This I Believe

This summer our members are sharing a series of “This I believe” messages with the congregation. On Sunday, June 20, I shared my own theological perspective.

What do you believe? As Unitarian Universalists, we share common principles regarding how we treat each other and this world. But invariably we are asked – But what do Unitarian Universalists believe? Then we try to struggle through our little speech about how we do not have a particular creed and are supportive of the search for truth and meaning that each of us undertakes, etc. Sometimes the questioner pushes further and asks – Well, what do YOU believe. Hopefully, you can respond. You may also be asked – well, what does your minister believe? I would imagine that many of you might not be able to respond to that – although you could probably guess.

I was thinking about this as I prepared this message and imagined a discussion among a group of you trying to respond to that question. In my little daydream – one of you said, “Well she quotes the Bible and Jesus a lot – and I know she spent most of her life as a Southern Baptist – so she’s probably a liberal Christian. But thankfully she doesn’t push that as the only path.” Another responds: “Oh no, I’ve been with Jane to Womenspirit and SEEN her participating fully in those pagan rituals they have up there at The Mountain. She’s a pagan all right. But she probably just doesn’t want to announce that in this group because it would turn some folks off.” Another says, “No, no – Jane’s a Buddhist. She’s always reading Buddhist literature and I’ve seen her at a local sangha’s meditation group. I think Buddhism is probably something she’s come to more recently – but she’s a Buddhist now.” A fourth said, “You all haven’t been listening to her sermons. She’s practically told us time and time again that she’s a humanist. Remember that time she dressed as John Dewey and shared his “common faith” and then another time; she said he was her hero. Dewey’s a humanist. Jane’s a humanist. She’s just one of those ‘warm, fuzzy’ humanists.”

Well – all those folks are all “sort of” right. I could probably put some claim on each of those identities because of my affinity for participation with other folks who identify in these different ways. When I was preparing for UU ministry, I did not care too much about taking on a particular theological identity. For one reason – I didn’t want others to think I was trying to convert them to my own theology. I preferred for them to see me as a minister supporting them in their own theology. So – I thought I was okay letting my theological identity remain ambiguous to others and perhaps to me. But my seminary professors and the UUA fellowship committee would not let me by with that. In course after course and in essay after essay I was asked to “articulate my theology.”

Now I did share about my theology in one of my sermons in 2006 after becoming your minister. And I haven’t really talked specifically about it again till today for our “This I Believe” series. Because – although I’m a UU evangelist – I’m not an evangelist for a particular creed or spiritual practice or belief. But I do think you should know – because in fact, my theology (or some might say it’s more of a cosmology) does support my ministry and is important in how I see the world and all of us in it.

When I first became a Unitarian Universalist, I took a survey that was supposed to help me ascertain my theological identity. The conclusion indicated that I was a humanist. Humanism entails a commitment to the search for truth and morality through human means in support of human interests. I’m not opposed to any of that! But the concept and some of the language used by many humanists was a little “too human” for me. So, I tried to modify the term by using words like “neo-humanist” in my theological essays. In any case, I never warmed up to that identity.

During summer 2002, I was introduced to “Religious Naturalism” by two of my professors, Jerry Stone and Karl Peters. Now that’s religious naturalism – not religious naturism. These folks are not folks who worship in the nude. In any case, I resonated strongly with their ideas. I wrote a paper further exploring religious naturalism that I presented here in church with a couple of friends in the fall of 2002. Chris and Laura acted out the part of these two professors in a conversation with me. Those of you who were here may remember that trialogue and may also remember that at the end of that discussion, I was moving in their direction but wasn’t quite ready to claim religious naturalism as my own identity. Since then, however, I have studied Ursala Goodenough’s book entitled The Sacred Depths of Nature, heard her speak at General Assembly in 2005, joined the UU Religious Naturalists, and attended a gathering of them at Ursala Goodenough’s home in St. Louis with others who claimed that identity.

So enough about how I got to this place. What in the world IS a religious naturalist and what does that mean for me and others in terms of how we live our lives? In sharing about religious naturalism – I’m going to be pulling and quoting from the work of my friend Bill Murray, author of Reason and Reverence, – who was the President of Meadville Lombard Theological School when I was there. (Note: All quotes in italics in this sermon are from writings by Murray unless otherwise indicated.) Murray reminds us that religious naturalism is really a revival of older ideas. The ideas themselves go back as least as far as the philosopher Spinoza, but it’s only within the last several decades that these ideas have been more widely affirmed. And it’s really only within the last decade and a half that folks have begun to organize themselves as religious naturalists – much due to the popularity of Ursala Goodenough’s work and the folks who have been gathering annually on Star Island for a week devoted to religion and science.

Religious naturalism says two things. First, it holds that the natural universe is all there is. The supernatural does not exist. Second, it maintains that there is religious meaning and value in nature.

There are two types of religious naturalism -- theistic and non-theistic. They are united in their rejection of the supernatural and their belief that there is only one realm -- the natural universe. For at least 3,000 years western religion has taught that the natural universe is transient and not ultimate, but what is real and ultimate is the supernatural. Religious naturalism says, "No, there is no supernatural realm. This natural universe is all there is."

Now some may say that religious naturalists must then all be atheists – or at least agnostics. But that’s not the case. Many say they do believe in God and those are the ones that we usually identify as “theistic” religious naturalists. But their God is not a supernatural God. This is NOT the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And - as much as I love Jesus – I must say that I do not believe the God proclaimed by theistic religious naturalists is the God of Jesus. And this is not the God of the majority of Americans.

When the vast majority of Americans say they believe in God, they have a supernatural deity in mind, a God who is thought of in popular terms as "the man upstairs," the "heavenly father,"…the deity baseball players point to when they hit a home run to give credit to something other than steroids.

The God of theistic religious naturalists is not a supernatural deity, but instead is a power or force within the natural universe. UU theologian Henry Nelson Wieman referred to God as the power of creativity. Others speak of God as the spirit of love that pervades all beings.

Now back in 2003, I asked this congregation if you could say “God” and if you could – what you meant by that term. And I found that many of you had ideas of God that were very different from most Americans. Some of you felt God was a power within each of us, or that God was creativity or that God was the goodness in all things or that God was everything. But I did not hear many folks refer to God as a supernatural creator who could punish or reward our deeds. And the fact that (whether we use the term God or not), most of us do not believe in an authoritarian deity – explains a lot about how we live our lives.

UU theologian Sharon Welch has noted that belief in an all-powerful deity leads to authoritarian institutions, including governments, because it glorifies domination. The supernatural God is also depicted as male. This results in justification for a patriarchal society and for discrimination against women, who are regarded as inferior in every way.

A naturalistic theism, on the other hand, tends to symbolize god in more feminine terms -- like Mother Nature -- and hence in more loving terms, less punitive, less judgmental, more nurturing and caring. People who believe in this kind of God tend to raise their children in a nurturing, caring environment, characterized by dialogue and cooperation. They favor a society that emphasizes peace and justice and negotiation in international matters. We human beings are symbolic animals, and I think the symbols we associate with deity make a lot of difference.

