Mission: Possible
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
October 28, 2018
by The Rev. Craig M. Nowak
By all accounts the past week has been rough.
On the world stage there’s the ongoing accusations and denials surrounding the murder of a prominent journalist and critic of the Saudi government, Jamal Khashoggi. Closer to home news of a caravan of migrants from central heading to the US border has been used to stoke fear and spread lies about immigrants in general. Here in the US word got out that the Trump administration’s already abysmal record of disregarding science and selective recognition of civil and human rights is about to get worse for transgender Americans under a proposed narrower definition of gender which threaten to undermine existing civil rights at the federal level. Then news came Thursday of multiple explosive devices sent by mail to a half dozen of so of the president’s critics or political opponents and the news outlet, CNN. And yesterday, a shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh left eleven people dead.
Locally, there were protests and an ongoing investigation related to charges of racially motivated bullying at Tantasqua High School. And here at BUUC about 30 or so people gathered to remember and honor thirteen people who lost their lives to domestic violence in Massachusetts since January. All of this, along with the challenges I know some of you are facing personally at the moment.
It gets overwhelming at times. The depth and breadth of the world’s troubles, not to mention our own, can make just getting through the day, difficult…and make any thought…let alone action…we might entertain to build a better world seem like mission: impossible.
In the scriptures of the world’s religion’s these are the moments when stories of divine intervention, the rise of a hero or heroine, or the realization of a profound truth are recorded to renew our faith, give us hope and replenish our spirit.
Yet, such stories aren’t limited to the mythologies and sacred stories of scripture. Sometimes they emerge from unexpected places…like California.
Indeed a letter arrived just the other day. It was from California, addressed simply to “Pastor”. It reads:
Good Morning,
I hope this letter brightens your day. I was at an antique store here and found this old circa 1913 picture card showing your beautiful church.
It’s an old time classic for sure so I said to myself, “By golly, I think I’ll send it home where it can be appreciated.” Our heritage is important to us all and should be preserved. Lots of changes, I suppose, too. Enlarged and posted up it was cause some nice conversation.
Well, I gave 6.00 for it so if you want it for 7.00 or 8.00 or so why that’s sure ok. Throw in a little postage if you want.
My wife used to laugh at me and say, “If you hear from them you’ll have to take me out to lunch.” I turned ninety years old last June 26th and I’m still going strong as far as I know.
I like to call my little hobby a “re-distribution of happiness.” Our world sure needs it.
Thank you, Godspeed, and have a great Fall season,
Lowell Joerg
Enclosed with the letter was this postcard of Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church from 1913, a year after this church building was dedicated following a fire caused by lightening that destroyed the earlier wooden structure in 1911.
I “Googled” Mr. Joerg and discovered article after article about him and his “little hobby” to “redistribute happiness.” He’s apparently been at it for a while, having long recognized, “Our world sure needs it.”
Now, I’m not sure if Mr. Joerg’s hobby and the arrival of his letter in the midst of a particularly hard week is a story of divine intervention, the rise of a hero, or about the realization of a profound truth. Maybe it’s all of these, but what I do know is that this man’s hobby and the arrival his letter this past week is a story of mission: possible. A reminder to us all that it is possible, even when the world is its most awful and ugly, to make a difference…to brighten someone’s day…to redistribute happiness.
In our second reading this morning, “A Baptism” by retired UU minister Robert Walsh, we see mission: possible at work in his interaction with the unwed mother seeking a baptism for her baby.
At the outset of the story, it is not clear which way things will go. Yet, unlike the woman’s own clergyman, the issue for Walsh is not the woman’s marital status. He’s a UU, being an unwed mother is no sin.
Instead Walsh gets hung up, like a lot of us, on what he can actually offer. He’s worried that what he can do won’t be enough to address the need before him. “What we do is like a baptism, but not exactly.”, he tells the woman.
Nonetheless the woman persists. Instead of latching on to Walsh’s concern about any perceived inadequacy of a Child Dedication versus a Baptism, she asks to meet with him. Once they meet, she entrusts Walsh with the story of her baby’s heart defect, the child’s impending, risky surgery and the rejection she face by her own clergyman. Still, Walsh doesn’t quite get it. He’s stuck thinking about all the ceremony can’t or won’t do. That it won’t, “Wash away any sin.” And “Does not guarantee the child a place in heaven.” Or that it, “doesn’t make the child a member of the church.” And in fact, doesn’t, “change the child at all.”
