Sermon Enlarging our Tent

Enlarging our Tent
April 23, 2006
Rev. Barbara Jamestone, PhD

Pre-service Reflection:

Enlarge the space of thy tent. Stretch forth the curtains of thine habitations. Spare not. Lengthen thy cords and strengthen thy stakes. And thou shalt break forth on the right hand and on the left.

--Isaiah, A Hebrew prophet

Invocation:

Just this much.
A gathering of spirits, each of us incomplete, yearning for
acceptance, companionship, freedom, serenity, wholeness.

Just this much. A gathering of unlikely comrades,
Willing to be washed up on this common shore,
Drawn by a light which leads to fields of wonder.

Whoever you are, whatever you lack,
whatever snack you bring to share,
You are welcome--

--To revere and revel in the eternal flame which
continues to call and claim us all, however we resist

--welcome to this house of meeting of minds,
of meaning bound in metaphor

sermon: Enlarging Our Tent

Reading: An Ode to Love

But covet earnestly the best gifts, the more excellent way:
Love never fails.
Where there are prophecies, they will cease;
where there are tongues, they will be stilled;
where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
But love, greatest of these, abides. ---Christian sacred text

You are about to form a impression of me, which may be fairly accurate, and which may bear little or no resemblance to reality. Either way, your first impression will be resistant to change, the psychologists say. So I’ve chosen my task and my theme with care.

It is my task today, not to persuade you that your search committee
Has great taste and good sense, though they do, but rather

--to step into this sacred space which many of you worked to create.
-- to step in, put on the mantle of preacher with
Humility and reverence—and be a finger pointing at the moon.

I invite you in these moments to look toward…the daylight moon,
that eyes see not, nor ears detect, that hands cannot touch,
nor space hold, nor time measure.

My theme is chosen with equal care—one word that captures the whole
Of our faith and reason for being,
A word common as a stone and unspeakably profound—love.

Start where you are, the sages advise.
I are minister of a small UU Fellowship in Key West,
contracted as growth consultant for one year to help them make decisions about hard and soft resources.

Hard resources--they own valuable property, have an endowment, no debt.
Their facility cannot sustain further growth, so
an architect is studying how we might enlarge the current space
WITHOUT violating strict city codes designed to restrict population growth.

Key West operates under a ROGO, rate of growth ordinance.
The state ordered the Keys to stop growing,
Due to evacuation challenges during hurricanes.
So, ROGOs prohibit new buildings, in theory.
In coming weeks the congregation will decide whether to sell and buy larger,
or to renovate and grow higher.

Then there are decisions regarding soft resources-- I am charged
to live among them for a year, to show them and Key West
what it might be like to have a UU minister on the island.
They have a long history of lay leadership and

I am what some founding members call “The Great Experiment.”
More than once this year I’ve sung to myself:
Take heart, have hope, trust in the Lord and just do the best you can.

I preach, do pastoral care- mostly hurricane related
And serve as ethical consultant to the mayor’s office—
we’re writing a code of ethics for the city.

In coming months,
the congregation will decide whether to move to a settled minister
or to return to full lay leadership.

I’m helping them not make those decisions, just yet.
--am encouraging them first to recall the original vision of the founders
who began the fellowship on a sail boat, and to revisit
the iterations and evolution of that vision.

I am asking “Who ARE you, and what are you doing here?”
Seeking articulation of congregational identity and purpose ,
which will bring clarity to decision making and energy to action taking—

Questions which are evergreen, relevant everywhere, even Connecticut.
Why is this awesome building on Bloomfield Ave here, today?
What was the vision of your founders, and how is it evolving,
the same vision, yet ever adapting to the larger ecosystem in order to thrive?

What meeting did you house, do you house, will you house?
Looking back,
We UUs house a meeting with all the great hearts
through out history who loved mercy, who did justly,
who walked humbly with their god- generations of great minds.

And we house a meeting with the great minds of tomorrow,
with all who will come in when we lift the flaps of this expanding tent
of hospitality and say come on in!

