[Enter after a little “dead air” at the beginning of the sermon time, running up the aisle pulling a suitcase. Arrive breathless at pulpit, pulling out the stole from the suitcase.]
Sorry. I couldn’t resist!
As some of you may have heard, I have been campaigning for the presidency of the Unitarian Universalist Association.
I wanted you to see what my life has been like during my “sabbatical.”Actually, it all started long before my sabbatical began this past January. Here is a list of my travels:
month |
place |
event |
| Jan. 08 | Boston | UUA Board meeting |
| Feb | Santa Barbara | SMOLUUC |
| March | Louisville | Large Church Conference |
| April | S. F. Bay | Pacific Central District meeting |
| June | Ft. Lauderdale | GA |
| July | Radford, VA | SUUSI |
| Oct. | Attleboro, MA | Retired Ministers meeting |
| Minneapolis | President’s Council | |
| Albuquerque | LREDA convention | |
| Nov. | Chicago | Meadville-Lombard Seminary |
| Bangor, ME | installation, meet candidate | |
| Jan. 09 | Washington, D. C. | forums, meetings in D. C. area |
| Boston | UUA Board meeting; Harvard seminarians | |
| Oakland, San Mateo | preach, forums | |
| Los Angeles | PSWD UUMA retreat | |
| Baltimore | Social Justice Conference | |
| Washington, D. C. | forum at All Souls | |
| Muncie, Ind. | Preach, meetings | |
| Seattle | preach, meetings | |
| New York | preach, four forums! | |
| Feb | Salem, OR | PNWD ministers retreat; district meeting |
| Portland, OR | meetings | |
| Santa Barbara | SMOLUUC | |
| Houston | ICUU Women conference forum | |
| March | Atlanta | ministers of color |
| England | workshop on growth | |
| Denver | MDD forum | |
| Cleveland | Ohio-Meadville District forum | |
| April | Philadelphia | meetings, fundraisers |
| Rhode Island | forum | |
| Boston | UUA Board meeting | |
| Worchester | forum for New England districts | |
| Lewes, Delaware | workshop on leadership for ministers | |
| Wilmington, DE | Joseph Priestly District forum | |
| Milwaukee | Central Midwest District forum | |
| May | S. F. Bay | Pacific Central District meeting, keynote |
| Baltimore | preach, forums |
Along the way I have appeared in 22 forums with my opponent Laurel Hallman. I once suggested to Laurel that we save time and money by alternating appearances, since each one of us could give the other’s stump speech from memory and knew how the other was going to answer every question. I have also done dozens of solo presentations followed by questions and answers. Like most preachers, I never thought I would get tired of hearing the sound of my own voice. Well, it finally happened after a dozen forums.
And now, mercifully, the campaign is coming to an end. Three weeks from today I will either be the new president of our association or I will be “the loser” who is quickly forgotten. Of course, continuing to serve as this congregation’s senior minister is not exactly “losing.”
So, what have I learned in a year and a half of repeating myself? I think I have learned some things about our movement, some things about myself, and some things about our lives together.
I have learned that Vaclav Havel, the author of this morning’s reading, is right: once I began this campaign I quickly found that I am not the only one. I entered this race with one central message: we can be the religion for our time. Our little movement has enormous potential. We can become something very different from what we are today. We can offer a home to millions of people seeking a spiritual home and be a real force for compassion, peace, justice and environmental stewardship.
I learned that this message of hope and possibility, this message that we must seize a historic opportunity, is a message thousands of Unitarian Universalists are eager to hear.
More than that, hundreds are ready to support change with contributions of time and money.
I have trouble expressing how profoundly the generosity of people in this campaign has touched me. There are people I did not know before this campaign started who are working tirelessly, making phone calls, attending meetings, and writing letters. They have picked me up at airports, driven me hundreds of miles, and opened their homes to me. I realize that I may be the candidate on the ballot, but we are all in this race together. The real candidate is our shared vision of what is possible.
A campaign like this is horribly expensive. And we are running a frugal campaign. I think we have raised something close to $80,000. Many of you have donated. Thank you! Some of the donations almost make me cry. One seminarian, a woman who appears to be in her 50‘s, has been sending $25 a week for months. I have never met her. Last week a woman sent in a check for $34 because 34 is her lucky number. A poor retired minister sent in a small check with an apology that it was not more. One couple in California called a few weeks ago. They have been major donors to UU causes over the years and made a generous donation early in the campaign. The husband asked how fundraising was going. I told him. He then asked if there was a limit on campaign donations. A limit!? I said no. They wrote a check that ends in three zeros.
I have also learned (re-learned, really) that the tension in our movement between clinging to the past and embracing a new future is deep and pervasive. Some of the tension is healthy. We of course want to preserve our core traditions of intellectual rigor and freedom. Some of it is, alas, not healthy. There is among us, like among all groups, fear of change. More sadly, there is a significant part of our movement that does not want to change because they are comfortable being a rather elite club. If our movement fails to thrive in the coming years, I believe it will be because of clubishness and complacency.
