"The Many and the One"

Liturgical Materials for Sunday the 10^th of June, 2001

Mark Belletini, Minister First Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbus, Ohio

Opening Words [Next] [back to top]

We are here
alive and together for a time of truthfulness.
For it is our way, to gather in peace to praise.
And it is our truth, that no truth be compelled.
And it is our life, that we should harm no person.
And it is our song, that you O Love,
are like a rich feast that is everywhere spread,
a feast for every heart without exception.
And at the end of our worship

(assembly) may our reason and our passion keep us true to ourselves, true to each other,
and true to those shared visions of what we can together become…

Naming Ceremony of the Seven Blessings [Next] [back to top]

We are here to Name and Bless these children according to our practice, in the presence of the gathered community. For we affirm that these children are good gifts not just to the parents, and larger family, but to us all.

Kent Jones and Kelly Harvey Jones, Sue and Joe Pfalzer, you are the parents of these children, both of whom, in the words of poet, are beautiful expressions of "life's longing for itself."

One child is adopted, one is not. Each of these children blesses your respective families.

You already well know the responsibilities parenthood asks of you. You already know the dedication, time and complex workings of the human heart it requires of you. Therefore I ask you to say aloud in this company what you know to be true:

Do you bring self-examination, mutual care, and the fullness of your vulnerability and strength to the raising of these children?

We Do.

And gathered here this morning are special family members who are not the parents of these children, but who will be central to the raising of them. Two of them, Val and Alice Schmitt are named by the ancient and honored name godparents. Parents and step-parents of the adoptive parents are here too, and step-sister and grandparents. So now will the godparents and all the special family members and friends of these two children, recognizing that it takes a whole village to raise children, herewith pledge your support to these young ones and their parents? Will you teach them, encourage them, offering them your honesty, your spiritual counsel and earnest questions? Will you regularly set aside special time for them and be generous of spirit to them? Will you offer them counsel and your best love? And will you support in caring ways this commitment of the parents?

We will.

And do you, all the members and friends of this congregation here present promise your care and cooperation with these parents?

We will

And do you, all the children here present, younger and older, promise to offer your own care for these children? Will you greet them as they walk down the hall toward you, and welcome them gladly into your classes, and groups, and help each of them when they need your help and praise each of them for who he or she is?

We Will

Kelly, Kent, Sue and Joe these children have roots both known and unknown. But now they share access, through you, to our ancient living tradition of freedom of the spirit. Seek therefore always to guide but never contain these young spirits, holding them close to the disciplines of your trust and largess, but always blessing them for being who they are, and no one else.

Having said these things, let us bless these children, joining in an act of love and beauty to bless them seven times: with the elements of our common creation, and with the glory of their distinct and beautiful names.

With earth, which is as strong as your given frames, my children, we bless you. Take care of yourselves as bodies, be good to yourselves - for you are good gifts indeed in this world.

With air, which moves and changes even as your given passions, my children, we bless you. You will know contentment and discontent, joy and sorrow, anger and deep love in your life - feel your feelings, my children, for they are good gifts.

With fire, which is as illuminating as your given intellects, my children, we bless you. Think things through, and reason and question things carefully, for the light that shines in your minds is a good gift.

With water, which is as clear as your spirits my children, we bless you. Enlarge in conscience and character, and grow deep and rich spiritual lives, for spirit too, is a good gift.

Your name is Riley, the Irish version, after your grandfather. It comes from an old Gaelic word "raggallach" a word which no one knows the meaning of. Your name reminds you that there is much in this life that you will not be able to figure out, but that your privilege is to live a loving life in the midst of all the mysteries you cannot solve. Your name is Riley.

Your name is Winder which is an old Ohio name from a great-grandfather of yours who won Olympic gold for the United States, and helped out the Wright Brothers when they lived in this state. Let this wonderful name with the word "wind" hidden in it serve to generate the windmills of your mind, so that you rejoice in all the possibilities that life offers you, and that you may take up as many as bring you pleasure. Your name is Winder.

Your name is Harvey Jones. Both parts of your last name speaks of the rich heritage of the British Isles, from the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas to English physician William Harvey and the architect Inigo Jones. Your heritage is the a dimension of your life that is not so much biological as spiritual. Receive its blessings gladly. Your name is Harvey Jones.

Your name is Helen, which comes, we think, from the Greek word "helios" meaning "sun." You share it with one of your grandmothers. The sun, the ancient Galilean once said, shines on all people, not just the one's we like. You too, Helen, be like the sun as your grow older, recognizing that the light of your compassion is most humane when it finds the humanity in every human person, no matter how different they appear to be from you. Your name is Helen.

