Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley

Dark of Winter

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 19:23:51 -0500

The dark of winter surrounds us. The sun appears for only nine hours a day. We are held in the womb of the night. Dark, starry skies embrace us in the infinite Darkness invites us to come inside, to gather around the fire, the hearth, to light oil lamps, candles, and the chalice. This month of the shortest days and longest nights becomes a time for stories.

Waiting

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 08:00:00 -0500

What are you waiting for? I assume you are waiting for me to say something. What are you waiting for me to say? Perhaps we are all waiting for inspiration. We wait in lots of ways. I expect a phone call. I wait for it. I stand in line waiting for a cashier. I wait while the water boils. I wait, in traffic, at the red light. I’m not always patient. The waiting can be a bother. Can’t she see the light has changed to green? Waiting can be tedious, challenging. My loved one is in surgery. I wait, and wait, and worry.

Grace: Surprise or Receptivity

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 19:00:00 -0500

Damian's birth began in the late afternoon when Carey told me simply "it's started!". This little announcement made me just giddy with excitement. I tried to be as calm as I could, but I also I knew that the arrival of our baby was imminent now and sometime within the next day or so we will become parents! The first fourteen hours of the birth was something like a slow climb up an endless staircase. Each successive contraction took a little bit more effort and a little more will to get through. And of course, I was not the one doing the climbing so all I could do was to cheer-lead and try to keep distractions out of the way. Though I'm so glad that we now live in a culture where men are not excluded from this process. Because I really think it brought us closer together, and just in a time when we'd be needing each other more than ever. The last hour of labor was not like a climb anymore, it was more like a roller coaster ride. We were surrounded by all kinds of people and everything was happening really fast. Then when Damian was finally born the doctor whisked him away immediately and we were together almost alone holding hands. This moment seemed both very calm and overflowing with anticipation. Finally, when Damian was already laying on the scale being weighed, our doula said to me: "Come and meet your son, Pawel".

The Promise of Living / River of Peace

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 22:07:37 -0500

Just in time for Thanksgiving, I watched a PBS Nature film “My Life as a Turkey.” Joe Hutto incubated wild turkey eggs and waited. The chicks hatch, see Joe. Through this imprinting, they see him as their mother. Joe spends each day mothering. Like parents of children, he cares for his family around the clock. He raises sixteen turkey chicks. World religions, prophets, poets tell us only love will save us. How does love manifest among creatures? How does love save our country? Can love bring well-being, housing, health care, education for 100% of us?

Everyday Grace

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 21:32:59 -0500

I have a reading, a an excerpt of a poem to share with you first this morning, and so I invite you to settle in, maybe close your eyes and open your ears and imagination. You Can’t Have it All by Barbara Ras But you can have the fig tree and its fat leaves like clown hands gloved with green. You can have the touch of a single eleven-year-old finger on your cheek, waking you at one a.m. to say the hamster is back. You can have the purr of the cat and the soulful look of the black dog, the look that says, If I could I would bite every sorrow until it fled, And when it is August, you can have it August and abundantly so. You can have love, though often it will be mysterious, like the white foam that bubbles up at the top of the bean pot over the red kidneys… You can speak a foreign language, sometimes, and it can mean something…. And you can be… [grateful for makeup, the way it kisses your face, half spice, half amnesia,] grateful for Mozart, his many notes racing one another towards joy, For towels sucking up the drops on your clean skin, and for deeper thirsts, for passion fruit, for saliva. … You can have your grandfather sitting on the side of your bed, at least for a while, and you can have clouds and letters, the leaping of distances, and Indian food with yellow sauce like sunrise. You can’t count on grace to pick you out of a crowd but here is your friend to teach you how to high jump, how to throw yourself over the bar, backwards, until you learn about love, about sweet surrender…. And when adulthood fails you, you can still summon the memory of the black swan on the pond of your childhood, the rye bread with peanut butter and bananas your grandmother gave you while the rest of the family slept. There is the voice you can still summon at will, like your mother’s, it will always whisper, you can’t have it all, but there is this.

