Ministry Musings

January 2010

People go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.

So here’s an interesting riddle for you: what do the words above and the Puritans who founded this church have in common? The answer is Augustine of Hippo, the great Bishop from North Africa who is one of the major intellectual influences on how the West developed. Augustine started off life as a pagan philosopher and “playboy” and became one of the most influential theologians and writers in history. Later thinkers influenced by him are almost too many to count: everyone from Thomas Aquinas to Martin Luther to John Calvin, to say nothing of more modern thinkers such as Bertrand Russell and Frederick Nietzsche.

His major work was The City of God, which he wrote as the Roman Empire was crumbling. In this landmark work, he used the metaphor of the journey and argued that each of us in this life must make a spiritual pilgrimage from the City of Man to the City of God, from selfishness to compassion, from evil to good. He also penned one of the first autobiographies as a literary form while a monk in Hippo, whose sentiments and writing leaps off the page almost as if it were written last year. The words above are one of many quotable excerpts from his autobiography, Confessions. (Another one is his famous and oh so human prayer contained therein: “O God, give me chastity and continence, but not yet!”)

And what does all of this have to do with our Puritan founders? We know that the original settlers carried very few books over by boat in 1629. After all, there was not a lot of room for such extravagances as a library aboard a small, wooden ship. However, one of the volumes that did make the voyage was a 1617 edition of The City of God, along with a copy of John Calvin’s Institutes of Religion, himself greatly influenced by Augustine. The notion of the soul’s journey has been an abiding image down through the ages and centuries.

With that in mind, we will be celebrating journeys old and journeys new this winter. On Sunday, January 17, we will host an Archives Open House for members and friends who would like a tour of our collection. Then, a few weeks later, I will begin a brief five session program on Spirituality and Autobiography, in which participants will be invited to write a small piece about our own journey and read short excerpts from other writers about their spiritual path – including Augustine’s. To sign up, speak with me or call the office.

I wish you much peace and happiness at the turning

December 2009

Several years ago, we began something of a counter-cultural tradition here at the First Church. It may be one of the more socially radical things we do each year. Ten or so days before Christmas, we gather at the church in the early evening, bundle up in scarves and hats, and venture out into the dark and cold to do the unthinkable: sing to strangers. We go caroling. Armed with flashlights and rumpled songbooks, we attempt to bring a few tidings of great joy, or at least a little bit of good cheer.

Every year it begins the same way. We arrive at the church, circumspect and unsure if this is a good idea. We nervously check our flashlights, hand out songbooks and wanly practice a few carols before we embark. Then, we step out into the cold night air and start walking down the street looking for a suitable mark. That’s when the magic of the night slowly commences. Ringing a doorbell, we huddle together on the sidewalk and begin to sing: “Silent night, holy night...” Sometimes a light pops on or a door cracks open, with someone nervously listening from within. Sometimes a face peeks out from behind a curtain not sure what to do. Every once in a while, a light flips off, which has the effect of making us sing louder.

There is something elemental and ancient inherent in singing good tidings to people you don’t always know. A sort of leap of faith is required to do this in our distrustful day and time. Caroling runs up against our sense of tight-lipped propriety here in New England. (The Puritans frowned upon it, after all.) And yet, after an hour or so of caroling, with fingertips and noses numb from the cold, one can’t help but feel that the possibility for lasting peace and joy in this life involves moments and opportunities like this. How often do any of us have the chance to bring tidings of comfort and joy – if only for a moment? If there is to be peace in this world, I suspect it involves moments of such revelry, if only to remind ourselves of the ties that bind and the blessings we all share. Good will must be shared, not just quietly considered.

This December is chock full of events and holiday mirth at the First Church, including an evening of caroling, (which always concludes with sipping hot soup by the fire in the Cleveland Room). I hope you all can join us to celebrate the season. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah and Good Yule!

