Things have really started off with a bang for me as your interim minister. On my very first day of work I found myself sermonizing in the worship service and my wife Peggy and me being warmly welcomed. This congregation is as it was described to me: warm, active, involved, and welcoming. It is good to be here.

I will be spending my early weeks here simply trying to digest the nature of this congregation, its program of activities, and the people involved in it all. As an interim minister I have found that there is no short cut to getting to know who people are and what is most seriously on their minds.

It takes a lot of talking and a lot of listening – especially a lot of listening. And, since doing interim ministry, I have found that a year usually is not enough time for this to happen adequately. I am glad that we are to have two years to do all this and to make inroads in moving this congregation into your desired future.

So, since I am just now learning my way around this area, it would be helpful for people who would like to talk with me to contact me. Please feel invited to do so. If someone can tell me where to meet them and how to get there, it could greatly accelerate my learn- ing of how to get around these very interesting, some- what spontaneous, streets. So far I have found that I can get to most places from my home in fifteen or twenty minutes so things look pretty convenient at this point.

At this writing I have not even met with the Board to talk business so I don’t yet feel free to set up firm office hours.  However, I can give you an idea about the schedule I usually follow. My long term practice has been to go to church on Sunday, take Monday off, schedule a half day in the office on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday (with the other half available to visit and to study), work on my sermon on Friday, and on Saturday catch up on what I haven’t done.

At least that’s the plan. Sometimes, I’m still putting things together on Saturday evening because I have a basic principle of not letting schedules stop me from responding to what seems most in need of doing next.

Also, because of this principle, quite often announced office hours suffer. So, even after supposedly firm office hours are in place, if you want to see me, it’s a good idea to call me first and make sure of where I am. The church phone might be your first attempt. If that doesn’t get me, call my cell phone which I try to keep turned on during the day.

Don’t let my cell phone’s Virginia area code throw you; that was the phone company’s idea, not mine. Since I have seldom been where they thought I would be, they apparently decided Virginia was as good a place as any to keep my account.

Let me hear from you when (or if) you are of the mind. Peggy and I are looking forward to a most enjoyable time with you.

Don Vaughn-Foerster

Sing out praises for the journey, pilgrims, we, who carry on, searchers in the soul’s deep yearnings, like our forbears in their time. We seek out the spirit’s wholeness in the endless human quest.

Look inside, your soul’s the kindling of the hearth fire pilgrims knew. Find the spirit, always restless, find it in each mind and heart. Touch and hold that ancient yearning, kindling for a newfound truth.

Stand we now upon the threshold, facing futures yet unknown. Hearth behind us, wayside hostel built by those who knew wild roads. Guard we e’er their sacred embers carried in our minds and hearts.

Singing the Living Tradition, Hymn #295

I stayed last week in the “Rev. Mark Mosher-DeWolfe” room at the “Eliott and Pickett House,” a Bed and Breakfast in Boston that is owned by the Unitarian Universalist Association and used to house visiting dignitaries, or, in my case, committee members. Mark was a young, openly gay UU minister who died tragically of AIDS in 1988. He is also the author of “Sing Out Praises for the Jour- ney,” which I share above.

A brief biography of Mark hangs on the wall in the room where I stayed. The last line is particularly poignant. Speaking of his final ministry, it says he served his congregation “with love and strength.” I can’t imagine a lovelier epitaph.

Serving as your minister has taught me so much about love and strength, and I am so grateful for all I’ve learned.

When I first arrived at KUUF, I remember feeling overwhelmed and uncertain. I wasn’t sure that I had what it takes to be a minister. Now, I know I do. To all of you who propped me up, encouraged me, and believed in me over the time it took for me to find that strength and confidence, thank you.

Strength develops as we are tested. We discover our true mettle in times of strife, struggle, and failure. To all of you who challenged me, argued with me, expected much of me, and didn’t let me off the hook when I let you down, thank you.

The strength of a community doesn’t reside in a single person. Rather, it lives in networks of connection and dedication. Individuals contribute as they can, to strengthen and sustain a place, a people, a philosophy of life. To all of you who contributed to the life of the fellowship, by volunteering, offering advice or expertise, donating money, time, or supplies, or simply being present and being who you are, thank you.

I am incredibly privileged to have walked with you in times of sorrow, and to have listened to your stories of pain and loss. I have held your hand in the hospital, helped you say goodbye to those you loved, and held you when you cried. You taught me that when I let my heart break, it heals in such a way that it can hold more. To all of you who let me love you when you were hurting, thank you.

