Duckling update

The Mallard who is nesting in the basement stairwell of our building had six ducklings two days ago. Carol has been supplying the mother and her ducklings with water and food (greens and rolled oats), but sometime yesterday two of them died of unknown causes. Just now I heard the mother quacking furiously, and I ran out onto our balcony in time to see a white-and-gray cat scramble up over the fence with two ducklings in its mouth. The mother duck followed the cat out to the street and kept quacking in the direction the cat disappeared.

Carol and I met one of our downstairs neighbors in the yard. We all looked down into the stairwell: the mother duck was there with just two living ducklings, and there was blood on the concrete path at the top of the stairs. While I’m sure the mother duck feels safe down in that cosy little stairwell, staying there means that her babies are (as Carol pointed out) sitting ducks for any cat hunting in the neighborhood.

Post script to cat owners: This was no feral cat that caught the ducklings; it was plump, well-fed, and clean, and obviously someone’s pet. I wish cat owners would keep their pets indoors:– it’s better for the cat, since indoor cats are far less likely to get feline AIDS, or to become coyote snacks;– and it’s much better for the birds of the neighborhood, who won’t become cat chow.

Further update: Carol finally called the Peninsula Humane Society & SPCA, who sent an animal control officer. It was pretty clear that in a neighborhood full of cats, the remaining two ducklings wouldn’t last another day. Olivia-the-Humane-Officer arrived at about seven in the evening; the mother duck flew away (apparently a common occurrence), so Officer Olivia had to take the two ducklings with her. In thanks, we made a donation to the Humane Society in honor of “all humane officers.”

Nesting

Carol discovered that there is a female Mallard duck with ducklings living in one of the stairwells that lead down to the basement under our building. When she took the photo below, she didn’t want to get any closer for fear of disturbing the mother duck. The babies are hiding under their mother’s breast.

Carol left some greens and a dish of water for the ducks.

I’m not sure where the actual nest was. It doesn’t look like it was down in the bottom of the stairwell; perhaps one of the babies fell down the stairs, and the mother is down there protecting them.

The joy of cars

It is fashionable among religious and political liberals to bemoan the existence of automobiles, particularly because their environmental impact. I do it all the time. Of course, if you’re like me, you’re familiar with various counter arguments that tell us why cars are not so bad as all that:– we know that suburban sprawl began long before the automobile age, and so doesn’t require automobiles — and that having automobiles was better than using horses for transportation purposes, since the exhaust put out by horses in cities is arguably more noisome and a greater public health issue than automobile exhaust, and the maltreatment of horses when they were used primarily as transportation is arguably an ethical problem as serious as that of sprawl.

However, I don’t see many of us paying attention to what might be called the cultural argument in favor of cars. This argument is presented quite well by Agatha Christie in her autobiography:

“Oh, the joy that car [the first car she owned] was to me! I don’t suppose anyone nowadays could believe the difference it made to one’s life [to own a car for the first time]. To be able to go anywhere you chose; to places beyond the reach of your legs — it widened your whole horizon. One of the greatest pleasures I had out of the car was going down to Ashfield and taking mother out for drives. She enjoyed it passionately, just as I did. We went to all sorts of places — Dartmoor, the house of friends she had never been able to see because of the difficulties of transport — and the sheer joy of driving was enough for both of us. I don’t think anything has given me more pleasure, more joy of achievement, than my dear bottle-nosed Morris Cowley.”

Yes, I hate suburban sprawl, and I dislike having to commute to work by car,– but I too, like Agatha Christie, love to drive. And I have found that it is no use to me personally to address the first two points without acknowledging that last point. What about you?

Humans at the center of the universe

Dad made an interesting suggestion this afternoon when I was talking with him. He suggested that calling oneself a humanist might tend to indicate that one assumes that human beings are at the center of existence. This might imply that those who are committed to environmental justice and ecological repair might prefer to call themselves naturalists (as in, a religious naturalist or theological naturalist).