See you in church,

Jeff

November 2009

For the last four years, I have had a somewhat usual way of reminding myself to be thankful. Every six months, my wife and I take our youngest son to Children’s Hospital in Boston for an evaluation of his heart. Each time, it is more or less the same routine: driving into Boston, hurriedly parking the car (since we always seem to be running late for these appointments), rushing into the lobby of Children’s Hospital, and then dashing up to the second floor Pediatric Cardiology Unit. Our typical visit usually lasts three hours or so. We then we make our way back down to the lobby of the hospital at a much slower pace, sometimes stopping for lunch.

None of this is especially noteworthy except for one key observation that can almost be assumed: we are not alone. Children’s Hospital is teeming with children and their families. Some are happy. Some are sad. Some look elated, others forlorn. What I can tell you for sure is that nothing makes you feel more thankful for your lot in life than spending a few minutes in the lobby of this hospital. Each time I leave that place, I am impressed yet again with the quality of the staff and thoroughly thankful for my life and situation. If you have hands and feet that work, if you can walk and talk, if you think of yourself as reasonably put together and bright, then you are truly blessed. Not everyone can take those things for granted.

Gratitude is not so much a state of being as it is an orientation, a mindset. The Roman statesman Cicero once observed that it was the mother of all other virtues. It is a fundamental recognition that our lives, our health and whatever good fortune we possess are gifts – not givens. Sure, we all benefit from hard work and individual initiative, but autonomy is a temporary stage (or ruse) in this life. When we take a moment to consider all the many things that we take for granted and we did not actually earn, the realization can be staggering. In a very real way, I think authentic spirituality cultivates this perspective as we go about our lives: the profound recognition of how dependent we all are on forces and developments over which we have little or no control. Most of the time, this leads us to count our blessings AND to be a blessing to those around us.

We have a busy November here at the First Church including lectures and pancake breakfasts and special services. I wish you a joyous season for Giving Thanks.

October 2009

I just paid my life insurance premium for the year – a sobering moment for any parent. This is not a small amount of money but it buys me the piece of mind and security that my family will be cared for in the event that I should die in the next twelve months. Of course, this is highly unlikely, which is why there is a business called insurance. According to actuarial tables I consulted recently, the average man my age has only a .002026 chance of dying; i.e. approximately 2 out of every 1000 men my age might pass away in the next year. However even knowing the unlikely odds (and that I eat salads and wear my seatbelt), I still nonetheless sent in my insurance premium. In a sense it would be wrong not to do so if I can. Certainly it would be irresponsible. When calculating risk, one must make a distinction between likelihood and severity and plan accordingly.

Oddly enough, I delve into this because our country is currently debating a climate change bill. There are very powerful interests in this country who maintain that we cannot afford to reduce our emissions and confront climate change. They claim it would harm the economy and be too expensive. And yet, the largest scientific group ever formally assembled to study anything (the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, who won the Nobel Prize for their work in 2007), has declared that the world’s industrialized nations must reduce their carbon emissions drastically (i.e. 80% or more) within 40 years. If we fail to do this, preeminent scientists like James Hansen at NASA believe that we are consigning our children and future generations to potentially dire circumstances. According to the best estimates of scientists who look at this, the risk of runaway climate change with an 8 degree (Centigrade!) increase in average temperatures is approximately 1%. Maybe higher. And yet there are huge interests in our country claiming that we cannot afford to address the issue, including the US Chamber of Commerce; a stance that I believe will be regarded by future generations as irresponsible and immoral.

Our country and world is confronted with a gathering storm that could potentially devastate our way of life. There is 1% chance that this might occur and there are people claiming that we cannot do anything to respond. I have just one question: Don’t these people have life insurance. Don’t they understand the principle of protecting oneself from catastrophic events or changes?

On Saturday, October 24, the First Church will be participating in 350.org’s International Day of Climate Action. Among other things, we will be joining in a rally at 2:00 PM at the Essex Street Mall. We will also ring our church bell 350 times starting at 3:00. The goal of the day is to raise awareness about the importance of the U.S. passing a strong climate change law this year and moving our country onto a more sustainable path that will help the world achieve atmospheric CO2 concentrations of 350 ppm. I invite all of you to come and join us as we participate in this historic movement. We each have a stake in ensuring the future and insuring our world.

