A Sermon delivered by Reverend Marlin Lavanhar, Senior Minister
At All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, OK
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Do not neglect to show
hospitality to strangers,
for by doing that some
have entertained angels without knowing it.
~Hebrews 13:2
What do you say to a church full of Unitarians just
before they are about to welcome a Pentecostal Universalist, and his
congregation, into their church? There's
no script for this – it's never happened before. What do you say to a congregation that has historically
been predominantly white, just before it welcomes a congregation that is
predominantly African American? What I’d
say is “Yippee!” Yippee, being the secular form of the word “hallelujah” of course,
which means: “Thank God!”
The opportunity to offer hospitality is a blessing
and a gift. And in this case, it is
truly historic. Nothing quite like this
has ever happened before. And it comes
at a time when it seems like our entire nation is entering a new era. The front runners of a major political party
are a woman and a black man. Both of
them have received millions and millions of votes across the country. The next president of the United States may
very well be African American. Nothing
like this has ever happened before. And
many people would have said it could not happen, at least not for a long long
time. But whatever the outcome of the
election, America
is entering a new era. We are at the
beginning of the next stage of freedom unfolding in human history. It’s an era in which many of the old
divisions are starting to fall away – an era when people are beginning to
transcend old barriers.
One of the looming questions of our time is whether
religion will continue to be a source of conflict and war and division. Or will it become an agent of peace and hope
and community among the human family? I
have no doubt that, at its best, religion is meant to bring humanity together
across all our differences.
In religious terms, God’s hope for all Her children
is that we come to know and to cherish one another. And from that standpoint, this transcending
of boundaries, that we are witnessing all around us, is something of divine
proportions.
And in the midst of all this, a church that has
carried the name All Souls for almost
nine decades in Tulsa,
is opening its doors, and its hearts, to a black Pentecostal preacher who has
spent 25 years trying to cast demons out of this place. Something new is trying to burst forth in
human consciousness right here in America,
and right here in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
This is a new day. When
Unitarians and Pentecostals, young and old, black and white, gay and straight,
Democrat and Republican can all find themselves sharing a church and caring for
one another and each other’s children – that's the beloved community. That's creating the kingdom on earth as it is
in heaven. That's the true meaning of the
brotherhood and sisterhood of all humankind.
These are historic times, friends. And instead of sitting on the sidelines, watching
other people do the difficult and culture changing work of transcending
boundaries, we are rolling up our sleeves and putting ourselves on the front
lines to do something that's never been done before. There's no place I'd rather be. There are no other people I'd rather do this
with. And there’s no better way to spend
our time on this earth.
I’ve said it before, our forefathers and mothers gave
us the vision of a new and different kind of nation. A nation that has been drawn from all the
peoples of the earth. A nation drawn
from all nations. A country where
differences can be celebrated not just tolerated. A country not bound together by blood and
soil, but by a belief in the brotherhood and sisterhood of all. In that sense we have a country that has the heart
of a religion.
But far too many religions have the heart of nations
at war. Too many religions act like they
need to defend themselves against hostile forces. Too many religions are fortified and
xenophobic and live in a cold war mentality.
Well, the Berlin
wall of backward beliefs is beginning to crumble. And as the walls that divide us fall down,
the kingdom of heaven on earth will be built from the rubble.
So here’s what I would say to a Unitarian church and the
incoming UCC church with a Universalist theology and a Pentecostal pastor. The Rabbis tell us Abraham kept his tent open
on all four sides, so that no matter what direction a person was coming from, they
always felt they were entering through the front door. I want the members of New Dimensions church
to know that wherever they are coming from, theologically, geographically,
culturally, economically, spiritually, physically, that they are welcome in the
church of All Souls.
Ultimately, it’s not my church. And it’s not the members’ church; it’s not Tulsa’s church. It is God’s church. And everyone is welcome in God’s church! All Souls is a cathedral built to God, and
the human spirit, and all are welcome. It
is the fulfillment of the prophet Isaiah’s words proclaiming: “For my house will be called a house of
prayer for all nations.” Here at All Souls we have a wide variety of
believers and skeptics, but every week we agree on three things:
To dwell together in peace,
To seek the truth in love,
And to help one another.