I visited to the far Western Tibetian plateau,
whose sparse nomadic population rarely sees any people, much less foreigners.
So, once we set up tents, one or two Tibetians would just
Lift the flap of our tent, and come in, no matter what we were doing!

Smiling, content just to visit with no shared language.
Now…..My guess is that it’s not quite like that in New England
We must raise our flap and ask them into this house--.

This house of meeting with all who will come after us,
who will tend this eternal flame when we are gone.
We keep this house brothers and sisters,
for all those meetings with yesterday and tomorrow.
We are housekeepers of the present.

A noble role, housekeeper, homemaker, and it often involves,
Growing the family, expanding the borders of the tent.
Growth is a good word, and it can be overworked.
Just talking about organizational growth can make one feel tired.

Because true growth is not something we have to work at.
A 5 year old doesn’t work to grow into the next size jeans.
As a matter of fact, as we 50 year olds know,
one has to work NOT to grow into the next size jeans!

Jungian therapist and author James Hillman wrote
that growth is actually an adolescent theme,
and that the maturing soul does not design empires.
The maturing soul simplifies, leaves off, goes deep, engages intimately
and deliciously with the few rather than the many.

I wonder what might happen, if we agreed to stop working at growth?
Having been a chaplain in a trauma hospital, I can say that
Few folks on their death bed wish they had worked more--

People do however, sometimes wish they had loved more, and been loved more.
Love….the procreative force. which births babies, writes sonnets, \plays
music, which prompted Bach to copy the lyrics of the piece
Dr. Willet just played, into his notebook, for his wife:

If thou art with me, I gladly go through my life and beyond.
Ah, how my end would bring contentment if thy hands would close my faithful eyes. Be thou with me."

Love—the only thing which endures beyond the grave.

I rent a house in Key West directly across a narrow lane from
the mausoleum section of the cemetery,
and have my desk in the front bay window so I have a good view
of those huge granite filing cabinet looking structures,
each holding many drawers for caskets.

I have seen some wonderful ‘burials’ from my desk—
Brass bands, roosters crowing, people in costumes,
Bag pipers in kilts, horses, 21 gun salutes--
But the most satisfying thing about the cemetery is
Those loved ones who come calling later.

Papa comes every 3 or 4 days, with a water bottle and cloth.
He wipes the front of Mama’s drawer, puts water in the small pot
of greenery on her shelf, then stands with hands folded,
talks to her and says the rosary.

Jerry comes on his bicycle twice a week, rides up to
his partner’s drawer, then leaning from the bike,
puts his hand flat on the granite, gazes off toward the sun set,
sheds a few tears, kisses his fingers
and passes them over the name plate, before pushing off.

Maria comes carrying a lawn chair for her mother,
and they sit and chat amicably as Maria’s toddler runs around babbling.
Before leaving they pat the brass name plate.
wipe tears from under their sunglasses, and pat it again.

I walk over and visit with Papa, Jerry, Maria
or the half dozen other loyal sentinels.
I say I’m the UU minister in town, and I’ve noticed them coming to visit.
They tell me about their love that burns bright, warm, enduring.

One morning when I went out to run, Papa was sitting on my stoop,
Waiting to tell me a story about Mama.
I count it joy to be able to watch with them, day after week after month,
As they come and renew those vows of love.

What if we decided, as a denomination, to stop working on growth,
And to focus our energies on something that will outlast even this fine house?

What if we answered the question, what are you doing here,
With the simple answer…I’m here to love.
What would that’s simplest of answers require of us?

It would require courage—our denomination is not known
For simple declarations nor behaviors suspected to be warm and fuzzy.

Love might make us stand up, sing out hallelujah,
Act as if some victory were near.
--make us leap off the cliff of reserve and restraint on occasion,
into wildness, wildness which Thoreau said, “is the preservation of the world.”

