Beloved Community

First Universalist Unitarian Church

Julie Stoneberg

January 16, 2005

 

 

Opening Words:

We choose to gather together as individuals in beloved community.
May we learn to recognize that whatever affects one of us directly affects all of us indirectly.
For we are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.

Together, because of our diversity, we form a whole.

 

Gathering Hymn: We’re Gonna Sit at the Welcome Table

 

Children’s Focus:  The Greatest Table                                              by Michael J. Rosen

This accordion book is a compilation of the work of many artists around the theme of a great table where there is always room to spare.  As each page unfolds, there is a sense of abundance…a place where everyone is welcome because there’s plenty for everyone. 

 

Reading: Selections from Letter from a Birmingham Jail

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was arrested over 25 times.  In April of 1963, on a campaign to desegregate Birmingham, Alabama, he was jailed for demonstrating without a permit.  In his cell, frustrated with the lack of support he was getting from fellow clergyman, he wrote to them, beginning in the margins of a newspaper and continuing on scraps of paper.  This reading comes from that now famous letter. 

 

“Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever.  The urge for freedom will eventually come…  Recognizing this vital urge (toward the promised land of racial justice) has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand public demonstrations.  The Negro has many pent-up resentments and latent frustrations…So I have not said to my people "get rid of your discontent".  But I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channelized through the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action.  Now this approach is being dismissed as extremist.  I must admit that I was initially disappointed in being so categorized.”

 

“But as I continue to think about the matter, I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist.  Was not Jesus an extremist for love - "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you."  Was not Amos an extremist for justice - "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream."  … Was not Martin Luther an extremist - "Here I stand; I can do none other so help me God." … Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist - "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free."  Was not Thomas Jefferson an extremist - "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

 

“So the question is not whether we will be extremist, but what kind of extremist will we be.  Will we be extremists for hate or will we be extremists for love?  Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice - or will be we extremists for the cause of justice?”

 

Singing Together: We Shall Overcome

 

Message: 

 

On Christmas Eve, following a jubilant service in an overflowing sanctuary containing many unfamiliar faces, I had a conversation with one such unknown face.  She searched me out, approached me bright faced and a bit drunk with the holiday.  You know the look…a few too many cookies and relatives, far too much stimulation, not enough sleep…

"We haven't met yet," she said.  "But I've read your articles in the Circuit Writer and I'd like to introduce myself."  She then proceeded to tell me of her history with the church…born and raised… parents longtime members…other family members still active…"I love this church," she said.  "But, I don't come any more, except on the holidays.  You see, it's just too unpredictable.  I can't be sure that I will enjoy it or that the service will mean anything to me.  But I still think of this as my church."

 

These comments have stuck with me.  I've turned them over and over again in my head.  There was no apology in her admission, no sense of guilt.  Nor, do I think she expected me to judge her behavior or choices in any negative way.  It was simply a fact for her.  This is her church, but she sees no reason to show up or take part.  She has made a choice to stay away, because what she gets isn’t always what she wants, well, except maybe on Christmas Eve.  

 

I’ve wondered what such a choice means for the concept of community.  Is this truly her church, her community?  And what does that mean for those of us who are here every week; how does her absence affect us?  Is there room at this table for someone who slides in and out at whim?

Frankly, this one grates on me a bit.  Maybe I've heard the story of The Little Red Hen a few too many times, but it just doesn't seem right that the ones who aren't doing the work get to have an equal share in the banquet. 

 

I know this doesn't seem like I'm being a very good Universalist.  The early founders of this faith believed that there would be salvation for everyone…that because there is a loving god, no one would be left outside of the kingdom.  I guess if we draw a line at requiring regular attendance for inclusion, then we've got to go further and draw other firm lines.  Just who is welcome to be a part of this church?  Who is on the inside and who is on the outside?