Your name is Samantha, a lovely name created in the south of this nation a couple of hundred years ago for the beauty of its sound, and not the complex origin it may have in the Hebrew and Greek. Sometimes there is extraordinary meaning to be found in loveliness alone. Sometimes a rose may be stunning even if we do not know its kind. Your name is Samantha.

Your name is Pfalzer. Since you are adopted, Helen Samantha, there are some things about your heritage you may never fully know, but that is true of those who are not adopted as well. And so we celebrate the great richness of your being, the multi-layered African and African American cultures, abundant and rich, echoing with creative forms of music that have transformed every other kind of music on earth. We lift up your Irish and German influences too, the ballads and dances, the stories and songs. You are the new song yourself in this world, Helen Samantha Pfalzer, and we pray your melody shall resound for all to hear.

Please say their names after me.

Helen Samantha Pfalzer
Riley Winder Harvey Jones.

Now in presence of all here gathered, and in the presence of Love Most High, our true end and our best means, you, are Named, and we dedicate you to the living of a good and graceful life. Be blest in our words, be blest in our love and be blest in the singing of this song.

#408 Wonder of Wonders

New Member Ceremony of the Cardamom Seed [Next] [back to top]
Blessing of the Graduates Seniors: An Antiphonal

Our sister and brother Unitarians in the Hungarian-speaking parts of Europe quote these words from the gospel to each other: "Be wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."

We bless you in a similar way: May you have your wits about you, knowing that there is indeed a lot of snake-oil for sale out there. But no matter what, do no harm.

Our Universalist forebear Olympia Brown said: " Make no single person your pole star, but follow the truth wherever it might lead"

We bless you in a similar way: May you live lives of principle, trusting your own conscience. And may you live boldly despite your fears.

Our Unitarian forebear Waldo Emerson said this: "Nothing astonishes folks so much as plain dealing and common sense."

We bless you in a similar way "Speak honestly from the heart as well as the mind, and always use good judgement, asking for help in that regard when you need it.

Call to Silence [Next] [back to top]

The waters from the sky
have fallen less frequently these last few days.
The sun is getting bolder,
and uses the stiff broom of its light
to sweep away the stubborn clouds in overcast skies.

The waters from the sky no longer blow in our faces,
they come with a new subtlety, daintier disguises.
Dewdrops cup in the leaves of shrubs,
and satin sweat falls across runners' backs,
and the rivers themselves have crested now
and are falling back into the center of their beds.

The water of life that wells up in our spirits
grows subtler now too, in this time.
There may be some trace of moisture in our eyes,
or a bare remembrance of a walk by the sea
or a refreshing class of cold water on
warm summer day twenty years ago…
the water of life rises in us now,
the water of connection, remembrance
and contentment that flows in our busy June spirits
as a prefigurement of the living waters
we shall pour into the common bowl
come September.
Let our breaths too be subtler now,
and sounds thin out,
and let this be a time of peace.

(bell sound)

We name the round of those we love,
and who love us, and those who irritate us,
and those who disappoint us. We name those
we miss, who are not here as once they were.
We name their names aloud, or we see their
faces float silently by on the currents
of our inner life, but we name them.
For they are our embrace of creation,
and the way creation itself embraces us.

(Naming)

Oh let me fly now, fly high above the waters of the earth whether they fall as rain or whether they bunch as dew in a leaf.
Let me fly above the living water that flows in my spirit connecting me to all who live and used to live and shall live.
Let me fly away from my self and my concerns
if for but a moment, and flow with the spiritual joys of the music
that falls neither from the sky like rain nor forms subtly on an earthly leaf,
but which lifts up for us all the promise of a paradise time
when all the dreams we announce about love and
community and inclusion are true at last, and for every one, no exceptions.

First Reading [Next] [back to top]
comes from a Statement issued just last week, by Jin Sook Lee, chair and executive director of the National Council of Asian Pacific Americans.

Last week, the Honorable David Wu (Democrat, OR) the only current Chinese American member of the U.S. House of Representatives, was questioned about his citizenship and denied entry to the U.S. Department of Energy where he was scheduled to speak in celebration of Asian Pacific Heritage Month.

Even after Representative Wu showed his congressional identification badge, he and his Chinese American Legislative Director, Ted Lieu, were still not allowed into the building.

"The National Council of Asian Pacific Americans finds the incident appalling," said Jin Sook Lee.

"There have been issues of racial profiling at the Department of Energy when it comes to the Asian Pacific American community. If something as egregious as this can happen to a U.S. representative, then it raises concerns about the working environment for Asian Pacific American employees."

