It was nine o’clock by the time we checked into our hotel, so I gave up on any notion of attending the last activities at Ministry Days, the annual meeting of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association. In the morning, I walked the four blocks to the convention hotel in time for the opening worship service at Ministry Days. The service was fine, but marred both by the horrible acoustics and dreary aesthetics of the hotel ballroom (I never understood why they call it a “ballroom” when no one holds balls any more), and the uncomfortable chairs that always seem to plague hotel ballrooms.
I went for a long walk during our lunch break, and arrived back in time for the afternoon program. The program tracks included “Joy and Creativity,” “Rest Is Resistance,” “Organizing” (community organizing, not organizing your job better), and identity caucuses. None of these seemed like a good match for my professional development needs, so I sat outside the meeting rooms and waited to see if I’d wind up in an interesting conversation. Sure enough, Jay Atkinson sat down and started to tell me about a research project he’s working on. Our Unitarian Universalist leaders, said Jay, often talk about “our theology” as that which unified Unitarian Universalism. But what is that theology? Do we even have a distinctive Unitarian Universalist theology? I especially liked the distinction between “scholarly theology” and “vulgar theology.” Jay told me the name of the scholarly theologian who coined those terms, a name which I promptly forgot, but it’s a useful distinction, analogous to the distinction that sociologists make between “lived religion,” the religion of ordinary people, as opposed to the religion of elite practitioners.
Carol and I had dinner with Ms. M and Roger. Fortunately the restaurant wasn’t crowded, because we were there for two hours catching up with what was going on in each other’s lives.
This morning, I went back to the convention center hotel for the opening worship at Ministry Days. But I just wasn’t in the mood for sitting in a dreary hotel ballroom with a few hundred other people, passively consuming the excellent music, the dance performance, and the spoken word. I ducked out and now I’m headed up to the Walters Art Museum to meet Carol.