Now – though I can certainly “say God,” and I have no problem using religious language to convey ideas and feelings, I do not consider myself to be a theist – although there is probably not a hill of beans difference in what I believe and what a theistic religious naturalist believes. I translate the word God as “the power of love” and I can sing praises to that power and worship it. I DO believe in love and compassion. But I suppose if I am to be truly honest with myself and you, I think the word God is so sacred to those who do believe in a deity– that I don’t use it personally when I look to something that is greater than myself. I can use it with others and DO, just as I can use the term goddess or spirit or even Allah. I think we are all reaching for the same thing. And that is what connects us all. To me, we are all a part of nature. But if I’m forced to stick a label of theist or non-theist on me, I’ll wear the non-theist one. Personally, I don’t think it should matter that much. It’s certainly not worth fighting wars over – and that’s part of the problem I have with supernatural religion.

Religious naturalism (whether theistic or non-theistic) maintains that human beings are products of nature and natural causes. We are simply one of a prolific nature's multitudinous creations, each unique and special, and all part of one interdependent web. Naturalism also maintains that we human beings do not consist of a separate entity called mind or soul or spirit, temporarily dwelling in a physical body, but that human beings are a psycho-somatic unity. This acceptance of human mortality and transience leads religious naturalists to feel gratitude for life and a commitment to make the one life we have as meaningful and as joyful as possible.

THIS I BELIEVE!

I’m a religious naturalist because I believe in life before death.

And I love to study life! I find the work being done now with genes to be so intriguing. And it just leaves me in awe. Scientists have discovered that all living things on this planet today share a huge number of genetic ideas. Current estimates indicate that human nuclear DNA is 98.4 percent identical to chimpanzee DNA. So most of my genes are like most chimpanzee genes – and they are also like many of the genes in a mushroom. We are deeply interrelated with the rest of the living world. And the more we find out, the more intriguing and awesome it is.

But why do I say I’m a RELIGIOUS naturalist. Why not just a naturalist? What’s religious about accepting the scientific method as a viable means for understanding the world? Well, I’m going to quote from a rather well known scientist to explain that. Ursala Goodenough is Professor of Biology at Washington University in St. Louis. She is one of America’s leading cell biologists and is the author of Genetics, a widely used textbook in the field. She is a past president of the Society of Cell Biologists and a prominent figure in the developing field of Science and Religion. Here’s what she says about religion in her book, The Sacred Depths of Nature.

Religion. From the Latin religio, to bind together again. The same linguistic root as ligament. We have throughout the ages sought connection with higher powers in the sky or beneath the earth, or with ancestors living in some other realm. We have also sought, and found, religious fellowship with one another. And now we realize that we are connected to all creatures. Not just in food chains or ecological equilibria. We share a common ancestor. We share genes for receptors and cell cycles and signal-transduction cascades. We share evolutionary constraints and possibilities. We are connected all the way down.
Michael Dowd and Connie Barlow – the married duo who travel around presenting “The Great Story” – (and who visited with us a couple of years ago) remind us that we are connected all the way up to the stars as well. We are products of stardust. Yes – YOU are star material!

I am so blessed to live in a nature wonderland right outside of the city limits. Like Ursala Goodenough – when I walk through the woods or across the dam by the pond – and see all the organisms flying, crawling, pushing their heads through the dirt – I can open my senses to them and connect. Although I enjoy their beauty, I don’t have to depend on their being beautiful to appreciate them. Now I can look at the fungi growing on that dead tree in the corner of my yard and think about their genes switching off and on their cells dividing rapidly and differentiating in pace with my own. And I can experience the tie that binds.

Now you would think that folks like Ursala Goodenough and other religious naturalists (including me) would be satisfied to just worship in the woods since we connect with the worms and the weeds. But many of us have the need for religious community and for a faith of some kind! That seems to be something that we have evolved and scientists are learning more about the brain and religion all the time. In any case, when we participate in worship services and rituals with others, we can experience true reverence. Reverence is the religious emotion elicited when we perceive the sacred. And it calls us to our higher potential – just as Moses was called to a higher potential when he experienced the sacred on that mountaintop. As noted by my imaginary group of parishioners, I can experience this is as I read the words of Jesus’ sermon on the mount or as I participate in pagan rituals, as I meditate and study the four noble truths of Buddha, and as I become involved in social justice activities. I sing praises to God or to the Spirit of Life and I am filled with an appreciation for this wonderful world. I don’t have to believe every word I sing in a literal sense to understand the deeper meaning that the words represent. And SO, I profess my faith with Ursula Goodenough who says:

For me, the existence of all this complexity and awareness and intent and beauty, and my ability to apprehend it, serves as the ultimate meaning and the ultimate value. The continuation of life reaches around, grabs its own tail, and forms a scared circle that requires no further justification, no Creator, no superordinate meaning of meaning, no purpose other than that the continuation continue until the sun collapses or the final meteor collides.

So, for now, I still feel comfortable describing myself as a Religious Naturalist. I marvel at how the world has emerged and how we continue to emerge. I stand in awe at our interconnectedness. And yet there is much that I do not understand. Like Goodenough, however, I have a covenant with Mystery. I do not need definite answers. I do, however, need the religious experiences that provide the nourishment for my inner being.

And I get many of those here– with you – at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Statesboro. You and UU are the amazing grace that has come into my life. This life! And I am truly blessed.

Hallelujah, Amen, and Blessed Be!

Sally's Lesson

MINISTERIAL MUUSINGS
Rev. Jane Page

We learn from our parents, our teachers, our colleagues, our friends, and even our children. But if we are really aware, we can also learn magnificent lessons from non-human friends too! I learned a lesson on conflict resolution recently from our youngest dog, Sally Brock-Page. Sally is a cute black puppy we got from the pound last fall. And Sally is a very important dog for lots of reasons. For one thing, Sally represents the commitment that has grown between me and my partner of eight years. When Greg came into my life, I already had an old dog named Welcome. And Welcome is still with us. We normally think of Welcome as the PAGE dog. Greg’s children really wanted a puppy so we adopted one from the pound and named her Windy. Because our relationship was fairly new, and I was still a bit skeptical about whether or not anyone could live with me very long, I suggested that we have the understanding that Windy would be the BROCK dog. However, in 2007, we took the big leap of giving our love its fullest expression through marriage. This past fall when we got a new puppy, we decided that she would be the BROCK-PAGE dog. And Sally Brock-Page has grown in size and spirit. She is a healthy, happy, dog – a little on the frisky side, but we attribute that to her youth! In any case, Sally is the dog that taught me a lesson recently.

In the mornings, I usually walk across the pond dam and use the looping road on the other side as my jogging track. (Four times around is approximately one mile.) Occasionally one or more of the dogs will go with me. There is one house in the neighborhood on the looping road that has an old dog that will bark loudly to let us know that we are unwelcome. If any of our dogs are with me, I call them to me to make sure they do not go near that dog’s yard. I’m not afraid for our dogs. I do believe they could easily take the other dog in a fight with no problem. This dog is one of those very short legged dogs, and he moves pretty slowly. I just don’t want any of them to get hurt. So what’s Sally’s lesson?

