Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church

The Empty Chair:

Reflections on UU Christianity

November 12, 2006

Call to Worship (Jean Newland)

This morning, we ask you to look with us at Jesus of Nazareth. Unitarian Universalists more often seek inspiration from other religious figures, such as Buddha. There is a great deal of baggage for many us, where Jesus and Christianity is concerned. In his name, many horrific events have occurred, and are occurring: the Inquisition, witch burnings, cross burnings, gay bashings. The list seems endless. Heaped on top of these, is the oppressive nature of catechisms and rigid dogmas.

But Jesus never sought this new faith. He was first and foremost a Jew. Shortly before his birth, the Romans quelled an uprising in Galilee and Samaria by crucifying 2000 and selling the rest into slavery. As a child, he would have lived in the same grueling poverty that was experienced by most Jews of this era. Knowing what exists in our own modern world with these conditions, he might as easily have been a terrorist. Instead, he spoke and acted with Love in this dark age. He drew on his extraordinary connection to his God, to seek to reform Judaism peacefully from within. Many biblical scholars believe that this man called by so many, Jesus Christ, Risen Lord, would have preferred simply to be Rabbi Jesus.

Responsive Reading: The Journey (Dave Dawson)

When I was a young child I learned of Jesus the Good Shepherd who cared enough for all of his sheep to go out and search for one lost sheep until he found it. I felt love and hope.

Let us find love and hope in our relationships together.

When I got older I learned this Jesus was far more complicated than that. I learned he was God and human at the same time and that there was another part of him or God known as the Holy Spirit. I also learned about doctrines that said I was born a sinner and that if I didn’t repent of my sins I would burn in this place called Hell for eternity. As near as I could tell I was in great danger as most everything I thought about was sinful as an adolescent. I felt guilt, fear and confusion a lot.

Let us find love, hope and understanding in our relationships together.

I also learned that all those who did not believe exactly what my church taught were also going to Hell and were to be prayed for and witnessed to in order to save their souls. I felt intolerance and separation.

Let us find love, hope, understanding and acceptance in our relationships together.

I went on an extended journey away from my church choosing instead to try out various forms of spiritual practice that left me feeling even more confused and lost.

Let us be found.

I went to a church where the minister was a Universalist and spoke about the Velveteen Rabbit who was held and loved so much that its eyes fell off and its velvety surface became smooth and shiny. This minister also read passages from the Bible and talked about living in the here and now and making the world a better place for all of us to live. Once again I felt hope.

Let us find love and hope in our relationships together.

In my new church I learned about the rich traditions of Universalism and Unitarianism and their deep roots in Christianity. I began again to embrace the image of Jesus the Good Shepherd who loves ALL the sheep. This Jesus was a very wise Jewish Rabbi. He was a teacher who condemned no one except those who were hypocrites by forcing creeds and dogmas onto those around them. I felt joy and a deeper understanding of this Rabbi Jesus the Good Shepard.

Let us find love, hope, joy and understanding in our relationships together.

I continue to go deeper in my understanding of what it means to be Christian in a world of incredible religious diversity. I find my church to be a microcosm of the larger world. I want more than anything to follow the leadership and teachings of Rabbi Jesus the Good Sheppard right here in this place called Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church. I want more than anything to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).

Let us find love, hope, joy, understanding and acceptance in our relationships together. Let us be transformed by the power of these relationships and the Spirit of Life that is in and around us all.

Blessed be.

Reflections Eleanor May

I am a sixth generation Unitarian, a first generation UU. I was christened (yes, it was called that in those days, even though it was a service not unlike that of today) at the First Parish in Groton, Massachusetts, wearing the christening dress worn by my Grandfather when he was christened at the First Parish in Dorchester in 1861. My father also was christened there in 1898. Earlier generations of Mays were christened in Boston at First Church, Church of the Disciples, or Kings Chapel.

I joined both the parish and the church in Groton when I was 16. After college, I began attending First Parish in Cambridge, where I joined both the church and the parish a few years later. In Cambridge, I was a member of the Board for a time, but the task that I am proudest of is the pulpit committee who called Ralph Norman Helverson. He is still a friend of mine, whom I saw when in NE last month.

