The Sermon on the Amount

February 4, 1979
Lakeland
(re-write: Port Charlotte, 1980)

The Sermon on the Amount

I tried, but my deepest thought and limited imagination did not give me with the wit, humor or wisdom to string out the pun, “The Sermon on the Amount.” But it is a fact that this Fellowship will continue as a place of our gathering if we members pledge and pay our financial support. The amount counts. Our Financial Committee, with many helpers, have put in long hours, planned a series of meetings where you have had an opportunity to say what this Fellowship means to you and could mean to you. Later in this meeting you will have the opportunity to state your priorities or refine the priorities the Finance Committee has sensed from your comments.

There was a cartoon in a church magazine which depicted two glum-looking clergymen, probably the senior and associate ministers, gazing at a rather sparse sum of money. One says to the other, "Inflation seems to have hit everything but the collection plate."

What is of value to you? A few years ago, when I was in the NYC area, there was a news story about a saloon which had to move because the building in which it was located was taken for some urban renewal project. There was argument by city and federal housing authorities as to whether or not the historic tavern was a "social institution worth saving." Then after a period, the decision was made, the saloon was valued as a social institution and would be permitted to rent space in the new project when the building was completed. Meanwhile temporary quarters across the street would be rented. The happy, regular customers helped move bar stools and tables across the street. One of them was quoted in a most interesting comment, "If it wasn't for this place, God knows, I'd have to go to church to find any of the boys."

What do you see in this Fellowship? An out-distanced runner-up to a convivial pub, or something more?

The members of the Fellowship provide the only substantial flow of funds. The Fellowship is the body of persons, members and friends held together, voluntarily, by a common rule. We assemble to share convictions, to attempt mutual persuasion, to set directions for actions. We see a fellow Unitarian Universalist not only as another person whose beliefs are not limited by an imposed creed, but also see him/her as a person whose convictions represent interdependency as well as independence. The Fellowship knows itself not only in the lateral profiles and the back-of-the-neck views of our chairs arranged in rows. More vitally, we know each other in face-to-face mutual involvement.

The persons in our Fellowship who consider, decide, commit and act represent no permanent line of portraits in an unchanging gallery. Thornton Wilder's play, OUR TOWN, superbly presented the temporary nature of individual lives and the permanence of the human family. Wilder captured the glory and pathos in the lives of average persons in Grovers Corners, not much different from you and me.

The persons in our Fellowship are like the people in OUR TOWN. A child is born; with gladness he/she is welcomed and the group counts one more. Man and woman choose to walk together henceforth and we are glad for their union. A man or woman dies in bed, or far from home. We count one less and know the tug of sorrow. Our minds are anxious with unanswerable questions when tragedy strikes; our roster is lessened by an aching omission. A family moves – this is an age of mobility – we are glad when theirs is a more rewarding assignment, but sorry that a needed family has gone beyond the immediate circle of our Fellowship life. A new family or individual arrives. We are glad because we need talent, interest, influence, support. We need the bracing, yeasty ferment of new ideas and fresh strength. We need the added happiness created by new friends.

The persons in our Fellowship are a moving, changing pageant, never the same today as yesterday; and no tomorrow will be just like today. We journey together on the road to an unknown future. Sooner or later, every one of us will drop out along the route of the human march. But if we have walked together with good-will, understanding and mutual help, we will have been stronger individually and a happier company in our journey together.

But to keep that quality, we must keep organization and support effective. In the fine series of books, RIVERS OF AMERICA, Henry Beston described the geography and culture of the areas bordering the great St. Lawrence River. Beston wrote of a unique quality of life in rural, devout French Canada, "like an old room warmed by an open fire, the little society was warmed by that sense of human oneness and ultimate equality which the religious temper alone can give."

The campaign organization and plans for our Annual Fund Drive are put together because business-like procedures are required. Now there are always those who feel some sensitivity when money matters explicitly intrude on their life in the Fellowship. But there is nothing awry or gauche in an orderly, informed campaign to raise money for the Fellowship. I still remember a scene from a musical on Broadway, ON A CLEAR DAY YOU CAN SEE FOREVER, one of the more amusing characters is a Greek-multi-millionaire shipping magnate, who in the unfolding of the plot, visits the clinic operated by the hero and his brother, both psychologists. The millionaire keeps referring to “who runs the business here? Who manages the business?” and so on. The psychologist, sensitive to his professional qualifications, keeps assuring the rich man, “this is not a business, this is a psychological clinic.” The shipping magnate stares and asks, “You take in Money?” “Yes.” “Well, it's a business.”

In that frame of reference, this Fellowship is a business, too. Money is taken in because when a button is switched, you expect the bulb to light. You expect to be warm or cool depending on the weather, to be untouched by falling plaster or rain from a leaky roof. You decided that you wish to retain me on a part-time basis because I have been trained for the profession of ministry. A good religious education program requires supplies and curricula. The government requires postage on mail. For this and much more, you commitment of money is asked.

Support of our Unitarian Universalist Association
Florida District
Cluster

It's a business.

Don’t give until it hurts, within your means, give until it feels good.

But remember that in this "business", you, the members, are the management. In the Annual meeting, members make the binding choices for the allocation of money from the pledges of the members. You pick and choose.

Because we believe that the person is more than a molecular sequence, or a biochemical conglomeration, we covenant together to maintain the value of the person, to seek the ways, individually and together, to support the issues which will create increasing recognition of the surpassing need to labor for freedom, fellowship and human dignity. This is our purpose as a Fellowship. We differ among us as to how we shall worship together, how we shall describe God, or whether we shall even attach any meaning to the idea of God. We interpret the experience of religion variously. We seek to deepen our faith by openness to the conviction of others, whose witness for religion may be based on differing intensities of experience and unlike interpretations.

Yes – raising money is a business – but if we respond well to the efforts our Finance Committee has made, we will find that we have enhanced the depth, joy, fun, and feeling of being together:

The joy of an old story or a new child

The vibrating sensitivity of human empathy when we embrace the grief stricken or the joyful

The zest of fine conversations
The delight of a shared meal

The remembrance of things past
The chance to stand on an issue – help

The hope (and expectation) of new and good experiences to come

This I believe is our total worship – our worthship.

Addendum

Quote from Charles Morris, The Open Self, p. 23:

“It is not the wind which is lacking, but the hoisting of our sails.”