Today, many Unitarian Universalists and others are celebrating the ruling of the California Supreme Court, overturning that state’s ban on same-gender marriage. This is an issue that the Unitarian Universalist Association has been actively involved in, promoting the rights of any two people who wish to make the commitment to marriage to do so. Many Unitarian Universalist clergy have refused to sign marriage certificates for any couple until they are legally allowed to sign them for all couples who come before them.

This sermon (PDF), by the Rev. Sue Phillips, offers an inside perspective on the issue, written just after same-gender marriage was legalized in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Rev. Phillips won the 2005 Skinner Sermon Award for this piece, and is currently serving the First Parish Church of Groton, Massachusetts, as their Sabbatical Minister.

On Being an “Issue”

by the Rev. Sue Phillips

I spent months preparing this sermon. I read books on the history of the institution of marriage and how dramatically it has changed over time. I reviewed countless articles in the mainstream press assessing the political and social implications of same-sex marriage. I read and re-read the statements of religious conservatives who assert that opening marriage to gay and lesbian people would diminish the institution they hold to be the thread of our nation’s social fabric. I saved reams of articles that would have helped me offer a spirited political defense of gay marriage. I spent hours trying to understand the historical context out of which the public policy debate about marriage emerged. And I developed impassioned arguments about why gay marriage is an essential civil right. If I were straight, I would have preached about this issue long before I actually did.

But I’m not straight. I’m joyfully, abundantly, thoroughly queer. And so I have to talk to you about what’s ranging around in my heart. This means, of course, that I can’t with any integrity offer reflections on gay marriage as a social “issue,” no matter how much political and historical homework I have done. If I used that kind of intellectual analysis this morning I would be hiding. If I placed the authority for my reflections outside of my own experience it would feel like an act of cowardice, somehow, that keeps me hidden from you. And so it is from my personal experience that I want to speak with you.

(Read on … )

This lovely prayer was written by Elizabeth of “Elizabeth’s Little Blog.” It’s a great reminder that even in the little doings of our daily lives, there are beauties and miracles that can so easily pass us by.

Prayer by Elizabeth

all of all

love of all love, peace of all peace, depth of depth

so often, in the midst of all we do, as we are washing dishes… sending email… going to work… and doing all the things we do day in and day out,

we can forget that our time here on this earth is both a gift and a miracle.

do not let us forget.

because sooner than we think, a tomorrow will come and it will be our last tomorrow and we will have missed the miracle. we will have emailed, and worked, and complained, and watched tv through the miracle.

we will have let the sunrises, the fresh air, the warmth of a bed, the taste of our orange juice, the first snows, and the cricket chirping slip by as we go about doing all of our so important things.

we will have let our pain and struggles and our tasks and achievements and our accumulation of things obscure the enchantment and richness that can be life.

love of all love, peace of peace, depth of depth –

let us find the holy in all that makes up our life.

let us slow down. stop doing. and learn to simply be.

may we find the holy in our coffee, in the spider whose lovely eight legs carry her effortlessly over her web, in the kiss goodnight, in the hot meal, fuzzy blanket, and in the chill of the dark night air. may we be seekers and makers of the holy.

amen and blessed be.

Source: Prayer by Elizabeth of “Elizabeth’s Little Blog,” posted April 8, 2008.

The struggle between individualism and communalism is a common one in many religions, but Unitarian Universalism has a unique position, being without a central creed for the community to fall back upon in times of disagreement. However, we are able to find common ground in our values, our ideals, and our belief that Unitarian Universalism has a saving message that the world needs to hear.

In this short excerpt from his 2006 book, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream, Senator and presidential candidate Barack Obama articulates the tension that exists between balancing these two ideals, the good of the individual and the good of the community, on a national and cultural level. I find that his words aptly describe the challenges in our church communities as well, particularly churches that are going through times of transition and change.

