EATING TOGETHER A Sermon for a Unitarian Universalist Pledge Drive

EATING TOGETHER
A Sermon for a Unitarian Universalist Pledge Drive

James Ishmael Ford

3 April 2016

Pacific Unitarian Church
Rancho Palos Verdes, California

If you’re visiting us today, congratulations, you’ve arrived on our annual budget drive kick off Sunday. Of course this also means you are here on a Sunday where there’s a little more elbowroom than usual. Feel free to spread out.

I’m going to begin with a story meant to complement our retelling during the children’s time of Stone Soup. This one a bit more contemporary, told by Chris Carmichael at his Sacred Sandwich Blog. My version here is slightly abridged, and you might want to look up the longer one sometime.

“Tragedy struck Langley Baptist Church on Sunday afternoon when every covered dish at the church’s monthly potluck was a green bean casserole. Stunned onlookers watched in horror as family after family arrived with the same popular side dish… By the time grace was said over the meal, there were over twenty-five green bean casseroles lining the buffet table with no meat dish in sight.

“Marilyn Perkins, supervisor of the Langley Baptist potluck, recalls the terror of witnessing the casseroles flooding in. “I’ve heard scary stories from other churches about excess hominy or okra, but you never think it’s going to happen to your church… All I could think at the time was, Why us, Lord… why us?”

“Despite the initial panic, church officials were able to restore order and send people home without further incident. Reports of one member being detained for trying to sneak extra wafers out of the church’s communion tray could not be confirmed.

“In the aftermath of the ill-fated potluck, theories abounded as to why this catastrophe took place. Speculation on the cause ran the gamut from the 25 cent sale on Libby’s green beans at McGonigle’s Market to a sign of the Apocalypse. The main theological issue under debate, however, was whether it was part of God’s sovereign decree or the tragic outcome of man’s free will exercising the right to bring a lame side dish to church.

“Seven-year old Kenny Myers, son of members Todd and Carrie Myers, tried to put things in the proper perspective. “I’m just glad they weren’t brussels sprouts. Seriously, I woulda puked.”

Personally, I love Brussels sprouts. And, in truth I really like green bean casseroles. In fact I have such positive memories from my childhood Baptist life of those green beans combined with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup and topped with French’s French fried onions becoming through some mysterious alchemy of the heart an ultimate delight, that I always eat some whenever I find it. I’ve even been known to ask Jan to draw upon her ancient family recipe to prepare this queen of comfort foods for Thanksgiving. And she does, although the green beans are fresh and the sauce home made. But, still…

That said, I think the way we handle the Sunday brunch here at Pacific Unitarian solves most of the traditional potluck problems. So, maybe it’s not a potluck properly speaking, but what we do completely captures the ancient spirit of that shared meal and brings it alive and well to our time and our place, today, and up here on the hill.

A shared meal, whether potluck or as we do it planned a bit more deeply, is for me the great symbol of spiritual community within the western tradition. So, I’m more than pleased we’re so good at it here. Food is the most amazing symbol of our humanity, so basic, so fundamental.

The Christian communion, a divine meal based in the Jewish Passover meal, echoes ever more ancient gatherings to eat in celebration of the divine. From the same ages I think of Mithraism and various Norse and Hindu communities all with sacred meals. I find myself thinking of the early twentieth century religious leader Father Divine who found an enormous following largely among the poor and disenfranchised, and who presided at sacred feasts where all were invited and none turned away. Rather like what we do here. I also recall the remarkable spiritual teacher Krishnamurti who sat with friends at dinners, which could go on for hours. Truthfully the list of spiritual communities that see food as central is perhaps identical to the number of religious communities.

Back at the UU church in Providence that I served before coming here we were involved in something called Loaves and Fishes. A half dozen congregations shared the use of a food truck that we stocked up with sandwiches, drinks, and some clothing and then took out into the night swinging by shelters and others spots where homeless people congregate. It’s something amazing, if you will, something holy.

I recall when I was tasked with making coffee and hot chocolate for our patrons. However when that first person asked for coffee I realized I don’t actually know how to make instant coffee. I usually hand grind freshly roasted. So, right off a small if for me embarrassing moment revealing the privilege that marks much of my life. We’re lucky when we have the privileges, and everyone is a bit lucky when we notice them. Anyway, I’m game. And as I am used to a strong cup, I put three heaping teaspoons of the instant coffee into the sixteen-ounce styrofoam cup, even as the more experienced workers looked on in horror. I was quickly relieved of my duties and given napkins to hand out, while one of the old hands was put in charge of hot drinks. Mildly disappointed, I took comfort in knowing even those who simply hand out napkins, are serving.

And I have to admit as I watched my replacement whip up steaming hot cups for people that it was a little like watching a tea master, although much faster. And, as I watched people on line and the way our crowd engaged everyone, and particularly the centrality of the food itself, I felt this amazing sense of recollection, an echo of memories of my childhood Baptist church potlucks, with their green bean casseroles, fried chicken, and for some reason principal in my memory, pies, many different pies. And, very much, what I actually see here at PUC every single Sunday.

Food is powerful And, like for any powerful thing, these church gatherings can be a way of separating people. I recall the hurt when I was first told by a lesbian couple that they knew the religious community they thought was theirs wasn’t when they learned each was expected to bring a separate dish to its potlucks. Food and the rites associated with food is so powerful we need to approach this whole thing with respect and a knowing that food is power, it is a sword, and that sword cuts in many ways. At the smallest edge of this, I think of my own struggles with weight. It is complex.