See you in church.

September 2009

Year ago, I felt almost embarrassed about it. Early in my ministry here in Salem I would often receive unsettling, quizzical looks when I mentioned the fact that my church took a break in July. I was practically apologetic as I tried to explain to people why the church was “closed” for a month. Inevitably, it seemed like someone would ask with a sardonic grin: “Why, does God take a vacation?” I would nervously shrug my shoulders and smile.

Trying to explain our church calendar to someone not familiar with the rhythms of a New England seaside town can be a little challenging. In other regions and traditions, the idea of closing the church for a month is outrageous, even anathema. Here in Salem, it just makes sense. Traditionally the height of the summer season corresponded with the time of peak labor. It was during the warmer months when many of our members had the best opportunity to set their sails, or cast their nets, or sink their hoe in the stony topsoil around these parts. Summer was the time to get things done and prepare for the coming winter.

Admittedly, things have changed since that bygone era. Even today, however, all of us benefit from the change in routine ushered in (hopefully) by summer. Worship, reflection and contemplation occur in myriad ways and places. The magic and spectacle of a New England summer are best admired and appreciated outdoors: the scent of basil in a garden patch, the rush of a starboard breeze, the feeling of sand under our bare feet, the crack of a serve or the whoosh of a drive. Summer smacks of charmed possibility even it does not always materialize. There is value in breaking from our regular routine and finding time to recharge, regroup and re-create.

In a way I think this pause makes the resumption of our “regularly scheduled” existence all the more satisfying. As we gather together once again, fresh from our fields and boats and outings, we find that we have plenty to celebrate and to share. The wonder of the summer break can inform and enliven our religious life. It can be a source of inspiration and a reminder of how fortunate we are to live where we do. And so these days, I don’t worry at all about what anyone thinks of the church’s summer break. I encourage people to have a great summer and to find a religious community that encourages wonder and awe – both inside and outside.

Sunday, September 13 is Homecoming Sunday. As you will see inside, we have a terrific fall planned here at the First Church. I hope you can join us.

See you in church,

June 2009

Three weeks ago I attended a conference for The Climate Project in Nashville, TN. Founded by Al Gore two and half years ago, this is a group of 1,500 people from all over the world whom Mr. Gore has trained to deliver an updated, slightly more technical version of his now famous slideshow about global warming and the climate crisis. I am proud to say I am one of those people trained by Mr. Gore and I was proud to be one of the approximately 350 people in attendance at this conference in May.

Among the highlights of this trip was having the opportunity to listen to a presentation by Dr. Rejendra Pachauri, the head of The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. The IPCC was the co-recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize with Mr. Gore and they are an international organization of some 1,500 scientists who have conducted the most comprehensive scientific assessment of the data pertaining to changes in our climate. It is not an exaggeration to state that they are the largest scientific body ever formally assembled to study anything. (Their findings can be found at www.ipcc.ch/).

It was amazing and sobering to listen to Dr. Pachauri state that we are living in a five to ten year window of time during which the largest emitters of CO2 must reduce their emissions. If we do not we are potentially consigning ourselves to runaway climate change that could result in a dramatic collapse in the natural systems that support over six billion people on this planet. Drinking water shortages, an increase in sea levels, the collapse of major fish populations in the world’s oceans, and environmental refugees on a scale never before encountered in human history are all distinct and real possibilities in the next 30 to 60 years if the wealthy countries of the world do nothing. And right now, that is what we are on track to do, for all practical purposes. Simply increasing our level of recycling (for example) is not even close to the scale of response that is required.

There is a huge disconnect between the warnings by the overwhelming majority of the world scientific community and the policies being proposed by our government. It’s actually breathtaking. We need to reduce our CO2 emissions in this country by 80% or more in less that 40 years time. This requires a society wide response that is almost unprecedented in our nation’s history. “Almost,” however, is the key word.

Some of you might remember what occurred on December 7, 1941. It was the day that United States was attacked by Japan at Pearl Harbor. It resulted in a huge, overwhelming, unprecedented response by the United States. People began conserving resources. They planted Victory Gardens. Factories retooled their assembly lines to produce bombers, not cars. I remember my grandparents describing the sense of resolve that grabbed hold of the country on Pearl Harbor Day.

