Summer time

On Memorial Day weekend, we still had the comforter out. A week and a half ago, we were sleeping under blankets. Not any more. Summer is here. Other signs of summer:

  • Robins are molting. Robins are spring breeders who don’t start their molt until their young have fledged (raising young and molting at the same time would be just too stressful). Yesterday, I saw a Robin who had molted the first two tail feathers.
  • Chiggers are out. On Sunday, one bit me. Fortunately, only one managed to bite me.
  • The humidity is back.
  • We leave the ceiling fans going pretty much all day and all night. (We’re too cheap to turn on the A/C.)
  • The people who live to the northwest of us have opened up their pool. We know this because sometimes they leave their very loud pool pump going night and day for days at a time.

But the real sign of summer for me is days that go on forever, and short nights that bring memories of past midsummers, memories which stretch back before I can remember. The world pauses for a moment at this apex of the year, and I find that I can’t sleep deeply, or for long.

A propos of nothing…

Have you ever noticed how many names of philosophers and theologians sound like someone choking or coughing?

  • Kierkegaard (someone choking on a fish bone)
  • Schleiermacher (someone coughing to clear their throat prior to speaking)
  • Hegel (one of those deep, wheezing coughs you get with bronchitis)
  • Kant (repeated, someone choking on crackers: “Kant… Kant… Kant!…”)
  • Nietzsche (sounds like a baby choking on baby food; so does “Niebuhr”)
  • Tillich (a sip of water going down the wrong way)
  • Cox (kind of like a death rattle)
  • Hartshorne (what the Robitussin people call “an unproductive cough”)

    • I could go on. But I will spare you.

Bridging ceremony

Yesterday, we had a bridging ceremony here at the Unitarian Universalist Society of Geneva, for all those young people who are finishing up with high school this year. For those of you from UUSG who couldn’t be there (and for those readers who live far away), I thought I’d put the text of the ceremony up on my blog. If you don’t know what a bridging ceremony is, it’s explained below, in the text of the ceremony.

I’ve appended a few comments at the end of the ceremony, as well….

============

Bridging Ceremony

UU Society of Geneva, June 4, 2005, 9:00 a.m.

Each year, a few young people from this church end their time in high school. Usually after they are through with high school, they head off to find a job, to join the military, or to attend college or further education. And most often that means that these young people move out of town, or have busy schedules that don’t permit them to come to church as often.

I believe our young people enrich the life of this church immeasurably. They bring their own perspective to church life, they bring their own talents and enthusiasms. Sometimes, they can help to challenge the assumptions of older generations, and that can inject new energy and life into this church. So when the end of high school requires some young people to move on, it’s a real loss to the congregation.

But it’s also a time of excitement. We are so pleased that these young adults are entering a new phase of life! They may not be around as much as in the past, but we want them to know that we will always be glad to see them here, and that we hope they continue to be a part of this church. We want them to know, too, that we will support them as they make the big transition away from high school and into something new — we will support them in their dreams, and their emerging new lives.

This is our chance to recognize these people in what has become known as a “Bridging Ceremony,” bridging the gap between youth and adulthood. And I’m glad the children are here to see this ceremony this morning — some day you, too, will finish up with high school, and will have your own bridging ceremony, and I want you to look forward to that.

To start the bridging ceremony, I’d like to ask anyone who, like Lindsay [Bates, senior minister at UUSG] and me, spent part or all of their growing-up years in a Unitarian, Universalist, or Unitarian Universalist church, to join us up here at the pulpit.

Next, I’d like to ask everyone who is still in high school, and those adults who have served as youth advisors, to come stand up here in front of the pulpit.

Now I’m going to read the names of those people we know of who will be ending their time in high school and moving on to new things. When I read your name, please join us up here at the pulpit….

[names omitted for privacy]

[minister turns to face those who are bridging]

Welcome to each one of you! We welcome you into the community of adult Unitarian Universalists.

