Rappin’ With The Rev
Given by James Covington on December 2nd, 2007
Rappin’ with the Rev!
I guess you’re wondering
Why we call it that.
‘Cause for a UU preacher,
anything to give it zap!
We’ll talk about mission, ministry and vision,
And anything else, presented with good intention.
So come rap with the revy but don’t be a heavy
Drivin’ you chevy to the levy!
Just give him your wisest attention!
Well, I am obviously no rap artist, but there you are. Do I have your attention? After the services today, you are invited to meet with me to share your own vision of how we can better serve. This will be the first of a series of meetings over the next several months, where you will be given an opportunity to talk with me about whatever most concerns you or ignites you or inspires you the ministry of our congregation. It’s not meant to be a meeting for complaining, although I certainly do want to hear your concerns.
I once heard the story about a congregation that had a particularly interesting telephone answering message. When someone called the church, he would hear the following message: Welcome to the All Souls UU Church. If you’re calling from a touch-tone phone and would like membership information, press one. For our service schedule, press two. To complain to the minister, press three. To complain about the minister, press four, five, six or seven.
Hmmmn. This message does not indicate a healthy minister partnership.
So what I hope to do now is to set our minds for this meeting with the minister. I want to talk about our shared ministry, what it is, why it’s important, and even why we come here in the first place.
Let’s start with that one. Why are we here? One of the questions I frequently ask myself is “why do I affiliate with a religious institution?” Is it just because I get paid? What’s more, most of my friends and colleagues back in the city never attend any religious institution.
Except for a few years in my late twenties and early thirties, I have always been an active member of a religious congregation. I grew up that way. Hardly ever missed a Sunday in church. There are lots of reasons for that, one being that there was nothing else to do in my small southern town. Everybody went to church. There are other reasons, some healthy and some not so healthy, but overall, I believe I’ve always had a need to associate myself with people in a religious institution that nurtures the quest for the depths of meaning, moral discernment and a purposeful life. I can do that alone to an extent, but I also prefer a community with whom I can share the quest.
Religion is the human response to the dual reality of being alive and knowing that I shall die. Out of that conundrum, is born the quest for meaning and purpose–the religious impulse. We are not just the animal with tools or the animal with advanced language. We are the religious animal. Knowing we are going to die, we question what life means. Who am I? What is my origin? The purpose of life? Am I my brother’s keeper? To whom am I responsible?
These are the questions that strike the depths. They are religious questions. We try to make sense of all we see, think and feel. Though people may reject it as a false science, for me, theology is instead the highest form of poetry–language that strikes the depths. Here, with you, I am able to ponder the questions, process them with you, and find support along the way. That’s just who I am. Not everyone needs to find a place to nurture the spirit as I do. But many do. In the theater there is something called a “through line.” It connects the themes from one act to another and gives shape and meaning to the whole play. My through line in the theater of my own life, is love and death. We must live and love our lives in such a way that they will prove worth dying for.
People do not go to church these days because it is the respectable thing to do, nor do they necessarily go to the church of their parents. Yet many do look for depth and connection with nature and community –a depth that consumer culture fails so miserably to satisfy and which conventional religion has failed to address. They may practice Buddhist meditation, they may have a Roman Catholic spiritual director, they may go on a trek in the Himalayas, or belong to a 12 step group; People are searching because the void at the center is just too painful–and the set answers, the easy answers just won’t do anymore. Yet, the propensity to faith appears to be a profound part of human existence.”
These are undeniably ragged times, and they promise to become even more so. As pointed out in a recent issue of The Economist, titled The New Wars of Religion, religion in the 21st century has not become a marginal element in public life. In the 21st century, religion is playing a central role. From Nigeria to Sri Lanka from Chechnya to Baghdad, people have been slain in God’s name.
Once again, one of the world’s great religions has a bloody divide. (This time it is Sunnis and Shias, instead of Catholics and Protestants.) And once again religious and political zealotry seems all too relevant to foreign policy, both in the U.S. and the rest of the world.
The Economist cites one historian of religion who “claims that when historians look back at this century, they will probably see religion as the “the prime animating and destructive force in human affairs.”
Many people today have abandoned organized religion for precisely this reason. In manifold ways, religion contributes to the raggedness of our lives and our world. What these people often discover, however, is that life apart from a community of faith can be meager and lonely. It’s hard to develop a sense of purpose larger than your own success, or a sense of community beyond your immediate friends and colleagues.
So, what kind of church could spin out a new fabric of belonging and help to heal our ragged world? For me, it would be one that insists all humanity comes from the same source and shares the same destiny. It would be one that experiences God as the unifying presence that holds us together and the directive presence that urges us toward greater truth and goodness. It would be one that acknowledges that we are utterly dependent upon the people and world around us, and therefore are morally responsible for their well-being. It would be one that believes in mystery, but not in magic, one that believes reason is a source of revelation, not its opposite.
