We give thanks for this opportunity to be together today. What a time to be alive, to create our shared ministries and embody our living faith tradition.

Grant us serenity so we may surrender our current expressions of Unitarian Universalism as the one right way. Helps us to understand that we do not own Unitarian Universalist, but rather it owns us.  We belong to this faith. Release us from the fear of change so we may embrace opportunity larger than ourselves, expression beyond our imagination.

Give us the courage to pick up what is really our work, our own transformation and evolution.  Give us strength and perspective when the road is unknown, and long and uncomfortable and not at all what we expected. Stir in us the commitment to build relationship outside ourselves, out on our margins as if our liberation depended on it, because we know it does.

Grant us the wisdom to discern what we can’t change in this generation, this lifetime and what is indeed our work to do.  Grant us the patience and love to sow the seeds of trees under whose shade we will never sit and whose fruits will nourish a people we will never know but love just the same.

Help us develop the spiritual discipline of consistently showing up in support of people whose values are close but not quite ours… and lead us into mutual transformation. Help us to develop an ever-widening circle of community as spiritual practice.  Because religious community truly is where we practice being human. 

Oh, God, may we become the people we’ve been waiting for and bring you honor and glory.  May we lean that much closer into your beloved community and kingdom of heaven on earth.

Amen.

1. Bathroom sniff test. Yes, I’m serious. What’s the first room you clean in your own home when company is coming? I rest my case. Is your church bathroom up to “company standards?” I especially love those congregations that put out a basket of goodies like fragrance-free lotion, band-aids, feminine products, safety pins, diapers and diaper wipes. (If you separate by gender, provide baby needs in each bathroom.) It’s delightfully welcoming.

2. Sound System. The only thing worse than a musty-dusty bathroom is a sound system that doesn’t work. Please respect your assembled community and the folks who lovingly put together the worship enough to make sure the sound system supports the service seamlessly. Make sure that a cadre of people know how to work technical magic and can step in when needed. Make sure the worship associates are comfortable using the equipment. Practice.

3. Greeters as Ministry. Wouldn’t it be great to be greeted at the door by someone who knows you by name and says, “How are? I’m so glad to see you!” I’m convinced this is an under appreciated ministry. We all crave to be seen and known, and wanted. Blessed are the greeters who take special care with visitors. Remember your first day? Unless you were born into Unitarian Universalism, you were probably nervous your first day. Filled with questions. Am I in the right place? Will I be accepted? What if I have trouble following the liturgy? Who will be my Sunday School teacher? There are a couple of congregations who employ the talents of youth and child greeters to help all ages feel welcome and at home. Yes!

4. Membership Tracking. As our U.U.A. President the Rev. Peter Morales says, “If you can’t count them, you can’t serve them.” I believe that. When I grew up, my church had us all sign in the Membership Book housed in each pew. If my family missed a couple of Sundays I knew I could count on someone from the church calling to make sure we were alright. How loving!  Updated materials on membership tracking, hospitality and belonging are here: http://www.uua.org/growth/newcomers/20011.shtml

5. Name Tags. They’re a matter of hospitality and good manners. Even in a family-sized congregation, newer members are not going to know everyone’s name. And here’s another purpose: tracking. Have a basket out by the name tags. After church ask/train people to put their name tags in the basket. Voila! Your membership counter knows who attended (see #4.) And you just might have a little helper learning their ABC’s whose job it could be to put them back in order for the next Sunday.

6. Real Cream. We are so into our free-trade organic coffee and usually fumble on the nasty powdered milk substitute. It’s up there with stinky bathrooms and screeching microphones. Spring an array of real cream, skim milk, and some soy milk. It makes a difference.

7. Projected Announcements. More and more congregations are using a computer and projector to post their announcements before the service. The community is often treated to pictures of church events that happened that previous week. Add captions with names and it is a powerful community builder. If you start running this ten minutes before the worship service starts, I bet people will start coming on time.