The other morning Sally was with me. When we came around the first time, I called her and she stayed by me when we went by Short Dog’s yard. But as we neared the yard on the second loop, Sally bounded into it! “OH NO!” I shouted. “Come, Sally, Come.” She paid me no attention but ran right up to Short Dog. Then she got down on her belly, as LOW as she could go to get lower than Short Dog. And she stayed very still and let Short Dog sniff her all around. Then Sally just jumped back up and ran back to join me on the road. After that, Short Dog did not bark at us. On the third round Sally left and went back across the pond dam while I finished my jog. I expected Short Dog to begin barking at me when Sally was not at my side, but he let me by without a yelp. Sally had been my emissary – but now I was accepted as well.

I pondered that interaction and put some words to Sally’s action. She was saying to Short Dog, “We know this is your domain. We humble ourselves to show you that we come in peace and mean you no harm.” And I thought about the criticism that President Obama received just by providing the slight culturally appropriate bow to leaders of other countries when visiting them. Maybe we should do more bowing, not less. And perhaps we could easily solve many conflicts in our families, at work, and in other relationships by being willing to show a little more humbleness. It’s good to STAND UP for what you believe in and fight for what’s right. But sometimes, maybe all we need to do to stop those yelping dogs is to let them know that we recognize their right to exist and be happy, and that we mean them no harm. Here's to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; for Short Dog, Sally, and the rest of us!

Pathways

MINISTERIAL MUUSINGS
May 2010

At our semi-annual Southeast UU Ministers Retreat at “The Mountain” near Highlands, N.C.; we traditionally have a break from our meetings and workshops on Wednesday afternoon. Some choose to find a good rocking chair on the decks of the lodge or their cabins. Others take hikes to nearby mountain peaks or waterfalls. And some even venture into the nearby community for some recreational shopping in the unique mountain craft shops and second-hand clothing stores.

At our spring retreat, I chose to join the hike to Highland Falls. What a glorious experience! As we entered the area, however, we were faced with some choices. There were multiple paths that would take us to these falls. They provided different levels of climbing difficulty, different lengths, and different views of the falls. Some came together at times then would split again. Our group made our decision for an initial path, then used hardy “scouts” to determine which alternatives might be worthy of our efforts on others. In any case, we made it to a point in the falls where we could relax on the large stones, be cooled by the slight spray, and meditate in the beauty of the moment in that wondrous place! We chose an alternate path on the return trip and assisted one another to make sure we all reached that higher level where our cars were parked.

Our little adventure with the different paths to the waterfall reminded me of that old religious metaphor regarding different spiritual paths to the mountaintop. And, of course, we Unitarian Universalists are strongly supportive of this concept. Included in our principles are the declarations that we covenant to affirm and promote “acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations,” and “a free and responsible search for truth and meaning.”

How can we do this with all our diversity? When we meet together as a congregation, we can enjoy our differences as we sing songs, worship with rituals, hear informative and inspirational messages, and participate in talkback. These activities, as well as many of our social and religious education activities, provide some broad support for all of us. But sometimes we feel the need to travel on our own theological path more deliberately with other like-minded members and friends. Our earth-centered spirituality group (a.k.a. the pagan group) has provided a good model for us in this effort. Although the members of this group participate regularly in our larger congregational worship and religious education activities, they also meet separately for study, ritual, and support of one another.

In recent weeks, I have heard others express the desire to more formally associate. Three possible “pathway” groups for our congregation are Buddhist, Christian, and Freethinkers (which may include agnostics, atheists, humanists, and others with more naturalistic theologies or cosmologies). Our association provides many resources for these pathways and there are organizations at the associational level that can be supportive of our congregational efforts. If you are interested in participating in one of these groups, please email me at revjanepage@yahoo.com or give me a call. I will assist in connecting folks and help in scheduling or coordinating some organizational meetings. Then group members can decide on how they want to move forward together. Hopefully this will allow us all to travel more deeply on our paths with the support of others in the UU community. And we can all delight in the waterfalls and mountain peaks that we encounter.

The Blooming of UUFS

Easter Sunday Homily and Flower Communion

I was having a discussion with one of you last Sunday about depression – which seems to have increased among many folks lately. Now, of course, many of us have had events in our lives that provide good reasons for depression. But I think this long winter may have played a part as well. When we were having this discussion, I told this parishioner – if these trees and bushes would just burst forth with their flowers, I believe it would lift a lot of spirits. We need the blossoms! We need the flowers! What is it about flowers that can shift our attitude so?

One of the most obvious reasons is their beauty and their fragrance. They are beautiful and fragrant to attract the birds and the bees, but we human creatures are charmed by them as well.
And perhaps they also lift our spirits because they signal the end of winter. And maybe because they symbolize for us renewal – new growth – the plant has survived and is blooming. Yes, we will have fruit and seeds for the future!

The title of this little homily today is “The Blooming of UUFS.” And today we are blooming in honor of this special month when we are celebrating 25 years as a congregation and 20 years in affiliation with UUA. And our wonderful fellowship does seem to be blooming beautifully, doesn’t it? We have so many more young tender blossoms among us – many of them now out searching for Easter Eggs. What a joy to have these young ones and their parents or other caregivers here! And the birds of paradise have dropped seeds for new flowers from other regions and from right here in Statesboro to be among us and grow their faith. We welcome those of you who have come to us in recent months and years. And then there are those faithful perennials who have remained with us – for five years, ten years, some for a quarter of a century – and we do appreciate the beauty that you have shared with us for many years in our lovely garden. We celebrate the Blooming of our congregation and commit ourselves to tending this garden of faith with utmost care and love.

Today is Easter Sunday – and we share flowers in our Easter celebrations because they remind us of the spirit of this season. That’s the Hallelujah spirit of resurrection, renewal, and rebirth. It’s that springtime spirit that gives us an appreciation of life itself and a hope for the future. And flowers often represent the spirit of love, especially as they are given in love.

The flower can convey what words cannot. I think that’s why folks give flowers when they are in the dog house. The Buddha certainly understood something special about the flower’s message. You all may remember the old story that is especially meaningful to Zen Buddhists, for whom an experience often conveys more wisdom than words. Here is one version of that old story about Buddha’s Flower Sermon.

Toward the end of his life, the Buddha took his disciples to a quiet pond for instruction. As they had done so many times before, the Buddha’s followers sat in a small circle around him, and waited for the teaching.

But this time the Buddha had no words. He reached into the muck and pulled up a lotus flower. And he held it silently before them, its roots dripping mud and water.

The disciples were greatly confused. Buddha quietly displayed the lotus to each of them. In turn, the disciples did their best to expound upon the meaning of the flower: what it symbolized, and how it fit into the body of Buddha’s teaching.

When at last the Buddha came to his follower Mahakasyapa, the disciple suddenly understood. He smiled and began to laugh. Buddha handed the lotus to Mahakasyapa and began to speak.
“What can be said I have said to you,” smiled the Buddha, “and what cannot be said, I have given to Mahakashyapa.”