Walsh recalls, The woman, “listened patiently.” And I can’t help think of all the troubles of the world that listen, patiently, as we offer up our excuses, our reasons, and our explanations, hoping troubles will just go away if we stall them long enough fretting over our inadequacies or doubting our potential impact.
Instead of going away, the woman restates her need, “All I want is to know that God blesses my baby.” And, suddenly, in a flash, Walsh finally gets it. He can do that…and, he notes, he did. Mission: possible.
The story reminds us, the troubles of the world aren’t going anywhere. They will continue to gather. To sit and listen, patiently restating their needs until we get it. Our mission, as people of faith, should we choose to accept it, is not to unearth, bemoan or explain all the ways in which our potential response might be inadequate, but to find and do what is possible in there here and now. For the truth is most things we can do to address major problems will be inadequate, initially. As the late Billie Holliday sings in “Crazy He Calls Me”, “The difficult I’ll do right now, The impossible will take a little while.” Lyrics perhaps inspired or affirmed by a more ancient source of wisdom from the Jewish tradition, "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” (attributed to the Talmud)
Which brings us to consider not just the place of our individual selves, but also of religion in the face of the enormity of the world’s grief.
Long ago our Unitarian and Universalist forbears turned away religion that emphasized human sinfulness toward one that emphasizes human goodness. Now, it would not be unfair to say, as the Christian tradition from which we emerged at times swung too far in their emphasis on human sinfulness, we, for a while, swung too far in our emphasis on human goodness.
The truth is, we are complicated beings. Our emphasis today on, “The inherent worth and dignity of every person, coupled with “respect for the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part” seems to better allow for the fullness or our complexity, the reality of our experience, and our responsibility as a religious tradition.
The world in which we live is changing rapidly. Formulaic religious responses to that world and human beings, who are driving much of the change, won’t do. Religion can no longer be, nor was it ever intended to be, about distributing answers. Life is not a standardized test.
In the face of the world’s challenges religion is called not to provide the “right” answers, but to ask the right questions, to awaken curiosity, invite discernment, cultivate wisdom, and inspire action.
Indeed let religion be, as Vincent Silliman imagined, “…The wonder and lure of that which is only partly known and understood”…. “An eye that glories in nature’s majesty…and a heart that rejoices in deeds of kindness and courage.” “Let it be a voice of renewing challenge…” and, “the sorrow that opens for us the way of sympathy, understanding and service to suffering humanity. “Let it be to us hope and purpose, and discovering of opportunities to express our best through daily tasks.” Let it religion be that which unites us “with all that is admirable in human beings everywhere and holds before us the prospect of the better life for humankind, which each may help to make actual.”
In short, let religion be mission: possible.
Mission: possible.
That is what you here at BUUC, “The little stone church that rocks!” have been doing and are called to continue to do.
It’s what you did when became a Welcoming congregation, making explicit not only your tolerance but embrace of LGBTQ people and their families. An embrace whose need has not waned.
It’s what you did when you became a Green Sanctuary, recognizing the planet not merely as a resource but as a giver and sustainer of life worthy of reverence and protection.
It’s what you do when you attend our annual vigil for victims of domestic violence. And when you gathered with me out on the front lawn for a candlelight vigil on a cold evening in December or supported youth participating in 50miles More this summer in response to gun violence.
It’s what you do when you put food in the basket for the food pantry or money in the envelope for the benevolence fund. When you reach out, make, serve or share a meal, light a candle, sing, welcome a newcomer, volunteer, bring your children to church…bring yourself to church.
Like Lowell Joerg’s letter, Robert Walsh’s story “Baptism” and Vincent Silliman’s vision of religion, what you do or find inspiration to do, here at BUUC, whether great or small, local or global, touching a single life or millions…all of it is mission:possible. How do I know? Because you’ve done it. I’ve seen it myself. It is how you brighten someone’s day; how you and I…how we… gathered hand in hand, “redistribute happiness” to world that surely needs it.
Mission: possible. It is what you can do. It is what Unitarian Universalism calls us to do. And it is what we do, together… here at BUUC.
May it be so now, and forever more.
