A Brighter Coming Day
Reverend Holly Horn
First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, PA
On June 12, 1796, a group of fourteen men, English expatriates, "formally met and pledged themselves to united action by signing a book of record titled 'Proceedings' . . ." On August 21, they were joined by seven other men in organizing The Society of Unitarian Christians of Philadelphia.
It was a bold and radical move to take the name "Unitarian". Joseph Priestley, the English Unitarian minister, scholar, and the scientist who discovered oxygen, had narrowly escaped with his life when riotous mobs destroyed his home and his church, his library and laboratory in Birmingham, England. Finally determining that his religious and political views made life in England too dangerous, Priestley fled to this country and settled with his family in Northumberland, 130 long and difficult miles from Philadelphia.
But Priestley's greatest passion, his "favorite pursuit" was the propagation of Unitarianism, and he returned to Philadelphia to preach, with the intention of establishing a congregation. He had tea with President Washington, who was deeply interested in Priestley's ideas. He befriended the Vice President, John Adams, and later Thomas Jefferson.
Yet, in 1796 "Unitarian" was a dangerous label, associated in the public mind with atheism.
True, we had no creed; no statement of belief to which members were compelled to subscribe. Rather we entrusted matters of belief to the individual conscience, and we covenanted together to worship only the one God, and not Jesus.
Yes, it was a bold move to take the name "Unitarian", and in 1796 we became the first permanently established congregation in North America to do so. And today, in observance of our 205th birthday, we remember those whose free faith is our inheritance.
We remember those, like Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, who carried forward our faith in their lives and deeds. There are many names; many stories. Throughout our 205 years, men and women have come here to dedicate their lives to something larger than themselves, something larger than personal ambition, or even civic virtue. They came, as we do, to be enlarged in spiritual understanding, strengthened in faith; to ponder the great questions of our human existence; to find hope and courage; to seek and proclaim truth; to make justice.
We come here to sing praise for the goodness of life; and to affirm the values - those invisible, intangibles - that endow our daily lives with meaning and purpose: love, learning, loyalty, compassion, community, kindness, friendship, fidelity, honesty, patience, passion, silence, mystery, beauty, humor and joy among them.
The importance of all these things, the vital importance of centering our lives in something larger than our selves, does not diminish when the weather turns hot and humid. The gross materialism that drives our culture, the seductions of the marketplace don't take a summer vacation. That constant drag on the human spirit, which lives not by things, but by the meaning of things, to paraphrase St. Exupery, never lets up for a minute.
But in the summer, many of us relax our weekend routines. We travel. We slow down a bit. And the church slows down, too. Next Sunday, our services will begin at 10:00 am, and will be held in the air-conditioned Parish Room. The Worship Associates, our trained and experienced lay leaders will conduct worship, and some will preach. We will provide childcare, rather than the Chapel services and Religious Education classes offered during the rest of the year for children and youth.
We slow down. Some of us travel. Many who've led this church during the past year, exceedingly generous in their gifts of time and talent, will take a break.
Benjamin and I will be attending the General Assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association in Cleveland, along with church member and GA delegate Ed Close. And then we'll be on vacation for the month of July. In August, we'll be back, meeting and planning with you to prepare for the fall. We'll be back in the pulpit, and in this sanctuary, on September 8.
While we do slow down, we can no longer pretend that God goes to Maine for the summer, or that the spiritual life admits of a seasonal hiatus. To those of you who will tend the fire of our community during the next two months, we all owe our deepest thanks. And for those who will be away, I charge you to take the church with you.
Not the cares and concerns of committees - forget about those. Not the challenges that lie before us, as large and real and exciting as they are - forget about those, too. On second thought, I don't want to go too far here: please don't forget to make payments on your pledge, or to make a pledge if you haven't already, for this fiscal year.
But, what I really mean to say, the church that I wish for you to take with you is this worshiping community: the warmth of spiritual companionship, the invitation to silence and reflection; the affirmation of all those invisible intangibles, the values that endow our daily lives with meaning and purpose.
There is room in your heart, if you will make it, for a place to celebrate the good, the true, and the beautiful each day. You can dress it up, in your mind's eye, with the icons of your own personal faith; a chalice, perhaps. You can make a room in your imagination just like this one - and go there, go there every day, recollecting yourself.
And you know, in the same way that recreation isn't to be equated with escape, but with balance and regeneration, beach reading doesn't have to be shallow. It can be scripture: for example, a novel by Frances Harper or a biography of Priestley - or Emerson or Thoreau or Margaret Fuller, or even the new biography of Frank Furness, the son of our first minister and the architect who designed this building. You could put a book of poetry next to every seat in your home where you regularly come to rest. Or a Bible, the Tao Te Ching, or Shakespeare.
You can take it with you! So, take the church along - if only to counter the indignities of airline travel, the irritabilities of family road trips, or to keep the shopping devils at bay. Take the church with you - to those barbecues, pool parties, picnics - and in addition to having fun, you may be surprised by joy. Take the church with you, and come home in September, bringing with you some water to join with the waters gathered from all our journeys, those inward as well as temporal.
And know that we take you with us as well. AMEN.
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