I "attended" an online workshop called "Ten Bright Ideas for Getting Your Church Ready for Fall," sponsored by three UUA districts: Central Midwest, Prairie Star and Heartland. Great workshop! The idea I loved the most was the first one: Greeting As Ministry:
Have greeters who see their work as a ministry, not a chore. Ideally, a greeter knows many members by name, is very warm and personable and greets everyone, not just adults. The most crucial time to be friendly is right after the service ends, so have greeters and others continue to greet after the service. Have a Welcoming Team that includes some phantom greeters: members who volunteer to assist with greeting both before and after the service, but are not the "official" greeters.
Great tips, no? For some of us, greeting is fulfilling and fun. I'm an extravert (surprise) and get quite a charge from being that friendly, smiling person who can greet members by name and welcome visitors. The more difficult piece is engaging first-time visitors after the service. I have an easier time when I ask how they felt/what they thought of the worship service and perhaps find out their church background and what they're looking for in a faith community.
I'm a huge fan of the phantom greeter idea, because having a specific role to play can make us more effective: designated phantom greeters will notice new people before and during the service so that they're ready to seek them out afterwards. Maybe a good idea for large congregations would be to have a phantom greeter in each section of the sanctuary? Ideally, this would be in addition to the official section greeter. My hUUge congregation doesn't have those, but some congregations do.
Do any UU congregations give welcome bags with gifts to visitors? Some relatives of ours recently brought home a welcome bag from their visit to a large Episcopal congregation. The bag contained a blessing, several informational flyers and a jar of preserves bought at our farmer's market. Wow! This church has an enormous building with a Cathedral-like sanctuary that was about half-full, my relatives said. I went to a Unity church once that had a tradition of giving first-time visitors flowers. That was wonderful, except that after the service no one spoke to me or my flower!
Autumnal greetings,
Elizabeth
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Joys and Sorrows: Controversial!!
The topic of Joys and Sorrows came up on the UU Leaders listserv. It seems that congregational experts view J&S as small church behavior that we have got to eradicate if we want growth. Several years back, Stefan Jonasson came to FUS of Madison and announced that we were the largest UU congregation on this continent still doing Joys & Sorrows. It is funny to think of my congregation as this renegade, but we have not had the problems with J&S that other congregations report. In fact, we love it.
It works for us because we have trained lay ministers at the services to respond to folks and offer support after worship in addition to our regular members and (sometimes) ministers. It's crucial that people feel listened to, as we all know. It's even better when people are asked, "What can we do to help you?"
Of course, we also do J&S in such a way as to strongly discourage any acting out. We have many subtle boundaries that keep it contained. We have J&S only once a month, now the fourth Sunday of each month, near the end of the worship service when people are already looking at their watches. A worship leader introduces the time as "a few minutes," "not for announcements or political statements," etc. We have a small bowl of sand and about twelve candles -- that's it!
Everyone who attends knows that we're a HUUGE congregation and knows that we have to keep it short. Folks are careful not to go up too often, because none of us wants to be known as someone who "always" has a J or S. If someone does speak for too long or make an announcement, s/he gets a gentle reminder. Also, many people are not comfortable speaking into a microphone in front of hundreds of people. All these factors mean that people only go up for really big milestones and that we do not have too many J&S -- or at least that's the way it has been in the fifteen years I've been attending.
I've been reading that J&S isn't good in a large congregation because of the intimidation factor. Certainly, all the above factors probably do intimidate some folks who would never go up themselves, but people who don't participate sometimes seek out those who did after the service to say, "I'm going through that, too." And of course, the worship leader always lights one last candle "for all those joys and sorrows that are unspoken, but remain in our hearts and minds." One of our former ministers referred to J&S as "the real stuff of religion." Rev. Darrel calls it the central sacrament of the beloved community.
The truth is that people do feel connected during our monthly ritual, despite our numbers. Most of us choose one of our three services and attend that one and eventually see (at least) a handful of familiar faces every week, so we are not a group of complete strangers for long. First-time visitors sometimes share something, so I know that we're not totally scary to new folks!
