Unitarian Universalism Selected Essays 2001
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Unitarian Universalism Selected Essays 2001 Published by the Unitarian Universalist Ministers’ Association Boston, Massachusetts The Reverend Craig Roshaven, Publications Repres e n t a t i v e Kristen B. Payson, editorial consultant Unitarian Universalism Selected Essays 2001 Preface . v Berry Street Lecture 2000 . .1 The Rev. Dr. Mark D. Morrison-Reed Fahs Lecture 2000 Queer(y)ing Religious Education: Teaching the R(evolutionary) S(ub)-V(ersions)! or Relax! … It’s Just Religious Ed . .13 The Rev. Elias Farajaje-Jones An Awakened, Compassionate Life in Today’s World . .39 Barbara Carlson Does a Building Matter? An Inquiry into the Effectiveness of Unitarian Universalist Church Architecture . .51 Charlotte Shivers The Law and the Spirit: Power, Sexuality, and Ministry . .67 The Rev. Sylvia Howe & The Rev. Paul L’Herrou A Theology of Power in the Ministry . .81 The Rev. Gordon B. McKeeman The Core of Unitarian Universalism . .91 Charles A. Howe ii UUMA Selected Essays — 2001 2001 — UUMA Selected Essays iii Preface This volume of essays is the creative product of many Unitarian Universalist colleagues who have challenged themselves to reflect at length on issues of impor- tance to our ministry. This year, six essays were submitted to a four-member panel of peers for rev i e w . Five were selected for publication. Most, though not all, of these essays were first presented to Unitarian Universalist gatherings or study gro u p s . In the future, we will continue to consider well-written essays of relevance and in t e r est to our ministry for publication, even if they have not been presented to a Unitarian Universalist gathering or study grou p . As is our tradition, the Berry Street Essay is included. The Berry Street Lecture began in 1820 with an address by William Ellery Channing to a group of colleagues who had gathered for mutual support and edification. The Ministerial Conferen c e at Berry Street is now convened annually at the General Assembly at the conclu- sion of Professional Days and the beginning of General Assembly to give the essay its appropriate hearing. The Sophia Lyon Fahs Lecture, established in 1974 to honor one of our grea t e s t religious educators, is also included. As has become the custom, we have not exercised a heavy editorial hand with these papers. We have taken great pains to assemble a diverse panel of our peers for reviewing and commenting on the submission. Each author’s identity was con- cealed from the reviewers to guard against bias. It is our hope that this process will en s u r e a diverse volume of well-written essays that accurately reflects the diversity within our ranks and engages our interes t . I want to thank this year’s panelists: Don Fielding, Sam Schaal, Marjorie Mo n t g o m e r y, and Betty McCollum. I would also like to thank Kristen Payson, edi- torial consultant, for her invaluable advice, experience, and expertise in prep a r i n g this volume of essays. We encourage you to submit essays on topics of interest and relevance to our calling for consider in the next volume of essays. The Reverend Craig C. Roshaven Unitarian Universalist Ministers’ Association Publications and Online Communications Repres e n t a t i v e iv UUMA Selected Essays — 2001 2001 — UUMA Selected Essays v Berry Street Essay 2000 After Running Through the Thistles, the Hard Part Begins The Rev. Dr. Mark Morrison-Reed HE BAPTISMAL FONT WAS OLDER THAN THE BUILDING . It had accompanied Tthe First Unitarian Society of Chicago when the congregation moved south to Hyde Park. The years had dulled the white marble. At age 4 I stood next to that font waiting with anticipation. Beside me was my brother. We were wear- ing matching plaid sports jackets. Behind us our baby sister squirmed in Dad’s arms. The minister, Leslie Pennington, had white hair and wore a black robe, and when he said, “Name this child,” both my parents said, “Mark Douglas Reed.” The minister reached into the font. As he touched my forehead with a drop of water, he repeated my name. I felt he was sort of like God. At age 8 I started crossing Chicago’s Southside on Wednesday afternoons by myself to attend choir practice under the wild gaze of Christopher Moore. On Sundays, however, I raced down hallways, played tag, and hated graham crack- ers. When I was 11, Jim Hobart, who was studying at Meadville Lombard Theological School, was my Sunday School teacher. He describes me as “a tall, thin sixth grader, serious, quiet