The overall experience of running this race has been wonderful. A small part of the experience, however, has been deeply disappointing. The opposition has engaged in whisper campaigns that are false and mean spirited. As a former newspaper journalist who has covered lots of campaigns, I know I should not be surprised. Still, it makes me sad and angry to hear that people are spreading rumors that I was fired from my position at the UUA, that I plan to demand the resignations of the entire UUA staff, that I am autocratic, than no one here at JUC supports me, and so forth. One person even accused me, and this was posted on the Association’s election email discussion site, of having something to hide because the biography on my campaign web site does not say what work my father did. Honest! I wonder what sinister stuff they were imagining. (The truth isn’t very exotic. Dad worked for the federal government as a computer programmer.) Luckily, someone with a marvelous sense of humor wrote in saying that my web site does not talk about my diet and perhaps I am hiding the fact that I eat puppies. A lesson here is that we need to be realistic about human weaknesses when we run our races.
On a much happier note, I could not be more proud of my campaign team. At the outset we committed ourselves to running a clean campaign we would be proud of when it is all over. I also made everyone promise to have fun. We have kept both promises.
And I learned one more priceless lesson. What we do makes a difference. I don’t know if I will be elected president or not. We have a good chance, I think. But win or lose, this campaign will make a difference. There is a new national network of people who are deeply committed to changing our movement, to reaching out in love and making a real difference. The seeds of change have been sown.
But this morning isn’t just about my race. It is about your races; it is about our races. Hannah Joy’s chalice lighting about challenging herself to get a black belt in Tae Kwon Do is an example of how each one of us takes on challenges in life. Sometimes we choose the challenges. Sometimes it seems like life’s challenges choose us. A serious illness, the loss of a job, the messy end of a relationship, a death of a loved one can thrust an unwanted challenge in our path. Yet even here, ultimately we are free to choose how we will respond.
Your life, my life, and our lives together as a congregation are largely shaped by the races we enter. Think of all the challenges you have taken on in life. They don’t have to be huge. It might be learning a piece of music that is difficult. It could be forcing ourself to learn to speak in public. It might be applying for a highly competitive position. It might be getting up the courage to go to a third world country as a volunteer. Or it might be a really huge challenge, like daring to love and trust again after being hurt in a relationship.
Think, for a moment, of the challenges you have faced in your life. Reflect on how you met these, and how the way you met them has shaped who you are today.
I think this morning of our young people bridging into our youth program and bridging into young adulthood. You have already faced challenges that have shaped you. And most of your challenges lie before you.
In a very real sense, our challenges in life, the races we choose to enter, determine who we become.
It is also true that the races we choose not to enter shape our lives just as much as the ones we do. I don’t have a lot of regrets in my life. I have been exceptionally blessed. Among the regrets I do have are times that I let fear keep me out of the race—fear of failure, fear of looking foolish. Oddly, I have no regrets in my life about challenges I took on in which I did not succeed. I bet the same is true in your life. When we look back, the pain of trying and not succeeding is a whole lot less than the pain we feel when we chicken out, when we let fear paralyze us.
There is another huge lesson here: you and I do not run our races alone. And our chances of succeeding at anything are so much greater when we know we have the support of others. We need one another, because there will be times when our confidence will wane, when self doubt and fear will shake our resolve. It is then that a parent, a friend, a life partner makes all the difference. Sometimes it is with a gentle word of encouragement—and, as in the case of this morning’s chalice lighting story, sometimes with words that are not so gentle. One of the great gifts that we can give one another is to believe in each other and encourage one another.
There is another lesson I have relearned in this crazy race for president. You and I never know how the races we run in life are going to turn out. If we are certain of the outcome ahead of time, it is no race at all. Who among has had our life turn out the way we thought it would when we were in elementary school? No one; no one. Even the young people bridging this morning have already faced uncertainty and surprises. Trust me, more surprises are headed your way.
We can never know how things will turn out.
We can, however, choose to run. We can choose to take risks. We can choose to give our best to the people we love and all the things in life we hold dear.
This is what it means to be religious. This is what it means to be faithful. In traditional religious language that makes so many of us uncomfortable, this is what our religious forebears meant when they spoke of loving God, serving God, and doing God’s will.
When we risk together, as this congregation has done so many times in the last decade, we make a difference. It is in entering the race and giving our all that we save our souls. When we follow our ideals together, we can help save a hurting world.
I don’t know how the election in three weeks will turn out. I may actually win! But the deeper truth is that I have already won. I won a year and a half ago when I overcame my fear, my inertia and my misgivings. And the race is making a difference as other people join in, as they find out that they are part of a large group that is committed to making our faith a vital force.
When you and I overcome our fear, when you and I decide to follow the path of idealism, when you and I give the best that is in ourselves, we have already won. We have already won.
And when we give of our best, we can look back upon our lives with gratitude and a profound sense of fulfillment.
This is my prayer today. May love guide us on our way. May we support one another as we run our race. May fear never hold us back. For there is joy in the race. We were born to run, you and I.
No one gets to sit on the sideline. Get in the race. Let’s give it everything we’ve got.
Amen.