8. Newsletters with Purpose. One of my current favorite newsletters is from the Cedars UUC on Bainbridge Island of Washington state. What sets it apart is how user-friendly it is. The contributors don’t assume I know acronyms or common phrases. Contact information is sprinkled throughout the articles and announcements so people can call or email right then. Their newsletter became my guide to getting involved with their congregation and wider community. Reread your newsletter with fresh eyes (pretend you’re a new member.) What does your newsletter tell you or not tell you?  Or better yet, reach out to another congregation and do a swap audit of materials.  Also, please send your newsletter out electronically as a link, not an attachment.  And use the full name of your congregation in the subject line.  This is especially useful for religious leaders who receive the newsletters of area congregations to keep connected (hint-hint.)

9. Websites with Purpose & Ease. Most people seeking Unitarian Universalism will search the Internet to find their nearest church. Knowing that, does the front page of your site give clear directions? Offer a picture of your building so I know it when I see it? What time you worship? Does it tell people what kind of religious community you are and what you value? Is it inviting? Does it provide easy to find contact information for staff and church leaders? This last one is a sore spot for me.  If I have to search deep into your site for a staff/key volunteer contact information if tells me you’ve got a secret club on your hands or don’t want to be bothered.  If you use one of those email e-forms that I have to fill out to have a message sent to someone on staff that tells me your system is paranoid. Not attractive.

10. Voice Message with Soul. Make me want to come to church! Tell me who you are and where you are with an upbeat, clear voice. And please, if you’re going to answer the church phone, make sure you will represent the congregation with a welcoming spirit and accurate information.  One of my favorite messages sported the clear voice of a teenager inviting the caller to their joyful, multigenerational congregation. Wow! Yes!

11. Community with Soul. Fall is a great time to reaffirm your Covenant and what it means to be a member of your religious community. Lift up your vision and celebrate how you plan to build that vision. Need some help? There are great tools out there from the UUA: Vision, Mission, Covenant and the Membership Journey are two I recommend. Contact your District Staff for names of consultants who may be able to coach you in your process or offer a cluster workshop.

12. Search Team of Possibilities. Skip a couple of Sundays this fall and go check out another church. What do you like? What good ideas could you bring back? What do you especially appreciate about your home congregation? I always thought it would be fun to have an organized team who went out and systematically went searching for possibilities to share with their own leadership.  (I promise I will flesh this out in future postings…)

13. Have Fun. We’re in this for the long haul. If it’s making you anxious, angry, or resentful why not let someone else do <insert distasteful duty here> for a while. Or maybe it doesn’t get done for a while. Lead with love and creativity and fun. Abundance will follow.

Have a great year!

**This post is an edited reprint from an article that appeared on the front page of the UUA Pacific NW website a long time ago.  Still applicable, don’t you think?

So imagine my delight during Friday morning worship at General Assembly when a fleet of puppets burst down the aisles. Bumble bees, crickets, caribou, wolves, loons, and a huge (I mean huge) whale illustrated the sermon. It was joyful and poignant and appropriate for all ages. What a beautiful example.

If your congregation uses puppets in worship and/or religious education, please contact me.

Unitarian Universalist Association of  Congregations’ Blog: http://www.uuworld.org/news/ga/

