|
Senior High Service
Two Excerpts
May 4, 2003
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
Kyle Narsavage
Seventeen years ago on this stage, I was welcomed into the Cedar Lane
community. Now today, in a way, I am saying goodbye to this church. Wow—has
time flown by.
Many of you may know me as Jedd’s younger brother…the class clown of the
senior seminar class…or simply as Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer at the Dessert
Theater.
Cedar Lane has been a great place for me to go—and I’ve been coming every
Sunday since I was a little kid. I am one of the only kids to go all the way
through, from Duso to Senior Seminar. Some of the others have taken "breaks"
from Sunday school. Or they just haven’t had the endurance to go through all
of Sunday School—to be the Ultimate Unitarian.
I was told that this year we didn’t want to have a ceremony that was gloomy
and sad. No problem. Most of the time people can count on me to brighten up a
situation.
But I can’t guarantee anything in this speech. For years, I’ve seen seniors
get up here with great confidence—and end up breaking down.
I’ve thought to mysel, " That won’t be me. I’m strong. I’m a man—I don’t
cry." But now I can’t guarantee that I won’t break down by the end of
this. When my brother stepped down from this podium four years ago, there
weren’t many dry eyes in the room—including my own.
Over the years, I have loved every minute here at church. This was a place
I could come and never worry about anybody making fun of me, or judging me. Of
course, I knew that from my family. We’ve always joked about the comic strip
in which a minister says he loves playing the Unitarians in the church
softball league, because they go by the theory of "Three strikes and you’re
special."
This has been my home away from home. I have gained friends and memories
that will last me a lifetime.
I remember Haunting House. I walked into that class eager to make the
scariest cardboard house Cedar Lane had ever seen. I did this, of course,
thinking that the title of the class, "Haunted House," meant I was supposed to
make a scary house. But somehow I ended up making the prettiest house
in the class. It had flower pots and colorful curtains. Now what does that
say about me?
I have great memories of St. Lucia Day…and a girl’s hair catching on fire.
Next to Christmas Eve, that was my favorite holiday. And how could I forget
everybody’s favorite—Bible class. Everyone loved that class.
It certainly had a reputation: "The only Sunday school class with
homework." Oh man…was that appealing. I remember having to memorize the
principles of the Unitarian religion. Well let me tell you, I wanted no part
of that. I was thinking to myself in class, "Look at these fools, trying to
memorize everything. Why memorize this stuff when I don’t get a grade on it?
I’m still going to be special."
OK, I did memorize the principles. But now it’s true confession time:
Today, I don’t have the faintest idea of what they are.
I loved selling donuts to go to Boston in freshman year. But what I
loved even more was developing the skill in my sophomore year to
persuade the freshmen to slip me a free donut now and then. Hey, was that one
donut going to mean they’d only make it to Providence, instead of Boston? Come
to think of it, I’ll probably try to score a freebie today, after the
ceremony. That’s always been the perk of coming to church—donuts.
Of course, I can’t talk about classes without mentioning the all-time
favorite—Sex Ed., in 8th grade. Every Sunday I’d bug my Mom: "We
can’t be late Mom. I’ve got class." No kid ever wanted to miss that
class.
My group—the seniors today—had sort of a reputation around the church.
Funny…it seemed like every year a teacher would "retire" the year my grade was
coming through their class. And then they’d miraculously come out of
retirement the next year.
My class was known to be a bit of a handful—and I hated that. I hated it
even more in third grade, when my Mom and her friend, Michelle Fill, decided
to teach my class. Now how embarrassing is that—to have your mom teach your
class? But I respect her for why she did that. I love her for what she did for
me, and the sacrifice she put into that class every Sunday.
I’ve had great memories of watching my brother perform in the Dessert
Theater, and wanting to be in it myself. Soon enough I was…for three
years…being just as big of a jerk as my brother was—and loving every moment. I
know this sounds like exaggeration, but Dessert Theater might have been one of
the best times of my life. The friends, the comedy…the cross dressing. And, of
course, Vanilla Ice.