but not shy, who didn’t have a lot to say but did make good contributions.” By age 17 I was a high school senior and president of the local LRY (Liberal Religious Youth); at age 19 I was already back home from college. I had flunked out, returned to Chicago, found a job, and was recruited to teach Sunday School. The kindergarten class thought I was great — particularly a biracial, developmentally challenged child named Dickey. He hung on me. Their appreciation and affection were triage for my broken ego, and so began the healing process. Returning to Chicago at age 25, a vagabond entering Meadville/Lombard, I discovered that the congregation was excited about my decision to enter the ministry. My marriage and ordination, my mother’s and sister’s memorial ser- vices were all held within that living community. As the Christmas Candlelight and the Flower Communion services marked the cycle of the year, these rites of passage marked the cycle that is my life. Nevertheless, something I only barely remember left the strongest imprint. It happened slowly, growing incrementally week after week, year in and year out. vi UUMA Selected Essays — 2001 2001 — UUMA Selected Essays 1 Each time a teacher smiled or took me seriously, when our choir processed in especially her 3-year-old daughter — and covered her despair with gallows scarlet robes, an emotion grew — the feeling of being at home in that place, humor. Chris, a church member and social worker, organized a memory book for among those people. Trust grew, and with it my faith. Now my very being her 6-year-old and placed an altar by her bed. expects life to be this way, so much so that 51 years later, it is difficult for me to The challenge for me through all this was to be fully present — fully in those imagine living apart from religious community. pr ecious moments. Open to dialogue without pushing it, often I simply sat and I am at home among these people in this liberal religious movement. It is a waited and watched the rise and fall of each breath. I gave up the urge to fix and place where I was nurtured, and because I was nurtured I grew; having grown, I assuage, held in abeyance the need to grieve, and stilled my thoughts and feel- could give, and having given, I grew more. It is a place where struggling, I could ings so I could be fully there. Because that was all there was to do — be there. fail; where failing, I was still loved; where loved, I could begin again. It is a In a pensive moment after a bout of tears, it came to me that being present is place where in pain I could go; where, having gone, I was cared for; where cared what it takes to love a congregation. We do ministry knowing that, some day, for, I could heal and go on. That is why I am a minister, to help sustain religious the relationship will end. The challenge is to be there despite this. For unless communities — places like the one in which I grew up, places made holy by we can be fully there in authentic relationship with its members, we can go what people experience within them — the seasons of their lives and the heal- through the motions of ministry, but we cannot really minister. We cannot hold ing of their souls. back, because the power is in our relatedness to one another, yet we must hold The power of community is enormous, and I have lived my entire life in its back or risk conflating the professional with the personal. To minister is to wres- embrace. It is why I entered the ministry. I believe the liberal church is worth tle with this dilemma. devoting a life to — my life, in fact. The relationship of minister and parishioner has the qualities of a friendship, My years as a congregant did not prepare me, however, for a cruel irony. but no matter how warm and deep, authentic and rec i p r ocal the relationship is, it Ministry, as most of you have discovered, I am sure, is a source of unrequited is a circumscribed friendship. Why? Because it is built upon an unavoidable imbal- grief. I regret having not read the fine print. If I had, perhaps I would have ance: The minister is always more responsible for the relationship. When neces- made another choice. But the print was very small, the phrasing paradoxical, sa r y, we must be prep a r ed to forsake the role of friend for that of minister, and while I was young and eager. This is what it said: ready to choose the well-being of the community over the needs of the friend. We You will love your parishioners with all your heart but never befriend them. ar e not as free to share all aspects of our lives and ourselves.