Mahakashyapa became Buddha’s successor from that day forward.

So I’m going to follow the Buddha’s teaching and not SAY as much to you today as I usually do. Instead, we are going to “experience” our flower communion.

(Bell Ring)

The Unitarian Universalist Flower Communion service which we are about to celebrate was originated in 1923 by Dr. Norbert Capek [Chah-Peck], founder of the modem Unitarian movement in Czechoslovakia. On the last Sunday before the summer recess of the Unitarian church in Prague, all the children and adults participated in this colorful ritual, which gives concrete expression to the humanity-affirming principles of our liberal faith. When the Nazis took control of Prague in 1940, they found Dr. Capek's gospel of the inherent worth and beauty of every human person to be-as Nazi court records show– "...too dangerous to the Reich [for him] to be allowed to live." Dr. Capek was sent to Dachau, where he was killed the next year during a Nazi "medical experiment." This gentle man suffered a cruel death, but his message of human hope and decency lives on through his Flower Communion, which is widely celebrated today. It is a noble and meaning-filled ritual we are about to recreate.

Consecrating the Flowers
(Will the hosts please bring forth the flowers for the consecration.)

Whenever Dr. Capek conducted his Flower Communion in Prague, he would say this prayer as he "consecrated" the flowers:

Infinite Spirit of Life, we ask thy blessing on these (flowers), thy messengers of fellowship and love. May they remind us amid diversities of knowledge and of gifts, to be one in desire and affection, and devotion to thy holy will. May they also remind us of the value of comradeship, of doing and sharing alike. May we cherish friendship as one of thy most precious gifts. May we not let awareness of another's talents discourage us, or sully our relationship, but may we realize that, whatever we can do, great or small, the efforts of all of us are needed to do thy work in this world.

Partaking of the Communion
In most of the UU flower communion services, the congregants just come and choose a take one of these consecrated flowers. But for the last few years, we’ve made our flower communion a little more communal by sharing flowers with our neighbors in the congregation – and we’ll do the same today. I ask as the music plays for each of you to come forward beginning with the front row on my right – your left – and accept a flower or piece of greenery. Now the one you get is not going to be the one you keep. Then carry that flower or green peace back to your place and you may be seated. As the music continues to play, focus on that little piece of nature’s beauty and the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. After everyone has a flower or green peace, I’ll tell you what we will do next.

Music

Now we are going to stand in body or spirit and sing a song together as we give and receive flowers from each other. And that song is a simple one that you may be familiar with. It goes like this.

From you I receive; to you I give, together we share, and from this we live.

Sing that together with me.

Now find a partner seated near you. If you don’t have one – raise your hand and folks can regroup in that area or form a group of three perhaps. Now you’ll take the flower in your right hand – and share it with your partner’s left hand and look into their eyes while we sing and share. Ready? Sing…..

Now find another person nearby to share with. Put the flower in your right hand, and receive a flower in your left hand.

And one more time……..

Now you may be seated. When the service ends today, you may take that flower or piece of greenery home with you as a remembrance of the sharing we’ve done today, or you may place it in one of the vases in the front and we will deliver them to others who may find joy in their beauty and fragrance.

Listen now to Dr. Capek's Flower Communion prayer:
In the name of Providence, which implants in the seed the future of the tree and in the hearts of men [and women] the longing for people living in [human] love; in the name of the highest. in whom we move and who makes the mother [and father], the brother and sister what they are; in the name of sages and great religious leaders, who sacrificed their lives to hasten the coming of [peace and justice]--let us renew our resolution--sincerely to be real brothers and sisters regardless of any kind of bar which estranges [one from another]. In this holy resolution may we be strengthened, knowing that we are (one) family, that one spirit, the spirit of love, unites us, and [may we] endeavor for a more perfect and more joyful life.
Amen.

Where did the Palm Wavers Go?

Rev. Jane Page
Palm Sunday – March 28, 2010
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Statesboro


It was Palm Sunday, but because of a sore throat, five year old Johnny stayed home from the local Episcopal Church with his grandmother. When his family returned home, they were carrying several palm fronds. Johnny asked them what they were for.
      "People held them over Jesus' head as he walked by," his father told him.
      "Dang it," Johnny fumed, "the one Sunday I don't go and he shows up."

Well, Johnny really had a pretty good question. What WERE the Palm fronds really for? I did try to do some research to find out the answer to little Johnny’s question. And I got conflicting responses. It seems that the Palm represented something different depending on when it was being waved and who was waving it.

During pre-Christian times, the Palm was a symbol of military victory – especially for the Jews. Jewish historians tell of a revolt of traditional religious Jews, called the Maccabbees who were revolting against the Seleucid (seh–LOO –sid) Empire and their Hellenized Jewish allies. The Maccabbees were especially angry that the government had taken over the temple and installed worship of Greek gods. The Maccabbees guerilla warfare was long but eventually successful. The story is that they marched triumphantly into Jerusalem waving palm fronds as a sign of their military victory.

SO – some interpreters of Christian scriptures share that folks welcoming Jesus were waving Palms because THEY were expecting a Messiah who would lead a military revolt against the Roman government. And the hope was that this charismatic figure called Jesus would be the King that could do just that.

Another source said that Jewish people often waved palms at celebrations. They were especially used at harvest celebrations and represented peace and plenty. But they were waved at other celebrations as well. Hey – they didn’t have balloons back then. So, if you think about it, most of the folks entering Jerusalem were there to celebrate the Passover. Could it be that they happened to have had Palm branches in their hands ANY way – because they were celebrating? Perhaps so!

And then finally, many Christian scholars identify the palm as representing – not military victory – but victory of the faithful believers over the enemies of the soul.

So the answer to little Johnny’s question would depend on which preacher is standing in the pulpit. Since I’m here today, I’ll go with door # 1. If there were Palms, my guess is that the folks were waving them in hopes of being saved from the Romans – not from some spiritual hell.

A second bit of conflicting symbolism related to that little donkey Jesus rode. Now Jesus was a man who walked – he walked everywhere, – as did most folks back then. So WHY ride now? And why ride this iddy biddy colt?

If you study the Christian gospels, you will discover that much was written to coincide with Hebrew Scripture prophesies – like many of the events related to Jesus’ birth. It’s almost like someone took all these prophesies and composed a story that seemed to “fit” – although sometimes the fit was like putting the square peg in the round hole, but nevertheless, it gets in there. And then the writer even says: “This was done to fulfill the prophesy.” The Jews (or at least some of them) had been looking for a messiah for some time – and these Christian gospels seemed to be written, at least partially, to proclaim – hey, Jesus is the man. Now in the reading from John that you heard earlier, the writer quotes a prophesy that says: “Do not be afraid, O Daughter of Zion; see, your king is coming, seated on a donkey's colt." I did a little background research and found this prophesy in chapter 9 of Zachariah – a minor prophet book in the Old Testament that declares visions of horrible destruction followed by wonderful celebrations of the Jewish people after defeating all their enemies. This chapter ends with the following prediction: “How attractive and beautiful they will be! Grain will make the young men thrive, and new wine the young women.” No wonder the crowd got excited! So one obvious reason for Jesus riding the donkey would be because he was well-versed in the Hebrew Scriptures, and WANTED people to draw the conclusion that he was the prophesized messiah.

