With a Lion at Her Feet

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Listen to the sermon here:

With a Lion at Her Feet

or watch and listen to the sermon on Facebook.

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Thekla. A young woman, caught up in a culture wherein she is denied all control over her life. Her mother makes her decisions for her, and she is engaged to a man who believes he is entitled to her submission — something which is validated by all those around them. Thekla has been denied affirmation of her inherent worth and dignity.

But then, she is given the chance to hear the teachings of Paul. She hears someone speak of love that rises above all injustice, of equality that knows no sex or gender. She hears a voice telling her that she is a person and not a thing. For teaching her this, Paul is thrown in jail. Think about that. Think about how powerful words can be, and how dangerous they are to people who hoard and abuse their power.

Regardless, Thekla has tasted freedom, freedom of her heart and freedom from her chains. Neither her mother nor her betrothed find that they can control her anymore, and while Paul is merely imprisoned, Thekla’s own mother asks for her to be burned. People oppressed by a system are most often taught that they must collaborate willingly in the system in order to survive.

Now, I know this story has some miracles in it. I’m not asking you to take them literally. What I want to do is invite you to consider them as metaphor for the immense power of the religious community to love, and protect, and change the fabric of the world around us. Thekla is saved from the pyre by an outpouring of rain; we learn that Paul and his people were actively praying for her deliverance.

What would it take for us to become the rain — single drops, each of us, overwhelmed by the magnitude of putting out a raging fire. And yet, when joined together, we become a downpour, extinguishing fires of hate and injustice. Rabbi Shana Mackler, of the Temple, taught me a saying that has become essential to my spiritual life this last week. “Pray as if everything is up to God. Act as if everything is up to you.”

Prayer, of course, means different things to different people. And maybe you’re not the kind of person who finds prayer to be very useful in your life. But I would offer up that because prayer can take so many different forms, and that one of those forms is to act as a direct conduit to our conscience, that maybe it’s not so irrelevant to all of us in these times. The Sikhs go to daily prayers because they believe that hearing and chanting the words of the Guru Granth attunes them to the needs of the universe each day. Prayer can be engaging with our personal gods, or with our still, small voice. However your personal spiritual journey has, and continues to unfold, prayer is not about quieting and soothing the mind, like meditation, but rather is about actively engaging your inner self to help choose the course of your outer life. This religious community offers up a mission, and shared values, to help guide us in this constant discernment.

Pray as if you are part of something bigger than yourself — a world that encompasses far more than one person’s experience. Act as if loving that world, and all the people in it, begins with you.

Let us return now to Thekla. Reunited with Paul, they travel to Antioch, where a powerful government man first tries to buy Thekla from Paul, and then, finding that she is not owned, immediately forces himself upon her in a public street and in broad daylight. He just grabs her and starts kissing her. Apparently he can’t help himself. She fights back, in the process ripping his clothes and knocking his crown off his head. Once again the world in which she lives is trying to make her into an object, and she finds the courage to resist from the love and empowering message taught to her by her religious community. Even though, once again, she finds herself under arrest and sentenced to death, while the power figure trying to control and objectify her, trying to make her less than human, is allowed to continue as a public figure and government leader.

But Thekla will not be silenced. She will not be contained. She not only believes that she has inherent worth and dignity, but she has also been told this, and shown this, by her religious community. She preaches about it to all who will listen, including the people of the house where she is kept locked up until it is her time to be thrown to the beasts.

And here we have another miracle. The lioness, the fierce beast meant to kill Thekla, most likely starved and abused by keepers in order to increase the violence of the demonstration, walks up and lays at her feet. Another creature, trapped in the system, decides to say, “Not this time.” They try again the next day, and not only does another lioness refuse to attack, but it protects her from the other beasts released into the theatre.

“Not this time.”

In this story, the beasts are not less than humans, but merely a different aspect of creation. They represent the diversity of this world, and the fundamental, interdependent web of which we are all a part. The lions have not necessarily heard Thekla preach, nor have they been converted. They simply see an injustice being perpetuated, one tied to their own captivity and oppression — because we are all tied to each other — and they rise up in solidarity.

“Not this time. And never again.”

Now, here’s the part that I love, and that has led to institutional western Christianity to run away screaming from this text.

