My formal training in ministry began in the fall of 1993, when I signed up for my first class at Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, D.C.
I remember that I enrolled in only one class that first semester because I wanted to see if going back to school in my late forties—while working as a middle school principle and trying to be a good husband and father—could really work.
After all, I hadn't been in school for nearly twenty years since completing a Masters in Special Education back in the mid seventies.
My first class was the first half of a two-semester course on church history and indeed it did take some time to remember how to format term papers, how to write exams in those little "Blue Books" and how to do research in the library.
But I managed to get into the swing of things and proceeded to take two classes each semester, mostly at night, and I graduated seven and half years later, 2001.
Now, in addition to the formal classes that all candidates for the ministry were required to take, our professors often talked about something they called ministerial formation, and from the amount of time spent discussing ministerial formation early on in my course of study I realized that it was something that my professors thought was pretty important and therefore I should pay attention.
There are lots of stylized definitions of ministerial formation found in seminary course catalogues but in the end ministerial formation simply means coming to an understanding of the kind of minister one wants to be.
It is the process of discerning where one's heart lies in the professional ministry.
Is one called to be a preacher? Is one called to toil in the fields of social justice?
Is one called to the ministry of children and youth? Is one called to community ministry as a drug counselor, a social worker and so on.
I guess even ministry is slowly yielding to the inroads of specialization, and those of us who still serve congregations are like the family doctors of old as we still make house calls; we endeavor to try and serve the needs of our parishioners while trying our best not to embarrass ourselves in the pulpit; and we attempt to serve our broader communities as our time and interests permit.
So as one travels down this road of ministerial formation, it slowly becomes clear that traditionally, there are three roles assigned to most members of the clergy—that of the priest, the prophet and rabbi, or teacher.
In the priestly role, the minister presides over observances of life's passages—child dedications, weddings, unions, and memorial services.
It is in many ways the public face of ministry for it comes into play in most ministerial settings: whether it is offering a prayer at a bedside, giving an invocation in a public setting or presiding over the many rites of passage that characterize our lives.
The prophetic role is just what it sounds like.
It occurs at those times when the minister gives voice to situations and conditions that impact upon segments of society and she or he lifts up matters of justice, freedom and equality.
The rabbinical role comes from the understanding that in some contexts the word "rabbi" is synonymous with the word teacher.
In the Gospels the apostles often referred to Jesus as rabbi when they sought explanations for his actions.
So in the role of rabbi, the minister helps to open up sacred texts, to narrate the stories of faith traditions, and to guide congregations in the ways of living lives that are congruent to their living faith traditions.
As I went about my years in seminary it became quite clear that I was drawn to the job descriptions, if you will, that highlighted the priestly role, I believe that one of my greatest privileges as a minister is being with families with families as they celebrate life's great joys and mourn life's greatest sorrows.
I also find my role as a teacher comfortable and comforting as it culminates my 32 years as an elementary and secondary school educator. I love the reading and the studying that are a part of this job.
So that leaves the calling to be a prophet.
As you may guess, I've left the least of these for me personally, to the last.
There are voices within our movement who can soar to the heights and breadths of social commentary while I attempt to fidget along the edges.
I don't avoid using my prophetic voice; it's just not what is at the core of my being and my ministry.
Priest, teacher and prophet, these three are the traditional roles of the clergy.
Well, that's what I thought for the first few years of my ministry.
But now, with almost six years of experience as your minister, I am tempted to add a fourth role.
One less traditional. One less high-minded and scholarly. One less sophisticated and theologically based.
I would like to add the role of whiner. That's right. You heard me correctly.
I think to be absolutely correct, every new student in seminary should study the roles of priest, prophet, rabbi, and, yes, whiner.
I say this because as unseemly as it may be there are times in every ministry where the right reverend is moved by events to simply want to whine about things.
It may not accomplish much but it can be cathartic and in spite of all the admonishments against whining sometimes it just feels good.
So what I want to whine about this morning is the notion held by many Unitarians Universalists, in many Unitarian Universalist churches that we are right and they are wrong.
What are we right about? I didn't think you'd ask. And I should warn you that what comes next may not be for the feint of heart.
We are right about our liberal dogmas.
We are right about our humanism.
We are right about our rational inductive intellectual processes.
We are right about social issues such as the right to marry, reproductive rights, the right of unions to organize, housing issues, how to manage the homeless and what green causes we ought to support.
We are right in our politics.
We are right that liberal leaning, democrats will win the day.
We are right that conservatives are mis-guided ideological windbags, and we are right that our forward, progressive thinking will lead humankind on toward better and better days by simply embracing liberty, democracy and equality.
We Unitarian Universalists are right in our understanding of climate change.
We are right that our teens and youth should be educated about drugs, alcohol and sex—preferably by experimenting during UU sponsored events.
Yes, it is a grand and glorious day, knowing that we are right and they are wrong.
But who is the "they" I keep referring to? Thank you for asking.
They are sitting right here in this sanctuary every Sunday and when they are feeling gracious they smile and keep their comments to themselves.
They do this until one day the sense of we are right and they are wrong becomes so strong that they leave the congregation.
Often they are not missed right away, because we didn't take the time to really get to know them and what they believed until it was too late.
