Making an IMPACT (Adam Slate)
Part 1
In a
service intended to highlight IMPACT, it might seem odd to start
the sermon talking about eliminating programs that help people. However
Erik posted an article recently about a church that’s doing just that—getting rid
of programs like their food pantry and clothing ministry that help people in
need, in order to begin thinking about those constituencies as potential
resources of the church, rather than people needing assistance.
Reverend
Mike Mather of the Broadway United Methodist Church in Indianapolis has said,
“The church… has done a lot of work where we have treated the people
around us as if, at worst, they are a different species and, at best, as if
they are people to be pitied and helped by us.”
Instead,
the church has been hiring staff to be “listeners” in its neighborhood, to
learn who people are, what their talents might be, and how the church can be a
good neighbor. I pictured us here at Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church doing
that. I pictured us going out into the communities we traditionally help and
getting to know those constituencies as partners rather than beneficiaries of
our generosity. I suspect some of you who read the article might have imagined
the same thing.
But
Broadway United Methodist didn’t seek out or hand pick the neighborhoods where
its listeners were assigned. It went into its own neighborhood, where its
church physically resides. Remember that their goal wasn’t to help people, it
was to be better partners with those in their immediate community.
Our church is located here at the
corner of Rugby Road and Edgewood Lane, yet I didn’t envision us going out into
these neighborhoods around us, nor do I have any recollection of any
significant efforts to do so in the 20 years I’ve been a member here. Why? I
don’t really think there’s a reason. Reaching out to fairly affluent, primarily
white people just hasn’t been high on our list of priorities. Even with
our own neighbors.
Why is
this the case? Like the church in Erik’s article, our social justice work may
be distorting our perspective a little. Our Seventh Principle tells us to
respect our connectedness to everyone. But while the message may have started as “Love everyone, with
special attention to those who need our help,” the emphasis seemed to have
shifted more exclusively toward those groups that are in need. We have become
helpers. We’re advocates for the underdog. And while that’s an important aim,
and something many of us value immensely about our church, we should be mindful
not to make it our sole focus. It’s too easy to
hand pick who we let into our community. It doesn’t fully honor the
interdependent web. And just between us, it’s not going to save the world.
The
Reverend Barbara Prose of All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma said
recently that "if we don’t change direction, meaning if we continue to
insist we can favor some and ignore others, we may end up exactly where we’re
heading: toward a more violent world.”
Dr.
Martin Luther King warned that we must all learn to live together, or
perish together as fools.
Part 2
But we
were talking about IMPACT.
When
Erik and I got together to talk about this service, we were struck by two
things right off the bat. First, IMPACT has accomplished remarkable,
transformative, wonderful things. Dental care for the uninsured, affordable
low-income housing, more public transportation, pre-kindergarten education,
training for law enforcement officers to deal with people who have limited
English language proficiency, and transitional mental health services for
ex-offenders.
The other thing that
stood out was how often people in our church mention that IMPACT events
typically include religious language about a personal God that’s not consistent
with their own spiritual views. In spite of
being part of a church that calls us to respect everyone’s religious path, many
of us take pause at this aspect of IMPACT, and treat it as something that must
be tolerated in order to be part of the cause.
IMPACT
is, by definition, an interfaith initiative. It currently consists of 27 member
congregations, 22 of which are Christian-oriented denominations, 2 are Jewish,
one is Quaker, one is Muslim, and one is UU. Assuming a rotating assignment of
invocations and benedictions at the annual Nehemiah Action event, and an
assumption that religious leaders will pray according to their own faith
tradition, 80% of prayers will be Christian, and 96% will be in a form
different from what we typically see in our own sanctuary here at TJMC.
Let me
suggest that this diversity of religious expression isn’t something we can
think of as separate from IMPACT. Rather it’s a fundamental aspect of it, and
one to be celebrated. The intent of the program is for people of all faiths to
come together to solve a problem here in Charlottesville. In fact, it's likely
that this broad diversity of belief is what allows the Nehemiah Action event to
work. When a Muslim leader does the opening prayer and invokes the name of
Allah, or a Christian leader prays in the name of Jesus, or Reverend Wik offers
more inclusive language invoking the Spirit of Life... that’s part of what’s so
powerful about IMPACT. That IS IMPACT. And if we’re committed to what IMPACT is
about, we should love the diversity of religious expression we encounter. It
has moved mountains. It continues to move mountains.
So
often we get involved in fighting for our causes--abortion rights, marriage
equality, even poverty--mainly with people who are like us. We have a good
sense of the beliefs of the people with whom we’re aligning before we organize
with them. Think about whether this was true for you at the most recent thing
you volunteered for, or the last rally you attended.