After I moved to Washington, I attended All Souls Church – after having shopped most of the suburban UU churches and found each to be less Christian than I wanted. When I moved to Charlottesville, I had the same reaction to TJMC. So my spirituality was supported and developed by reading and by hiking the Appalachian Trail.

After I retired I felt a need for more structure in my religion. I visited many churches but found that I truly was a “cradle” Unitarian, therefore, I started attending TJMC. The first Sunday I came the sanctuary was very crowded, there were six ministers, and a triple choir. But the special efforts were in celebration of the 50^th anniversary of the founding of TJMC, rather than my presence. Even so, I decided that if that much was done for me I needed to come again.

As you know my involvement in the administration of TJMC has been broad. The activity that is my present mainstay is the Christian Fellowship. Yes, I am, and have been all my life a UU Christian – I wish that it was stated the other way, that is a Christian UU, but this is what it was named many years ago.

So, where am I? Or maybe the question is Who am I? An important event on my spiritual journey was the Passion Play at Oberamaugau in 2000, where after heavy rain, the sun came out just as Jesus was being lifted on the cross. I was deeply moved and inspired by this. Yes, this is a story written many years after Jesus died, by those who felt he was a god. But seeing the last week of Christ’s life acted out in that setting was an experience that served to confirm and support my liberal Christian beliefs.

Today, sometimes I am comfortable with the frequently mindless rituals of Roman Catholic and Episcopalian services, and of communion. I love the open enthusiasm, singing, involvement, and especially the forgiving at a Black Baptist service. Also, I am very inspired at Friends meetings and on our labyrinth – plus other special places such as The Cathedral of the Pines, Star Island and others. At all these locations my liberal UU Christianity is supported and expanded.

My main support at TJMC is our Thursday evening meetings. And of course, the information and support of the larger group. Very special experiences are the annual Revivals, there have been six, I am just back from my third, at the Fourth Universalist Society in New York City. Revivals have become important – in fact essential – to me and my spirituality. Not only the discussions, both formal and informal, speakers, services, praying, and meditation, but also the healing services, (I first experienced healing here at TJMC at a Sunday evening Metropolitan Church service, where I went to avail myself of the opportunity to hear Kathleen Rolenz.)

I am blessed at Revival by being with a group of people while not identically minded, all are liberal Christians and respects and honor others for this. I am truly revived, by last weekend.

Reflections Jeanne-Marie Stevens

I was raised in a Roman Catholic family, and in high school I began to question whether the Catholic Church was the place for me. Despite my many disagreements with the Catholic Church’s views, I continued to be a part of the Church for quite some time, as I still received spiritual nourishment when I attended Mass. In my second year of college I began to actively look for a denomination whose beliefs more closely mirrored mine. I wanted a church whose views would not limit my own. My search for a new church home was not fruitful for some time.

It wasn’t until I moved to Charlottesville that I first heard of Unitarian Universalism. Before then, I had no idea that there exists a denomination that encourages freedom of belief. I was incredibly excited to find a church that shares my values and at the same time encourages me to think independently. Attending my first service here at TJMC was an incredible experience for me. I breathed in the love and the joy of this community, and was invigorated by the fresh thoughts shared during the service. I had a glimpse of what it was like to truly be at home in a church.

After attending TJMC services for some time and researching Unitarian Universalism on my own, I was ready to sign TJMC’s membership book and officially declare myself a UU. That was the easy part. The difficult part was making peace with my Christian past.

After I officially left the Catholic Church I began to feel a great deal of anger towards Christianity. After finally finding a denomination that accepts me for who I am, instead of trying to shape me into someone I’m not, I started to feel truly wronged by Christianity. I deeply resented all of the years I’d spent being told what to do and what to think. As I started looking at Christianity from outside of its churches, I began to think that the religious beliefs that Christian churches espouse were completely ridiculous. I was and still am good friends with a few devout Catholics, and I wondered how such intelligent and thoughtful people could actually believe that a man rose from the dead? How could my otherwise compassionate and loving friends condemn fellow human beings based on their sexual orientation? I was infuriated! I distanced myself as much as possible from Christianity.