Senator Obama is not a Unitarian Universalist; he belongs to our sister-denomination, the United Church of Christ, whose core ideals are very much in line with our own.

from The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream

by Senator Barack Obama

At its most elemental level, we understand our liberty in a negative sense. As a general rule we believe in the right to be left alone, and are suspicious of those–whether Big Brother or nosy neighbors–who want to meddle in our business. But we understand our liberty in a more positive sense as well, in the idea of opportunity and the subsidiary values that help realize opportunity–all those homespun virtues that Benjamin Franklin first popularized in Poor Richard’s Alamanack and that have continued to inspire our allegiance through successive generations. The values of self-reliance and self-improvement and risk-taking. The values of drive, discipline, temperance, and hard work. The values of thrift and personal responsibility.

These values are rooted in a basic optimism about life and a faith in free will–a confidence that through pluck and sweat and smarts, each of us can rise above the circumstances of our birth. But these values also express a broader confidence that so long as individual men and women are free to pursue their own interests, society as a whole will prosper. Our system of self-government and our free-market economy depend on the majority of individual Americans adhering to these values. The legitimacy of our government and our economy depend on the degree to which these values are rewarded, which is why the values of equal opportunity and nondiscrimination complement rather than impinge on our liberty.

If we Americans are individualistic at heart, if we instinctively chafe against a past of tribal allegiances, traditions, customs, and castes, it would be a mistake to assume that this is all we are. Our individualism has always been bound by a set of communal values, the glue upon which every healthy society depends. We value the imperatives of family and the cross-generational obligations that family implies. We value community, the neighborliness that expresses itself through raising the barn or coaching the soccer team. We value patriotism and the obligations of citizenship, a sense of duty and sacrifice on behalf of our nation. We value a faith in something bigger than ourselves, whether that something expresses itself in formal religion or ethical precepts. And we value the constellation of behaviors that express our mutual regard for one another: honesty, fairness, humility, kindness, courtesy, and compassion.

Source: from Chapter 2 of The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream by Senator and presidential candidate Barack Obama.

John Ockels, a lay-leader at the Red River Unitarian Universalist Church in Denison, Texas, preached this sermon decrying the “Theology of Running Away” two weeks ago to his congregation. He challenges the notion of religion as constant searching, and encourages us as Unitarian Universalists to put down roots, “Kudzu-style.”

And I, for one, say “AMEN.” How about you?

Shall We Dwell At the River?

by John Ockels

This morning Iʼm here to criticize what I call “The Theology of Running Away.” Enough already with the theology of Singing the Journey, This World Is Not My Home, running-all-over-creation-chasing My Elusive Dreams, and nostalgic floating around in a boat, never quite docking, never quite engaging. “I’ve been sailing all my life now, Never harbor nor port have I known.” Please. Enough with all that. Enough with the theology of always being on a journey. Itʼs officially wearing me out.

This morning I want to argue for an end to all that Hank Thompson “Iʼm Moving On,” “We are going, heaven knows where we are going, Woyaya,” Christopher Columbus, thereʼs a better world over yonder, “Go West Young Man,” Herman Hesse Journey To the East, somewhere over the rainbow, life must be better somewhere else or sometime else stuff. Forget all that. Makes me tired just to think about it.

This morning I want to argue for a radical theology of loving where you are, staying put, spreading out, putting down roots … and taking over. Like a plant. And doing so successfully, like a successful weed. In short I want to argue a theology based on radical engagement where we are standing right now. A theology based on observing how plants interact with their surroundings, not one based on continued roaming predator behavior. A theology of taking over like a weed. A theology of Kudzu.

(Read on … )

Today is May Day, Beltane, a celebration of spring for many people, especially including those who choose the path of earth-centered, or pagan, religious traditions. This creation story comes from Lady Abigail, high priestess of the Ravensgrove Coven in Greenfield, Indiana, and was taught to her by her great-grandmother. It strikes me as a story that would be most welcome in our Unitarian Universalist circles as well.

Mother Earth and Sister Moon: A Beltaine Story of Creation

by Lady Abigail, remembered from her great-grandmother

In the beginning, there was no land and no water, no stars and no sky. Only a great void filled with all that could be. Living within the void was creation, not yet by name for no words had yet been spoken. Silence was the void.

Then like a whispering wind gentle on a summer night, a sound crossed the great void. Our Grandmother of the Night called to the Grandfather of the Day. “Grandfather, do you see we are alone and have no children; our sky is empty and our hearts alone.”

