Founder’s Day
A sermon preached for the congregation at Eliot Unitarian Chapel
in St. Louis, MO by the Rev. Dr. Daniel Ó Connell on October 7, 2007
Welcome to Founder’s Day. What does this mean? Well, let's check the dictionary: to “founder” means to “sink below the water: The ship struck a reef and foundered. To cave in; sink: The platform swayed and then foundered. To fail utterly; collapse: a marriage that soon foundered. No, wait a minute, that can’t be it.
There is a class of words: found, create, establish, institute, organize. Yes, now we are getting somewhere.
Today we reap the fruits of what our spiritual forebearers have sown over the years. We celebrate the fact that 48 years ago, some folks who lived west of the downtown Unitarian church declared independence and formed this congregation.
That's a pretty big accomplishment all by itself. But within 5 years, they called the Reverend Webster Kitchell, bought a small stone chapel, built a larger religious education wing, started a nursery school, and acquired the Bergfried property. A few years after that, they sold some land they'd been thinking of building on, and bought a lot next door.
In the intervening years, Reverend Kitchell left, Reverend Robinson was called, a fire hit hard, an Eliot religious educator became associate minister, and then a different associate minister, and– surprise!– yet again, more classrooms were added along with a kitchen and fellowship hall.
Here’s an interesting statistic: whenever there has been a renovation at Eliot Unitarian Chapel, there has been an expansion. Let me repeat that. In the history of Eliot, whenever there has been a renovation there has always been an expansion.
Sometimes, when I need a break from the desk and the phone, I wander around the building. A while back, I noticed something I’d missed before. If you walk through the breezeway that connects the red door foyer with the old education wing, and if you look up at just the right spot, you can see a piece of clear plexiglas where part of the ceiling ought to be, and through the plexiglas– you can see some burned wood. Huh?
Someone set that up on purpose. As a reminder of the great fire that happened 30 years ago this year.
Apparently, the fire was on a Friday, and the Sunday service– according to our web site–
“was held on the steps of the church. To quote James Durbin in a presentation made at the Annual Congregational Dinner one month after the fire, ‘Eliot Chapel is not brick and mortar; it is people and what they do.’ The sanctuary was cleaned up for the next Sunday's service, which was Easter.”
So, if you look carefully around Eliot, you can see things. Often there is no explanation, but with some digging or by talking to the right people you can find out. For example, who is the Adams of Adams Hall?
Or I bet most of you have walked into this church from the parking lot out back. And to do that, you walk through a foyer, and before you can take a left to the Nursery School or a right into Adams’ Hall, if you stop right there and look up, you’ll see a large sculpture hanging from the ceiling. Who made it? What is it?
Joe Tanaka– a founding member of this church– designed an origami bird, that another Eliot member made out of steel, and to this day it hangs in the foyer.
If you look around Eliot Chapel, you can find short lists of names. Ordinary names? Maybe. Blanke, Dillon, Dick, Killebrew, Nutt, Tanaka, Williams, Waterston.
Here's another list: Durbin, Hunt, Lindquist, Steinberg, Dacy, Krull. Where do you suppose those lists came from? Who do you suppose those people are? Or were?
I'll tell you one thing– we're related to them. Spiritually, that is. Some of those folks are long gone, dead and buried, others have moved far away. One or two might even be in this room right now. Those people– those list of names I gave you– those people and many more unnamed left us something precious.
They– like us– were varied in their beliefs. But most of them called themselves Unitarian Universalists.
We have widows, singles, married folk. We have the sick and we have the healthy. We have straight people. We have gays & lesbians.
We try and welcome diversity. Of course, it can be difficult to be around people who may believe like you used to believe. And now you’ve moved on from that old belief, shouldn’t they? But diversity is our strength and a point of contention– both at the same time.
The problem comes when we have to decide whether people are more important than beliefs.
William Greenleaf Eliot waited longer than most to publicly come out against slavery. Many Unitarian families had slaves. Think about that for a moment.
