This is my annual Sermon on the Amount - one of the great challenges of preaching - the Canvass Sermon. I've done somewhere between 25 and 30 of them. How to say, year after year, what this church means to me and to us? How to say we ought to support it as generously as we are able? How to tell of experiences that make this congregation indispensable in our lives?
This year's Canvass Committee has invited you to write about what this church means to you - to share an experience which symbolizes the caring nature of our church. When it witnessed to Unitarian Universalist values in the community. When you were inspired by worshipping here. When you experienced a "teachable moment".
We'll collect all of them in a volume which will be available to you. They will make you laugh and cry and most importantly, make you proud to be a part of this religious community.
Our Canvass theme this year comes from our movement's "signature song," Spirit of Life, written by Unitarian Universalist musician and activist Carolyn McDade. My wife Joyce heard this designation from a Mennonite who was a clinician at the annual conference of the Unitarian Universalist Musicians Network of which Joyce is President. He said every religious movement has a "signature song" which virtually everyone knows by heart; it speaks across theological divides; it embraces commitment to a deep spirituality informing our work for social justice. It celebrates our history and emboldens us to fashion a future. What more could we ask of a single song? It is about roots that hold us close and wings that set us free.
Because we are a "chosen" movement in which people have deliberately joined this faith community instead of the one in which they grew up, I'm afraid we know too little of the history in which we are rooted.
A 3rd century church father, Origin, upset the theological apple cart when he proclaimed what would later be called by our Universalist forbears universal salvation. He believed that a loving God would not consign some to hell and promote others to heaven, but would ultimately restore all to a state of blessedness.
I suspect not many realized the concept of "unitarianism," for example, goes back to the debate at the Christian Council of Nicea in 325 of the Common Era where a church father named Arius argued that God and Jesus were separate - God divine, and Jesus human. He lost that argument and was exiled, setting the stage for other debates which eventuated in the Trinity. Still later Michael Servetus, a Roman Catholic Spanish doctor, challenged the great Protestant reformer John Calvin - claiming that the bible did not support the concept of the trinity. It is found in only one place, that inserted after the Church had officially adopted the Trinity. For this heresy Servetus was burned at the stake in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1553.
So when we talk about our rootedness, we know that our precious religious liberty was no casual thing. It was purchased by the lives and deaths of many who have gone before. We cannot, must not, take this for granted.
Unitarianism and Universalism developed rapidly in the United States. Here, freedom of religion created the rich soil in which these two heretical movements took root. These two belief systems began to take institutional form which required - of all things - money.
Hear Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of our great Unitarian pioneers, speak of what it can and ought to do. "Money, which represents the prose of life, and which is hardly spoken of in parlors without an apology, is, in its effects and laws, as beautiful as roses."
The Universalists, too, had caught on that churches as institutions do not flourish only because they promote a good idea. They require resources like any other institution if they are to root people in loyalty and project those ideas into the wider community. In attempting to raise money for its missionary activity in 1866 the Universalist Committees of Correspondence was far from subtle in making its fund appeal. "We are sure of your sympathy and your prayers, but we want also your money."[1]
Universalist minister Olympia Brown was the first woman to be ordained by a religious denomination in this country, the St. Lawrence Association in 1863. One Sunday she was preaching in the Universalist Church of Bridgeport, Connecticut, in which worshipped one Phineas T. Barnum. It was Canvass Sunday and she asked for more money - from him personally. History does not record his response. We don't do it quite that way, but we do ask you for a pledge - and unlike Olympia Brown - we don't just ask for more money, we ask you to consult our Recipe for Giving, which the Gilbert family and many others take very seriously.
But we do not have to go so far afield to appreciate our roots. You may remember the very effective ad we placed on public radio 1370 AM for several weeks a few years ago: This program "...brought to you in part by the First Unitarian Church in Rochester, since 1829 working to further spiritual growth and social justice in Rochester." This "soundbite" is echoed in our 2001-2002 Canvass, "Roots Hold Me Close; Wings Set Me Free."
We have come a long way since a small band of people gathered on March 16, 1829, and called the Rev. James D. Green as its minister. We are part of a living tradition that has included the Rev. Newton Mann, first American minister to preach evolution from the pulpit; Susan B. Anthony, peerless leader for human rights; and David Rhys Williams, whose thunderous voice and charismatic presence also helped us gain a reputation as "Rochester's alert conscience and hospitable roof."
A tradition cannot simply be inherited; it must be earned anew by each new generation. That thought has been in our mind as we have planned this year's Canvass. We want to be sure to celebrate what we have together accomplished, both in the distant and the recent past. However, we want also to assure an equally meaningful future. Your generous support of our church in this annual Canvas will help us do both.
We trust you will experience the joy of giving as you consider your investment in the future of our congregation. Pledging is no onerous duty, but really a happy privilege. Our Canvass Chair has told our Committee that, unlike many checks she writes, she enjoys writing her church pledge check because she knows the good things that will come of it.
I think of a Zen Buddhist story that underscores the point: "While Seisetsu was the master of Engaku in Kmakara he required larger quarters, since those in which he was teaching were over-crowded. Umezu Seibei, a merchant of Edo, decided to donate five hundred pieces of gold called ryo toward the construction of a more commodious school. This money he brought to the teacher. Seisetsu said: "All right. I will take it."
Umezu gave Seisetsu the sack of gold, but he was dissatisfied with the attitude of the teacher. One might live a whole year on three ryo, and the merchant had not even been thanked for five hundred.
"In that sack are five hundred ryo," hinted Umezu.
"You told me that before," replied Seisetsu.