In the midst of all this — a theatre of execution games, wild beasts running around, crowds of people, half of whom are screaming for her death while the other half are so moved they shower her with gifts thrown from the stands — in the midst of all this, she sees a tank of water, and says, “Oh look! This is a perfect time to baptise myself!” And throws herself in. She baptises herself. She doesn’t need Paul, or anyone else to declare her fit for it. She doesn’t need someone to bless the water. She doesn’t need someone else’s hand to be involved at all.

When this story began, she was a person trapped, with no autonomy over her life except to sit at her window, waiting for her mother or her future husband to make decisions for her. It is through hearing a message of love and acceptance, for everyone, not just some, that led her to make her first escape. It is through experiencing how that religious community lived their message, in deed as well as in word, that empowered her to claim her personhood, even when it was threatened. It was knowing that she was not alone, even if they were not physically by her side, that allowed her to know she could create herself however she wished, as long as it could be held over and against the values of love and justice she had been taught by her religious community.

Freshly baptised, and with the beasts dead around her, and half the crowd cheering for her, the powers that be are forced to let her go. She returns to Paul, and he tells her to go forth into the world and to preach of what she knows. She spends the rest of her long life doing that, and becoming a healer. She brings the religious community with her wherever she goes, working to heal those around her of their fear, anger, loneliness. She lives a life of compassion and strength, offering comfort and love to those who need it the most. She prays as if everything is up to God, and she acts as if everything is up to her.

So here we are, now, almost two thousand years later. While we may not cleave to Thekla’s Christianity, we can absolutely relate to her experience of how a community built on love and justice can heal us and empower us to live in the world. The Acts of Paul and Thekla was a text written to justify women as religious leaders and preachers, but it is ultimately, for me, about personhood. Replace her identity as a woman with any other oppressed identity — being black, being Muslim, etc. — and little about the story changes. How do we, as Unitarian Universalists, live into our legacy of a religious community built on love and justice?

Today we are welcoming new members. They have decided not only to participate in the shared ownership of and responsibility for this congregation and its ministries They also are promising to uphold and live into this congregation’s mission. Being a part of this religious community, in addition to our seven UU principles, means answering a call to create community, nurture spiritual growth, and act on our values in the larger world. We are not, as many claim,a community in which you can believe or do anything you want. We are a community in which we celebrate the diversity of our lives, and the diversity of our spiritual journeys, and we are called to believe only that which our conscience allows us. What we claim in this space, when we are gathered in safety, means nothing if we do not also live into it when we are separated, and the beasts are coming for us and those around us.

This congregation is a sanctuary. That means it is a place where those who need safety are met with protection. That those who have been hurt and battered outside our walls will find healing. That those who are tired and weary will find rest. That those whose voices have been silenced will be encouraged to share their stories. That those who are lonely will find companionship. That those of us who, like Thekla, have learned that they are worthy of love just because they exist, will in turn teach it, show it, to those of us still struggling to love ourselves.

May it be so.

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Water Communion Prayers

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These prayers were written to go with the verses of hymn #100 in Singing the Living Tradition, “I’ve Got Peace Like a River”. The choir sang each verse in response to the spoken prayer.

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In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people working for peace in many different ways” peace within in themselves, their families, their communities, and in the world at large. May they find the support they need for this holy work.

I’ve got peace like a river…

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people celebrating a multitude of joys in their lives and the lives of others. We happily witness all these moments of gladness with them, living in to a community of abundance.

I’ve got joy like a fountain…

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people who love. And, like the ocean, love can take many forms: deep, calm, rocky, fierce – but it is always powerful. May we strive to love ourselves and each other with the power of a love that nurtures, heals, and supports.

I’ve got love like an ocean…

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people suffering. Their pain could be physical, emotional, mental. It whatever way they are suffering, it has taken hold, and they need support to survive it. May we always be steadfast and gentle when we witness the pain of others, and work towards caring for all in our interdependent web.

I’ve got pain like an arrow…

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls, people shed tears of both joy and sorrow. These tears are how our bodies share the deep, feelings of our hearts. They represent something within in us that is so profound, so fundamental, that it must be shared with our entire beings. May the tears of our lives always be recognized as sacred.

I’ve got tears like the raindrops…

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls, people discover strength in themselves and in others that they never thought possible. We also struggle with when we find ourselves tired, or weak, and afraid to ask for help in our times of need. May we find here in this gathered community the strength we can offer, and the strength we need.

