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Ahoy! Let me teach you a little “pirate talk.” You know pirates say Aye, A-Y-E, to mean yes. So when a pirate wants to say yes, they often say: Aye, says I.

Are ye ready to set sail on the good ship Eliot this morning? Are ye ready to have a little pirate attitude? Aye, says I. Or should I say: Got Pirattitude?

It turns out the same people who bring you the Renaissance Faire are bringing you a pirate festival in Wentzville, an hour west of here. Rotary Park has been transformed into the island of Martinique this weekend and next, and includes pirate music and entertainment, food and crafts and a children's treasure hunt in the sand. The festival features about 30 performers from around the country.

The cast portrays historical pirates and their crews, such as Blackbeard, Bart Roberts... and Grace O'Malley, who was considered an Irish pirate queen in the 1500s. "She led an interesting life. She was basically in charge of both the men and women (in her crew)."

Hmm. Imagine that. It was only 300 years later that women were allowed to become ministers.

The festival runs this weekend & next: 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. You can check out stlpiratefest.com or look in the online version of the Post-Dispatch.

Avast, me hearties! Shiver me timbers! Arrrrrrr! Talk Like a Pirate Day is coming up this Tuesday, September 19.

If you’re not familiar with this international holiday, you’ve obviously been spending too much time doing good and important things. But if you are in the habit of wasting time surfing the Internet, maybe you stumbled across this.

It’s a day devoted to talking like a pirate. Just for kicks. Because it’s funny. Because you can. Just be careful not to go too far and call a close friend a “scurvy bilge rat.” She might not be amused.

Talk Like a Pirate Day was invented by a couple of guys — no surprise there. They picked September 19 because it was not cluttered up with Christmas or the Super Bowl or any other important event.

For years, the two of them celebrated the day in private, just talking like pirates to each other, but then humorist Dave Barry caught word of the holiday and wrote a column about it. He thought the idea was so original and revolutionary that surely the creators of the day needed to be on medication.

Dave Barry ended up inviting all of his readers to join the movement and celebrate the holiday. On September 19, don’t answer the phone with “Hello.” Instead, answer the phone with “Ahoy, me hearty!” If the caller protests, saying that he is not a hearty, call him a scurvy dog who will soon be walking the plank and ending up in Davy Jones’ locker.

See what fun you can have! Baur, John, and Summers, Mark. “Talk like a pirate day — September 19.” Talk Like A Pirate Day Web Site. talklikeapirate.com.

So, when you dress for the office on Tuesday, you can pick outfits with a lot of red and black, and don’t be afraid to accessorize with shiny metallic accents — maybe even a good skull and crossbones.

If you feel you have a boring first name, put an adjective or descriptive phrase in front of it. If you have always been Rufus, for example, on Tuesday you can be Bloody Red Rufus or Mad Dog Rufus. Try this at job interviews. You’ll get results!

Given that Talk Like a Pirate Day is just around the corner, it is fitting that we look at religious texts about speech. “Look at ships,” says the book of James, “though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits” (James 3:4-5).

The tongue is a small but powerful instrument, able to have an effect that is every bit as influential as the rudder on a pirate ship. Think of the power of words you have heard, or that you have spoken, over the course of your life.

“You are too small to be a good basketball player,” says a youth league coach.

“Girls should steer clear of science and engineering,” advises a parent or teacher.

“You can’t be a Unitarian and believe that!” scolds a church member.

“You are such a loser,” says a cool kid in the high-school cafeteria.

“Don’t tell your parents,” warns an abusive uncle; “no one will believe you.”

James knows the devastating power of words, which is why he says, “How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire” (3:5-6). He knows that the tongue can be used to discourage, derail, dismay, deceive and destroy people, and he describes it as “a restless evil, full of deadly poison” (3:8).

How do we tame the tongue?

The challenge for us is to Talk Like a UU, not Talk Like a Pirate. This means that we do not use our tongues to bless one another one minute, and then curse those who believe differently the next.

What does it mean for us to Talk Like a UU— not just on one day in September, but throughout the year?

It’s really very easy to talk like a pirate, since all you need to do is pepper your speech with “Ahoy!” “Avast!” “Aye!” and “Arrr!”

But faithful speech requires more than the proper vocabulary, more than a specialized knowledge of grog, hornpipes, timbers and yardarms.

To talk like a UU, we speak to other people with full awareness of their inherent worth and dignity, full awareness that they too, are a strand in the interdependent web of all existence.

This means that we see them not as scurvy bilge rats, but as men and women who have the Spirit of Life in them, too. We miss an important aspect of their existence when we overlook this quality. Of course this is hard to remember when they cut you off in traffic.

Here’s another way to think about it.

At the beginning of the Hebrew book of Genesis, you see that the word of the Almighty Creator is creative — not destructive. God says, “Let there be light” … and there is light.

God says, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures” … and there are all kinds of fish, large and small.

God says, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind” … and there are cattle and creeping things and all types of wild animals (Genesis 1:3, 20, 24). It’s clear that all of these words are designed to be creative, to bring order out of chaos, and to make something good.

Can the same be said of our words? Before I open my mouth to speak, I would be wise to apply the “Genesis Test” to what I am about to say. Is it creative? Does it bring order out of chaos? Does it make something good? If not, maybe it’s better to be silent.

I had an opportunity this week to give someone some unsolicited criticism. I was struggling with the desire to be silent and the desire to speak out. I was out of my element, and it felt very uncomfortable.