Emotion and affective science researchers say that
When we are ‘in love’ the same chemicals and pathways light up
In our brains as when we have an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Love can make us behave strangely,
might make me leap off into an unknown culture, Like New England.
I’ve never lived where it snows,

Never lived where, they tell me people prefer terse, pithy,
to the point stories, And one line answers,
as compared to the long rambling tales we Southerners tell.
I read and think it might be true that the answer to every question,
For a Southerner, begins with a story!

Love might make you decide to leap off into the unknown
of a cross cultural Experience too.

To engage with a minister who might call you Miss Carol, or Mr. Bill,
As a sign of respect, and who might try to hug you on occasion!

The emotion science people say That the brain throws off a chemical—ocytocin--Which makes us feel content and companionable.
and that we can coax the brain to make more of that chemical,
By touching, hugging, patting.

Those folks patting that granite wall in Key West are making oxytocin.
Leaping off into the unknown Can be daunting.

Joseph Campbell wrote that the hardest thing we do
When starting on the heroes journey, is to step off into the woods
At the darkest spot, where there is no path.

It takes courage, and it takes commitment.
Loving that lasts entails a vow of commitment,
requires sacrifice, giving more than I’d planned,
Giving when I’d rather be getting,
Showing up When I’d rather be fishing,
Being accountable to invest something precious to me, in you.

Loving calls for and requires courage, commitment, and celebration—
It requires me to celebrate you, to see what you do for us,
to show appreciation in words, gifts, attention
In a disciplined and regular fashion.

And there has to be a place for that to happen—
Gatherings of intimacy and companionship beyond this Sunday mass,
weekly nooks and crannies that fill the rooms
which encircle and under gird this sanctuary,
Where we can practice----courage, commitment, celebration,
accountability, appreciation, attention.

Now this is not simpleminded touchy, feely fluff I’m talking about.
When our congregations practice love with a capital L,
there are measurable, concrete, tangible results,
returns to shareholders,
Results we say we want in our mission and vision statements.

For example, All the subtle ROGOs…. restrictions on growth ordinances HERE
At the Unitarian Society of Hartford,
Will begin to melt like snow in the sun—
The ROGOs which you don’t even know you have imposed, cannot resist love.

And as they fall, you will be the congregation to belong to,
a moving, vibrant, maturing, lively liberal religious alternative—
As we take courage, practice commitment, intentionally celebrate
those among us who are especially effective in fulfilling our mission,
as we walk our talk in service and sacrifice in small cells of community,

you will be the place to be!

I asked the members of your search committee,
when you invite someone to join, what are you inviting them to.
One of those lovely people, mentioned worship, RE experiences,
then she said,
“but the time I have sensed that we were most vibrant,
was when we had a social justice project with inner city children
which a number of us worked on together.”

Ah—what we are inviting people to, the most tantalizing dish we offer
Is a rare opportunity to make a difference, to be of service,
and to experience the measurable results of that endeavor in ourselves—

when those brain chemicals kick in and we smile in spite of ourselves.
We pat someone on the back.
We have to hold back tears of gratitude at the rapture of being alive.
As we give care, care comes back, pressed down, poured out, running over.

I read about your going to two services, where Arline referred to the film allusion—if you build it they will come. You may remember that film--

James Earl Jones saying to the Iowa farmer about his new ball field,
Yes build it, and they will come, from all across America, they will come,
For it is money they have and dreams they lack.

The people, the programs, the money, all the measurable manifestations
Of growth will come, In amounts commensurate with,
the love that we each practice, not FEEL but practice, moment to moment.
And As we love, we become the beloved.
We know our own worth and our place in the universe as the beloved.

Love-- procreative, enduring. It is the best fuel for this flame.
I game. Are you?

If so, the space of your tent will enlarge.
The curtains of thine habitations will stretch forth.
Thy cords shall be lengthened and they stakes strengthened.
And thou shalt break forth as the morning, in Hartford Ct
on the right hand and on the left.

Amen

Let us know of any comments, errors and corrections - thanks (revised 05/05/06)