First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis

Rev. Kendyl Gibbons
First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis
March 14, 2004

The saying goes that the whole world is odd, except for me and thee - and even thee is a little bit odd. This is our tendency as human beings, to measure the rest of the world by the yardstick of our own ideas, and discounting all the possible oddness in ourselves, to declare the rest of the world out of kilter. There is something appealing about thinking of ourselves as a righteous minority - the saving remnant, as the tradition of the Hebrew scriptures had it - and assuming that only our group has got it right. Then, as soon as you accept this idea, as soon as you think that only your own nation, your own tribe, your own family, your own church, your own party, knows what's really going on in the world, and how things ought to be, you start looking for signs of leakage, or wavering, within that group. Who is unpatriotic? Who likes what they shouldn't like, who looks at the world a little differently than what you know is the right way? Who is a heretic? Who thinks what they shouldn't be thinking? And as soon as you start being watchful for this sort of defection, lo and behold, you will find it. People being the diverse and unique creatures that they are, eventually someone is going to deviate in some way from the group's consensus, and you will be obligated to Do Something - cast out the infidel! After that you feel safe, for a while, until the process begins all over again. The standards of identity get increasingly narrow and rigid, as more and more people are discovered not to measure up. The tighter the standards, the smaller and more stifling the community, until you reach the point where only me and thee are left, each watching the other suspiciously for that hidden taint of oddity, while the original purpose and dreams of the group lie helplessly smothered by the quest for righteousness. Don't be complacent, just because you're here; this process happens in liberal groups as easily as in orthodox or conservative ones; it is the threat of what is meant pejoratively by political correctness. And believe me, humanists can play this game as well as anyone.

The only antidote that I know to this process of creeping suspicion and self-righteousness is a culture of deliberate generosity, in which more time is spent realizing the visions and hopes of the group, than in determining who is in it or out of it. As we enter into what we have designated as our Last Canvass here at FUS, I find myself reflecting on the meaning of that culture of generosity; what it is, and how we manifest it in our life together as a religious community. Let me start by telling you a story.

Several weeks ago, early in the year, I walked into the office one morning to find a member of our community, shaken and tearful, asking to see someone on the staff. A difficult family crisis had left her confused, upset, not understanding herself or her loved ones, uncertain how to move forward, in search of comfort, hope, and help. There are several of you who may think this is your story; it is actually a composite; it might have been, or might yet be, anyone in this room. These fraught and tender moments can be a minister's clearest purpose; all the other busy-ness melts away, and we are there, together, just the two of us, confronting the painful, soul-searching questions, the loss that has no answer, the impossible demands of integrity, love, self-sacrifice, identity. Of course, nothing I said changed the real dilemma that she faced that day, but somehow in the hour that we spent together, she gathered up her own courage and clarity and faith, and went away able to confront the demands of life with strength of spirit equal to what lay before her. As for me, I came away profoundly moved, as I always am, by the power of the human spirit to find hope and healing in the midst of our most wrenching pain. And I was also aware of a great thankfulness, that in her moment of blind need, this was the place she came to; this was the place that drew her with a promise of safety and comfort and help. It wasn't a rational, considered process of thought that brought her here that morning, but something instinctive; a trust that I alone had not earned, but that was created by all of us, by who and what we are together, the community of value and of generosity that we have built in this place. I certainly didn't quiz her about her theology, as I set out the box of kleenex and prepared to receive the old story of brokeness that is always new. I only offered the care that I had to give; the care that your care enables me to provided; the generosity of this community in the tangible form of words of comfort, and time. For in that moment of need, there is no quibble about budgets or programs, or who is humanist enough to belong here, or what vocabulary of reverence we should or shouldn't be using. It is the generosity of spirit which informs that moment and makes it possible, that I would wish also to inform our decision making this morning, as we gather to commit ourselves to provide the financial resources that make possible this place and all our work of ministry here.

One reason why the fundamentalists, whether they are Christians or Muslims or new age cults, seem to get so far ahead of us sometimes, is that they have discovered the power and the thrill of generosity. Religious liberals like to tell ourselves that orthodox believers support their churches better than we support ours because they think they are giving their money to God - buying their way out of hell, and into heaven. This theory insults the intelligence and motivation of many good people and many fine churches that I know. It is true, statistically, that almost all denominations as well as independent churches are better supported as a percentage of their members' collective incomes, than Unitarian Universalist congregations are, this one included. But I don't think that's because their donors are buying salvation insurance. There are two reasons that I think are a much more accurate explanation.