Often they give erroneous reasons for leaving, "We live too far away; our children are so busy they don't want to attend on Sunday; we found other outlets for our spiritual needs."
In other words, "We're outa here because there is no room for us in this tent that some think is so big but we find rather constricting."
The longer I am a Unitarian Universalist and the longer I try to understand and live by our principles, the harder it is for me to really admit that I fully understand our first principle that speaks to the inherent worth and dignity of every person.
Do I afford inherent worth and dignity just to those:
Who think like I do?
Whose life choices I agree with?
Who votes like I do?
Who believes in the same concept of the divine as I do?
Just who is it that is deserving to be thought of with dignity and respect?
This whole matter is further complicated, by our third and fourth principles that call upon us to affirm and promote—acceptance of one another and encouragement of spiritual growth—is it OK as long as this spiritual journey is congruent with mine?
And how is that search to be regarded in light of our movements supposed support of the free and responsible search for truth and meaning, oh yes, and then there's that minor detail about supporting the right of conscience.
My, My, My, My My......
We're right...and they are wrong.
I'll extend to inherent worth and dignity to you as long as you support candidates of the Democratic Party.
I'll extend to you inherent worth and dignity as long as you are pro-choice.
I will extend to you inherent worth and dignity as long as you support the same green causes that I do.
I will extend to you inherent worth and dignity as long as you think just like me.
We are right and they are wrong.
I will support your free and responsible search for truth and meaning as long as that search doesn't include Jesus, God, Gaia, Bridget; Buddhism is ok but not Christianity and so on.
You are right as long as your search for truth doesn't interfere with my search for truth.
You are free to use your right of conscience as long as it doesn't interfere with my right of conscious.
We are right...and they are wrong.
You might be sitting here this morning wondering what in the world is this all about.
Where in the world did this come from? What have I done to deserve this rant?
Well, those are all good questions, but every year our annual stewardship campaign turns up some folks who have at best lessened their involvement in this congregation and at worst have left because of the kind of thinking that I've been talking about.
Am I exaggerating all of this to make a point?
Perhaps, but not much.
We know that Unitarian Universalism isn't for everyone.
We are by significant majorities a theologically, socially, and politically liberal denomination. This is true.
But we are also striving to learn how to better live in community with one another.
To act in ways that would entitle us to call ourselves a beloved community and sometimes, I think, we fall short.
Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking that we all think alike about the issues of the world.
But we don't.
We can't.
And we shouldn't.
For if we are nothing more than a mutual admiration society there will be no reason to grow. No reason to expand our thinking. No reason to consider another argument, a different reason, an alternative solution.
If we are to be a congregation that truly embraces the inherent worth and dignity of all congregants we need to make room for those whose views may be contrary to ours.
We are not the Frederick County, Warren County, Shenandoah County, City of Winchester Democratic Club.
We are individuals who when we joined this faith tradition agreed to promote acceptance of one another, the right of conscience, and the free and responsible search for truth and meaning.
We did not join an organization with litmus tests, creeds, or dogmas to which all are required to adhere.
It's been quipped that had Moses been a Unitarian Universalist
rather than the Ten Commandments we'd have the ten suggestions.
It gives me great pain when I learn of someone leaving this congregation not because they found a new spiritual home:
But because this home makes no room for their sense of the holy; their sense of life;
their understanding of how things work.
But Henry, aren't there actions, ideas, causes, even people that are harmful to others; that shouldn't be given free access to this community?
I like to paraphrase my colleague Marilyn Sewell who has observed that we Unitarian Universalists are called upon to reject the easy answers and to struggle with the values and conflicts inherent in human life.
We must study and reflect and think and write and get beneath the surface of things, or else we will become facile in regard to these significant moral and ethical issues.
Sewell goes on to suggest that we (who) believe in the 'inherent worth and dignity of all persons' imperfect as we are, are called to be in right relationship with others.
We are called to have profound respect for one another, even when we differ with the views and behavior of another.
We are called to be gentle and forgiving and we are called to understand that redemption is just a step away.
It calls us to leave the safety and security of our own like-minded friends and acquaintances and stand up for truth and justice.
My, My, My ,My My
We are right...They are wrong.
As we get into spring and this season of renewal, let us renew our promise, which each of us made when we became Unitarian Universalists to work for justice, equity and compassion in our relationships with one another.
As we go through our days let us be guided by our Principles, but let us be reminded that at best they are only the least of what we believe.
But let us be reminded that they stand for what is the best in each of us and while there are days when we will fall short, if we truly try to lead our lives according to their precepts then we will become that beloved community to which we aspire.
We Unitarian Universalists are called upon to work for a more just and loving world. Many among us do an amazing job of this outside the wall of this congregation and that is for the good of all.
But this morning I want to call upon each of us—you and me, to work for a more just and loving world within these four walls as well.
My good friend and colleague Gary Smith, minister of First Parish in Concord Massachusetts, has an expression that I love. He has written that ministry is what we do—together.
So whether individually you are called to be a prophet, a priest, a teacher, or, yes, even a whiner, let us work together at this most difficult task that it may be said of the members and friends of the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Shenandoah Valley—ministry—its what we do—together.
If we can do a better job of sharing who we are then maybe, just maybe we will learn that we're not always right and that they are not always wrong and we can truly minister one to another.
Amen and Blessed be