I am in a class at a community college. And one girl in this small class– how can I put this? She acts as if she were adjunct faculty. She's always chiming in, filling in, adding to what the teacher is telling us. She is appears to be trying to be helpful but it gets to be annoying.

After a couple weeks, whenever this girl made one of her frequent comments, people would roll their eyes, scratch their nose, look around. I began to hear in the hallway, dark muttering: someone was going have to go speak to her.

And I thought, some of these kids are barely out of high school. All the gossip, all the intrigue– not at all like church, right?

And, for some reason– which still escapes me– I decided that the person should be me. So last week, I saw her sitting by her self before class started in the hallway. And I went up to her, and I put it as gently as I could.

I told her that I was telling her this, because I was concerned that she didn't know what was going on. And so, may be somebody would really get ticked off and lay into her: make a mean, cutting remark in class & really embarrass her.

She took it very well, she thanked me for bringing it to her attention. And later on in the class, she seemed just fine.

But I have to tell you, for some reason, I was pretty nervous delivering the news. Who was I to be the messenger? Couldn't other people speak for themselves? Why didn't the teacher step in? On whose authority did I speak?

These are questions all who would speak prophetically must ask. When do you ignore a racist remark, and when do you reply? And what do you reply?

Sometimes, the really important things are Very. Difficult. To say. The temptation may be to revert to some sort of lingo, shorthand, pirate talk– something that hints, but that doesn't get at the core kernel of Truth, the heart of the matter, the way that real, direct speech does.

Talking about what really matters in a tone and with a demeanor that lets the other person know, really know, that this is important to you, is something that may bring a little heat to your skin, a little anxiety.

Because when you are talking to someone about something that really matters– you are making yourself vulnerable, and it is so much easier to get hurt when you are vulnerable than when your armor is up, your pirate clothes are on, your wit & repartee skills are at the ready.

I think people talk about their religion this way. Perfectly ordinary people– from junior college through the middle age– people who might tell you about their sexual orientation or family troubles or their political opinion, those same people may hesitate to discuss their religious views except in a very generalized way.

Why? Would we hesitate to discuss our religious viewpoint? Because (1) we may not have stopped to figure them out; (2) we may have a vague understanding, but feel incompetent at describing it; and (3) to speak of the framework of the bare ground of meaning of our life, the universe and everything is about as big and scary a topic as we can converse about. Especially, especially if we are not joking, if we are as serious as life and death.

Sometimes we may be accused of being theological pirates. And that image may feel too close to home. Or it may be appealing.

For example, we say that we use many Scriptures, not a single Scripture. We might fancy ourselves independent and free, free to sail the seas of the world's religions. Free to pick & choose & copy and paste from various scriptures. And thus, we create our own religion. One that is unique to us as individuals

And Unitarian Universalists do not make definitive for everyone those things known only through faith to individuals. So in UU-ism, it's perfectly fine for people who are sitting next to each other to have diametrically opposed beliefs about the afterlife, about the parentage of Jesus, and so forth.

And yet, we are, after all, Pirates on the same ship. So what does that mean? It means that in spite of particular individual beliefs, there are some things that we all – or at least the majority of us – affirm and promote.

An orthodox person who asks the question, "what do you believe" probably assumes that what you as an individual believes is indistinguishable from what every other UU believes, because that is their religious assumption. And often, they want to know what UU-ism is all about because most people have never heard of Unitarian Universalism.

Many years ago in Chicago– I was a hospital chaplain. It was part of my training to become a UU minister. One night, I was returning from the intensive care unit. And a nurse saw me go by, saw the chalice I was wearing around my neck, and she stopped me for conversation.

She said something about how she liked my cross, and she got closer to me, and leaned in, and said: that's a funny sort of cross. Where did you get it?

And I replied that it wasn't a cross. And she became suspicious immediately, and backed up a step. And I explained the symbolism of the chalice and a sentence about Unitarian Universalism, and her nose crinkled up even more. "Is it Christian?" She asked. Meaning the UU religion.

And I noticed that she was wearing a rather large wooden cross around her neck. And I wondered if I would be having these kinds of conversations for the rest of my life as a minister.

And I wondered how anybody who hadn't been to seminary could even begin to talk about Unitarian Universalism to well meaning strangers, much less at 2 o'clock in the morning with a suspicious, fundamentalist nurse.

It would have been easier to say: oh sure. Or: Um, nope, See you later, bye! And while I suppose you are allowed to do that, what kind of minister won't explain his own faith?

And so I have struggled with this and have made some progress, but will undoubtedly continue to struggle, because– how do you summarize your most deeply held, important beliefs in a way that does not trivialize them? [Pause].

Some of my colleagues claim UUs don't share any beliefs. But to me, that's not good enough.

It occurred to me that you could simply survey UUs and find out what religious beliefs they had in common, right? And if you could do that, then you could make some guesses as to what those beliefs might be, and then test them out. And for the last 15 years or so, that's just what I've done.

In your order of service, there are some things that I have outlined as uniquely Unitarian Universalist. And there's another section below that talking about what we share with other religious liberals.

I have even attempted to make an anagram of the things that are uniquely Unitarian Universalist, as it helps me remember them a little bit.

So you can make your own decision about whether to Talk Like a Pirate this Tuesday. It’s all in good fun, it’s a way to feel bold and daring— unless you slip up and call your spouse or boss a scalawag.

But if you Talk Like a UU, you’ll be setting sail on a most amazing adventure with like minded seafarers on your blue boat home.

This we believe: that we can make a difference, in our own lives and in the lives of our family, neighborhood, and nation.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

Amen.