First of all, many orthodox and fundamentalist churches have discovered the thrill of generosity; they know from experience that giving money to the places we cherish just feels good. This is true even when it's nothing more than a face and voice on a TV screen asking for contributions; it still feels good to give. This is why every human culture offers some custom of charity, endowment, or memorial gifts in honor of those who have died; the satisfaction of being generous brings comfort, and helps us to manage our grief and feel a little better after a painful loss. I suspect that this experience of pleasure, power, and satisfaction in giving is actually hard-wired into the structure of our limbic systems. It is a function of the same pleasure that all social mammals feel when they participate in exchanges of food or grooming or other kinds of care that contribute to the well-being of the group, or tribe, or community. Such generous acts, especially when they are not immediately reciprocated, help to cement long term relationships, to make the whole community a safe and nurturing place for all its members. We are designed to find such behavior intrinsically rewarding. It's not about heaven later; that's just a story. It's about increasing the satisfaction of our lives here and now. Ask anyone who made what was for them a significant gift to Housing Humanism, or to the Out of the Hole campaign. For sure ask Roger Clemence or Susan Barton, who had the pleasure of enabling people to make those gifts; they are both so full of good feelings from the process that they practically glow in the dark these days!

In the second place, members of generously supported churches have come to understand that healthy, vibrant institutions make the values that they represent, and want to teach, credible to the rest of the world. It was our own Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, "What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say." The community that we create together - our buildings, our staff, our programs, our welcome to visitors, and our support of one another - these say more about our humanist values than a hundred sermons or mission statements ever could. Because when you really believe in something, you want to make it real, to give it form in the world, to put it to work, and you want it to succeed. What we build together that is enduring speaks most loudly of all about our way of being religious together.

Millions of people in this country - thousands in this city - don't know what to think about religion, about life, about values, about their hunger for meaning and things of the spirit. When they look around them for help with these questions and curiosities, they are going to be more likely to listen to and to trust the message from a group of people that seems to be happy, that seems to have its act together. After all, who do you want advice in life from? People who are successful, right? People who have solid relationships, who seem comfortable and responsible, who have made good choices, and are seen to have a positive impact on the world. This is what we need to show to our city, and these seekers; they need to see in us people who have discovered the thrill of generosity, and who believe in our message so strongly that we invest our time and talent and money eagerly to make our religious community competent, vibrant, accessible, and beautiful.

Over the past several years, we have proven that this First Unitarian Society of ours is capable of doing all these things. We have seen the power of our collective generosity to restore the beauty and integrity of this landmark building - putting on a new roof, giving our faithful heating plant the maintenance it needs, making this fabulous view a point of pride. It gives me such joy to invite visitors and potential wedding couples and colleagues to walk into this room, and experience our visual connection to the city, to nature, to the open light of this world. These are humanist values expressed in glass and steel; the architecture of our faith. Moreover, we have enabled ourselves to experience the thrill of generosity as a church community, by preparing to make a gift of $25,000 to our neighbors in need of affordable housing. Minneapolis will be a better, more just and caring place, because we helped to make it that way. This, too, shows our humanist values at work. We have overcome a series of financial set-backs, including a costly legal settlement, and a breath-taking increase in the cost of heating fuel during the past two years. We are poised at the threshold of a new era, ready to inspire growth and commitment, to connect to one another, to deepen our understanding and well-being, to learn with each other, and to change lives, minds, and the world, all in ways that embody and demonstrate the true meaning of humanism.

There are, as your canvass materials demonstrate, several elements in the board's ambitious goals for the next three years. We need to increase our reserve fund to a responsible level. We need to adjust to rising heating fuel costs, and to find a part-time staff person to oversee the use and care of our fine building. We need to get back into the habit of responsibly supporting our District and UUA connections. We need to give our Music and Sunday Programs some money to work with, and we need to keep our support of social activism in this city and the wider world strong.

Friends, we don't have the luxury of sitting around and complaining about what other people believe, or do. We cannot afford to be suspicious or judgmental or exclusionary; we can't narrow our boundaries down to me and thee, and even thee a bit questionable.... We need to work together to discover the thrill of generosity ourselves, not envy and disparage others; we have our own children to nurture, our own institution to create, our own example to set, our own ministry to do in our times. We are called to use the gifts of our lives to build the common good of community, and to make our own days glad with the deep satisfaction of giving to what we believe in. The generosity with which we invest in the vitality and ministry of this society makes a resource not only for ourselves, but for the seeking and the broken among both those whom we love, and those we may never know. It gives flesh and blood to our values, to prove their power by ennobling the world and informing our future. Let us begin the process of commitment by singing together, 128.