faith

Tea and Purpose
Rev. Douglas Taylor
12-14-25
Sermon video: https://youtu.be/wS0h-ziD9V4

The amazing Terry Pratchett once wrote: “There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really. The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it. Change the story, change the world.” (Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky)

As Pratchett suggests, we do well to pay attention to the stories we are telling ourselves about the world we live in and the world we long to live into.

Last week we talked about Star Wars and the power of hope. One of the things we saw in those stories was how resistance shows up against the forces of Empire. Star Wars is a form of dystopian fiction. Dystopian literature offers a bleak perspective on the future – things have gone wrong and now we need to work to make it better. Good dystopian fiction will go one better to reveal what is going wrong now, not just in an imagined future. It will be about our present condition more than anything else.

Today I want to talk about some utopian fiction. And in a similar vein, good utopian fiction reveals not just some imagined happy future, but how we are living with the seeds of that future even today. “Change the story, change the world.”

The story I am excited about this morning is about robots. I will confess, I’ve never been a huge fan of robot-based science fiction. And upon reflection I think that has to do with the way robots have been portrayed in science fiction over the years.

One of the things about stories is how they have a surface level entertainment and a deeper level of impact. On the surface, a story about robots may be a fun exploration of technology and imagination. On a deeper level, robots offer a mirror to explore what it means to be human. When Science Fiction leans into a character who is non-human, the author is able to help the reader better understand what it means to be human.

Isaac Asimov offered the classic version of robot stories. For Asimov, robots were an exploration into ethics and logic and the hope for a better future for humanity based on ethics and logic. Asimov wrote his robots as tools or servants to humanity. And while he did critique the premise in some ways – that was the premise. Robots were the perfect servants.

Later versions of the genre had the robots take on different roles. Think about The Robot from the Lost in Space series: “Danger! Danger!” The Robot was a powerful and loyal piece of equipment. Think about The Terminator, who was really just a weapon – and then remember how most advances in drone technology are rooted in military research these days. Think about the Droids in Star Wars who were really just a plot device and sometimes comic relief. And then think about the way Gene Rodenberry’s Star Trek portrays the character of Data as a sentient being with relationships and a unique place in the crew. Data was the first (and until recently, the only) robot I enjoyed.

The Monk and Robot series by Becky Chambers offers a radically different robot from the loyal equipment or perfect servant of earlier versions of this literary mirror.  Where Asimov’s robots are essentially tools of humanity and society, Chambers’ robots are peers with humanity seeking purpose and community. Where Asimov’s robots are stand-ins for a conversation about racism and law, Chambers’ robots are conversation partners on the topic of freedom and liberation.

And most alluring for me is that freedom is not an either/or scenario – it is not an apocalyptic uprising of the machines. They do ‘rise up’ but their freedom frees the humans too. And that is how this story changes the mirror of what robots reveal about what it means to be human.  

The description on the inside jacket of this book categorized as ‘cozy sci-fi’ tells us this:

     It’s been centuries since the robots of Penga gained self-awareness and laid down their tools. Centuries since they wandered, en masse, into the wilderness, never to be seen again. Centuries since they faded into myth and urban legend.

     One day, the life of a tea monk is upended by the arrival of a robot, there to honor the old promise of checking in. The robot has one question: “What do people need?” But the answer to that question depends on who you ask, and how. They’re going to need to ask it a lot.

How would you answer? What do you see that we need?

I mentioned near the beginning that this is a utopian story. Part of the premise as the book begins is that the people have resolved their basic needs. There is no poverty, no inequity on injustice leading to homelessness or hunger. It is a society in which everyone basic needs are met. In a world where people have what they want, what more do we need?

In the second book, there is a scene when the robot, Mosscap, first comes to a community and asks it’s question: “What do you need?” The small town of people who turned up to see the oddity of a robot were confused by the question at first. Nobody quite knew how to respond.