Well, in a sense, we need another Pearl Harbor, except this time, we need the enemy is our huge carbon footprint as a nation. This time the enemy is our ridiculously high dependence on fossil fuels. The challenge we face is to find a way to maintain our standard of living while living more lightly on this planet. Unlike 1941, we need to declare war on our consumption. The good news is that we can and this is beginning to take hold in certain parts of our society. Even so, I see nowhere close to the urgency and concern that is necessary and appropriate. Indeed, when I begin to describe what our country is up against, I am quite often met with expressions that would indicate I am either crazy or far too radical.

I suspect in the next ten years, more and more of us will realize the challenge we are up against. I hope and pray that is the case. Going forward, it is our patriotic duty to find ways to reduce our use of fossil fuels and pursue renewable alternatives. Going forward is our moral responsibility to find a way to live more lightly and sustainably on this planet, our only home.

On June 13, the City of Salem will host its 2nd Annual Green Fair at The Old Town Hall. There you will find a huge amount of ideas and vendors for “going green.” I wish you a happy – and low carbon - summer season.

See you in church,

May 2009

A couple of years ago, I had a somewhat unique experience in the local Home Depot. I was standing at the Business Services Desk inquiring about setting up a business account for the church. I was handed a one page application that asked the typical sorts of things one would expect: name of business, address, phone number, contact person, etc. There was one item on the form that gave me pause, however: “year business was founded.” After a moment’s thought, I figured I should not lie. (It would look bad as a minister!) So I wrote down, “August 6, 1629.” I then wrote down our State ID number, signed the form and handed it to the clerk behind the desk. This gruff looking man turned his back to me and sat down at a computer to enter my data. After a minute I heard a guffaw of laughter. “Sir, is this date for real?” he asked. The computer won’t even accept it.”

“Sorry,” I said. “We were founded before computers.”

Sometimes being part of an almost 400 year old institution presents unexpected opportunities for amusement. Every once in while, I find myself amazed at the longevity of this church, especially when I try to explain it to others. I think part of the reason The First Church has been around as long as it has is that it is a community that remains relevant and dynamic. We have been able to inspire, motivate, chasten and encourage generations of members. It has nothing to do with our building (which is only a paltry 173 years old, by the way). It has little to do with our hymnals or even our location. Rather, it has everything to do with our covenant, the simple promise we make to each other during each service. Human beings are promise making (and sometimes promise breaking) animals. We need places and groups that inspire us to make good and decent commitments in this life and then live in a way that best allows us to keep them. That in a sense is what our covenant does. That is what our “walk together” is all about. When we gather to worship something greater than ourselves, when we collectively acknowledge the creating, sustaining and transforming power amidst our lives (be it God or some other word we might prefer), when we come together to effect some common good in our community, we are, in effect, continuing our “walk together.” This has been the abiding and hallmark source of this church’s ability to remain relevant in a world that is always changing.

On Sunday, May 3, we will have our Annual Meeting. We will gather to review reports, discuss current issues and vote upon the business of the church. We will also elect new members and church leaders. From one perspective, this is nothing new or remarkable. After all, we have been holding meetings like this for almost four centuries. From another point of view, however, this meeting is extraordinary: it is a celebration of our community and proof that our religious community remains vibrant and engaged. This “walk together,” that we all commit to as members of this church, is what makes this day very straightforward but also quite remarkable.

See you in church,

April 2009

At least twice in the last ten years I have performed an unusual action during the “Children’s Moment” on Sunday mornings. As most of you know, each week there is a time early in the service when the children are called forward and I tell them a story or lead them in a discussion while the congregation listens. On two separate occasions in the last decade, I have done the following: I announce to the children that I am about to perform what I consider to be “a religious and spiritual act.” Then, as quietly and ceremoniously as possible, I proceed to a nearby pew and pull out a lamp with a shade. Removing the shade, I slowly unscrew the incandescent light bulb. I then reach behind the Communion Table and pull out a compact fluorescent light bulb (a CFL) and screw it in.