I’ve got strength like a mountain…

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Small Group: Prayer

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First UU Church of Nashville Covenant Group Session Plan #143
Meghann Robern, Intern Minister

February Worship Theme: Prayer/Meditation/Equanimity

Opening Words: Bobby McFerrin, “The 23rd Psalm (Dedicated to my Mother)”

The Lord is my Shepherd, I have all I need
She makes me lie down in green meadows
Beside the still waters, She will lead

She restores my soul, She rights my wrongs
She leads me in a path of good things
And fills my heart with songs

Even though I walk, through a dark and dreary land
There is nothing that can shake me
She has said She won’t forsake me; I’m in her hand

She sets a table before me, in the presence of my foes
She anoints my head with oil
And my cup overflows

Surely, surely goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life
And I will live in her house
Forever, forever and ever

Glory be to our Mother, and Daughter, and to the Holy of Holies
As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be
World, without end Amen

Chalice Lighting and Covenant

Check-In and Sharing

Topic:

Do you pray? Why or why not?
If you do, what form(s) does it take? Body/movement? Silence? Chant?
Is prayer different from meditation for you? Why or why not?
What images and/or feelings does the word “prayer” bring up for you? Are they comfortable or uncomfortable?

Closing Check-Out and Chalice Extinguishing

Closing Words: Shantideva, “A Bodhisattva’s Prayer”

May I be a protector to those without protection,
a leader for those who journey,
and a boat, a bridge, a passage
for those desiring future shore.
May the pain of every living creature
be completely cleared away.
May I be the doctor and the medicine
and may I be the nurse
for all sick beings in the world
until everyone is healed.
Just like space
and the great elements such as earth,
may I always support the life
of all the boundless creatures.
And until they pass away from pain
may I also be the source of life
for all the realms of varied beings
that reach unto the ends of space.

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Invocation Nashville Labor Day Parade 2015

Community, ingathering, is one of the most powerful forces in the world. Today we have gathered as a community to celebrate the contributions of the labor force, and how they have given strength and prosperity to the well-being of our country.

We have also gathered to remember that our work as a community is not finished. That as we celebrate victories already won in our past, there are still battles yet to be fought for justice, equity, and dignity.

As we walk today, let us put our minds to the steps of our feet, building a new path into a better world.

A world where all workers are valued.

A world where those who risk life and limb are protected.

A world where those who clean houses are also able to buy houses to live in.

A world where those who grow food can also afford to eat their fill.

A world where those who build hospitals can use them when they are sick or injured.

A world where those who build hotels can take time to rest with their families.

A world where those who serve and care for others are, themselves, also served and cared for.

As we walk together today, remember that we can build that world, step by step by step.

Amen & Blessed Be

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Prayers for Water Communion 2015

Lifted up at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Nashville on August 30th, 2015.

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In this sanctuary, and beyond its walls, are people who are trapped in a cycle of systemic racism, built on a legacy of slavery. They wonder, at the beginning of each day, how will they be disrespected, bullied, harmed, erased? How will they be treated as less than they are? They wish for others to listen to their stories, to acknowledge their suffering. They dream of a time when everyone will recognize that they matter… that they have always mattered.

In this sanctuary, and beyond its walls, are people grieving the loss of two journalists. They are remembering the hundreds of others also lost to gun violence just this year, and the thousands in years past. They are angry at leaders who express sorrow at these incidents and do nothing to change why they happen. They are bitter at how some who are lost are remembered better than others.

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people who have been taught that they are not worthy of love and respect because of how they look. They live through an onslaught of cultural and media messages that tell us who is too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too dark, too pale, too female, too distracting, too nonconforming… too disturbing. They deprecate themselves, and the next generation witnesses, and the distress continues on.

In this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people who feel stuck where they are. Some have jobs where they feel unfulfilled, or are mistreated by their co-workers, but they cannot afford to quit without risking access to food, shelter, and healthcare. Some want to go back to school, but don’t have the resources to avoid crippling debt. Some don’t have work at all, and spend every day wondering how to survive to the next.

At the same time, in this sanctuary and beyond its walls are people who are saying hello to new schools, new classrooms, new jobs, and new homes. They are immersed in excitement and anxiety. There are people who are saying goodbye, to their children, to their friends, to places, people, and things that have given them comfort and love.