Gift of Grace

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 06 Nov 2011 20:03:33 -0500

Grace. Is it the movement of a dancer?A chorus of dancers?Is it words of thanksgiving before a meal? Grace. Is it the name of a beloved one?Is it a title as in Your Grace? Theologically, in the Christian tradition,Grace is the Love of God, unmerited,bestowed freely upon humankind.It is a sense of protection, of being chosen,whether you want to be, or not. It's a difficult term for those of us who wonder about God,or who prefer to speak of reality in non-theological language. That's why Grace is our theme for the month of November.

Reverence for All

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 19:10:03 -0400

Watch the video Reverence breathes new meaning into old forms. Reverence is our theme for the month. We’ve affirmed being true to oneself, revering the integrity of being. We’ve affirmed reverence for relationship, I and Thou. Today we open up further. A wide embrace: Reverence for All. I love talking with people who are discovering Unitarian Universalism. Each conversation is unique, as each person’s story is unique. Our life journeys are shared with others, and each is one of a kind. No one in this room has shared every moment of your life. While our journeys into Unitarian Universalism are unique, people share experiences with me that are common. Often they have to do with authenticity, integrity, and determination. Many come here on a religious journey that has had stops in a variety of settings, different religious backgrounds, different types of Christian churches, or being raised outside organized religion. Whatever the experiences, there is something for which we are still longing.

Walking Together: I and Thou

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 08:00:00 -0400

I love walking. I guess I got that from my mother. My mother started walking 5 miles a day when she was 70, when she was 80 we didn’t know where she was. I walk to clear my head, ease tension, get away from the computer and get outside. I walk as my physical and spiritual exercise. I walk regularly with a friend. We walk and talk. Each of us takes a turn speaking of what’s going on in our lives. We listen. We honor each other and reveal what’s deepest and dearest. Our walks are a relationship practice. My friend and I affirm and promote each other’s inherent worth and dignity. That’s the first of our Unitarian Universalist principles. I have to admit sometimes I like long walks when they are taken by somebody who annoys me. How do we affirm and promote the worth and dignity of somebody when we want to say “take a hike, buddy.” Sometimes someone may seem particularly unworthy and undignified, and it is not always just ourselves we’re thinking about. The affirmation of worth and dignity is like a North Star to guide us. It’s something we reach for. A constant yearning. We long to see our own and others’ goodness.

Coming Out - Being True to Yourself

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 18:41:02 -0400

Secrets and Lies Donna Secrets and lies………………..and being true to oneself. If you have a deep and abiding affinity for the truth, what happens to your soul if you feel you must live with secrets and lies? We are told to “love thy neighbor as thyself.” How can you love yourself when the most vibrant part of your life is hidden? I grew up in an era in which all kinds of sexuality were hidden. Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual—I don’t remember ever hearing these terms until I was in college. Cars were the bedrooms of the unwed, and steering wheels had necking knobs, so called because necking (that is, activity above the neck) was the presumed limit of juvenile sexuality. It wasn’t just sexual relationships with women I couldn’t acknowledge—I wasn’t supposed to be in bed with anyone. In my family, the whole subject was never mentioned by the adults. My cousin and I mentioned it—a lot— mostly wondering if someone would be a good kisser. I am 14. I come home from a date with my lipstick smeared. The next time I have a date my parents make sure I’m not home by taking me to a movie. Nothing is said.

Sharing the Journey, Coming Out Sunday

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Sharing the Journey Susan

Finally, the Grout

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Making Room at the Table: Immigration and Hospitality

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Watch the video. You are welcome here. You have a place. Here may you be seen for who you are, be given opportunities to use and develop your gifts, do good work, raise your family, be supported by community. Last Sunday most members of this congregation raised their hands when Bill asked us to indicate if we grew up with something other than Unitarian Universalism. Many of us migrated from other religions or from secularism to Unitarian Universalism. We are travelers on a spiritual journey. We know something about leaving one place in search of one that will be better for us and for our families. We make the journey ourselves or welcome people who come to our doors. Religious stories are of migration. Unitarian Universalism draws from roots in the Jewish and Christian traditions. Our Jewish roots tell the exodus of a people from one land in search for the Promised Land. Our Christian roots tell the story of God migrating into the human world.

