Thus Do We Covenant

Thus Do We Covenant
June 5, 2005

Worship Leader: Rev. Arline Conan Sutherland - Arline will reflect on what it means to enter into the covenant that has gathered us since 1844 as we honor those who have brought our liberal religious tradition this far and welcome those who are joining us.

In the unison affirmation we recite each Sunday, we say, “This is our great covenant. To dwell together in peace; to seek the truth in love, and to help one another.” James Luther Adams, the eminent 20th century Unitarian theologian wrote that the word "‘covenant’ expresses one of the great namings in theological history. A covenant is a solemn promise, voluntarily undertaken, that establishes bonds of lasting commitment among the parties to them."

There are the great Biblical covenants: the one between God and Noah in which God promises not to destroy the earth again, " I do set my bow in the clouds, it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth;” the one between God and Abraham in which God promises to protect the Hebrews if they will keep his law and be faithful to him, "And I will establish my covenant between me and thee and thy seed after thee in their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee . . . This is my covenant which ye shall keep, . . . ;" (Gen 17: 7,10). Then there was the law given to Moses, the covenant of the commandments that were safe guarded in the Ark of the Covenant.

And there was the covenant which our religious ancestors, the Puritans, made on board the ship Arabella in 1630 before they ever set foot on to what was to them the New World, “Thus stands the cause between God and us. We are entered into Covenant with Him for this work . . .” If we would “provide for our posterity [we must] follow the Council of Micah to love mercy, to walk humbly with our God.”

Following in a direct line from 1630 is the covenant that the founders of our congregation entered into as they gathered this community of faith. A covenant is a solemn promise. A covenant is choosing what and whom we will ultimately trust and rely on. A covenant is, as my friend Laurel Hallman puts it, “the words that are adequate to the vision we hold; [but] true covenants are always deeper than the words we craft for they emerge from the depths of our commitment and intention.”

Everyone who has joined this congregation and signed the membership book has entered into this covenant: To dwell together in peace; to seek the truth in love, and to help one another. These words are easy to say; they are harder to live. These promises we make with one another run deep. They speak to some of our fundamental longings: to be in relationship with the holy, to become a full partner in this particular community of seekers. To belong. To know that we are not alone.

Over the years expectations have evolved of what is meant by being a member of the congregation. There was a time when no offering was taken out of fear of embarrassing those who were not prepared to give. We’ve gotten over it. We have learned that people want to give of their money and of their time and energy. We want to contribute, to make a difference. Wait till you see Fellowship Hall this morning. Many hands have been painting and sprucing it up! We yearn to be of use – to find ways of creating a world more in keeping with our ideals and so as a congregation we work to discover ways that each of us can identify our unique gifts and utilize them.

There was a time when children were to be seen rarely and hopefully not heard. We’ve gotten over it. We have learned that including children in worship strengthens and inspires us all. Those of you who attended the service our high school youth led two weeks ago can attest to the power of their words and presence.

Other expectations of membership are things like showing up. That may seem simplistic but it is not. Showing up is essential if each of us is to feel connected to and involved in the life of our religious community. Our weekly worship service is the most visible aspect of our life together. It is not the only one but it is the primary one. So, we expect you to come to church regularly.

We expect you to give of your talents and your thoughts. We are dependent on one another. We need what you have to give. We need your input and your energy. We need you to teach church school and sing in the choir and sort rummage. We need you to donate a salad to the picnic and bring flowers to the service next week. We need you to bring your passions, ideals, and commitments. We need you to sit on committees and to march for the causes you believe in. We need you to share your ideas and your critiques, your gifts and your questions and your suggestions about how our life together could be enriched.

I find it remarkable, that the life of this community is unbroken. Think about it. There are people here right now who were members in 1964, when this building was dedicated. And at least one of those people knew someone who was a member in 1942 when the Sunday School honored the members of the congregation serving in World War II. And someone who was a member then knew someone who was a member in 1906 when the Rev. Jabez Sunderland, known for his work with the Unitarians of the Khazi Hills in India was called. And someone who was a member then knew someone who was a member in 1887, when women were admitted to the society and given the right to vote. And someone who was a member then knew one of the people who gathered the congregation in 1844 at the home of Charles Olmsted.