 

Tomorrow is Martin Luther King Jr. holiday and in preparation for the community celebration this afternoon at the YWCA (4pm…be there) I have been immersing myself in the words and vision of this powerful martyr.  Martin Luther King Jr. spoke from a context of segregation and legalized discrimination; he lived in a time in our culture when peoples were routinely separated based on the color of their skin; a time when lines of inside and outside were clearly drawn.  It was the injustice of those defining lines that he fought so hard to erase.  Dr. King had a dream, a dream of a beloved community.  For him, (and I quote almost directly) 'beloved community' was a global vision, a vision of a time when poverty, hunger and homelessness would not be tolerated because he believed that standards of human decency, accepted internationally, would not allow it.  In his Beloved Community, an all-inclusive spirit would replace all forms of discrimination.  Disputes would be resolved by peaceful conflict-resolution.  In Beloved Community, love and trust would triumph over fear and hatred.[1] 

 

Today, we tend to use this same term, Beloved Community, to describe our vision of a way in which those of us who choose to come together (and aren’t we privileged to be able to make such a choice)…how those of us who choose to gather might interact with, love and respect each other.  We struggle with exactly what Beloved Community might look like, perhaps in part because the obstacles to its fruition are less obvious, more insidious, than such clearly harmful things as discrimination or human rights violations.  Our kind of conflicts can usually be easily shoved under a rug; we can regularly ignore them even as they lie festering.  Yet I am convinced that the task for us is no less daunting than the task that lay before the civil rights activists…the scale may be smaller, the cause less urgent, but the goal is the same, and therefore no less important.  It is all about how we relate to one other, how we express ourselves in love, and how we contribute to the creation of a peaceful planet. 

 

UU Musicians Network president Ken Herman wrote a profound article in the Autumn 2004 issue of Notes, the musicians' newsletter.  In it, he praises the variety found in our hymnal, pointing out that no other faith tradition requires its adherents to swim in such a diverse tradition.  His point is that singing hymns that we might not agree with, that don't speak to our beliefs, or maybe that we don't even like, demonstrates a spiritual willingness to understand something that is 'other'.  This is religious pluralism, and the full range of that pluralism found in our hymnal calls us to hear both contrast and challenge from unfamiliar and sometimes even unpleasant strands.  Herman reminds us that in Unitarian Universalism's Living Tradition statement, we claim to be grateful for this religious pluralism, claiming that indeed, it is just this pluralism that inspires and expands us.[2] 

 

Is that true?  Are we grateful for the diversity in our midst?  Are we grateful for those whose personalities we find eccentric?  Are we grateful for those who hold different political views than ours?  Are we grateful when Sunday’s music is unfamiliar?  I would contend that Unitarian Universalism puts us in a unique position to struggle toward Beloved Community.  We are a faith tradition that intentionally welcomes and includes all manner of lifestyles and beliefs, affirming that each person’s path is viable and to be respected, that is, as long as that path doesn’t violate certain inalienable principles (but that's a topic for another sermon).  It is exactly that spirit of inclusion that throws us together with those who might not be all that much like us, who might not share our beliefs or our commitments, or who have different tastes in music, and this means that we will regularly be exposed to what we find unfamiliar, uncomfortable, maybe even obnoxious.  We can’t have it both ways…if we’re going to be inclusive, most of the time we just are not going to agree on the details. 

 

See, I think we like the idea of inclusion but we don’t like what it ultimately requires of us.  I might like the idea of drawing on the wisdom from the world’s religions, but I’d just as soon never hear the name of Jesus spoken here.  I might like the idea of being open to a renewal of spirit, but I’d prefer that the minister doesn’t get too mystical on me.  I might claim to have a great deal of respect for the wisdom of my elders, but couldn’t they just let go of the old traditions and let us do things in a new, more flexible way?  I might appreciate that fact that young families are joining the church, but wouldn’t it be better if they liked organ music?

 

Is it getting a little warm in here?  It is not my intention to turn up the heat; when I use our disagreements about music programming as an example of the obstacles to creating Beloved Community, I truly do not mean (at least today) to present music as an "issue". That's not the point of this sermon. But, I have heard tell that some of the most divisive moments in the history of this congregation, and probably in most congregations, have been around the issue of music; and so to reconcile this issue we are faced with our greatest challenge.  How are we to create Beloved Community when we are simply not in agreement? 

