First Unitarian Universalist Church of New Orleans
The Rev. Melanie Morel-Ensminger
Sunday, September 18, 2011
“Rise up, O flame.” We sang these words for our Meditation this morning. Some UU congregations use this round as a ritual way of lighting the chalice every Sunday. Ever since the tradition of lighting a chalice as a way to begin a worship service and other sacred time, during the mid-1960s, a clear and visible flame, rising up out of a chalice or other container, has been a holy symbol to us Unitarian Universalists.
It seems inevitable that we religious liberals would take up somehow with fire. As far back as there have been humans, fire has been sacred to us. Of the four ancient symbols once thought of as the elements of all life and health – earth, air, water, and fire, it is the latter that has stayed consistently consecrated across religious and cultural boundaries. Not all religions have sacred earth, or ways of sacralizing the air, but just about every spiritual path lights a flame.
At the most basic level, fire sheds light and lends warmth; it cooks food. It purifies and removes contaminants. It trans-forms chemically, making one thing into another thing. But like the other sacred elements, fire has its destructive aspect. Indeed, if you Google the theme of this year’s Annual Budget Drive, “Feed the Flame,” you will find that the vast majority of citations are negative, referring to rage as the fire that is fed.
For us, however, the flame is a positive symbol, standing for community and connection, for passion and dedication and commitment. Cherie LeBlanc’s powerful design shows many hands reaching forward, adding their bit, to make the flame grow higher.
In my letter to the congregation printed in the ABD brochure, I recalled a scene found in many fictional depictions, both movies and books. It is of a group of early humans, or human-like creatures, seated in a circle at night, and then one of their number bringing fire to them. On the ABD committee, we actually had a discussion of whether I was remembering right about such a scene in the iconic movie “2001: A Space Odyssey.” In the end, we decided it didn’t matter. Whether we’re exactly right or not, nearly of us can recall a scene like this. Maybe it’s even atavistic, an almost-memory from our earliest ancestors. Somewhere deep inside, we remember: Our community was once cold and dark and hungry and afraid, and then there was fire. Things got better, we got stronger, and we were no longer afraid.
This community has been our own metaphorical dark cold night. There were many outside our congregation who counted us out – but we never did. We drew closer, even when our symbolic campfire was held together by telephone wires. Our many hands, and the hands of sisters and brothers around the country, have fed the flame of our renewal.
We fed the flame of our renewed life with our own hard work, our ideas, our commitment. We fed the flame with contributions of our time and our money. To feed that flame, we learned new skills – skills in some cases that we never expected that we’d need to have, and perhaps never even wanted to have – and applied them to our building and to our ministry. To feed the flame, we held countless meetings and thoroughly aired every point presented.
To feed the flame, we told our friends about what was happening here – that despite all the work needed on our complex, this congregation is doing vital, important work in metro New Orleans, partnering with disadvantaged communities of color, with immigrant workers, and with the other two UU congregations, and that the work is being done from a strong foundation in worship and education and commitment to liberal spirituality. To feed the flame, we have cared for one another in times of illness, accident, loss, or other hard times.
While it has taken longer than we wished, we as a religious community are poised on the brink of a bright and shining new chapter in our congregational life. This year, we will complete the first of three phases of the new requirements of the improved state building codes, and we will open the Community Kitchen that we will share with the New Orleans AIDS Task Force. Our Sanctuary will have its own electricity, enhancing opportunities for congregational events as well as rentals. And we will finally have in hand a Permanent Certificate of Occupancy, ensuring our stay in the building and allowing us to move ahead with our plans and vision.
Everything we do as a congregation, from our quality worship, our excellent religious education for children and youth, our wonderful music program, our wider urban ministry, our care for one another, our relationships with our sister UU congregations here in New Orleans and around the country, and even our fun times together, like the Fellowship Dinner last night, rest on a foundation created by the Annual Budget Drive.
Every member and committed friend contributes regularly, as they can, to support the church operating budget, which then pays the salaries of our professional staff (the minister, music director, religious education director, and nursery care worker), as well as paying for our support staff, the church sexton, bookkeeper, and rental manager. The budget pays the mortgage to the bank on the building, the insurance premiums, and all the utilities bills. The budget covers purchases of worship supplies, sheet music, and Sunday School supplies. In smaller amounts, it contributes to our social justice ministry. The budget is the catalyst for all that we do as a church, and makes possible our life together.
We realize that we cannot just take the total goal of the ABD campaign and divide it up by the number of every single member and committed friend. We know that not every individual or every household can contribute the same amount – but every individual or every household can contribute some-thing, and every contribution is important to the whole. Every contribution feeds the flame of our life together.
My spouse and I have considered our commitment to First Church’s health and future, and considered also our personal situation. Despite our reduced circumstances from the closure of the nightclub where Eric worked, we have increased the percentage of our giving from my First Church salary plus housing to 5%. We do this as a sign of our hope and commitment. I hope that each and every one of you will give serious thought to increasing your contribution as best you can, to help feed the flame. Welcome the call from your Visiting Steward; it’s a chance to share stories of what First Church means to us.
When the flame is fed, it rises up and is more visible. It gives more light and more warmth. It truly becomes a beacon. Feed the flame, and let our light shine! The city, and the world, need First Church, and we need each other. AMEN – ASHE – SHALOM – SALAAM – NAMASTE – BLESSED BE!