Now some say that Jesus intentionally rode in on this donkey to humble himself. These bible interpreters claim that most leaders would be riding in on a horse – not a slow pokey donkey. And this little donkey – never ridden before – was to convey a message of humility. In any case, I’m sure that if Jesus did arrive on the slow pokey donkey – some might have been disappointed. I know that feeling myself. After the last presidential election, I was hoping for our leader to ride in on a horse called CHANGE – and boldly cleanse our land of evils like “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” “a broken health care system,” “an unfair tax structure,” and certainly, “unnecessary wars.” Instead, I’ve had to adjust to this donkey ride – but hopefully, we’ll get there folks.

Although there are some discrepancies in the three gospels that tell this story, they all have jubilant crowds praising Jesus as he nears the city. One of the gospels, however, also includes some verses that indicate Jesus’ realization that these crowds obviously had not heard his teachings. In Luke, the writer shares that when this jubilant parade was nearing the end at Jerusalem, Jesus wept. Luke 19: 41-42 states: “As Jesus drew near to the city of Jerusalem he wept over it saying, “If you had known, even you, especially in this your day, the things that make for your peace!! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” So while the people were very joyous on this day, Jesus himself was said to be crying. The writer of Luke said he cried for Jerusalem. But one also has to wonder if he didn’t cry for himself, for Jesus likely knew that the end was near. He was seen by the establishment as one who did not follow their rules and who openly criticized them, and he had attracted a huge following. That scared the folks who had been in the more privileged groups of authority. And we know – even looking today – what can happen when folks are fearful that they may lose their power. We’ve been witnessing some mighty ugly interactions up in Washington lately, much of it based on fear – and perhaps greed.

So Jesus was sad – and he wept. After he entered the city, he also experienced some other very difficult emotions. When he visited the temple, he realized that the temple he had loved had turned into a den of thieves – with moneychangers using their positions to take advantage of the poor religious folks who came to make their required sacrifices. We usually refer to Jesus as one who was “meek and mild.” But according to the gospels, that is not the Jesus that entered the temple that day. He was furious! He threw out the merchants and those selling the doves for sacrifice and overturned their tables. Now some scholars tell us that this story is probably metaphorical – with the temple representing Israel and the moneychangers representing the established religious order. Perhaps so! But since we are telling this as a story – anyway – that may or may not be true – anyway, let’s include the angry Jesus.

When I was presenting UU 101 (an orientation to Unitarian Universalism) recently, one of our newer folks who had visited just a couple of times asked me about one of the songs they had heard us singing. The song was “We are a Gentle, Angry, People.” And it was just surprising to this person that we would claim our anger. I explained the context in which the song had been written. Holly Near wrote this song after the 1978 assassination of Harvey Milk – the openly gay San Francisco politician. Like the crowd that gathered in the streets of San Francisco that night, sometimes we gentle folks ARE angry. And that’s okay if we manage it well and channel it in the right direction. So Jesus got angry. Now, I’m not going to claim that Jesus managed his anger very well that day. He probably could have done a little better. But in any case, when he took action, he really made those in authority mad – and fearful – and he probably sealed his fate for sure.

When Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples, he experienced lots of other emotions – including love and compassion for his disciples as he gently washed their feet. And I’m sure extreme disappointment as he acknowledged that he knew his betrayer. Later that night in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus experienced frustration with his disciples for falling asleep, anguish as he contemplated his fate, fear as he begged his Heavenly Father for some possibility for escape. And then…. And then…..

There was another crowd – another huge crowd here in this city that had welcomed Jesus with Hosanna’s and Palm branches just a few days before. But this crowd was not jubilant – this was an angry mob, calling out with the encouragement of the high priests, “Crucify him.” “Crucify him.”

And the title of my sermon is: Where did the Palm Wavers Go? How did songs of praise turn into shouts calling for torture and death? Of course another question is: are these the same people? Maybe the Palm Wavers left the city – all hiding out, like many of Jesus disciples were doing. And maybe those who had stayed away from Jesus’ jubilant entry because they were not fans of Jesus – now turned out to demand his death. That is very possible. But there are probably others who just joined both crowds and were swayed by others to behave with the crowd in both instances.

When I was a young teenager, my mom used to warn me about “the crowd.” She would say – “Now Jane, be careful not to just go along with the crowd.” Well, I took her advice. And here I am. And I would probably bet that most of you sitting here are not easily caught up with crowd mentality – or you probably wouldn’t be here, where we are all pretty independent thinkers. But it even happens with us now and then, doesn’t it? We just want to go along with a different crowd. I want to shop at the farmer’s market, and buy second hand clothes, and drive a hybrid, and come to church here! I hope that I’m doing those things because it’s the right thing to do, - but I also have to admit that I like being with like-minded folks and doing things that like-minded folks do! And that’s okay, as long as I monitor the reasons I’m involved in certain activities and make sure that I’m weighing out whether or not these activities are really the best things for me to do.

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been studying lots of social psychology – specifically related to crowd psychology, herd psychology, collective behavior, crowd manipulation, etc. And I found that scholars are not in agreement about a lot of this – and in fact, many of the theories that were popular in the 19th and early 20th century related to things like “group think,” are now being debunked by others. So I’m not going to go into a lot of specifics on any one of these with you. But I will share a summary of the three major theories and you can see how each of these might present an explanation of the crowds in Jesus’ day and in ours as well.

(Note: The following in italics is quoted from -http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collective_behavior)

The first theory is:
Contagion Theory - the Contagion Theory was formulated by Gustave Le Bon. According to him, crowds exert a hypnotic influence over their members. Shielded by their anonymity, large numbers of people abandon personal responsibility and surrender to the contagious emotions of the crowd…. Le Bon's Theory, although one of the earliest explanations of crowd behavior, is still used by many people. However, critics argue that the "collective mind" has not been documented by systematic studies.

The second theory is:
Convergence Theory - whereas the Contagion Theory states that crowds cause people to act in a certain way, Convergence theory states that people who want to act in a certain way come together to form crowds. It asserts that people with similar attributes find other like-minded persons with whom they can release underlying tendencies…..

And finally, the third theory is:
Emergent-Norm Theory - according to Ralph Turner and Lewis Killian, crowds begin as collectivities composed of people with mixed interests and motives. Especially in the case of less stable crowds—expressive, acting and protest crowds—norms may be vague and changing, as when one person decides to break the glass windows of a store and others join in and begin looting merchandise. In short, people in crowds make their own rules as they go along. And this theory may explain some of the crowd behavior in Jerusalem that week.