The line has never been broken, though it staggered a little at one point. This congregation was never totally wiped out. Some of the first families carried on, then new families arrived, and so on, up until the present day. We are not some splendid isolated group of people, arriving here for the first time today, somehow set aside from all these people who came before, claiming some exclusive ownership of the place, here for ourselves alone. We are inheritors of a rich past, and we have something to pass on to the future. It is likely that many of the children here, swarming around us in the aisles and in the coffee hour, will be bringing their children here, years from now, and then your grandchildren, real and imagined, will be here, too. All of us joined by the covenant we share.

The Unitarian Society of Hartford is, as it always is, in a time of transition. We are changing. We are not who we were last year and we are not who we will be next. Some of these changes are obvious. Terasa has concluded her ministry here. We have hired a new Director of Religious Education, Ken Silberman-Bunn. New people are joining the church. Marriages are taking place. Babies are being born. And as always there are losses. People are moving away and graduating. There are deaths, divorces, depressions and debilitating illnesses. This is the cycle of life.

A year ago you chose a new form of governance, one that would better fit a congregation poised to grow. This fall the leadership made a commitment to growth. But you know, if you want to, you can choose to stay put. You can decide to tread water this year and the next as far as that goes. We can offer horrible sermons, a thin liturgy, a cold shoulder to visitors. We can push our children out of the way. We can throw at most a buck a week into the offering plate. We can sing only the hymns with which words every last person in the sanctuary can agree and whose tunes everyone approves. We can let the other religious communities in the city take the leadership for helping to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the imprisoned. The choice is up to you.

We are a people who have solemnly promised to walk together. We are more than just us, just now. We are the embodiment of those brave souls who came before us and who bequeathed us this tradition and we are the last person to walk through the door and say this is the religious community for me.

Our covenant and this continuous community we have inherited are precious and it is time to keep on imagining something more than we are. We are at a tipping point. We can step into this coming year with renewed enthusiasm or we can step back. We can live up to our dreams and our hopes or we can wait till the new minister is here and take the very real risk of stagnating.

I re-read our history this past week, and the professional and lay leaders that made up this congregation in the past were not those who stepped away from a challenge, they were not weak voices over in the corner, they were bold people who played a major part in American intellectual and political and religious history.

What will it take to lift up this vision? Bill Sinkford responds. “It will take,” he says, “offering newcomers a religious community that will serve as an antidote to the fear and isolation, the longing for community and intimacy, that brought them through our doors.” And, I am thinking, as I say these words, that we were all newcomers to this community once, and do you remember what brought you here? “Our communities must feed their spirits,” Bill says, “and help them grow. It will take…sharing our faith. It will take being clear about what commands our love and our loyalty, and being able to articulate our faith to others…It will take leadership that is willing to claim the good news that is willing to speak and act consistently out of our values and our vision.

“It will take leaders who can be builders of bridges and crafters of coalitions who can…achieve what we otherwise could not. It will take leaders who are willing to risk genuine engagement with others in our congregations and in the public square…a risk we have often shied away from, preferring to remain on the margins, the best kept secret in town…talking only amongst ourselves.”

We are entrusted with something bigger than we are, reaching back to our past, leaning out into our future. Stay for the annual meeting today. Help elect the committee to search and find the new settled minister. Linger to talk and eat chili cooked by the youth. If you haven’t already, respond generously to the annual fund-raising going on. Come next Saturday to the workshop on the spiritual practice of welcoming. Come next Sunday to celebrate our children and their teachers and to participate in Flower Communion, one of our most cherished ways of expressing our Unitarian Universalist values.

We are at a crossroads and we need one another. We need you and you and you as we promise to dwell together in peace, to seek the truth in love and to help one another.

James Luther Adams, "The Prophetic Covenant," Quoted by George Beach in his introduction to, Prophethood of All Believers, Boston: Beacon Press, 1986, p. 5.

From the sermon of John Winthrop 1630, quoted by the Rev. Dr. Laurel Hallman in her sermon “Like A Pool Into Which We Plunge or Do Not Plunge,” which she preached at the UUMA Convocation 19 March 1995.

Hallman, p. 1.

This idea of the unbroken line is taken froma sermon by my good friend, the Rev. Gary Smith.

Let us know of any comments, errors and corrections - thanks (revised 6/15/05)