Amen and Blessed Be
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
October 28, 2018
by The Rev. Craig M. Nowak
By all accounts the past week has been rough.
On the world stage there’s the ongoing accusations and denials surrounding the murder of a prominent journalist and critic of the Saudi government, Jamal Khashoggi. Closer to home news of a caravan of migrants from central heading to the US border has been used to stoke fear and spread lies about immigrants in general. Here in the US word got out that the Trump administration’s already abysmal record of disregarding science and selective recognition of civil and human rights is about to get worse for transgender Americans under a proposed narrower definition of gender which threaten to undermine existing civil rights at the federal level. Then news came Thursday of multiple explosive devices sent by mail to a half dozen of so of the president’s critics or political opponents and the news outlet, CNN. And yesterday, a shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh left eleven people dead.
Locally, there were protests and an ongoing investigation related to charges of racially motivated bullying at Tantasqua High School. And here at BUUC about 30 or so people gathered to remember and honor thirteen people who lost their lives to domestic violence in Massachusetts since January. All of this, along with the challenges I know some of you are facing personally at the moment.
It gets overwhelming at times. The depth and breadth of the world’s troubles, not to mention our own, can make just getting through the day, difficult…and make any thought…let alone action…we might entertain to build a better world seem like mission: impossible.
In the scriptures of the world’s religion’s these are the moments when stories of divine intervention, the rise of a hero or heroine, or the realization of a profound truth are recorded to renew our faith, give us hope and replenish our spirit.
Yet, such stories aren’t limited to the mythologies and sacred stories of scripture. Sometimes they emerge from unexpected places…like California.
Indeed a letter arrived just the other day. It was from California, addressed simply to “Pastor”. It reads:
Good Morning,
I hope this letter brightens your day. I was at an antique store here and found this old circa 1913 picture card showing your beautiful church.
It’s an old time classic for sure so I said to myself, “By golly, I think I’ll send it home where it can be appreciated.” Our heritage is important to us all and should be preserved. Lots of changes, I suppose, too. Enlarged and posted up it was cause some nice conversation.
Well, I gave 6.00 for it so if you want it for 7.00 or 8.00 or so why that’s sure ok. Throw in a little postage if you want.
My wife used to laugh at me and say, “If you hear from them you’ll have to take me out to lunch.” I turned ninety years old last June 26th and I’m still going strong as far as I know.
I like to call my little hobby a “re-distribution of happiness.” Our world sure needs it.
Thank you, Godspeed, and have a great Fall season,
Lowell Joerg
Enclosed with the letter was this postcard of Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church from 1913, a year after this church building was dedicated following a fire caused by lightening that destroyed the earlier wooden structure in 1911.
I “Googled” Mr. Joerg and discovered article after article about him and his “little hobby” to “redistribute happiness.” He’s apparently been at it for a while, having long recognized, “Our world sure needs it.”
Now, I’m not sure if Mr. Joerg’s hobby and the arrival of his letter in the midst of a particularly hard week is a story of divine intervention, the rise of a hero, or about the realization of a profound truth. Maybe it’s all of these, but what I do know is that this man’s hobby and the arrival his letter this past week is a story of mission: possible. A reminder to us all that it is possible, even when the world is its most awful and ugly, to make a difference…to brighten someone’s day…to redistribute happiness.
In our second reading this morning, “A Baptism” by retired UU minister Robert Walsh, we see mission: possible at work in his interaction with the unwed mother seeking a baptism for her baby.
At the outset of the story, it is not clear which way things will go. Yet, unlike the woman’s own clergyman, the issue for Walsh is not the woman’s marital status. He’s a UU, being an unwed mother is no sin.
Instead Walsh gets hung up, like a lot of us, on what he can actually offer. He’s worried that what he can do won’t be enough to address the need before him. “What we do is like a baptism, but not exactly.”, he tells the woman.
Nonetheless the woman persists. Instead of latching on to Walsh’s concern about any perceived inadequacy of a Child Dedication versus a Baptism, she asks to meet with him. Once they meet, she entrusts Walsh with the story of her baby’s heart defect, the child’s impending, risky surgery and the rejection she face by her own clergyman. Still, Walsh doesn’t quite get it. He’s stuck thinking about all the ceremony can’t or won’t do. That it won’t, “Wash away any sin.” And “Does not guarantee the child a place in heaven.” Or that it, “doesn’t make the child a member of the church.” And in fact, doesn’t, “change the child at all.”
