Sanctuary Rededication Service

Sunday, October 10, 2010
First Unitarian Universalist Church of New Orleans
The Rev. Melanie Morel-Ensminger

Guided Meditation

Let us be together in a sacred time of meditation. If you are comfortable doing so, you may close your eyes.

Let us go back in time, back to October of 2005. Our Sanctuary is locked, but a few windowpanes are broken so that we can peek in.

The first thing we notice is the rank odor of mold that strikes us as soon as we come close to the window. As we press closer, we get a view of the destruction that Katrina wrought –

--the pews have come loose from the floor and are tumbled over each other like Lincoln logs;
--hymnals are tossed everywhere, waterlogged and discolored, a few sadly open to a well-loved hymn;
--our precious piano is upside down and clearly unsaveable;
--the beautiful plaster work of the walls, scored to resemble blocks of stone, is ruined, falling in sheets from the masonry;
--mold of different colors festoons the walls, far above the flood line, in ugly streaks;
--the wood parquet floor tiles are tumbled everywhere in the muck left by the flood waters.

Let yourself feel the emotions that this scene evokes in you.

Let us move forward in time, to May of 2007. With help from the UUA, the mold has been completely removed and the Sanctuary smells of fresh wood, as work goes on to rebuild.

Members and friends of the church, and volunteers from all over the country, work together to make our Sanctuary beautiful again. Creative ideas are birthed, and people gather to make them a reality.

In your mind’s eye, watch as the Sanctuary slowly comes to life –

--wood from the stage in the Fellowship Hall is remilled as wainscoting to cover the flood damage to the plaster;
--molding from the lost pews is remilled to form a cap for the wainscoting;
--the broken stained glass panes are replaced;
--the gaping hole at the back of the chancel is filled in first with sheetrock, and then with the beautifully restored stained glass window that honors the work of the Gordon Sisters;
--the ceiling with its ugly, perpetually falling acoustic tiles is covered with fire-resistant theatrical cloth, in panels lovingly sewn by church members and volunteers and bravely installed from high scaffolding by other church members and volunteers;
--the scarred concrete floor receives the gift of a custom-designed Labyrinth, and then the rest of the donated floor tiles are laid over the whole Sanctuary, and finished with a lovely fleur de lis.

From death to resurrection, not by supernatural miracle, but through the entirely natural miracle of church members and friends and UU volunteers working together to make things right and beautiful.

Open your eyes, if you haven’t already, and look around you, at the walls, the windows, the ceilings, the floors. This is our church home, and it has been remade, recreated, by the energies of our minds, our hearts, and our hands.

Let us be together in the silence, marveling at what has been accomplished, and giving thanks for this community of liberal faith.

Those recognized for their creativity and hard work on the Sanctuary:
The Gordon Sisters Window -- Mary Jo Day
Donation of Floor Tile -- Paulie Eisemann
The Labyrinth & Sanctuary Floor -- Marcie Brennan
Draped Ceiling & Wainscoting -- Reese Brewer
Finishing Work & Helpers -- The First Church Congregation



Words of Rededication

In late September 2005, when former First Church minister Suzanne Meyer and I peered through the broken panes of the stained glass windows that face Jefferson Avenue, the sight was both horrifying and heart-breaking. We saw and smelled what has been related in the Guided Meditation this morning. With our backgrounds in this congregation, and remembering what an herculean effort it had been for the members of this church to purchase this building complex, at that moment we both thought, Suzanne and I, that unless the UUA or some other entity entirely paid for the reconstruction, that it would be nearly impossible. We lit a voodoo candle we had purchased earlier that day in the French Quarter on the front steps, said silent prayers, and left with very heavy hearts.

We were so, so wrong. In our sadness over what Katrina had wrought, we did not have enough faith. While the UUA’s help in our recovery was important, and generous, that is NOT why this Sanctuary is so beautiful and inspiring today. As another former First Church minister Guy Lamothe loved to say, “You don’t GO to church, you ARE the church.” The single biggest factor in the rebeautification of this Sanctuary was, and continues to be, the dedication and hard work of our members, friends, and partners.

This morning we pause in the on-going labor of recovery to rededicate our sacred worship space and to express our deepest thanks and appreciation to those who came up with ideas and who spear-headed and/or directed the hands-on work, and all those who contributed to the various projects that have resulted in our renewed worship space. From those who swung hammers, to those who sat at sewing machines, to those who bent their backs carrying heavy loads, to those who gave money, to those who brought meals to the workers, all made significant contributions to our rebuilding.

I am reminded of an old story about a visitor to a European cathedral under construction in the Middle Ages. Speaking to a sculptor, a mason, and a carpenter, the visitor is told that statues are being carved, stonework is being laid, and pews are being built. Coming upon an old woman sweeping, the visitor asks what she is doing, and she replies proudly, “Why, I am building a cathedral!” Whatever it is that you did, however small you might consider it, you helped rebuild this Sanctuary.

This is no time for us to rest on our laurels, to think that anything is done, finished, and complete. This is a time to rededicate ourselves as a congregation for the work that still lies ahead. There is much to be done, and we are the ones to do it – with the help and support of UUs around the country, and with the contributions of contractors and licensed professionals, certainly, but it will be our heads and hands and hearts – and backs and wallets – that will do much of what remains to be done.

“Dedicate” comes from a Middle English word meaning to “proclaim.” Its primary definition is to set apart for religious or sacred purposes. In this service, we proclaim again our determination to use this spot, this space, for purposes sacred to us. This Sanctuary is holy to us, not because of some outside force or supernatural being, but because it is OURS by what has happened inside.

We have lived our lives in this space. We have argued over it, passionately discussed in it, laughed and cried in it, worked til we ached in it, danced in it, ate in it, sold Christmas trees in it, named our children, united with our partners, and mourned those we love who have died in it. We’ve poured our creativity and our money into it. Some of us have even slept in it a few times. And we have worshiped in it more times than we can count.

May our words and our deeds in our renewed and rebeautified Sanctuary show to the world our commitment to the values enshrined in our liberal faith, and may we find ways to re-energize ourselves for the work that lies ahead. AMEN – ASHE – SHALOM – SALAAM – NAMASTE – BLESSED BE!