• Before you go to General Assembly (GA), skim the Pacific Northwest District of congregations (www.pnwd.org under “Congregations”) or your own district.   Find congregations that are similar in size, and make a list.  At the General Assembly, seek out people from those congregations who are in similar leadership roles as you and compare notes.  What is working well?  What are challenges?  What are possible solutions?  Swap contact information and keep in touch.  There is a message board at GA where you can post and receive messages to people.
• Even better – contact folks ahead of GA and arrange regular meetings (breakfasts?) to debrief the experience and start plotting collaboration and support once we’re back home.
• Be extra-friendly to the folks working the General Assembly – they are all volunteers and our UU brothers and sisters.
• Sing out at the Opening Worship and let the rush of celebrating with thousands of Unitarian Universalists from all over our continent sink into your bones. Let our collective energy feed your spirit. After each worship service ask what you liked best and how you can bring that nugget home to your own worship.
• Seek out district board members and your Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations trustee and tell them what your greatest hopes are for our religion and your congregation.  Our boards set the vision for our collective ministry with long range dreaming. Tell them what your priorities are.
• Seek out U.U.A. of C. staff with your questions.  Tell us what you need to build a vibrant, thriving religious community. During Plenary staff sit in a block to the front-left when facing the stage.
• Go to a workshop that speaks to a need in your congregation. Before you leave General Assembly, create a plan for how you will apply what you learned back in your home congregation.
• Go to a workshop that speaks to a personal passion or interest.  Before you leave General Assembly, create a plan for how you will apply what you’ve learned back in your home congregation and/or your personal life.
• Keep some extra room in your suitcase for the wonderful Unitarian Universalist clothing and jewelry available in the display booth area.  Everyone should have at least one piece of UU jewelry to wear.
• Keep the energy going! When you return to your congregation, schedule some coffee time with key folks to share what you learned. Give them copies of the hand-outs and your notes.  Write an article for your congregation’s newsletter.  Make yourself available at coffee hour for people who are interested. Seek out the next group of leaders who should go to General Assembly 2011 to represent your congregation and bring back inspiration, perspective, connections, and ideas to help your religious community be all that it can be.

“Gramma?  Can a heart burst?”

“Yes, why?”

“Gramma, I’m afraid my heart is going to burst sometimes.  Sometimes it’s too full with love.  And sometimes it’s too full with sadness.”

“Mmm…” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “So, what are you going to do with that?”

She often asked that sort of question.

“I think I’m gonna to be a minister.”

I said it not quite convinced, as the only ministers I knew were male and Christian and I wasn’t either. They had The Answer and I knew there were many. They saved people from their pulpit.  I felt called to heal with actions and  love just in the regular places of my life. … “I think I’m gonna be a minister.”

“What makes you think you aren’t a minister now?”

The sound of the gulls overhead were drown out by the paradigm shift crashing in my skull.  The deep, deep breath of spring air I took in cut through the lilac drunkenness and the colors all around us intensified exponentially.

A minister was born.

Religious Education happens when we are witnessed deeply, and when our safe people believe in us as our own beliefs are taking form.

One of the congregations in the Pacific NW had an Adult Religious Education chair and a Membership chair who worked closely together.  Their congregation was a mid-sized religious community with a fairly evenly stratified grouping of older members, middler members, and newer members (with regards as to when they joined the community.)

This congregation was also starting to feel the all-too-familiar rumblings of a pastoral-size congregation trying to break through to a program-size congregation.  Newer members couldn’t figure out how to get a foot in the leadership door.  Older members were tightening the reigns as they become more and more anonymous to the new members. And the middler members were the ones doing all the work and burning out.

The Adult RE chair and the Membership chair sat down with the membership book and divided the congregation into three groups according to when they officially became members.  From these three groups they made smaller groups.  In each of these smaller groups were a family unit of olders, a family unit of middlers, and a family unit of newer members.

These chairs contacted the social butterflies within the smaller groups and asked them to invite the others over for coffee and dessert. The only agenda for the meeting?  To explore the following questions and see what happened:

1. What brought you to <insert congregation here>?
2. What keeps you?
3. What are your wishes for this religious community?

The experiment didn’t make it past a season.  But what they found in this one round was that the newer members starting taking more leadership off the shoulders of the middlings.  And the older members got to share the stories and history. The middlings and newers gleaned the larger context.  The community was noticeably transformed by this small, but organizing-intensive experiment.  I asked these two chairs why they only did it a season and they quickly replied that it was just a heck of a lot of work.

Keeping that in mind I did a modified version of this experiment at one of our smaller congregations.  In the middle of a worship service, I had the entire congregation stand up and put themselves on an imaginary chronological line according to when they joined their congregation.  From this long line, I divided them up into three lines standing shoulder to shoulder.  They reached out and grabbed the hand of the people next to them and then paired off in groups of three.  I invited them to explore those three magic questions.  The place was buzzing with energy and stories.  Their notorious curmudgeon came to me after worship and said it was the most fun he’s ever had at worship.