Perhaps another reason our way works for us is that the two other Madison UU congregations have J&S also, but every week. So, it seems like a normal thing to do. At James Reeb UU Congregation, we have a long, narrow trough on legs that easily fits twenty candles. (I need to find out the proper name for that thing -- "trough on legs" does not sound quite right!) At Prairie UU Society, they don't use candles, but speak from their seats after being called upon.
For me, J&S is a very meaningful ritual. It was so important to me to announce my engagement during J&S, light a candle of hope (when trying IVF), light one for my brother's brain injury, my sister's illness, my father's lung cancer and death, Sam's heart attack and my fabulous new job. I'm very careful not to go up too often (and my memory is still working well enough that I know when I've been up and whether or not I spoke).
Way back in 1996, I first shared a joy at FUS, about finally being ready -- three years after my cat died -- to get a new kitten. I was finally over the guilt of having my elderly cat (with a thyroid tumor) put to sleep. You know, some folks snickered at me. Yes, I got laughed at by a few men in our congregation. But, after the service a couple tracked me down during coffee to ask about my cat and tell me about the death of their sixteen-year-old feline.
At James Reeb,where I work, I don't feel a need to light a candle. There, my participation is as the administrator, so I'm noting what is happening for people and praying for them or celebrating with them the whole time, rather than thinking of myself. It feels freeing and reminds me that J&S is not really about us as individuals -- it is a way to sense the connections, the God in between us all as we celebrate and mourn together.
Blessed Be and Amen,
Elizabeth
It works for us because we have trained lay ministers at the services to respond to folks and offer support after worship in addition to our regular members and (sometimes) ministers. It's crucial that people feel listened to, as we all know. It's even better when people are asked, "What can we do to help you?"
Of course, we also do J&S in such a way as to strongly discourage any acting out. We have many subtle boundaries that keep it contained. We have J&S only once a month, now the fourth Sunday of each month, near the end of the worship service when people are already looking at their watches. A worship leader introduces the time as "a few minutes," "not for announcements or political statements," etc. We have a small bowl of sand and about twelve candles -- that's it!
Everyone who attends knows that we're a HUUGE congregation and knows that we have to keep it short. Folks are careful not to go up too often, because none of us wants to be known as someone who "always" has a J or S. If someone does speak for too long or make an announcement, s/he gets a gentle reminder. Also, many people are not comfortable speaking into a microphone in front of hundreds of people. All these factors mean that people only go up for really big milestones and that we do not have too many J&S -- or at least that's the way it has been in the fifteen years I've been attending.
I've been reading that J&S isn't good in a large congregation because of the intimidation factor. Certainly, all the above factors probably do intimidate some folks who would never go up themselves, but people who don't participate sometimes seek out those who did after the service to say, "I'm going through that, too." And of course, the worship leader always lights one last candle "for all those joys and sorrows that are unspoken, but remain in our hearts and minds." One of our former ministers referred to J&S as "the real stuff of religion." Rev. Darrel calls it the central sacrament of the beloved community.
The truth is that people do feel connected during our monthly ritual, despite our numbers. Most of us choose one of our three services and attend that one and eventually see (at least) a handful of familiar faces every week, so we are not a group of complete strangers for long. First-time visitors sometimes share something, so I know that we're not totally scary to new folks!
Perhaps another reason our way works for us is that the two other Madison UU congregations have J&S also, but every week. So, it seems like a normal thing to do. At James Reeb UU Congregation, we have a long, narrow trough on legs that easily fits twenty candles. (I need to find out the proper name for that thing -- "trough on legs" does not sound quite right!) At Prairie UU Society, they don't use candles, but speak from their seats after being called upon.
For me, J&S is a very meaningful ritual. It was so important to me to announce my engagement during J&S, light a candle of hope (when trying IVF), light one for my brother's brain injury, my sister's illness, my father's lung cancer and death, Sam's heart attack and my fabulous new job. I'm very careful not to go up too often (and my memory is still working well enough that I know when I've been up and whether or not I spoke).
Way back in 1996, I first shared a joy at FUS, about finally being ready -- three years after my cat died -- to get a new kitten. I was finally over the guilt of having my elderly cat (with a thyroid tumor) put to sleep. You know, some folks snickered at me. Yes, I got laughed at by a few men in our congregation. But, after the service a couple tracked me down during coffee to ask about my cat and tell me about the death of their sixteen-year-old feline.