Those of us standing here at the pulpit also grew up as Unitarian Universalists, and we have either stayed, or we have come back. It can be done! We hope you, too, decide to remain a Unitarian Unviersalist. Know that you will be welcomed into other Unitarian Universalist congregations, as many of us were — and if you aren’t welcomed in, you can do what some of us did and demand to be welcomed in!. Know that you will always be welcome here in this church — come back and visit, or best of all remain here as members.

[minister turns to face the rest of the congregation]

And I deliver this charge to all the adults in this church: whenever you meet a young adult who grew up in a Unitarian Universalist church, you have the privilege and the responsibility to welcome them here to this church — just as other Unitarian Universalist congregations will have the privilege (and responsibility) to welcome some of our young people into their congregations.

One last word to you who are bridging this year. As you know, I’m headed off this year to a new church in New Bedford, Massachusetts. If you ever find yourself in New Bedford, Massachusetts, stop in at the Unitarian Universalist church there, and I can promise you will be welcomed there!

============

Comments about the ceremony: (1) The bridging ceremony took place as part of the intergenerational flower service. (2) Lindsay and I gave each person bridging a copy of the book, “With Purpose and Principle,” telling them that way they’d have a reference guide whenever anyone asked them, “So you’re a Unitarian Universalist — what does that mean?” (3) After the worship service, someone who is a twenty-something remarked that the comment about demanding to be wlecomed was appreciated — this person’s experience in two UU congregations was that young adults did have to demand to be welcomed, adding, “I haven’t given up yet on UUism, but sometimes it is frustrating.” (4) Our small sanctuary does not allow the elaborate staging of the bridging ceremony at General Assembly, but that didn’t really matter.

Millenium Park in Chicago

We were coming back from the Seminary Coop Bookstore’s annual members-only sale last night. Eco-freaks that we are, we took the train to Hyde Park rather than drive. So when we got off the South Shore electric line at Randolph Street Station with half an hour to spare before catching the train out to Geneva, Carol said, “Let’s go look at Millenium Park.”

I had heard a good deal about the Pritzker Pavillion, the stage designed by Frank Gehry, and I had seen it from a distance, but I had not walked through it. In a word, it was disappointing. The curvy stainless steel proscenium arch around the stage was typical Frank Gehry, except more banal than usual. At first it looks wild and new, but pretty soon you realize he’s using a centuries old architectural vocabulary. Basically it is just a proscenium arch that’s not much different from Baroque arches — except in stainless steel, and without the rich detailing of Baroque architecture. After a few minutes, I started laughing sadly at it because it has such an unfortunate resemblance to the hair styles of late-career Elvis — the bloated, sweating, drug-hypnotized Elvis. And after a few more minutes, I began to see the lack of attention to details, which made it look like one of those Western store fronts that looks really big from the front, but which turns out to be a sad, tiny building from the back.

Worse is the trellis of stainless steel pipes over the lawn seating area. Designed to support loudspeakers, the trellis has the unfortunate side effect of making you feel as if you are in a cave. One of the reasons Chicago is such an extraordinary city, architectually speaking, is that buildings in the Loop soar to the sky, taking your spirit with them — it’s the opposite of a cathedral where your spirit soars only to be stopped by a roof, because in Chicago it’s the open sky over your head. But Gehry’s trellis stops that feeling of soaring dead. The trellis hovers oppressively over you, controlling your spirit and channeling it the same way a closed shopping mall does.

Next we walked over BP Bridge, also designed by Gehry. The bridge is almost quite nice — almost. The problem is, Gehry tries to be sculptural, but can’t quite pull it off. The bridge looks kind of cool from a distance, but when you get closer you see there are dead spots in the curves of the bridge, places where the curves are interrupted by an unintentional flat spot, or where the curves don’t quite flow right. Other details of the bridge are badly done, too. (Maybe the architect did not adequately oversee the building contractor?) It’s covered with what looks like stainless steel shingles on the outside, but as you walk across it the walls lining the walkway are dead flat — which is incongruous at best, confusing at worst. And ultimately, the massing of the bridge just curves around and doesn’t say much of anything.