Hospitality

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Watch the video Hospitality. When do you receive it? How do you offer it? Spring of 2002, Barbara and I ride a cross-country bus on our way to Antalya, in southern Turkey. It’s a long ride. The two of us are the only non-local people on the bus. It’s just six month’s after the September 11th attacks and not many U.S. citizens are even in this part of the world. We ride the bus all day. The bus pulls into Antalya, at least we think it’s Antalya. We have no shared language with our fellow travelers or bus driver. Many people are friendly, but communication isn’t easy. We have no plans for where to stay for the night. We’re not even sure at which stop we should depart the bus. We get off at what seems to be the center of town. We get our backpacks. It is raining and we are hungry. All we have is the tail end of a loaf of bread. We find a nearby alleyway with an overhang, a little cover from the rain. Surely we look forlorn and lost. We nibble on our crust of bread, unsure which way to go. Out of nowhere a person appears with a tray with tea for two. He offers us the tea. Just as mysteriously as this person arrived, he disappears. Such a surprise. The sweet hot tea warms our bodies, comforts. Open arms. These are open arms.

Ten Years Later: Where Were You on September 11?

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 18:11:03 -0400

Early September 11, 2001 Bill’s mother called and told us to turn on the TV. We did and sat before it huddled together. I wanted to stay there with the covers around me like a cocoon. A ministerial colleague called and said “What are we going to do?” And I remembered, “Its Tuesday morning.” Tuesday morning worship was scheduled at the church. I drove from home to church. People on the streets drove their cars slowly and nodded tenderly toward one another. When I got here, the church bookkeeper Ernestine Campbell was alone in the building. She and I hugged and cried. I prepared for morning worship. More people came than usual. We sang and prayed and held each other. Julie Kain was just beginning as intern minister and Sally White as acting director of religious education. Julie, Sally, Bill, and I quickly prepared a worship service for 7:00 that evening. Word spread about the service. Some people came saying they just knew there would be something at the church. All of us sang, prayed and held each other. Thursday evening after the supper, we held a healing circle. Friday noon we had a prayer service. Sunday we gathered for worship with the pews full and overflowing. People needed one another. We always do. In my memory, 3000 lit candles filled that altar. That couldn’t be possible, yet I see them glowing.

Who Gets What - Economic Injustice in America

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Good Morning! It is a great day to be alive. Of course, as it always was and always shall be, it is a better day for some than others. Though Bob Dylan wisely notes that “we all wear the same thorny crown,” it is probably a better day if you are a billionaire than it is if you have lost your job, lost your home and find your children among the 16 million American kids living below the poverty line. The top 400 individuals in America now have a net worth equal to the bottom 150 million people! Studies show that people who place tremendous emphasis on material well-being tend to be less happy than people who don’t. On the other hand those who have no money worries are happier than those not knowing where they will get their next meal or where they will sleep tonight. Wouldn’t you rather be rich than homeless? Whether or not one considers this to be a great day to be alive is of course based on more than just income. But with the income gap between the few who are filthy rich and the many that are dirt poor ever widening, wealth or the lack thereof is becoming ever more a factor in the quality of our lives. America is #1 when it comes to income inequality among the wealthy industrialized countries. We need to acknowledge that we live in an unequal and polarized society. All men, I mean all boys and all girls, are created anything but equal.