I have celebrated with you, rejoicing in your accomplishments, sharing holidays, establishing new traditions and honoring old ones. I have blessed your babies; I have made music and I have made merry alongside of you. To all of you laughed and played and worshipped with me, thank you.

To be allowed to love so many unique and amazing human beings has been a gift beyond measure. I will carry the memories of our time together always. Each of you is woven inextricably into my mind and heart. To all of you who let me be your minister, thank you.

 

To make a covenant with each other, to pledge some specific commitment of behavior and shared approach, however brief, is to take ourselves seriously as a community as a powerful and rooted religious contribution to Western thought and practice; it’s to point out that the reason that the ball whirling around at the end of the string does not go flying off into space is because of the string connected to the center, the centripetal force that makes for beloved community which is shelter and solace for our individual spiritual ways. –The Rev. Marc Belletini

Last year, this congregation went through a covenanting process.  About 60 percent of our members were involved in creating the covenant; it was a powerful and healing experience for many who participated.  We began by asking people deep, searching questions about what this community meant to them.  A task force used these responses to create a draft covenant, which then went back out for comments and revisions.  The finished product was adopted at last year’s congregational meeting.

In my opinion, KUUF’s covenant offers a rich and poetic articulation of this unique community’s identity.  In writing about it, I find I can do no better, so here is the text of the covenant:

The members of the Kitsap UU Fellowship establish this covenant in hopes that clear statements about how our values are demonstrated through our behaviors and actions will benefit our community.

We strive to care for each other and nurture a sense of belonging.  Therefore, to the best of our ability we show compassion, kindness and empathy; give support when asked or when it appears to be needed and ask for support as we are willing; respect the goodness and worth of others; and are honest in our communications, behaviors and actions.

We celebrate the fact that our members travel multiple spiritual paths.  Therefore, to the best of our ability we treat each other with non-judgmental, open minded acceptance; maintain the integrity of our relationships through genuineness, authenticity and honesty; are flexible and tolerant of change; and apply reason and love in our wide-ranging quest for knowledge.

We recognize that open and honest communication with each other is essential to the health of our community.  Therefore, to the best of our ability we focus on issues and behaviors, not on people and personalities; allow all a chance to speak; listen with open minds and hearts; and seek to resolve conflicts in private through collaboration, compromise, forgiveness, and fellowship.

We show our commitment to our Fellowship and Unitarian Universalism by our generous support and by working together for the greater good.  Therefore, to the best of our ability we engage in service within the Fellowship, the community and the wider world according to our interests and abilities; contribute time, talent, money and energy as we are able; cultivate in this community and in ourselves a sense of celebration, joy, grace and humor, and sustain a spirit of wisdom, humility and gratitude.

When we speak and act out of an awareness of this deep commitment to one another, and to the greater good, fewer mistakes are made, and forgiveness comes easier.  During this time of transition, if each member of the community can live these words, you will find they serve you well.  The center will hold-- so long as all of you remember to hold the covenant close.

Blessings, Liz

Above the mountains the geese turn into the light again

Painting their black silhouettes on an open sky.

Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the heavens

so you can find the one line already written inside you.

Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that

small, bright and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart.

Sometimes with the bones of the black sticks left when the fire has gone out

someone has written something new in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving you are arriving. ~ David Whyte ~

My resignation last month marked the beginning of a transition time, for me personally, and for KUUF. Change is a part of life, and is external. Transition is the internal psychological process that takes place as we come to terms with change. Transition times are full of potential and power. We reap the benefits of transition when we honor them fully and mark them in ways that are meaningful.

William Bridge’s work on transitions breaks them into three stages, rather than just two. In addition to the ending and the new beginning, we move in and out of a chaotic and transformative space called the ‘neutral zone.’ When we are in the neutral zone, old patterns are no longer applicable, and new patterns haven’t yet coalesced. It can be disconcerting to be in flux this way. However, it can also be liberating and energizing.

In the chaos of the neutral zone, we have no choice but to zero in on our own ‘true north,’ to focus on the things which are most important to us. The neutral zone is spacious, offering us freedom. We can try new things on for size without having to commit. There are no limits to our imagination or ruts or routines to cage us. Anything is possible when nothing is settled.

After I leave in June, I will have to answer the question, “Who am I if I’m not the minister?” Who will I be in this new incarnation? I could focus on what I might do—schooling, chaplaincy, consulting, writing—but a more fruitful line of thought is to clarify for myself who I am. What are my greatest strengths? What are my greatest challenges? As I continue in ministry, how can I bless the world most fully?

