Sermon

INTRODUCTION: What if you were thinking of sending out a letter inviting people to be part of starting another liberal religious congregation in one of the most conservative corners of Florida? Would anyone accept your invitation?

That was my question in the winter of 2000-2001 in East Lansing, Michigan. From the dining room table of my apartment, which I also was using as a computer table, I looked out onto a record snow fall in my back yard – gobs and gobs of snow, as the weather people would say. There were these enormous icicles hanging down from the roof that looked as if they could be used as lances for knights in jousting contests. Plus, it was bitter cold outside. Should I or should I not write such a letter?

Before answering that, let me share a story from this amazing little book of Jewish scripture entitled, Esther. It’s even hard to find. But, if you hold the bible up and divide it half and half, you should probably get the book of Psalms. The two books preceding Psalms are Job and right before it, the book of Esther. Or failing that you could simply turn to the Table of Contents, and find the page number!

Would you believe that this book tells a miraculous story of the deliverance of the Jewish people, and in so doing, never once mentions the name of God? It’s almost a feminist novella, with beautiful women, a harem, a ruler who kills at the drop of a hat, court intrigue, and the rescue of a people by the actions of a brave woman.

And when she was at her most threatened, her adviser said to her, “Esther, this may be why you’re here…what you do may make a difference.”

I was in E. Lansing, Michigan. I thought of the bright sunshiny days here most of the year, the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, green grass and palm trees everywhere. Then an icicle crashed from the roof. It seemed like a voice came piercing through the icy wintry haze saying, “Florida, yes! Cold, no.” Clearly, God had spoken.

I wrote the letter and with the help of Lou and Barb Pizzini mailed it to all those whom I thought might be interested, inviting them to come to Gulf Harbour Golf and Country Club in South Ft. Myers on Sunday afternoon, Feb. 19^th, 2001 at 4 p.m. On that date, I flew down and met with them where we discussed the question: Should we or shouldn’t we? They voted overwhelmingly that we should.

Once we decided that, we moved on to what name we would give ourselves? Most favored was “Gulf Coast Community Church.” But several didn’t like that, and Gina Gaudette persuaded us to choose a name based on who we hoped to be rather than the geography of where we were located, hence, “All Faiths.” Jim Nathan asked, do we want to include the word “Unitarian” in our name, so that people have an inkling of our theology, which we agreed to do – “All Faiths Unitarian….” And then Haneef Ramay, a Muslim, and Bill Berman, a Jew, both spoke about our choosing the word “congregation,” which is not a specifically Christian term, rather than “church.” As a result: All Faiths, Unitarian, Congregation.

So once a month, beginning in March 2001, I came from Michigan to Ft. Myers for Saturday morning planning sessions and worship services held at Temple Beth-El. Finally, in September, on the Sunday after “9-11,” we began Sunday services at Dunbar Middle School, located off of Colonial, near I-75.

Seven years later, here we are. We actually did it. Clearly, it was God speaking in East Lansing through the icicle! It’s why I was here.

We’ve had so many good things happen together. And some of the things we’ve learned together are these:

That is not the same as saying what we believe is unimportant. Rather, it’s so important that we’re unwilling to stop searching and doubting and wondering and believing to improve our understanding. Because it’s the process of faith, not the product…it’s the journey, not the destination…it’s the wonder, not the way, which is really what faith is all about.

And along the way there will be detours and side trips and rest stops…they are all a part of the process. We believe, but always “Subject to change.”

Why is that? Why can’t we simply say what we believe, pass a resolution, chisel it in rock, forge it in steel, and say, “Here I stand…I can do no other!”

For one simple reason: We believe that the only absolute that we’re absolutely sure of is there are no absolutes. And the only thing which the Universe seems to dictate clear and loud is that change is the vector of every angle.

2. The religions of the world have created a vocabulary of faith, a poetry of existence.

If life is all about the journey and the ongoing discovery, then while we’re on the journey, why not use the resources of all those who have traveled this way before us?

We will read their books, and sing their songs, and share their insight, because they might help us make it to Friday, to Monday, or next month. Maybe they have something that we can use in the journey of life.

Further, if the claims of the religions of the world are understood as beautiful poetry, then we will treat each with respect. And in so doing, we may discover some of the life lessons that they have to offer. Rather than believe they are absolute conclusions, we will appropriate them as poetic approximations of the encompassing mystery of our existence.

What that means is we know that, the world of which we are a part is an enormous Mystery. We are such tiny, infinitesimal Parts of the Whole, that it is beyond our comprehension to understand the when and wherefore of it. Like the six blind men describing an elephant, so are we when it comes to explaining our Universe. And even when new scientific discoveries occur, or new scientific systems such as the new physics inform us, there is no doubt at all, that the Mystery remains. It’s only a matter of determining how we will respond to life’s continuing questions.

The religions of the world provide us the vocabulary with which to respond. They give us songs to sing and stories to tell. They give us sacred scriptures, spiritual practices, and the accumulation of millennia of efforts.

