When to open

Since COVID, I’ve noticed a growing trend among Unitarian Universalist congregations — decisions about whether to close on a given Sunday. Here in New England, that often takes the form of deciding whether to open up when there’s a winter storm on Sunday morning. This has been especially noticeable because we’ve had a winter storm hit on each of the past Sundays.

Typically, three options are considered — (1) Have both an in-person service and a livestreaming option; (2) No in-person service, service available via livestream only; and (3) Cancel the service entirely. Congregations within a couple of miles of each other can wind up making different decisions based on their livestream capabilities vs. their in-person capabilities, as well as the needs and interests of their members and friends. There is no one correct answer. Yet although there is no one correct answer, canceling in-person services carries a significant risk.

Here’s how I explain that risk: Congregations are operating in an increasingly competitive market for people’s leisure time. We used to place based on the assumption that congregations were in competition with one another, e.g., the Unitarian Universalist congregation was in competition with the local Congregational church and Reform Jewish synagogue. But now our primary competition is with other leisure time activities. For many people, our primary value may not be religion and spirituality, but community and interpersonal contact. So here at First Parish in Cohasset, our most direct competition includes both the liberal UCC church across the street, and the local coffee shop a block away.

As it happens, I live above the local coffee shop. The past two Sundays, the coffee shop opened promptly at 7 a.m. as usual, regardless of the winter storms. Because I’ve noticed that the coffee shop is always open, I’m reluctant to cancel in-person services for a winter storm — if we do cancel, we’re essentially saying that we’re less important than a cup of coffee. At the same time, we offer livestreaming for anyone who’s still snowed in, or who feels physically unable to wade through snow and ice to get to services. (And maybe there’s a sense in which livestreaming allows us to out-compete the coffee shop.)

Yes, in-person attendance was low both weeks (on 2/9, 11 in person, 32 livestream log-ins; on 2/16, 20 in person, 20 livestream log-ins). Foot traffic at the coffee shop was also low, from what I could see. But First Parish wants to remain competitive with other leisure time activities, and that’s reason enough to stay open for both in-person and livestreaming during both winter storms. — Mind you, that’s me speaking as someone who’s worked in sales and marketing; I can totally understand why other congregations would think this strange.

Noted without comment

From “The American Taboo on Socialism” by Robert N. Bellah in The Broken Covenant: American Civil Religion in Time of Trial, 2nd Edition (Chicago: Univ. Chicago Press, 1992), chapter 5, pp. 112-138:

Another point of view

My friend Rabbi Michael is a member of the South Jersey Board of Rabbis and Cantors. They just issued a statement about the Trump administration’s proposal to turn Gaza into a luxury condo development. Not surprisingly, they oppose it on several reasonable grounds. But what I especially like is that they call out the Trump proposal as a kind of ethnic cleansing — something that they are adamantly opposed to. Here’s a PDF of their statement.

As politicians spin off into fantasy worlds, it’s nice to see how religious folk can help keep us grounded in reality. Theology has a bad name amongst the elite classes these days, but training in theology and philosophy includes both training in analyzing texts and discourse, and training in moral and ethical analysis. The latter training is especially important — and seems to be almost entirely lacking amongst the elite classes and the politicians these days.

Critiquing the concept of “White privilege”

I’ve long been uncomfortable with the concept of “White privilege,” mostly because I feel that the concept doesn’t really tell White people why they should give up their White privilege. I envision a conversation that goes something like this: “Hey, check your White privilege.” [reply spoken externally] “Oh, right, sorry!” … [reply spoken internally] ((Wow, I got White privilege? that sounds pretty good, I’m gonna hang on to it.))

That’s not a serious critique of the concept of White privilege. It’s just this feeling of discomfort that I have. Yet the feeling is strong enough that I find myself not wanting to use the phrase “White privilege,” due to some kind of nameless fear that it’s just going to reinforce the behavior in us White people that the phrase is supposed to put an end to.

In an essay titled “How ‘White Privilege’ Obscures Black Vulnerability,” Mukasa Mubirumusoke, a professor at Claremont McKenna College, provides a more serious critique of the shortcomings of the concept. Mubirumusoke ends his essay with this rhetorical question:

(Parenthetical note: The essay appears on the Public Seminar website, which I hadn’t seen before. Looks like a lot of good stuff there.)

But wait, there’s more. In a recent post on the American Philosophical Association blog, Lewis Gordon offers a constructive critique of Mubirumusoke’s critique. SCroll way down to find it, and (as I understand it) Gordon’s basic point is that Mubirumusoke’s critique is based on Afropessimism, an intellectual approach that Gordon finds unsatisfactory.