The
IMPACT Nehemiah Action has us join together with other area congregations
without making that kind of judgment. So when differences between you and
another religious group become evident through their prayer, think of it not as
something to tolerate, but an opportunity to do better, to find more love to
accept other people. We don’t have--we don’t create--many opportunities like
this for ourselves. And this acceptance, this love, is ultimately the only glue
that will hold us all together.
When
you hear a prayer at the Nehemiah Action that’s outside your faith tradition,
say “Amen,” because this is likely the largest truly interfaith event most of
us will ever be involved with. And if there’s hope for our world, if there's
something that's going to address the misunderstanding, and intolerance, and
anger that exists among us... IMPACT is a snapshot of what it’s going to look
like.
If
there is a shortcoming to the Nehemiah Action, it's not that we have to listen
to each other's prayers. It's that even after years of successful
collaboration, we still listen to them each sitting safely in our own church's
section rather than mixing and blending in the arena to the point that we can't
tell one congregation from another. That’s where I’d like to see us end up
someday.
Part 3
There’s
a movement out there, perpetuated mostly by the Millennial generation, called
the Free Hugs Movement, where people advertising with signs in public places
offer hugs to strangers. There’s a YouTube video about the movement and its
founder that’s gotten 77 million views, and I hope some of you are among those
77 million. I love this movement, because it represents a gesture of acceptance
not tied to what someone may or may not believe.
When
you’re hugging a stranger, you do it without knowing what they think about God,
what kind of family they come from, where they stand on Ferguson, or the
environment. You don’t know the extent to which they may struggle with feelings
of anti-semitism or homophobia. It acknowledges that we’re all part of an
interdependent web that we’re called to honor.
This is
what IMPACT is about. So often our support and our energy is directed to
specific target groups. But the message of Ghandi, and Jesus, and Dr. King is
that love doesn’t work that way. We cannot “continue to insist we can favor
some and ignore others.” We have to love before we apply a litmus test to what
someone believes, or whether their needs
allow us to satisfy our need to be helpful. We
must love everybody. And I understand that there are those out there who want
to harm people because of their beliefs. But while that is true, this message
is also true. We must find more love to encompass everyone. Reverend Prose of
All Souls Tulsa didn’t mince words when she said: “We must love each other or
perish… We must love each other no matter what is said ... or done.”
I have
a friend who recently sent around a picture that someone she knows posted on Facebook.
She had let the poster know she thought it was racist, and he disagreed, so to
make sure she wasn’t just having a super-liberal knee-jerk reaction, she asked
her Facebook friends for their opinion. I won’t describe the picture, but I
found it to be terribly racist. It set off a string of tirades against the
person who originally posted it, and against everyone who thinks like him. It
went exactly the way you’d expect socially-minded people to react. But when
someone made the assumption that my friend had unfriended the guy, she
indicated she hadn’t. “I am hoping,” she said, “that my acceptance of him will help him understand the
folly of his ways.”
I used to think the world would be
saved by those who could elegantly argue for what’s right. But now I realize
it’ll be saved by people who can teach us how not to. We have to accept each
other without first evaluating each other’s ideologies. It’s the only way we’ll
ever be one community. And as UUs--we’ve already committed to pray, to
work side by side, to seek better mutual understanding, with Christians, and
Muslims, and Jews, and athiests, and everyone we meet on their search for truth
and meaning. Let’s honor our tradition of embracing diverse beliefs, and be the
ones to model that acceptance, with the hope that others will follow our
example.
Making an IMPACT (Erik Wikstrom)
Adam’s reflection reminds me of something
said by the Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh.
Thich Nhat Hanh is a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, poet, and peace activist
who, as a young man, during the Vietnam War, visited the United States asking for
our help in finding a peaceful solution to the conflict in his country. When asked what he thought of the U.S. peace
movement, he replied that we were very good at writing protest letters but that
peace would not be achieved until we had learned to write love letters. That’s
still a lesson we need to be learn, and not just in the peace movement.
A few years back the Honorable Louis
Farrakhan called for a “million man march” on Washington, DC, and a whole lot
of people showed up. And some of those
people who showed up, who participated publically, got a lot of grief for it
because not everyone agrees that the Honorable Louis Farrakhan is, to put it
bluntly, all that honorable. I remember,
though … I remember one speaker … I don’t any longer remember who … but one of
the speakers talked about the grief he’d gotten when he announced that he was
going to participate and then said, “but when the house is on fire I don’t care
who’s next to me with a bucket. And
friends, our house is on fire.” When the
house is on fire I don’t care who is next to me with a bucket.