At James Reeb,where I work, I don't feel a need to light a candle. There, my participation is as the administrator, so I'm noting what is happening for people and praying for them or celebrating with them the whole time, rather than thinking of myself. It feels freeing and reminds me that J&S is not really about us as individuals -- it is a way to sense the connections, the God in between us all as we celebrate and mourn together.
Blessed Be and Amen,
Elizabeth
Monday, July 28, 2008
Candlelight Vigils in Support
Like many Unitarian Universalists, I went to a candlelight vigil at a local UU congregation this evening to express my sympathy, grief and empathy for the people of the Tennessee Valley UU Church (and some compassion for the shooter).
Safety was a theme at the vigil, how before, we viewed our sanctuary as the safest place, the place where we would be accepted, the place where we could relax. I mean, really relax -- enough to pray, to meditate, to cry, to be vulnerable, knowing the peace of being held by the interdependent web of existence.
Now the web seems to be unravelling. The tragedy occurred in just a few minutes, but now life is forever altered for those grieving and struggling to understand why and how. What about the children who witnessed this violence? How will they make sense of it?
I have so many questions, including: how will this change the way Unitarian Universalists act in the world? As UUs, we're admonished that it is not enough to show up for worship services -- no, we're supposed to be out walking the talk, letting others know where we stand, speaking up for equality and justice. Will we keep doing that, especially those UUs who live in conservative places? Once I heard Rosemany Bray McNatt speak about activism and how some people can be on the front lines, but others cannot. She gave the example of a woman responsible for raising children as someone who cannot afford to be involved in activism that could become threatening.
Except now we know that yesterday morning in Knoxville, being present for a UU service (a children's play, for God's sake) meant being in a life or death situation.
May our faith guide us toward healing as we pray for our fellow UUs,
Elizabeth
Safety was a theme at the vigil, how before, we viewed our sanctuary as the safest place, the place where we would be accepted, the place where we could relax. I mean, really relax -- enough to pray, to meditate, to cry, to be vulnerable, knowing the peace of being held by the interdependent web of existence.
Now the web seems to be unravelling. The tragedy occurred in just a few minutes, but now life is forever altered for those grieving and struggling to understand why and how. What about the children who witnessed this violence? How will they make sense of it?
I have so many questions, including: how will this change the way Unitarian Universalists act in the world? As UUs, we're admonished that it is not enough to show up for worship services -- no, we're supposed to be out walking the talk, letting others know where we stand, speaking up for equality and justice. Will we keep doing that, especially those UUs who live in conservative places? Once I heard Rosemany Bray McNatt speak about activism and how some people can be on the front lines, but others cannot. She gave the example of a woman responsible for raising children as someone who cannot afford to be involved in activism that could become threatening.
Except now we know that yesterday morning in Knoxville, being present for a UU service (a children's play, for God's sake) meant being in a life or death situation.
May our faith guide us toward healing as we pray for our fellow UUs,
Elizabeth
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Wrestling With Adulthood: UU Men Talk about Growing Up
Wrestling With Adulthood: Unitarian Universalist Men Talk about Growing Up is a book of essays, one of which was just published in UU World: "Finding my path..." by Manish Mishra. Mishra really bares his soul in this essay -- I actually felt embarrassed while reading it, as if I should not know such intimate details of this man's life.
Mishra contrasts the certainty he had about his life with his later discoveries, demonstrating how he inadvertently chose both the wrong career and the wrong life partner ("vocation and human connection") when in his early twenties. At the time, of course, he was completely convinced that he was doing the right thing. Does this sound familiar to any of you?
Now, Mishra realizes that he entered into both the career and the partnership without knowing who he was or what he wanted. Perhaps for some of us, we have to choose the wrong things in order to find out what we really do want. Nothing fuels self-discovery like being miserable. It provides such great incentive! But, really, how could anyone possibly make permanent decisions when only twenty years old?
When I was nineteen, I was completely sure I was marrying my life partner. People asked how I was so sure, but my answer was, "When it's right, you know it." That is a line from a beer commercial, I think! In reality, I did not realize at the time why I was drawn to that man. It wasn't for the best reasons. There is a term for relationships in which folks marry young, don't have children, then divorce before they're thirty: the starter marriage.
