Keep Bright the Flame
Were you to visit any one of the more than 1,000 Unitarian Universalist congregations in America this morning, you would be virtually assured of finding two elements of worship common to all of them. Every one of our UU congregations, large, small, and in between, has a style and personality unique unto itself. When it comes to UU congregations, Brooklyn is not Chicago is not Boston is not San Francisco.
Oh, for the most part you find the similar predominant UU personalities and spiritual kinfolk in all of them, and they feel quickly familiar to each other. But, some of our congregations are formal and traditional, and some are devotedly informal; some are more theistic and some are decidedly Humanist and non-liturgical in manner and mode of worship. But almost every one of these independent congregations now shares two elements in common with the Sunday gatherings in all the others: we almost all use the same UUA Hymnbook, Singing The Living Tradition, and we almost all light the Flaming Chalice, which in the last generation, has become emblematic of our liberal faith.
Common as it is now, it may surprise newcomers to learn that when I was ordained thirty years ago this Spring , the Flaming Chalice was not at all universally adapted in UU worship services, even though the symbol itself had been around since WWII. It has a proud history, this symbol of ours.
In the dark days of 1939 as the storm clouds gathered over Nazi Europe, Martha Sharp and her husband, the Rev. Waitstill Sharp, went on behalf of the American Unitarian Association on a mission to help aid tens of thousands of refugees, including many intellectuals, displaced by Germany’s 1938 invasion of Czechoslovakia.
After the group was officially founded as the Unitarian Service Committee in May 1940, its first act was to assign the Sharps to go the Southern France to try to provide what help they could to the crowds of refugees fleeing southward ahead of the Nazi army, where shortages of shelter and food, especially milk, were severe. Disease was rampant. (see Boston Globe article on Martha Sharp Cogan, Dec. 6, 1990.)
Working with a refugee network in Marseilles and Lisbon, Martha Sharp arranged for the delivery of 12 tons of milk products to hungry children. She also resolved to obtain safe passage for as many children as she could to America.
The new Service Committee’s activities in Europe gradually gained momentum through the war years. Medical units and social workers were sent to France, and USC centers were established in Paris, Marseilles, and later in Lisbon and Geneva. The Committee worked with the Red Cross and the American Friends Service Committee to distribute medical and sanitary supplies in various internment camps in Southern France. A hospital for Spanish refugees in Toulouse operated under Unitarian supervision, as did a free dental clinic for refugees in Marseilles. Orthopedic and dental work for 3000 interned children in camps led to the founding of Service Committee kindergartens and primary schools in Central France.
The Service Committee’s Flaming Chalice symbol, now common in UU churches everywhere, came to represent for European refugees the Unitarian Service Committee’s openness to all races, creeds, and nationalities. In the immense devastation of Europe immediately after the war, Service Committee projects were organized in Italy, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Hungary, Spain, and Portugal. In the bombed out cities of Europe, with millions of refugees searching for safe haven, warm clothing ,a bit a food and medicine, the flag of the Unitarian Service Committee – a red banner with a Flaming Chalice symbol – came to be recognized by refugees as a place of safety and sanctuary in the story.
[For background on the USC's work in wartime Europe, see Haim Genizi's paper, Christian Charity: The Unitarian Service Committee's Relief Activities On Behalf Of Refugees From Nazism, 1940-45, published in Holocaust and Genocide Studies, vol.2, No.2, pp. 261-276, 1987.]
With such a proud history behind it, little wonder why the Flaming Chalice has gradually come to be our fondest emblem for our UU faith.
This weekend our congregation here in Brooklyn proudly celebrates the 175th anniversary of our founding. It was in 1833 that the nine founding families of this congregation, tired of treading across the river to Manhattan to attend worship every Sunday, decided to form their own Unitarian congregation here in Brooklyn Heights. Within ten years they bought this present piece of prime property, hired architect Minard Lefevre, and constructed this gorgeous brownstone neo-gothic Sanctuary in 1844 for the grand sum of $35,000. And ever since, here we have gathered of a Sunday morning, to rekindle the flame of our liberal faith, to preach and to celebrate a religious sensibility that is unbounded by doctrine or dogma, that welcomes all, that discriminates against none.
