March 12, 2006

Rev. Henry Ticknor
Unitarian Universalist Church of the Shenandoah Valley

Making Our House a Home

This morning I want us to celebrate our home--the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Shenandoah Valley.

I want us to celebrate this building, this collection of wood and nails, drywall and paint. I want us to celebrate the beautiful windows that allow us to be witnesses to the changing of the seasons, to spy the occasional bald eagle, and allow us to replenish our spirits. I want us to reflect on the possibility that this is a place where we can feel at home.

I want us to celebrate the spirit of this building and our community that for so many has become a part of who we are. I want to celebrate a place that gives us permission to be who we are without pretense so that we may be in touch with what is the best in each of us.

You may remember the old saw that goes home is the place that when you have to go there they have to take you in.

Well, I've always thought that was an even better description of how a church community works. Hopefully we are such a place; a place that when folks need to come here, for whatever the reason, we are ready and willing to take them in, to give them comfort and to make them feel at home.

Many of us come here each week because we have found in Unitarian Universalism a religious home. We have found a place where we can be centered and grounded and that feels just right. It is a good and comfortable feeling to be in a place whose values reflect our own and where building relationships is of paramount importance.

We come here each week knowing that our religious home has a solid foundation that has been strengthened and reinforced down through the centuries. The voices of Origen, Arius, Francis David, John Murray, Emerson and so many others who built our faith tradition are present with us.

Some have come here seeking a new home, perhaps one very different from the one they moved away from. Sometimes we just need to find a new place with no bad memories where we can just start over with new stuff and create new memories.

From time to time our spiritual home, like our physical home, is in need of restoration and renovation. There are times when we feel compelled to do some research in order to find out what our home looked like when it was first built.

Through ancient texts, guesswork and the memory of our elders we can keep in mind the dreams and struggles of those who originally built this house.

Here we can be reminded of our Unitarian Universalist principles and be strengthened by knowing that our home still reflects what was best about its beginnings.

I often think that Unitarian Universalist churches resemble old New England farmhouses. Like those farmhouses, many of our churches began as small cottages but as the original families and congregations expanded new rooms and new additions were added until the very small house became quite a large home. When you stand and look at such a building not only is it easy to see the original cottage, but also it is easy to appreciate how it grew and changed over time.

Change happens. Just as many older homes had to be renovated to allow indoor plumbing and electricity, so too, our church home needs renovating from time to time. Why must it be the way it always has been? Why can't we take advantage of the newest technology, the newest thinking, or new ways of managing and organizing ourselves?

Just how big does our house have to be? Is it big enough so that all who wish may sit at the kitchen table and have a place to rest? Is it big enough to be inclusive of lots of different people with differing ideas?

Is it big enough to welcome folks from different backgrounds and different cultures? Is it big enough for the family that wants to live there or will it become necessary to put up a no vacancy sign and turn away those who are seeking shelter and comfort just as we did whenever we first arrived.

One of the comforts of being at home is that generally we know where things are and we have a pretty good idea what time we are expected to be home for supper. There is comfort in familiar surroundings.

So too there is comfort in this home. We know that there will be church every Sunday, we can usually depend on seeing the faces of people we truly care about, and we can count on there being coffee and good conversation.

We can expect a quiet place for meditation, music that will surprise us and inspire us, and we know that there will be room at the table for us and for all who need to be here.

However, the truth that we know only too well is that sometimes living together isn't all that easy. It doesn't take long even in the best of families for issues to come up. Sometimes what we at first perceive to be a petty or minor irritant can quite quickly grow into real anger and hurt feelings.

Even with all of our best intentions, in any home, there will be power struggles, issues around status and recognition, and arguments over who left the dishes in the sink.

Life is no Brigadoon when we are trying to live with others and it often requires mutual consideration and support.

But we do our best. We try to make our homes places where we can be honest with one another and where we strive to be open and inclusive. We try to make our homes welcoming and friendly; not bunkers of hate and prejudice. We try to make our homes places that we can be proud of.

A short poem by Emily Dickinson begins with these words, "I dwell in Possibility...."

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--
Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

When I think of this church and this congregation I often think of these words for I, too, dwell in possibility. I think of all that this church can be. I think of the possibilities that come in the door with each new member.