The first time I performed this “ritual” almost ten years ago, I was met with more than a few snickers from the kids and plenty of eye rolling from the adults. More recently, the reaction was more solemn and quieter. Performing such a mundane task in such a ceremonial way playfully and powerfully reinforces the new reality in which we find ourselves as a community and as a race. Starting now, our religion must embrace living more lightly on this planet. Beginning now, sustainability must become an essential part of our religion. I truly believe that going forward, any authentic spirituality must encourage people to live wisely and consume modestly.

We are about to live through a period of dramatic change in the history of our country. According to the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, those of us in this country must reduce our emissions of greenhouse gases by more than 80% by 2050. If we do not do this, we are consigning our children and their children to a potentially bleak world. The kids who attend this church currently are members of the generation who will be forced to face this challenge head on. We should be preparing them to think about their lives and their lifestyles in a way that will inspire and embolden them in the years ahead with the changes they will have to make.

April 22 is Earth Day, a holiday that is only growing in importance. I hope all of us will take this as an opportunity to consider making some changes and saving some energy. Replace a few light bulbs. Install a programmable thermostat in your house. Have your furnace tuned up or perhaps updated. But more than that, find a way to connect the life of your soul to the life of this planet. Read up on the latest dire findings about the climate. Go to www.myfootprint.org and measure your ecological “footprint.” Plant a garden. Talk to your neighbors about what you are doing (even the one who watches Fox News and doesn’t believe in Climate Change!) Spirituality is not just about going to church on Sundays. It’s about recognizing interconnection and finding a way to serve in this life. It can even involve something as simple as changing a light bulb. I’ve seen it done.

We have a huge month of festivity and fun in store at the First Church with the Easter and Passover Seasons. I hope you can come and be a part of it. See you in church,

March 2009

You are dust, and to dust you shall return. Genesis 3:19

These words from the Bible are the inspiration behind the well-known ritual performed in many churches each year on Ash Wednesday, the official beginning of the season of Lent in the traditional church calendar. I can remember as a teenager during an evening service, standing in line waiting for the minister to “paint” on my forehead a bit of ashes and intone softly, “Remember that you are dust.” It actually is a very strange and somehow exhilarating experience to have someone look you in the eye and speak those words. It can inspire reflection about how short the time is that we have in this life. As it turns out, dust is both an amazing and daunting thing to be.

During this last month we celebrated the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin, that most famous of biologists. Among other things, we talked about how the insights from biology, cosmology and archeology have been assembled into a new “Common Creation Story.” The findings and key conclusions of science are now revealing for the first time how life on this planet came to be. One of the “chapters” to this 14 billion year long story tells us that our bodies and most of the elements on this planet are actually the debris and “dust” from first generation stars that exploded billions of years ago. In the process they created heavier elements (than just hydrogen and helium) including the carbon, nitrogen and oxygen that combine to form the blocks of all life. We literally are the products of ancient stardust. Who knew? In this sense, to be dust is amazing, even awe-inspiring.

But the writers of Genesis were implying something different I suspect when they mention dust. There is in many religious teachings this reminder of our mortality, the transient nature of our lives. We literally are beings that emerge and develop and live for relatively short periods of time. Our bodies emerge and then return to the earth from which they come. There is enormous wisdom in reminding ourselves periodically of this unavoidable verity. Ash Wednesday and Lent can do that for us by inspiring humility without humiliation. I personally regard this season as a reminder to take nothing for granted, to count my blessings, and find ways to “reconnect” with my world and myself.

We actually have several ways we are doing just that this month at the First Church. On Saturday, March 14, we will be hosting a conference on ecological sustainability and how we might move towards living more in balance with the earth, as individuals and as a society. In addition, we will be having a special communion service to mark the beginning of Lent on the first Sunday in March. We will pause to celebrate our lives and remember how exhilarating - and humbling - it is to be comprised of dust.

