Reach for the Stars

The breath of life -- our very soul, our very essence.  Inhalation and exhalation existing seamlessly with all that is around us.  In this cosmic union we're offered the possibility of centering that connection with life, with our breath, in peace.  Equally so, we are capable of expressing our love through every breath, every word, every deed.  All too often, however, the rhythm of the world around us pushes us towards worry, doubt, and fear; we are bombarded with situations that challenge our commitment to peaceful centeredness and loving expression.

As we gather tonight, we center ourselves in peace, taking in the presence of our Unitarian Universalist brothers and sisters from all across Florida.  It is something we do only once a year.  We create this special time and context, and in doing so shift from the ordinary and mundane to a communion that is holy; in one another we find respite and hope.  It matters that we do this, for in this circle (or hexagon, as the case may be), we are reminded of how our religion changes lives - how it saves lives - across our state, and across our nation.  We are reminded that our collective spiritual journeys, while rooted in congregations, are bigger than any one congregation.  And through that, we are reminded of the profound strength in knowing that we are not alone, that none of our congregations are alone.

This collective awareness requires a journey that rightfully starts with the individual: we must turn inward, and ground ourselves in peace, in order to be effective outward, to be of meaningful help to anybody else.  That yearning for inner peace expresses itself in many complex ways.  At its most rudimentary level, it may be the spiritual search that leads many of us to discover that Unitarian Universalism exists.  That process of discovery is not always easy or simple.  

It has become cliche when we hear, over and over again, that many people in our communities have no idea who we are.  How effective we are in advertising is one thing that contributes to this.  In the Tampa Bay area I am regularly impressed with how the local United Church of Christ congregations band together and buy full page ads in weekly or monthly newspapers, ads that they could not individually afford.  We UUs tend to settle for the tiny print in the community pages, that one line that is published either for free or at very little cost.  Occasionally we splurge, and we get a small box of equally diminutive size, usually it's printed in the corner of some page.

My own discovery of Unitarian Universalism occurred in a rather roundabout way.  About decade ago, I was living amidst one of the largest concentrations of UUs in the country, in Washington D.C.  In fact, I was living in a condominium five blocks from one of our most historic and prominent churches, All Souls.  Surrounded by UUs and UU churches, I had never even heard the term Unitarian Universalist. 

It was in the midst of a spiritual crisis, a sense of loneliness at not having a religious community, that I found myself on the phone with my best friend, a guy living in Finland.  On this long-distance call, I explained to him how, as a gay individual, I felt I couldn't find a place of acceptance within my faith of origin, within the Hindu community.  On top of that, it didn't seem like I had any options because there wasn't even a slim chance that I was going to convert to Christianity or anything else.  What was a disenchanted Hindu to do?

Now, what you need to know is that Finland has all of 30 Unitarians, while in contrast the metro-DC area has thousands, and it was my atheist friend in Europe, living in a country that has state-sponsored Lutheranism, who asked me if I've ever heard of Unitarians.

(This was totally a Garrison Keillor moment -- one that makes you wonder what kind of advertising those 30 Finnish Unitarians are doing...) 

I said, "No," I hadn't heard of Unitarians, and what ensued was an internet search that landed me at All Souls for worship the very next day. 

I've imagined at times filling out one of those questionnaires, the kind that asks, "How did you learn about Unitarian Universalism?" "radio?  TV?  magazine ad?"  I would need to scroll down to the bottom of that list and check the box that says 'other'...and then fill in "referred to Unitarian Universalism by non-native English speaker who lives near the Arctic Circle."

Well, I'm happy to report that it's becoming easier than that to find Unitarian Universalism.  For the first time that I'm aware, the UU churches in this part of Florida are jointly taking out full page advertising this summer, reaching out to the more than 50,000 visitors that will come to Tampa Bay for what is Florida's largest gay pride celebration, St. Pete Pride.

As many of us know, discovering (or, in my case, stumbling across), Unitarian Universalism is the first step, it's the beginning of what can become a process of ongoing spiritual growth and discovery.  Many of us have to deal with the pain and wounds of previous religious experiences.  That might involve letting go of or redefining those things that had hurt us.  It also gives us the opportunity to reclaim those ideas and beliefs that we liked.  We need not accept the trinity, or oppressive theologies of sin and redemption, in order to accept Jesus as an incredibly wise human being who spoke about love.  It was in a similar way that I went back to Hinduism and re-examined it through the eyes of Unitarian Universalism.