 

Martin Luther King Jr. had a very clear vision of how Beloved Community might be achieved.  Taking his inspiration from Ghandi, he believed passionately that the way to peace was through nonviolence.  He saw a direct path, from nonviolence to reconciliation, and from reconciliation to Beloved Community.  Clearly, for Dr. King, nonviolence was a response to a very specific context…a response to overt physical, moral and social violence.  While this kind of violence continues in many places, thankfully, we are not under this kind of attack, and yet there are some very specific ways in which we can reconcile our differences by using the principles of nonviolence.  It is not absurd to apply these principles to something as mundane as our individual feelings about the music here at First Universalist Unitarian.  Peace begins at home, they say, and this is indeed true.  Through nonviolent communication, and perhaps more importantly, through the adoption of a nonviolent spirit, I believe that we can move toward 'right relationship' in each and every one of our everyday interactions, within and beyond these walls.

 

Nonviolence to Reconciliation to Beloved Community.  Now, don’t assume that nonviolence is about caving in…and don't assume that reconciliation is acquiescence, or even agreement.  Nonviolence is a way of halting the conditions of conflict by refusing to perpetuate them.  Nonviolence is a way of standing up for what you believe in while at the same time refusing to oppress or humiliate others.  Above all, we must remember that the ideal which regulates nonviolence is love.  Reconciliation is a loving process that seeks friendship and understanding, not individual victory; its relentless goal is liberation for all parties.  And, the beauty of nonviolence is that it does its magic primarily in the hearts and souls of those who are committed to it, giving them a new self-respect and freedom that makes reconciliation a real possibility. 

 

These are lofty ideals, so down to earth in their appeal, but incredibly difficult to actually put into practice.  I could be tempted to dismiss this whole notion out of hand…to say that Martin Luther King's directives were extreme measures for different times than ours.  It is tempting to believe that there is no violence so great in our midst that we need to consider any tactics, let alone nonviolence.  And to some extent this is true; Dr. King was fighting a battle of epic proportions, a battle that was critical for the civil rights of so many Americans.  But then I got to thinking about his Letter from a Birmingham Jail.

 

In this famous letter, he is not addressing the enemy.  He is not addressing the oppressors.  It is not a letter that is intended for Sheriff Bull Connor…or the Ku Klux Klan.  This is a letter addressed to his fellow clergymen.  This is a letter addressed to people who are part of his community.  This is his response, his plea, to those who have been fine-weather supporters. And although it was written well into his short career, it is arguably his seminal work.  In it, he makes no apology for his position, and clearly, yet lovingly, points to what he sees as a nobler position. The letter begins…"I came across your recent statement calling our present activities ‘unwise and untimely’…I would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms".  He then carefully lays out his argument, without shying from his position, negotiating for changed hearts, while at the same time remaining humble and loving, and even respectful of the choices made by his colleagues.  He could just as well be addressing his only-on-Christmas-Eve members and his don't-rock-the-boat hymn singers.  I see in this letter a demonstration of nonviolence in action. 

 

If we believe, as Dr. King did, that Beloved Community is the aftermath of nonviolence, nonviolence in our interpersonal relationships and our communication and in our hearts, then several things are required of us.  First, we have to make a commitment to the creation of this ideal, which means showing up, bringing all of who we are to the table, and accepting this work as key to our own spiritual growth.  Second, we must be willing to take some risks, to state clearly our personal opinions and preferences without demanding that others have the same viewpoint, or implying that another's viewpoint is wrong.  Part of this risky adventure must include a willingness to experience differing viewpoints, and to trust that those viewpoints do not pose a threat to us.  Ultimately we must truly believe that Beloved Community, in and of itself, IS the victory.  King is often quoted for saying that "Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere".  The same thinking can apply to our relationships.  The absence of love anywhere ripples throughout the community, spreading that lack of love everywhere.  The absence of love anywhere becomes that festering wound that sabotages the possibility of Beloved Community.  In the end, it just doesn't matter which hymns we sing, only that we sing together.  In this spirit, we can embrace our differences with gratitude not only for the exposure to differences, but also for the fact that we have the freedom to choose to be a part of such a community. 