"Even if I am a wealthy merchant, five-hundred ryo is a lot of money," said Umezu.
"Do you want me to thank you for it?" asked Seisetsu.
"You ought to," replied Umezu.
"Why should I?" inquired Seisetsu. "The giver should be thankful."[2] Now, don't take this story too literally. We of the Canvass Committee, we of the staff, do thank you in advance and will thank you after you have made your generous pledge. But there is a sense in which the "giver should be thankful" to be beneficiary of the rootedness of this historic faith and the freedom to fly spiritually and morally.
And, speaking of flying - "wings set me free," there is an image that suggests how this congregation enables us to fly. As we eagerly prepare ourselves for an evasive spring - just 17 days away according to the calendar - we might ponder these words. Their connection to our canvass and our church scarcely needs to be explicated.
When you see the geese flying north in "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered about why they fly that way. As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an uplift for the bird immediately following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds at least 71% more flying range than would be possible if each bird flew on its own.
People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are travelling on the thrust of one another.
When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of having to go it alone and quickly gets back in formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front. If we have as much sense as a goose, we will stay in formation with those who are headed the same way.
When the head goose gets tired, it rotates back in the wing and another goose flies point. It is sensible to take turns doing demanding jobs, whether with people or geese flying. That is the partnership way.
Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. It can get pretty loud.
Finally - and this is important - when a goose gets sick or tired and falls out of formation, two other geese fall out with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies. Only then do they launch out on their own or with another formation to catch up with their group. If we have the sense of the geese, we will stand by each other like that.
Admittedly, it is hard for Unitarian Universalists to "stay in formation." However, at Canvass time we need to exert individual effort for the good of the whole. We need each of us to do our financial part to keep the flock flying toward the future. Some of our lead geese have retired or lost their jobs. We need new geese to take their place. We at the front of the flock, trying to give leadership, need not only your honking - we need your generous pledges. Honk, if you care. Better yet, if you care, pledge generously.
As Annie Dillard puts it so poetically: "The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff."
I have argued that the Canvass is our church's most important program. Stewardship is our sine qua non. Why? Canvass is the term we use for our annual financial commitment to the church as members and friends. The Sunday offering provides less than 2% of our budget. If we relied on our Sunday collection, we'd close down tomorrow. If we relied on our endowment, we would last maybe two years if we were careful. Financial commitments through pledges - moral commitments to give a certain amount over the course of a year - are our life-blood - providing over 80% of our budget. Without that, folks, we're toast!
While Mormons give 7.2% of their income to the church, Catholics give 1.1%, and Protestants range in between, Unitarian Universalists give .8%. Do we take our faith less seriously than our religious neighbors? The greatest threat to the survival of Unitarian Universalism is lack of commitment - and financial commitment is one of its chief measures. One of the main sources of feedback to how well we are doing is the canvass. So, canvass is not merely about raising money to pay the bills - it is our most important program for measuring how seriously we take our religious faith.
But I promised that you would participate in the creation of this sermon - that I would use your responses to our question - what does the church mean to you? - in this sermon on the amount.
You have heard two of those statements this morning and throughout March you will hear more - the only way you can hear all of those chosen for presentation is to attend church every Sunday and to attend both our Canvass Tea Friday, March 9, and our Canvass Dinner, Friday, March 16. Their variety is amazing - all the way from "What's this church mean to you?" EVERYTHING! printed in gorgeous multi-colors on a new printer
to doggerel verse by some of our poets laureate;
to a canvass hymn set to the song, "Spirit of Life";
to serious essays about the meaning of Unitarian Universalism; to incidents in which our congregation made a significant difference in the life of the person writing;
To a song about "Coming Home" to this place;
To an interpretation of "roots hold me close, wings set me free";
To a letter to Mom and Dad and the church as family;
To a family that came first because of geographic proximity and now that they have moved further away, because they want to be at what one of them calls his "moral club" and who wonder if we appreciate the talent that Helena and Elizabeth bring to the religious education program;
To a youth who said of the 35 who come to youth group - some of them come to be with their old friends, some to meet new friends, and some for the Krispy Kreme donuts;
To one long-time member who speaks about the fusion of values, beauty and wisdom - all of which can be found in one place - here;
To one who overcame her fear of public speaking here at this pulpit; To one fifth generation Unitarian Universalist who wished to remain anonymous but simply feels accepted here;
To one who felt welcomed when the President of the Congregation not only called her when she first came, but came to visit her in Scottsville;
To one who remembers my critical Rundell Library review of then- University of Rochester President Dennis O'Brien's book which argued against church involvement in society;
To one who appreciates that here her mistakes will be forgotten and she won't stand out in the crowd;
To one who remembers as a child hosting the architect of this church, Louis Kahn, in her home; and teaching her son to ski on the hill in back of the church building; and scattering her father's ashes down the slope in our Memorial Garden.
To her mother who thinks of this as a religion too strong for words and remembers that she has come to this building in which her husband had such a vital role forty years ago;
To her late husband whose posthumous and eloquent words sound as if he were involved in our canvass, responding to the meaning of this church and its people for him - and for us; as if he understood our theme - roots hold me close; winds set me free:
"We celebrate this bursting morning the freer flight of spirit in a building balanced to serve the needs of all our people.
We celebrate the anticipation of even more jubilant and reverent expression in honest space and light.
We celebrate the warming promise of the hearth -
The discovery in windows that let us look from inside in -
The great gallery doors -
The wonderfully expressive brick arches.
We praise the very process of architectural conception,
of lay participation,
of skillful building,
yes of stretching to pay.
The stretching leaves us richer.
Our commitment is deep."
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