Sermon by Rev. Alan Taylor
Preached at Unity Temple Unitarian Universalist Congregation
October 19, 2003
Reading 1:
From “Intimacy and Ultimacy” by Rev. Rick Koyle
Why do we come to church? When
we show up on Sunday morning, what exactly are we after? People have said:
“Community, plus mind/heart expansion” “Raising our children with a religious
tradition that they can turn to in times of need, [that] connects them to the
larger community.” “Friends, and meaningful discussions” “A welcome to an open
and thoughtful community to explore” Some come for music, candles, sermons,
silence, even flowers. I knew someone once, who said he came for the
announcements, because they showed us practicing our values in the world beyond
church. We seek so many things. And yet two answers seem to lead the rest. In
the words of Unitarian Universalist theologian James Luther Adams, we come to
church seeking "intimacy and ultimacy".
By "intimacy" is meant friendship, mutual support, a sense of community, or, as
one person put it, "I like to see -- the people I like to see." Not long ago in
a Covenant Group, one person turned to another and, out of a clear blue sky,
said, “I don't have as many friends as I'd like; how about you?” The answer
turned out to be -- me too. Who among us couldn’t use another friend or two?
Intimacy.
"Ultimacy" means a fair shot at engaging with ultimate questions, questions
like: How did we get here? What are we doing here? What happens when we’re not
here any more? The Reverend Joy Atkinson calls these "windowsill questions",
because as a kid, she used to put her elbows on the windowsill at night, look at
the stars, and ask the big questions. Someone was asking the other day, if the
big questions were
multiple-choice? Ultimacy inhabits inspiration, the divine, the great beyond,
the ineffable mysteries – the stuff for which some faith traditions claim clear,
absolute answers, while we Unitarian Universalists invite each one of us to work
out our own best answers as well as we can.
Sermon:
Before October 29th,
1997, John Lambert and Andy Boschma knew each other only through their local
bowling league at the Ypsi-Arbor Lanes in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Lambert was a
sixty-four-year-old retired employee of the University of Michigan hospital. He
had been on a kidney transplant waiting list for three years when Boschma, a
thirty-three-year-old accountant, learned casually of Lambert’s need and
unexpectedly approached him to offer to donate one of his own kidneys.
Lambert said, “Andy saw something in me that others
didn’t.” John Lambert tells the story of when they were in the hospital and Andy
said to him, ‘John, I really like you and have a lot of respect for you. I
wouldn’t hesitate to do this all over again.’ Lambert says that he got choked
up. Andy Boschma following the transplant said, “I obviously feel a kinship
[with Lambert.]. I cared about him before, but now I’m really rooting for him.”
This story speaks for itself, but the photograph that accompanied this report in
the Ann Arbor News reveals that in addition to their differences in profession
and generation, Andy Boschma is white and the elder Lambert is African American.
That they bowled together and got to know each other through a league made all
the difference. In small ways like this—and in larger ways, too—we Americans are
capable of connecting with one another even if we are different in ages,
professions, skin colors, sexual orientations, even different economic status
and ethnicity and political worldview.
I took this story from Robert Putnam’s groundbreaking book,
Bowling Alone. He argues that even though people have more leisure time
than a generation ago, people are by and large spending much less time with
other people. He also argues that communal activities and community sharing have
sharply declined, thus impoverishing our lives and communities. For example,
bowling leagues were very common a generation ago, but no longer, even though
Americans are bowling now more than ever. This trend of bowling alone rather in
leagues where people get to know one another is a metaphor that extends to
several areas of society.
Today I want to explore how this trend impacts us as a
semi-suburban, semi-urban religious community and how we as a congregation can
create authentic human connections. First I will define some terms, comment on
what I have learned from you, and offer a suggestion which can lead us to ever
richer community for both newcomers and long term members alike.
Sociologists often talk about the value of community life
in terms of “social capital.” I am more familiar with the notion of physical
capital, such as tools and machinery, or human capital, referring to education
and experience. Social capital has to do with the connections among
people—social networks and the mutual benefit and trust that arises from them.