See you in church,

February 2009

The voice of the Lord cries to the…Can I forget the treasures of wickedness in the house of the wicked…? Can I tolerate wicked scalesa bag of dishonest weights? Your wealthy are full of violence; inhabitants speak lies,tongues of deceit in their. Micah 6:9-12

With all of the headlines of the last month about corruption and dishonesty amongst America’s business elite, I decided to conduct a bit of informal research. At the Tuck School at Dartmouth, there is one course taught on ethics, an elective. At Harvard Business School, a quick review of their core curriculum for the MBA program reveals no class that deals explicitly with morality, though you can register for a course named “Managing the Modern Financial System.” At the Sloan School of Management at MIT, there are actually two classes offered on ethics, again both being an elective option for second year MBA students. The University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business at least lists “Ethics and Responsibility” as part of its “core curriculum,” though it is unclear whether an actual course is offered.

These schools produce some of the most powerful and influential business leaders in the country, including our former President, who has an MBA from Harvard. In my recent attempts to understand the depth and breadth of our current financial crisis, it occurred to me that it might be interesting to look at how some of the people responsible for this mess were trained. I did not find any answers, but what became evident is that these schools place a premium on technical analysis and relegate considerations of ethics and the use of power to an afterthought.

We are living during a time when some of this country’s most wealthy and powerful think it is acceptable to enrich themselves and their associates while the Federal Government is spending more than $700 billion (to date) to clean up their mess. We are living amidst a financial system where the best and brightest honestly believed until very recently that it was acceptable to leverage themselves 30 to 1 and then risk that money in high stakes positions. There were a whole lot of “smart” people who got caught up in a culture of short-term profits, shameless promotion and greed. And we are literally going to be paying the price for this for the next 30 years.

It would appear that we are amidst a turning point when the rules and needs for modern life are changing and yet human nature and sin have not. Indeed if the words from the Prophet Micah from 2,700 years ago are any indication, nothing much seems to have changed. The only difference now seems to be that the stakes are higher: the number of individuals involved is far greater, the amount of money is far bigger, and most importantly, the number of victims is far larger.

Somehow we need to rediscover the lost notion of commonwealth, the idea that all us have a part to play in making our country and society a better place; that we are all interconnected and “in this same boat together.” Instead of analytically focusing on our own narrow interests, we need a whole lot more people willing to live with the larger needs of the country - even the world - in mind. Some would say that such a suggestion is silly idealism. I disagree. I think it is the beginning of an authentic spiritual path; i.e. attempting to take into consideration the needs others. In fact, it is the sort of thing that is taught in houses of worship and kindergartens all over the world. Perhaps the business schools and more of their graduates should pay attention!

February at the First Church holds many opportunities for community, reflection and fun. I hope you can come and be a part of it. See you in church,

Jeff

January 2009

Every year it seems like it gets more difficult and annoying. The amount of time required increases and the tools needed grow in number. One would think that opening presents on Christmas morning would be a delightful experience rather than a challenging chore. But that was before toy companies found a way to display their goods in new fangled packaging that practically requires a blow torch and the "jaws of life" to extract the truck or doll for gazing youthful eyes and hands. In the last five years, the way that toys are packaged / secured has become much more complicated and I find my frustrated amusement growing into a less playful concern. As I sat there on Christmas day with an array of knives, screwdrivers and scissors by my side, I was amazed at how involved and lengthy the process has become simply to open a box containing a child's toy - not to mention how much paper, plastic and metal wires are discarded.

I find myself wondering who puts these packages together. Given the number of wire twists and strategically placed pieces of packaging tape, it can't be done by machine alone. Clearly, there are people behind these packages (working away in China, no doubt) and a whole lot of wasted energy and material as well. And all of this is for the purpose of encouraging American consumers like me to purchase a toy. There seems to be an "escalation of arms" when it comes to toy packaging that is bizarre and just out right annoying.

Now why would a minister be writing about this in a column? (Even one with three children?) It has to do with sustainability and the moral imperative of moving towards generating less waste in our society, not more. It also has to do with salvation, or re-use as it were, a term that is central to both the mundane world of trash hauling and the more rarified world of theology. Most of the world's religions deal with methods for using the ordinary stuff of life in extraordinary ways, Christianity included. That is why we call it salvation, after all.