Unitarian Universalist Mosaic Makers - The Tree of Life

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 08:00:00 -0400

I return from the Sierras – its mountains, streams and forests.In the Sierras, life and death seem natural, pieces of on-going existence. Physicist David Bohm describes reality as being "unbroken wholeness in flowing movement." I feel that flowing unbroken wholeness in the Sierras. Snow melt from the mountains becomes rushing streams. In the forest you look up to the high tops of the big trees.At your feet you see decomposing pine needles and cones.Fallen big trees turn into rich earth.On the forest floor, disintegrating treesgrow shoots of new green life. Unbroken wholeness, interwoven, all connected. The Tree of Life is a mythical, universal symbol of life.

Do No Harm

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Do No Harm. What does this mean? This world is full of harm and woe. We human beings feel it, and cause it, at a staggering level. Modern-day slavery, famine, terrorism, female genital mutilation, cruelty to children, battering of intimate partners, toxins in water and food, addictions, a lack of proper treatment for illnesses of the mind or body, racial profiling, sweat-shop labor, detention without cause, imprisonment without trial, torture, demagoguery, financial corruption, crushing debt. We do harm to ecosystems, to future generations of people. We do harm to our own bodies, our spirits, our dignity.Yet in addition to harm, the world is full of beauty, goodness and healing power. The world is a gift. Every day is a blessing. A day is full of choices to refrain from harm. Every day is a chance to do more good than harm, to use our powers and resources to help and heal, to be kind to ourselves and others. The Do No Harm network started five years ago, made up of people in Europe, Australia, and this country. It's a not-for-profit organization, but it does not seek donations, has no plans to build a headquarters. Using the world wide web, it promotes conversation and reflection on what it calls the most basic principle of moral life. Its members want to spread a message of mindfulness, to unleash an epidemic of empathy and ethical thinking. On the web site, a group of middle school students from Wisconsin write answers on the topic, Do No Harm. Protect the environment, treat people fairly, let everyone participate free of fear. Follow laws and rules, one youth says, "like our student handbook"—it's for your own safety! Following safety rules is an important beginning. But how far should our thoughts extend as we strive to do no harm? What I mean is this: We are connected with all the beings on earth, connected in a web, with beings now living, and those yet to come. We can imagine the ways that our choices have an impact around the globe. Think of human-caused climate change, or the abuses against workers who make the products we buy, or who harvest and process our food. Is it possible even to move around without being part of something harmful? Just the use of my car involves harm: oil drilling, oil spills, habitat loss, lands of native tribes in other countries taken away or poisoned with carcinogens, corruption and violence to keep revenues for the rich and powerful. There's refinery pollution and there's my own car's exhaust pipe. Some people use this approach--this kind of intention--when they choose their food. Knowing that some degree of suffering is involved in the raising, transporting, and killing of animals for food, many people choose vegetarianism. Some people buy organic food, or foods not raised with pesticides, knowing that pesticides —whatever their beneficial purpose—may cause harm to workers on farms, nearby neighbors, or local wildlife. Can any one of us be pure, can we live without connection to harm? Well, maybe, if we stop driving, flying in airplanes, shopping, eating... breathing! No, we can't be pure, but can strive to be mindful when choosing our actions and words. We can try to reduce harm. Thinking back to myself as a youngster... I am fearing that pollution will be the end of the world. It's the 1970s, and the government's finally taking action. Fearful sights of toxic sewage in rivers and lakes, smokestacks belching poison, chemical wastes left in fields. I am scared. Gasoline's got lead in it, my people drive gas guzzlers. Then I get the teenager's prize possession: a driver's license. Should I make this trip to the movies, this one to my friend's house in the country? What harms can I avoid? But it feels so good behind the wheel of mom's car! How fast can it go on the long hilly roads when there's nobody around? It can go to a hundred, and it is exhilarating! One day in high school, Mrs. Hughey the Latin teacher tells my class that her cat has had kittens. The next day I bring her a brochure about the pet population explosion: "10,000 unwanted dogs and cats born every hour." I explain: Even if the kittens find a home, they still add to the problem, because others will be strays, will die in terrible ways. Did I really say this? Well, she's grandmotherly, I'm good in Latin, and I am worried! She thanks me. She understands the problem, but she didn't spay the cat in time. She promises that she will. A middle school student from Wisconsin, writing on the web site, shows some of my own earnestness: Do No Harm means to have gentle hands toward everyone, to love and care about every living thing. [It] means not hunt our wildlife, but to look with amazement and compare our worlds. Do No Harm means to respect our elders, not only because they are older, but because it's the right thing to do. Do No Harm means to love and care about every living thing, no matter how big, no matter how small. Do No Harm means taking care of the Earth because God gave it to us to love and respect. Do No Harm means DO NO HARM! Do No Harm. What does it mean to you? Of course, this phrase does not promote any one theological belief, but it echoes with many traditions. It encourages us to be mindful and aware, which is a lesson from Buddhism. And in the Hebrew scriptures, the Prophet Micah says: "What does the Almighty require of you, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)" In the words of a 19th century Swiss philosopher: "Life is short and we have not much time for gladdening the hearts of those who travel the way with us. Oh, be swift to love! Make haste to be kind!" 1 In the Wiccan religion, part of the Neo-pagan movement, the key moral statement is: An it harm none, do as ye will. That's an archaic way of saying: "Do what you wish, so long as it harms none." Do No Harm includes not only avoiding hurt, but choosing to help others. