Reverend Darcey Laine
February 8, 2004
Palo Alto, CA
When I applied to Grad School, I asked my best friend Suzanne, whom I had known me since our mothers put us in a playpen together, to write a letter of recommendation for me. I have to confess, I was a little nervous, because she has seen be at some of the weirder, more personal moments in my life. I wondered what she would write. Imagine my surprise reading a copy of the letter she sent in which she talked about my success as a Unitarian Universalist evangelist. You see, ever since I was a toddler and got to know the senior high volunteers who provided some of our childcare, I always wanted to be in LRY (That stands for Liberal Religious Youth, the name of our youth group at that time). No one was cooler than those teenagers in LRY. They went everywhere as a pack, and had LRY painted in giant purple letters on the wall of their room at the church. The main purpose of Sunday School, as far I was concerned, was to prepare you for LRY.
Unfortunately, LRY disbanded when I was in 8th grade. When I was a freshman, a rookie advisor was given the task of creating a new group from the 1 former LRY member who hadn't graduated yet, 3 freshmen, and a sophomore who had gotten lost in the shuffle. For several of the meetings it was just me and our advisor Bill, playing Trivial Pursuit or planning for the future of the group. About once a month, we managed to get all 5 members of the group in the room at one time. Repainting the room with our own logo was one of our early successes I remember. Our midnight trips to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show were legendary. I went from feeling awkward about the small number in our group, to really loving my motley band. I'm sure you've heard me tell stories about this youth group that managed to bring together Jocks, hippies, wallflowers and nerds.
Then one day, I was talking to my friend Beth, and suggested she might like to come to a meeting sometime. Before I knew it, both she and her mom were regulars at the church. I knew my friend Suzanne was happy as a Presbyterian, but thought she might like to hang out with us on Sunday nights. Together we recruited a couple more of our friends who thought their church's youth group was too large and too "cliquish."
So when I read Suzanne's letter to the admissions committee, I was surprised to hear my missionary work praised, because I had never thought of it in any other way than inviting my friends to share a group I thought they would enjoy.
Now I'm all grown up, and an ordained minister in a church which has a commitment to grow. This is great. My colleagues tell me that many of our churches are not interested in growing, and through the forces of attrition slowly shrink over the years, some even die. A desire for growth can take many forms however. In a panel discussion before the General Assembly last summer, UUA president Bill Sinkford described something he called the "Vampire theory of growth" By this he means that the motivation for growth is "fresh blood." This is an approach to growth that looks at what potential new members could bring to a community. And of course new members bring tremendous gifts: their excitement, their fresh ideas, their added support for the church. But The Rev. Sinkford assures us that this is not why most new members join a church- because they want a place to offer their gifts. Sinkford posits an alternate -- that we think not in terms of "acquisition" but of service. What is it that the community needs? What is it that the families of Palo Alto and Mountain View are missing from their lives? What are the elders of Los Altos wanting that they can't get anywhere else? What hunger does a Stanford student have that we might fill?
This question brings to mind a class I took at the Jesuit school which involved a trip to Guatemala. Our visit centered around a Catholic Mission in the lake side town of San Lucas Toleman. The mission building was old and the largest building in town. It's modest decorations made it one of the loveliest as well. The head priest there briefed us about the activities of the mission since the bloody civil war. One of the main issues, he said was that 17 families owned 95% of the land. The church, therefore, was buying plots of land where it could, giving the lots to neighbors, helping them to build sturdy concrete homes instead of the cardboard and tin shelters we saw so frequently. The families were trusted to pay back the cost of the land and the building materials as they could afford to do so. Another problem the mission wanted to address was that people made their living working plots of land that was owned by others. By the time they paid their percentage to the land owner, and the costs of farming, they often were further in debt to the landowner after a harvest than before. They worked and lived on their farm, but because they grew cash crops, there was no food to feed their own families. The Mission created projects like a fair trade coffee cooperative, and an organic farm to help begin to deal with these issues.
One evening we interviewed a man, Roberto, in his home that the church had built. You can believe he was a strong supporter of the church. One of my classmates asked him: what do the other churches in town, Pentecostal, Lutheran, Baptist and many others, what do these churches do. Roberto answered with a chuckle "they pray."
