Interdependence,
Part 1 of 3
Who
are the Rich People in Our Church?
March
6, 2005
ÍÎÏÐÑÒÓÔ
A human life is like a single letter of the
alphabet.
It can be meaningless.
Or it can be a part of a great meaning.
"We are
here to abet creation and to witness to it.... To notice each other’s beautiful
face and complex nature.... So that creation need not play to an empty
house." [Annie Dillard]
Thank you for
bringing your beautiful face, and complex nature, here today. By
collecting together all of the energies of our lives, we co-create with the
inter-dependent web of life. By gathering as we do, in gratitude, we serve as
witnesses to its unfathomable wonders.
Over the next
few weeks I would like to weave through several themes related to inter-dependence. That is: being, and
having—within the complex dynamics of a group. Individually and collectively we
have among us enormous resources:
·
our
social security accounts;
·
the
air we breath;
·
this
church, it’s past, it’s future;
·
the
interdependent web of all creation.
But who owns these resources? How do we
as a congregation—or a society—make fair & intelligent decisions about how
to utilize such resources? And how do we empower our chosen leaders to ensure
that our resources are not only preserved but expanded through the synergy of
co-operation? Today’s service, Interdependence Part 1, will focus upon
money and gratitude. Interdependence Part 2, two weeks from today, will
focus on the capacity of groups to make wise decisions together. Part 3,
On April 3, will be a conversation with Glenda Walker, Julie Stoneberg and
myself about the nature of leadership within a group of equals.
GATHERING SONG Gather
the Spirit #347
I'll never forget
Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister, Ocy, was 12, and my older sister,
Darlene, 16. We lived at home with our mother, and the four of us knew what it
was to do without many things. My dad
had died 5 years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids to raise and no
money. By 1946 my older sisters were married, and my brothers had left
home. A month before Easter, the pastor
of our church announced that a special Easter offering would be taken to help a
poor family. He asked everyone to save and to give sacrificially. When we got home, we talked about what we
could do. We decided to buy 50 pounds of potatoes and live on them for a month.
This would allow us to save $20 of our grocery money for the offering.
We thought that if we kept our lights turned out as much as possible and didn't
listen to the radio, we'd save money on that month's electric bill. Darlene got
as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us babysat for
everyone we could. For 15 cents, we could buy enough cotton loops to make three
pot holders to sell for $1. We made $20 on pot holders.
That month was one of the best of our lives. Every day we counted the money to
see how much we had saved. At night we'd sit in the dark and talk about how the
poor family was going to enjoy having the money the church would give them. We
had about 80 people in church, so we figured that whatever amount of money we
had to give, the offering would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the Pastor had reminded
everyone to save for the sacrificial offering.
The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got three
crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all of our change. That night we were so
excited we could hardly sleep. We didn't care that we wouldn't have new clothes
for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We could hardly wait to
get to church!
On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn't own an umbrella, and the church
was over a mile from our home, but it didn't seem to matter how wet we got.
Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the holes. The cardboard came apart,
and her feet got wet. But we sat in church proudly. I heard some teenagers
talking about the girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their
new clothes, and I felt so rich. When the sacrificial offering was taken, Mom
put in the $10 bill, and each of us put in a $20. As we walked home after
church, we sang all the way.
Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the door,
talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in her hand.
We asked what it was, but she didn't say a word. She opened the envelope and out fell a bunch
of money. There were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 bill and seventeen $1
bills. Mom put the money back in the envelope. We didn't talk, just stared at
the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling like poor
white trash. I knew we didn't have a lot
of things that other people had, but I'd never thought we were poor. That
Easter Day I found out we were.
I looked at my worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed that I didn't want to go back
to church. Everyone there probably already knew we were poor! I thought about
school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class. I wondered if the
kids at school knew we were poor. I decided I could quit school since I had
finished the eighth grade. All that week, we went to school and came home, and
no one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to do with
the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn't know. We didn't want to go to church on Sunday, but
Mom said we had to. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how
churches in Africa made buildings out of sun-dried bricks, but they need money
to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The minister said,
"Can't we all sacrifice to help these poor people?"
