I want to tell you a story of a congregation located downtown where all the churches are (probably on Church Street, because that’s a thing), with many passersby on a Sunday morning.
One member (let’s call him Tom) took it upon himself to be the outside greeter, stationing himself on the steps leading to the main entrance, welcoming people and holding the door open. It was a friendly way to welcome – to actually have someone outside greeting and welcoming; I often talk in workshops about how ‘worship starts at the entrance’ and that first impressions matter to visitors.
That being said, those inside the congregation noticed that despite their great location, their welcoming pride flag and Black Lives Matter banner, their inviting message on the wayside pulpit, their open doors, and Tom on the steps…
…there were few visitors, and most of those were older white folk.
A great deal of time and consideration was given to this problem, with some wondering if their declaring their values so visibly was off putting, or if they should change the time of the service, or if they needed more people outside explaining Unitarian Universalism.
One person (let’s call her Sue) thought that idea was good – maybe Tom was too busy to engage folks. So she decided to go out onto the steps with Tom and see what she could do.
Sue decided to watch first, from a vantage point a few yards away, to see what Tom faced on a Sunday morning.
What she saw appalled her.
What she saw was Tom welcoming some new people… people who were white, decently dressed, skewed middle aged or older.
What she also saw was Tom suggesting to other new people… people who were not white, or less well dressed, or young, or with kids in tow… that they might be happier with the church down the street.
Tom wanted likeminded people, just like him, to join him in the haven of this congregation.
He turned their congregation into a bunker.
Despite all the signs outside suggesting the place was a beacon of hope, welcome, equity, and compassion, Tom turned the congregation into a bunker, filled with likeminded people. People just like him, who maybe left more conservative forms of religion and now wanted someplace where they could be with others who were as liberal as they, as allergic to religious language as they, as comfortable in their middle-class smugness as they. A place with people who did a pretty good job of affirming their ethics but not very good at promoting them.
Now this is an extreme story – or is it? I know at least one congregation that had a Tom stationed outside, and I have also watched a member of a different congregation take it upon herself to push out folks she didn’t think belonged in their club bunker.
I do get the relief of finding Unitarian Universalism. It is a beacon of hope in a dark world. It saves us – it certainly saved me from depression, isolation, and an unsettling spiritual crisis. It is a place where many can find connection and comfort.
But it was never meant to stop at comfort. As Christian theologian Karl Barth said, a church’s purpose is to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”
It’s a hard look in the mirror when you realize you’re one of the comfortable that needs some afflicting.
You’re challenged by religious language? Cool – now you have an opportunity to examine and heal those painful wounds that make words like ‘god’ and ‘prayer’ so difficult.
You’re struggling with seeing openly queer or transfolk? Awesome – now you get to examine and let go of those prejudices you didn’t even realize you had.
Annoyed that we spend so much time talking about the culture of white supremacy? Fantastic – you are right at the point of interrogating the culture we live in and seeing the ways that we can make real the dream of Beloved Community.
Challenged by people who you may not consider ‘likeminded’ but are still finding their home in Unitarian Universalism? Sweet! This means you’re ready to hear other opinions and wrestle with your own.
Frustrated by how big the congregation’s getting and the fact that you don’t know everyone (and everyone’s business) anymore? Stellar! It can be hard to see the congregation you think of as ‘family’ get unwieldy, but it’s a good thing, and consider how strong you are getting, and how much more positive, life-affirming influence you can have in your community, when your numbers start growing.
Anxious about evangelizing about Unitarian Universalism? Worried that if we use that word and those tactics we’ll be seen as the people who coopted that word for their strict conservative fundamentalism? Marvelous news – now find ways to spread OUR good news – the good word of justice, compassion, pluralism, and connection.
And not just the old ways that don’t actually reach people anymore – tiny ads in local papers and signs on your lawn just won’t cut it. Those aren’t beacons; those are a flicker from a match.
It’s time to be bold.
One of our publishing houses is called Beacon Press – and it is where many of our favorite thinkers and writers come to be published. To be heard. Authors like Cornel West, Danya Ruttenberg, Robin DiAngelo, Eboo Patel, Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz. Do you think they come to us because we are quietly hiding in our bunker? No. They want a beacon. Something our faith used to be known for – and can be again.
We can’t stay in the bunker. The bunker is a position of defeat and surrender. There is far too much at stake in our communities, our nation, and our world to give up now.
We must be a beacon. We must look like and act like the world we want to live in.
Shout our good news from the rooftops. Be welcoming and mean it. Throw open the doors (physical and virtual).
The world needs us to shine our light brightly.