It also occurs to me that this way of choosing members just might work for small group ministry… Try your own version in your own religious community and report back…

Religious Education happens when we are woven in to all the diverse perspectives, contexts, stories, and gifts of religious community.  Woven into that fabric we become larger and more powerful than just our self.

Many a visitor will walk through our doors seeking to be guided by Unitarian Universalist theology and held by Unitarian Universalist religious community.  And many of those visitors will leave, repelled by less than inspiring worship or an exhausting congregational conflict or our issues with power and authority…  This keeps me up at night.  So many of our congregations allow bad behavior in the effort to preserve “the inherent worth and dignity of all.”  More often than not, this bad behavior becomes part of the cultural norm: arguing the fine points of final reports at congregational meetings, using candles of joys and concerns for public service announcements, assuming there is one politically correct way to be Unitarian Universalist, triangulating and undermining leadership, using email for heated discussion, and using consensus as a weapon to get one’s way are just a few of my favorite examples. There is nothing worthy or dignified in this behavior. A loving intervention and firm, clear boundaries are the way to promote worth and dignity.

Some of the many reasons that I am grateful to work on the district executive team is that if I’ve eaten a spinach salad and some is stuck in between my teeth, one of my teammates is going to tell me. I can count on it.  And when I am particularly snarky on an email or totally flop on a project, I trust that Janine is going to lovingly point it out if I don’t see it and then give me the space and freedom to fix it.  Sometimes I’m at a loss as to how to repair a gaff and need help.  I have the support to ask for the help and receive guidance. This culture of safety, respect and constantly learning brings out my best.  There isn’t the pressure to be perfect.  Some of us weren’t born with a Manual of Appropriate Behavior and it’s helpful for others to shine light on the parameters when we simply can’t find them through the fog.

Most of our healthy congregations have a  Covenant of Right Relations.  This is could be thought of as the Congregational Manual of Appropriate Behavior. Here is a great example of one: Westside Unitarian Universalist Church in Seattle, WA.

There are policies that support a Covenant of Right Relations:  Conflict Resolution Guidelines, Email Guidelines, Policy on Taking a Stand on Controversial Public Issues, Procedure for Addressing Disruptive Behavior, and Safety Policies. You can find excellent examples from the Quimper Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Pt. Townsend, WA under Part III of their Operations Manual.

I was leading a workshop this summer, and we co-created a covenant for that moment in time together. Someone raised their hand and asked me unpack the term “covenant” for them.  “Is a covenant a promise you won’t ever break?” they asked.  “Quite the contrary,” I answered.  It’s a promise you can count on breaking because it calls us to our highest selves and we are merely human.  I think the most important part of the covenant isn’t the “how to” but the “what happens when we fail and need to get back on track.”  The Olympia Unitarian Universalist Congregation has a Conflict Transformation Team to help with just that.  Ministers and/or Pastoral Care Teams may get involved to help people in their personal discernment of remorse and individual path toward forgiveness.  And there is always the district Healthy Congregations Team, which provides training, consultation and assessment for congregations who wish to embrace healthy communications and proactively deal with conflict.

This process is sacred religious education.  When I have failed and need to find my way back into right relations I have relied heavily on the Jewish process of repentance, teshuva:

1. Recognize and discontinue the inappropriate behavior or mistake.

2. Verbally confess the behavior, action and/ or mistake to the person(s) to who was affected.

3. Regret the behavior, action and/ or mistake. Evaluate the negative impact this action may have had on you or on others.

4. Devise a plan to rectify the behavior, action and/or mistake.  Sometimes something cannot be repaired, but you may be able to change a pattern or cycle so that the chance that a repeat offense will take place is minimized.