All these memories have helped to shape me into a pretty good guy—a person
who cares about his church, and who loves coming every week. You have done
that for me—and I thank you. You have taken a young nervous boy in Duso class
and shaped him into a young man leaving the Senior High Seminar. After going
to an all-boys Catholic high school, I loved coming here, relaxing, and not
listening to priests tell me how wacky Unitarians are.
Next year, I’ll be at Penn State University. I will not have this place to
call home every week. There will be a void in my heart every Sunday. I will
always be proud to call myself a Unitarian, and more importantly, proud to
call Cedar Lane my home. You have watched me grow up from a chubby little kid,
to a skinny high school kid. And I’ve watched the church grow with me.
So now—this is it. I have come to the end of my Sunday School career. It
seems like yesterday I was being carried onto this stage by my parents to say
hello to the church. To ask for your guidance. To ask for your support. And
now it is my time to say goodbye.
But as my brother did four years ago, I will quote my grandfather on
something he always told us.
He said saying goodbye was too strong, too final. "See You Later" was a lot
better, and the way he liked to say it. And I will return to check up
on my home away from home—Cedar Lane—every once in a while.
So Cedar Lane, I would like to thank you ever so much for everything you
have done for me and given me while I’ve been here. I will always love this
church from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for a wonderful ride.
See you later, Cedar Lane.
Suzanne Wilson
Cedar Lane has always been an essential part of my life. I can’t remember
life before it, and I don’t really want to. Getting up for Sunday School has
never been a chore for me as it has been for many of my friends. I’ve relished
in the chance to come to the place I consider my second home and to see the
friends and extended family that have supported me for so many years. I’ve
grown up with Kyle and Julia. The three of us have been together since we were
2. We’ve learned about Duso and his Marine life friends, STDs and we’ve
explored the Boston subway system. I feel honored to be graduating with all of
the seniors who I consider to be some of the most individual and unique people
I know.
Being a Unitarian for me, hasn’t always been easy, but it’s certainly been
rewarding. There were always those questions in elementary and middle school
about if this strange religion really existed. The fact that we were learning
about sex in church seemed very unbelievable to most of my friends. I would
always whip out the card that I carried around with the principles written on
them. Listing the principles never really made sense to a seventh grader, but
it always quieted them pretty quickly. Cedar Lane does not provide an
established set of beliefs and for that I am now very thankful. I used to envy
a bit those friends who went to churches that told them exactly what and who
to believe in. Their faith seemed infallible and unwavering. They felt
indestructible because their faith was concrete. However, here I have been
encouraged to search for my own beliefs and to decide for myself what is
important in life. I feel that I have become a more open-minded and thoughtful
person, because I have been raised in a place where this searching is not only
encouraged, but is expected.
This year has seemed more difficult than any I can remember. Maybe this is
because I’m older and am aware of more of the world around me, but for
whatever reason between colleges, sniper attacks, and war abroad, I’ve had to
question my faith more often. When my friend was killed earlier this year in a
car crash, many of my friends went through a period of questioning and
abandonment. We couldn’t understand why someone so young, so full of life,
could loose hers so quickly. While I understood no more than my friends, I did
know that I could come to a place and discuss my problems, my questions, my
concerns about my faith without being punished or cast away. I found comfort
in the faith that had been established by me, rather than dictated
to me.
I enjoyed my childhood, including the times I spent at Cedar Lane. It was a
time when I felt secure to be myself without the constraints of labels and
expectations and was encouraged to question my place in the world. As I leave
for the University of Pennsylvania in the fall, I’m excited for the challenges
that lay ahead. I admit, the Quakers might not be the ideal mascot to rally
behind during a football game, but I know that I’ll be in an environment where
I can continue my search for the truth, and never stop questioning myself or
the world around me.
Office@CedarLane.org
| 
