of hurt . . . That is why [whites] preferred Martin King to Malcolm X. Malcolm spoke with too much rage for their social taste. He made whites feel uncomfortable because he confronted them with their terrible crimes against black humanity.
Whites do not say much about racial justice because they are not prepared for a radical redistribution of wealth and power. No group gives up power freely; power must be taken against the will of those who have it. Fighting white supremacy means dismantling white privilege in the society, in the churches and in theology . . . Talking about how to destroy white supremacy is a daily task and not just for consultations and conferences. If we talk about white supremacy only at special occasions set aside for that, the problem will never be solved. People of color do not have the luxury of just dealing with racism in church meetings . . . No day passes in which blacks don't have to deal with white supremacy.
Rosemary Bray McNatt, one of the few UU clergy of color tells this story in the same book. [p 27] She talks of a conversation she had many years ago with Coretta Scott King. McNatt tells of the conversation this way, first quoting King. "Oh I went to Unitarian churches for years, even before I met Martin . . . And Martin and I went to Unitarian churches when we were in Boston. . . " McNatt continues,
"'What surprised and saddened me most was what she said next, and though I am paraphrasing, the gist of it was this: "We gave a lot of thought to becoming Unitarian at one time, but Martin and I realized we could never build a mass movement of black people if we were Unitarian.
It was a statement that pierced my heart and troubled my mind, both then and now. I considered what this religious movement would be like if Dr. King had chosen differently, had decided to cast his lot with our faith instead of returning to his roots as an African American Christian. And what troubled me most was my realization that our liberal religious movement would have utterly neutralized the greatest American theologian of the twentieth century.""
I haven't finished this reflection. I don't know what to say next. I'm hoping you can help me.
(c) Rev. Patti Pomeranz, 2005
As predicted I spent the week in Portland eating too much, getting over stimulated and not paying particular attention to what is means to give. I'm quite sure that we all give. We give to our families, our jobs, our community, global causes, this church in any number of different ways.
How many here contribute to Sunday programming--worship, religious ed, greeting, preparing announcements and inserts, preparing coffee, selling fair trade coffee, being celebrant, or story teller, or presenter? How many of you contribute to the maintenance of our building and property? How many contribute to weekly programming, the newsletter, special events? How many of you are part of the caring team, small group ministries, the board, committees? Our living faith exists only to the extent that we give to it. And in Unitarian Universalism we decide how we give with no creedal instruction, no dues, no regulations or expectations by district or associational governing bodies.
As I lumbered back to Moscow trying to shed the trypophane daze, I realized I could not speak to you about your pledge to this year's canvas--not without taking stock of what giving means in my own life. I've made my pledge and I've cajoled you to give yours. And if you have, perhaps you feel the satisfaction of expressing your commitment to this community. I do. But I realized there's another layer of giving where I fall short. I know because I've recognized examples of it. I'm going to share two with you today--examples that push me to question my own commitment to giving.
The first is about a classmate of mine. Perhaps you remember my friend Shelley who walked from Indiana to Washington, DC, because she wanted to do something for peace. This is part of her reflection upon returning home to New Castle and her family.
Being for Peace Means Loving One Another
[A sermon by Shelley Newby; New Castle, IN Nov 2005]
"On October 17, I woke up at home. After six weeks of daily awakening in the home of a new stranger turned friend, being at home feels really good. So does the realization that I faithfully completed the 560-mile faith walk for peace from New Castle, Indiana, to Washington D.C. that was inspired by a vision received in April during my daily prayer and meditation time. What I have to share with you this morning are some reflections and experiences from this walk.
"Mine was a faith walk for peace. I was walking for peace rather than anti anything. It was a positive rather than negative action. You see, I-ve come to understand, that being anti-war invites conflict, which is the opposite of what we want to do if we are striving for peace. Being for peace, on the other hand, invites conversation, hope, and possibility.
"Many wondered if I was a pacifist. The answer to this is more complicated than you might think. As I have said, I am committed to being positive, to taking positive action. The definition of a pacifist is, 'one who opposes war.' . . . Being an opponent sets up the dynamic of we/they, a competition to be right and prove the other wrong or to win and make the other lose. It plants the seeds of conflict, the roots of the very thing the pacifist wants to avoid--war.
"Rather than surrender pacifism altogether, I am wondering if it is time to redefine it, time to take it further than we have thought to go in the past. Since now we are more aware of the power of our thoughts and words, isn't it time we used only positive language to describe pacifism and in that way incite only positive action? This would invite us into new understandings about how to be peacemakers in the world. I'd like to see the definition of a pacifist as: one who endlessly seeks peaceful resolutions to conflict. The groundwork for this is listening to the other with the intention of finding shared beliefs and common ground; it is agreeing to disagree and enduring the discomfort until way opens to agreement.
"Currently the beliefs, decisions, and actions of many are too often based in fear or anger--powerful motivators, no doubt, but negative rather than positive ones. Many argue for the value of anger to empower people to take action--particularly where there are injustices. Anger can be a great motivator to take that first step, but . . . anger ostracizes the opponent and limits their ability to join the cause, even if eventually they see the good in it. 'You're right, I am wrong,' are hard words for most of us to speak, especially when the setting is charged with anger.