Social capital refers to norms of reciprocity, mutual assistance, and
trustworthiness.
When a group of neighbors informally keep an eye on one
another’s homes, that’s social capital in action. So is when a tightly knit
community of Hassidic Jews trade diamonds without having to test each gem for
purity. Barn-raising on the frontier was, and so too are e-mail exchanges among
members of a cancer support group. Other examples of social capital are labor
unions, civic organizations, even church communities. Yogi Berra uniquely
captured this idea when he said, “If you don’t go to somebody’s funeral, they
won’t come to yours.”
There are two kinds of social capital. One is called
“bonding” social capital because it brings people closer together. For example
fraternities, church groups that form around a special interest, and country
clubs. By choice or necessity, such groups come together around a common
interest. The other kind of social capital is “bridging” social capital.
Bridging social capital creates bridges between different kinds of people.
Bridging social capital is by definition inclusive of differences. Examples
include many youth service groups, ecumenical religious organizations, the civil
rights movement, and even bowling leagues.
Developing bridges between people who are considerably
different is difficult. It is much easier to bring together people who are
similar. As human beings, we need both. I believe one of the best places for
people to make both types of connections is at churches. Healthy congregations
have plenty of bonding groups that bring together around a particular issue, and
churches worth their salt encourage bridging between people with different
lifestyles and worldviews.
The research done by Robert Putnam suggests that more and
more people are isolating themselves. It’s important to reverse this trend not
only for the sake of our community or others, but also for own lives. The
statistical research is fascinating. Those who enter longstanding social
networks, they live longer, their incomes increase, and they are much more
likely to be happy.
According to Putnam, “American history carefully examined
is a story of ups and downs in civic engagement, not just downs—it is a story of
collapse and of renewal. Within living memory the bonds of community in America
were becoming stronger, not weaker, and it is within our power to reverse the
decline of the last several decades.”
It is perfectly natural to resist the call to become
acquainted with people who are different from us. Our culture encourages us to
look inward rather than outward. If we have the money to travel regularly, shop
frequently, to upgrade our home electronic center, we can easily live in
isolation with the illusion that we are capitalizing on the American dream. As
difficult as it may be, our religious imperative is to push the boundaries of
our comfort zones so as to unveil the grace around us waiting to be unveiled.
The sages of all world religious traditions are in agreement: ultimately meaning
comes from connection, not independence. What has always made America great are
the many volunteer organizations that bring together people from different
backgrounds to affirm a common purpose, whether that be volunteer fire
departments, libraries, public education, or support groups for coping with a
disease or an addiction.
A number of you have mentioned to me that due to a schedule
conflict, this congregation has not participated the last couple years in “A Day
in the Village,” an event during which many Oak Park institutions open their
doors to one another. I am happy to inform you that your board members, before I
was able to talk to them about my desire to participate in this opportunity to
engage with our community, already made sure that we would not have a schedule
conflict. It is a joy to find the Board so on the ball.
I learned this past week that at least one long time member
is concerned that his beloved congregation may continue to grow in size. I
imagine that others may share his perspective that “small is all.” When churches
grow, if the intimacy disappears, so will many of the people, including
newcomers. It is tough visiting a church of nearly four hundred members and
finding one’s place. It’s perhaps even tougher if your church experience of
fifteen years ago was where you knew everybody and perhaps more importantly,
where everybody knew you. This congregation has grown remarkably in the last
twenty years. You may find yourself feeling more alone at church if there are
more unfamiliar faces than familiar ones. Perhaps the metaphor of Bowling Alone,
or at least feeling isolated, is an experience you are finding at church. But it
doesn’t need to be that way.