Some people complain about "extended adolescence" that seems to grip so many of us, but I think it is great. Life expectancy is longer than ever, so waiting until 30 or 35 to become a responsible, settled adult is perfectly reasonable.
Enough of this -- let's play kickball!
Elizabeth
Mishra contrasts the certainty he had about his life with his later discoveries, demonstrating how he inadvertently chose both the wrong career and the wrong life partner ("vocation and human connection") when in his early twenties. At the time, of course, he was completely convinced that he was doing the right thing. Does this sound familiar to any of you?
Now, Mishra realizes that he entered into both the career and the partnership without knowing who he was or what he wanted. Perhaps for some of us, we have to choose the wrong things in order to find out what we really do want. Nothing fuels self-discovery like being miserable. It provides such great incentive! But, really, how could anyone possibly make permanent decisions when only twenty years old?
When I was nineteen, I was completely sure I was marrying my life partner. People asked how I was so sure, but my answer was, "When it's right, you know it." That is a line from a beer commercial, I think! In reality, I did not realize at the time why I was drawn to that man. It wasn't for the best reasons. There is a term for relationships in which folks marry young, don't have children, then divorce before they're thirty: the starter marriage.
Some people complain about "extended adolescence" that seems to grip so many of us, but I think it is great. Life expectancy is longer than ever, so waiting until 30 or 35 to become a responsible, settled adult is perfectly reasonable.
Enough of this -- let's play kickball!
Elizabeth
Monday, June 30, 2008
"Now Let Us Sing" -- Finally!
Hooray! During the Closing Celebration of General Assembly, we sang "Now Let Us Sing," number 368 in our hymnal Singing the Living Tradition. At the Long Beach GA, Jim Scott tried to teach this during his GA workshop, but he started us out much too slowly (in my opinion) and people didn't catch on. I was disappointed, but you really cannot sing this one slowly. It won't work. So, it was quite a thrill when Sarah Dan Jones led it yesterday. I belted it out at home with my spouse while watching everyone get into it at GA. I hope many of the attendees take it home to sing in their congregations.
"Now Let Us Sing" is one of my very favorite hymns, partly because of its rich history at my congregation. Way back in 2000-01, Madison UUs began to learn number 368, first at James Reeb UU Congregation, then through the young adult group and then during worship services at my congregation. The first time we sang it at FUS, one of our ministers had four printed cards: Faith, Hope, Love and Joy. She held up one card for each verse! We had at least two song leaders, one for each part. After that, we sang "Now Let Us" fairly often for awhile, with only two screw-ups: once someone made the mistake of playing it on the organ and another time only the men got to sing it. Other than that, it's been pure bliss every time. We even sang it as an Energy Break at a Parish Meeting once. And of course, on the busride home from the St. Louis GA!
Anyway, if you don't know "Now Let Us Sing," I highly recommend you give it a try. Sing it fast; sing it often for optimal ecstacy.
Elizabeth
"Now Let Us Sing" is one of my very favorite hymns, partly because of its rich history at my congregation. Way back in 2000-01, Madison UUs began to learn number 368, first at James Reeb UU Congregation, then through the young adult group and then during worship services at my congregation. The first time we sang it at FUS, one of our ministers had four printed cards: Faith, Hope, Love and Joy. She held up one card for each verse! We had at least two song leaders, one for each part. After that, we sang "Now Let Us" fairly often for awhile, with only two screw-ups: once someone made the mistake of playing it on the organ and another time only the men got to sing it. Other than that, it's been pure bliss every time. We even sang it as an Energy Break at a Parish Meeting once. And of course, on the busride home from the St. Louis GA!
Anyway, if you don't know "Now Let Us Sing," I highly recommend you give it a try. Sing it fast; sing it often for optimal ecstacy.
Elizabeth
Friday, June 20, 2008
Hands in the Air? General Assembly from Afar
I've been watching the live streaming of General Assembly: our annual meeting, conference, convention, celebration and UU Revival. If it weren't for the security restrictions, our lack of funds and my spouse's heart attack, I would want to be there in person!
GA is usually the high point of my year: I revel in Universalism, the hands-in-the-air worship services, spectacularly moving music, huge crowds, great speakers, dancing, singing, connecting with friends and meeting new ones. GA is an extravert's paradise -- each day, I have more energy than the day before as the ecstacy builds, until I shout Hallelujah all the way home!