Dad put it much better than that, but I think I’ve managed to communicate his basic idea. And I think he’s identified some of my discomfort with the term “humanism” — I don’t want to be associated with a theological label that puts humans at the center of the universe, because in my opinion a big part of the problem with Western culture is that it makes humans more important than any other kind of life form, an attitude that has gotten us into global climate change, denial of global climate change, release of toxics into the environment, etc.

What do you think? Does humanism put humans at the center of the universe? Is that a bad thing? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’d particularly love to hear from someone who strongly identifies with both humanism and deep ecology, mostly because from my point of view those two positions would be mutually exclusive.

Midnight in New York

The movie theatre was in the middle of the block, and the line to get in already stretched to the corner. It was forty minutes before the movie began. We had our tickets already — the early show was already sold out by the time we showed up, so we had bought tickets for the seven o’clock — but we figured that if we wanted to get seats together, we had better line up with all the others. Pretty soon, the line was twice as long.

Someone walking by to get to the end of the line said, “All these people must’ve started seeing Woody Allen films when they were in college and here they all are.” But several people had brought children and teenagers, so that wasn’t entirely true. Someone else said that there are three hundred seats in this theatre, but usually only a couple dozen are filled. Not tonight, though. A man standing behind us talked knowledgeably and at length about other Woody Allen films: “Remember the scene where they’re standing in line to see the movie in ‘Annie Hall’? … Then Marshall McLuhan walks up, and says … And Woody Allen looks out at the camera and says …” A woman said, “I can’t remember the last time I stood in line on the first night of a movie.” The knowledgeable man said, “It already opened in New York and L.A. This is just opening night for the Bay area. But at least it still hasn’t opened in Pittsburgh.”

At last the line started moving. We found two seats together, at the very back, with an aisle seat for my very long legs. A couple, maybe in their late twenties or early thirties, asked if the seats beside us were open, and we said yes. He went off to get something or other, and she said to us, “Do you think we’ll be able to see back here?” “It’s a small theater,” said Carol. “Those must be the last two seats left together,” I said. “Well, it’s much better to sit together,” said the woman. They came and went a couple of times, and on the last time in, he murmured an apology, and she said, “It’s our first movie together.”

I won’t tell you anything about the movie; anything I could tell you would spoil it. Except I can tell you that although the movie claims to be about Paris, it’s really about New York, like all of Woody Allen’s movies; everyone speaks with a New York rhythm, except the Parisians of course, but they might just be tourists. Come to think of it, many of the people in the movie theatre sounded like they came from New York — not the Bronx or Staten Island, mind you, but Manhattan.

The way out of decline

The Unitarian Universalist Association is in decline by many measures: number of certified members, average Sunday morning attendance, enrollment in religious education programs. Now obviously this decline is an average across all congregations; some congregations are growing and thriving, while others are declining. So is there a way out of decline?

I don’t believe there is some magic bullet that will infallibly cure decline. Nor am I an ideologue who believes there there is one root cause from which all decline springs — that is, I don’t believe that we’re declining because of our polity, or because we’re not Evangelical Christian, or because we’re mostly white. As a historical materialist, I do believe that there are some broad demographic trends that are pushing us in certain directions. But I also believe that every congregation finds itself in a slightly different and therefore unique setting, with a unique set of pressures and opportunities. Specific techniques for growth that work in my congregation may not work for your congregation, and vice versa.

Having said that, there are at least three obvious principles that can help us reverse decline.

Most obviously, good management over the long haul is probably essential for reversing decline. A congregation can have the most fabulous vision in the world, but you have to manage your congregation on a day-to-day, week-to-week basis, over a period of months and years, in order to realize that vision. Management is somewhat different than leadership. Management are those habits and practices that keep an organization running smoothly and efficiently, and that coordinate efforts towards the big goals of the organization.

