Sacred Space and Holy Ground
A Sermon Given
by The Rev. Dr. Roberta M. Nelson
on October 25, 1998
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
Readings and Reflections
We moved into the Cedar Lane parsonage at 9714 Culver Street with four teenagers at the beginning of the tumultuous
60s. We were caught up immediately in the protests against nuclear testing, housing discrimination, war, and poverty
on the national level; and intra-church tensions as members divided over these issues, and the large numbers of youth
conflicted over their ideals and the harsh realities of the world scene, with the staff at Cedar Lane called upon time and
again to mediate, organize and minister, particularly at the times of the Civil Rights March and the Poor People's
Campaign.
During this decade many of our church members and friends of the church held significant national positions. Among
these were Federal Budget Director Sam Hughes, and the Kiplingers, Senator Paul Douglas and Emily Taft Douglas and
Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas.
So much went on adjacent to the parsonage! We never missed a thing -- all the way from the Gourmet Club
International dinners (inspired by our many foreign service couples), to the Saturday night dances sponsored by our
youth group, more than 100 strong and increased by friends. Cedar Lane was the place to go and the Montgomery
County Police cruised the area.
We loved the parsonage with its nearness to the church and its open views to the woods. The giant oaks were our
constant reminders as the winds tossed their topmost branches, and their roots reached deep, deep into the ground. They
steadied us and gave us hope.
-- Bob and Jean Zoerheide
The Parsonage
This house was the first home of Cedar Lane Church.
It was built on the hill with an angular perch.
It sheltered four families in comfort and grace,
And each of them made it a welcoming place.
They lived proudly in Kensington, little-known town,
And walked daily to Bethesda, of greater renown.
I think houses, like people, go through different stages.
They grow and adapt to the needs of the ages.
We think that we shape them, determine their look,
To make them reflect us, each room and each nook.
But maybe in all the common ritual of living,
Of coming and going and loving and giving,
Of eating and resting and parking the car,
Ends up with the house the real shaper by far.
Now this house, with its memories galore,
Begins a new era, with excitement in store.
The shades of its children, Baker, MacLean,
Zoerheide and Fritts, will be heard again
On dark wintry nights when the wind in full cry
Echoes whispers of laughter and tears with a sigh.
But these ghosts are not evil; they portend good will;
They are part of the richness of this place that will
In its new incarnation bless Cedar Lane still.
-- Kenneth Torquil MacLean
Homily "Sacred Space and Holy Ground"
Last week I gave my odyssey at the Conference for Liberal Religious Educators Meeting at Snowbird, Utah 40 minutes
outside of Salt Lake City. My odyssey was a lifetime journey of reflections and memories, stories and recollections. I
was struck by the number of times I mentioned my experiences with places, houses, and churches. It is not a
coincidence because, as Richard Gilbert writes, "We meet on holy ground, for that place is holy where lives touch, love
moves, and hope stirs."
The church, for me, is sacred space and holy ground. As many of you know, I have been in love with this theme for a
long time. It had its beginnings when I took part in the development of the Haunting House curriculum in the early
1970s. It was during that experience that I began to envision the church as another home. In many of my readings
about home, I can easily substitute church. Church has to do with our continuities. Church is those people and
experiences that nourish our identities. Church consists of those roots and sources from which our energies of faith,
hope, and love pour forth. Church is giving and forgiving. Angus MacLean, in God and the Devil at Seal Cove, writes
" I deeply cherish the memory of that little bit of earth where I began to have my being."
I invite you to close your eyes and recall your experiences here at Cedar Lane. What do you remember; what have you
shared; who has made a difference in your life; what are your anticipations? Can you get in touch with the sights,
sounds, and feelings of your recollections?
This morning, we gather to dedicate our new Center and Memory Garden. They too will become sacred space and holy
ground. They will become places for our deepest yearnings and honest reflections. These places will be made sacred
by what we do there. Classrooms are places that challenge our creativity and imagination. They will be places of
learning, conversation, commitment, and action. These classrooms will help us to connect the sacred and the secular,
inviting us into deeper, more profound living.
Our Memory Garden invites us to remember. Here is where our heart abides. Here will be remembered those who
have made Cedar Lane a cherished place. Here we will remember our loved ones whose lives have touched ours with
love, hope, and compassion. In this sacred garden space, we will find moments of reflection, strength, nurture, and
harmony, a refuge from the stresses of our daily living.
Gaston Bachelard, in his book Poetics of Space, suggests that houses (I would substitute churches) help us to feel at
home because they shelter us in three ways: They protect our solitude and provide us a place to dream; they protect
our intimacy with others; and they give our memories a home. Our memories shape our impressions into form; they
give structure and justification for the present; and they create a field of meaning in which we place the here and now.
An authentic spiritual life assumes that we start exactly where we are and that "home" (or church) for each of us is
lived at the center of the creative tension between the demands of our daily lives and our need for moments of insight
and beauty.