After a long pause, a bearded man piped up from the back of the crowd. “Well, um … I need the door to my house fixed. It’s a bit drafty.” (PCS p23)

Sometimes it can be hard to think beyond the immediate needs of our daily rounds. What do you need? Maybe not ‘what do you need help with?’ Maybe not ‘What do you need a robot to do for you?’ Because I don’t have a real robot tucked up here in the pulpit with me. And I’m not so good at fixing your drafty doorway. So what do you need? Really?

I imagine many answers in our current situation might land in the category of righting a wrong, answering an injustice, fixing a gross inequity. I need ambulance rides to be fully covered by insurance and for teachers to be valued more than celebrities. I need oligarchs and abusers to be held accountable and removed from power. I need my society to really care for the wellbeing of all the people in our society.

So, if that were accomplished, as is suggested in our little novel about a tea monk and their robot friend, then what would you need? Pretend we’ve solved our injustices and we live in a Star Fleet type of universe. What do you need?

This begins to drift into theological territory. What is the Human Condition? Many theologies are built around an assumption of sin or fallenness and how awful we are compared with God and what God expects of us. I don’t have time for that sort of sour thinking. Yes, we are imperfect and broken, but not is a sinful or bad way worthy of judgment. We are imperfect and broken in the way all the world is.

I believe our Human Condition is one in which we need to be loved – and we are loved. We may forget this truth or trauma can chased this truth from our knowing, but we are. I believe our Human Condition is one in which we are intrinsically part of the holiness that pervades the whole universe. We are interconnected – thus what I need is not only what I need, but what we need. And we need each other. I think any answer to the question ‘what do people need?’ must include the answer: each other. We need mutual thriving.

In this story I’m inviting you to read, the author makes multiple references to our need for each other. It shows up when the story talks about various things from interdependent ecosystems to friendships. What do people need? Each other.

One of the characters is the robot, the mirror of humanity revealing a deep truth about ourselves. The robot brings the question and raises thoughtful and emotionally mature reflection on the responses it hears from the humans. The other character is Dex, the tea monk.

Let me tell you a little about the work of a tea monk. Dex the tea monk travels from town to town helping people. They set up a small booth in the town market when they arrive. The booth has comfortable places to sit and relax, and it has tea. People visit a tea monk to talk through things they are struggling with. Maybe it is a grief or a confusion, perhaps they just need to talk through a decision they have to make. Usually people simply need a bit of companionship and a space to relax. Dex offers people empathy and they offer a cup of tea. Dex gives people what they need.

“What do people need?” the robot asks. Both the tea monk and the robot are in the business of figuring out what people need. Perhaps it is your business as well. What do people need? Each other, certainly.

In a cozy science fiction story where people’s basic needs are met, where folks don’t need to fight against Empire or join the resistance – they still need things. Surprisingly, what people need to fight Empire is also what people need in this Monk and Robot story – mutual thriving.

Later, during the book discussion I’m planning in January, we will talk more about mutual thriving as well as topics of economy, ecology, freedom, pleasure, our relationship with nature and with technology, as well as the meaning of life. And I’ll serve tea. I promise.

For now, I leave you that question to ponder. What do you need. May you uncover surprising answers as you wind your way through this holiday season.

In a world without end, may it be so.

Do Not Oppress the Foreigner
Rev. Douglas Taylor
9-14-25
Sermon Video: https://youtu.be/7KmnS8jJB9E

Each Sunday morning we light the flame in our sanctuary chalice. The Flaming Chalice is the recognized symbol of our faith tradition. Fascinatingly, the origin of this religious symbol is pertinent to our topic of immigration this today.

Hans Deutsch, an Austrian artist, first brought together the chalice and the flame as a Unitarian symbol during his work with the Unitarian Service Committee during World War II. The Service Committee commissioned Deutsch to create a logo that they could use on legal paperwork for Jews and political dissidents fleeing the rise of Nazi Germany. It also developed as an underground symbol that transcended the language barrier for those assisting the refuges.

