“A New Year of Spiritual Depth and Meaning”

Call to Community by Rev. Susan Karlson

(in response to the inflammatory anti-Muslim film released last week and the violence that killed the US ambassador and others in Libya and the other families and loved ones suffering in the wake of this horrific sorrow)

Out of homes and neighborhoods,

Automobiles and buses,

We come, we walk, perhaps we run.

Into this space made sacred by our dreams and

Made whole by our visions, we come

On this day of a virtual new year.

O Spirit of Life and Love, open our hearts

that we might feel compassion

For the families who lost their loved ones

Through violence this week.

Open our minds that we might realize

That our characterizations and our accusations

Of others different from us

can cause great harm

In the fabric of the web of life.

Open our spirits that we might share with those

Suffering and those in shock and outrage.

Steady our feet and hands that our words

And our actions may be a force for good,

For bringing more forgiveness and greater

Reconciliation, this week and every week.

May it be so.

"A New Year of Spiritual Depth and Meaning"

© Rev. Susan Karlson September 16, 2012 Unitarian Church of Staten Island

My summer was incredible—not because I went anywhere exotic but because the journeys I made included reconciling parts of myself that had been at odds with each other before.

Perhaps, one of the most transformative experiences I had was going back to Norfolk, Virginia where I spent the first twenty-four years of my life. I wanted to see my hometown now—not as a place that I couldn’t wait to get away from when I was a young adult but as a place that shaped me and influences me still.

The most pivotal part of my journey was my visit to the Methodist church of my childhood. I left that church behind when I entered college and got into yoga, completely ready to discard my childhood religion. I remember going back one time when I was in college and seeing a Black couple seated in the balcony. I was sure they were relegated to the balcony. I wouldn’t stand for it. I was out of there.

In the back of my mind though, I had my doubts about what really happened that day. I never talked to anyone about that experience; I didn’t even talk to the Black couple. I just left.

I went back again, thirty years later. I looked around outside and there were rain barrels to water the Community Garden. A sign and the website described how the church worked with a community project that I knew had been in a Black neighborhood when I was growing up. Here was a Community Garden serving the people of the church and the larger community. I still wondered if I jumped to conclusions all those years ago.

So I decided to go back there for church on Sunday. They all welcomed us and were curious about me—trying to remember my mother and me. I saw a friend from my youth group. I looked at the choir room where I spent so many hours practicing and singing in the youth choir.

I visited the youth classroom where in the late 60’s, we held a coffee house called The Way Inn where I sold refreshments. I could almost hear the music rocking and inspiring me again. In that same youth room, we listened to Jesus Christ Superstar, and talked about it, not as blasphemy like many other churches but as an interpretation of the life of Jesus and his followers.

I got it—it’s not coincidental that I am a Unitarian Universalist minister. I am a minister in this liberal faith precisely because I was raised in a positive and caring religious community that affirmed me thinking for myself; in retrospect, they appreciated my gifts, and encouraged me to create a radical Easter service around the Last Supper. And this was during a time when it was relatively unfathomable for women to be in the ministry; there weren’t even that many Unitarian Universalist female ministers then.

Unlike many Unitarian Universalists who experienced judgment, ridicule and pain in their former religions, my childhood religion accepted and affirmed me. I chose the reading from Liz Lerner’s sermon (The Jew in the Chalice) because I struggle as well with the intersection between my various religious identities— growing up as a Christian, followed by my later path as a minister of yoga and my unswerving solid dedication to Unitarian Universalism. I struggle because I often feel that I cannot be myself, that I will be misunderstood if I affirm how my religious background created the strongest and most profound foundation for how I want to live my life and be the kind of moral person I yearn to be and that my faith calls me to be. I feel the challenge of living out my faith in the God of my understanding in this predominantly humanist congregation that I sometimes fear will see me as naïve or unintelligent .

I realize, as Liz Lerner says in her Sermon (The Jew in the Chalice), that “I cannot be other than I am” and that I love who I am and I love my understanding of the God that calls to me. I have zero strivings for people in this congregation to have similar theological leanings. Part of why I love Unitarian Universalism and interfaith ministry as well is because I really don’t have strong drives for people to believe alike or look at life the same way or listen for the Call of the Divine in the same way. My greatest hope and vision is that every person who comes here finds spiritual nurture, follows their calling to be the best person they can be, loves their neighbor as themselves and finds sustenance, growth, depth and meaning in their life journey and particularly, their time here at this church.

I’ve been looking back and taking stock. I realized this summer that in my desire to be liked, to feel safe and be understood, I have often shortchanged this congregation. This sermon is a bit of a confession, my way of starting to reconcile. And like the turnaround bird, the African Sankofa bird in our story for all ages, this is a way of turning around to see where I’ve been, where this congregation has been, so that we can move forward together.

Several years ago, we did an appreciative inquiry process with church leaders of people’s experiences of me as the minister. Most folks said that they really couldn’t think of a time when they found my ministry spiritually engaging or meaningful. They gave lots of examples of what they liked about my ministry and how they thought I might be a better minister. That feedback has been in the back of my mind for several years now. I realized then and I realize even more now, that something needs to change. And it needs to start with me. I have to be authentic or you won’t be authentic. I have to have the courage to speak my truth or you may not feel I want to hear your truth. As I said, it was a very liberating summer.

So I am going to make some bold changes this year that I hope will encourage more spiritual growth in this congregation, more nurturing of the spirit and more authentic sharing of what is most meaningful to us. We’re going to triple the number of worship celebrations we have here. We’ll have our regular Sunday morning Celebration and once a month, we’ll hold Soulful Sundown geared to those who are young adults but open to everyone. I am so excited and hopeful about these worship celebrations because I have been meeting with the young adults who are planning them and I can tell you that this is very empowering for them. They are absolutely forging their own way, creating the experiences that speak to them.

The third worship will be a Mid-Week Worship and Meditation beginning the third week in October. There won’t be a sermon but there will be contemplative music, prayer, and meditation in a more intimate setting on a weekday night.

As far as Adult Religious Exploration, Patricia Murphy and I will co-facilitate twelve workshops this year, once or twice a month, on the Unitarian Universalist curriculum, “Building the World We Dream About”. It’s about racism and identity; about how we form the kind of community that is reflective, self-aware and fearless in looking at itself and the institutional and cultural racism that comes with being part of a society that considered people of color inferior and wrote that into its founding documents and practices. We hope that other faith groups might want to join us, so we can work on building the Beloved Community together .

During this new Chalice Year, may we look into each other’s eyes, seek forgiveness when we have wronged one another and reconcile though it requires us to stretch uncomfortably at times. This is the path of a spiritual community that is able to speak to each other in safety, trust, authenticity and love. May this be the beloved community we seek to build this Chalice Year.