Seven Days of Faith

Rev. Lyn Cox

November 11, 2007

I. Introduction: Unitarian Universalism is a Faith that Changed My Life

Condensation gathered on the windows of the church boardroom, marking the barrier between the autumn fog outside and the warm tea and decaf coffee in the adult religious education class inside. We were learning about elevator speeches, those little 2-minute explanations of Unitarian Universalism that one prepares in case someone asks about your religion during a short elevator ride. I was getting ready to take a sip of Equal Exchange Earl Gray.

The leader of the class went first. "Unitarian Universalism is a religion. It's a faith that has changed my life," he began. My teacup stopped halfway to my lips. Did he really just say that? It's a faith that changed my life. Are we allowed to say that? He continued, "Unitarian Universalism is a historic religion, going back to the Reformation. Unitarian churches in Transylvania are almost 500 years old. Today, Unitarian Universalists practice our faith through works of justice and compassion." There was more to his elevator speech, but I was still thinking to myself, "Are we allowed to say that?"

Whatever else I learned in adult religious education that year, I learned that it was OK to say that Unitarian Universalism has changed my life. And I learned to notice more often the ways that it has changed my life. Paying attention to Unitarian Universalist values shapes my choices for the better, and helps me feel connected to a long and venerable tradition.

One of the slogans I hear about Unitarian Universalism is, "deeds, not creeds." The way we live our UU values is what draws us together, not our views about God or the afterlife. I think that the implicit challenge in declaring, "deeds, not creeds," is that we have to act and to name those actions as Unitarian Universalist practices.

I didn't grow up UU, but I did grow up in a liberal faith that put an emphasis on action. I remember a folk hymn we sang frequently:

The idea that our actions speak for us and for our community is not something unique to Unitarian Universalists. Because we have so much diversity in terms of our theological ideas, it is especially important for us to let our actions speak clearly. Certainly, our work for justice, equity, and compassion are some of those actions. This morning, I'd like to focus on spiritual practices, activities that help us bring the Unitarian Universalist faith into our everyday lives, touchstones to call us back to the values we hold most deeply. Unitarian Universalism is my spiritual home seven days a week.

I believe that what we get out of Unitarian Universalism is proportional to what we put into it. Spiritual practices help open up avenues by which this faith can change lives. This morning, I'll focus on three areas of spiritual practice: putting together visual reminders of faith, observing some form of Sabbath, and generosity. In other words, I'm going to talk about sacred space, sacred time, and sacred giving.

II. Sacred Spaces: Every Casual Corner Blooms Into A Shrine

Gloria^[2] was one of the classmates I admired most in my undergraduate senior seminar. She was mature yet outspoken, and didn't seem to let things get to her most of the time. She carried her tall height with grace, and always wore long dresses with sweeping scarves and sashes. Not only did I like her as a person, I also knew that she was reliable and paid attention in class, so I was glad she agreed to be in my small group for the final project. Gloria worked full time and could afford her own place. She invited me over to talk about the project.

I showed up a little early. She led me through the kitchen, past clean dishes stacked neatly by a mid-century porcelain sink and a plain but well-made kitchen table. In the corner of the kitchen, probably where the wood-burning stove would have been when the house was built in the twenties, there was a small table covered with a brightly colored cloth. It was decorated with framed photographs, a vase of flowers, and a candle.

"That's my ancestor altar," Gloria said as we walked past, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have church in your kitchen. We had a good talk about our project, planned another meeting when the other member of our group could come, and finished up in time for me to get home for dinner. I looked at the altar again on the way out. It was such a simple idea.

In retrospect, I wonder if building an altar where she would see it every day was part of what made Gloria so calm and graceful. When I look at pictures of my grandparents and of the ancestors of Unitarian Universalism, I remember that people who came before cared enough about me to leave a legacy, and I feel less alone.

The idea of sacred spaces in everyday places has stayed with me. I have an altar in my office and reminders of ancestors on the walls of my home. I have a basket that I take with me on the road that includes a travel chalice, altar cloth, and a meditation chime. I find that "worship-in-a-basket" helps me set up for meetings where people remember the larger spiritual purpose and to treat one another with respect. Being around sacred space, even very small sacred space, changes people. It brings a greater sense of wellbeing. Hymn #1 in Singing the Living Tradition speaks to this:

Sacred space doesn't look the same to everyone. When I taught a Coming of Age class, I challenged the youth to set up a sacred space in their room, and to send me pictures or a description. They showed me a wall of posters, a bookshelf with little metal figurines of mythical animals, a CD rack (this was before everybody had an iPod), a nightstand with a chalice on it, an abstract drawing they had made for themselves. I was honored to see these clues into their spiritual lives, and not surprised that spirituality manifested differently for every person. Sacred spaces do not have to be complicated. You don't need to order anything from Home Altar Depot. A shelf or a basket holding items that mean something to you is all you need to turn a casual corner into a shrine.