Our central religious symbol as Unitarian Universalists, the image that represents our identity, was first used as a symbol of hope and support for refugees escaping fascism.

The Chalice Lighting words I used this morning were written by Erika Hewitt. Rev. Hewitt wrote:

The chalice, as a symbol of Unitarian Universalism, arose as a beacon of hope in an atmosphere of tyranny. The chalice arose as a sign of promise that the marginalized would neither be forgotten nor ignored, because they are beloved and precious from the perspective of the Holy.

Our faith has a proud history of resisting tyranny and fascism. Of revealing hope, of holding out a promise to treat all people – particularly the marginalized and the vulnerable – as beloved and precious. That’s what it means to be Unitarian Universalist in face of rising tyranny.

You may have noticed the new signs posted on some of the doors in our building in recent months. The signs essentially declare some spaces as ‘private’ such as our main office, the library, the RE classrooms and so on. These signs are not meant to stop members of the congregation from entering those spaces. They are meant to stop Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents from entering. Our current federal administration reversed a long-standing position that said ICE agents would not enter sensitive areas such as hospitals, schools, and houses of worship. Ice agents are now being sent into these spaces to find people to arrest and deport. A house of worship is a public space, technically. This is an example of the administration pushing against the fourth amendment rights.

Broome County is not experiencing a surge of ICE activity in our streets. Instead we are seeing it in our jail where more that 25% of the roughly 400 people imprisoned there are part of the ICE arrests and detainments from around the state.

In our country today, we are experiencing the rise of fascism in the form of White Christian Nationalism. This evil among us is targeting immigrants along with a handful of other vulnerable identities. Christian Nationalism is, at heart, a betrayal of Christianity. The practices and policies of the current administration are deeply anti-democratic, anti-Christian and immoral. I mean this in particular today as it relates to immigration, but my statement applies more broadly to be sure. But today, let us consider how immoral and anti-Christian this current administration is with regards to immigration.

In the Bible, we can find a multitude of times when the people receive commandments from God to treat vulnerable people in a fair and just way – particularly widows and orphans, the poor, and foreigners. We heard, for example, the passage from Exodus this morning, Exodus 23:9: “Do not oppress a foreigner; you yourselves know how it feels to be foreigners, because you were foreigners in Egypt.” This passage, and the sentiment it offers, is not a minor point. It is a seminal passage for the Jewish faith. But it has also served Christian ethical thinking as well.

And the passage from Exodus is not an outlier. It is a companion to multiple other times in scripture when we hear the same commandment. Deuteronomy 26:5 and 27:19, Ezekiel 22:7, Leviticus 23:22 and 24:22, Zechariah 7:10, Malichi 3:5, and Jeramiah 7:6 – along with another dozen or so more from Deuteronomy and Leviticus and Exodus. There are a few narratives from Gensis that frame the conversation as well. Add to these the passages from the Gospel of Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount and Paul’s letter to the church in Rome along with that amazing passage from Hebrews 13:2, “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” Taken together, they frame a very clear call for Jews and Christians to treat immigrants with compassion. It is appropriate to surmise that the overall message from the Bible on this topic is that compassion for immigrants is required of us. We should not abuse or oppress immigrants, and instead we should treat them like citizens.

In fairness, I will say the Bible does contradict itself often; and on this topic we find that to be the case as well. The book of Nehemiah is deeply anti-immigrant; and some Christians – particularly conservative evangelical Christians – do love to quote from that text. Nehemiah’s context is important to notice, however. The first Babylonian exile had happened recently and the temple had been destroyed. Nehemiah took on the project of rebuilding the city walls. Part of his project was to ‘cleanse’ the population of what he deemed to be cultural pollution – meaning there had been a lot of intermarriage between Jews and other groups. Nehemiah’s purity goals and anti-immigration policies served a purpose in his mind, despite being out of step with the rest of scripture.

But again, taken as a whole, the perspective found in the book of Nehemiah is an outlier compared to what the rest of scripture says about how to treat immigrants.