Our Haunting Houses and Sacred Dwellings speak of continuity of places and people. Here are our loved ones; here is
where our heart abides. In these places, we grow up and out and old. Here parents die, children leave, spouses change,
friendships crystallize. Here we huddle against darkness and despair. Here we honor our yearning, renew friendships,
and continue our pilgrimage toward wholeness. Here we can be rooted and restored. Here we can make life and love
happen.
Meditation
We meet on holy ground,
For that place is holy
Where lives touch, love moves, hope stirs.
How much we need this moment before the eternal,
The time to be in reverence before the ultimate,
The pause that renews,
The interlude that refreshes,
The space that gives us room to be.
We meet on holy ground,
Brought into being as life encounters life,
As personal histories merge into the communal story
As we take on the pride and pain of our companions,
As separate selves become community.
How desperate is our need for one another:
Our silent beckoning to our neighbors,
Our invitations to share life and death together,
Our welcome into the lives of those we meet,
And their welcome into our own.
May our souls capture this treasured time.
May our spirits celebrate our meeting
In this time and in this holy space,
For we meet on holy ground.
-- Richard S. Gilbert
The Dedication
Today we lift up our hearts with joy and gratitude as we dedicate our Center to human uses, and to the service of the
community in which we live.
In this space we will gather to break bread together, to enlarge our knowledge, to share our joys. Here may we learn to
do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.
In our celebration of this new space we do not forget those whose perseverance laid the foundations on which we build.
In honor of those who have come before us and whose examples remain with us, we dedicate our Memory Garden.
To the joy and laughter of young people who will learn and grow into adulthood, we dedicate Our Center.
To the fellowship of young and old, of people in every walk of life; to purposes that serve humanity, we dedicate Our
Center.
Grateful for our heritage, and conscious of the new opportunities opening before us, we dedicate not only our Center
and our Memory Garden, but also our hearts and minds. We dedicate ourselves to walk together in ways of mutual
respect, according to our best abilities.
The House That Jack Built
Several years ago, Liz Underhill, an artist and illustrator., designed and illustrated a retelling of "The House that Jack
Built." In her Artist's Note to the work, she says "I have always been attracted by Jack's House but I feel that Jack
himself is the unsung hero of the story." Undaunted by the enormity of the task, Jack has designed and built a very
substantial house, tackling every stage of its construction.
It is no ordinary house either. It has to meet the very individual needs of a rather unusual assortment of lodgers. Some
of those lodgers were happy with simple, rustic surroundings; others needed an ambiance that would provide
inspiration. Liz Underhill undertook to paint her own version of the house, so that all can see the many wonders of the
house that Jack built.
Your committee for today's celebration saw certain parallels between this popular 18th century story and our own
experience with the Center and Memory Garden. We share some of those ideas with you now.
This is the dream that Jack foretold
Come true in the story we now unfold
Of a Bank of Memory, a Beacon of truth,
A House of Learning -- for adults and youth.
This was the patience that Jack portrayed
When practical matters the dream delayed
Till folks all said, "Let's go, Cedar Lane!"
Let's risk some strain for future gain."
This is the board that gave the word
To make come true that dream deferred --
And the fund-raising team who nurtured the dream
By raising the dough to make it go
And start
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
Then volunteers without overseers
Proceeded with joy to wreck and destroy.
Such eager deconstructors all
Tore up railings, knocked down walls,
Dug up tiles, and pulled out nails,
Till their valuable time tipped the scales
And made way for
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
Architects, designers, planners meanwhile
Caught Cedar Lane's award-winning style.
Electricians, plumbers, inspectors et al
Mastered details and finished by Fall
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
And here's to the painters and people galore
Who built the counters and hung the doors,
And put in the sinks, and laid the floors
With such panache -- a swell decor
Tops off
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
And cheers to the tree huggers who mightily strove
To thin the trees and clear the grove
And salvage wisteria and water the beds
And replant it all when the bosses said,
It's time to landscape
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
Here's part of the dream -- a new teen center
A place of their own where kids can enter
To celebrate life in the UU way
And try their values at work and play.
In this place, a part of our church,
Adults continue their spiritual search.
And here we keep safe our memories archival,
Ensuring our legacy's long-term survival
In this,
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
This is the berm all rounded and smooth
That screens the garden that's meant to soothe.
It shelters a chalice and Memory Wall
To honor the lives of loved ones all.
This is the parsonage, now transformed.
Our souls are filled, our hearts are warmed
By this,
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
Recessional Hymn
The Blessings of the Earth and Sky
The blessings of the earth and sky
upon our friendly house do lie.
The rightness of a master's art
has blessed with grace its every part.
The warmth of many hands is strewn
in human blessing on this stone.
The wind upon the lakes and hills
performs its native rituals.
The worship of our human toil
brings sacrament from sun and soil.
With words and music, we, the earth,
in nature's wonder seek our worth.
Here we restore ancestral dreams
enshrined in floor and wall and beam,
a monument wherein we build
that their high purpose be fulfilled,
a tool to help our children prove
an earth of promise and of love.
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