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The Journey
A Sermon Given
by The Reverend Roberta Nelson
on June 17, 2001
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
In my first Cedar Lane chapel service, I invited the children to ask me any question they wanted to, and promised I would do my best to answer it honestly. Some adults squirmed a bit when they asked me my age and how much I was being paid. There were other questions too, ones about my family, where I came from, and what were the reasons I came to Cedar Lane.
In my final chapel service, I invited their questions again. The first one, "Where did you get that suit?" caused quite a bit of laughter; I couldn't help wondering whether she liked it or not. I was also asked about my age, why I was moving, why I was leaving Cedar Lane, could they write or visit me. The real clincher was from a young man who wanted to know if I had enough money to retire on. I can imagine he heard that question raised someplace else.
Part of me was tempted to offer you the same opportunity, saving me the task of writing a sermon. I have some curiosity about the
kinds of questions you might ask. I've decided to settle for the children's questions. Children are generally more open, direct, and
less embarrassed than adults to ask questions. For me, their questions have been one of the joys of working with them.
Carl Rogers writes about life providing a "flowing river of change, a changing constellation of potentialities" -- that is certainly a
metaphor for how it has been for all of us in the years I have been at Cedar Lane. There have been numerous staff changes, building
renovations and reconstructions, as well as new program directions and initiatives. Each change has brought its options and
possibilities. They have also brought pain, loss, and anxiety. In his book Experiential Religion, Reinhold Niebuhr used shipwreck
as metaphor for feelings of fear, anxiety and despair. It's the opposite of the feelings of gladness or joy that one may experience in
the midst of change. In truth, they can and do co-exist. When we survive a shipwreck and struggle to the shores of gladness, we
often look back in amazement at how we managed to survive whatever was causing such difficulty.
It has been my experience that in religious community we have the possibility of being supported through our shipwreck
experiences so that we can experience gladness on the other side. Many times we come to church in the midst of crisis and
despair hoping to find comfort and healing. Here we can tell our story and be heard. Here we can seek meaning to help us make
sense of our lives. Here we can be transformed. I believe that we as a community have worked hard to create a community where
we care and nurture one another, where we take seriously the role and responsibility of embracing change and growth -- perhaps
not easily, but we have done it just the same. We have engaged with the wider community to heal the brokenness of poverty,
despair, and injustice. We have opened our hearts and minds to exploring new possibilities and changing directions.
It is not easy to take risks, to dream large. Sometimes our first steps have been slow and cautious but in the end we have accepted
the challenge. Some of David Yano's reflections about quilting fit here -- "It is multi-layered, multi-tasked, intricate,
inter-connected. It takes vision, foresight, and imagination." You have done all this with grace, dignity, and faith in yourselves
and others.
In recent months I have been asked "What comes next? Where should we be headed? What do we do to keep us strong and
vibrant?" In many ways, you already are answering these questions in your process of responding to "the flowing river of change,
the changing constellation of possibilities," which is as it should be.
Next year, as you may already know, the Board and the Adult Programs Committee will initiate the Small Group Ministry Project.
This will provide a wonderful opportunity to deepen your religious faith, minister to one another, covenant to be with one
another in both times of terror and torment, and joy and laughter, and, in this process, transform the congregation's call to
ministry.
The Board and the Long Range Planning Committee are also engaging us in a process of articulating our hopes and dreams for
the future and helping us to focus on our long term space needs. I urge you to become engaged; this is a major effort that will
affect us over the next 50 years.
On April 21 of this year, the Congregation voted to join Action in Montgomery. This program promises to involve Cedar Lane in a
major outreach into Montgomery County.
And finally, you are engaged in a search for a new Minister of Religious Education. The person you call will come with new ideas,
strengths, skills, and vision. Your welcoming, caring support will be rewarded many times over.
I would encourage you to consider some other areas for the focus of your attention -- they are my challenge to you. Cedar Lane is
blest with a support staff of incredible dedication, talent, commitment, and care for this institution. I can personally attest to the
fact that I could not have done what I did without their support. Their behind the scenes work at Cedar Lane is known by too few.
I urge you to treat them well -- both with words of appreciation and with remuneration commensurate with their contributions
to Cedar Lane.