We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the
envelope. She passed it to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to
Ocy. Ocy put it in the plate. When the
offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100.
The missionary was excited. He hadn't expected such a large offering from our
small church. He said, "You must have some rich people in this
church."
And he was
right, we did.
Do you think
we have any rich people here in this church? Are any of you rich? How do you
know? Have you ever made money or spent money?
I would like
it if I could help you to know and feel how rich you are. For example, we
collect food here for food banks. You can bring cans of food here when you come
up for the story, or you can leave it in the basket at the back of the church.
Or you can give some of your allowance or money that you earn to the church. Or
you can share something that you can make or do for the auction that’s coming
up soon. [feed cats, mow lawns, make
cookies....]
There are two
reasons why I’d like you to find a way to give to the church. 1st
because by gathering up the smiles and the songs and the dollars and the
valentines and the kindness that you can bring each week , we can make this
place feel like it’s overflowing with smiles and songs and dollars and
valentines and kindness. I want these good things to always be here for you
when you need them... and I want you to know that you can be a part of making
that happen.
2nd
I would like you to feel the joy that the boy in the story talked about—how he
felt—being rich enough to give. It is a wonderful feeling, and one of the best
gifts that we adults can give to you children—to help you know what it’s like
to be generous, and to be thankful. And not just the idea, but the real
practice of giving and receiving.
After you go
today I hope that you’ll keep thinking about how you can put generosity and
thankfulness into practice in your life.
CHILDREN’S BLESSING From You I Receive #402
As I invite the ushers forward to collect our
offering today I would like to say to our visitors: please know that you are
our guests today. If anything, put a piece of paper with your contact
information in the collection plate, so that in the weeks ahead we may
introduce you the spirit and the practices of this church... and introduce you
to the joy we have found in building up this loving community.
==
==
Thank you for your Generosity. Thank you
for your financial gifts, and for sharing your time, sharing your talents and
sharing your true self. Thank you for loving, for forgiving, and for connecting
with the young and the old. Thank you for connecting with the new, and with the
well-established.
SINGING Wake
Now my Senses #298
I advertised this service as, “Who are
the rich people in this church?” Let’s get this part over with so we can move
on. If you’re rich, please stand. [thank you...]
On a fairly simple level, of course, just
living in the United States puts us in the top tier of global wealth. There are
real and often unconscionable economic differences among us, but still....
I once went to a dinner party designed to
raise awareness of global economic disparities.
Each of us paid about $20, not knowing whether ours was the single
ticket for a multi-course carnivore-type meal with wine and dessert. ...Or
whether we would end up with one of the several plates of mixed vegetables. The
largest group found that their ticket entitle them to serve the other diners,
and then eat rice with their hands in another room.
In the discussion following dinner a
variety of responses came forth—not unlike how I imagine you may have felt a
minute ago. How did you feel when I invited the rich people to stand?
Indignant? Annoyed? Invaded? Anxious? Unsure? Entitled? Embarrassed? Guilty?
Apologetic? Jealous? Grateful? All of these and more?
==
“Who are the rich people in our church?”
You might interpret the question to mean, “Who are the rich individuals?” But there’s another
meaning for the word “people.” In a number of languages, the word used to
identify the whole group simply means
“the people.” “Us.”
Who, or what, is this “US,”—this
church? By the numbers, we are a collection of about 200 voting members. That
is, adults who have signed the membership book and have pledged this year to
support the church financially. We are an additional 100 adults who participate
in church activities, many of whom pledge, many of whom contribute of their
time, their treasures, and their trust. And we are over 100 children soaking up
everything that happens here, soaking up everything that hangs in the atmosphere...
at every moment.
