Water Ceremony

Water Ceremony

Sunday, September 9, 2007

The Rev. Melanie Morel-Ensminger

First Unitarian Universalist Church of New Orleans

Words for Meditation

We come back together again as one community of faith after a summer of diverse experiences. Some of us have had a summer of travel, of family times, of relaxation, of reading at the pool or by the pool, of long lazy afternoons. Some of us have had a summer of hard hot humid days, volunteering in the heat, helping our community, working on our own houses or those of relatives and friends, or in other ways putting in sweat equity to rebuild our loves and our city. Some of us faithfully attended worship here this summer; some of us visited other congregations; some of us took a few Sundays off.

But here we are, together once again, reconstituting our faith community at the start of another church worship year. We give thanks for the support and care of this church, for the diversity and challenge of Unitarian Universalism, for the richness of our lives, in its complex mix of joy and grief, satisfaction and aggravation, rest and toil.

Mixed feeling seem to be the order of the day for New Orleanians; in the New Normal, it seems hard if not impossible to have an uncomplicated emotion. Even our beloved Water Ceremony is touched with ambivalence – because how we feel about water has changed forever. New Orleans musical genius Allen Toussaint compares love to water, as a torrent that can both nurture and destroy:

“Like a flower, drinking from the pouring rain

The same rain that could wash it away.”

With pain we acknowledge that “the same rain,” the same water that leads to growth and brings sweet refreshment, also brings destruction and death. Water is life-giving and life-destroying. Under one circumstance, we love it; under another, we hate and fear it. When it washes over us at the Gulf shore, we’re delighted by the feel and power of it. When it washes into our homes and our church, it brings terror and loss. The same rain can be welcomed by some, and shunned by others.

Introduction to the Water Ceremony

Although it is a beloved tradition in most Unitarian Universalist congregations around the world, the Water Ceremony is not a very old custom, being only about 30-some years old. The first UU Water Communion was held in the mid-1970s at the first Women & Religion Convocation held at a retreat center in Grailville, Michigan. The organizers of the conference asked that the participants – UU women from all over the continent – bring with them a small amount of water from their homes, to be poured together into a common bowl at the opening worship service. The water symbolized that although the women came from many different places, were of different backgrounds and life experiences and social situations, they were Unitarian Universalist sisters, of one liberal heritage.

It was a powerful metaphor of unity in diversity, of a community united across all the usual lines and categories that serve to separate and divide, and the women who were there were greatly moved by it. Many of them returned from Grailville and shared a version of the ceremony with their congregations.

In the years since, the idea of the Water Communion has traveled all over our denomination, from east to west, north and south, in the U.S., to Canada, even to UU congregations in Australia and New Zealand. Perhaps as an indication of a growing hunger in UUism for more ritual, congregation after congregation took it up. Most hold the service, as we do, to mark the start of a new church worship year. As you might expect with a Unitarian Universalist ritual, there are almost as many ways to do Water Communion as there are UU congregations. Most of the churches with memberships over 200 have people contribute their water silently; while smaller churches give opportunity for individual sharing. Some divide the waters by the points of the compass; some by experiences the waters represent.

Over the years of the Water Communion’s evolution in UU congregations, many ministers and lay leaders have become concerned that the ritual lost its original intent of honoring diversity and enhancing community. In some congregations, recitations of water gathered from Tahiti and Paris and Alaskan cruise ships have overshadowed waters brought from local lakes and rivers – not to mention water from garden hoses or kitchen taps. (In the original version, the women brought water from their homes, which represented themselves, not places they had visited, which would have represented how much disposable income and free time they had.)

The Water Communion’s true and continuing purpose is not to report on, as we used to do on the first week of elementary school, “What I Did During My Summer Vacation” which not everyone gets, but instead “How I Felt This Summer,” to highlight our congregation’s connection and closeness, despite our diversity in terms of life experiences and spirituality. Despite the labels we give it, all water is the same; despite the labels society lays upon us or even those we give ourselves, we human beings are also all the same. The Water Ceremony reminds us of this great truth, and that is why it doesn’t matter where the water comes from.

I realize that not everyone will agree with what they might see as a negative change in the way Water Communion has been done in the past. But I ask that you open yourselves this year to what is, after all, only a return to the original roots of the ceremony, and remember that while nobody ever intended for it become exclusionary, sharing stories of fabulous trips among a group that includes people who couldn’t afford even a weekend away does leave folks out, and reminds them uncomfortably of their economic challenge, and the gap between them and other church members. Especially in post-Katrina New Orleans, we are more aware than ever of how people can be negatively impacted by class and race. Let us resolve to eliminate as much as possible the traces of those differences in our midst. (In any case, we can always go back to doing the ritual in the more familiar way next year, seeing this year as an experiment and not as a forced permanent change.

With this ceremony, we begin a new worship year, as well as a brand-new shared ministry. We have come home to this church and to this religious movement and to this great but damaged city; we rejoice to be together once again. Let us bring our water together as we bring ourselves together – willing to commingle, willing to be changed and affected, willing to be poured forth in acts of love and service.

I ask that you listen with your heart to the reading that is to come, opening yourself to the feelings and emotions that have washed over you this summer, and choose when to pour your water. Some of you may wish to pour water more than once, as you may have had experiences that affected you in different ways this summer. When you come forward to pour your water, if you feel moved to do so, you may briefly share aloud something about your water, but it is also fine if you wish to pour silently. If you didn’t bring water, small cups of water are available at the entrance table.

Water Communion Ceremony

Everyone present may participate in our Water Ceremony, whether you are a first-time visitor or a long-time member. If someone near you has no water, please share some of your water with them. Let us act out our sense of connection & relationship. Whoever we are, wherever we come from, we belong to one another; what affects one of us affects us all.

The winds of summer have blown us about, and today we return to this liberal community of faith, where we draw sustenance to live out our faith in the world. Among us, there have been many journeys this summer, some of them physical, some of them mental, some of them emotional, some of them spiritual. Some journeys have been a combination of many of these.

Some of us here have had experiences this summer that gave us respite from our hectic and busy lives, leaving us feeling rested and renewed, ready to face the rest of the year with energy and a sense of hope and optimism. We have brought still waters of rest & renewal.

Some of us here were lucky to have had experiences this summer that elated us, brought us times of gladness, experiences that lifted our hearts. We have brought shining waters of joy & happiness.

Some of us here have had experiences this summer that came near to breaking our hearts, stormy experiences of such deep loss and pain that we shed countless lonely tears. We have brought with us storm waters of grief & sadness.

Some of us here have had experiences this summer that portended large or small alterations in our lives, in our families, in our work lives, in our relationships; roiling changes, whether welcome or unwelcome, that brought disruption or discomfort to our lives. We have brought rushing waters of change & transition.

Let us take a few moments to reflect on our summer experiences, and to decide when you wish to pour out the water you have. You may want to divide your water and pour more than once. I invite all of us to bring our respectful & compassionate attention to all those who come forward as the water is shared – notice who shares at what point, especially those who share in silence. Let us make a point later to ask each other how we’re doing; to care for one another – which is much more important than asking where we’ve traveled.

Let us be together in a spirit of unity, entering into a short time of reflection, remembering the summer months, and beginning our church year together.

Let us bring forth Still Waters of Rest & Renewal.

Let us bring forth Shining Waters of Joy & Happiness.

Let us bring forth Storm Waters of Grief & Loss.

Let us bring forth Rushing Waters of Transition & Change.