Religious advisors to the current Trump administration encouraged the president to use a hardline Nehemiah interpretation of scripture’s perspective on immigration. “Nehemiah went there to build a wall to keep the wrong people out.” What they don’t say out loud is the way Nehemiah’s rigid cultural purity was at play very strongly. They like that part, but know it would not be popular among the general US population. The general US population is far more welcoming of immigrants than the relatively small subset of white evangelical Christians in the United States. Far more US Christians are familiar with and in agreement with the passages that advocate for compassion toward the foreigner and the immigrant.

And here’s the rub. These religious arguments in our contemporary political debate are disingenuous. The Christian Nationalists using these biblical arguments for anti-immigrant agenda are Nationalists first. The part about being Christian is an adjective – it is a means toward their nationalism. Their goal is not strong borders and crime prevention.

If they wanted to prevent crime, they would not be kidnapping parents as they drop their kids at school or disappearing people who show up for their immigration hearings, or raid work locations. If they really wanted to prevent crime they would be arresting the business owners who exploit the workers, not the workers. But that is not their goal. It never was. Those are merely the arguments they present as they strive to shape our country into their Christian Nationalist dream.

You may have noticed a small nuance in my language about Nehemiah being used to advocate for anti-immigration policies and the scores of other passages such as Exodus and Hebrews being used to advocate for compassion for immigrants. Immigration the way we experience it today is very different from what is being talked about in the Bible. There was no Border enforcement police or deportation processes, no naturalized citizens exactly or work visas. We are extrapolating and interpreting when we use these old texts to guide current opinion and policy.

And if we are being honest, it is worth pointing out that it is a very small number of people who would say their true goal is to be biblically accurate. Most people, if they were being honest, would admit to a different motive.

For me, my motive behind how I think about immigration is this: I believe in the power of our differences, that we are a better community when we have a variety of perspectives and experiences among us. E Pluribus Unum!  Our strength is in our compassion for those who are different, in particular for those who are vulnerable.

For others, the motive seems to be a desire gain control through fear, to dehumanize certain people, and create a monoculture – a white supremacist or Christian Nationalist dream of exclusion and power. They are using the immigration issue because immigrants are one of the easy groups to target in their culture war.

We, as Unitarian Universalists have a role to play in the face of this hate. We have a calling to light our chalice and resist tyranny, again. We must resist the fear and hatred and lies that seek to divide us. Our faith calls us to be generous and gracious with the vulnerable among us who are being attacked and abused.

I encourage you to seek truth, to protect the homeless, our trans siblings, and the undocumented among us. Refuse hatred, but call out that hate when wherever you find it. Go out and meet people, experiences the differences of the broader community. Help the marginalized and vulnerable people under attack to know they are not alone, they do belong, they are beloved. Know that you are not alone, you do belong, you are beloved.

In a world without end,
May it be so.

To Save or Savor

8-31-25

Rev. Douglas Taylor

Sermon Video: https://youtu.be/OEj-ifcUj5I

I know E.B. White as the author of beloved children’s books like Stuart Little and Charlotte’s Web. Perhaps you know him for that definitive book about English writing – Strunk and White’s Element’s of Style. Then there is a vast collection of pieces he wrote of the course of years he spent as a regular essayist for The New Yorker. One of his pithy pieces is the starting point for my reflection today. E. B. White once wrote, “I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.”

In my description of today’s worship service, I suggested that in the full quote White decides that savoring is more important. This is not true. The full quote only heightens the tension revealed in the shortened version.

The full quote was from a piece he did for the New Yorker in 1969 – after he’d won awards like the Newbury, so he had people’s attention.

“If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.” The New York Times (11 July 1969)

Do you improve or enjoy the world? Do we save or savor the world? E. B. White is not remembered as an activist, exactly. His name is on the list of amazing writers, but not really on the list of social reformers or change agents who tried save the world. He certainly spoke about the issues of the day, advocating for justice and civil rights, for democracy and virtuous principles. But he said his desire was to improve the world and one can easily argue that he did.