So as I sat there cutting and tearing away at the latest toy packaging, I couldn't help but wonder about what was wrong with this picture. We live on an earth with finite resources. More of us are becoming aware of the urgent need to reduce our ecological footprints (our material and energy consumption) significantly (to measure yours, go to www.myfootprint.org). And yet, here we all are generating more waste on one day in this country than some countries produce in a month or even a year. And we are being told that in order to jumpstart our economy, we need to consume more, not less. Our economic assumptions are at odds with the needs of our planet (and by extension ourselves). I suspect this may very well emerge as one of the biggest challenges for the next 50 years.

If sin can be defined as "missing the mark," than we as a culture are way off target in terms of our use of stuff, without even trying to be. I dare suspect in the coming years and decades, we all will become more aware of the moral obligation to reduce, reuse and recycle. Maybe some toy companies will get the message and see this as a marketing opportunity. After all, if YOU could purchase a toy whose limited packaging did not require a bolt cutter to open, would you buy it? At this point I know I would! Gladly.

We have a fun and engaging January planned at the First Church. I wish you all a happy, healthy and sustainable New Year. See you in church,

Jeff

December 2008

I used to find it odd that one of the most popular holiday movies of all time was about a small town banker contemplating suicide. I assume all of you are familiar with the ever-decent George Bailey in Frank Capra’s film It’s a Wonderful Life, starring the incomparable Jimmy Stewart. Originally released before Christmas in 1946, the film did poorly at the box office. While it received five Oscar nominations, it was mostly panned by the critics who thought it overly sentimental and unrealistic. In fact, the movie studios quickly forgot about the film, so much so that the copyright lapsed. This explains why television stations started showing it in the 1970’s, as it was royalty free programming around the holidays.

It was only then that people started to pay attention to the small town banker of Bedford Falls whose life was seemingly so unimpressive. Based on a short story “The Greatest Gift”, the film is really a fantasy tale about a man who is allowed to see what the world would be like had he never been born. By doing so, George Bailey, and by extension all of us, realize that many of our most important contributions to this world arise not from our grand ambitions but from our everyday kindnesses. George is a local banker who sees that while he may not have maximized the profits of his business, he had accomplished something far greater. Through this, Frank Capra seems to be reminding his viewers that capitalism and markets are financial systems that work best when they serve a higher cause or purpose, or at least are directed by people who do. As George Bailey confronts the greedy and oh so “scrooge-like” Mr. Potter in the film, we see the ways that unchecked greed can ruin a community and a family. We also realize that decency and goodness really do matter in this life.

Perhaps for this reason, I have found myself thinking this year more than usual about this classic film. Our country is facing the gravest economic crisis since the 1930’s. The gap between the rich and the poor is skyrocketing. People are losing their jobs and homes. Certainly part of the blame lies in an unregulated financial system that takes no consideration of the common good or justice. We seem to have lost our sense of community and commonwealth. The magic of a film like It’s a Wonderful Life is that it reminds us of the very American virtues of egalitarianism and community. Like the prophets of old, the film reminds us that the coming Kingdom of God requires not just angels but good hearts and decent people willing to stand up for what it right. I dare suspect that in the days and years ahead, the wellbeing of our society will be determined by how well we can keep our capitalist system within moral limits- and how well we can help - and not hinder - the George Bailey’s of the world, on whom we all depend.

We have a wonderful December planned here at the First Church. I hope you will find a time to join us. See you in church,

Jeff

November 2008

There is something new being observed down on Margin Street on Wednesday afternoons. For several years now, this has been the appointed time each week when the Salem Mission would open the doors to its food pantry. Anyone who lives locally can show up and, after registering, receive a bag of groceries. Five years ago the number of people signed up amounted to about 850 households. However, this figure has shot up in the last few years, with the number of families accessing the pantry going from 1,200 to now well over 1,600. These days the lines on Wednesdays are longer, too, ` with more than 100 people typically cued up looking for some help. As a result, the pantry is actually having a hard time keeping its shelves stocked. In the last month, they have run out of food not once but twice.