Suddenly, Grandfather Day spoke in a deep thundering voice. “Then we shall have Children: daughters, two daughters.”

(Read on … )

To finish up National Poetry Month, this poem offers a glimpse of eternity.

Its writer, the Rev. Robert T. Weston, was a Unitarian minister for many years, serving the First Unitarian Church of Louisville, Kentucky, and helping to found Second Unitarian Church in Omaha, Nebraska. His son now serves as the consulting minister for the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Hillsborough, North Carolina.

The poem can be found as responsive reading #530 in the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, Singing the Living Tradition.

Out of the Stars

by Robert Weston

Out of the stars in their flight, out of the dust of eternity,
here have we come,
Stardust and sunlight,
mingling through time and through space.

Out of the stars have we come,
up from time.
Out of the stars have we come.

Time out of time before time
in the vastness of space,
earth spun to orbit the sun,
Earth with the thunder of mountains newborn,
the boiling of seas.

Earth warmed by sun, lit by sunlight;
This is our home;
Out of the stars have we come.

Mystery hidden in mystery,
back through all time;
Mystery rising from rocks
in the storm and the sea.

Out of the stars, rising from rocks
and the sea,
kindled by sunlight on earth,
arose life.

Ponder this thing in your heart,
life up from sea:
Eyes to behold, throats to sing,
mates to love.

Life from the sea, warmed by sun,
washed by rain,
life from within, giving birth,
rose to love.

This is the wonder of time;
this is the marvel of space;
out of the stars swung the earth;
life upon earth rose to love.

This is the marvel of life,
rising to see and to know;
Out of your heart, cry wonder:
sing that we live.

Source: “Out of the Stars” by Robert T. Weston, reading #530 in the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, Singing the Living Tradition, and also published online in many places.

Edward Estlin Cummings (October 14, 1894-September 3, 1962), better known as e.e. cummings, was raised Unitarian, and wrote what has become my favorite prayer, among many other wonderful poems.

i thank You God for most this amazing. . .

by e.e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Source: “i thank You God for most this amazing. . .” by e.e. cummings, as printed by plagiarist.com.

Poet Anne Porter published her first volume of poetry at age 83. She has a fascinating story, and was featured in the Wall Street Journal back in 2006.

This poem, “Susanna,” is from her book Living Things, a finalist for the 1999 National Book Award, and helps to remind us how simple certain things can truly be. I first heard it on the Writer’s Almanac a few weeks back.

Susanna

by Anne Porter

Nobody in the hospital
Could tell the age
Of the old woman who
Was called Susanna

I knew she spoke some English
And that she was an immigrant
Out of a little country
Trampled by armies

Because she had no visitors
I would stop by to see her
But she was always sleeping

All I could do
Was to get out her comb
And carefully untangle
The tangles in her hair

One day I was beside her
When she woke up
Opening small dark eyes
Of a surprising clearness

She looked at me and said
You want to know the truth?
I answered Yes

She said it’s something that
My mother told me

There’s not a single inch
Of our whole body
That the Lord does not love

She then went back to sleep.

Source: “Susanna” by Anne Porter, from Living Things, as printed by the Writer’s Almanac on April 6, 2008.

This song could be known as the “Seeker’s Anthem,” I think. Singer-songwriter Peter Mulvey, a friend of mine from college, captures eloquently the yearning within so many people for deeper meaning, larger connections, but also the smaller balances of personal relationships. The most recent version of the song appears on his newest CD release, “Notes from Elsewhere.” There are also many mp3s available for free download on his website.

A Better Way to Go

by Peter Mulvey

I just came from the guru’s website
I’m still washing off the smell
Man, why don’t he just go on TV
And tell us all, “Give up or go to hell”

I was only looking if they had something to say
Lately it has been hard to get through my day
I was looking for something I just don’t know
I’ve been looking for a better way to go

(Read on … )

Rev. Sean posted this lovely poem back in February, and I saved it for this month’s “poetry-palooza.” Poet Ellen Bass, who writes and teaches in California, captures the necessity of seeing the sacred throughout our daily lives, an important concept for Unitarian Universalists.

Pray for Peace

by Ellen Bass

Pray to whoever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or marble or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the Bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah, raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekinhah, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

(Read on … )