5. Then you may ask for forgiveness from those to whom you have done wrong.

What a process!  I crave this for our religious communities.  This is the hard, loving work of intentional religious communities living into our collective calling. When we live into our best selves as individuals and as a community love and joy are free to stream in.  We don’t have to get it perfect.  But it helps to know what the expectations are and to be given the freedom and support to fix it when we get it wrong. This is real transformational growth.  I want that for everyone.  It has the power to heal the world. And that is why I’m an evangelical Unitarian Universalist.

When we fall out of right relationship and/or break covenant there is an opportunity for Religious Education.  May we have the courage to embrace it with grace.

Note:  This article was published on the www.pnwd.org website in the spring of 2009.  It posted here by requested.

Come recharge your spirit within our religious community.

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My children and I would keep these cards handy for times when we saw someone living out our Unitarian Universalist values and send them a thank you note.  Often we’d gather around the Sunday newspaper and search scavenger-hunt style for our values in action.  We’d make a list of people and note their good deeds or courageous decisions.  We’d look up their address, write a thank you note, and then pop it in the mail.  As our little project gained momentum we’d keep a stack of cards in our car and then leave notes in our wake whenever we were out in the community.

I noticed a positive shift in myself and in my children.  We found what we were looking for.  We found Unitarian Universalist values that we hold dear alive throughout our community.  And we started feeling powerful and supportive in our witnessing.

I figured these good vibes would ripple out in some way, but I had no idea of the impact magnitude until I was at a community gathering.  My towns mayor kept looking over at me throughout the evening and then final came over and asked, “Did I do something wrong?  Have I offended you?”

“What on earth?  No.  Why?”

“Well, everyone on City Council has received a note from you in the past year except me…”

I gave him a bear hug and assured him that my children looked up to him and appreciated his job.  I also made a mental reminder to send a note as soon as we could.

When the mayor notices, something is working.  Witnessing, appreciating, thanking is powerful and transforming for both the sender and receiver.

Religious Education is in the noticing and the appreciating.

Note:  If your social justice committee effort has become a checklist of issues, consider picking this effort as congregational justice making. It has real potential to breathe life and love back into a community.

Three Cedars was an extraordinary place in the early 90s in that there were only four paid staff members and the rest of the 30 member staff were volunteers. Six hours would go by without a paid staff member being on the premises.  I think it worked because we didn’t know it couldn’t.  It worked because we were pioneers with deep, deep compassion and commitment to loving people.

No one at Three Cedars ever asked a resident how they acquired AIDS.  We honestly didn’t care.  We wanted to know what gave them life, what gave them joy and then surround them in those elements.  We did our best to reunite families, but most times families were estranged and we created our own. There was such misunderstanding about AIDS.

This was at a time when medicinal cocktails merely prolonged life or diminished pain.  We insisted that people came to Three Cedars to live, but at that time, once someone came to us, we knew that they would die here in the safety and love our arms.  Our goal was to make that transition as dignified and humane as possible.

When I was a volunteer, we couldn’t afford to take any moment for granted.  Man, could we celebrate! We’d lie out a special feast for just about any holiday and even make up some holidays. Anything to lift spirits and get our boys eating. We got supermarkets and restaurants to donate their finest food in order to entice our residents to eat well. The medicines at that time made people so nauseous that eating was usually laborious.

We also changed wounds, inserted suppositories, changed diapers… nothing phased the seasoned volunteers. I could change a bandage of a herpes lesion without batting an eye so gingerly that the person receiving my care would only moan slightly in discomfort.

As I became more obviously pregnant it became harder and harder for me to change people’s diapers or perform the heavy lifting required of some bandage changes.  But I’d cheerfully waddle around passing out medications, reading to people, or cooking up gourmet meals. The men loved touching my belly.  I think most people fight back the urge to fondle pregnant bellies, but there was a special, delightful inhibition at Three Cedars.

One of the men had dementia and his mind regressed to that of a small boy’s was especially fascinated with my belly. Martin would rest his head on my roundness while I read him stories.  We would curl up like that for hours.  When the baby moved he would squeal and trace the movement with his fingers.