When I first learned that TJMC has a Christian Fellowship, I remember thinking that it was completely hypocritical for a UU to want to also be a Christian. For the first two years that I was a part of this church, I deliberately stayed home on Sundays when the Christian Fellowship led their annual service. Yet here I am now, speaking as a member of a Christian fellowship that has become a very important part of my life.

Over time I began to miss certain aspects of my Christian upbringing. I missed sharing long periods of prayer in community. I missed the connection with others and the connection with the spirit within me that comes when I pray among friends. I also missed reading the Bible passages and singing the Christian songs that I grew up with. When I read certain verses or hear certain songs that speak to Jesus’ message of love and of faith, I find the same comfort and strength that these words have brought me for many years.

Another aspect of my Christian past that I missed was having small-group fellowship. I love connecting with the Christian Fellowship; it’s a great community-within-a-community. At TJMC we are fortunate to have many groups that allow us to connect more deeply with members of our church. The Christian Fellowship is the worship group that fits me best.

I am no longer a Christian; I consider myself a Unitarian Universalist, first and foremost. I cherish certain parts of my Christian past, and one of the things that I love about Unitarian Universalism is that we invite everyone to practice religion in whichever ways best meet their needs. I am thankful for my Christian upbringing, and grateful that I’ve found a community where I can welcome all of my religious parts.

Reflections Mary Anna Dunn

Rather than run through the phases of my spiritual growth, which I have done here before, I want to begin with a single point of intersection in my life, the point at which as a Unitarian Universalist, I realized I needed something more…and that I needed to find that something more within, not outside of our community. Finding that required a certain degree of flexibility -- an awareness that I did not have need a perfect fit to find a place to grow. Indeed, if you already have a perfect fit, you have no need for growth.

Some of you may remember that about eight years ago, I co-chaired an anti-poverty task force, which led a church wide effort to co-sponsor a Habitat House. We were well over halfway to the deadline and well under halfway towards our fundraising goals and I was panicked. Then, the thought floated through my mind, “We will raise the money. We are doing god’s work.” I drove home and found a large check in the mail. I went inside and had two messages promising large sums of money. I took the check to the church, where I was handed two more very large checks. As I recall, the total that very day approached a thousand dollars. Ecstatic, I blurted out to everyone in the church office, “I was panicking but then I realized, we are doing god’s work and we will raise the money.” My joyful outburst met icy silence and reproachful glares.

That night, I told Mike, “I really need to feel safe using the religious language that has meaning for me. I think I should try the Christian Fellowship, but I am not a Christian.” Eight years later, I am still a very regular member of the Christian Fellowship and I still am not a Christian. I have searched my heart openly and prayerfully and I have found that I cannot be true to myself and single out any one creed as my own. Yet, through regular and mutually respectful participation in the religious practices of this group, my spiritual life has grown and deepened to an extent that astonishes me. I think of this group as the well I drink from. For me, it is not the name of a faith that matters, it is the practice of faith and even the occasional practice of doubt in the company of other seekers who join me, support me, and oft times prod and challenge me. My faith is not exactly the same, yet in my faith I have found here that I am never alone.

Homily: Rev. Leslie Takahashi Morris

Let us begin with a reading from the Christian Gospel of John:

A Samaritan woman came to draw water and Jesus said to her, "Give me a drink.""  (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.)  The Samaritan woman said to him, "How is it that you, a Jew, asks a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?"  (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.)  Jesus answered her, "If you knew that gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, "Give me a drink," you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water."  The woman said to him, "Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep.  Where do you get that living water?  Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks, drank from it?"  Jesus said to her, "Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.  The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life."  The woman said to him, "Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty."

Today’s service is called the empty chair. When our Christian Fellowship meets, they keep an actual chair vacant in their circle, in the way of covenant groups, to symbolize that their circle is always ready to welcome another. The chair is, metaphorically, also for Jesus. They joke that the chair is also for Jesus—and when I arrived at their meeting last month I committed the ultimate faux pas of sitting on Jesus. Today, I ask in a more serious way, how do we as a church community, which aspires to be radically welcoming, also welcome Jesus, our venerated religious ancestor?

