The Power (and the Work) of We
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
June 30, 2019
“We the people…”
“We the people, in order to form a more perfect Union…”
“We hold these truths to be self-evident…”
Our nation’s birthday approaches. If we count our age from the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, we will be 242 years old this week. We celebrate, for we have much to celebrate. And we take stock, for the work of forming a more perfect Union is not finished, will never be finished. But when we look back at our foundational documents: our national mission statement, the Declaration, and our Constitution, we keep seeing that vital word, “We.” “We, the people.” “We hold these truths…”
Over the years, the vision of who is included in that We has been expanding. It’s been slow. At times it feels, especially lately, as though the We is actually contracting, growing smaller. Our work this week is to stop and notice, amidst the parades and fireworks and bonfires, the beer and the hotdogs, and the red, white and blue everything, to stop and ask ourselves if we are living into our ideals. Are we doing all that is required of us?
Last week, there was a wonderful moment at the closing worship service at the Unitarian Universalist Association’s General Assembly. The theme of GA this year was “The Power of We”, and quietly, at the end of the service, people began to appear on the stage at the convention center. At first some of the faces were recognizable, but more and more people started appearing, mixing in with the worship leaders. People arrived on scooters. And when the music finally ended and people were still gathering on the stage, it suddenly became clear – that quietly, people of color and people of other marginalized identities had been invited to come up onto the stage. I had noticed ushers walking around looking at everyone, but didn’t know why.
After the service, I had lunch with some old friends from my Lexington days. One woman is Puerto Rican and one is Chinese American. They had been invited on stage. My friend Sally ended up standing right next to the Reverend Bill Sinkford, the former president of the UUA. Her smile in sharing this, and her spouse’s pride in showing the photo he had captured on his cell phone, spoke volumes. Sally has attended GA for many, many years, just quietly showing up and attending workshops. And suddenly she was noticed – she was seen – and called up on stage.
At General Assembly we talked for days about what we mean by The Power of We. We had to begin, quite honestly, by figuring out who ‘we’ really is. Because much like our beloved country, our faith tradition is having to expand its vision about who we are, and how we live into the aspirational words that we claim. We Unitarian Universalists set a high bar for ourselves, much as our founders did back in 1776. Let’s think about our UU principles: we promote the inherent worth and dignity of all people. We promote justice, equity and compassion for all. And we believe that we are all part of the interdependent web of existence. If we look carefully at our principles, we are being asked to create a very, very broad vision of who ‘we’ are: essentially the entire planet. And possibly beyond.
As Americans we struggle to live into our vision, that one that states that all are created equal. And as Unitarian Universalists we struggle as well. We have historically been an elite and overwhelmingly European American tradition, and more conservative in many ways than we like to admit. For example, as with most religious traditions, it has only been the past 30 years or so that women have been welcomed into the ministry. Once that barrier was removed (and our ministers are now over 50% female-identified) we have been called to embrace very new and different ministries. I hadn’t attended General Assembly in a couple of years and I was very struck by the difference. Since the hiring controversies that erupted in 2017, the UUA has been working very intentionally and very hard to be more inclusive, to be much more diverse in our hiring, and to center the voices of people of color and of non-binary people. We make space for people of different abilities. The difference is readily visible. People who weren’t always sure that they were included in “We” are actively participating. They tell us, over and over, that this is their tradition too, that discovering Unitarian Universalism saved them with its message of worthiness and love for all. They believed us and our message, and now are urging us forward to fully live into our aspirational words. They are holding us accountable. They tell us, “We want to be here. Make space for us. Don’t talk so much. Listen.” This process of broadening our definition of “We” is not smooth and easy. There was conflict – words hurtful to some. That is why, in that moment at the very end when people flooded the stage, there was a sense of transcendence. It was beautiful.
I’m going to offer up a confession here: ministers can be challenged by these demands just as much as anyone. I found, for example, that I had to let go of my own biases about how religious professionals should look. Some of my newer colleagues have piercings, tattoos, and rainbow-striped hair. I had to remind myself that until fairly recently there would have been plenty of people who wouldn’t have thought that I look like a minister either. No three-piece suit, no necktie, no wing tip shoes. Like the people, the dress code must evolve, and so must we all: we must grow and open ourselves to this larger vision of We. I worked to be really honest with myself, to listen to my thinking, and then remind myself that people once expanded their vision to see people like me as ministers. It is my work to learn to be more welcoming, to create space with love.