Healing our wounds, reclaiming our past, redefining our understanding of religion -- these are spiritual struggles that many of us grapple with.  Wrestling with these challenges well is one road that leads us to a place of greater peace.  The kind of peace we spoke about earlier, a peacefulness grounded in spiritual harmony. 

The different aspects of our lives are interwoven, and as we experience harmony in one area, it becomes more glaring when other aspects of our life are out of synch.  Greater spiritual grounding leads us to want that same kind of wholeness in our friendships, relationships, and in our vocation.  In fact, our spiritual life can give us the strength to actively seek out greater harmony in these other areas.  I don't see it as coincidence that, for example, 2 years after discovering Unitarian Universalism I left a career that did not express my values, or that a few years further down the road, I figured out that I was not in the type of relationship (partnership) that was right for me. 

As we find ourselves in greater spiritual harmony, as we allow Unitarian Universalism to sink deep within us, we are changed.  We return to our daily lives, we return to the world around us, looking at it differently.  In the process, we bring alive one of the core aspects of our faith.  Unlike other religions that claim that truth is fixed and immovable for all time, we stand with those who proclaim that revelation is open; that we are constantly learning new truths about ourselves, our common humanity, and the world we live in.

As true as this is, and I deeply believe it to be true, I would never have imagined in a million years that in the first year of a new ministry, in a city and state that I've never lived in before, that I would become one of our faith's public champions for transgender rights.  It's an issue I've struggled with, and I can't claim to have a perfect understanding of it.  Beyond that, isn't there this unspoken rule that you're not supposed to tackle anything controversial in the first year of a new ministry?  (I took that one under advisement...)

[As I move into this story, I feel like Rev. Abhi Janamanchi should be standing here, with me, because from the beginning, we were partners on this issue.]

Some of you may not know the saga of Largo, Florida.  Largo is a small city nestled between Clearwater and St. Petersburg.  About two months ago, at the end of February, the largest newspaper in this area, The St. Petersburg Times, broke an exclusive story that Steve Stanton, the City Manager of Largo, the city's highest-ranking civil servant, was in the midst of gender reassignment.  It was a hard story to read, particularly because in it the newspaper acknowledged that Stanton had planned on sharing his situation with his teenage son this summer, after school let out, in order to spare him the reaction of his classmates.  That plan fell by the wayside, as the media developed its own timeline. 

It was perhaps predictable, after the news broke, that mass hysteria would ensue.  The St. Petersburg Times was flooded with letters denouncing the City Manager; residents overwhelmed City Hall with emails and phone calls demanding that Stanton be fired.  What I did not expect was that the City Commission, Largo's equivalent of a City Council, would buy into this hysteria.  Within days, an emergency hearing of the Commission was called; the hearing, in fact, was scheduled to take place just six days after the newspaper broke its story.  Not even a week would have passed.

I was troubled in the days leading up to this emergency hearing.  This story had gotten to me.  Given my own experiences prior to finding Unitarian Universalism, I knew what it felt like to run up against the social limits of an entire culture; the limits of what a culture considered acceptable and unacceptable.  I knew what it felt like to feel that isolated.  I called Abhi to share my reactions with him, minister-to-minister, and he told me that he was just picking up the phone to call me about the same thing.  We resolved to work together on this, and initially sent joint letters to every member of the Largo City Commission and to The St. Petersburg Times.  We resolved to jointly attend the Commission's emergency hearing.

Friends, if there were ever any doubt that Unitarian Universalism matters, please put it to rest.  We saw that night why our faith matters, why our presence and witness matters.  At this emergency hearing there were perhaps half a dozen liberal clergy.  Perhaps.  The conservative clergy showed up in force, with buses full of parishioners.  They dragged into the Commission chambers boxes full of documents and research that they had somehow done in a matter of days, all in order to establish their case for firing Stanton.

What ensued that night was a spectacle of gut-wrenching proportions.  Every time anything negative was said about Stanton, people seated in the viewing rooms leapt to their feet; they clapped, cheered, and they jumped up and down at the prospect of ruining a man's career.  There was little dignity, little respect at Largo City Hall that night. 

Abhi was granted the privilege to address the City Commission and spoke eloquently about the nature of civil rights, human dignity, and about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream.  He urged the Commission not to allow a tyranny of the majority. 

With equal conviction, with dozens of parishioners arrayed behind him, and to shouts of joy, the Senior Minister at Largo's Baptist church proclaimed that Stanton was a disgrace and that "even Jesus would fire him." 

The entire event was nothing short of a modern-day lynching, a formality in justifying a conclusion that had already been ordained.  Stanton was fired, and there was not a shred of justice in it.