Anyone who can live by that covenant is welcome in
our family of faith and promise. We say
each week that Love is the Spirit of this Church. And Service is its Law. Let us show New Dimensions church the incredible
Love that is the spirit of our church. And
let us remember the law of service, which is not so much an obligation, as it
is a privilege.
In the days of Abraham, and of Jesus, custom would have
the hospitable hosts wash their guests’ feet.
Carlton
said it would be okay with him, if I’d just shine his shoes. He has a great sense of humor, and I know we
will all be laughing a lot together. May
these hallowed halls be filled, with the sounds of our laughter as well as our
tears, as we dwell together and comfort one another through the sunrises and
sunsets of our lives.
Of course, it’s funny when Carlton jokes about me shining his shoes, but
it wouldn’t be so funny if I joked about him shining my shoes. Why is that?
We all probably know why that is.
It’s tied up in the history of this country. It’s tied up in the ways we have fallen short
of the vision of being a nation founded on the brotherhood and sisterhood of
all humankind. And herein lies the
promise and the challenge of this moment.
If we are going to spend time together and really get to know each
other, we are certainly going to offend each other sometimes – not on purpose –
never on purpose – but it’s going to happen.
And the fear of offending someone, or being offended, is one of the
things that has kept goodhearted people from different walks of life from approaching
each other.
Earlier I referred to Barack Obama as black. After the service, someone’s going to come up
to me and tell me I should have called him African American, or a person of
color. Others are going to come tell me
I should have called him multi-racial.
And some of those people will say it with love in their hearts, while
others may be self-righteous, and frankly repulsive, in how they say it. We don’t have an authoritative lexicon for
doing the work of cultural understanding.
Miss Manners hasn’t published a book on how to be polite while hacking
away at the Berlin
walls that separates us. So, a person
like me can end up perplexed over whether to say white, or Caucasian, or
European American when referring to myself.
What inevitably happens is that people let their fear of offending, or
being offended, paralyze them from taking the first steps.
So here’s what I am asking you to do. Just walk across the room. In every situation where there’s a sense of
awkwardness or discomfort, it takes one courageous person to walk across the
room and hold out his or her hand and say hello. When it comes to breaking cultural barriers, it
can feel like a group of otherwise mature, successful adults have suddenly been
teleported back into a junior high school dance. Remember the boys awkwardly standing on one
side of the room with the girls on the other?
I can remember being in junior high and being terrified to walk across
the room and invite a girl to dance.
But I want you
to be the one to walk across the room and say hello. Not just once, but every week. Every chance you get. And I want you (and I’m saying this to both
churches today) to be prepared that we’re going to inadvertently offend and be
offended sometimes. And that’s okay. We need to agree that that’s okay – as long
as it’s not done on purpose. Because that’s
the kind of radical love and understanding that it’s going to take to fashion a
new creation upon this earth. The key to
success is to speak the truth in love – always having love in our hearts for
the person who is before us. Because
love will guide us.
Now I really want to challenge you this morning. So far, I have just been getting you warmed
up. I come from the Annie Dillard school,
who said we should hand out hardhats with the orders of service as people walk
into church, because good worship is dangerous.
It’s dangerous to our egos and identities. The work of the church is not for the timid.
Here’s our challenge.
Some of the things that draw many people to our church are that we don’t
proselytize, we don’t recite a creed, we don’t tell people they must believe
certain things, and we believe that reason is an important guide in matters of
faith. Because of these characteristics,
many of us love All Souls, in part because it’s different from the churches we
may have grown up with. But the
challenge for us is to not base our entire religious life on reaction.
Here’s my case and point. When many of us think about a church where
people are shouting “Hallelujah!” and raising their hands in the air, and
standing up when they are moved by the spirit of the moment, it’s easy to
associate those things with the old ways of being religious. It’s easy to think that applying reason to
religion requires denying spirit and emotion in religion – as if the two are
mutually exclusive. First, a quick show
of hands if you think reason is important in religion... good, thank you. I just wanted to see if I could get a group of
Unitarians to raise their hands in worship!
Didn’t that feel good? Hallelujah,
there’s hope!
