Childhood Faith- Part VI

I.

It took me years before I had any sort of clout within the church community. To most, I was this novelty--this kid. I spent close to four years as the only regular attendee under the age of thirty. Of the attendees under thirty, they numbered around five at best. As good UUs, they came as they saw fit, or not at all.

A discussion arose. We must build a new building.

I was opposed to it from the beginning. This was in no small part due to the egos I knew would be involved in the endeavor. I tacitly understood that every benevolent gestures would directly coincide neatly with surnames being attached to alcoves, park benches, and memorial gardens. Three or four families felt as though they owned the church, and they metaphorically stroked their goatees meaningfully as they pondered how to pull it off.

And while it was true that RE space was minimal, I had a certain fondness for the building. It was tiny, but it was ours. Furthermore, it was paid for.

But we needed a building. That became some rallying cry. New building, new building, new building.

And how to pay for this new building?

No proposals.

II.

Naturally, provided enough rationalizations, people get behind a cause. Five minutes of each service were deliberately set aside to show the progress made. It came maddeningly slow. I continued my opposition, but I was merely a minority stockholder in the decision. I had no say. I had no clout. I had not given money nor was able to. And that, my friends, it what it all comes down to.

So when the vote came down, finally, new building passed. The yeas had it in a landslide. To my credit, I was one of four dissenting votes. But it was hollow consolation. I found later that three of the no votes had been cast by members old enough to be my grandparents. As of today, one is dead. Another lives with a sense of inner calm. A third has regrettably passed into senility.

III.

Our long time minister, maternal, beloved, non-confrontational, and blessed with an openly lesbian daughter took the opportunity to leave. She and I had always been close. I took the news hard. But it was clearly her time to leave. Soon it would be mine.

IV.

A church that had spent twenty years or more fast asleep was in for a rude awakening. A church whose practices resembled Byzantium rather than Birmingham would find itself called out, probably for the first time in years. And for the first time, we had a minister who not only pointed out the elephant in the room, but held the mirror reflection in front of all who chose to see it.

Among the membership, this was not a popular move, but what is popular is not always right and what is right is not always popular. We had the minister we needed.

For the first time, visitors were acknowledged in the order of service as well as in the newsletter. For the first time, the circle of lights was not hijacked by narcissistic two-bit activists with their own private axe to grind. For the first time, this country club mentality perpetuated for so long was called into question.

V.

While I wish I could say that these problems were unique only to us, they are unfortunately endemic to all of Unitarian Universalism as a whole. The small churches, particularly, are the worst offenders but all are guilty to some respect.

VI.

A handful of bloggers, ministers, and laypeople have identified problems within our faith tradition for years. This will be a tough challenge. A faith based on largely abstract principles and concepts is clearly not going to grow. It will at best remain a zero sum game, losing as much as it gains. It resembles Purgatory more than Heaven or Hell.

And maybe this is all we can expect.

No one can be saved unless they want to be saved. I have learned this the hard way.