Second Reading [Next] [back to top]
comes from English literary genius George Elliot's famous novel Middlemarch 1872. You will hear one preposition that does not sound right to the modern ear, but I assure you, this is what she wrote and meant.

What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult to each other. (sic)

Homily: The Many and the One [Next] [back to top]

One day in my senior year of high school years, my friend Tom and I went to an afternoon matinee, David Lean's Dr. Zhivago, actually. We were seeing it for the second time. I was moved the first time I saw it, and I was moved the second time as well.

When the movie let out, we were somehow surprised that it was still daylight. The setting sun was orange and bright like a spotlight, turning every east-west street in Detroit into a glowing stage set. I remember thinking how beautiful it all was.

Now my friend Tom was famous among his classmates for his cynical turn of mind and his amazing critical intellect. He was not into poetry, literature or art but into the crisp, engineered solidity of bridges and roads. He was a man set on the practical, and he found most philosophy to be too abstract for his tastes.

Still, he was quite moved by the movie, Dr. Zhivago. He was moved by the passionate love affair of Yuri Zhivago and Larisa Antipova. He was amazed by Tonia's spectacular forgiveness of her husband's love affair. He was taken with the drama and cruelty of a revolution. He was humbled by the place of human lives in human history, more often resembling loose, dry leaves carried off by a raging river than actors on a stage. Moved as he was, Tom began to speak of things I had never heard him talk about before.

When we stopped for a red light, we were facing the blinding orange sun directly. We looked away.

Up above us, we could see from our windows a woman of about 25. She was leaning out of her window, looking at the street scene below. Her arms folded on the sill, she pushed her shoulders forward until her face was caught by the klieg of the sun. She simply glowed.

Tom suddenly said "Do you see that woman up there?" And I said "Yes, of course I do."

The red light changed to green at that moment. Tom pressed the accelerator.

"You'll never see her again in all the rest of your life.

And yet you know what? Her life is just as important to her as your life is to you and my life is to me."

For some reason, this is not what I expected Tom to say. It totally moved me. Maybe it was the emotional state I was in because of the movie, or maybe it was the brightness of the sun which made everything look surreal, but that strange sentence of Tom's has echoed throughout all of my subsequent life as a focus of frequent meditations.

The meaning of his sentence threads its way through almost every sermon I preach. I even may be in this work partially because of the echo of that sentence in my heart.

You see, it is a simple thing to say, but it is profoundly true. Every human person is unique, yet each of us lives with our own uniqueness, not anyone else's. Thus, to me it seems imperative as human beings that we accept each uniqueness for what it is.

Oh I know all the objections. There are the Timothy McVeigh's, the Pol Pots. Everyone can name a list of their exceptions to the intrinsic value of individual human lives. But for me, even though some people are so broken by their own brain biology or by the insane circumstances of their lives that they end up being bent in the soul, and destroying many, their lives are nonetheless human lives. They are not members of another species. I also affirm that not even Timothy McVeigh or Pol Pot asked to be born. They did not come out of their mother's womb intent on murder. They too once lived as babies, without cruel words or any political thoughts in their head. They once both knew only an urgent sucking at their mother's breast.

Somehow, broken and arrogant as they both became, they too were born as human beings. Pol Pot's life was somehow important to him, and McVeigh's is important to him, even though he will die tomorrow.

I do not approve of murder or mayhem. I do not celebrate their ideologies, on the right or left. I don't know…it seems to me that most cocksure ideologies seem to lead to death for somebody eventually.

I honor remorse as something sacred, even though I understand that neither of these two men ever claimed to have felt a moment of that sacredness in their lives. Nevertheless, to say that all human beings, whether we judge them good or bad, are still human, is central to my understanding of the world.

All human beings. The good, the terrible, the shy, the extroverts, the greedy, the saints, the brilliant, the developmentally disabled, the tall, the short, the ones who are mute, the once that talk to much, the ones who cannot hear, the ones who cannot hear even though their ears function just fine, the ones who are angry, who are sad, who are depressed, who are happy, who are petty and who are upset.

No matter what their face looks like, no matter what color their eyes are, nor in what kind of shape they are; no matter what language they think in, Chinese, Urdu, Ibo, Welsh, English, Javanese, some Ainu dialect, a rare patois, it makes no differences. To find the human in everyone, even if we do not like them, even if we fear them, even if society has to lock them up away from everyone else because they are broken and dangerous, this is what our Universalist religious tradition calls to us to do.

If what I say is not true, then the Department of Energy people do not have to apologize for a hundred years for what they did to Representative Wu. You see, all they did was to say No! to him by placing him in a category, by profiling him.