Though the Contagion Theory does seem less evolved, I think it’s certainly still valid in some situations. If everyone starts to get up and head out to the dance floor, there are some of us that want to go out there too – and be a part of that crowd. It is a bit contagious. Sometimes you want to be where others are. And now with modern technology – we see the same thing happening. I actually watched some of the super bowl this year – even though I had not watched a single NFL game all year – and didn’t even know who was IN this super bowl till the day before it aired. But in front of the TV was the place to be that Sunday night – and I felt compelled to at least look at some of it. Similarly, we are seeing some of the crowd convergence theory on social networking – where there are groups forming to SEE if they can find thousands of like-minded folks who are fans of someone or who favor health care or who prefer a poodle with a tin hat over Glenn Beck. Now most of us like it when there are lots of others who join our group. (By the way, we have 90 members of our UUFS Facebook group!) One concern related to social networking is the recent phenomenon of the “flash mob.” I heard on the news last night that teenagers in Philadelphia are twittering one another and deciding to meet up downtown – just to act out and misbehave in huge numbers. But, I don’t think most of US join a group or organization because there are lots of others in it. We join the group because it’s meaningful to us. We join the group because we seek community. We, we need community! But most of us do NOT need a crowd. And I dare say – Jesus did not NEED a crowd. In fact, he often tried to get AWAY from the crowd. But he did need community. And his community failed him.

On that fateful Friday as he hung from that cross – where were the Palm wavers then? Where were even his closest disciples? Who was there for him? According to Christian scriptures, his crowd of supporters had disappeared – replaced by the curious and those who enjoyed macabre events like crucifixion. It was too hot for the Palm wavers and disciples – and they left the kitchen. Well, at least according to the three synoptic gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Now the writer of John places the three Marys there and John as well. So we don’t really know for sure who was there – but certainly not most of those who were supposedly his closest community.

Now, it’s easy for us to criticize the disciples – yet – how many of us are guilty of the same thing. We can hang there when things are going well, but sometimes we find other reasons to absent ourselves when things become more difficult. Can you think of a situation where you have done that? ………………….. Most of us can if we are honest with ourselves. We’ll wave the Palms – thank you very much! But don’t ask us to be there with the pain and suffering. (Now, of course, I’m not speaking of those situations where we must leave to protect our families, ourselves, or our sanity. – Okay?)

Yes, in that old, old, gospel story, Jesus wept that day when he entered Jerusalem – for he knew his message of peace had not been heard and the end was near. And on that cross –forsaken by his community – he cried; he cried out – “My God, my God – why has thou forsaken me?” Is it any wonder he felt forsaken by God when others were not there?

When I was working on this sermon earlier this week, I was also planning to go with two of you to a Brunswick hospital yesterday to represent all of you and be with one of our members who now lives in Florida. Jessie’s doctor was planning some surgery in an effort to prolong her life a bit longer. However, I found out Friday the doctor had decided against the surgery. So we postponed our trip to the next time she travels from Florida to Brunswick for treatment. Now, we will not be going to bring some miracle of healing to this dear friend. We are just going there to hold her hand a bit and say, we do love you – and we have not forsaken you. And though we may have miles between us now that you have moved to Florida, you and your love remain in our hearts – even when you depart. I encourage those of you who know Jessie to send her a card sharing your care and love.

No, we don’t need a crowd of Palm wavers – but we all need a few hand palm wavers to say, “Hey – I see you, and I care.” Do you know of someone you need to wave to today – perhaps with a phone call or card or email? Is there someone here in this congregation who could use a hug today? You can get one here.

You know we folks have different theologies and beliefs. But as UU martyr Francis David said, “We do not have to think alike to love alike.” So wave your hand palms at folks today. Let them know that you see them, you are there… you care.

Oh, may it be so!

Becoming a Welcoming Congregation

MARCH MINISTERIAL MUUSINGS
Rev. Jane Page

Rev. Keith Kron, director of UUA’s office of Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Concerns, was our guest preacher on February 14. During the talkback session he discussed the “Welcoming Congregation” program that UUA has and was asked whether or not our congregation was among those who had done the work necessary for this designation. I am embarrassed that Rev. Keith had to answer “no” to this person. While it is something that many of us have wanted to do for some time, there seemed to be concerns about moving forward in the past. I do not think this is the case now, though. We already have someone who has volunteered to chair the “Welcoming Congregation” committee and others have shown an interest in beginning this process. You may be asking, “Why do we need to do this? Aren’t we already welcoming?” I’m providing below some information (much of it from the Office of BLGT Concerns) which may answer some of your questions.

The Program

The Welcoming Congregation Program is a completely volunteer program for congregations that see a need to become more inclusive towards bisexual, gay, lesbian, and/or transgender people. It consists of a series of workshops developed by the UUA. The goal of the workshops is to reduce prejudice by increasing understanding and acceptance among people of different sexual orientations. After congregations have completed activities which they determine will help them meet their goals, the congregation takes a vote as to whether they wish to submit their application to be designated as an official “Welcoming Congregation.”

Why Just Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian and/or Transgender?

Why single out bisexual, gay, lesbian, and/or transgender people? The Rev. Douglas Morgan Strong probably states it best in the Welcoming Congregation manual: “For centuries, the church has been a leading force against sexual minorities. It is not surprising that gay people are reluctant to reach out to the very institution that oppresses them. Yet, gay, lesbian, [transgender], and bisexual people have no less need for warmth, caring, and affirmation than anyone else who calls the liberal church their religious home. In fact, as a subculture in society gay, lesbian, [transgender], and bisexual people may need our support more than the general population.”

Aren't We Already a Welcoming Congregation?

Is it true that our church probably meets most of the qualifications for a Welcoming Congregation? Our church by-laws state that our membership “is open to all qualitfied persons regardless of color, sex, affectional or sexual orientation, age, or national origin.” And indeed, our membership already includes some diversity in affectional or sexual orientation. However, official recognition as a Welcoming Congregation allows us to open our church as safe space for bisexual, gay, lesbian, and transgender persons; to take positions on oppression in our larger communities; and to accomplish outreach.

Welcoming Congregation Benefits

Confronting our prejudices in a non-judgmental, non-threatening group allows us to explore their origins and offers an opportunity to replace those prejudices with knowledge. Understanding our prejudices leads to individual spiritual growth and congregational unity.

What’s Ahead

Our vision goes beyond the Welcoming Congregation Program. By taking this first step, we hope to explore more issues than those presented here—like sexism, racism, ableism, to name just a few. Becoming a Welcoming Congregation will act as a catalyst to learning more about ourselves and to ending exclusion. Only when we are truly open to the wealth of diversity in our world will the inherent worth and dignity of every person be affirmed with a large voice. If you are interested in serving on the welcoming congregation committee, send your name and contact information to statesborouu@yahoo.com with “Welcoming Congregation” in the subject line.

