Rev. Susan Maginn
"Leaving The Lost And Found"
October 12, 2008
Wy'east UU Congregation
Portland, OR

With the election just weeks away and the economy looming large, I thought maybe I should just ditch the sermon and come in today with a marching band and a puppet show, maybe square dancing would do us all some good...

In the absence of a good square dance, I'll reflect today on how we are all seeking solace right now and what it means for Wy'east to be a congregation that offers solace in these troubled water times - not just any congregation that merely pays its bills, but a congregation that is worth it, worth fighting for and sacrificing for: a deep rooted and called congregation.

Deep rooted congregation means being a place that is stable and strong, a place where children can grow up. A place that meets at a welcoming time of day which is not at 5pm on Sundays when most people need to be home, gearing up for the week to come. A deep roots congregation is financially stable and lives well within the congregation's income.

As many of you know, this is a make or break, high-stakes year for Wy'east. We have been pulling from savings and a district loan for a while and this option will end in June 2009. The money will run out we will need to be self-sustaining. So the board is looking for a new space that will allow us to be more welcoming, in the hopes of growing large enough that we can be self-sustaining. This is a risk and we don't know if it will work, but what we do know is that staying the course is the riskiest option before us. Paying this rent and this minister and this Director of Religious Educaiton, meeting at 5pm, this is will not be sustainable beyond next summer. It is time to move in a new direction, take a leap of faith and your board has been working to discern what is the best direction and the best way to get there.

Being a called congregation means that we are called to be here, called by the holy, called toward a vision of the world as it should be. I don't need to tell you that we live in an unjust world where people live without adequate housing, food, and health care. We live in an unjust world of our own creating when we act in ways that hurt, demean and destroy. We are called by a vision of the world yet to be, a world infused with peace, justice and steadfast love. Our mission is manifesting that vision. Our covenant is how we will be walk together toward that vision.

We pledge to walk together in the ways of truth and affection, as best we know them now or may learn them in days to come that we and our children may be fulfilled and that we may speak to the world in words and actions of peace and goodwill. (Alice Blair Wesley)

In smaller congregations such as Wy'east, there are so few people to simply keep the congregation running smoothly, so it can appear as if running smoothly is the most important task for our religious community because that is what we are focused on. It is true that if we are not paying bills on time and we don't have people to check the voice mail, then we are not able to tend to the vision of the world as it should be. But it is a mistake to assume that we, as a spiritual community, are called to only pay bills on time and check the voice mail. I would bet money that none of us, myself included, are drawn to religious community to engage in church management. If church management becomes our highest aspiration, then we need to close the doors and devote our good resources elsewhere.

I want to introduce you to two guys who can help us wade through becoming a congregation of calling and of deep roots. James Fowler and Robert Kegan.

When James Fowler talks about spiritual development he talks a lot about each of us having a "vocation". The root of this word means spiritual calling.

Despite its impressive etymology, the word "vocation" in our culture is generally boiled down to your job. What do you do to make money so that you can buy stuff that will make you happy, right? Our vocation, for Fowler, is not about our job and not even about our needs, wants or desires.

Vocation is about living in service of a larger commitment that brings our whole being in partnership with community needs and into partnership with God's purposes. When we are engaged in our 'vocation', we are called away from the self-concerned impulses of competition, jealousy and envy toward communal fulfillment or in Fowler's words "a partnership with God on behalf of neighbor." (Stages of Faith, 102-3) We no longer see others as a threat to our calling, but rather we celebrate how the gifts of others contribute to our shared vision.

I remember when my daughter was learning to walk. She would take steps and look back at me with wide eyes as if to say, "Is this OK? I'm leaving you. Am I in dangerous territory?" And I would celebrate her leaving. After a couple more steps with an expression of pure glee, she returns to my lap. With me, she can gather the confidence and strength to walk away, she can take the steps and then she can come right back to me again when she is ready, fully knowing she has accomplished something big.

This is my understanding of a great congregation: A place that is spiritually nourishing so that people can take risks to live an awakened life and when people have taken risks, to love boldly and to name injustice in the world and in their own lives, then the great congregation is there to welcome you home so that you can integrate what you have learned and keep growing.

This is not just a good way to do church. According to Kegan, such a place is essential for people to be able to develop from one stage to another. He calls it the 'culture of embeddedness'. Such a place that holds on Ð loving, teaching, encouraging us. Then the culture of embeddedness lets go. When my daughter was ready to try walking, I let her go. I didn't keep her close warning her about the infinite dangers of gravity. Then the culture of embeddedness does something really radical. It stays in place. Imagine if I had been watching TV while my daughter was taking those steps and looking back for me. She needed me and my attention to stay put as she walked. She needed to be watched and then welcomed when she returned.

The culture of embeddedness holds on, lets go and then stays put. Without such a place, then we are scared to take risks. We hold back and remain in stuck one stage indefinitely.

We are all going to be going through some tough times in the months ahead. This is the time when we need the strength of religious community more than ever.

Please look for ways to lean into this place by coming to weekly worship and serving on a committee - your presence matters. Be a part of the chalice circles where small groups meet in homes and have conversations that deepen spirituality. Attend or host a circle suppers Ð these are potluck dinners with a group from Wy'east in someone's home. Give generously with your money if you can, so that this place can aspire to be a place of healing, awakening and solace for all who would seek it.

Let us come to know that we are not here just to pay our bills. We pay our bills so that we can listen well and live out a call from beyond, a calling that searches through all the beauty and all the waste and miraculously welcomes the holy into the world.

Prayer....

A Prayer for Desert Times by Margaret Keip The journeys of our lives are never fully charted. There come to each of us deserts to cross -- barren stretches -- where the green edge on the horizon may be our destination, or an oasis on our way, or a mirage that beckons only to leave us lost.

When fear grips the heart, or despair bows the head, may we bend as heart and head lead us down to touch the ground beneath our feet. May we scoop some sand into our hands and receive what the sand would teach us:

It holds the warmth of the sun when the sun has left our sight, as it holds the cool of the night when the stars have faded. Hidden among its grains are tiny seeds, at rest and waiting, dormant yet undefeated.

Desert flowers. They endure. Moistened by our tears and by the rains which come to end even the longest drought, they send down roots and they bloom.

May we believe in those seeds, and in the seeds within us. May we remember in our dry seasons that we, too, are desert flowers. Amen.