Walsh recalls, The woman, “listened patiently.” And I can’t help think of all the troubles of the world that listen, patiently, as we offer up our excuses, our reasons, and our explanations, hoping troubles will just go away if we stall them long enough fretting over our inadequacies or doubting our potential impact.
Instead of going away, the woman restates her need, “All I want is to know that God blesses my baby.” And, suddenly, in a flash, Walsh finally gets it. He can do that…and, he notes, he did. Mission: possible.
The story reminds us, the troubles of the world aren’t going anywhere. They will continue to gather. To sit and listen, patiently restating their needs until we get it. Our mission, as people of faith, should we choose to accept it, is not to unearth, bemoan or explain all the ways in which our potential response might be inadequate, but to find and do what is possible in there here and now. For the truth is most things we can do to address major problems will be inadequate, initially. As the late Billie Holliday sings in “Crazy He Calls Me”, “The difficult I’ll do right now, The impossible will take a little while.” Lyrics perhaps inspired or affirmed by a more ancient source of wisdom from the Jewish tradition, "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” (attributed to the Talmud)
Which brings us to consider not just the place of our individual selves, but also of religion in the face of the enormity of the world’s grief.
Long ago our Unitarian and Universalist forbears turned away religion that emphasized human sinfulness toward one that emphasizes human goodness. Now, it would not be unfair to say, as the Christian tradition from which we emerged at times swung too far in their emphasis on human sinfulness, we, for a while, swung too far in our emphasis on human goodness.
The truth is, we are complicated beings. Our emphasis today on, “The inherent worth and dignity of every person, coupled with “respect for the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part” seems to better allow for the fullness or our complexity, the reality of our experience, and our responsibility as a religious tradition.
The world in which we live is changing rapidly. Formulaic religious responses to that world and human beings, who are driving much of the change, won’t do. Religion can no longer be, nor was it ever intended to be, about distributing answers. Life is not a standardized test.
In the face of the world’s challenges religion is called not to provide the “right” answers, but to ask the right questions, to awaken curiosity, invite discernment, cultivate wisdom, and inspire action.
Indeed let religion be, as Vincent Silliman imagined, “…The wonder and lure of that which is only partly known and understood”…. “An eye that glories in nature’s majesty…and a heart that rejoices in deeds of kindness and courage.” “Let it be a voice of renewing challenge…” and, “the sorrow that opens for us the way of sympathy, understanding and service to suffering humanity. “Let it be to us hope and purpose, and discovering of opportunities to express our best through daily tasks.” Let it religion be that which unites us “with all that is admirable in human beings everywhere and holds before us the prospect of the better life for humankind, which each may help to make actual.”
In short, let religion be mission: possible.
Mission: possible.
That is what you here at BUUC, “The little stone church that rocks!” have been doing and are called to continue to do.
It’s what you did when became a Welcoming congregation, making explicit not only your tolerance but embrace of LGBTQ people and their families. An embrace whose need has not waned.
It’s what you did when you became a Green Sanctuary, recognizing the planet not merely as a resource but as a giver and sustainer of life worthy of reverence and protection.
It’s what you do when you attend our annual vigil for victims of domestic violence. And when you gathered with me out on the front lawn for a candlelight vigil on a cold evening in December or supported youth participating in 50miles More this summer in response to gun violence.
It’s what you do when you put food in the basket for the food pantry or money in the envelope for the benevolence fund. When you reach out, make, serve or share a meal, light a candle, sing, welcome a newcomer, volunteer, bring your children to church…bring yourself to church.
Like Lowell Joerg’s letter, Robert Walsh’s story “Baptism” and Vincent Silliman’s vision of religion, what you do or find inspiration to do, here at BUUC, whether great or small, local or global, touching a single life or millions…all of it is mission:possible. How do I know? Because you’ve done it. I’ve seen it myself. It is how you brighten someone’s day; how you and I…how we… gathered hand in hand, “redistribute happiness” to world that surely needs it.
Mission: possible. It is what you can do. It is what Unitarian Universalism calls us to do. And it is what we do, together… here at BUUC.
May it be so now, and forever more.
Amen and Blessed Be
Proudly powered by Weebly