In doing this, they took away his singular humanity, his unique gifts to the world, by tearing him away from his individual worth and placing him in a false and demonized category. I do not know what the source of their prejudices were, any more than I know all the sources of the prejudices people have directed toward me for being an Italian-American (You know how they are!) or for having been raised Catholic (You know how those Catholics are!) or for being gay (You know how those gay people are!) or even for being a man (You know how all men are!) I will never get to bottom of prejudice and the sources that strengthen it. That is not the issue.

Our religious tradition does not imagine that such analysis is even finally possible. It simply suggests that our bounden duty is to fight against such prejudices, abstractions, and profiling with our whole heart, mind and body, at every juncture. We are asked to question ourselves constantly, not just abstract religious doctrines about God or Christ or Buddha. Ourselves. Our own behavior and attitudes. Do we put people in categories, or do we struggle to see their humanity, even if it is different from our own, and even if they have done terrible things?

Again, I do not approve of terrible things. But I also do not approve of denying anyone's humanity, which is one of the terrible things that ultimately feeds violence. McVeigh abstracted the government. He didn't see human beings working in an often undeniably troubling bureaucracy, he saw less-than-human monsters. Pol Pot didn't see individual middle class people in Cambodia, but the abstraction he called the bourgeois. So they both killed off these abstractions, the less-than-human beings. To profile Representative Wu, to blame the middle class, to blame the government, is not any different from saying that Pol Pot and McVeigh are outside the human race, are somehow no longer human, or worthy of our religious struggle to affirm that no one asked to be born who they are; and that the uniqueness of each human life remains that for them, even till the moment of their death. I am hardly asking that we invite McVeigh or Pol Pot for tea and crumpets and say "It's all OK." If you imagine that I am saying that, you really have not been understand what I have been saying at all.

But I am saying that refusing to fight prejudice and categorization each and every day as part of our Unitarian Universalist practice in the world only serves to support the world-views that expressed the brokenness of two very broken human beings. If you ever find yourself talking about those Catholics, those vegetarians, those smokers, those trade unionists, those Humanists, those communists, those Republicans, those homeless people, those fat-cat Democrats, those alcoholics, those drag queens, those Muslims, those runners, those television preachers, those talk-show hosts, those Southerners, those Italians, those Chinese, those Hindus, any category whatsoever, please stop. Just halt in your tracks. Then ask yourself what you really know about all members of this supposed category. Have you personally interviewed them all? Do you know them all? Have you met them all? Had tea and crumpets with them? No?

Then I invite you to join me and struggle hard to not talk of these abstract universal categories. Otherwise, we are doing nothing in any way different from the Department of Energy types. Nothing at all.

If you were horrified to hear the reading about Representative Wu this morning, good. I'm glad. It is what I hoped, really.

But maybe you will join me in letting the horror of that reading serve as a reminder that we ourselves can do the same thing all too easily…and that is, to put abstractions before humanity, categories before individuals, and universal beliefs before plenteous individual experiences.

The purpose of a Unitarian Universalist Church, as I see it, is to exactly what George Elliot suggests, quaint as her grammar is. It's to make life less difficult to each other. Not for each other. We're not sweeping each others floors or anything; but we can struggle daily to find ways to really be present to each other's individual humanity.

Remember, I am not urging us to any foolishness. We have to maintain our safety as best as possible at all times of course. If someone is hurting us, or someone is abusing us, we do not have to stay and analyze why they are doing it. We only have to get as far away from them as we can. We may have to defend ourselves. Being a champion of worth and humanity doesn't mean we have to just take grief from anyone. We may have to come to an understanding of their humanity, so sadly broken, from a safe distance.

But I do think our religious tradition puts a huge demand on each of us. And that is, to be faithful to my friend Tom's sudden great insight in the sunlight, that each human being's life is as important to them as your life is to you or my life is to me. And with that great insight, and with a daily struggle to uplift its wisdom, we might begin to help make a world one day that fulfills a greater promise than the one in which we now live.

Prayer: [back to top]

The one living among the many.
The many not denying the one.
It seems tough. It seems impossible.
So be sharp about this, o my soul.
Don't be fooled. Its not easy.
But you can do it. Be sharp.

The one living among the many.
The many not denying the one.
Mindful, always mindful.
Think things through.
Don't leave stones unturned.
Be fearless about your feelings,
your hunches, your wariness.
Be tough on yourself now and then.
Don't let yourself off easy all the time.
You won't break.
Your tough. So be sharp, my soul,
be sharp.

The one living among the many.
The many not denying the one.
And don't be as afraid of the liberty
that embraces you, the love that places
demands on you, and the joy that
you imagine might one day bless
all people. For remember, you're not
in this struggle alone.
And your faith, your dear faith,
supports you all the way.

[back to top]

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