Jane and Julia (Ward Howe)

Rev. Jane Page
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Statesboro
February 28, 2010

In 1991, I spoke at a huge gathering of folks who had come to either protest or encourage a recent Bulloch County School Board consideration to move away from the stringent tracking procedures that began in kindergarten, with the result of virtually re-segregating the schools. Of course, I supported moving away from this extreme tracking and provided lots of evidence to counter arguments that had been made by the “citizens” group. Many of the folks that I had grown up with in Statesboro were in this very conservative group. After the meeting, one of my former classmates came up to me and said, “Jane – you were raised right here in Statesboro, Georgia with the rest of us – and you were taught the same things about society that we were taught – and you stayed here just like many of us did, so what in the WORLD happened to you?”

And I replied, “Well – I read.” And folks, that WAS the difference.

I thought about that when I was reading about Julia Ward Howe and her years growing up. Now Julia had a very different upbringing than I did – in that she was born in 1819 to a wealthy New York family. Here’s a picture of her with her two older brothers.
And here is one of the houses they lived in called "The Corner."









But Julia also was seriously limited in many ways. After another brother and two sisters were added to the family, her mother died. Julia was just five and her father was overly cautious and protective. He was also extremely religious -- a low church evangelical – and was determined to tightly control his children’s activities. Although he allowed his sons to attend a progressive boarding school, his intent had been to educate his daughters at home. After some experiments with in-house governesses and tutors, he did send his very bright eldest daughter Julia to some schools in the neighborhood under close watch. However, she says that her serious education came after she left her neighborhood schooling at 16 and was confined by her father to her house. While she could not attend the theater or opera, she had open reign on his library. She was already proficient in French, Latin, and Italian, and a scholar living with them tutored Julia further in German, allowing her to read even the most difficult German texts. So when her older brother Sam brought his books from Europe home to the library, her world opened up even more.

Julia began to read all kinds of philosophy, theology, poetry, and other literature – much that would make her father shudder if he had been aware of this self-devised curriculum. Her father had wished his daughters to have an education that would help them be a favorable companion to their husbands. But Julia went much further than that. Yes, something happened to Julia. She read, and read, and read. And she began to acquire an ambition of becoming more than a good companion to some future husband. Julia felt that she would one day produce an important literary work, “the novel or play of the age.” She was encouraged by her brother Sam and by his friend, Henry Longfellow.

Because she was not allowed to go out, Julia spent more and more time in her room alone, writing poetry and brooding over her father’s mistreatment of her. Her only relief was spending summers in Newport with her grandmother. One summer Mr. Ward decreed that Julia should keep him company in New York, where he could keep an eye on her, instead of going to Newport with her sisters. His son Sam wrote to him about this - -saying: "Poor Jule. You always expect too much of her in desiring that she should not only obey you but be happier in so doing than in following up certain wishes of her own. … Julia writes all day and half the night….She is murdering herself. Yet she is forced to do this. In the tedium and heat of a large solitude her restless mind must be at work."

Julia’s hard-working father’s health deteriorated and he died in 1839. Julia’s beloved brother Henry died a year later—and she later recalled that his death almost killed her, for they had become very close in the months after their father’s death. Then her brother Sam lost both his wife and baby. In her depression following the deaths of so many who had been close to her, Julia turned to religion for solace –and for a while, put aside her literary ambitions, knowing that it was her Christian duty “to avoid indulging in such worldly and therefore unfeminine dreams.” But she couldn’t remain miserable forever and gradually her preoccupation with sin and sorrow disappeared.

During this time she reread Milton’s Paradise Lost and indicated that this idea appeared to be impossible. She wrote, “I threw away, once and forever, the thought of the terrible hell which till then had always formed a part of my belief.” As Julia’s Calvinistic beliefs began to fade away, she began to turn to a more liberal Christianity, believing that human nature was inherently capable of reforming itself. She began to spend more time with her friend Mary Ward (no relation to her but a woman that had been engaged to her brother Henry). Now Mary lived in Boston and was friends with Unitarians and Transcendentalists. So Julia began to spend time with the likes of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Theodore Parker, William Ellery Channing, Thomas Higginson, and Margaret Fuller – and that really opened her mind to new ways of thinking and believing. She even published a couple of literary reviews – anonymously of course, as many women published in those days. She finally had achieved the freedom to think, and read, and write – and love. And it was the loving that eventually confined her again.

Julia was charmed by a handsome man on a black horse, Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, who was twenty years older than she. He was nicknamed “Chev” by his friends because he had been honored by the Greek government as a “Chevalier of the Greek Legion of Honor” after participating in their war of independence against the Turks. He returned to America determined to reform the world. And he had made quite a name for himself in his efforts to educate the blind at his Perkins Institute. His most famous pupil was Laura Bridgman, the first blind/deaf student to be educated. According to various letters written about it, their courtship was rather stormy – and there were doubts about the marriage on both sides. Chev wanted his wife to give up her literary aspirations and independence – although her fine words and ways initially attracted him. But weren’t women of that era supposed to sacrifice all independence when they married? And even their common friend, Longfellow, was not enthusiastic about the match. Longfellow admired Julia’s work but found her to be very forthright, a thing not very becoming of a woman. He once described her to a friend as “a fine, young, buxom damsel of force and beauty, who is full of talent, indeed carrying almost too many guns for any man who does not want to be firing salutes all the time.” But, alas love – perhaps combined with a good dose of lust – won the day and they were married when Julia was 23.

They had a year long honeymoon in Europe where their first child, Julia Romana, was born in Rome. And it was here in an art museum that Julia visited The Hermaphrodite Room, referred to in some of her writing. The famous sleeping hermaphrodite is one of the images she refers to in her letters.
This image and the paintings on the walls, as well as the stories in Greek mythology, must have touched Julia in unusual ways—for she began to write a novel about one who was born – neither fully male nor female. This novel was neither finished nor published – well not until 2004!! The first page and last page are lost – and so it a big chunk in the middle, but it is quite good, and very revealing if you attempt any analysis at all with what all was going on in her life at the time. This may have been that groundbreaking novel that Julia had hoped to produce. But she was not in a position to even consider publishing it. She doesn’t even tell anyone that she’s writing it, although she provides hints about it in some of her letters. She closeted that writing just as she had closeted her reading of controversial works years before. (Ah, I know that practice well. I had a drawer in my bathroom when I was in my 40’s where I kept my contraband reading under the feminine sanitary supplies. Included were pamphlets about – Unitarian Universalism.)

What she DID publish during the early years of her marriage was a book of poetry – again without her name accompanying it. This book was entitled Passion Flowers and was published in 1853 by a publishing house in Boston without her husband’s consent or knowledge. Though this book of poetry was published anonymously, it quickly surfaced that she was the author – and it seems that she may have helped to spread the word, hoping that the knowledge would help sales in her home city of New York. I’m going to bring Julia back to read one of her poems from this collection, and you can see how she uses her own life as an inspiration for this poetry.

Mind versus Mill-Stream

A Miller wanted a mill-stream,
A mild, efficient brook
To help him to his living, in
Some snug and shady nook.

But our Miller had a brilliant taste,
A love of flash and spray,
And so, the stream that charmed him most
Was that of brightest play.

It wore a quiet look, at times,
And steady seemed, and still,
But when its quicker depths were stirred,
Wow! But it wrought its will.