It is worth noting that the nonprofit world is a competitive place. Like it or not, a congregation is just another nonprofit competing for people’s personal involvement and financial support. In a competitive marketplace, there will be forces pushing our congregations to use resources — money, staff time, volunteer hours — with increased efficiency. Therefore, increased efficiency through better management is a goal throughout the nonprofit world — and should be a goal within our congregations.

It is probably the case that a congregation will always need more than one person driving good management. We can’t just delegate management to one person, because if only one person is a good manager, that person is going to get tired out pretty quickly. Boards have to supervise paid staff and key volunteers with management in mind; they have to be sure that staff and key volunteers have access to training in appropriate management skills; and boards have to manage themselves properly. Ministers, religious educators, and administrators have to make sure they are constantly honing their management skills. Everyone management reponsibility has to take pride in being a good manager. In short, you have to build a culture where good management is the norm, where your key people are managing the organization for the long haul.

Along with good management, you have to have good leadership — once again, over the long haul — and once again, there has to be more than one good leader. A good leader always has his or her eyes constantly on the big picture. A good leader is someone who is able to motivate other people to work towards a compelling shared vision. And a good leader is also skilled at good followership; a good leader knows when it is time to follow, as well as when it is time to lead.

Permit me to add what should be a too-obvious point: if you are not relying on your senior minister as one of your key leaders, that’s a little weird. Some ministers are not good managers, but if you don’t trust your senior minister to lead, you need to ask yourself some hard questions: do you not trust your senior minister because that person is incompetent, or do you not trust your senior minister because you are unable to trust ordained clergy or any authority figure? If you feel you can’t attract good leaders to be your minister, you will want to ask yourself why that is so: is it because you are unable to offer a financially attractive package, or is it because you have a pattern of hiring less than competent leaders, or is it because your congregation holds ministers in contempt such that they can’t be effective and/or leave quickly? These may be difficult questions for you to answer, because it’s going to be hard to get straight answers from anyone. But it is wise to answer them straight, because without good leadership from a visionary senior minister, I think you’re going to find it’s difficult to reverse decline.

I would also suggest you’ll want to ask the same sorts of questions if you can’t attract good lay leaders. If you find that your best lay leaders are getting burned out, and maybe even leaving the congregation after a stint in a formal leadership position, you’ll want to figure out why, and fix that problem. Reversing decline is a long-term effort, and you need leaders who can stick around for the long haul.

With solid management and visionary leadership in place, the next step is cheerful and dogged persistence to reverse your decline.

Every congregation will be in decline because of a different set of reasons. If you’re lucky, the reason for decline will be obvious. Maybe your congregation is unable to ask confidently and consistently for financial support. Maybe your congregation avoids all risks. Maybe your congregation’s physical plant has deferred maintenance that results in an unsafe, unattractive, messy, dirty, and/or smelly building. Maybe your congregation has a secret history of misconduct by clergy or lay leaders. If there is an obvious reason why you’re in decline, the solution is obvious. If your building is smelly, dirty, and unsafe, you can create a management plan to fix it up, etc. And you keep at it, cheerfully and doggedly, until the obvious problems are solved.

More likely, there won’t be an obvious reason why you’re in decline. Then your task is more difficult. You can spend years trying to sort out all the subtle and complex reasons why you’re declining. Or, more practically, you can focus on positive action: determine what your compelling vision is, articulate it clearly to the congregation and the surrounding community, and turn your compelling vision into reality.

This is an iterative process; that is, you start out with a rough idea of your compelling vision, try to articulate it and bring it into reality, and when you fail to articulate it and make it real, figure out why you failed and try again. Then go through this process again several more times, and the whole time you’re doing this you should be constantly paying attention to managing the congregation more efficiently, and constantly paying attention to informal and formal feedback loops that tell you honestly whether you’re succeeding or not. You keep trying, and failing, and getting better at it, and trying again, and failing but not so badly this time, over and over again, until you get good at whatever you’re doing.