“We” are one out of 1,000 Unitarian
Universalist congregations covenanted together to affirm and promote respect
for the interdependent web of all
existence. And, we are an independent,
self-funded voluntary organization, with an annual operating budget of
$200,000. Since we’re committed to operating in the black, that’s $1,000 per
member per year. We are also the stewards of a $350,000 endowment and $100,000
in restricted funds. We are the inheritors of a multi-million dollar property.
Does this make us rich? Not necessarily
in economic terms—because economic wealth takes into account both assets and
liabilities.
==
But numbers aren’t everything when it
comes to being rich. What else might it mean to be rich? To have lives that
matter. To learn, to grow, to make good use of our assets – whether these
assets came from our physical labors, from creative means of trading up, or as
gifts from the earth, the sky, and the ancestors.
The ancient Roman Seneca said, “No one
can be poor who has enough, nor rich who covets more.” This poses a bit of a
conundrum. Does this mean that wanting to grow is bad? Is our desire for a
renovated building a form of coveting “more”?
I don’t think so. Yes it is true that
whenever we seek to grow we should proceed with humility, caution, and
awareness of the consequences. The cancerous growth which entails an
accumulation of material or psychic debris, shielding us from life and from one
another—yes, this is bad. But growth can also open us to one another and to the future.
==
How do we become
rich? The rich people in the children’s story today did this: They figured out
what they needed, and made sure they got it. They did not stop eating for a
month, but preserved their health, and
their energy, to ensure that they could take the next steps.
Second, they invested.
They bought cotton loops, stirred in labor and creativity, and traded up to
potholders. Then they traded up the potholders for more money. This is a pretty
standard economic scheme with a profound spiritual parallel: the process
leading from reflection -> self awareness -> choices -> investment
-> riches.
==
Is Unitarian Universalism a rich
religion? Do we utilize the riches of
our direct experience of transcending mystery? Do we utilize the assets we’ve
inherited from heroic role models? From religious traditions of the ages? Do we
utilize the riches of science, reason, intuition, the arts, and the bottomless
font of love?
Do we labor to uncover the jewels of
universal principles, so often encrusted by archaic language or hidden beneath
shabby clothing? Do we gather in the gems of people who appear different from ourselves—educated differently,
politically different, at very different stations in life from ourselves...
each another facet of our wholeness as “A people.”
==
If we’re not rich yet, we’d better get to
work. Because churches today have to adjust to a potentially catastrophic
financial liability that was not recognized when our current programs were
designed. That is the liability of a lawsuit over sexual misconduct. This is
first and foremost a liability in human terms. Our efforts, I hope, will be
motivated more by concern for our children than concern for our pocketbooks.
But ensuring our financial survival as a
congregation is a matter of concern
for our children. And in this case, financial security is not simply a matter
of ensuring that sexual predation does not occur. It’s a matter of ensuring
that our volunteers or staff are never even accused. And the most basic safety
practice, which we have yet to implement, is to ensure that there are two
adults in our children’s classrooms. Fortunately, this approach has wonderful
side benefits.
Studies have shown that one of the key
predictive factors in determining who will be generous is whether a child feels
connected to someone in an older generation. If we want to ensure that this
church will be here when we are gone, giving money is essential. But it is
equally important that we grow a new generation of generous people. You can
help to do that by showing a child that you care about this church. Not by saying you care—by showing it. Sit in her classroom. Not just once. But month after
month for the rest of your life. The most generous people are those who have
had role models of generosity. 50 years from now, will they know how to pass
that lesson to the following generation?
At the back of the sanctuary we have
sign-up sheets for classroom assistants and lots of other essential Sunday
tasks, from now until June. We’ve had a lot of people ask how they could help
since Kathy is out of the office for a month. This is how you can help.
This will require dozens of new
volunteers, but it is so important. Classroom assistants do not need to
prepare, they just need to show up. They instantly create the
multi-generational learning environment so valuable to today’s children,
parents, and teachers. Let me be clear.