When Eliot did preach abolition, some members left the congregation for good. People lost friends they’d had for a long time.
A few years later, when Eliot preached for union instead of seceding, and– as he feared– it split the congregation. Close friends, sometimes sons in the same family– joined different sides. A couple people said they would shoot Eliot if he talked to them on the street.
Taking a stand meant, the church attracted some people and angered others. Back in 1967, the congregation decided to sell some donated land near Ballas road in order to buy and raze a neighbor’s house to make room for our office tower. Some people left over that.
If you look way down deep into our web site, after digging through many links, you may find the story of the Eliot Pipe Organ.
About 13 years ago a wealthy member offered about $50,000 toward the purchase of a $100,000 pipe organ.
The board of trustees formed a committee but before the process could get very far, arguments broke out. People spoke about what an organ meant to them personally– what it meant in the pantheon of their individual beliefs– hardly anyone talked about whether or not it was good for the church as a whole- most of the talk was about personal reactions.
And then people who had known each other for years yelled at each other, said hurtful things. The offered gift was withdrawn.
Then, a series of forums were held to hold up a standard for more harmonious communications
Five years later, a pipe organ was being disposed of by Webster University, and someone suggested Eliot Chapel acquire it. The board of trustees eventually appointed an Organ Conflict Resolution Committee.
The free organ was taken apart and stored in a basement for a year while forums were held, surveys taken, and cardboard models of the organ were placed in various locations of the sanctuary.
After all opinions and concerns were aired and addressed, it was determined that the organ would be refinished and placed in the balcony for a trial period.
When revelation is ongoing and continuous, everything exists for a trial period. Did you know that organ up there is on wheels, it is mobile? So far, it is surviving the trial period. Next week, who knows?
I am told that a half dozen people– very active at the time– left over how they were treated. Nowadays, I like to think, the congregation is much more civil with one another. We have a Crucial Conversations team– a sort of conflict management group– who moderates our town hall and annual meetings. Eliot Chapel has evolved.
But whether you call an event political or whether you call it social action may largely depend on your individual perspective.
This Wednesday, October 11, is National Coming Out Day. It is supported by folks all over the world who support lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people.
On Wednesday, you are encouraged to wear identifying symbols, such as the pink triangle, the Greek letter lambda, and rainbows, in jewelry and on your clothing.
So, your spiritual homework this week– if you are brave, and if you support National Coming Out Day– you may wear something with a rainbow in it.
Some of you know that the St. Louis Chapter of PFLAG, or Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, is one of the oldest chapters in the country, and that it was founded 30 years ago in 1977 right here at Eliot Chapel. From http://www.pflagstl.org/
There is another part of our history– related to our support of gay and lesbian families that is not on the web site. Not yet, anyway.
On Saturday, March 27, 2004, at 3:00 o'clock in the afternoon, I conducted the wedding of Sally and Lesley, two women in their 50s who had been in a committed relationship for 15 years. They were willing to endure media scrutiny, despite the fact that in Missouri, you can still be kicked out of a bus, taxi, restaurant or even your apartment– just for being gay.
We invited the press into the balcony. There was a lone protestor couple across the street, but inside, the church was filled. Every TV station, a radio station, and the Post-Dispatch covered the event. Some of those people who came to Eliot for the first time for that wedding later joined as members.
Despite the fact that Unitarian and Universalist ministers had been conducting gay weddings in private for over 30 years, when it became public, all of a sudden, some people decided that was too much. Apparently, out of sight, out of mind.
For some folks, it was the last straw, and they resigned their membership at Eliot. Because of differences of belief– some people have joined, and others have left.
But it is important– every once in a while– to take a stand. Because if you won't take a stand, you can fall for anything. If you won't define yourself, and risk looking foolish, then you risk being insignificant in the larger picture.
It is easy to pretend that history is something other people or institutions do. You can allow yourself to not struggle, to squander what influence you may have, to take the safe road that everyone else may be telling you to take.