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus instructs: "Just as you want people to do to you, you also do to them likewise. (Luke 6:31)" Easy, right? Since I know how I wish to be treated, that's how I will treat you. But what I want may not be what you need. It may not be how you wish to be treated. I won't know that unless I ask you, and listen for the answer. We won't know how to help instead of harm if we do not ask one another and listen to one another. Doing no harm takes work, thought, attention, awareness. It calls for humility. On a Friday afternoon, the gentle sun brightens my apartment's wood floors as I type at my kitchen table. Trees blow in the wind, cars and bikes glide by on city streets below the window. The day is a blessing. I've had my lunch: boiled eggs (free range), toast (natural grains), yogurt (organic). My old red car sits at the curb a block away. Its cover of grime, pollen, dead leaves and bird poop shows that I have more important things to do than spend money, time or precious water cleaning off a material possession. Not since late Wednesday night has my car put any exhaust in the atmosphere! Thursday I used light rail and bus to go to work, and caught a ride home with a church member after a night meeting. Today I did my errands on foot. Saturday looks to be low-carbon as well. I'm writing my sermon, reflecting on the importance of mindfulness—and humility! Now the doorbell rings, a rare occasion at my apartment. A neighbor? A religious visitor? Oh, my. Somebody must have left the gate unlocked! I open the door to a tall man, about my age. "Do you have a red Honda?" Yes. "It's been parked in front of my driveway for three days." No, that's somebody else's red Honda --I think but do not say. "The police are on their way to have it towed," he tells me. I follow him down my steps and out to the street. Of course it's my car, blocking his driveway. He says, "I got the parking enforcement woman to tell me your address." He doesn't seem angry. [I say:] Sir, I am so sorry! You couldn't get in your driveway for three days? Oh my God. He thinks it was three days. It was only two. I got home Wednesday night and this is Friday. But I figure I don't have much room to quibble with him. Pointing to my windshield, he says: "Parking Enforcement gave you a ticket. But that's better than being towed. A tow truck is on its way, so you may want to hide it off the street." As I open the car door to get in, I say, I don't have any paper to give you my number, but I bet I won't do this to you again! And besides, you know where I live. "Yes, I know where you live," he laughs. I drive off, and he pulls his long black pick-up truck into the driveway. I move my car and walk home. The ticket—the fine for the harm I've caused—totals 62.50. At least no towing charges, no frustration on Sunday morning when I can't find my car and I need to get to church. On many ordinary days, I mutter nasty thoughts when I see the Parking Enforcement officer's little vehicle on my street. The size of a golf cart, it goes putt-putting around the block, watching for cars of those who overstay their one-hour parking limit. Now, I know that Jesus had meals with tax collectors and parking-ticket officers, but I resent them. They'd say they're just enforcing the law, following policy. Today, I'm thankful that one of them broke with policy, and gave out my address to a neighbor. Faced with an inconvenience like the one I've caused my neighbor, many people in his situation would fume and stew about it. They'd be anything but kind. Even I, in the same situation, might feel righteous pleasure waiting as the tow truck approached to remove the offending vehicle. But this man has made another choice: the option of kindness. It's an act of empathy—he must have taken a moment to imagine what it would be like to find your car towed away—how confusing, how costly it is. He even said to me, "It's kind of a narrow driveway, easy to miss." I caused him harm without intending to—a thoughtless mistake. Now he has chosen to keep me from harm. I'm so grateful for his kindness, his forgiveness in action. Now, back to sermon writing. What was I talking about? Oh, yes, mindfulness. And humility. Humility is the gift of remembering that we may not be as mindful, kind, thoughtful or harmless as we'd like to imagine. Do No Harm. What does it mean for you? It's not a doctrine, and not a prescription or a proscription, in spite of the imperative nature of the slogan. There's not a set of rules or boxes to check off. It's a question, a prod, an invitation. Do No Harm. Here's what it means for me, for right now: I can pause to consider the results of my choices and actions, before I make a choice, take an action or speak a word. I can practice kindness to others and to myself. I can join in common struggle with others to stop harm from continuing, to help out, to bring some healing to the world. We can work together for justice, fairness, and peace. I can show gratitude for the gift of life, and the gift of every new day. Enjoy the gift, and share it. So may it be. May all be free from harm, and may all find a reason for giving thanks. Amen. ____________________________ 1 Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881), quoted by Martin E. Marty in Context, p. B-8, December 2010. Thanks to Clyde Grossman, Bay Area co-founder of www.DoNoHarm.us. Copyright © 2011, Rev. Roger Jones. All Rights Reserved