For the congregation, there are also questions which can bear much fruit. What is the mission that carries and unites this congregation? What are the greatest needs going forward? How can the congregation support the interim minister in his or her work? How can the interim support best support the congregation?

Life throws change at us continually; wisdom requires that we learn to live in and love the neutral zone. The key is to relax and be flexible. Dance, play, laugh, and trust that things will work themselves out in time.

...a mind is much predicament as such a place. And yet a knowledge is here that tenses the throat as for song: the inheritance of the ones, alive or once alive, who stand behind the ones I have imagined, who took into their minds the troubles of this place, the blights of love and race, but saw a good fate here and willingly paid its cost, kept it the best they could, thought of its good, and mourned the good they lost. - Wendell Berry

It’s an accomplishment that lives in the memory of our denomination, an accomplishment that still has the power to strike awe into the hearts of members of other UU congregations: twenty-five years ago, when KUUF was a small fellowship with fewer than 80 pledging units, the members made the decision to build a new building and call a full-time minister all in the same year.

People dug deep. They didn’t give money to other charities. They spent long hours hand-dipping shingles. They sweated and skimped and sacrificed and then they celebrated—they had done what many had considered impossible. They transformed themselves from a tiny fellowship, meeting in a decaying building, tucked away in the woods where no one could find them, into a “full service church.”

Where did they find the chutzpah, passion, and strength to do what needed to be done? Perhaps there was something in the air or the water that instilled courage and a sense of purpose in people. Or perhaps they simply believed that what they were doing was so important that they couldn’t let any challenges stand in their way.

As the poet Wendell Berry puts it, they looked at the world, and “took into their minds the troubles of this place the blights of love and race.” In other words, they read the newspaper or watched the television, and noticed how much violence, injustice, and pain there is in the world. Perhaps they looked around them, or looked within, and saw loneliness and a deep need for fellowship. Their response was to turn their face to the future and resolutely build a “good fate,” for themselves, and for those of us who are here today.

They certainly had challenges! I know for a fact that the people who were here in 1985 had disagreements and differences of opinion. Some of them got tired, and even burnt out. They had good days and bad days, suffered losses and carried personal burdens. They were (and are) as human as the rest of us.

Yet as we look back, their challenges aren’t what lasted. What did? Their legacy includes our beautiful building and, indeed, our entire religious community. Both are a testament to their generosity, of pocket and of spirit. We owe them so much.

What they did is now ours to do, and it is no less important today than it was twenty-five years ago. In fact, I believe it is even more important. In the midst of the so-called “culture war,” religion is a potent weapon for people who believe that their way to be human is the only right way.

Twenty-five years later, we still take the troubles of the world into our mind. Twenty-five years later, we still imagine a world where all people are understood to have inherent worth and dignity. Twenty-five years later, we still keep this dream alive the best we can.

Our Mission as the Kitsap Unitarian Universalist Fellowship is to build a liberal religious community of love and justice, enriched by diversity, that nurtures spirituality and inspires us to act on our beliefs.

So...first of all, I’d like everyone to make sure to thank Ginger for all she has done. And secondly, I’d like to ask everyone to reflect a bit on the gifts you bring to our shared worship services.

When we gather on Sunday, we come bearing gifts. Some people bring the gift of song; our choir, special musicians, and of course, our faithful accompanist spring to mind immediately, but everyone who sings along with the hymns offers a gift to the broader community. When we sing together, we are singing to one another.

Other people bring the gift of their experience. Lay leaders, and of course whoever offers the sermon, offer what Theodore Parker calls true preaching: “life passed through the fire of thought.” Everyone who lights a candle of joy or concern offers this gift, as well.

Then there is the gift of service. Ushers welcome people at the door and hand out programs, pass the plate, and count the money. It’s not a hard job, but it’s certainly a necessary one. Other people serve as “sanctuary elves,” making sure the candles are lit and the speaker has water. On average, about twelve people volunteer in some way on Sunday morning. These are the ‘holes’ that Ginger has been recruiting people to fill.

Perhaps the most important gift, however, is our presence. Can you imagine lighting a candle of concern and looking out on an empty room? It does not have the same impact at all.

I know that many people look at the newsletter or the website at the subject of the worship service and make a decision on whether or not to attend that day. I wish that were not the case. I don’t think people come on Sunday mornings just to hear me (or whoever happens to be leading worship that day). I believe people come to be there for one another.

The more generous we are with our various gifts, the richer and more rewarding our Sunday worship services will be. Rather than waiting to be asked to contribute by ‘the lady with the clipboard’ or somebody else, are you willing to offer your gifts freely?