You can let history sweep you on by or– you can do your part– however small– to make history.
Whether it is, abolition, installing a pipe organ or gay marriage, UUs can have strong opinions. And those opinions can become more important than relationships.
For UUs who have left a previous religion to come here– you know the tension involved. For some UUs– to leave the faith means to leave behind friends and family. Usually because they shun you.
Howard Thurman said: “you have to know two things: where you are going, and who is going with you. And it is important not to get those in the wrong order.”
Seen from the other side, things look different. On our web site it says:
Preachers here have the task of presenting religion fearlessly, freely, and faithfully.
Hearers here have the responsibility of testing what they hear, not only with the critical mind, but also in the living of everyday life.
But sometimes, preachers are fearful, and sometimes hearers don’t want to hear.
Some people instead of debating or talking, just leave. If an issue is really important, you stay and work it out, you don't just leave, right? But, OTOH, there is the feeling of betrayal– did the church leave them? Or did they leave the church?
These are questions we must ask and answer for ourselves. So, it is all the more remarkable that some folks have stayed as members at Eliot Unitarian Chapel over many years, because frankly– there have been so many opportunities to leave. So many reasons to take things personally. So many changes that they did not ask for, so many opportunities to be hurt and walk away.
We can feel sad when we think about those we knew at Eliot who have left. I am sure there was some sadness for them when they left. Maybe some will come back some day.
But we can also feel glad thinking about those who have stayed– stayed to welcome us who were newcomers at one point. And we can feel glad about ourselves staying on to welcome and become friends with newcomers.
A Mr. Bill Eliot came to St. Louis 173 years ago to establish a Unitarian church on the banks of the Mississippi. Speaking about leaving refined and liberal New England for the rough and tumble cross roads of St Louis, he said, “...if I come, I come to remain, and to lay my ashes in the valley of the Mississippi.”
He helped found Washington University, Mary Instititue and a variety of Unitarian churches. He helped found the public school system here.
Our spiritual forebearers were each on their own personal religious journeys— as we are now— they took their time & talents & treasure to create the walls & floors & ceilings. They recruited teachers, they hosted Room At the Inn. They fed the hungry, housed the homeless, and stood tall and strong for the issues of their day.
They made these sacrifices for their own spiritual growth, for their own satisfaction, yes. But also to create something bigger than their own finite lives. To work to leave a legacy for current and future UUs— most of whom they would never know.
We too are founders. We are the founders of what the religious liberals of tomorrow will inherit. Our work now determines what we leave behind to our spiritual descendants.
For many of you, there was a day once. You were a stranger here. A newcomer. You didn't know if there would be anything here for you or not. You didn't know if this place would come to feel like home.
But you stuck it out, you explored, you showed up. You discovered here a spiritual home, a whole set of long lost religious relatives you didn’t even know existed, but secretly hoped was somewhere– and look– right here in Kirkwood. Isn’t that amazing?
When we were newcomers, we stood at the river bank and gauged whether or not we wanted to get in it. Now we who are members and friends of this church stand in that river. A river of history that began before Bill Eliot crossed the Big Muddy on a boat.
This is a river of history that we hope will flow on long after we have all passed on. 173 years ago Mr. Eliot got us started. 173 years from now we will all be as dead as Mr Eliot.
What spiritual legacy will we leave behind? What is our enduring gift to a liberal religious presence in our corner of the world?
How is it that we can help found rather than founder? What legacies will we create in the coming years? Who will we invite to the Welcome table?
Let us recognize those who have stayed with us for a little while. I would invite any founding members who are here this morning to rise, and to stay standing.
And now, if you’ve been associated with us for 40 years or more; 30 years or more; 20 years or more; 10 years or more; 5 years or more;1 year or more; joined in the last year; plan on joining today after the service or sometime soon? Just feel the need to stand and stretch?
Let us be thankful for one another. And now, let us all rise and sing: Fire of Commitment, #1028