SERMON EXCERPTS

by Reverend David Horst

The Ministry of Gifts

September 16, 2007
Based on Created and Called: Discovering Our Gifts for Abundant Living by Jean Morris Trumbauer

I wish to give each of you a gift today. Curiously, it's something you already own, and you've had it for a long time. You know a lot about it, but not everything. Sometimes it gets buried under piles of other stuff, but it's still there, waiting, fresh as the day your first received it. What is this gift I wish to give to you? Yourself.

    It's a paradox: How can you give yourself a gift you already have? Because I believe there are parts of yourself that you have not yet unwrapped and discovered; and until that all-of-you is unwrapped, you have not yet received the gift of you.

    So am I saying that I think you still have a shot to become the great American novelist, a stand-up comedian, a rock-and-roll star, or a five-star chef? Well, not exactly. For most of us our vocation is well established, and except for occasional job changes or even a career shift, we're following a trajectory that we established long ago.

    I am saying that you could certainly follow the call to write short stories or poetry, tell better jokes, wail on a guitar, or cook a fabulous meal - and so many other things that you do well and would like to do better. Draw and paint, design a website, dance, garden, knit and sew, run farther and faster, make music - even meditate and pray. It's your call - follow it!

    Each of us has gifts and gifts yet to be discovered; and when we consider our gifts, these are the sorts of things that come to mind. We know that we are never too old to pursue a new interest, develop an untapped talent, or learn a new subject.

    The gifts I want to think about with you, however, have less to do with specific talents and more about character and ways of being. Being authentic, compassionate, cooperative, creative, diplomatic, easy-going, efficient, empathetic, energetic, enthusiastic, ethical, fair, flexible, friendly, honest, humorous, inclusive, industrious, inquisitive, inspirational, introspective, open-minded, nurturing, optimistic, patient, passionate, persistent, reliable, resourceful, a team-player, tolerant, understanding, and wise.

    If you take an inventory of your gifts, and dig deeper into the gift package that is you, what gifts of character will you find? I'm certain that we all have more of these kinds of gifts that we are not aware of because we rarely have need or desire to tap these gifts. In our conversation about the ministry of gifts I want to challenge each of us to dig a little deeper and lift up those hidden gifts and, in doing so, perhaps deepen your and my faith.

    Where to begin this conversation? Let us look at is right before us: Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and the High Holy Days. It is a joyous time and a solemn time: We remember that we are created by God in God's image as God's greatest gift yet at the same time - because we are created with the power of free will - we must face the reality that we are judged by our thoughts and actions. We are perfect but incomplete....

    Even our incompleteness, our failures, and our shortcomings are part of our gift package because they clear a space for our truer character to emerge. We are each blessed and judged: A blessing makes us feel better, the judgment makes us do better. We need both.

    This paradigm of giftedness has special meaning and relevance in congregational life because we minister to each other out of our individual gifts - both specific talents and aspects of character. The understanding of gifts, the naming of those gifts, and the expression of giftedness form the foundation of the shared ministry model we are creating at the First Parish. It's not the easy way to go, but it is the faithful one.

    Who and what we are as a gathered people has its basis in the gifts we each bring. Our mission and agenda is not imposed from above, but rises out of the bodies and souls of our collective gifts. We offer no concrete doctrine, only each other to create a wholeness and richness beyond the capability of any one of us.

    Think how such the congregational model of the ministry of gifts would create stronger and more loving families, more productive and humane workplaces, better government serving the needs of all people, and even a better world where a nation's weaknesses are valued as much as its strengths rather than exploited.

    This congregation, as are all congregations in the free-faith tradition, is a group of people freely gathered, self-governing, and self-supporting -

learning and growing, worshipping and serving in ways that grow puts each person's giftedness in collective thought and action. Perhaps I overstate, but it's a model that could transform the world; but first we must make the transformation here, within these walls, and gathered in the pews and around the tables.

    I've given us some paradoxes to turn over in our minds: Giving ourselves gifts we already have. Feeling perfect but incomplete. Blessed but judged. Here's one more: Full of the wonder of ourselves yet fully humble. I've always felt that self-esteem and confidence arise not out of how smart we think we are or the gifts we possess, but from an acceptance of what we don't know and the gifts we lack....

    How fortunate we are to have the chance to begin a new year, to look back and ask forgiveness for our misdeeds and to look forward in hope and expectation. The Jewish faith and tradition, in its history and wisdom, helps us consider the gifts we have, the gifts yet undiscovered, and the gifts we lack. Oh how we desire wholeness in body, mind, and spirit; yet how quest for wholeness never ceases!