Dementia is a very individual process.  My great grandmother had Alzheimer’s for years before she died, so I was familiar with the symptoms. But each resident was different.  Some would get nasty and throw food at me if the order wasn’t right.  Some would wander from room to room not quite knowing what they were looking for.  Some would become involved in deep philosophical conversations but could never recall anyone’s name. And some would go through the entire disease never experiencing dementia at all. Martin regressed to the mind and emotional state of a child about the age of six.

Martin was about 6 feel tall and weighed about 110 lbs. toward the end of his life.  I had to play games with his food to get him to eat.  I would make smiley face pancakes and fruit salad in the shape of bunny rabbits.  If he finished his plate clean I’d give him an ice cream cone treat.

On Christmas Eve we couldn’t get him to stay in his bed. He was overly stimulated with the all the festivities. I was huge by that time and tired in my last trimester.  My husband sweetly offered to clean the kitchen so I could rest. But as soon as I’d settle down in my favorite chair with my feet up, I’d hear Martin over his intercom singing children’s Christmas carols.  And then I’d hear Cecil, the man next to Martin holler for Martin to "shut up, I’m trying to sleep."  I pattered up to Martin’s to tuck him back in and gently ask him to be a good boy and go to sleep.  This went on for three or four times and I was getting awfully exasperated.

Usually Martin went to bed after his bedtime story, but the excitement of Christmas Eve was too much for him. I heard Cecil holler for me to "Put Martin’s ass in Time Out" as I trudged to the top of the stairs one more time.  I took a deep breath before going into

Martin’s room.  I was starting to get ticked off and question my readiness for motherhood. I was seriously weighing the wisdom of putting Martin in Time Out.

I pulled open the door with determination. Before me was a grown man in a diaper sitting on the side of his bed, bouncing up and down an, clapping his hands. In a sing-song voice he was repeating over and over, "Santa Clause is coming! Santa Clause is coming!" absolutely beaming with anticipation.

All frustration drained through my feet. Here was a man abandoned by his family with a brain so simplified it didn’t even register the enormous pain in which his body was immersed.  Here was a boy waiting for Santa Clause surrounded by a makeshift family with presents under the tree fulfilling his list of Tonka trucks and Legos and a stocking filled with candy that I just knew he’d shove in his mouth as quickly as he could unwrap.

"Martin," I whispered, "Santa won’t come unless good little boys are asleep…" Martin gasped, cupped his mouth, and then leaped under the covers.

"Rub my back until I fall asleep," he begged.  Before he rolled over he kissed my belly. I rubbed and hummed a lullaby until his breathing was a steady, slow rhythm. I wasn’t far behind him.

Two months later I gave birth to a strong baby boy.  On the way back from the hospital my husband and I came to Three Cedars before even going home.  I wanted to show the residents my baby before he got all baby-germy and therefore became a hazard to the health of the residents.

Martin was still there.  Busy with a Lego creation.  He leapt up and ran over when I came in with the baby. He was fascinated with the bundle I was gingerly holding.

I’d never held a baby that small, and I still couldn’t believe it he was mine. The staff and residents were all gathered around admiring our first Three Cedars Baby.

Martin leaned in and very quietly asked if he could hold the baby. I held out the tiny bundle for him to take, much to the dismay of the staff who was giving me The Look.  In a sense I had just handed my newborn over to a 6 year old boy capable of 6 year old temper tantrums. Martin shuffled out of the room and into his room.  I stopped one of the staff who was going after him.  I bent my head to the monitor in the dining room.  We could hear Martin with the baby.

"Baby, tell me what it’s like.  I forget…. Tell me again what it’s like."  There was silence except for newborn grunts and gurgles.  We all held our breath. Martin came shuffling back out with the infant in his arms and handed him back to me.

Martin died within 24 hours peacefully, surrounded by people who loved him and respected him.

Religious Education happens when we stare horrible tragedy down and respond with graceful love and acceptance.  Religious Education is the transformation we experience when we leap into justice work with faith as our safety net.