When Mahatma Gandhi confronted the abuse and exploitation of colonialism, he coined a phrase to convey his absolute, unflinching resolve to non-violently counter oppression and injustice.  That phrase is satyagraha, literally it means 'truth force,' but that translation is inadequate.  It speaks to the kind of truth that is rooted in our most grounded, our most centered selves; it is the kind of truth Emerson wrote about, the kind that emerges from the inner most depths of our soul.  That was Gandhi's response to violence: meet violence (physical, social, religious, whatever its form) with the force of your truth. 

'Breathing in, I breathe in peace, breathing out, I breath out love.'  Satyagraha is the embodiment of that.

What happened next was in fact a sataygraha.  Largo Commissioners announced that they voted to dismiss Stanton because the public had lost confidence in him.  The minister of Largo's Baptist church proclaimed that even God was against Stanton.  Neither of those assertions were true.

Within days, the St. Petersburg Times published opinion polls showing that the vast majority of Largo residents, something like 70%, said that they would have no problem working side-by-side with a transgender individual.

Within days of that, a week after Largo's emergency hearing, the minister at the Unity Church of Clearwater, Abhi, and I convened a press conference in front of Largo City Hall.  It was on a Tuesday, in the middle of the work week, during mid-morning, and as such it was not a terribly convenient time for people to show up at a rally or press conference.  Given all of this, we were expecting perhaps a dozen clergy and, in addition to the media, perhaps 100 or so supporters, and likely many protesters. 

Over three dozen liberal clergy members attended and signed a petition that was presented to Largo's Mayor; over 350 supporters attended the rally.  And we had precisely two protesters.  It was astounding.  No longer could those who advocated bigotry claim that the public had lost confidence in Stanton, or that religious people were unified in their opposition to transgender'ism.  T=In the space of an hour, those arguments were wiped away, and in the process our Unitarian Universalist values were highlighted on television, radio, and in the press throughout the Tampa Bay region.  (We who spend little on advertising got a lot of it that week!)

The decision to fire Stanton, unfortunately, was re-affirmed at an appeals hearing at the end of March.  But the story hasn't ended there, because the force of truth, satyagraha, is unwavering and persistent.  Clergy in Clearwater, Largo, and beyond have begun agitating for city and county-wide human rights ordinances, ordinances similar to those that already exist in St. Petersburg and Gulfport.  Interest groups in the area are creating educational opportunities about transgender'ism; in fact, there's one such forum this Monday night.  For better or worse, Steve Stanton has elevated the issue of transgender individuals to the national stage.  If one ever needed a textbook example of why we should pass federal employment non-discrimination laws that includes gay, lesbian, bi, and transgender employees, Steve is it.

I was in Denver this past week and visited the First Universalist Church.  While there, I stumbled across a banner that said, "those who dream, touch the stars."  We cannot reach for the stars if we're overwhelmed with parochial concerns.  This is true about us as individuals; it is true about us as congregations.  The ability to dream gets us out of our heads, it transports us to a different time and place where the word 'impossible' doesn't exist.  In dreams, everything is possible.

So, what would it look like for us to dream together?  What kind of Unitarian Universalism do we want to see in Florida?  I won't presume to speak on behalf of your dreams, because I don't know what they are, but I can share some of mine.

I would like to see my church more deeply connected with other UU congregations throughout the state.  My church is growing, our institutional structures are changing, and our programs are expanding.  Many of you, and your churches, have already done this work.  We can mentor and counsel one another.  District Assembly is one way we do this, but I want to dream big -- I would like to see our congregations even more deeply connected, and maintaining ongoing relationships throughout the year, not just at District Assembly.  In this part of Florida, Gainesville has been paving the way, building such connections, by inviting pulpit swaps and reciprocal visits of Board members.

But, I want to dream bigger.  If the UCC congregations can find ways to support one another by combining their advertising dollars, why not us?  Why can't we do the same?

And I'd like to dream even bigger than that.  We liberal UUs should have an impact on Florida politics, both locally and state-wide.  Our message desperately needs to be heard here, and it does make a difference.  As one member who joined our progressive coalition for Largo said, "This [this kind of organizing] is what you UUs are known for; you're better at this than we are."  In my dreams, we're both building and leading these kinds of justice-oriented coalitions; in fact, we're known throughout the state for it.

We gather like this only once a year.  Now's the time to dream big. In dreaming, we can touch the stars - it need not be this year, or next year, or anytime soon.  But by simply reaching for those stars, we keep our dreams alive.