Regardless of the form, sacred spaces in our everyday lives are reminders that transcending mystery and wonder are everywhere. Our deepest values are relevant at home, at work, in the car, as well as at church. I believe that it's easier to remember those values when we reflect them in our normal environment. In addition, spending the time creating those sacred spaces requires that we think about those values and about how to represent them in concrete form. Creating sacred spaces is a way to care for ourselves and for the other people who inhabit the space, either in body or in spirit. Creating sacred space honors the place, the people, and the time involved.

III. Sacred Time: Sabbath Moments

Time is the second way to think about spiritual practice seven days a week. Sabbath-keeping is one way to approach sacred time. Sabbath is intentional time set aside when authentic relationships have room to grow and people have time to wrestle with the topics that are most important. Sabbath means facing up to what is essential and real, meaningful things that are blurred when we rush past in pursuit of busy lives.

I live in an interfaith Jewish-UU household. When we're at home on a Friday evening, we light candles and say Kiddush before dinner. We close our eyes during the candle lighting blessing, and when we open them it's like opening a gift. We look at the candles for a moment of shining, silent peace before greeting each other with "Shabbat Shalom!" and "Good Shabbos!" It's as if we hadn't just seen each other a minute ago before we closed our eyes; we see each other clearly in the light of the candles.

There's a UU family I know who have a tradition of lighting a chalice every night at dinner. The parents have told me that their son, who usually finds it difficult to concentrate or to sit still, pays rapt attention to the candle flame as he lights the chalice with a steady hand. For a little bit each day, he and his parents are focused on a symbol of their faith.

I think that, for many spiritual practices, the perfect is the enemy of the good. Imagining the perfect home altar gets in the way of creating one at all. Anxiety over musical talent keeps people from learning hymns. It's the same with sacred time: I worry that some people don't take any sacred time at all if they can't commit to a whole 24 hours every week. Spirituality is hot stuff; everybody needs to figure out the most comfortable distance for them in relation to the flame.

Sacred time can start with Sabbath moments: periods of time long enough to allow people to let the time affect them, but short enough that it's not too much to implement all at once. Schedule a manageable chunk of time and keep the appointment. Remember what that time is for: giving authentic relationships room to grow and wrestling with things that matter. Sabbath moments are not free time ready to be filled with yet more ways of being busy.

My favorite Sabbath moments have been informal. I'll be gathered with people I care about at a time we've appointed but with no particular agenda. We'll be listening to music or playing a board game or reading something out loud together and it will spur a big question: What is the purpose of humanity? Why do bad things happen? What does it mean to live a good life? The conversation unfolds differently every time. The format isn't the point; being fully present is the point.

Congregations can help people to schedule Sabbath moments. Maybe you are in a small group ministry, keeping a regular practice of sacred time and conversations that matter. Maybe you're helping to plan an intergenerational event when people of all ages can build relationships with people who share their values.

Sabbath moments can start with a single hour, or it can start with a retreat. Breaking the routine of filling every minute with multi-tasking isn't easy. Youth cons, Young Adult cons, and intergenerational UU summer camps like UUMAC^[4] are opportunities to begin a new habit of marking sacred time.

There are conversations, thoughts, and feelings that happen best during time set aside for being fully present with people and big questions. It takes awhile to get through the trust-building and past the distractions that prevent us from getting to the heart of the matter.

If I'm serving as an advisor at a youth con or attending a young adult con, I can predict a certain flow. There's the initial excitement as friends who haven't seen each other in awhile exchange exuberant greetings, and newcomers try to figure out a way to enter the community. There's some running around to settle the logistics of the retreat like where to put things and where people will sleep. There's some grumpiness from people whose meal schedule got thrown off by the journey. There's an ingathering when a collection of people start to gel as a community.

Somewhere in the middle, there will come a time when I'm sitting quietly near one or two other people, and we'll amble through small talk long enough to get to a deeper level. Someone will mention a loved one who is seriously ill, or mention a conflict in their family involving views about God, or wonder out loud about choosing a career with UU values in mind. The conversation will be compassionate, honest, and thoughtful. Concepts that have been introduced in worship or religious education form a common ground to which people can add their personal experiences. The conversation may last a few minutes or an hour before a scheduled activity intervenes or the group moves on to a less intense topic. It doesn't matter; that opening in the conversation touched something both delicate and enduring.

For me, this is the magical moment of a spiritual retreat. It takes time and space for people to lower their defenses enough to be open to the mysteries of life. It's as if we have this turbo mode that keeps us going on days that are overscheduled, but bypasses the connection between our heads and our hearts. Sabbath moments disrupt the turbo mode and restore connections.