    The lesson today is that wholeness comes not only from using our talents to the fullest, but from discovering the gifts of character that we possess and discerning from them our place in the larger puzzle of creation and our contribution to the greater wealth of humankind.

The Pious and the Righteous

November 4, 2007
From the sermon series entitled "What is a Christian?"

With hundreds of others, I rallied on one side of Beacon Street at the steps to the State House. Those on the other side rallied on the other side of Beacon Street in front of the Shaw Memorial. We were the equal-marriage supporters; they were those who opposed marriage between same-sex couples - mostly Catholics, conservative Christians, and a small but hateful fringe element. The noisy city traffic, chants and taunts, protest signs, political ideology, and religious belief separated us.

    The political side of me dearly wanted our side to "win" the vote in the legislature that would kill the constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage with the sincere desire that those on the other side - the "losing' side - would be silenced once and for all and retreat to their narrow-minded communities. The religious side of me dearly wanted to find some common ground between us and them, and I felt somewhat ill at ease to be a part of such a divisive and confrontational gathering of citizens - separated both by politics and religious beliefs.

    At one point, one of my Unitarian Universalist ministerial colleagues, a well-season minister with a wry sense of humor, stood at my side and commented on the difference between our side and the other: We are the righteous, they are the pious, he laughed. I laughed along with him at his glib theological assessment, thinking that he had captured the essence of the different sides on the same-sex marriage issue.

    "Piety," in its old-fashioned sense, before the word acquired a pejorative meaning, is a virtue. A pious person's thoughts, words, and deeds demonstrate religious devotion and a spiritual quest for God. "Righteousness," too, is a virtue in the religious sense; but a righteous person has a somewhat different religious orientation: She or he is one who is considered upright, speaking and acting for the sake of justice and advocating for the sake of equality and fairness for all God's people.

    My experience on righteous side of Beacon Street in support of marriage equality prompted me think about the question, "What is a Christian?" The different beliefs and commitments of the Christians on each side of the street led them to different places. I thought it would be a clever answer to the question, "There are two kinds of Christians: The pious and the righteous." But I couldn't preach that and be intellectually honest, so I quickly dispensed with the thought that Christians could be divided into two camps as simplistic; but my experience on Beacon Street in front of the State House did open up a crucial question for me.

    Upon reflection I could see that the distinction among Christians of different persuasions is never sharp: Wherever one who calls herself or himself a Christian stands on the street or sits in the pew, he or she may feel equal parts pious and righteous: Who does not believe they stand on the side of God as they cry out for justice?

    "What is a Christian?" There are a lot of answers to this question: Roman Catholics and Protestants are still sparring over this question along with orthodox, mainline, and liberal Christians of every persuasion. Individuals and families in lower socio-economic classes probably have a different understanding of Jesus and the good news of the Gospels than wealthy and powerful Christians. Where one lives matters, too: Africans, Asians, and South Americans each embrace parts of the Gospel message that speak to their culture and politics, as well as adapting the indigenous, pre-Christian belief systems to the new, imported Christianity.

    I want to note that I intentionally did not ask the question, "Who is a Christian?" In America alone, with a broad spectrum of Christian beliefs and practices, we know that defining who is a Christian is a contentious matter - although there are some fundamentalist Christians who would be happy to do so and, what's more, would not hesitate to expel you from the Christian community if you fail to meet the criteria they have set. I say this: If you choose to be a Christian and part of the Christian community, then you are a Christian. No one has the authority or the right to exclude you or me. Jesus welcomed all believers to his table, and we should do likewise. Our fundamentalist sisters and brothers have allowed their fears and prejudices to inform their interpretation of Gospel; we liberals try, instead, to be informed by our feelings of love and hospitality.

    Our Universalist forebears, long before their consolidation with the more liberal Unitarians, faced harsh treatment for their unorthodox but scripturally grounded Christian beliefs. Following the progressive Universalist tradition, Unitarian Universalists now keep pushing the boundaries in the search for the core of Christian belief and practice so that we might lift it up and live it out.

    So the question, "Are you or are you not a Christian?" serves only to divide and estrange. As religious liberals, let us have none of that.

    Because in America our Christianity is a diverse faith, we need to ask a harder question, the more faithful question: What kind of Christian are you? Explore this question with me whether you consider yourself a Christian or a marginal Christian - and let us now be afraid of honest answers. If you are a non-Christian, let me frame the question in the subjunctive,  "What kind of Christian would you be?"

    Do you believe that there was an historical Jesus who lived in Palestine during the time of Roman rule?

    What kind of person was Jesus for you? Rabbi, teacher, healer, revolutionary, prophet, messiah?

    Do you believe that Jesus performed miracles of changing water into wine, feeding thousands with a few fishes and loaves, walking on water, calming the storms?