GA is usually the high point of my year: I revel in Universalism, the hands-in-the-air worship services, spectacularly moving music, huge crowds, great speakers, dancing, singing, connecting with friends and meeting new ones. GA is an extravert's paradise -- each day, I have more energy than the day before as the ecstacy builds, until I shout Hallelujah all the way home!
Certainly, those of us watching on our laptops aren't having that experience, but we can still be inspired and challenged from afar. Plenary II, featuring debate on a business resolution urging us to make a strong commitment to youth and young adult ministry, was outstanding. To hear youth and young adults express their yearnings for belonging, support, guidance and empowerment was thrilling. To hear a few older delegates express their misgivings about the proposed resolution because it didn't include details about how to improve youth and young adult ministry in our congregations was sobering, but familiar.
In the end, I was proud to see a large majority vote for the resolution. What is so wrong about being idealistic, about expressing a vision for the future? I love hearing someone cast the vision. Because once we've got the vision, we can figure out the details ourselves -- the planning and execution of the objectives in our day-to-day church lives.
I don't want those select few who attend GA to tell the rest of us how to do something, but showing us why, giving us a challenging vision for the future is great.
With goosebumps,
Elizabeth
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Flower Communion: A UU High Holy Day
I attended three different Flower Communions this spring because I love the legacy of Norbert Capek, flowers and our UU rituals. At James Reeb UU Congregation, Rev. Darrel robed for the service, calling Flower Communion one of our "High Holy Days"! He had set up the chairs in the round, with a fabric-covered table in the center, complete with the Chalice, orchids and a few large vases full of water. We took our flowers up and made beautiful bouquets with them, then went up later to take a different flower. Wow! I'd never been to FC at a small congregation before, so didn't realize how creative one can be with the ritual elements.
The other two services were at my hUUge congregation, with choirs singing and the usual benches-facing-the-pulpit setup. But at the Saturday service, ushers sent baskets of flowers around so we could each take one. The usual Sunday thing is for the flowers to just be at the pulpit for folks to take if they want after the service ends, so that dispersing the flowers is not part of the ritual. The services where we took flowers and held and smelled them had more meaning to me, because grasping a flower that represents the beauty and uniqueness of a fellow human is much more profound than gazing at a bouquet from afar. It's important to me for rituals to be participatory -- open to all of us, no matter what.
When I was a little girl, I never liked watching the priest conduct an elaborate ritual to mix himself a drink that only he could have. I don't like unexplained, exclusionary rituals that don't ring true for me. Flower Communion, with its melding of natural beauty, community, inspiration, courage and justice is as real at it gets. Thank God for religious freedom and for those who gave their lives to uphold it.
One more note: Now that I've embraced the notion that a ritual is simply a repeated action that has a deeper meaning beyond the physical and has a beginning, a middle and an end, I have been empowered to celebrate and even create my own family rituals. (Learned this at the 2006 Meadville Lombard Winter Institute.)
A Sweet June Day to all,
Elizabeth
The other two services were at my hUUge congregation, with choirs singing and the usual benches-facing-the-pulpit setup. But at the Saturday service, ushers sent baskets of flowers around so we could each take one. The usual Sunday thing is for the flowers to just be at the pulpit for folks to take if they want after the service ends, so that dispersing the flowers is not part of the ritual. The services where we took flowers and held and smelled them had more meaning to me, because grasping a flower that represents the beauty and uniqueness of a fellow human is much more profound than gazing at a bouquet from afar. It's important to me for rituals to be participatory -- open to all of us, no matter what.
When I was a little girl, I never liked watching the priest conduct an elaborate ritual to mix himself a drink that only he could have. I don't like unexplained, exclusionary rituals that don't ring true for me. Flower Communion, with its melding of natural beauty, community, inspiration, courage and justice is as real at it gets. Thank God for religious freedom and for those who gave their lives to uphold it.
One more note: Now that I've embraced the notion that a ritual is simply a repeated action that has a deeper meaning beyond the physical and has a beginning, a middle and an end, I have been empowered to celebrate and even create my own family rituals. (Learned this at the 2006 Meadville Lombard Winter Institute.)
A Sweet June Day to all,
Elizabeth
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