During newcomer orientations I say that
one of the things that makes Unitarian Universalism unique in the religious
landscape is that our first question isn’t, “What do you believe?” Rather, we ask first, “What kind of world do
you want to see?” And if we see that
we’re standing together on that line, fighting the same fire, we recognize each
other as kin.
Of course, we know that there are people
who are out there starting fires, or fanning their flames. Not everyone is trying to put them out, and
that makes this whole “inherent worth and dignity” thing, and this “love
everybody” thing really, really hard.
(But that’s a different sermon.)
For us, at our best, it’s only after we’ve
seen that we’re standing on that line together trying to put out the fire that
we ask, out of curiosity, in an effort to get to know one another better, only
then do we ask about belief. And some
will say that it’s their belief that we are all children of a loving God that puts
them on the line. For others it’s their
belief in our shared Buddha-nature.
Still others would say that they believe that there is nothing beyond
the world that we can see, taste, and touch, and so if anybody’s going to put
the fire out it’s going to have to be us. So many different beliefs can inspire people
to be part of that bucket brigade. And
when the house is on fire – and would anyone disagree that our house is on fire? – when the house is on fire
we shouldn’t care all that much about who is next to us with a bucket.
The beauty of IMPACT is that it is, in a
sense, such an incredibly Unitarian Universalist thing. There’s often a critique, as Adam said, that
it’s an overly Christian thing, but I think everyone’s been missing the
point. IMPACT is Unitarian Universalist
to its core! See … people aren’t asked
their beliefs about vicarious atonement, or transubstantiation, or whether
infant or adult baptism is more efficacious.
People are only asked, “Do you want to see real improvement in the lives
of real people?” “Do you want to see
inequities addressed?” “Do you want to
see justice increased?” If so … show up
to the Action; with your body, make your voice heard. We can talk about our differing beliefs while
we’re cleaning up after the fire’s out.
I know, many of us have a cause that’s
particularly important to us—combating climate change, for instance, or
addressing racism, or the ever needed encouragement toward peace between
nations. There is hunger, there is homelessness,
there are a thousand and one things that need our attention, a thousand and one
fires burning in our home.
So why IMPACT? For one thing, it’s practical. Adam and I have already lifted up some of
IMPACT;s successes. As IMPACT’s Lead
Organizer said to me once, “There are people in this community – in politics,
in business – who could address these problems if it were a priority for
them. IMPACT’s job is to make it a
priority.” And we have. And I say “we” because IMPACT is nothing but
us, and all those other congregations joined together.
We may still feel a little segregated at
the Action, as Adam said, each congregation sitting separately in its own
section. But I can tell you that that’s
not what the people on the stage see.
They see the representatives of 27 diverse faith communities in one
place, and for each person in a seat they know that there are probably ten more
people in a pew who are also urging action.
That’s powerful. That’s power.
Would it be great if we could mix it up
and truly be an intertwined and interconnected sea of people where you couldn’t
tell who belonged to what congregation because, in truth, we all belonged
together? Absolutely. But that’s not IMPACT’s job. That’s our job. IMPACT’s job is to mobilize communities of
faith to act to make a real … well … impact for justice in our community. And they do that.
Our job is to take advantage of this
opportunity to make community, to build on this first step, and to find and
make meaningful connections. Because
working together is not only helpful when there’s a fire to put out. It helps when bridges need to be made. And we’re in need of a whole lot more bridges
in this world.
Adam’s right. Diversity – of whatever kind – is “not something to tolerate, but an opportunity to do better, to find
more love to accept other people.” As
Rev. Prose of All Souls said: “We must love each other or perish.” We must learn to stop writing protest letters
to one another because of our differences but, instead, write love letters
celebrating our common humanity.
On Thursday, April 30th,
at the Nehemiah Action at the John Paul Jones Arena, we have the opportunity to
join with thousands of other folk from all across the Charlottesville area to
demonstrate solidarity of purpose. We need residential treatment facilities
here, in Charlottesville, to help women and men who are struggling with
addictions and co-existing conditions. Our
community needs this – we need this – and together we can make this a priority
for those who have the power to make it a reality.
Yet on April 30th we
also have the opportunity to more fully live into our Unitarian Universalist faith
and to practice the writing of love letters – love letters to all of those
people whose faiths are as important to them as ours are to us; love letters to
those who make sense of the world through their own lived experiences just as
we do ours; love letters to those who, for whatever reasons, have also put
themselves on the line, not caring who’s next to them with a bucket. Or the blueprints for a bridge.