"Though some more than others understood my message of being for something rather than against, of taking positive action in the world rather than negative, I felt a connection to each, and I believe they felt the same. I pray these individual conversations planted the seeds of peace in their lives as well. Perhaps the man in the red truck talked to his son at the dinner table that night in a new way, or the clerk at the BP called her mother and said, 'I love you.' I'll never know. But I do know that we can all have a positive impact if we simply choose to seek commonality rather than conflict, compassion over pride, love instead of anger, and faith that God makes what we do enough.
"You see, peace, like conflict, begins in small ways, in every day interactions between people like you and me. Being a peacemaker means seeing strangers as potential friends. It means being kind to one another--even if the other is a cranky check out clerk or a hateful neighbor. Being a peacemaker has nothing to do with opposing our spouse, our boss, or anyone who sees things differently than we do. Being a peacemaker demands that we love our way through any conflict . . . that we love one another."
I like to think there are some UU influences in Shelley's understanding of peace and I read her words with a certain satisfaction in my own UU evangelism. But there is so much more here for me to learn. Although she probably doesn't see it this way, I see that Shelley took herself out of her life-- especially her high school aged daughter --to literally walk her talk. 560 miles of strange beds, wet highway, unknown companions--because her heart told her she had to do this--not the why, she didn't know the why, she probably still doesn't know the whole why--just the walk. Could I live so true to my own principles? None of us know what it will take to tip the scales from greed and fear to love. If I could be the one and I don't respond to the call – how then do I live?
The second story is from a book called Soul Work. It is a series of discussions on racism about how UU's do and do not, can and cannot have an impact on dismantling racism. This excerpt is from a lecture by the Rev. Dr. James Cone, a black theologian and one of two non-Unitarian Universalists who were invited into this dialog. Cone went to seminary in the 60--a time when theology schools taught of no black theologians, not even those who were acting their commitments in our national community. After his training he wrote a book about black liberation theology. It is an angry book and thirty years later, Dr. Cone spoke to Unitarian Universalists about what we're doing--and not doing--to dismantle racism.
James Cone
[From Soul Work: Anti Racist Theologies in Dialogue, Skinner House Books, 2003, pp. 1 --15]
"Physical death is only one aspect of racism that raises serious theological questions. Spiritual death is another, and it is just as destructive, in not more so, for it destroys the soul of both the racists and their victims. Racism is hatred gone amok; it is violence against one's spiritual self. As James Baldwin put it, 'It is a terrible, an inexorable law that one cannot deny the humanity of another without diminishing one's own; in the face of one's victim, one sees oneself.'
"We are all bound together, inseparably linked by a common humanity. What we do to one another, we do to ourselves. That was why Martin King was absolutely committed to nonviolence. Anything less, he believed, was self-inflicted violence against one's soul. 'Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate.'
Racism is particularly alive and well in America. It is America's original sin and, as it is institutionalized at all levels of society, its most persistent and intractable evil.
"Before we can get whites to confront racism, we need to know why they avoid it.
"Most importantly, whites do not talk about racism because they do not have to talk about it. They have most of the power in the world--economic, political, social, cultural, intellectual and religious . . . Powerful people do not talk, except on their own terms and almost never at the behest of others. All the powerless can do is disrupt--make life uncomfortable for the ruling elites. That is why Martin King called the urban riots and Black Power the 'language of the unheard.' The quality of white life is hardly ever affected by what blacks think or do."
White theologians and ministers avoid racial dialogue because talk about white supremacy arouses deep feelings of guilt.
Another reason whites avoid race topics with African Americans is because they do not want to engage black rage. White-s do not mind talking as long as blacks don-t get too emotional, too carried away with their stories of hurt . . . That is why [whites] preferred Martin King to Malcolm X. Malcolm spoke with too much rage for their social taste. He made whites feel uncomfortable because he confronted them with their terrible crimes against black humanity.
Whites do not say much about racial justice because they are not prepared for a radical redistribution of wealth and power. No group gives up power freely; power must be taken against the will of those who have it. Fighting white supremacy means dismantling white privilege in the society, in the churches and in theology . . . Talking about how to destroy white supremacy is a daily task and not just for consultations and conferences. If we talk about white supremacy only at special occasions set aside for that, the problem will never be solved. People of color do not have the luxury of just dealing with racism in church meetings . . . No day passes in which blacks don't have to deal with white supremacy.
Rosemary Bray McNatt, one of the few UU clergy of color tells this story in the same book. [p 27] She talks of a conversation she had many years ago with Coretta Scott King. McNatt tells of the conversation this way, first quoting King. "Oh I went to Unitarian churches for years, even before I met Martin . . . And Martin and I went to Unitarian churches when we were in Boston. . . " McNatt continues,
"'What surprised and saddened me most was what she said next, and though I am paraphrasing, the gist of it was this: "We gave a lot of thought to becoming Unitarian at one time, but Martin and I realized we could never build a mass movement of black people if we were Unitarian.
It was a statement that pierced my heart and troubled my mind, both then and now. I considered what this religious movement would be like if Dr. King had chosen differently, had decided to cast his lot with our faith instead of returning to his roots as an African American Christian. And what troubled me most was my realization that our liberal religious movement would have utterly neutralized the greatest American theologian of the twentieth century.""
I haven't finished this reflection. I don't know what to say next. I'm hoping you can help me.
(c) Rev. Patti Pomeranz, 2005
posted by UUCP Sermons at 12:30 PM