If Unitarian Universalists have one weakness these days, it’s that we lack a certain amount of stick-to-it-tiveness. In social justice, we are afflicted with the “cause-of-the-month” syndrome. When it comes to growth, we’re afflicted with a similar lack of persistence — if we don’t see immediate and rapid growth, we start saying to each other, “Well, but there’s more to growth than numerical growth.” Both social justice and growth require dogged and cheerful persistence. Nobody’s going to end racism in a year; nobody’s going to reverse congregational decline in a couple of months. Our planning horizons for growth should be this Sunday, next year, five years from now — and twenty years from now, looking ahead to the next generation. This iterative process takes years — years of trying things and admitting failure, years of building up small successes until they become big successes.

There is no magic bullet to end our decline. Every congregation is going to face unique problems, and what works in someone else’s congregation may or may not work in yours. But some things we can be sure of: we need good management, good leadership, and cheerfully dogged persistence.

Why I disagree with Jonathan Edwards (but like him for it)

I love reading Jonathan Edwards, the great eighteenth century evangelical New England minister, perhaps the greatest American theologian of that century. He writes well, good rational eighteenth century American prose filled with vivid images and solid common sense. And because he is such a clear writer, I can better understand why I disagree so strongly with his theological position. This passage, from his sermon “Knowledge of Divine Truth,” beautifully summarizes one of Edwards’s principle axioms, an axiom with which I could not disagree more:

“There are many truths concerning God, and our duty to him, which are evident by the light of nature. But Christian divinity, properly so called, is not evident by the light of nature; it depends on revelation. Such are our circumstances now in our fallen state, that nothing which it is needful for us to know concerning God, is manifest by the light of nature in the manner in which it is necessary for us to know. For the knowledge of no truth in divinity is of any significance to us, any otherwise than as it some way or other belongs to the gospel scheme, or as it relates to a Mediator. But the light of nature teaches us no truth of divnity in this manner. Therefore it cannot be said, that we come to the knowledge of any part of Christian divinity by the light of nature. The light of nature teaches no truth as it is in Jesus. It is only the Word of God, contained in the Old and New Testament, which teaches us Christian divinity.”

I couldn’t disagree more with Edwards; yet it is his clarity in stating this axiom that allows me to understand why I disagree with him. This leads me to conclude that there is no use in putting forth unclear arguments. If people disagree with you, they will figure it out sooner or later; better that they figure it out sooner. And better that they have a clear understanding of why they disagree with you.

This, I think, is why I have such a feeling of distaste for the Seven Principles. The prose is mushy, and seems to veil strongly-held beliefs behind weak assertions of generalized platitudes. Of course I believe in democratic process; but what do you mean by democratic process, and in what sense is this a religious and theological matter anyway? Of course I assert that every person has inherent worth and dignity, but do you make that assertion for the same reason I do? — are you making that assertion from the standpoint of natural law, or from the standpoint of Universalism that knows the power of God’s love, or what? The Seven Principles are unclear, and therefore easy to affirm but difficult to disagree with; this is their big weakness.

Reasons for decline

In yesterday’s post, I talked about the numerical decline of Unitarian Universalism, and asked why we are declining. Readers left thoughtful and interesting comments giving their ideas of why we’re declining. In tomorrow’s post, In Thursday’s post, I’ll suggest some ways we might reverse our numerical decline. Now are some of my thoughts about why the numbers of certified members of Unitarian Universalist congregations are declining:

(1) During the Great Recession, congregations have been facing budget shortfalls, and one obvious way to cut costs is to reduce the number of certified members. Congregations pay dues to the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) and to their local district for each certified member; fewer members means less dues to pay.

(2) UUA salary guidelines are pegged to congregation size, so a congregation that is hiring a new staffer may have motivation to have fewer certified members in order to drop down to a lower salary range in the guidelines.

(3) People who come from no previous religious background may see no benefit in becoming members of a congregation, or may not understand membership.

(4) Membership is declining because there are fewer people in our congregations — more on this in this next set of comments.