The founder of a huge mega-church is fond of saying, “big
churches can continue to grow as long as they stay small.” In other words, the
heart and soul of the church are in the small groups where people connect with
one another. So what are our small group opportunities here at Unity Temple? We
have men’s groups, women’s groups, social groups, discussion groups, and these
are all important. We also have covenant groups, or what we call “Chalice
Circles,” specifically designed to connect newcomers and old-timers alike, to
provide a unique context to share and listen to each other, and, in time, to
minister to one another. Anybody can join. You don’t have to be a member. In
fact we encourage newcomers to get to know us through our Chalice Circles. These
are wonderful bonding capital and bridging capital opportunities.
At the heart of each of Chalice Circle is a covenant, an
agreement that participants are asked to buy into. The members of each group
covenant with one another about attendance, to listen more than one speaks, to
respect others. In most groups there is agreement that there is no cross talk
for a large portion of the meeting, thus creating the space for every
participant to share without being interrupted. Groups covenant to be respectful
and to help keep the expectations in check. With an agreement how we will be
with one another, there is little room for abuse of the process, domination by a
specific person, or drifting off into bitch sessions. What participants discover
are rich opportunities to connect, to learn what’s going on in others’ lives
while being able to share one’s own.
Each Chalice Circle meets as frequently as the circle
commits to. Some meet monthly, others more frequently. The meetings follow a
simple, clear pattern of gathering, exploration, and closing. The gathering
includes a chalice lighting, opening words, and a check-in around the circle.
The exploration is the heart of the meeting, a discussion of a topic. And then
the closing includes a check-out, closing words, and extinguishing the chalice.
If it sounds structured, you’re right. It is a structure honed and tested in
many other Unitarian Universalist congregations, resulting in bonding
relationships and bridges between people who had once been strangers.
My friend and colleague Rev. Rick Koyle identifies five
values in covenant groups. First, smallness for its own sake. No groups larger
than ten. This insures intimacy. Second, simplicity. Covenant groups are simple
in conception and practice. As Rick says, “The low-key, old-shoe ritual both
enables good things to happen, and gets out of the way of their happening.”
Third, sincerity. Covenant groups invite personal authenticity, to go as deep as
one can. Sharing honestly takes courage; however, the small size and the simple
ritual coupled with the sincerity of others makes it a safe and inviting space.
Fourth, intellectual courage. Just about anything is game to talk about, as long
as one is owning one’s own experience. These last three values, simplicity,
sincerity, and courage make way for ultimacy and intimacy. The fifth value of
Covenant Groups is conscious growth, growth of the participants in the circle,
growth of the group, and although it may not be as conscious, growth of the
congregation. There is always a chair set for the person who has not yet joined.
This chair symbolizes the person who has yet to benefit from small group
ministry, and I suspect there are literally hundreds of people in our community
who would benefit. As circles grow, we add more and if need be split those that
get to big. Whatever the demand, we will cheerfully create space. As your
minister, I meet regularly with all Chalice Circle facilitators, providing them
support. In fact, our facilitators circle is getting so big, we may even split
into two!
An important component of chalice groups is their
connection to the congregation and its mission. Each Chalice circle agrees to
have a service component. Some Chalice Circles have hosted coffee hour. One
Chalice Circle organized this congregation’s contingent in the Gay Pride Parade.
Chalice Circles here have participated in BAG day, that is Building and Grounds
Day, which incidentally is coming up this Saturday—whether you are in a chalice
circle or not, come on out and help spruce this place up!
I really believe in Chalice Circles. Small group ministries
serve as the superglue and the WD-40 of healthy congregations. People bond
together when coming together around a common interest, such as the women’s
spirituality group or the parenting chalice circle. People make bridges with
others when participating in chalice circles that bring together people with
differences.
As Andy Boschma and John Lambert learned, getting to know
others can have unexpected consequences for one’s life, providing deeper meaning
and even a lengthening of life. In our part of the world, there are many ways to
get connected to others. Here at this congregation, I encourage you, if you find
yourself dealing with isolation, to join a Chalice Circle. Whatever small groups
with which you get involved, whether among our congregation or beyond, remember
the wisdom of today’s service: Don’t go bowling alone!
Blessed be.
Amen.
© Copyright 2003 Alan C.
Taylor, All Rights Reserved.