He lived and wrote during challenging times. But they were not only challenging, they were also, as he says, seductive. His books and his pieces in The New Yorker had an impact on our lives – but the character of his writing leads me to believe he was able to enjoy the world splendidly. E. B. White seems to have been able to both improve and enjoy the world.

How do you plan to spend your day?

White said the times in which he lived were challenging. We also live in challenging times. It  has become numbingly normal to get news about the erosion of our democracy or attacks on the rule of law perpetrated by the executive branch of our federal government. Meanwhile thugs in masks are kidnapping people on the streets under the protection of our government. Meanwhile our trans siblings are losing protections and seeing society encouraged to fear them. Meanwhile our health care system is being run by conspiracy theorists instead of scientists, our Homeland Security is run by white nationalists, and our federal intelligence agencies are actively colluding to cover up the Epstein Files in plain sight. Plus we have a war in the Ukraine and a genocide unfolding in Gaza, and ridiculous international trade wars we are paying for here from our own pocketbooks. Billionaires keep getting richer and AI companies are stealing our data and identities for their own profit.

So, yes. I do arise each morning with the desire to improve the world. Do you want to save the world too? I want to protect the immigrants and refugees, I want to fight for better healthcare and vaccines, I want to defend the rights and protections of LGBTQ people. I see our unhoused and hungry people right here in Broome County and want to do something about it.

I have this desire to improve the world, and thankfully I’m part of groups that are doing exactly that. Our congregation just co-hosted a huge community barbeque that served over 400 meals. The UUA launched a campaign around Abolition with a focus on prison – and our congregation is going to tap into that this year. Our Systemic Housing Crisis social action team is working to raise funds and awareness of local legislative changes we can make and have partnered with a community land trust to create more sustainable housing to people. The Interfaith group that I am a part of is rebuilding itself after the pandemic – we are reestablishing local interfaith relationships. And our first official action was a Peace Walk at which we talked with and listened to each other – especially about Gaza.  And so much more – we’re in the middle of this, in the thick of it together. We are acting on that desire to improve the world, responding to the challenging times in which we live.

And it can be a lot. And is anyone here feeling overwhelmed by it all? Are you feeling scattered, frustrated, and numb? Sometimes I need to check out, escape, just drop everything and stare at some patch of earth or a quiet stream for a bit – or play keepy-uppy with my granddaughter for a while.

How about you? I am reminded that the better world we are building does not need me exhausted and burned out. This is more than just a conversation about self-care or justice-fatigue. You’ve heard the argument that we need to do our justice work like a choir singing a prolonged note together – different choir members take their breath at different times so the experience of the note is sustained while the individual singers each get to breath and no one person is carrying the whole prolonged note alone. You’ve heard that metaphor perhaps?  That’s not what I’m talking about.

E. B. White said the world is seductive. And he arises with a desire to enjoy the world. To savor it. This part is not just about taking a break. It’s about pouring some of your good energy into loving the world powerfully – savoring the beauty of it, enjoying life. Do you enjoy life?

This is not simply a matter of scheduling your day to do some improving in the morning and wrap that up to have time for savoring by 3:15. There is a way in which the desire to improve the world is borne from a critical dissatisfaction with the way things are. Things could be better, let’s get to work on that. But the desire to enjoy the world is borne from a recognition that the world is beautiful right now, just as it is.

Look at that amazing sunset! Listen to this elegant piece of music. Can I describe to you this cool game I found that I’m loving? Check out my new shoes – they look great and are soooo comfortable. If all my energy is on improving what’s wrong, how much energy do I have for enjoying what’s right?

Ah! But if I am so invested in savoring what’s right – am I blocking out or in denial about what’s wrong in the world around me? How might we both save and savor? Enjoy and improve?