 

In King's famous "I Have A Dream" speech, delivered on August 28, 1963 to a crowd of 300,000 in Washington DC, he spoke of the words written in our Declaration of Independence as a promissory note.  He interpreted the words "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that ALL persons are created equal…" to be a great covenant to each other.  The equality of persons therefore provides the foundation of the beloved community.  But without embracing this covenant to each other, without the willingness to stand together as unique equals, there is no possibility that we can ever cash in on that promise.  While King felt that the promissory note contained in the Declaration of Independence had come back marked 'insufficient funds' for the American Negro, he also refused to believe that the bank of justice was bankrupt.  And so it is for us; we must honor the equality of each member of our community.  We must believe that reconciliation and justice are possible.  We must make good on the covenant we've made to each other.  And we must continue our struggle toward achieving Beloved Community.  The bank of love is not bankrupt.

 

We are misguided if we think that Beloved Community is a happy place where we all get along. If that were our ideal picture, we would have to be about the business of defining just who it is that "we" includes.  Beloved Community cannot draw lines of who is in and who is out, lines which regulate what beliefs are embraced and which aren't.  Even though I am annoyed by a member's choice to come sporadically, because I believe we are all hurt by this, I must reconcile this difference of opinion, and embrace the only-on-Christmas-Eve-er with love. 

Beloved Community is not a place where we get to sing only the hymns we like accompanied by the instrument of our choosing, although hopefully this will sometimes be true.  To sing wholeheartedly, even if you don't know or like the hymn, is to participate in solidarity with others, to enter a spiritual place of interdependence with unfamiliar worlds. 

 

Beloved Community is a place where we can achieve harmony.  But harmony is not achieved by making all the notes identical.  Beautifully interwoven musical lines do not move in exact parallels to each other.  Just so, Beloved Community must require us to get along with those who are different than we are.  And being different is not just about our race or religion; it’s our choices in music and our preferences in sermon topics and whether or not we like to wear nametags.  It's about our personalities and our degrees of flexibility and whether we're here every week or just occasionally.  A spirit of nonviolence can lead us to reconciliation, an agreement to co-exist with both respect and gratitude for differing points of view.  Ultimately, Beloved Community requires a heart willing to be reconciled.  May we all find ways to soften our hearts to one another.  Let us begin today by being grateful for the rich diversity we are blessed to have in this beloved community.

 

So may it be.

 

Responsive Reading: Martin Luther King Jr’s words and favorite scripture

 

Though the hopes of our childhood and the promises of our mature years are unfinished symphonies,[3]

I believe that whatever the name, some extra-human force labors to create a harmony out of the discords of the universe.[4]

True peace and harmony is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice,[5]

and injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.[6]

Because all of life is interrelated, whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.[7]

For we are bound together in a single garment of destiny.[8]

So as long as there is poverty in the world, I can never be rich.

and I cannot ignore evil, for this is to become an accomplice to it.[9]

Jesus said that we must love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us;[10]

Evil is not driven out, but crowded out…through the explusive power of something good.[11]

The universe is under the control of a loving purpose, and in the struggle for righteousness, we have cosmic companionship.[12]

It is written that every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill made low, and the glory of God shall be revealed.[13]

Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.[14]

The question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be.

All: Will we be extremists for hate and injustice, or will we be extremists for love and justice?[15]

 

Closing Hymn:  Oh, I Woke up this Morning

 

Benediction – Hear the words of MLK…

 

Let the deep fog of misunderstanding be lifted from our fear-drenched communities (and hearts) and in some not so distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation (and this congregation) with all their scintillating beauty. 

 

Go now in peace.