The ministers, like many of us, know that the power of ‘we’ is much greater the larger the We is. Instinctively we know that; every religious tradition teaches us to welcome the stranger, to make a place at the table, to invite people onto the stage. And yet, things look and feel different, and that can be uncomfortable for anyone. For me, some struggle and confusion took place following a much-loved tradition. During the annual Ministry Days conference that precedes General Assembly, the ministers gather for a worship service that features two sermons: the first by someone honored for serving 25 years in ministry and the second by someone who has served for 50 years. It’s an honor to be asked, and always interesting to hear the preachers’ stories. But this year, some thoughts were expressed – outmoded words and ideas – that unintentionally harmed people from some of the more marginalized groups. They shared their hurt. I found myself struggling on the one hand to celebrate the older colleagues who have experienced so much and who have so much wisdom to share, and struggling on the other hand to listen and to understand what newer colleagues were feeling and expressing. I worked hard to stay open, and curious, as we have talked about so much this spring.
It is hard work, to stay in the middle of this kind of rapid change, to hold the various opinions and feelings and tensions. It is messy and awkward and uncomfortable, this work of We. Our understanding of the power of We is instinctive, and for many of us, intellectual. We know that we are stronger together, that our shrinking, overheating planet requires us to come together as one global community. We know that Unitarian Universalism will be strengthened by a variety of voices speaking their truths, to help us create the world, the Beloved Community, we so desire. We understand the power of We. But our understanding of the work of We develops more slowly. The work of We means staying present, staying proximate, and listening more than we speak. It means accepting that we will make mistakes, and we will unintentionally say things that can be hurtful. It means being able and willing to apologize. I was reminded this past week just how hard this is. And yet, without doing the work, we will never live fully into our power: the power to foster change, the power to create the Beloved Community, the kingdom of heaven on earth, the more perfect Union, that we aspire to bring into fruition. This work of We is holy work, religious work. It is what religious people are called to do. It is especially what Universalists are called to do.
Our lives these days are something of a swirl of change and tension. We are forced to watch and respond to different and opposing trends all at the same time. We wonder, “Is the arc of the universe bending toward justice, or not?” Our administration is attempting to roll back the clock to some fondly remembered past where white voices ruled without question. We see the result: the dehumanizing treatment of poor people, people of color, children. Children.
At the same time, we experience the excitement of seeing people of color and people of different abilities and non-binary people flooding the stage of a convention center. And this past week we watched as 20 candidates for president took the stage, among them five people of color, six women, and one gay man. Regardless of the outcome, this is a dramatic change in our understanding of We. We witnessed the messiness of the work, as two candidates grappled with racism. But all those new voices on stage this past week expanded our vision of who We are and showed us the power possible in the future. And I’ll give you a little bit of work to do: ask yourself – who did you think looked like a president?
In the midst of this conversation about who is welcomed, who gets to be on the stage, we are also commemorating an anniversary. This week marked the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, an uprising triggered by the police raid of the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village in Manhattan. The modern LGBTQ movement was born in that time, and this month, as we do each June, we celebrate Pride with parades, and here in Gloucester, the raising of the rainbow and trans flags. And yet 50 years later, we continue to have to work to fully embrace and welcome the LGBTQ community onto the stage – fully 30 states still have discriminatory laws against this community on their books. Much like we do on the Fourth of July, we celebrate on the one hand, and we take stock of how much work continues to need to be done on the other hand. We stay in the messy middle, listening, and doing the holy and religious work of We.
I came upon a reading this week that helped me with my own work of expanding my vision of We. This opened my heart and I offer it here in closing. It is by a United Church of Christ colleague, the Reverend Lori Walke:
Gracious God,
Is it the glitter? Some people think it’s the glitter that makes the Pride parade like heaven. Pearly gates and streets of gold – surely heaven has as much glitter as a Pride parade. There’s definitely enough glitter there to make a person believe that the Pride parade is like heaven.
Some people, of course, do not think the Pride parade is like heaven. After all, who would let all these people in? Surely there’s some kind of form to fill out, one must be given clearance, and at least abide by the dress code.
Speaking of, what is the dress code for heaven? What documentation is required? Of course, this is the strongest argument that the kingdom of heaven is like the Pride Parade: all are welcome. We don’t get to decide who is in and who is out. Everybody’s in. Everybody.
Or maybe it’s that the kingdom of heaven is like the Pride Parade because it is a protest against bigotry. Against hate. Against fear. A protest against being someone you aren’t. Against the idea that only some of us are worthy. A protest against anything that does not lift up love.
That’s quite the parable, isn’t it? The kingdom of heaven is like the Pride Parade, where all are welcome and love wins. We’ll know it by the glitter. And the love. Thanks be to God. Amen. (Rev. Lori Walke, “Everybody’s In.” https://www.uua.org/worship/words/prayer/everybodys?fbclid=IwAR1nGkqV05IeXpA3mI_RChDEdroEqg7z_w-4pmC3Y0keUD0My6HKHUZQvIk)
Beloved, hold that thought, that Universalist ideal:
“We don’t get to decide who is in and who is out. Everybody’s in. Everybody.”
May it be so,
Amen.