In the course of his longer discussion of Mubirumusoke, Gordon asks a question that may provide a better grounding for a critique of “White privilege”:

Gordon’s philosophically nuanced critique of Mubirumusoke takes the critique of “White privilege” to a whole other level. It’s a level above my pay grade, to be honest. But let’s be clear, Gordon is not some “anti-Woke” political conservative, like the ones who dominate U.S. politics these days. Trump and company cannot take comfort from this philosophical conversation. By the same token, political liberals who get uncomfortable when their White privilege is called out aren’t going to find much comfort in Gordon’s critique, either. Gordon even goes so far as to criticize that idol of liberalism, the individual:

Whoa. Take that, Ralph Waldo Emerson. Gordon is striking at the root of our theological commitment to “the individual.” Because — following Emerson — we Unitarian Universalists really do have this tendency to treat the self as a god. Which is idolatry. And we are fundamentally opposed to idolatry.

Well, as I say, all this is well above my pay grade. But I’d also say both these essays are worth reading. Every time I read Lewis Gordon, I find myself getting insight into problems that have been bothering me. And based on what Gordon says about Mubirumusoke, he might be another one of those thinkers….

Asian art scavenger hunt

On Sunday, Tracey and I are taking the Coming of Age class for First Parish in Cohasset and First Parish in Norwell into the Harvard University Art Museum.

The point of the trip is to look at Asian art that depictions deities and sacred objects. This gets interesting because Asian religious/cultural traditions have different understandings of divinity than Christianity (or the other two Abrahamic traditions).

For example — is Buddha a deity, or not? The answer: It depends. In some art works, Buddha appears very human; in other art works, Buddha appears more than human. (Similarly with Jain tirthankaras.) And what about Hindu deities? They are clearly gods, but they also have human-like characteristics.

In Western culture, we tend to think all deities are like the Christian God, transcendent and far above humanity. But Asian art reminds us that there is a scale of divinity, from ordinary mortals through divine humans, and through human-like deities, all the way to transcendent unknowable deities.

So that’s the purpose of the scavenger hunt — look for works of art, then figure out how divine a being is portrayed in the art work. To show you better what I mean, here’s the first page of this year’s scavenger hunt:

Updated Greek Myths curriculum

I spent the last two days doing an update of the Greek Myths curriculum on my curriculum website.

Tessa Swartz, then 12 years old, and I developed this curriculum back in 2014. Teachers at the UU Church of Palo Alto did a field test in 2015, and I did a quick revision that year incorporating field test feedback. I was supposed to do a final edit the following year (2016), but that was the year my father died and I wound up dropping the project. Nevertheless, the curriculum continued in use at the Palo Alto church right up through the pandemic.

This final revision retains the same stories originally curated by Tessa and me in 2014. But the following changes were made: revised the lesson plans (some quite heavily); added more illustrations; upgraded existing illustrations; rewrote the introduction; and did an overall edit.

If you have any comments on the curriculum, please leave them here or email me.

A woman chained to a rack cliff, with a sea monster below her and a man hovering above her.
A new illustration just added to the Greek Myths curriculum: Andromeda chained to the rock. This is a detail from a Roman wall painting of the first century BCE, from the Boscotrecase, Italy (public domain image).

How the 18th C. British establishment perceived Unitarians

James Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, described how one “Reverend Mr. Palmer, Fellow of Queen’s College, Cambridge,” dined with Boswell and Johnson in 1781. Boswell appended a footnote with some more information about Palmer:

In other words, promoting Unitarianism in late eighteenth century Britain was sometimes considered illegal. Further, you could be sent to the penal colony in Australia for that crime. I guess Unitarianism was perceived as a threat to the establishment — not just to the established Church of England, but to the political establishment as well.

More on land acknowledgements

A recent news story got me thinking about land acknowledgements.

On Friday 15 November, Brown University transferred possession of 255 acres of land in Bristol, Rhode Island, to a preservation trust established by the Pokanoket Indian Tribe. The land was the ancestral home of Metacom, known by English settlers in the 17th century as King Phillip; it was he whom King Phillip’s War was named after. This transfer of land had its origins in a 2017 encampment by people who were descended from the 17th century Pokanoket village.

There are some details that make this land transfer especially interesting.

First, the land is being transferred to a preservation trust, not to a specific tribal entity. The agreement specifically states that the land “shall at all times and in perpetuity provide and maintain access to the lands and waters of the Property to all members of all Tribes historically part of the Pokanoket Nation/Confederacy, and to all members of the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head (Aquinnah), the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe, the Assonet Band of the Wampanoag Nation, the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe and the Pocasset Tribe of the Pokanoket Nation.”

Second, the Pokanoket Tribe is not recognized by the federal government, nor by the state of Rhode Island. A Providence Journal article from 2017, written right after the 2017 encampment, pointed out that even other Indian tribes don’t necessarily recognize the Pokanoket Indians: “It is not just the U.S. government that doesn’t recognize the Pokanokets. The Narragansett Indian Tribe, the only federally-recognized tribe in Rhode Island, also maintains that the Pokanokets lack any standing under the law.” And other Wampanoag tribes apparently remain skeptical; not surprising, given that the territory claimed by the Pokanokets seems to include some lands currently administered by other Wampanoag groups.

