Why Am I Here?

Why am I here?

I think it is a useful exercise to reflect from time to time about how we have come to be where we are. What choices have brought us here, to this Meeting House, this December morning, 2006?

I grew up on a small country farm in western Maine. I sometimes like to say, “I came from the sticks,” and it’s not that much of a stretch! Naturally, I’m pleased to see from this morning’s sermon title (Holy Cows and Other Signs of Hope) that we’re going to hear about cows today. While I was growing up, I attended a small traditional church where my mother was an active member, a little-known denomination called the Church of the New Jerusalem.

Early on, I was inquisitive about other faiths. I once had a born-again high school teacher who would periodically steal a piece of classroom time to expound about salvation through the acceptance of Jesus as personal savior. I asked him how a person in a remote culture could avoid condemnation if that person had never even heard of Jesus. He said matter-of-factly that he could NOT, that he would indeed go to hell. I credit this teacher with saving me, saving me from the notion of that kind of salvation. At the University of Maine, my anthropology electives broadened my appreciation of diverse cultures, other ways of thinking, and different explanations for common mysteries. Upon graduation, armed with a math degree, I came to work here in the Insurance Capital.

About this time, my older sister Carley, a Unitarian, suggested I might find a Unitarian church interesting. Here I heard a refreshing message of personal hope and possibility for all like none I had heard before. Rev. Nat Lauriat had me hooked almost at the outset. I am not certain I would have found this Meeting House had Carley not made the suggestion; I am grateful that she did.

My first visit here was in the early seventies and I joined USH a couple years later. When Don and I planned our wedding, we were sure it had to be in this special place. Our son, Karl, now an Oklahoma police officer, was dedicated here, in this chancel, and attended the Religious Education program well into his high school years

Those were the early years. So, why am I still here? One reason is that I got involved and found giving my time very nourishing. Although I deflected the first request to help teach Sunday School, the alternative I was given was to serve on the Religious Education Committee. Then-Minister of RE Judy Deutsch was very good at engaging the unsuspecting. In retrospect I thank her for her perseverance.

Various roles on a number of committees and task forces have challenged me over the years. None has been more rewarding than serving on the 1999-2000 Search Committee. That commitment I took on, in part, to help fill the personal vacancy I felt after Jon Luopa’s departure. With each new commitment and each new affiliation come new friendships and a deepening of my attachment to this community. But that’s not all. I recognize that I come here for selfish reasons. It’s a spiritual addiction! My soul needs a fix.

I need the grounding that I get from our worship services. Each week, from some piece of the service, comes hope, a reason to believe, a renewed feeling of gratitude, or fresh courage to face a very complicated world. I welcome the reminder that so much is about personal responsibility. It takes work to be a UU. We don’t have easy answers, but I know that Truth is mine to approach, as best I can. I am inspired by the seasoned members among us who, while in their 80s and 90s, continue to give so much, leading by their example.

I am moved by the remarkable commitment to social justice shown by many who, through their meaningful actions, continue to do more than their fair share. They work tirelessly at mending our broken communities and minding the well-being of our precious planet. They, as well as any of us, understand that everything, everything matters.

I find in this place it is right for us to step back, to quietly assess our lives, to honor our legends and our champions, to laugh, to grieve, to celebrate our common humanity, to accept, and to be accepted. In this safe place, we are at home. I salute the countless souls who have helped to steer each of us

through those doors, and I rejoice in the possibility of what we can be together, as one. - Rosie Rindfleisch

Let us know of any comments, errors and corrections - thanks (revised 03/07/07)