When the histories of congregations like ours are written, when their stories are told and recorded for posterity, the chapters of such histories are most easily divided by major events or crises, by leading personalities, dominant issues, the years of great success or wounding disappointments. That was the year we built a new wing or bought the property, these were the ministers whose visions were most inspired, those were the beloved families who stood firm in the winds of change.
But however the history might be bookmarked by era or filed by important events or determined by certain leaders, one can never fully understand the complete story of a congregation like ours or appreciate the true accomplishment of its longevity, unless first you appreciate the constancy of vision and the continuance of support that it takes to keep firm its foundation and keep bright the flame of its faith.
Consider for a moment, that 175 years translates to more than 9,100 consecutive Sunday mornings that people have come through our doors to worship in this congregation. For 175 years without interruption, through good times and lean, in years of peace and years of war, families have occupied these pews, children have grown up in these Sunday school classes, danced through Christmas pageants, shared in dinners, worn out the pages of many editions of Unitarian hymnals. Choirs and choral masters, organists and soloists have left their glorious echoes resounding in these rafters. Generations of babies have been named in this chancel, couples have exchanged their vows in this place, families and friends have wept in grief for their loved ones in this house.
Twelve senior ministers have carried the burden and privilege of preaching from this pulpit year after year to some of Brooklyn’s most accomplished and formidable citizens. Young assistant and associate ministers have learned their profession here. Good works and justice projects were conceived and nurtured in this house. Protests and social alliances were born and formulated here. Passionate theological arguments and serious social justice debates have been enjoined here. War protesters, pacifists, and draft resisters took sanctuary under this roof. Women rights advocates found their voices here, social outcasts found unusual welcome in these rooms.
Oh, it’s natural enough for us to boast a bit on this auspicious birthday of our founding. We can be forgiven a bit of self-pride as we look back over the years and hold up for admiration a few of the giants, the saints, and larger-than-life leaders who made the Church of the Savior, the First Unitarian Congregational Society in Brooklyn their home once upon a time. Our line of ministers included some of the most renowned Unitarian preachers of the 19th and 20th centuries, including one who became President of the American Unitarian Association. And lay leaders of this congregation included some of the most important and influential citizens of New York. There is not a single great cultural institution in Brooklyn, from the Brooklyn Museum to the Brooklyn Academy of Music to the Botanical Gardens to Greenwood Cemetery, that was not either founded or shaped by members of this historic congregation. It is all true and worthy of note.
And I say to you, as significant and noteworthy as these great leaders and their accomplishments and monuments are, no matter whose pictures we may honor on these walls, they are but a representative shining few of the much larger beloved community who have comprised this congregation year after year, season after season, week after week; who have endowed this place not only with their financial gifts, but further with their vision, their faith, the fondest hopes and fervent loyalties. In these pews, where you sit today, literally thousands have come before you, and it is their cloud of witness that imbues this house with strength and honor through all these years.
Last night and later this afternoon at 3 o’clock, our celebrations will center on this loving history. But this morning I appeal to all of us who are the current members and friends of this congregation to remember that now it is given to us to write whatever history our congregation will live out in the years ahead. For this is the first day of our second 175 years, today begins our Stewardship Campaign for 2009, and lest you think that your personal support of this congregation and your presence here does not matter, I say to you this morning that it has never mattered more than it does right now.
I say to you that it matters, very much, for example, that there exists at least one liberal church in Brooklyn where it is acceptable to question the precepts and the self-convinced, self-righteous teachings of medieval belief systems that claim to be liberal while still insisting on separating the world into the saved and the unsaved. I suggest to you that it matters very much that there exists a church in Brooklyn that does not condemn or exclude Gay and Lesbian and transgender people from their full rightful and unapologetic place in the community. Ask anyone who has experienced that disrespect of their personhood if it matters that this is a Welcoming Congregation.