Here are some practical ways to help:

Being there for one another, sharing our gifts, sharing our lives, this is what worship is for. If the community matters to you, I encourage you to step forward, and share your gifts with wild abandon.

Blessings, Liz

I found the training invaluable. As they taught us the skills necessary for trauma response ministry, I kept remembering times when I’ve gone to the hospital following an unexpected death or an accident. It quickly became clear that even if I am never called upon to respond to a major disaster, I will be better at supporting indi- viduals who are facing trauma in their lives as a result of going through this training.

I learned that there are fundamental differences between “regular” pastoral care and counseling and trauma response. In “regular” situations, we try to invite people to get in touch with their feelings. In a crisis, the responder’s goal is to help a person stabilize by backing AWAY from feelings and regaining cognitive control of one’s actions and reactions.

Traumatic events trigger chemical reactions, flooding the body with stress hormones. This makes us feel like we are going crazy. In fact, the ‘normal’ reaction to ‘abnormal’ events is ‘abnormal’ behavior, thoughts, and feelings. The healing process can’t begin until people accept that, and intentionally decide on concrete steps to take in order to return to homeostasis. The thinking brain has to gently pry the reins out of the hands of the feeling brain for a while in order to get the wagon back onto the track.

In the past, this community has supported and encouraged me when I have felt called to a wider ministry, such as serving on the board of the Bremerton FoodLine or working with the district’s youth. The difference with this work is that once I am a part of the team, I can be deployed to the site of a disaster or trauma. This means I might be leaving Bremerton and KUUF for as much as two weeks. You would be without your minister for this time.

Knowing that you look out for each other exceptionally well, I feel comfortable letting go of my pastoral responsibilities at KUUF. The Lay Pastoral Ministry Team will be available and empowered to reach out to people around the crisis I would be responding to. The Trauma Response Team helps find pulpit coverage; I would be excused and fly back were there to be a death or other unrelated crisis at KUUF. Still, I am asking for your support and encouragement before I commit to doing this work.

If you’d like to speak to me about this, please do so. You can also respond (to this and other ‘Musing’ columns) via the blog on KUUF’s new website. Or you could speak with any of the members of the Committee on Ministry—Florrie Brassier, Eugene Brennan, Marilyn Drengson, Lisa Johnson, Neil Makar or John Younie—or members of the Board of Trustees.

I would hope that it would feel good to know that you, as a community, are ‘loaning’ your minister to people who are in great need. Like bringing casseroles to a family that has lost a loved one, it is something concrete to DO as a part of a compassionate response to tragedy. In fact, I would love for you to see my deployment as a part of the congregation’s ministry of extending “sympathy and compassion to those who are hurting in our wider world.”

Thank you!

Blessings,

Liz

Imagine, if you will, 160 youth and 40 adults at a camp in the middle of nowhere, the leaves on the trees glowing golden, the ground wet and glistening with rain, the spirit of radically inclusive Unitarian Universalist community permeating it all. The youth have a thing or two to teach us about building community. What they are able to achieve in two short days is nothing short of miraculous. In the closing circle, youth who had come to Con feeling isolated and resentful were transformed, eagerly proclaiming, “This weekend has been incredible!” and “I love you all so much!” But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The weekend began with orientations. Adult sponsors gathered in the library, and the Youth Empowerment Services (YES) team explained our role. Each of us were assigned a youth mentor who we could check in with at any time over the week if we had any questions or issues.

Next, the “Spirit Corps” gathered. They needed a much larger space, because by my estimate, about two thirds of the youth wanted in. In days gone past, a “Spirit Committee” made up of youth and adults would patrol the campus, throwing candy at anyone who was out of line—the rules are clear: no drugs, alcohol, or violence, and no sexual contact between the neck and the knees. However, these days a culture shift is underway, and more youth are taking responsibility for cultivating an accepting, respectful, safe environment.

In addition to the Con rules and the site rules—don’t go in the woods...there are bear and cougar—the deans of Con (our own McKay Campbell and Marina Phillips from Cedars) explained the purpose and function of Spirit Corps. Ably supported by a cast of district youth leaders, they told us about “The Robbie Rule,” which invites us to make sure that there is always space for one more person in any con- versational circle, and “The One Hour Rule,” which limits the amount of time a person spends with any one person, in order to make sure that you meet more people.

The general orientation hardly had any new arrivals, so enthusiastic was the response to the invitation to be a part of the Spirit Corps. Before we knew it, it was time for the first of three worship services, all led by KUUF’s Caitlin Budd.