Anyway, back to that truck and a bunch of us feeding people at various spots in Providence where the chronic poor, those haunted by addiction and mental illness, and those who’ve just slipped past that couple of paychecks into the abyss, people who look just like many here in this hall today – and sharing for a moment with care and respect, some food. Anybody who thinks about it knows that there are issues around access to food that call for actions larger than making a sandwich and giving it to someone. And anyone who has made a sandwich and given it to someone who needs it knows how in that moment there is nothing more important.

Food. Sharing. Powerful forces coming together, and in that coming together some real truths are revealed, truths about community and truths about us, each and every blessed one of us.

Here’s one. While sharing food may be the most powerful of symbols, when it is part of a larger package of coming together into a spiritual community, of sharing, of being present, we find mysterious things happening, alchemies of the heart that make the creation of a green bean casserole very much the least of what is happening. The marinade of our coming together changes us, changes you, changes me at some molecular level. We become new.

Now part of the deal for us is that this gift of transformation isn’t in the hands of some select few. Another example. I think of the time Jan and I drove up to the Boston area where someone we know and feel a real fondness for was ordained a gnostic priest. They look a lot like Catholics, with bishops and priests, and a powerful and compelling communion service at the center of it all.

The commitment to a deeper caring that I saw among that crowd was genuinely moving. And, that centerpiece of sacred meal was powerfully present. But, in the story they embraced the power was held by the priests, who alone could spark the alchemy. That’s not how we do it. That’s not how we celebrate it. For us its that Sunday brunch, where people take turns leading it, top chef as high priest, and people take on various sacred tasks from making rolls to washing dishes. And each Sunday the places change.

I think a lot about the power of our coming together, so dangerous, so important, is found in our individual choice to reclaim the web of relationship in a regular and concrete way, in our coming together, in our being together, friends and people not so close, even folk we may have spent years not liking, but we keep coming back, and being present, and sharing – ourselves as we are, and as we can become.

You may know of the Reverend Lindi Rasmden. Currently she teaches at Starr King, our seminary in Berkeley. Before that she was for many years the executive director of the Unitarian Universalist Legislative Ministry in California. Well, before that she was minister of our congregation in San Jose, where she was my internship supervisor. So, you can blame her for many, if not most of my shortcomings. Although, admitedlly, not for lack of trying on her part.

One thing she was fond of saying, was how a UU church was a spiritual co-op. And, she was right. We’re not a hierarchical institution. We are as they say, a barely organized religion. In our approach to spirituality and community as Unitarian Universalists, it is all about throwing our lot in with each other, sharing food on occasion, sharing time with some regularity, doing things together, and sometimes doing nothing together. There’s a lot in doing nothing, alone and together. But, perhaps that’s for another reflection.

This is our pledge drive Sunday. I’ve been talking about the spirituality of our coming together. But, those very same words speak to the practicalities of our gathering. So, let me step away for a moment from metaphor. For this congregation to be what it is, we need your time, and we need some of your money. No one in a UU church is ever told what they need to give, either with time or money. Each of us must make our own decisions in that regard based on a complex calculus found in our commitments and our abilities in the given moment. And, as Gloria Steinem once said, “We can tell our values by looking at our checkbooks.”

For various reasons we’ve experienced some hard times over the last couple of years. Fortunately, most of that is behind us. And, financially we have arrived at a plateau, where we meet our obligations and we keep our doors open. In my year here I’ve seen a lively community, manifesting genuine care for each other, and in the world, and for the world. On the outreach side I’m especially impressed with our commitments to the seventh principal and with that to the looming ecological crisis, and our seeking ways we can be of use. We also don’t forget the more immediate, particularly I think of our involvement with Harbor Interfaith. We’re okay. And we’re doing good, both here on the hill, and reaching out. But, also, we are limited by our resources.

In particular we are understaffed. Again, we can get by as we are. And thanks to some serious work getting our financial house in order, thanks to an amazing finance committee, and with this a particular shout out to Randy Ripley, we spend our money wisely. And we are under staffed. In order to pay for a full time minister for next year we need more income than our current budget can support. We also really need more hours for administration and custodial services. Simple facts on the ground.

And, I hope as you reflect on our situation and your willingness and ability to do so, that you will consider making a generous contribution in the form of your pledge for next year. What I am confident of is that you all will do the right thing. And, I know the church’s leadership will make the best budget out of what you contribute. I’ve seen the possibilities. And I feel a deep sense of hope.

Here, as we gather in covenant to be present, before the deep mystery of intimacy, we find the doors of the realm of heaven are thrown wide open. And what is it that we find as we look through those doors? What is going on, on the other side?

Well, every religion has a myth or a story or a description of what paradise looks like. Streets paved with gold, and many mansions. Meade and feasts and warriors drinking into the night. Choirs of praise. An endless spring.

For me, it is something like that Sunday brunch here at Pacific Unitarian. Here, where we get just the right amount of green bean casseroles. Here, where it all comes together just perfectly, and everyone gets what they need, and no one is ever turned away.

This is Heaven. This is the Promised Land. A promise to the nations. Our dream. Our manifestation.

Nothing less. Nothing less.

So be it. Blessed be. And, amen.