Here’s a trick that works against us: we live in a late-stage capitalist society that pushes us to be dissatisfied with trivialities – Does your body smell wrong? Are you performing masculinity wrong? Is your dry skin keeping you from dating the right people? What if you are embarrassing your children because you drive the wrong car or buy the wrong food!

We certainly need to step back from this manufactured dissatisfaction and instead simply love the world as it is. The world is already amazing and so are you! You don’t need to be perfect to be loved.

And if you still feel compelled to be dissatisfied, let me gently tell you: no one cares about your ear hair – but brown-skinned people are being profiled by ICE, the CDC has stopped promoting vaccines, and the Epstein Files are still being covered up.  

E. B. White did not resolve the dilemma. White intentionally kept the tension of this dual yearning to both enjoy and improve the world. He did not want us to have the solution; he wanted us to experience the tension. I was wrong when I suggested that E. B. White’s full quote revealed his conclusion that savoring is more important than saving. He didn’t say that. It was a farm and garden blog I read that said that.

Katie Spring is a health-conscious, modern young blogger who writes about tomatoes and cabbages, about women-owned seed catalogues and ‘5 ways to stay grounded and avoid burnout when while starting a farm.’ In one of her posts, she raises E. B. White’s dilemma about saving and savoring the world https://katiespring.com/save-savor-world/ and says:

“It resonated so fully within me: the pull between wanting to protect, defend, and fight for the world and wanting to laugh, explore, and sink into the world’s beauty.  The two acts appeared so separate.”

She eventually realized that the two are not separate, but intwined – and indeed they begin with savoring. “Savoring leads to saving,” she writes, “because savoring leads to love.” It’s that simple.

I found her reasoning quite sound. “Savoring leads to saving because savoring leads to love.” That reminds me of a quote I had on a t-shirt when I was a teenager in the ‘80’s. The quote is by Senegalese conservationist Baba Dioum, who wrote: “In the end we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand; and we will understand only what we are taught.” 

We will only save what we love. So my goal is to encourage you to love the world, to love you neighbors, to love those who live at the edges. To love the beauty you see in the world. “Savoring leads to saving because savoring leads to love.”

E. B. White loved the English language. He enjoyed the creation of an elegant English sentence. That one he wrote about enjoying world or improving the world was a product of his love. And it has spurred generations so far to grapple with the concept. Just in that one small example, he has improved the world.

Go read that cozy romance, play your lute, take a dance class, hug your people, make pithy protest signs, take someone on a hike to your favorite view, savor that fine meal, love your neighbor, and enjoy this world. We will only save what we love. Savor life, that you remember why it is so worth saving.

In a world without end,

May it be so.

To Know and Be Known

August 24, 2024

Rev. Douglas Taylor

Sermon video: https://youtu.be/lMpSscmevI4

Last month I was invited to preach up at First Unitarian in Rochester. It is the church where I grew up, where I attended Sunday School and youth group, where my mother was on staff and eventually was ordained to serve as their Minister of Religious Education. I’ve been invited back a few times to preach in the church where I grew up, and it is always a joy.

This summer I had the extra joy of sharing the service with a worship associate named Jenna Cohen. Jenna is a young adult who grew up here in our Binghamton congregation and as an adult is now a member up there is Rochester. Jenna snapped up the chance to be my worship associate when she saw my name on the schedule.

I mention all this to be able to tell you about a particular experience I had while I was there. They do the Open Words there service each Sunday morning in a particular way. It is now a well-worn tradition among them. The worship associate tells a personal story – they call it a “that’s why we come to church” story. Each week, someone tells a short, personal anecdote – often light-hearted, occasionally poignant – that reveals a basic, human experience of connection or insight. And the story always comes around to make the point “And isn’t that why we all come to church?”

Jenna’s story – which I am not going to share, because it’s her story, not mine to tell; if you want to you can ask Jenna some time to tell you her story – Jenna’s story was a bit of a sneak attack because while it was about her, I played a supportive role. “And my minister at the time, Rev. Douglas Taylor, supported me …”

Her conclusion, “And that’s why we come to church, isn’t it! To support each other through the good times and the hard times.” It was touching, and very relatable.