It was simply magical to see these youth, their faces lit only by candlelight, singing and worshipping together.

By now it was about 3 o’clock, so most of the sponsors headed to sleep, while the youth stayed up talking, drumming, and making hemp bracelets...and hugging. There is lots of hugging at Con. Though clearly some people were greeting others as old and dear friends, it was inspiring to see the way ‘con virgins,’ people new to Con, were welcomed intentionally and shepherded through their experience by other youth.

“Touch Groups” allowed for a deeper connection to a small group of people. Workshops were fun but had real content, and the theme presentation invited the youth into conversations about theological topics that adults sometimes shy away from. Not the youth. Most dived in, and I was amazed by the diversity of beliefs and experiences they shared.

One of my favorite experiences was the “Talent/No-Talent Show.” Most of the youth that performed were astoundingly talented. A few were...not. Regardless, the response was unguarded enthusiasm. From the young woman who stuck a straw through her tongue (eww!) to the young man who dressed in drag and lip synched “Dancing Queen” to the many multitalented musicians, dancers and comedians, everyone was applauded, drowned in hoots and hollers, and loved and appreciated unconditionally.

It used to be that people viewed Con as a time to let loose. Away from the parents, with minimal supervision, who would be surprised if the youth went a little wild? Some churches stopped sponsoring their youth, keeping them at home. My own experience as a UU youth at district events was decidedly mixed.

However, I can say with absolute certainty that Cons now are light years away from my experience back in the stone ages. The youth create something amazing, inspiring, and almost utopian: a place where everyone is not just accepted, but celebrated, just as they are. I’ve never seen a truer or fuller expression of our UU values.

Blessings, Liz

Replica of the Goddess of Democracy statue at Freedom Park in Arlington, Virginia. Photo taken by Ben SchuminCivil discourse requires that we truly listen to one another with open minds, that is, with a willingness to adjust our own opinion. When we enter a room with the intent to argue and defend our position, civil discourse is difficult. When we enter a room with sincere curiosity, with a desire to understand and learn from people who have different points of view, then we can actually get somewhere.

Civil discourse also requires that we stay calm and avoid becoming reactive, outraged, angry or upset. Righteous indignation gets in the way of civil discourse. Ironically, it is when we refuse to acknowledge and address our feelings that they are the most likely to color our interactions with one another. Name them, and they lose their power to make us act irrationally.

Sometimes I think the problems we have to face are so big and daunting that we keep going back to partisan politics in order to avoid facing them. Revamping the health care system is a huge, complicated problem, requiring compromise and sacrifice and a lot of negotiation. It’s EASIER to call President Obama names or make up stories about ‘Death Committees’. It’s EASIER to focus on feelings of outrage about the legislator who called President Obama a liar or to rant and rave about ex-Governor Palin. It’s harder to discern and articulate a way to move forward together.

Nobel Prize winner Amartya Sen feels that most conflict grows out of identifying too strongly with a single aspect of our identity. Each of us has several overlapping identities. We have a family identity, a national identity, a religious identity, a racial identity and more. When one part of our identity becomes more important to us than any other, we feel threatened by people who don’t share that particular identity.

This analysis offers one strategy for finding common ground. Rather than focusing on differences, when we meet one another, we can seek to find a similarity, an identity we share, a connection point, and start from there. When there is a relationship, then differences don’t feel as threatening.

Human beings are incredibly complex. As UU’s, we believe that all people have inherent worth and dignity, not just in spite of but because of their unique combination of identifying factors: color, creed, kind, political party, and more. When we take the time to get to know people, to listen to their story, we discover that every person is much more than a list of identifying terms. Most importantly, we find places of connection. We find common ground.

I would argue that everyone can find a connection with everyone else. If it proves to be difficult, you might consider prevaricating. One of my favorite stories from the past few years involves a KUUF member and ardent democrat who told a little white lie to anyone she met with a Bush/Cheney bumper sticker. “I voted for them too, and I’m not that happy with how things are going. How are you feeling about it?” Presto: common ground.

I don’t know how to solve the national health crisis. I don’t know how to deal with global warming. I don’t know how to end poverty or prevent terrorism or bring this country out of the recession. But I DO know that if we’re going to find solutions to these big, complex problems, we have to be able to work together. We have to be willing to cross those lines of identity, and to recognize that we are all in this together.

As caring, intelligent human beings, we are capable of building relationships, capable of finding common ground. When we find it, when people with two opposing view points come to some agreement, it feels almost magical. Common ground is holy ground. May we seek it together.

Blessings, Liz