    Do you believe that Jesus was God in human form, the Christ?

    Do you believe that he was crucified, arisen from the dead, and ascended into heaven?

    Do you believe in the doctrine of the Trinity? The very presence of the Christ when communion is shared? The authority of the one, apostolic church to interpret scripture, set doctrine, and to carry out the ministry of Jesus? The second coming of Christ to judge the living and the dead?

    Do you believe that the Christian faith holds exclusively all of the essential truths for life and salvation? Or do you believe that the other Western religions - Judaism and Islam - also hold keys to faith?

    Do you believe that Jesus was one of the historic prophets that includes Moses, Abraham, and Muhammad and latter day prophets Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King?

    Are you a pious Christian or a righteous Christian? Or both?

    What kind of Christian are you? What kind of Christian would you be?

    We Unitarian Universalists who call ourselves Christian are more righteous than pious, and we should not be shy about bringing our religious beliefs to public life. What piety we do share is not imposed on us by an authority, but a piety nurtured by our own rational minds and faithful hearts.

    I believe each person is born into original blessing, not sin.

    I believe that God is one: An eternal, creative force in human existence and that of all life on our planet.

    I believe that Jesus was born, lived, and died a human being, one who possessed a unique and deep God-consciousness though fully human in body, mind, and feeling.

    I believe that Jesus welcomed the outcasts to him and to his table asking only that they believed in God; for me, this is the whole of his ministry and the example by which I try to live.

    I believe that Jesus lived, loved, ministered, preached, taught, and prophesied. He did so in such a way that threatened the established religious and governmental authorities.

    I believe Jesus was arrest, prosecuted, and tortured by the Roman authorities. His death and the later visions of him inspired early Christian communities to remember him and to try to live out his radical principles of equality and faith in God.

    I believe we humans are a blessing, but imperfect in a multitude of ways. We suffer now not latter for our wrongful thoughts and actions, but we have opportunities to atone for the wrongs we commit.

    I believe the creeds and doctrines applied by the later institutional church have distorted the pure message of Jesus and stifled the ongoing, creative unfolding of Christian faith.

    I believe that the Bible is open to multiple valid interpretations, and that the book is a living document created by men and women struggling to explain and make meaning of the joys and tragedies of life.

    I believe that communion is a powerful symbol of the Christian faith, commemorating the final supper Jesus shared with his disciples. The ritual sharing of the bread and wine calls us into a universal human community.

    I accept that I was raised in the Christian church and harbor within me equal parts of love and disdain from that experience; but I can be no other but a Christian and I speak most authentically from the religion of my birth. Yet I am a free-thinking Christian, resisting the imposition of any creed or doctrine. I am a Protestant who is still protesting.

    I believe that religious belief and faith development are best nurtured in religious community of free-thinking, faithful people.

    I believe in an embracing Christianity that accepts believers of many kinds and engages sincerely with people of other faith traditions.

    I believe the only creed I can accept and follow is the creed I impose upon myself.

    I fear my time of dying but take comfort in the mystery of death, trusting that a time of peace will follow my life as it will for all people.

    These are my beliefs, the basis of my Christian piety. They lead me, I trust, on the path of righteousness and instill in me a love of service, justice, kindness, and equality in a world governed by the politics of an imperfect but God-trusting people.

    I believe, as a good Christian, that gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people deserve the same rights and privileges as straight people.

    As a good Christian, I believe that marginalized people in our society - women, people of color, children, immigrants, the impoverished, the less educated - must be given the same opportunities of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as people of privilege and wealth.

    I believe that food, housing, and healthcare are rights for all people and not privileges for a few.

    I believe that a capitalist system needs regulation to reduce the huge gaps in earnings and benefits between the rich and the poor.

    I believe war is an anathema to core Christian beliefs, and that we must be in dialogue with our enemies instead of seeking to kill them.

    I believe that the earth and all of its riches are a gift to humankind, entrusted to our care and stewardship.

    What kind of Christian am I? I'm a work-in-progress Christian. I take the responsibility to define who I am, say what I believe, and choose how I will live. No one has the power or right to define me.

    Are there other Christians who would challenge my liberal Christian beliefs and commitments? Yes, but I'll continue to stand on the righteous side of the street as long as I'm able.

    The question for all those who can be no other than Christian is the same: What kind of Christian are you?

    For those who choose to stay in the struggle, for those who wish to be voices of reason and reform, for those who have the courage to say who they are and what they believe this is a journey worth taking - even with its many doubts and dead-ends. We share one thing all Christians share: The hope for a better world, made in the image of love and embracing all people of God and faith.

When Miracles Happen

December 9, 2007
A Celebration of Hanukkah

I don't believe in miracles - but I know they happen! I know miracles happen because I've seen them, yet I cannot believe in them.