Bonnie Beaver, co-chair of the Religious Education Council, calls the lower level of Cedar Lane the "land down under." What can
be done to increase first-hand awareness and involvement in the R.E. program? Do not expect the Council to do all the initiation
for such a change. Fifteen percent of our R.E. teachers and other committed volunteers do not have children in the program, a
high percentage for our UU churches. Even so, there are those among you who could help raise that number. There are other
options, but first you have to make time to visit "down under." You can then visit a class, sit at the administrator's desk, join in a
chapel service. As you do so, become aware of ways to offer your gifts, talents, and support. Your rewards will be great and you will
be creating a truly multi-age community.
I urge every committee to find ways to offer possibilities for inter-generational activities. There are creative ideas floating out
there, pin them down and you will meet very interesting people while building a stronger, richer community. Our young people
are our future. You are their guides and mentors. You are important to their vision of a religious faith.
Gratitude is one of the most powerful words in the English language. It evokes feelings of praise and hope, of courage, promise,
and fulfilment. Gretchen Woods, a UU colleague, writes "This feeling of being grateful releases us from stresses and tensions in
our lives and deepens our feelings of well being." Each of us needs to grow in awareness of our own gratitude because we need to
say thank you, even if we do not always know to whom.
This community of faith has the strength and wisdom to bring you through your next cycles of growth.
As I take leave of Cedar Lane and my ministry with you, I am grateful
for the men and women who in the past faced the challenge of starting this church,
for the men and women who continue the works with dedication, energy, and commitment,
for the families who find in this religious community the values they want for their children,
for the young people who grew up here and returned with their children,
for the care we offer one another in times of joy and sorrow,
for our ability to eat, laugh, and be merry together,
for our outreach into the community allowing us to share our harvest with others,
for the diversity we seek that will challenge us to grow and change,
for the people I work with, staff and volunteers, who have given me affirmation, praise, and challenge.
I will always remember your gifts of love and affirmation. I will recall the times when we passionately, purposefully, and vibrantly lived together. I will follow your future with admiration and love as I remember with gratitude all the simple things that are not simple at all.
From you I've received,
To you I've given,
Together we've shared,
By this we've lived.
Amen.
— Rev. Roberta M. Nelson, DD
June 16, 2001
Meditation:
Roberta Nelson
Thanks Be for These
For the invisible stitches that hold together the fabric of our lives,
For this community pieced together by our unique stories and
experiences,
For all that holds us through the joys and sorrows of living,
Thanks be for these.
For the bounty of our lives, and
For the compassion to share it,
For the larger community of which we are a part,
Thanks be for these.
For form out of chaos,
For pleasure in pattern, color, design,
For imagination and creativity,
Thanks be for these.
For wisdom and foolishness,
For all that is sacred and holy,
For all that we have shared,
Thanks be for these.
Excerpts from Readings and Reflections (The Quilters, November 23, 1997)
Alida DeCoster
One way a quilt is a metaphor for life is in the way it represents transformation. It is like transforming the fragments of our lives into a meaningful whole, transforming chaos into beauty. This, too, is what we are attempting to do in religious community[, to] make sense out of all the bits and pieces of our lives, so that we finally see a pattern of beauty and wholeness.
David Yano
I'd say that quilting is a metaphor for life. It is multi-layered, multi-tasked, intricate and interconnected. It takes vision, foresight and imagination, planning, care and dexterity; perseverance, patience, and enthusiasm; confidence, pride and humility; resignation, understanding, wisdom and practicality -- all of these and more go into making a quilt.
Carolyn Grassel
It is a meditative experience. I love the geometry, colors, and textures of the fabrics. I can become so absorbed in my stitching and watching my hand maneuver the needle in and out of the fabric that I sometimes miss the conversations of my fellow quilters.
I believe that quilts are like life itself. They are a process; they tell a story; they remember for us.
Sandra Harris
Aunt Jessie's Quilt
Her quilt slung on
Our blue velvet couch
Beckons like the comfort
Of grandmother's lap.
Its patterns dance a polka
In my heart.
It calls out joy from the past
From a Tennessee soul
Singing her son
Having her sweet say
Leaving her legacy
Telling her soft stories
To the children who come after.
Never mind that the world
seems mad.
Office@CedarLane.org
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