A few days back, I communicated by e-mail with Karen and Jim’s son, Adam Nathan, to set a time that he and his fiancée could come down from Chicago for pre-marital counseling. They are such a good looking couple, so in love, so committed to making a difference in their world. I will have the honor of uniting them in matrimony in June. What a wondrous part of the Mystery love is.

Then this past week my son called and told me that he and his wife had been to her physician, and during the visit a sonogram had been taken. Unwittingly, a staff person had told them the gender of the baby. It’s a boy to go along with their beautiful little girl, Ella! I wanted to sing, “What a wonderful world.” What a glorious mystery conception, gestation and birth are.

But sometimes the Mystery that unfolds is not so glorious. It’s a couple of bee stings in Mexico that led to the death of our dear Pete Forcey, whose memorial service we will hold March 3^rd.

Sometimes the Mystery is a dump truck that runs a red light and puts Ingrid Martinez-Rico in intensive care at Lee Memorial, where she still remains.

Some theologies would try to claim the good as an expression of a wonderful and loving God up there, and the bad as somehow our fault or Adam and Eve’s. That all of this is a part of a giant plan that will be resolved in the great beyond in the bye and bye.

But don’t believe it for a moment. It’s all a part of the encompassing Mystery of existence. And whatever our faith may be, the Mystery before which we all stand remains.

What faith does do is tell us how critically important this moment is. In those times when we pause to take stock of our lives and world, we have the poetry of the world’s religions to inform us, to inspire us, and to guide us. And while we’re traveling life’s pathway, at this Wayside station we’ve known for the past 7 years as All Faiths, we’ve discovered that the point the poetry is trying to make about the Mystery is to love: Love God, love ourselves, and love others. It tells us don’t forget to tell those we love that we love them – whether it’s today or tomorrow or next week. Make it count. Fill life with love. Or to put it another way:

What that means is our faith may include an historic repetition of an ancient creed…it may possess a book of sacred scriptures revered by followers around the world…it may include a phenomenal story of an outstanding teacher, a prophet or sage.

Creeds sometimes give focus and comfort…sacred scriptures inspire and inform…but we’ve come to believe at All Faiths that they are an unfinished symphony until performed in the hall of living. Faith’s testimony is not only the words we say but also the lives we live. That’s another way of saying that it’s the practice of faith that completes our belief structures. Faith is poetry, but it’s also practice. But how do we practice it?

At All Faiths, we believe that we practice our faith when we do something as simple as go to the grocery store…and interact at the check-out counter with the middle-aged clerk…who has been standing on her feet all day…who has children who will be waiting up when she gets home…who is barely making enough to pay bills…who is afraid her ex-husband is not going to pay his child support again this month.

And then you or I come in to the checkout line. This is where the real test of faith comes: How do we treat others? It’s not only what we say we believe here on Sunday morning, but what we do at the grocery store. Do we smile? Do we ask her how she is? Do we express appreciation for what she’s doing? Do we say, “Thank you.”

It’s also the way we respond to the wait-staff at our favorite restaurant, it’s how nice we are to the telephone solicitor who is working a second job at nights so as to keep food on the table, it’s how we interact with janitors and maintenance workers, it’s how we respond to postal clerks, garbage crews, and landscapers. That’s how our personal faith is lived out.

So whatever it is that we say we believe at All Faiths – and there are almost as many different beliefs here as there are people – whatever our personal belief, we know it’s incomplete until we leave this service and encounter another person in need. Then we complete our faith by our acts of loving kindness.

When I sent that letter out in January 2001, I’m not sure what I expected might happen. One thing I do know is I never realized what a sense of community would evolve. One of our members helped us to start meeting in groups apart from our services, and for lunch on Sundays. Another turned our Joys and Concerns into an art form. Another made our music program an inspiring experience. Another built our organizational structure. Another kept our finances on track. Another worked with our religious education. Others met in committees, coordinated meetings, gave money, attended and greeted, helped with set up. Others came regularly, and provided continuing support. And because of all of them – because of you – here we are today, seven years later on this Founders Day.

For this and much more, we give thanks on this Founders Day 2008. So let us join now in a prayer of thanksgiving. I’ll make a statement, and then if you would please, respond by saying, “We give thanks.”

For every breath we take, for every beat of our hearts, for every sensation of our bodies:

For the ear that listens, for the hand that caresses, for the arms that reach out in love:

For these seven years, for the people who made them happen who are no longer here, and for all of us who are here:

We will pause now for 7½ minutes of brief questions as a part of our Conversation Café. The Service and Support Council will provide microphones for you to speak into, and Ed will assist us with our time.

[1] A sermon presented on our 7^th Anniversary of Founders Day (2001) February 17, 2008, at the Conversation Café of All Faiths Unitarian Congregation, meeting at the Crestwell School, 1904 Park Meadows, Ft. Myers, FL, between the Rev. Dr. Wayne Robinson, minister.