The worst thing about Gehry’s contributions to Millenium Park is that they seem to completely ignore the incredible wealth of architecture to their west, and the glorious natural beauties of the lakeshore to their east. There is no sense of place, no sense that you are in CHICAGO! — instead, you could be in any generic city center or shopping mall from Bahrain to L.A.

Who reads the Slime, anyway?

Mr. Crankypants here, sneaking onto the blog while my stupid alter ego, Dan, is away at some inane church event.

Mr. Crankypants would like to know what’s up with the New York Times? While the Chicago Tribune gave front page coverage to the exhumation of Emmet Till on Wednesday, the New York Times (or the New York Slime as Mr. Crankypants likes to call it) buried the story deep in the first section of the paper — and put it below the fold, no less. And their coverage continues to be less than satisfactory.

What — the editors at the New York Slime think only white people read their paper? — and do the editors really think only black people care about the Emmet Till story? Don’t they realize that the Emmet Till case is one of the biggest unresolved moral narratives of our times, impacting all our lives?

Silly Mr. Crankypants. Of course they realize all that. Of course they’re not aiming their newspaper at upper middle class white people! No, no, no. It’s just that the Emmet Till story is taking place in the Midwest, near Chicago, of all godforsaken places — which means it doesn’t matter on the East Coast. Moral, schmoral — it’s the Midw–

— oops, the alter ego must be back, his key is turning in the lock — don’t want to get into an argument at the moment — gotta run —

Celebrity Scientology

Yesterday’s New York Times reported that Tom Cruise has been “raising eyebrows” with his recent behavior — said behavior including his active promotion of Scientology. Supposedly, movie studio executives had to endure a four-hour promotion of Scientology in order to be able to talk contracts with the star. And Cruise was allowed to have a tent promoting Scientology on the set of his most recent movie, “War of the Worlds,” even though no one else was allowed to promote their religions on the set.

But the Times missed the juiciest bit about Cruise’s recent promotion of Scientology, a new religious movement founded by science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard. The Times noted that Cruise has publicly criticized actress Brooke Shields for taking anti-depressants to help her with post-partum depression. But we had to turn to yesterday’s Chicago Tribune for the direct quotes, and Ms. Shields’s response.

In a conversation with Access Hollywood, Cruise said Shields was “irresponsible” for taking meds to help with her depression, saying, “When someone says it has helped them, it is to cope. It didn’t cure anything. There is no science. There is nothing that can cure them whatsoever.” No, says Cruise (who must believe he’s some kind of expert on the subject), women should use exercise and vitamins to cure postpartum depression — and presumably, though this was left unsaid, he was hinting that Shields would have been best to join a local Church of Scientology.

The Tribune quotes Shield’s response from a recent issue of People magazine: “Tom should stick to saving the world from aliens and let women who are experiencing postpartum depression decide what treatment options are best for them.”

Ms. Shields was perhaps snarkier than she needed to be. I’d put it this way. Good manners dictates that Cruise may try to convince other people in private to give up modern medical science in favor of his religious alternative, but he may not go around making snide remarks in public about people who choose to follow other paths. Religious tolerance in our society depends on such good manners. I hope Tom Cruise learns some good manners, and learns that religious tolerance requires each of us to maintain good manners in public at all times.

Robert Creeley

I was saddened to learn that poet Robert Creeley died on March 30. Guardian Unlimited carried a nice online appreciation of Creeley’s life and work. Link

How often it seems that we learn more about people after they die than we knew when they were alive. I had read and admired Creeley’s poetry for years, but until I read the obituaries, I didn’t know that he grew up not far from where I grew up — he was born in Arlington, Massachusetts, and spent much of his childhood in West Acton, quite close to Concord where I grew up. And two of his influences were Ezra Pound and William Carlos Williams — I spent a lot of time reading Pound in my late teens, and I still love Williams. So I suppose it’s no wonder I have enjoyed Creeley.