As I say those words, I am thinking of us. If there is a religious message the world needs today, a message of hope and reconciliation, I certainly believe Unitarian Universalists can and should offer that message. As ministers of a universal faith, it is our calling to heal the brokenness and restore the faith of those who gather here for worship each week. Because here we will give voice to our deepest longings and highest aspirations. We will nurture our souls, educate our children and nurture their spiritual nature, and reach out to those in need.
What do you think? Do my words resonate with your own longing? What brings you here? I am sure your reasons vary. I know that many of you come here for the sense of community or belonging. It’s a good experience to be with people with whom you feel you can connect and generally share the same world view, and work together to make a difference in the world. That world view was the principle reason I became a Unitarian Universalist. The principles we have adopted as our world view are ones that resonated with those I had already formulated for myself.
Others come for the spiritual nurturing. Somebody said to me recently that she cries sometimes during worship. I’ve heard others say the same, over the years. Hopefully, people feel safe here to bring all of themselves to the experience. To laugh, to wonder, to question, to cry, to act. Is there a single person here who is not carrying some burden, with no place to put it down? Some dream that has vanished as you reached for it? Some loss that is too deep to speak of? If nothing, else, reading the morning news makes us grieve for our world. People are attracted to this community, or to any community, because of the way they see people relating to one another and how we view the world and act in the world. Or people begin to leave.
We are not a social club. We are not a political organization or new age movement or an ethical society. We are a religious community.
What is the common ground of the partnership that sustains me and that sustains you in this religious community? It is a common understanding that we are together in doing the work of the Spirit, that I can’t do it alone, that you can’t do it alone, that we need one another as we do the hard work of repairing this broken world and our own broken lives. We strive to be of use. It’s really that simple. Each day my prayer is the same: “Let me do my small part in making this a better world.”
A. Powell Davies wrote: “I come to this place because I fall below my own standards and need to be constantly brought back to them. . . I must have my conscience sharpened. Because I must feel again the love I owe my fellow men and women. We meet each other as friends and neighbors anywhere and everywhere, but we seldom do so in the consciousness of our soul’s deepest yearnings. In religious community we do–in a way that. . . leaves us knowing that we all have the same yearning for hope. We are brought together at the highest level possible. WE are not merely an audience. We are a congregation. . .” with a promise: “to dwell together in peace, to seek the truth in love, and to help one another.” So that is our covenant. A covenant is a promise.
From covenant, flows mission. The question here is, “who do we exist for?” Our mission is our passion. But a mission depends upon a vision, and we know from the biblical book of Proverbs that “Where there is no vision, the people perish. Or in my revised translation: “Without vision the parish perishes. Vision is where we want to go. Mission is what we intend to do to get there. Once you have a vision, then you articulate a mission to pursue that vision. What is it that you will do? Our mission gives us the direction. Here’s our mission statement:
We are an open, inclusive, religious Fellowship, striving to build a beloved community that fosters the search for personal truth, social justice and spiritual growth.
We are committed to nurturing the connections that draw us together.
We are committed to a liberal religious education based on the respectful exchange of ideas.
And we are committed to reaching out to help build a more just and compassionate world.
That’s a pretty well defined mission and incorporates a lot of what I have been saying to you. The one phrase that stands out for me personally, however, is the phrase: Beloved Community. That does not mean we are a perfect community. Far from it. Because of our open, non-creedal approach, we attract people of very different backgrounds and faiths. We have an especially important task of welcoming all who come into these doors without projecting prejudice, bias, or contempt because of their particular race, gender, or sexual orientation. Gathered here today is an assemblage of Christians and Jews, Buddhists and agnostics, theists and humanists, atheists and deists, and a number who do not wish to be categorized. This congregation is in a sense a federation of faiths.
The way we implement these aspects and work together becomes our ministry. We are all ministers here. Ministry is not about power. It is about service. It is about being there. It’s about being with, when things can’t be fixed, no solution can be found. Ministry is about building and maintaining a strong vital institution. Ministry is about social justice and serving the common good. And ministry is about witnessing to our faith. Witnessing is not about trying to save anybody’s soul, but it is about telling other people about who we are–a free religious community, where all are welcome, where the theology arises out of your own experience and conviction and knowledge, where justice is done in this world, not in the next. If this place has affected your life, tell someone else who might be looking for this kind of faith community. That, also, is ministry.
The late rabbi, scholar and activist, Abraham Heschel once wrote that there are no adequate proofs for the existence of God; there are only witnesses. In that same vein, a French Communist once said to a Dominican theologian: “Don’t speak to me of Christianity. Just point out some Christians.” And so it is with us. We can talk all we want of vision and mission. That will help answer the questions, “Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going?” But the real answer to those questions is lived out in how we are with one another, what we do in the world and what the meaning of this life is for you and me. In the words of Mahatma Ghandi: “We have to be what we want to see in the world.”
I look forward to beginning a conversation with all of you about who we want to be.