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Prayer Written for CST Baccalaureate 2015

Precious Spirit of Life, of grace, of gathering. Loving Divinity of many names, many faces, many creeds, and of none at all. We seek the strength to defend and release those who are oppressed and marginalized. We seek the wisdom to foster healing and forgiveness. We seek the knowledge of how to use our gifts in ways that we may be worthy of them. We seek these things, knowing how much we have already been given, and we do so with faith in your abundance, and faith in what you have called us to do. We pray for guidance to always live lives of service to our communities, have integrity in our hearts and minds, and create joy whenever and wherever we can. In the name of all that is holy, and precious, and beloved, we pray. Amen and blessed be.

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The Fire of Commitment

CST Chapel Service, May 5th, 2015

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photo by Kimberly Edwards, used with permission
photo by Kimberly Edwards, used with permission

Call to Worship
We gather today under the streams of the Maypole, signifying the arrival of spring, the bonds of friends and family, and the jubilation of harvests to come.
To our altar,
We offer cream to celebrate the richness of divine, creative love
We offer cake to celebrate the sweetness of this beloved community
We offer whiskey to celebrate the fire of our commitment

Chalice Lighting (from Singing the Living Tradition)
We gather this hour as people of faith
With joys and sorrows, gifts and needs.
We light our chalice, this beacon of hope,
sign of our quest for truth and meaning,
in celebration of the life we share together

Scripture Reading: Song of Songs 2:10-13
My beloved spoke and said to me,
“Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.”

Beltane Reflection
The celebration of Beltane is about the waxing cycle of the year. It celebrates fertility, abundance, and recognition of the gifts given to us by the earth, by our loved ones, by our gods, that sustain us through the inevitable periods of waning. Today we are at a unique juxtaposition of Beltane, which asks us to focus on what can do moving forward, and the end of our community’s organizational year, wherein we are all focusing on what we have done in the past. Many of us are graduating, turning in the last of our assignments and preparing to catalog all we have learned for ordination and fellowshipping committees. We have faculty and staff retiring, closing a door on long, productive careers. Our school is getting ready to sleep as the rest of the world enters seasons of activity and creation.

As so many of our are leaving this beloved community — some for good, and some for just a season — how do we keep our fires for justice, love, and vocation alive? Beltane reminds us to look to those closest to us, our beloveds, to remind us of what is worth fighting for. Today is my anniversary. I will not be spending it with my husband, as I have class until late tonight. But my call to service, to religious leadership, is also his call. Instead of being upset at our separation on this special day, he surprised me with this cake on our altar. He baked it from scratch, with the help our two young children, to show his commitment to our life together. We kindle each other’s fires with our love, and hopefully we will pass along that example to our kids.

Again and again I have been moved by the love and abundance in this community over my three years here. I have questioned my call, and been brought back by fellow M.Div.s, who were able to see me in ways I could not on my own. I have witnessed profound hospitality, not just for each other, but for our pets as well. I read emails about grocery support for students’ families who are struggling to get enough food. For all of these things and more, I am ablaze with gratitude. Love is the source of my fire of commitment, and there is no time of year that celebrates love more than Beltane. Love is the source of growth and renewal, of healing, of grace. Love is forgiveness, and inclusion, and the one true act of creation. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, we are made real when we are loved. Our missions, our visions, our change, manifest only when we love the hell out of this world. Take that with you today, for the waning times.

So mote it be.

Prayer
Please join me in the spirit of prayer, with words adapted from Jackson Browne’s “For a Dancer”:
Keep a fire for the human race
And let your prayers go drifting into space
You never know will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near
And just as easily, it could all disappear
Along with whatever meaning you might have found
Don’t let the uncertainty turn you around
(The world keeps turning around and around)
Go on and make a joyful sound
Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
Will you choose to let it show?

Passing of the Chalice
For UUs, the flaming chalice symbolizes many things — service, justice, community, the search for truth and meaning — any list with an ending would be incomplete. As I and the other graduates leave this place, we pass the responsibility of its caretaking to you and the continuing students. May you all keep it safe, and strong, and vibrant. May you hold it with loving hands and hearts for those who will come after you. Blessed be.

Benediction
Please stand and join hands for our benediction from Unitarian minister Theodore Parker:
Be ours a religion which, like sunshine, goes everywhere;
its temple, all space;
its shrine, the good heart;
its creed, all truth;
its ritual, works of love;
its profession of faith, divine living.

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