And men had tried to bridle it
By artifice, and force,
But madness from its rising grew,
And all along its course.

‘Twas on a sultry summer’s day
The Miller chanced to stop
Where it invited to ‘look in
And take a friendly drop.’

Coiffed with long wreaths of crimson weed,
Veiled by a passing cloud,
It looked a novice of the woods
That dares not speak aloud.

Said he: ‘I never met a stream
More beautiful and bland,
‘Twill gain my bread, and bless it too,
So here my mill shall stand.’

And ere the summer’s glow had passed,
Or crimson flowers did fade,
The Miller measured out his ground,
And his foundation laid.

The Miller toiled with might and main,
Builded with thought and care,
And when the Spring broke up the ice
The water wheel stood there.

Like a frolic maiden come from school,
The stream looked out, anew;
And the happy Miller bowing said,
‘Now turn my mill-wheel, do!’

‘Your mill-wheel?’ cried the naughty Nymph,
‘That would, indeed, be fine!
You have your business, I suppose,
Learn too that I have mine.’

‘What better business can you have,
That turn this wheel for me?’
Leaping and laughing, the wild thing cried,
‘Follow, and you may see.’

The Miller trudged with measured pace,
As Reason follows Rhyme,
And saw his mill-stream run to waste
In the very teeth of time.

‘Fore heaven!’ he swore, ‘since thou’rt perverse,
I’ve hit upon a plan;
A dam shall stay thine outward course,
And then, break out who can.”

So he built a dam of wood and stone,
Not sparing in the cost,
‘For,’ thought our friend, ‘this water-power
‘Must not be lightly lost.’

‘What? Will you force me?’ said the sprite;
‘You shall not find it gain;’
So, with a flash, a dash, a crush,
She made her way amain.

Then, reeling all her pent-up soul,
She rushed, in frantic race
And fragments of the Miller’s work
Threw in the Miller’s face.

The good man built his dam again,
More stoutly than before;
He flung no challenge to the foe,
But an oath he inly swore:

‘Thou seest resistance is in vain,
So yield with better grace,’
And the water sluices turned the stream
To its appointed place.

‘Aha! I’ve conquered now!’ quoth he,
For the water-fury bold
Was still an instant, ere she rose
In wrath and power fourfold.

With roar and rush, and massive sweep
She cleared the shameful bound,
And flung to utterness of waste
The Miller, and his mound.

MORAL

If you would marry happily
On the shady side of life,
Choose out some quietly-disposed
And placid tempered wife,

To share the length of sober days,
And dimly slumberous nights,
But well beware those fitful souls
Fate wings for wilder flights.

For men will woo the tempest,
And wed it at their cost,
Then swear they took it for summer dew,
And ah! Their peace is lost!

Well, in many ways – Julia wanted it all too, because she strove to be seen as a respected wife and mother, raising her six children in a variety of settings; first – in the doctors wing of Perkins institute, then in a country home they returned to often named Green Peace by Julia, while renting homes in Boston during “the social season.” Like the stream in her poem, Julia sometimes quietly turned the mill-wheel for her husband, like when she helped him with the publication of “The Boston Commonwealth,” an abolitionist paper. In fact, she was working as the woman behind the man when she traveled with him to tour a war camp in his role as director of the Sanitary Commission. And ironically, as a result of this trip, she finally realized fame as a writer – with words for “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” She received $5 for publishing the lyrics in the Atlantic Monthly.

Her work with the abolitionists was just the beginning of her involvement with organizations working for justice. In fact she started many herself. And much to her husband’s chagrin, in addition to more publications (this time under her own name), she began lecturing all over the country for various causes, especially those related to women’s rights. And not only did she lecture, with the encouragement of her friends who were Unitarian ministers, she began to preach. She never was formally ordained, but preach she did – from little wooden churches in Santa Domingo, to small prison chapels, to large stone Unitarian churches in New England.

Her letters showed how she worked hard to maintain a “good” marriage while answering her calling. Although “the stream and the miller” were constantly struggling, she stopped resisting and stayed by his side when he was ill before he died in 1876.

And then, in the first journal entry after her husband's death, Julia wrote, "Start my new life today," and indeed she did. For the next 34 years she was a strong force. That vibrant stream rose up knowing there were no more dams to thwart it. It was said that she answered to no one except herself and God. Though she faced financial instability after Chev’s death, Julia was resourceful and used her fame for not only promoting women’s rights, peace, and reform for prisons and schools, but also to make a living with her speaking for her remaining years – which were many, for Julia Ward Howe lived and worked till her death in 1910 at the age of 91.

And so we come back to the title of this sermon – “Jane and Julia.”

Near the end of the movie, Julie and Julia, Julie Powell shares how she and her hero Julia Child are alike. Yet she recognizes that she is just an admirer of a great star – and is happy to be able to have learned from her. Similarly, I share some attributes with one of my Unitarian heroes, Julia Ward Howe. We have both played the piano, and have loved singing, reading, writing, learning, teaching and preaching. We were both married during the first half of our adult years to charming husbands who had a difficult time accepting who we were. We both were pretty pitiful at our attempts with the domestic arts of housekeeping, cooking, and sewing; while we both have worked hard for peace, liberty and justice for all. And yet, I, too, am happy just to be an admirer of a great, though imperfect, star that shines with heroes, past and present, to illuminate my path.

I’m going to bring Julia back to close this sermon by sharing a little of a speech she made at the Parliament of the World's Religions at the 1893 Columbian Exposition, Chicago World's Fair.

What is Religion?

It seems to me very important that from this Parliament should go forth a fundamental agreement as to what is religion and as to what is not religion.

I think nothing is religion which puts one individual absolutely above others, and surely nothing is religion which puts one sex above another. Religion is primarily our relation to the Supreme, to God himself. It is for him to judge; it is for him to say where we belong, who is highest and who is not; of that we know nothing. And any religion which will sacrifice a certain set of human beings for the enjoyment or aggrandizement or advantage of another is no religion. It is a thing which may be allowed, but it is against true religion. Any religion which sacrifices women to the brutality of men is no religion.

From this Parliament let some valorous, new, strong, and courageous influence go forth, and let us have here an agreement of all faiths for one good end, for one good thing -- really for the glory of God, really for the sake of all humanity.

And to those words, I say, “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”

References

Anonymous. (1854). Passion Flowers. Boston: Tichnor, Reed, and Fields.

Clifford, D. P. (1979). Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory: A Biography of Julia Ward Howe. Boston : Little, Brown, and Company.

Howe, J. W. (2004). The Hermaphrodite. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press.

Julia Ward Howe. (n.d.). Retrieved February 1, 2010, from juliawardhowe.org: http://www.juliawardhowe.org

Julia Ward Howe. (n.d.). Retrieved February 1, 2010, from UUA: http://www25.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/juliawardhowe.html

Williams, G. (1999). Hungry Heart: The Literary Emergence of Julia Ward Howe. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press.

Ziegler, V. H. (2003). Diva Julia: The Public Romance and Private Agony of Julia Ward Howe. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity International Press.