Honestly, this kind of thing should be expected here in southern New England. We have a legacy of four hundred years of erasing Indian presence here. This has been well documented, e.g. in Jean O’Brien’s scholarly book First and Lasting: Writing Indians Out of Existence in New England (Univ. of Minnesota Press, 2010).

But this also raises challenges to Unitarian Universalist congregations in our area who would like to adopt a land acknowledgement. Here in Cohasset, we could offer land acknowledgements to at least three tribal entities. We’re probably in the historic lands of the Massachusett, so perhaps it would make sense to acknowledge the Massachusett Tribe at Ponkapoag, based in Bridgewater. However, there’s another Massachusett group, the Praying Indians of Natick and Ponkapoag, based in Stoughton; and since we’re pretty sure that an Indian woman who became a member of the Cohasset church in 1736 later settled in Natick, maybe it makes sense for us to acknowledge this tribal entity. Or maybe we should acknowledge both. And now that I’ve learned from researching the land transfer initiated by the Pokanoket Tribe that they identify Cohasset as being part of their traditional lands, maybe we should acknowledge them, too.

I suspect many people facing this kind of challenge would simply ignore the current tribal entities, and go with the historic record at the moment of European contact. If we did that here, we’d acknowledge Cohasset belonged to the Massachusett Indians in 1620 (probably; there’s some debate among historians). But in this part of the world, that kind of land acknowledgement can result in writing Indians out of existence, because it glosses over the fact that Indians continued to live on these lands for the past four hundred years, and continue to live here today.

This brings me back to the land transfer that Brown is undertaking. The home of Metacomet has significance for all Indians in southeastern New England. Four hundred years of colonialism make it difficult to know who — which tribal entity — should be the appropriate stewards of the land. Thus the university chose to set up a permanent trust that allows access to more than one tribal entity. This is by no means an ideal solution, but given the history of our region, it does make sense. The university did not try to adjudicate which are the “real” Indians who should have access to the land.

If we’re going to do land acknowledgements, maybe that’s the kind of thing we need to do in our region. We don’t want to erase today’s Indians from the New England landscape. We do want to recognize that descendants of those seventeenth century Indians are still living around here (some of them may even come into our congregations now and again), and they may have their own opinions about whose land it is. Above all, we don’t want to pretend that we get to adjudicate who are the “real” Indians in our area.

Catchphrase

Recently, I’ve noticed a new catchphrase in mass correspondence that comes from both the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) and the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association (UUMA). Instead of addressing us recipients as “friends” or “colleagues,” or something similar, some of the people sending us this correspondence address us as “Beloveds.” (And yes, this word always seems to be capitalized.)

I’ve spent most of my career in Unitarian Universalist congregations cleaning up after misconduct by professional staff. Most of that misconduct was sexual misconduct, and most of the people perpetrating sexual misconduct were men. I never heard those perpetrators say “Beloved,” but some of them talked rather freely about how much they “loved” “their” congregations, and “their” congregants. (I’m putting the word “their” between quotation marks because that in my experience that sense of possession was also characteristic of sexual misconductors; and unfortunately, the word “Beloved” also carries connotations of possession.)

Now, I understand the intent behind addressing me as a “Beloved.” At least I think I do. I think the person calling me a “Beloved” intends to include me in a “Beloved Community”? Or maybe they just want to signal that love is at the core of Unitarian Universalism? Actually, I’m not real clear on the intent behind calling me a “Beloved.”

But it creeps me out. Yes I know, maybe I have a little bit of secondary trauma from dealing with a number of religious communities that have been traumatized by sexual misconduct. Yes I know, the word “love” in the English language incorporates a whole range of meanings and I don’t need to interpret that word as necessarily creepy. And yes, OK, maybe I’m being oversensitive.

Even so — when I’m addressed in correspondence as “Beloved,” it does creep me out. Once I hit that word, I find I rarely read any further. It just sounds so yucky, and it stops me dead.

Updated curriculum

I just finished an update of an 8-session curriculum (with an additional ninth alternate session) titled “From Long Ago.” This curriculum is based on stories from the old Sophia Fahs book From Long Ago and Many Lands. To avoid some of the biases Fahs had, I went back to the original sources she used, and referred to other translations and sources, to completely rewrite all the stories.

Version 2.0 of the curriculum has now been released — see it here. In addition to cosmetic changes and light editing throughout, I’ve added more illustrations. I also added several stories; version 1 of the curriculum required access to the 1948 Fahs book, but with the addition of these stories, Version 2 is now completely independent of the Fahs book.

I’m planning to release additional over the next few months. These new releases will be numbered as Version 2.x. I’ve already rewritten some other stories from the Fahs book, and am working on new session plans for those stories.

To allow for updates, this is an online-only curriculum for now. Someday if I have time, I may create a print-on-demand version, for those who prefer a hard copy (it’ll be expensive, though, due to the numerous color illustrations).