Why do you come to church? Ponder this question for a moment. I know I’ve already given away the answer I’m aiming at this morning with my title: “To Know and Be Known.” But ponder for a moment anyway and consider this question: why do you come to church?

Perhaps you show up because the people here are willing to partner with you in the work of justice – perhaps your passion is building a better world.

Perhaps you show up because you crave intellectual stimulation and the sermons are often intellectual enough to keep you showing up; or you find the classes and workshops and discussions fill that need you have to have new ideas.

Or maybe it is less academic and more about intellectual honesty – you want to you don’t have to pretend you believe a particular creed or doctrine to be allowed to participate.

Perhaps you show up because you are trans or gay and it’s just too rare to find a religious community that welcomes you. You can attend and not have to hide parts of yourself to be here.

It could be that you really like the music – the choir or our Vicky our music director, or the guest musicians we bring in to play. Or you really like to sing and you’re welcomed into the choir or just to sing along with the hymns – out loud, in public, without someone staring at you funny.

Or maybe it’s the opposite – not the music but the silence. Where else in your life do you get to sit with other people in silence for over a minute … on purpose.

Perhaps this is more personal – perhaps you come to church because you feel a little lost or you are hurting, and being in a spiritual space that accepts you is a balm for your weary soul.

Maybe you show up because it is one of the things that helps you stay sober, or because you have a friend who drags you along so they don’t feel so awkward coming alone, or because your kids need something religious and this place at least doesn’t teach them they are sinful and bad.

There are lots of reasons why a person might come to church, to this congregation. You may have several answers to the question yourself. I suspect for many of us one of the answers is about community. Everyone wants to be part of a community. We want to belong.

People do not usually join Unitarian Universalist congregations to be forgiven of their sins, or to be taught the right way to believe, or because their family expects it of them, or to get in to heaven when they die. We come – more often than not – for community, to be together with other people who share our values of respect and curiosity, compassion and justice, truth and love. Our work as a congregation is to establish ties, to build those connections, to create a congregation together.

There are many reasons why you who are here have chosen to keep showing up. You may be here for the amazing music or the uplifting message, you may be here for the stories or the rituals of candles and silence. It might be for the free coffee after the service, or something less tangible like the feeling of belonging or of being part of something larger than yourself. A very common reason is for community.

My colleague Cynthia Snavely once summed up our faith saying, ‘Connection is our holiest word.’

All around us are forces pulling us apart. We live in disconnected and alienating times. There are powers that want us isolated and lonely so as to be more easily manipulated and controlled. I don’t mean this at a conspiracy theory level – it’s just become a tactic for our consumeristic culture. And we are better consumers when we are isolated and lonely.

There is also the current politics on top of that driving us apart and keep us distracted and angry. As Unitarian Universalists we make a commitment to reconnect. Our distinctive religious work as a faith community, is the work of connection. Our work as a faith community is to create a space where people can know each other and be known.

So how do we do that? What does it look like when it is working? Here’s the rub: you have to risk something.

In our reading, Cole Arthur Riley says “To admit your desire to be known would mean acknowledging the shame asleep in you that says you aren’t worth knowing.” Our hunger to belong is a basic human trait – and as such there are countless ways that hunger is manipulated and used in the service of others. The risk is in trusting that a community like ours is not going to do that.

The way to learn if you can trust a community like this one is to test it, to risk a little or to do something with lower stakes that does not make you as vulnerable. The work of building trust and developing an authentic community of belonging is long, slow work. We’ve been at it for a long time. This congregation is far from perfect on this count, but we keep at it, we keep building and rebuilding trust together. Because we know it as our true work. 

