All In

Unitarian Universalist Church of Delaware County - Sermons

About ten years ago I took up the sport of paragliding. In paragliding you strap yourself into a harness that’s attached to a large fabric wing that enables you to glide and soar through the air like a bird. It’s the closest thing to what I call “pure flying.” There’s no bulky, noisy engine to propel you. It’s just you and the wind. When I started paragliding we worked on a flat field and learned how to handle the wing in the breeze, how to get it stable over our heads. Once we were reasonably good at that, we worked our way up a small hill and ran down it. I’ll never forget the feeling of my feet first leaving the ground. As I got better and better, I moved up the practice hill for longer, higher glides back to earth. Within a few weeks the big day came. Terry, my instructor said I was ready, so with a couple other students we piled into the back of a pickup truck and drove to the top of Blue Mountain, a ski resort in the Poconos. Terry set us up at the top of an expert run that dropped off precipitously. As we waited for the wind to blow just right, I looked down the slope and out into the valley below. My heart was in my throat and, I’ll admit it: I was scared. Terry gave us one last reminder before pushing his baby birds out of the nest: “Remember, you’ve got to go for it. You’ve got to commit. When I give the signal, you’ve got to run like hell. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” I watched as one, then another of my fellow students took to the air, and then it was my turn. I got the wing up in the air above me as I’d been trained. I turned to face the wind, and when Terry gave the signal I ran as fast as I could toward the edge of a steep drop-off, hoping and praying that I’d get airborne before I went over it.

“You’ve got to commit. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” My instructor’s words have stuck with me to this day, even though I packed up my paraglider for the last time a few years ago and have been earthbound ever since. How many times in our lives do we find ourselves standing at the top of a mountain, where we have to decide whether to stay safely where we are or to take a chance and try to soar? To commit ourselves to something scary or unknown? Where we face these critical choices, these moments of truth? And how many times do we later wonder what might have been? What might have been had we taken the bold step? What might have been had we not been afraid? Had we had enough courage? Had we ignored the naysayers and trusted our gut? Had we gone “all in” instead of holding back?

The only way to avoid the wondering of the “what if” is to make a full, unrestrained commitment to a course of action, whatever challenge it is that we’re facing. It’s like standing on the edge of a swimming pool when we know the water’s cold. Dipping our toes isn’t going to get us into the water; we’ve got to jump in with both feet, or even head first. The lesson I learned from paragliding is that, to gain the glorious freedom of the flight you’ve got to overcome the fear of failure. It’s about going “all in” every time.

As you know, our Soul Matters theme for this month is “commitment,” and we here at UUCDC are in the middle of our Annual Fund Drive, so I’ve been thinking about what our faith demands of us. What kind of commitments we’re asked to make as members of our congregations, as members of this faith? While belonging to a congregation and living our lives as Unitarian Universalists isn’t likely to be as physically risky as paragliding, I’d like to believe that the same lesson applies. If we’re going to fly, we’ve got to commit. We’ve got to go “all in.”

When I think of going “all in” for our faith, I think about the sixteenth century Unitarian Michael Servetus. Talk about committed. Imagine living in 16^th Century Europe, where the Church of Rome is burning heretics at the stake all over the Continent. Where Martin Luther and John Calvin are protesting the abuses of the Catholic Church and starting a powerful new religious movement of their own that is becoming equally violent in the enforcement of its doctrine. And imagine telling both the Pope and Calvin that they are wrong. Telling them in a very public way that their doctrines are unsupported by Scripture. That Jesus was a man and not God incarnate, that there is no such thing as the Holy Trinity, and that God lives in each of us.

As you might suspect, this “good news” of Unitarianism that Michael Servetus declared did not go over well. He was first jailed by the Inquisition for heresy against the Catholic Church, but he escaped before they could kill him. Then a few years later he was arrested by the Calvinists for heresy against the Protestants, and he wasn’t so lucky the second time around. John Calvin had Michael Servetus burned at the stake along with all the known copies of his books. Michael Servetus went “all in” for his faith, that’s for sure.