Now, here are my thoughts on why Sunday morning attendance is declining:

(1) The target audience for most Unitarian Universalist congregations is upper middle class white people living in wealthy suburbs. This is a declining group. Whites are headed towards being a minority group in U.S. society. And younger white people are returning to live in cities, and often can’t afford to live in wealthy suburbs.

(2) Patterns of religious participation are changing. Instead of participating in a traditional congregation, people in the U.S. may be doing something else. They may choose to attend occasional weekend workshops in spirituality; or may choose to adopt a home-based “do-it-yourself” approach to spirituality; or may be experimenting with alternative religious communities such as intentional communities, the so-called “new monasticism,” etc.; or may choose to participate in two or more religious communities simultaneously (possibly with a lower level of commitment in each); or may be experimenting with the various forms of online religion; etc.

(3) Many Unitarian Universalist congregations have become de facto ethnic churches — white upper middle class enclaves. Such ethnic churches are increasingly unattractive to younger people who are accustomed to living and working in multiracial, multicultural environments.

(4) Sunday is no longer a day when no one has anything to do (except for real estate agents). Many people work on Sundays; children have sports and extra curricular commitments on Sundays; adults have sports and extra curricular commitments on Sundays; etc. On top of that, people these days are used to 24/7 shopping online, gyms that are open until late, etc. — we are a society that wants to be able to do what we want, when we want. This is one reason why voting by mail has increasing so quickly. yet most of our congregations offer only one service on Sunday mornings.

(5) Services in many Unitarian Universalist congregations do not have particularly high production values. Opera singers are having to learn how to act — no more planting yourself center stage and singing as loud as you can — so that opera can survive in competition with TV, online videos, video games, etc. Just so, those who lead Sunday services need to incorporate stagecraft, visual excitement, etc., into their skills — it’s no longer enough to plant a preacher behind a pulpit.

(6)Many Unitarian Universalist congregations have lessened their commitment to providing programming for families with children — more on this in this next set of comments.

And here are my thoughts on why religious education enrollment is declining:

(1) Professional religious educators are a dying breed. The economic situations of most congregation has led to cuts in religious education staffing. Positions calling for a minister of religious education are being downgraded to director of religious education, or associate or assistant minister. Full-time positions are disappearing, and part-time positions are losing hours. Sabbatical leave for religious educators is almost unheard of. As a result, religious education as a profession is not attracting many high quality candidates; many religious educators are part-timers who take the job because it’s convenient, not because they are actually inspired to do religious education as a career. Furthermore, the number of career religious educators (trained professionals who plan to make this their career) is dwindling; in the past, career religious educators helped support the untrained, part-time and temporary religious educators.

(2) UUA and district support for religious education is down. Many districts have replaced district religious education consultants with district program consultants. Staff and funding for the religious education department of the UUA has been cut.

(3) The UUA religious education department is inward-focussed and seemingly unaware of wider developments in the fields of religious education, and education more broadly. The UUA’s religious education department has insisted in recasting itself as the “Lifespan Faith Development” department; but religious education is a well-recognized field with an international professional organization, scholars doing relevant research, and many practitioners in other liberal denominations and faiths; whereas “faith development” is a field restricted to a few developmental psychologists following in the footsteps of James Fowler. Two examples of the inward focus of the UUA when it comes to religious education: while the rest of the U.S. prioritizes assessment within education, the UUA still focusses on curriculum; and while the broader educational world grapples with all the new insights from cognitive science, UUA materials show little or no influence of cognitive science insights.

(4) Current congregational leadership is often drawn from empty nesters and retired people, some of whom don’t want to spend money on kids. In more than one congregation, I’ve actually heard older people advocate that their congergation be a sort of “over-55 community.” Even one or two people like this can be enough to scare away families with children.

(5) The religious education programs of too many congregation are woefully out of date. Our best curriculum guides are from twenty or more years ago — and in any case, today’s families are accustomed to educational programs that are driven by assessment, not by curriculum. Youth groups still mostly operate using a model that became popular about 1970. Sunday school facilities are typically outdated, and often have a lot of deferred maintenance.