IV. Sacred Giving: Generosity as a Spiritual Practice

Sacred space and sacred time are related to spiritual practices that encourage authentic connections to people, to values, and to our UU tradition. Another area of spiritual practice is sacred giving. Generosity grows out of and further encourages a sense of connection.

The late spring sunshine smiles through the classroom windows, promising a golden afternoon of playground time. For the moment, though, Sunday school children in Kindergarten through eighth grade are sprawled on the floor of the large classroom. We've been collecting loose change once a month in Children's Chapel all year, and it's time to decide what to do with our princely sum of about $100.

I take a risk and ask them a leading question. "All year, we've been doing different social justice projects and collecting money to give away. Why do you suppose that is?"

One of the eighth-graders raised her hand and asked tentatively, "Is it to learn more about our religion?"

"Yes!" I did a little dance. That was exactly what I was hoping someone would say. "So, keeping your Unitarian Universalist religion in mind, what are some criteria you have for places to send your Children's Chapel money?"

I was pretty sure that the children had some inkling of what it meant to have UU values. Every week we lit the chalice to celebrate Unitarian Universalism, the church of the open minds, helping hands, and loving hearts. Together we care for our earth and work for peace in our world.

The children decided that they wanted to pick organizations that they knew something about. They wanted the organizations to be helpful and nearby. They didn't want to spend their money all in once place, so they decided to split the offering between an organization that helped animals and an organization that helped people.

After naming their criteria, the children brainstormed organizations they knew about. They had met the educator from the wild bird sanctuary when she visited the Sunday school, so that went on the list. Kids who had gone to the SPCA's Camp Kindness summer program wanted the SPCA on the list. Happy Tails, the no-kill animal rescue, also went on the list. The kids had heard about the Interfaith Hospitality Network shelter that our congregation participated in, so that went on the list. We gave toys and canned goods to the Food Bank at Thanksgiving, so they remembered to put it on the list.

For the organization that helped people, the children picked the Interfaith Hospitality Network by a fairly clear margin. They had a harder time coming to a consensus about the organization that helped animals. The SPCA was the initial favorite. The kids who had been to Camp Kindness knew a lot about the SPCA and lobbied heavily for it. Some of the other children were passionate about the no-kill policy at Happy Tails. The group eventually decided to split the pot again, giving money to two organizations that helped animals and one organization that helped people.

As the kids got deeper into their debate, they seemed to forget for a moment about the climbing structure outside. I think they may have forgotten about snack for a little while. They were thinking seriously about how to apply their religious values in a way that made a positive impact in the world.

For the children, their priorities came down to relationships with people and animals they could imagine meeting in their own city. I think adults making decisions about generosity have similar priorities. We make commitments based on a sense of connection, and we feel more connected in places where we've made commitments. Generosity is a practice that reinforces our faith in the interdependent web.

When I feel isolated, as if nobody else can or will ever help me and I have to look out for myself, it's hard to be generous. When I'm feeling more confident that others will be around to help me if an emergency comes up, I'm more willing to share what I have right now. It works the other way, too. When I practice an attitude of abundance, declaring my connections through generosity, I feel more confident that others will do the same when I am in need.

Feeling open-hearted and connected with an interdependent network allows us to be financially generous, thereby sustaining the institutions that promote our values. That same feeling of connection also allows us to have a generosity of spirit, a greater confidence that all will be well.

V. Conclusion

Sacred space, sacred time, and sacred giving are three kinds of practices that can help us to be fully present to our deepest values. They are touchstones that call us back to Unitarian Universalism seven days a week. Creating altars, finding Sabbath moments, and practicing generosity unite us in shared action with other Unitarian Universalists, those who are with us today and our UU ancestors going back to the earliest threads of our faith. Spiritual practices connect us with the living tradition we share.

We will work with each other, we will work side by side. It's possible that our spiritual practices will speak for us, declaring UU values in a world that needs to hear them. Bearing witness is important. Perhaps they will know we are Unitarian Universalists by our love. My hope is that WE will know we are Unitarian Universalists by our love. I hope and expect that spiritual practices around sacred space, sacred time, and sacred giving will make this faith relevant seven days a week, a sustaining force in all of our lives.

May it be so.

^[1] "They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love" by Peter Scholtes
^[2] Not her real name.
^[3] "May Nothing Evil Cross This Door" words by Louis Untermeyer, music by Robert N. Quaile
^[4] UUMAC is the Unitarian Universalist Mid-Atlantic Community, July 20-26, 2008, at DeSales University. Visit http://www.uumac.org/ for more information.

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