Maybe more than enjoyed Creeley. I’m convinced that poetry grows out of the place the poet is from. Creeley was a New Englander from his birth in 1926 until 1951 — New England was bred in his bones. His poetry flowered elsewhere: Black Mountain, New Mexico, Bolinas, New York state. Like so many other New Englanders, he had to get out of New England, travel widely, in order to write. Maybe it was the Pacific ocean, and the Mediterranean, that really allowed him to write what he wrote.

Creeley wrote in his poem Here:

What
has happened
makes
the world.

That’s what Creeley says. I’d say that you don’t have a place until you have a poet writing poems about it.

You can find some of Creeley’s poems online at the Robert Creeley home page. Link

Respecting the Koran?

The International Herald Tribune for June 1 carries a fascinating opinion piece by Aijaz Zaka Syed, titled “The West’s Contempt for Religion.” Link (And no, I’m not creating a link to something printed tomorrow, it’s already tomorrow in Parish where the Herald-Trib is published.)

Syed contends that the West has developed a general contempt for religion due to the excesses of Western Christianity:

The church’s excessive control over its flock during the oppressive centuries leading up to the European Renaissance (remember the Spanish Inquisition? Or how the church persecuted Galileo Galilei for his scientific beliefs?) and its unreasonable opposition to all scientific inquiry and quest for knowledge generated a popular backlash. As a result, much of Western society banished the church forever from its life and day-to-day existence. More important, this hopeless conflict left a deep distrust and contempt for all religions in the Western mind that remains far from shaken.

Because of that contempt, Syed says that religion in the West has become something that is restricted to the individual, or at most to within the four walls of a church.

I’d like to think that I can understand religion as a matter of personal experience and conviction (in fact, that’s part of my religious system), yet it can still be something I take very seriously, and not treat with contempt. Yet Syed has a good point — Westerners do have a tendency to either condemn religion, or slide into fundamentalism. It would be nice to find a middle ground of respect.

In the mean time, Syed ends by saying:

Whatever Washington’s explanation [for the Koran desecration incident], this is certainly no way to win the battle for Muslim hearts and minds. If this is what President George W. Bush had in mind when he promised ‘human liberty and democracy’ to the people in Muslim lands, the Islamic world would be better off without America’s gifts. Thanks but no thanks.

Nor will Americans win any global friends by taking the condescending attitude that all religions are bosh, and worthy only of contempt. Sorry, my anti-religious friends, but an American superiority complex can take many forms.

Ending the church year — or not

The end of the church year is coming up, and we’re all getting ready for summer, when things slow down. But I wish our liberal churches never slowed down, and I also I predict that within a few years, the most successful Unitarian Universalist churches will no longer take a break in summer.

In fact, I believe worship attendance patterns are already changing, and we ignore this change at our peril. This past weekend was Memorial Day weekend. On Memorial Day weekend last year less than a hundred people showed up, so even though this year we’ve been averaging well over 200 men, women, and children at church each weekend, we expected a light turnout for Memorial Day.

Our expectations were wrong. In spite of the beautiful sunny weather, we totaled over 160 people at worship, including the usual half a dozen newcomers visiting us for the first time. Fortunately, even though we didn’t expect that many people, we were prepared just in case that many people did show up. The senior minister was preaching, and we had a full church school program ready. I’ll bet this church may pick up two or three of the newcomers who visited this weekend, just because we were prepared.

It’s also clear that it’s especially important to have regular worship services, with your regular ministers(s), beginning in mid-August. Why? Because that’s when newcomers are most likely to check out your church, and they need to see what your worship services and church school will be like the rest of the year. If there’s no place for children to go (except child care), and if the worship service features well-meaning but inexperienced worship leaders, the huge number of newcomers that comes in August will never return. In fact, there is no longer a “slow time” — churches have to be at their best all year round.

I now believe that one of the forces that’s holding back liberal religion is our habit of closing down in the summer time. Not to be too cynical, but if church is so unimportant that you don’t need it in the summer or on holidays, why bother coming the rest of the year?

I want to be a part of a congregation that believes every week of the year is important. (And even if I can’t make it to worship, I’m not so selfish as to think that church schould shut down, just because I’m not there!)

What about you?