I’m talking about those of you who in your 80s, 70s, 60s, 50s, 40s, 30s, and
20s. You have given a great deal over the past decades. Don’t let your
contributions decay because the next generations don’t know you and your love
for this church.
==
I want to thank so many who have modeled
such generosity very recently: Thanks to those who planned and volunteered and
attended the diversity dinner, while having fun, making music, building
community, and making an important social
statement, we were able to generate about $200 for The Neighbors Place.
Thanks to the middle school youth group who have prepared a variety show which
will be held today during the potluck to raise money for tsunami relief. And
thanks to those who brought food for the potluck, and those who will attend.
Thanks to those who did office work for us this week or stopped by asking how
they could help. This included Julie White, Blake Burton, Ari Schmidt, Glenda
Walker, Brad and Laura Lantzer, Lisa Akey, Eloise Reavill, Warren and Rosemarie
Stevens, Dolly Scott, Joyce Schneider. And no doubt many I’m forgetting. I
think I can safely say that our volunteer of the week was John Faville, who,
when he innocently asked, “How can I help?” was invited to deliver 600
advance-directives kits to twelve churches around town. [By the way, we have
these information packets right here... including forms and instructions to
complete your own medical advance directives, and info on where to receive free
help in this process.] And this doesn’t begin to include all of those who led
or participated this week in committee meetings, in classes for children and
adults, and in other gatherings.
For all this I regret to say that your desire to volunteer to further the
mission of the church is surely our richest and most underutilized resource.
Isn’t it nice to know sometimes that there is room for growth? So if you have
offered your riches I can only beg you to offer yourself again. And 7 times 70
times. For—as it is in parenting, employment, and friendship—much of what you
give will go unappreciated, unrecognized, or someone else will get credit for
your work. Do it anyway.
==
A rag rug can serve as a metaphor for our
collective contributions. [A 5’x8’ rag rug in three strip before the pulpit.] I
asked the 5th graders at John Marshall elementary school to
contribute clothing to a rug that I volunteered to make for the staff lounge. A
few kids brought in clothes, but the more I tried to explain—in words—what I
wanted, and why, the more obvious it was that I wasn’t succeeding. So I came
back to their class with some warp thread, tools, drawings, and even some
finished rugs, including one of these which includes some of the rags that they
had contributed. But when I asked them to find their own clothing, they
couldn’t do it.
I finally realized that what they needed
was direct experience. So I brought in my loom. The kids cut up their own rag
shirts, and everybody got to beat strips of fabric into the growing rug. Very
quickly they began to see the rug in different dimensions. Now when they
looked for their own scraps they knew what they were looking for.
I think life is a lot like this. It’s
often hard to see our contribution to the whole. Or it’s hard to see where our contribution ends and the next one
begins. Our contributions don’t always stand out. (And sometimes when they
do it’s not a good thing.)
I’m glad that this rug
contains such rich lessons. Because I know it looks like a white elephant
prize. But I learned a lot about technique, about planning, and about combining
colors. After I sew these three strips together, it will be good for it’s
intended purpose, especially if people focus on the “made by 5th
graders” part. And I can always take pleasure in knowing that I’ve subversively
included UU choir robes in the mix.
Bringing the
rug into the sanctuary was another unexpected lesson. This was a big project
for me. 10 times the size of anything I’d made before. Laid out in my living
room, it’s a huge rug. It’s humbling to see that something which seemed so
large in my mind and in my effort becomes so small in this great space.
==
I feel grateful to own the loom. Since I
own it, I’ve been able to modify and improve it. Or what I consider
improvements. I’ve drilled holes in it, screwed and glued and scratched and
strapped pieces here and there. If it was borrowed or rented I couldn’t do
that.