Here in the relative comfort of the 21st Century, we don’t think that declaring the principles of universal love and acceptance is such a dangerous thing. We don’t feel physically threatened by proclaiming the truth of our Eight Principles and we don’t have to worship in hiding. It’s not particularly dangerous to be a UU here in America these days, at least not in most places. So it doesn’t feel like we need to bet our lives on our faith, does it? I suppose I would hope that our commitment to Unitarian Universalism – to stand up for justice, to proclaim our gospel of hope, to side with love – runs that deep. But here’s the question that I once heard asked, that has stuck with me: “If you were arrested on charges of being a Unitarian Universalist, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” On most days, thankfully, none of us faces that kind of test. But as we consider our commitment to our congregations and to our faith, we’re called to make an honest accounting, to look in the mirror and truthfully answer that question.

I once had an email exchange with a member who had once been active but recently drifted away. I told them I missed them and asked why I hadn’t seen them recently. Here’s what they told me, and I quote: “I think my husband and I are both in desperate need of a place where we can have quiet and reflection with no strings attached and we just aren’t finding that at UUCDC anymore.” A place where we can have quiet and reflection with no strings attached.

Our faith, and membership in this or any other UU church, comes with strings. To be a Unitarian Universalist is to say “yes” to those strings. We say “yes” to life. We say “yes” to hope. We say “yes” to a belief that all people are worthy, all people carry a spark of the divine. And more than that, we say “yes” not just to these principles, but we say “yes” to doing the work of our faith, the work of this church, when we’re asked. We can be that “place of quiet and reflection” my correspondent longs for only if, only when, we all commit ourselves to creating that place, sustaining that place, loving that place, and birthing that place into being.

I am often asked by newcomers what is expected of our members, and this is what I tell them. I tell them that to be a member of this church and to claim this faith as one’s own, you must do four things. First, you must commit to showing up on Sunday mornings. Worship is the central, communal act of the church, and members should participate in worship on a regular basis. Second, you must commit to actively engaging in your own spiritual growth. Take an Adult Faith Development class. Join a Soul Matters group. Sit in meditation. Our Fourth Principle, which I see as the keystone holding the arch of Unitarian Universalism together, says that we engage in the free and responsible search for truth and meaning. Unitarian Universalism expects, even demands that we actively engage in that search however we might.

The third thing that’s required is that we support the church financially, to the best of our ability. Generosity is an important spiritual practice, but it’s not just a spiritual practice. It is a practical necessity. We cannot keep the lights on and the doors open, we cannot offer self-sustaining programs without everyone’s financial contribution. Offer your pledge. Put money in the offering plate or, these days, text it to us. Buy something at the auction. Your commitment to our faith must take tangible form in your giving, as best you’re able.

Finally, the last string that’s attached to belonging to a UU congregation, or maybe it’s the first string, is that we get involved. That we embody our commitment by showing up for others. Going “all in” for our faith means that we bring our creative energy to our community and its mission to “serve others with a joyful heart.” As I’ve said before, ours is not a Sunday morning faith. It’s a faith that must be lived out every day in our workplace, in our family, with our friends, and, most of all, by offering our talents to our community, all for the greater good.

These four things – attending worship, growing spiritually, supporting financially, and serving others – are the only things we ask, and they are everything. This is what Parker Palmer was talking about when he referred to being and becoming a part of “the community of our lives.”[1] This is what I mean when I speak of making a commitment and going “all in” with our faith and our congregation.

It is all well and good to have the faith of our convictions. But let us do those things that, were we arrested, would convict us of our faith. Let us all, together, face the wind, fully commit, run like hell and never stop. Let us choose to go “all in” for our faith so that, together, we may take to the air and soar.

This day, and every day, I wish you peace. Amen.

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[1] Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak, p. 16.