The title of this sermon came to me a couple of weeks ago, before I had any idea what I was going to say. My task in the intervening time was to figure out what I needed to talk with you about this morning, or more accurately, what I thought you needed to hear. I am delivering this sermon in the context of today’s annual meeting. In the annual meeting, we gather to do the work of the church- to hear annual reports from people who have played various roles this past year, to vote for new Board members and a budget for the coming year - to transact various items of church business. We adhere to the democratic process in this place- each person has a voice, and all church members 18 years of age and older have a vote. One of the Unitarian Universalist principles states that we covenant to affirm and promote the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process. I think it is worth reviewing what that means.
Each of us has a conscience, and has our own way of viewing the world. In this church, and in this country, we have the right, and the responsibility, to be true to our conscience and to speak the truth as we understand it. Democracy is a serious process. It requires full participation and constant vigilance. If we don’t take responsibility and preserve our rights, our rights may be lost, as we see in the recent threats to our civil liberties in this so called time of war.
We are also reminded of our own fallibilty, our own inability to see the whole picture all the time. I am reminded of the story of the blind men trying to describe an elephant which stood in their midst - the man who stood by the elephant’s tail described it as rope-like; the one who felt it’s ear described it as like a winnowing basket; the one who felt it’s side thought it was like a wall; the one who felt it’s leg was sure that it was like a tree trunk; and the one who touched the elephant’s trunk knew it was like a thick rope. They were all partially right, but none of them was completely right. Having just part of the picture doesn’t mean we shouldn’t share those pieces of the picture that we can see... in fact it is necessary that we do so; others can’t necessarily see what we can. But, we need to share with some humility, and with the willingness to really listen to others’ points of view, and to have our own vision broadened in the process. Democracy is an active process requiring the participation of many. This includes you. We all make choices.
It may feel easier, at times, to let others decide, and to just follow along. Perhaps we feel too busy, overwhelmed, or incompetent. Maybe others look more competent in contrast with us. Comparison is a tricky business, as we really have no idea what others are facing in their lives. Maybe our commitments lie elsewhere- with family, work, or other good causes. But we are here, in this church community. We know that it’s not easy being a Unitarian Universalist... that there are no easy answers here. And yet, we have chosen to be here. We all make choices.
Sometimes we are afraid- whether of taking risks, of doing something different, or of facing the possible consequences of our actions. I recently read in the newspaper of a mother who was using a billboard in Syracuse to implore witnesses to her son’s death last year to come forward. It’s hard to imagine the great pain of a mother whose son has been killed, compounded by frustration that witnesses have remained silent for a year. A police investigator commented: This is extremely frustrating. We know there were multiple people out there, including friends of the victim, who witnessed this. This should have been an easy case for us to solve.” But instead the case drags on, since no one will talk, and the mom goes to the expense of renting a billboard. She points out that there is a code of silence, fear of being considered a snitch, or fear of retaliation. But she seeks justice for her son’s death, and she and the police need help from the community. When we hold pieces of a puzzle, we can choose to hold them, or they can be shared and put together to form a coherent picture. We all make choices.
This week I was talking with my son and learned that he had only done half of his math homework that day. I guess other kids in the class also hadn’t completed theirs. When the teacher asked whether she had given homework in addition to preparation for the Regent’s test, no one in the class admitted that they had been given homework. The teacher thought she had just been nice not to give homework; in reality the kids had already developed a code of silence. Which of them would have wanted to be the one to speak up and get his or her classmates in trouble; which of them would have chosen to be labeled a snitch? We hear about the blue wall of silence among police officers, which can interfere with internal investigations in police departments. I think the same silence can be found in many groups, especially groups which see themselves as a cohesive minority in a sea of indifference or hostility. This silence can be dysfunctional, at best; dangerous at its worst. We all make choices.
I heard this week on the news that a new United States Secretary of the Treasury was being selected from Goldman Sachs, a private corporation. A culture of service evidently exists in that corporation, so this wasn’t unusual. But the new Secretary will take a major cut in salary in order to serve our nation in this way. We all make choices.
I sang recently with the Raging Grannies at the New York Civil Liberties Union (NYCLU) fund-raising dinner. The president of the NYCLU gave a moving speech in which she talked about the importance of the NYCLU in defending the rights of people, which would otherwise be trampled. She urged us to fill out pledge cards to demonstrate our commitment, and to be more generous than we had planned to be. I realized that yes, it is a good cause, but I also thought about this church and my need to support it in whatever ways I can. We all make choices.
Sometimes our choices are not either/ or but both/ or neither. Each of us has the right of conscience, and the responsibility to decide. Talking with one of the Raging Grannies about our participation in singing at various events, she said something along the lines of: I think we all need to make a commitment to sing at whatever events we agree to go to; otherwise what’s the purpose of being a part of the group? While we acknowledged that things come up that need to be given priority- sickness, family, moving, and so on, I thought she made a good point. And people here, busy as they are, have made generous commitments of time, talent, and treasure to this church. I’m impressed. We all make choices.
I was reminded recently by one of our church members about how much this small congregation has accomplished... installation of the lift and handicap accessibilty, the roof replacement, the replacement of furnaces, the stained glass window and window-sill refurbishment... so many things have been done for the good of the physical plant. And then there’s the contribution of time- for example, some of us have spent most of this weekend in church-related activities- from Friday night’s video-discussion session; to Saturday’s Adult Religious Education workshop on Racism and the UU Circle dinner; to today’s worship service and the up-coming annual church meeting. Some of us didn’t choose to do them all; and some did. A lot has been offered and accomplished. We all make choices.
There is a saying that change is inevitable; suffering is optional. I think it is important to note that change will happen, whether we want it to or not. Where there is growth, there is also death and decay. The process will be painful at times, as we experience the need to let go of familiar things to which we have become attached. But the alternative to life, growth, and change is stagnation, atrophy, and death. When we can see the process, for what it is, and become engaged in it, we can help to influence the direction of the changes. So the message this morning is that there is great hope for the future of this congregation, but that participation by all of us is required. We all make choices.
I am reminded of another story- this one is called The Lords’ Club. There once was a group of lords. When it came time to organize themselves and figure out who was going to do the various jobs- president, treasurer, cook, cleaner of toilets, disposer of trash, and so on, they had to think about it really hard. They were all royalty. None of them were used to cooking, cleaning toilets, or taking out the trash, but all of them realized that those were important jobs and someone had to do them. They had agreed that the club would just be for lords, so they couldn’t just import women or immigrants to do the tough jobs. They had to think outside the box. Finally it was decided that they would take turns doing the various jobs- one of them would be the president the first week, and would clean the toilets the next week. Then he’d move on to be the cook, the treasurer, and the disposer of trash. Other lords in the club would do likewise, and they were all happy. Each of them remembered that he was a lord, whatever role he happened to be playing. We are like that in this church. We covenant to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person. That includes us. We are all worthy. We need to remember that. We can each contribute, in our own ways, to this great fellowship that we call our church. May it be so.