UU Mosaic Makers: What We Make Together

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 08:00:00 -0400

July 1891. It was an exciting time in Berkeley. On Sunday, the 12th, 32 people signed as charter members of the First Unitarian Church of Berkeley. It is said that this organizational meeting was held on the first floor of the Odd Fellows Temple, in the saloon. Our history says, “suitable quarters were found for subsequent meetings.” 120 years ago this month it all began. Or did it? That glorious month of “beginnings” was built on a foundation years in the making. This Triple Anniversary year, celebrates 120 years since our founding, 50 years in this building, and 50 years of consolidation of Unitarians and Universalists. We always build on the gifts of others. What We Make Together rises from firm foundations. Most of us know the name Thomas Starr King. He was the second minister of the First Unitarian Church of San Francisco in the 1860s. A young man sits in the pews listening to Starr King preach. He is inspired by compassionate words calling for California to reject slavery and stay in the Union. He is moved by images of a loving God offering salvation to all people. Charles Wendte decides to go back East and train as a Unitarian minister. In 1886, The Rev. Charles Wendte returns to the Bay Area as the Western States Superintendent for the American Unitarian Association. He believes the world would be a better place if love was our doctrine, if the quest of truth was our sacrament, and if service was our prayer.

UU Mosaic Makers: The Glue That Holds Us Together

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 01:01:44 -0400

May the love which heals and unites speak through my lips, and move through and among us. What do chipped plates, shoe soles, a fish’s fractured fin, a cracked elephant tusk, a broken tortoise shell, a race car, the space shuttle and battle wounds have in common? Super glue! Yes, super glue mends chipped plates, seals soles, repairs fins, shells, and tusks, holds together a race car and the space shuttle and binds wounds. During wars, super glue closes chest wounds. This stops the bleeding to get the wounded patient back to the base hospital. The glue saves lives.