I think of the possibilities of our religious exploration programs for our children, our youth and our adult members. I think of the possibility of becoming a place where social justice and social action are as much a part of who we are as what we do in this space on Sunday mornings.

I think of the possibilities of a fully funded music program, I think of the possibilities that could result from having our staff available more hours during the week.

Yes, I even dream of all the possibilities in this church's future...and then I wake up. I wake up to the realization that while it is wonderful to dwell in possibility, that alone won't pay the rent.

Before the service this morning I asked some of our youth to build this tower of blocks as a visual reminder of all the things it takes to be a successful church.

It takes meaningful worship with a variety of services. It takes many small group activities so that folks can get to know one another on a deeply personal basis, it takes resources to fund our efforts to be a beacon of justice and liberal religion and it takes a strong membership to hold everything together.

It takes ample room for parking and it takes plenty of seating so that all may feel comfortable.

It takes one-time volunteers and it takes committee chairs. It takes paying the bills and it takes celebrating who we are. As important as all of these efforts are, none is more important than another, for each help to keep the church as solid and as sound as possible.

Shortly we will begin this year's stewardship campaign. (I know, you were hoping against hope that this isn't where I was going with this sermon!) In layperson's terms this is when we will begin to ask all of our members and friends to consider what their financial contribution will be for the coming year.

In short, we will be asking for your help in the continuing efforts to make this house our home. We will be asking you to ask yourselves just what is this place worth to me?

Is it worth five dollars a week to have your children enrolled in a quality religious education program or is it worth a hundred dollars a week to know that they are in a safe place where they can develop into the next generation of Unitarian Universalists. I always love it when someone tells me they are life long UUs...because that journey began in religious education classes.

Is it worth five dollars a week to sit in this room and hear some of the most wonderful and inspiring music you will hear in any church on any Sunday Morning? Or is it worth a hundred dollars a week to support the efforts of our choir, our music director and our many resident and guest musicians?

For many of us music is what draws us to church, and although this day is usually a workday for me, it is during our times of instrumental and choral music that I can center myself and participate in the worship experience.

Is it worth five dollars a week to keep our building and grounds looking fresh and well maintained or is it worth one hundred dollars a week to insure that this space will be just as welcoming and beautiful twenty years or more from now, as it is today.

Yes, much is and can be done by volunteers, but even the most earnest and hard working of volunteers need mulch and fertilizer and plants and our sexton needs cleaning supplies and sometimes even the church needs a plumber or an electrician.

But stewardship is not just an individual thing. I could pull out one or two or even many of the blocks in this tower and the tower would stand, but it would take much less to knock it down. Its strength is in the support provided by each of the blocks; each one doing its part to support the whole.

So this morning, I ask you to join together in supporting the work of this church. I often tell new members to consider pledging between 2 and 5 percent of gross income. And when I say that I see a look in their faces not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of an on coming car. I can imagine the internal dialogue that is occurring at that moment.

"What is he crazy? Doesn't he realize that my kids are about to go to college or high school or kindergarten and that takes money? Can't he understand that we like to go on a nice extended cruise every summer? What about things like food, mortgage payments, all the other important causes that I like to support or even alimony for that matter? Haven't we given enough already?"

And should I be asked any of those questions this morning my response would be this. We support those things that are important in our lives in proportion to their importance. If this congregation is an essential part of who you are and what you believe in then each one of us will give according to our ability and our desire to see this house become our home.

And that is all we ask.

Many of us first came to Unitarian Universalism because we found ourselves in the bottom of a hole in the desert of our spiritual and religious journeys and we were facing the monster of exclusion from other churches for what we believed, for our sexual orientation, or for our refusal to believe a particular dogma or creed.

All we wanted was to find a home that would welcome us for who we are and not to try and make us something we are not.

In Unitarian Universalism and in this beloved community we found such a home. We found a home that nurtured us and sustained us and renewed us. We were all equally welcome the table.

I often we hear people say, "I had no idea such a church existed and I had no idea there could be so many like-minded people!" If you are one of those people, welcome to our house, welcome to our home. We hope you will stay a long, long time.

So when you consider your pledge this year, I hope that you will be generous until it hurts just right. After all, if we are to dwell in possibility the best place to be is wherever we feel at home.

Amen and Blessed be