Though we were invited to attend Mass while we visited, no one ever attempted to convert us. Yet I was impressed with the impact of the mission on this small town. This is missionary work at it's best, I thought then, and still believe. What are some basic principles we can extract from this example that guide such mission work. The first I think is walking your talk- living your principles. For the Catholic Mission this principle might have sounded something like "embodying God's love in the world, or following the example of Jesus." But a mission built on affirming the Inherent Worth and dignity of every person, or the value of Justice Equity and compassion in human relations might look very similar, as witnessed, for example in the work of the UU Service Committee.
Another important principle is listening. The priests who guided the work of the Guatemalan mission began by listening to the residents of the village, to their concerns and troubles. They listened to the failures of programs that were impractical or not consonant with the lives of the people. They listened to the political landscape, studied the history and learned where political power was held. Without listening, we fall into the trap of the missionaries Bill mentioned in his reflection, guided by the idea that our own agenda is primary, that our own knowing is more valid than the wisdom of the people impacted by it. The importance of listening is why our own Peninsula Interfaith Action spends so much time talking in one to one interviews, listening to dozens of people tell their stories before committing to a course of action.
The third principle comes more from my own story of accidental evangelism than from the Guatemalan mission, and this is: Speaking your truth. This is perhaps the most difficult for Unitarian Universalists. Perhaps you are wary from having opinions different from your own forced on you. Perhaps you are weary from telling your own opinion only to have it shot down by others. Many people say they find refuge in our church because it is a safe place to speak your own mind and heart. This implies that the larger world is not such a safe place.
Thomas Groome, a Catholic Religious Educator whose books are required reading for UU candidates for the ministry, spoke before the General Assembly a few years ago. He said that if we define "soul" not as "the ghost in the machine" but as "the deepest heart" that even we Unitarian Universalists were in the business of saving souls. I know this to be true. I know that Unitarian Universalism has a special saving power, that many of you in this room have experienced. Maybe something you experienced at this or some other Unitarian Universalist community touched you deeply, was a healing balm during a difficult time, or an open door at a time when you felt oppressed. For me it was that Senior High youth group, that sense of finding my people who accepted me strange ideas and all.
When I invited my friends to join my youth group, I was sharing my truth. I was sharing the good news of my faith. And those friends stayed because they found that what I told them about my experience of my youth group was true for them as well. Is it harder to take such a risk as an adult? A couple of members here have told me that they get funny looks if they mention church to their friends. Have such looks driven you underground? There are several kinds of good news we may be timid to share- the scariest would be that we go to a church that we think our friend might really like. Another scary thing to share could be the role our church plays in our lives: "I can't work late tonight because I've got a covenant group." It can also be frightening to share any truth on the level of the soul - sharing experiences that touched us in a profound way, that made us feel vulnerable and humble, beliefs that are precious to us because they gave us strength at a difficult time. We may feel too tender to risk that even our closest friends could challenge or ridicule our beliefs.
If you are willing to talk about things that touch you at your core, you might be able to change the whole tone of a conversation. You could find that some of the people with whom you now exchange small talk would be willing to have a more substantive conversation. I was surprised when a visitor to our church told me that he did not experience our coffee hour as a place where people talked about important theological, philosophical ethical or scientific topics. I realized that even at our own church we sometimes keep the conversation light and superficial rather than risk sharing our truth. Let me suggest that guiding a conversation to this deeper level is one kind of evangelizing. Another more traditional sense of that word would be to actually talk about your church to your friends and neighbors, to say some things you like about it when appropriate. Not for the purpose of changing someone else, just for the purpose of telling the truth of your own experience.
The history of Universalism has a significant lesson for us here. The Universalist message was mostly spread by circuit riders, powerful and persuasive preachers that rode from town to town speaking to tent meetings, telling of the universal love of God, and the primacy of god's love over the threat of damnation. The message was so needed and powerfully spread that all of the liberal protestant churches now share this idea that god's love is available to all people, not just a select few. Unfortunately, the Universalists spent very little energy on building up their communities, and so when the circuit riders left town, the Universalists would join a Congregationalist or Methodist church. This saving idea became part of the very fabric of society, but the church who pioneered this good news shrunk to a fraction of its original size.