So who has the right to make decisions
about things that are shared by a community? Who owns the town commons? the
river, the Social Security trust fund? Iraq? Does anyone own these “things,” or
are they borrowed from our children? Who has the right to “make improvements”
on them? I think the answer is different for each of these questions. And it’s
an important part of our job as a liberal religious institution to offer
children and adults the tools to assess these individual situations and make
thoughtful, well-informed, compassionate group decisions that will serve the
community well in the long run.
Who owns this congregation? The rich
people, of course. It’s owned by those who, with great care, thoughtfully
utilize its human and material assets.
==
On the other hand, maybe I don’t own the
loom. I didn’t pay nearly what it was worth. A mentor passed it on to me for a
fraction of it’s original cost. In a sense I don’t own this rug either, for I’m
deeply in debt to all of the kids and even some of you who contributed rags.
I’m in debt to my weaving email list, and to countless others who inspired me,
spun the warp, picked the cotton or the polyester or formed the planet on which
these fibers grew.
Lucky for you, you don’t own the rug
either. And that’s a threat, in a way. Or at least a reminder that as owners of
this building, you own everything that anyone has ever left here, with the best
of intentions.
Being the owner is not easy. There are so
many different categories to our assets. And it’s often hard to know what to
keep, what to throw out, and how to take care of it all. Some of our assets,
like the sour cream brought for the potluck are best spent immediately. At the
other extreme is the endowment. The endowment is not meant to be spent. In this
way it’s earnings enable contributors to make a lasting contribution – lasting
forever, really. If we manage it properly, your contributions to the endowment
today, or through your will, will still be here in 100 years.
But if I were to give you a rug...am I entitled
to be certain that you’ll keep it forever?
It’s an intriguing question to me because you wouldn’t believe the
varieties of assets we have. Juliette
Guth came in this week and said that she’d seen an antique bowl on e-bay being
bid up to $500. She knew she’d seen one just like it in the kitchen. Here it
is. Who would have ever guessed?
In preparation for the Diversity Dinner two
weeks ago, Marguerite Donnelly wanted to display some of the wonderful African
American prints donated to us by the artist, Margaret Burroughs. Marguerite
found 9 of the 12 prints rolled up in a tube in a closet. I asked her if they
were worth framing. She found them listed online for a minimum of $800 each.
The order of service from April 1985, 20 years ago next month, says thank you
for the “new chalice” given in memory of Hazel Held. I’m sorry to say that I
don’t know if that was this chalice, or if this one is a new new
chalice we’ve acquired since then. I
don’t mean to suggest that it’s not valuable to recognize people’s
contributions. On the contrary, I think it is vital and that we need to do it
better. At the same time, I think that it’s impossible to do so adequately, and
we only stifle ourselves if we get hung up on this.
We have a silver tea service, silver communion
sets, silver candlesticks, silverware... colored glass windows... a $10,000
grandfather clock, antique wooden chairs and ornate tables. I’m happy to say
that some of these were appraised recently—but do we have any idea of what
they’re really worth? By that I mean, do we have any idea of why we have these things or how or if
we’re willing to take care of them?
So often in life we are oblivious to the
treasures buried beneath the crap that we can’t let go of.
==
Sorry Kathy, but there were about 15 people in
your office this week digging around to find what they needed. We’ve grown
awfully dependent upon you. One thing I came across was a book about effective
methods of church governance. The receipt showed that the book had been
donated, along with $168 of other books about church administration and
governance, by Sue Stoddard. I think we can agree that Sue was one of the rich
people in our church. Not because of what she had—but because of what she gave
away. Sue, who died a couple of years ago, was obviously way ahead of us. The
book I stumbled upon is one that our new task force on governance was just
about to buy. It suggests a governance structure which could radically
alter—and very likely improve—the way we do business.
Now that
is generosity; that is ownership; that is a sign of riches: giving $168 worth
of books with no strings attached, no expectations, certainly no guarantee that
we would some day see the value of what she had released ...into our care.
Once again I would like to ask the rich
people in this church to stand to sing together our ...
CLOSING
SONG Now Let us Sing #368