In the liberal Christian—and also in the Jewish traditions—scriptural study invites you to wrestle your own truths from the time-worn words. So it is with the passage Christian fellowship member Barry Taylor picked. I have been standing by that well, impressed that once again the radical Jesus, a reformer who broke the taboos of his time is talking to a Samaritan, someone his religion’s authorities have branded as inferior. And he is not only speaking to her, he is offering her the most important truth he knows, he is entrusting her with it, expecting that she is capable of receiving it. He accepts her questions and her skepticism, and even banters a bit with her. And then, master of language and metaphor as he is, he poses to her a nuanced, spiritual riddle and invites her to seek meaning in the paradoxical symbol of “living water.”

Jesus often used symbols, especially those that speak of a future promise. Symbols, national symbols, have been the focus of the first grade in Charlottesville this month. First a unit on the pledge of allegiance and this week, my six-year-old informed me, lessons on “patriotic things.” He sang himself to sleep one night with the national anthem. He salutes me when I tell him it is bath time. For me, knowing that that his grandfather, younger than Liam is now, was locked away with his family because of his race and an excess of nationalism, this is difficult. I was brought up to fear the sight of an American flag. I live in a state that has turned a Bill of Rights into a Bill of Restrictions. Yet my son is a citizen of the United States and I am too. I don’t want him to feel second-class the way I felt growing up, the way my father and his family felt. I want him to feel the pride of an identity and the responsibility to make the dream real for everyone.

As one raised outside of Christianity, I know the cost of cultural illiteracy. As with many of our youth today, I was alienated from literature, music and art because I did not know the scriptural stories upon which it was based. I had trouble with popular culture as well. As a child I loved Peter, Paul and Mary but one song made no sense. The one about Jesus meeting a woman at the well?.... I want my children—our children—to know enough to be able to learn, and to question.

Jesus, the Jewish reformer, is a heretic and a questioner seeking not to abandon his religious heritage as Jacob’s descendent: instead, to reclaim it. Unitarian and Universalist beliefs began by questioning certain orthodox Christian views, questioning them not as outsiders, rather as devout Christians seeking to be closer to God and to a truer interpretation of “the leadership of Jesus.” Our more expansive questioning grew out of those initial heresies the way the chalice you see on the cover of your order of service grew out of the Universalist “off-center cross.”

Religion is that which binds together, which nurtures spirit or breath. Religion and community, which Jesus also modeled, embrace a hope larger than the day to day. Sustenance is what we all seek as religious people, not necessarily the key to a literal eternal life, but something to nourish and renew us. To find that sort of drink requires drawing from deep wells, requires sustained practice in a committed community, requires a new willingness to break out of one’s learned boundaries the way Jesus does when he speaks to the Samaritan. And living water flows and changes, is not stagnant.

One of the saddest tasks I have as your minister is to watch members leave because they want depth and discipline in their religion and think they can’t find it here. Sometimes I talk with people who wonder why it is more comfortable to be a Unitarian Universalist in a deep Buddhist practice but not a deep Christian one. Our speakers this morning have shared deep, personal journeys, no doubt with some trepidation that others might not be able to hear them above a stagnant sense of Christianity or Jesus. No one path is for all and no one path is sacred, even the path of rationality and scientific inquiry for one has only to think of the Tuskegee syphilis experiments on African Americans or the development of weaponry capable of a million Apocalypses to see this.

I do not consider myself a Unitarian Universalist Christian because I think the term redundant. Christianity is part of our religious heritage and I am not willing to relinquish it to those who would use it as a bludgeon. Just as I despise blind nationalism, I am afraid of religion without thought, stagnation in any sense—including liberal group-think. I want my son to be a fully engaged citizen of this world and to help us all realize the dream. And I want my religion to claim its full pedigree and not to deny it or me its full inheritance.

Gospel means good news and we have a radical message of welcome and good news for anyone ready to accept the rigors of living waters, to sit down in that chair ad join our circle. And what about that “spring of water gushing up to eternal life?” Some would take that as a promise of another world. I take it as a promise not to relinquish our dreams of more perfect unions in this one. May we be the ones to make it so. Amen.

Benediction

We close with these words from Hebrews 11:1

Faith is the giving substance to things hoped for.