“Commitment”

            I’ve appreciated numerous conversations with parishioners over the years who have expressed in their own unique way the difficulty of being “committed to non-commitment.” Given the dramatic openness and freedom of our faith tradition, our churches don’t require that you stick to any one path or perspective, and for me that is a great gift and attribute of our tradition. But I see the temptation to make “freedom” and “openness” objects of worship unto themselves in a way that can make someone feel stagnant and like they have nowhere else to go. The opposite can also be true. I’ve spoken with people who crave more structure, and want to know some boundaries that can guide them on their spiritual journey. It may be tempting to point such a person toward our principles, but even these can be interpreted in innumerable ways.

            There is a great line in Carolyn McDade’s hymn “Spirit of Life”: “Roots hold me close, wings set me free.” I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. McDade, and she told me in her Irish lilt that the entire song came to her in a dream, and all she had to do was wake up and write it down. The hymn definitely contains a powerful inspiration.

            I think the tension between rootedness and freedom is where we discover our truest commitments. The beautiful thing about our faith is that the experience and definition of rootedness and freedom is personal, fraught in its own unique ways, and full of intimate and life changing possibilities.

            For me, the starting place seems to be faith of some kind. I don’t mean faith in the traditional religious sense or faith in a prescribed way. I mean faith that is much wider, deeper, and arguably more risky. It’s the faith that our lives as they are a personal revelation of the holy, a personal revelation of what is true and beautiful and ultimately worthwhile, a personal revelation of the spirit of love at work in our circumstances. Finding this without a clear road map seems to be our Unitarian Universalist way. I don’t think I could have discovered this for myself any other way, though it’s been hard at times.

            There seems to be a consistent character of those who choose this way, which is really not a way exactly, but an openness toward finding the way. The character of stubbornness, married to daring, and mixed with a healthy amount of wonder seems to be all the ingredients needed to discover the depth and breadth of our lives, coming to realize there is no end to this discovery.

            It seems to be the primary commitment to create such an environment for each of us to embark on and appreciate this discovery for ourselves. To do this requires a tension of rootedness and freedom, a rootedness to our ancestors and traditions, and the freedom to question, doubt, and discover anew a language and life of reverence. We discover that our life as it is already part of “the way,” and we learn a new appreciation of this. This discovery in turn ignites the flame of conscience and motivates action toward helping others discover the innate beauty and mystery of their own life. We experience unity expressed through difference, and we become more humble, and more predisposed to kindness.

            I am very grateful I have remained committed to this pilgrimage with all of you, a pilgrimage of the heart that leads in time back to itself. It has been the joy of my life, and I sincerely wish this joy for you found in our shared commitment to this faith.