Perhaps there is a middle ground between proselytizing and self censorship. A statement like "I went to the Palo Alto Unitarian Universalist church last week, and heard a really interesting reflection" if this is your truth. Research at a local and national level finds again and again, that thousands of dollars spent on advertising brings maybe 1% of visitors to our door. The most powerful impetuous has always been and is still word of mouth.
Throughout my growing up years, I often went to church, or meeting, or Synagogue with my friends. It was reassuring to go to a strange new place under the sheltering wing of friendship. I have great memories of time spent in class or worship with my friends. None of them ever did convert me, but I know that my religious experience is so much deeper for these experiences.
This leads me to another principle; a sense of mission that feels comfortable to me is not attached to outcome, not attached to the conversion of an individual from one set of ideas to my own, or to membership in this religious community. Some churches will not commit their energy to a campus ministry, because they know it will never pay for itself. The college years are not typically a time when one serves on a church board or acts as a steward in the way some of our older members do. Yet we know the college years are a time of shifting ideas, and questioning. What better service could we offer than to support young adults through such a transition. We know many of the undergraduates who we meet here in this community will move away. Only a very small percentage would likely become long-time members of this church. But we love them and support them as best we can knowing they are the future of our movement. Some will become members of other UU churches far away, others will find a religious home in another tradition. But as these young adults grow into the leaders of our country and the world, any support we give them will ripple into the world in unseen ways.
Men and women who are seeking regularly meet with me as a minister of this church. They want to know who we are, but more they want help finding their way through a spiritual transition or crisis of identity. I tell them as best I can who we are, and what gifts and saving news we have to offer, as I listen carefully, asking questions to help them see where their own path is taking them, even if that path is taking them away from our church.
Whenever we slip into the trap of approaching newcomers, strangers with an idea of what we need from them, it colors their experience of us, and ours of them. Of course we want to be warmly welcoming and hospitable to all those who come into our lives. We want to make our church an inviting place. Hospitality is another important principle in our missiology. We want the path to membership to be clear, and to help people know "this is my people" if indeed that is the case. But let us welcome the traveler as well as those who come to stay. It is sad to see someone leave this community after only a short time, but we should welcome such people as heartily, and share with them as deeply. They may have some wonderful insight to share with us before they go, or we some saving balm that will ease their travels to their final destination.
So this is a first attempt at articulating my own missiology, my study of how we are with our neighbors, how we as a faith reach out into the larger world. Its principles are: living and witnessing our values in the world, listening to those we meet, speaking our own truth, letting go of outcomes and a radical hospitality to stranger and friend. Beneath all these is a desire to serve, and the knowledge that we have as much power to save souls as any faith tradition. What is your missiology? What grounds your religious reaching out? I hope you will share it with me and with one another. And more, I hope you will risk sharing whatever good news you may find with a world that dearly needs our love.
Dictionary Definition
Main Entry: mis-si-ol-o-gy
Pronunciation: "mi-sE-'ä-l&-jE
Function: noun
Etymology: mission + -logy
: the study of the church's mission especially with respect to missionary activity
Main Entry: mis-sion
Pronunciation: 'mi-sh&n
Function: noun
Etymology: New Latin, Medieval Latin, & Latin; New Latin mission-, missio religious mission, from Medieval Latin, task assigned, from Latin, act of sending, from mittere to send
1 obsolete : the act or an instance of sending
2 a : a ministry commissioned by a religious organization to propagate its faith or carry on humanitarian work b : assignment to or work in a field of missionary enterprise c (1) : a mission establishment (2) : a local church or parish dependent on a larger religious organization for direction or financial support d plural : organized missionary work e : a course of sermons and services given to convert the unchurched or quicken Christian faith
3 : a body of persons sent to perform a service or carry on an activity: as a : a group sent to a foreign country to conduct diplomatic or political negotiations b : a permanent embassy or legation c : a team of specialists or cultural leaders sent to a foreign country
What is your reaction to this sermon? Please send comments to Reverend Darcey Laine