Ask the young parents in our midst, faced with raising their children in a world that is virtually oblivious to protecting the innocence of children from a daily assault on their young spirits and minds and bodies – ask our young parents if it matters… whether we make a place for children in our gatherings; whether we value a religious education centered on imparting to children self-respect, respect of others, freedom, reason, tolerance and love; that opts for the religious education of children, not indoctrination.
Ask the families of our Youth Group if it matters that we give the extraordinary teens of our church a place in the circle that is safe, caring, that challenges them to think, to find ways to be of service, and that is supportive of their friendships, their growth, and their fun. Ask the teens themselves if it matters what you make possible for them in such a church.
I think it matters a lot… that quality pastoral care be available to all of us in times of illness, crisis, or death. For memorial services, for weddings, for naming our children, for counseling. It matters that our church have the best ministry team, lay and professional, that we can provide.
It matters that Sunday worship services inspire, lift, and nurture us with strong preaching, outstanding music and choir offerings, and thoughtful liturgy. It matters that continuing religious education programs and small groups give us opportunity to develop as spiritual searchers. It matters that this congregation be a place where all are encouraged to grow, change, deepen, and explore concerns of the spirit and the mind.
All these things happen at First Unitarian, they’ve been part of what we do in this place for 9,100 consecutive weeks and still counting, they happen here because people like you and your family and the good friends you see sitting around you this morning care enough to make sure that this venerable old congregation remains empowered, remains strong, remains viable.
Over the next few weeks, we’re going to come to you and we’re going to ask you once again – as we do every year – to consider your ability to make a financial pledge to support the church for the year ahead. God knows this is not an easy year to raise money, even for the best of causes, even for the noblest of non-profit institutions. If your household is like mine, you’ll need to find ways to be more prudent in the year ahead. We all of us have to consider that, no doubt about it.
But here’s the thing, folks. If I didn’t believe with my heart and soul that what this congregation stands for is something that our city, our society, and our world desperately needs right now – that this liberal faith of ours makes such a difference in so many lives year after year – if I didn’t believe that myself, if I didn’t see it in the folks I work with here every week, then I might not be able to ask you what I’m going to ask you this morning.
Because I’m going ask you to take a little step of faith with me in this stewardship effort of ours this year. I’m asking you to join with me in making something of a counter-intuitive pledge of support to the church this year.
Let me explain a bit. See, if you’re like me and you’re listening to the news every night and hearing how awful our economy is doing, your inclination, your reflex, is to think maybe you need to pull back in your giving to the church this year, and your tendency is to base your church pledge on that fear rather than on faith this year. That’s what I caught myself thinking the other night, and I realized that is exactly what I don’t want to do with my church.
Because if that’s what all of us do this year, cut back or barely stay even with our pledges this year based on our fears that somehow our individual households might all collapse from giving such huge pledges to our church this year, then the church that we claim to love here is up against it for sure. We simply can’t operate that way.
So I’ve decided, call me crazy, that what I need to do is give a counter-intuitive pledge this year. I’m not cutting my pledge, and I’m not staying the same. I’m increasing my pledge. I’ll find somewhere else in our family budget to save or cut back, but I’m not pledging to my church based on fear, not this year and not ever. I’m pledging to my church based on faith. I’m pledging on what I believe in it, on what I love about this place, on what I respect here, on what I want to see thrive here. I’m taking a little step of faith. And I’m asking you all to do the same with me.
I’m asking you to increase your pledges this year, by however much you can, even if it is by a small amount, even if it taxes your courage more than your bank account to do so, increase your pledge based on your faith in this place – because that’s the only way this little congregation will have any future here at all.
Many a congregation has died of fear alone. Congregations live on faith. Thus it has always been. Help us keep bright the flame, won’t you?
As we get ready for our 175th celebration and Jude Geiger’s Ordination this afternoon, the words of the old hymn keep reverberating in my mind: “What they dreamed be ours to do; hope their hopes and seal them true.” Hope to see most of you back here at 3 o’clock.
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