You Gotta Have Faith, Faith, Faith

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 08:00:00 -0400

There’s a classic George Michael song from the 1980s that I take my sermon title from this morning: “You Gotta Have Faith, Faith, Faith.” We call ourselves a community of faith. Our religious education programs are a Tapestry of Faith. And yet, faith is not a topic I hear discussed around here very often. I have a hunch that in true Unitarian Universalist fashion, if we were all to be asked, “Do you have faith?” a frequent answer would involve a little apprehension and a need for more information: “What kind of faith are you talking about? Faith in what, exactly?” A conversation about faith can be a time when our theological differences become more apparent than our theological similarities. Some of us have faith in ourselves, some have faith in each other, some have faith in humanity as a whole, some in God, some in many gods, some in the order of the universe, some in some combination of all of these and more! This morning, I’d like to suggest that to get too caught up in these differences is to miss the point – you gotta have faith. And so the question becomes, what is faith, and how do we have it. Working in the hospital where I am a chaplain, the word faith comes up a lot, most often spoken by patients facing a difficult diagnosis, who say “I’m just going to have faith.” They often then go on to talk about staying hopeful and spending time on the things that matter most to them. So as the years have gone by, in my head, I have come to translate the sentence “I’m just going to have faith” to mean “I don’t know what is coming next, but I’m choosing to move forward anyway.” As I see it, faith is not about blind belief, but about trying to meet the world in every moment with your eyes open and your arms outstretched.

Everything I Have Not Yet Told You

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Rev. Chris' Last Sunday at UUCB

Unitarian Universalist Mosaic Makers

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Sunday School. A Unitarian church. The 1950s. We study evolution. Charles Darwin was a Unitarian. Adaptation over millions of years produced all life we know. Our class takes a huge sheet of paper. We draw roots, a trunk, branches. We are all connected. We depend upon one another more than we know. We take crayons and color our Tree of Life. Sea creatures. Insects. Reptiles. Mammals. The tree grows as does our understanding. Next year’s class looks at our drawing. They ask, What if we took broken pieces of linoleum and glued them to a piece of plywood? Brown and green, blue and orange, and this bright red for the woodpecker’s head. They make a mosaic of the Tree of Life. They hang it where all the classes since then see the Tree of Life. With mosaics, what appears separate close up, blends from afar.

You Don't Have to Think Alike to Love Alike

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 29 May 2011 08:00:00 -0400

Dragged Kicking and Screaming Into Heaven

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Tue, 24 May 2011 18:53:46 -0400

Recently Rob Bell an evangelical made a big splash with a book entitled Love Wins. It is a renewal of Universalism's ancient proclamation, a message we have been preaching for centuries and Christan orthodoxy finds it as alarming now as ever. Reading the Time magazine article “What if There is No Hell?” I wondered why does Bell get to be attacked and not us? How is that we have been proclaiming “God is Love” in North America for nearly 250 years and were not even mentioned? I know the answer. We have been too timid and our proclamation of love's victory too tepid. Now, as we prepare to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the merger of Unitarianism and Universalism, is an appropriate time to consider why. At merger some feared the demise of Universalism. Outnumber three to one they were understandably anxious. They were also mistaken. That is not what happened. What happened is that we ended up with a Unitarian form of polity and Universalist theology. In 1961 there was no way to know this would transpire because it could only happen as subsequent generations lived out what it meant to be neither Universalist nor Unitarian but rather Unitarian Universalist. The lived experience must precede its theological articulation.

Reproductive Compassion

podcasts@uucb.org (Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley) — Sun, 08 May 2011 08:00:00 -0400

I find this ironic and perhaps meaningful. Back in September on the day of the Children’s Blessing, I delivered my first sermon to you. Today, on Mother’s Day, I deliver my last sermon. Now, my internship is 9-months long. 9-months. A cycle of gestation and birth. Gestation: New life growing! Gosh, I am so tired. Excitement-- what will it be like? Uh oh--more nausea. Back aches, swollen feet. Moodiness. Elastic waistbands. First movements, celebrations, gadgets and tools for the journey. Oh my gosh, I have to run to bathroom all the time. Birth-- pulsing, pain, aches, shrieks and groans, breathing, tears, blood, exhaustion. Joy. New life. Yup, sounds like a internship to me.