To shift from the abstract to the specific, allow me to give examples of what I’m talking about. Low-stakes ways to risk trusting this congregation are all over the place. If you attend Sunday morning worship regularly, that is certainly a good thing. And it is not a significant risk. On the other hand, how well do we get to know each other during that hour? Certainly we are holding the silence together, we are listening to amazing music and uplifting messages together. The candles of Joys and Sorrows ritual will open some invitations to connections with the other people in the room. But most of this hour of worship is preparation time for the connections that we make outside of this hour in our congregation.

To really become known, to deepen your relationships in this congregation, it helps to do more than just show up on Sunday mornings, to take the risk of participating more. Join the choir, host a table at the Art and Gift Show or help in the kitchen, help serve food at one of the Beloved Community meals, serve as an usher or on the Caring Team. One reliable way to establish ties, and to really become a member of this community, is to serve in some fashion: to offer your gift, volunteer, be of use in some way.

The other reliable way is to receive. The announcement this morning about the Chalice Circle Sample session happening right after this service is an example of ‘receiving.’ Joining a Chalice Circle, attending a class or workshop, signing up for a book discussion: these are all ways to engage and learn something new; but often as important – they are opportunities to meet people and get to know them … and to get known.

Unitarian Universalism does not work well as a spectator religion. We are here to build community together, to participate in creating what we are as a congregation. You have a role in that process, some risk of putting yourself out there – in the giving and receiving that creates this community of connections in which we thrive.

A couple of generations back, a great Unitarian Theologian named James Luther Adams said that people come to churches for “ultimacy and intimacy.” (Robert L. Hill, The Complete Guide to Small Group Ministry: Saving the World Ten At A Time, p. 3.)

This yearning for ultimacy that Adams talks about is not done in isolation. These aren’t two separate endeavors. Seeking the ultimate is done while also seeking this sense of intimacy. We are social creatures and we need each other to be fully ourselves. Wrestling with life’s ultimate questions is best done in community. Our rich connections can lead us into the deeper meaning we long for in our living.

Our wellbeing thrives when we find spaces where we can know and be known, where we have connections with other people, where we can risk having ties that nourish us and lead us deeper into ourselves in the service of that which is greater than ourselves. And isn’t that why we come to church?

Come, let us build this congregation together, that we may all thrive.

In a world without end,

May it be so.

Prayer for Freedom                             Rev. Douglas Taylor                       3-23-25

Gracious and Loving God,
From Whom all things come and to Whom all things return

We give thanks this morning for the opportunity to again gather together as a people of faith in search of meaning and grace and a path toward justice.

Some of us here today have barely made it through the week. Life has been hard and we need the presence and prayers of good people and of thee to sustain us on our journeys.
Some of us here today have arrive excited and curious, looking for new ideas and new opportunities to connect and to build something good and beautiful.
Some of us here today have heavy hearts for the suffer happening just beyond our front doors, for the poor, the immigrant, the incarcerated, the unhoused, the disenfranchised and disempowered.

We gather this morning as Unitarian Universalists seeking freedom and liberation for ourselves and for all people. We gather to be co-creators of a sacred space together guided by the deep values of our faith.
We recognize that a faith like ours needs to be enacted, it needs to be lived in action.
We know that freedom for one of us needs the freedom of all of us; that the freedom of our faith community needs the freedom of all the faith communities

We hear our own cries for relief amid our struggles are mingled and blended with the cries of immigrants like those who build this city years ago, and the immigrants who continue to show up today. It is the same cry from people incarcerated & dying in our county jail. It is the same cry from our transgender siblings and from people of color and from the poor and from all those abused and marginalized in our society today.

Hear our cries, oh God, be with us in our difficulties.
Help us to find the courage to face the continuing injustices of our days.
Help us to reach out from our own heartache and become partners in the transformation of our world.
Help us to know, despite the messy complexity of life, that we do not struggle alone, that liberation is possible, and that hope is a powerful response in the face of what seems impossible.

Be thou an ever-present strength on the journey, O God.
In the name of all that is holy,
May it be so.