No, seriously, I’m not at all trying to get you (or
anyone) to raise their hands or shout hallelujah in worship. If that’s where I was going with this, I would
think many of you would walk out and I would not blame you. But that’s not my point, or my challenge. I do see some relieved faces out there though. Some people were thinking, “Uh oh, Marlin’s going
Pentecostal on us.” But no, you can
relax your mind about that one. I might
have some pent-up Pentecostal in me, but it hasn’t come out yet. No, my point is not to get you to say hallelujah. It’s to see if you have room in your heart,
and in your church, for those who do.
In that vain, I want to share a story from Anne
Lamott from her book Traveling Mercies. Before Anne Lamott was a famous author, she
was living on the edge in many ways, and one of those ways was that she was
living on the edge of poverty. After
becoming pregnant, and realizing she was going to become a single mom, she
started to go to church and change her life.
In the book she describes her church, and some of its members. Even though Anne is white, the church she
joined was primarily African American.
She writes that when her son Sam was born, the old
ladies in the church used to slide up to her in the pews and secretly stuff 10 and
20 dollar bills into her pockets without her knowing. It was their way of helping her out, even
though many of these women were living off small social security checks and barely
scraping by themselves.
She talks about one woman named Mary Williams. She was in her mid-80s, “… so beautiful with
her crushed hats and hallelujahs…” she always brought Anne plastic baggies full
of dimes, closed with those little wire twists.
Anne describes her like this:
Mary Williams
always sits in the very back by the door.
She is one of those unusually beautiful women – beautiful like a river. She has dark skin, a long broad nose, sweet
full lips, and what the theologian Howard Thurman calls 'quiet eyes.’ She raised five children as a single mother,
but one of her boys drowned when he was young, and she has the softness and
generosity and toughness of someone who has endured great loss. During the service she praises God in a
nonstop burble, a glistening dark brook.
‘Oh yes... uh-huh... My Sweet Lord. Thank you. Thank you.’
Anne continues:
I watch Mary
Williams pray sometimes. She clutches
her hands together tightly and closes her eyes most of the way so that she
looks blind. Because she is so
unselfconscious, you get to see someone in a deeply interior pose. You get to see all the intimate resting. She looks as if she's holding the whole earth
together, or making the biggest wish in the world. ‘Oh yes, Lord. Uh-huh.’
Now we have to wonder, would Mary Williams feel
comfortable at All Souls? Because if this
really is a church welcoming of all souls, if it is a church dedicated to
tolerance, and it is a church open to theological and cultural diversity, if Love
really is the spirit of this church, then Mary Williams will not only be welcome,
she’ll be cherished and beloved.
If you are in a place in your own spiritual and
personal growth where you would negatively judge a person like Mary Williams,
you are beloved and cherished too. But
this is where the hardhat comes in handy.
You also need to look at why it is you would judge such a woman negatively. And then hopefully realize that the problem
is not with Mary Williams.
Now, if I were talking to Mary Williams, I might tell
her the story of a gay or a lesbian couple at church, and then challenge her if
she has a negative judgment of them. And
I’d begin by telling Mary that even though the negative judgment is what comes
to her mind, she is still beloved and cherished. And I would urge her to look at her judgment and
hopefully realize the problem is not with the couple.
This is the transforming power of Love. This is the kind of fearless courage it takes
to participate in the coming of a new creation in human history.
It took great courage for America’s founders and revolutionaries
to take on a mighty king and his armies, and create something new upon this
earth. It took immensely hard work, and
significant personal risk, to bring down the Berlin Wall. It has taken incredible effort to end legal
apartheid in this country and South
Africa and elsewhere. And it will take all of those same qualities
to end the spiritual and cultural apartheid in our world today.
The good news is, that each of these incredible steps
forward in the story of humanity were performed by regular everyday people – just
like you and me. People who had a faith
in the unfolding of freedom, and a vision of a beloved community. A community where all people feel
welcome. Where black children and white
children, and boys and girls of every shade, hue and color know they are
beloved and valued and whole. That’s
what is meant by creating the kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
We have before us the opportunity of a lifetime. I hope you’ll join us on the journey with
love in your heart. With welcome on your
lips, and a hardhat on your head.
God bless you!
I love you.
Amen.