    I've seen someone endure illness and injury and not only heal but live with renewed purpose and vigor. A great miracle happened there.

    I've seen someone lose their spouse after a long marriage and yet this person was able to continue to lead a life of hope and meaning. A great miracle happened there.

    I've seen ordinary people show extraordinary courage in the face of a natural disaster. A great miracle happened there.

    I've seen people achieve justice and equality for their lives by patiently but persistently defying the forces of bigotry and hate. A great miracle happened there.

    I've seen a child who came from the most deprived background learn and grow and become a loving adult. A great miracle happened there.

    I know great miracles happen, but cannot believe in them because I don't know "how" or "why" they happen. Does a supernatural force cause miracles? I don't believe in the supernatural. Is it God? I believe in God, but "what" or "who" is God? For me God is pure mystery, and invoking "God" is not an explanation.

    Yet miracles happen. I've had one or two in my life and you may be able to think of at least one in your life. Perhaps you've been through some struggle and are now living right in the wonder of a miracle right now.

    When miracles happen we dearly want to know why and how. That's human nature - to want to explain everything even when we really cannot. We have inquiring minds, we seek rational explanations, and we crave understanding.

    I might suggest, instead, that we learn to accept the miracles in our lives even if we cannot understand them - even if we cannot believe in them. Now I must quickly add that acceptance is not the same as resignation. Acceptance is not a passive stance, but an intention of the heart. Acceptance draws on our deepest, inexpressible faith - and there lurks the mysterious but true God.

    Today I read the story of the Maccabees overcoming tremendous odds to triumph over the Greek occupying forces. A great miracle happened there.

    I read of the small amount of consecrated oil that sustained a candle for eight days following the rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem. A great miracle happened there.

    I read the story of the survival of the Jewish people and the Jewish faith - and, subsequently, the Christian movement that sprang from it - a miracle that keeps happening against the odds.

    The miracle of Hanukkah is one of the touchstone stories for the Jews and, I think, should be a touchstone for Christians and Muslims. You see, the Israelites were fighting for their radical belief in the one God against the Greek religion and its pantheon of gods. The Israelites - or at least their militant wing - refused to accept the encroaching, universal faith of the Greeks and clung to their old ways. The belief in one God is unifying belief of all the monotheistic traditions, and the Maccabees did not allow this belief to succumb to the great military power and cultural domination of the Greeks.

    When Jews give thanks and praise to "the miracle of Hanukkah," they are proclaiming the miracle of the oil; but the defeat of the Greek army by a band of Jewish militants is no less a miracle. They attributed these miraculous events to the power of their God over the pagan gods of the Greeks - and that was sufficient.

    Seeing this miracle through our present-day eyes - and in full awareness of pluralistic religious world in which we live - we can honor the particular Jewish content and context of the Hanukkah miracle while expanding its meaning so that it speaks to the larger world of monotheistic religions of Jews, Christians, and Muslims. We must not ever remove the Hanukkah story from its Jewish context, but we may enlarge it so that a great story of one religion helps inform them all.

    Understanding miracles is a question that all of our western traditions struggle with - and as I began my remarks, a question that often seems unanswerable in our personal lives.

    Yes, when a miracle happens it's comforting to say, "God did this" for me or for my people. We exclaim, "Thank God," because there is really nothing else to say! More than this, attributing miracles to God is statement of faith - and I make no argument against it.

    Yet in our post-modern, religiously pluralistic, politically volatile world, we need to say more: Invoking "God" does not end the conversation nor fully answer the question. "God" invites more conversation and more questions.

    For myself, I don't wish to have miracles explained. I want to be in awe of them, astonished by them, and humbled by them. I want my praise and thanksgiving to be the silence - when words cannot express feelings arising from my heart of hearts.

    Miracles happen to ordinary people - you and me -in the ordinary occurrences of everyday: Overcoming sickness, injury, loss, and poverty. Displaying extraordinary courage during times of disaster. Standing with unwavering commitment for justice and fairness. As the Jews fought for their God against the opposing forces, we fight for ours against the vagaries and tragedies of life.

    So I can't help but conclude that it is in the struggle that miracles happen - miracles come as unexpected gifts in times of need to all people of faith, to all people who choose God, to all people who choose life.

    Miracles happen. Let us accept them, live in wonder of them, and express our deepest thanks for them. The miracle of Hanukkah teaches this to Jews and to all people of faith. And in the miracles of our own lives we experience most intensely and learn so deeply that struggle and faith are inseparable.

    Whether or not you and I believe in miracles, we know they happen - in the great story of human history and in the unfolding story of our own lives.