This is not the only change. Staff members have noticed that there are now many more people pulling up in cars and SUV’s looking for assistance. In years’ past most of those who lined up for food were on foot or pulling a cart. Now you see families pulling up with children in car seats in search of something to eat.

The Salem Mission sometimes gets a bad reputation among people who live nearby. For a long time, some locals assumed that all the Mission did was help a few drunks and addicts get off the street in the colder months. While that in of itself is a noble mission (especially if you are helping these people to a better life), it can sometimes cloud the larger picture of who the Mission serves. While the Mission does not keep formal data about this, it is clear that its food program has impacts that extend far beyond its walls. As energy and healthcare prices have skyrocketed, as the cost of housing has rapidly increased, as people have gotten caught up in the sub prime mortgage crisis, it is relief agencies like The Mission that can play a small but crucial role in helping a family avert the downward spiral into homelessness. And make no mistake: homeless families are increasing here in the Commonwealth. According to the most recent data, the number of families living in emergency shelters across the state has risen to just above 2,000. Included in this figure are about 4,000 children and youth, with half of them, some 2,000, under the age of six.

It almost goes without saying then that any support for the Mission goes much further than we might think or believe. Yes, it helps them to expand their excellent case management and outreach programs for homeless individuals. But it also enables them to make a small but crucial difference in the lives of many local families who are thankful that they have been able to stay in their homes for a few more months.

As we enter the season of counting our blessings, I hope we all will remember the small but powerful ways we can be a blessing to others. The times are tough and are going to get tougher. The most important blessings of all might be the ones we take for granted such as housing, warmth and food. This month and next we will have several ways for our church community to help local people in need, including a canned food drive on Thanksgiving Sunday. This Thanksgiving, I hope we all will find ways not simply to give thanks but to be a blessing.

See you in church,

Jeff

October 2008

Does anyone else wish the prophet Amos was around these days? You remember Amos, no doubt. He was the country shepherd turned prophet, called by God to witness to the vagaries and corruptions of those ancient Jews in the “big city,” Samaria. He walked into town and denounced their pretense, their drink and their wealth. He condemned their corrupt business practices and their exploitation of the poor. In one of his classic tirades he uttered the famous line “but let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.” (5:24)

I thought of Amos this last week as I, like all of you, watched the historic events of the last month. One of the greatest financial crises in history is unfolding before our eyes. As I listened to the debates about what should be done and who was responsible, I could not help but wonder what has happened to us as a country. The amount of greed and opportunism and entitlement that led to this boondoggle is breathtaking. Perhaps I should not be surprised but I am.

Now I delve into current events in this column rarely and carefully, but for the sake of posterity I cannot resist. Perhaps it is my studies in public policy at Tufts that has emboldened me. Our country is about to pass a $700 billion bail out package that would essentially shore up and recapitalize the financial firms that got us into this mess in the first place. Amidst the debates and reports and commentaries, rarely do we hear about the more than one million people who have lost their homes due to foreclosure and the million more who very well might. Rarely do we hear about the huge growth in predatory lending in the last ten years and the proliferation of sub-prime loans. These home loans are the basis of the mortgage-backed securities packaged and sold by the same companies who now want a bailout from the government.

Please don’t get me wrong: I am all for providing stability to our financial system, but I can’t help but question some of the solutions being proposed, in terms of their efficacy and fairness. I wonder why we do not hear more proposals having to do with helping homeowners who got themselves in too deep with a sub-prime, adjustable rate mortgage. The one popular argument I have heard against this is it is the homeowner’s fault and they need to suffer the consequences.

In the 1930’s, when the New Deal was enacted, part of it involved programs that allowed financially strapped homeowners to restructure their loans with their banks. This allowed people to hold onto their properties and permitted banks to know with certainty they had a dependable, albeit slightly smaller, revenue stream to use. Where, I ask you, is such a proposal today? If the mind-numbingly complex mortgage backed securities created in the last ten years by Wall Street are the main cause of our current financial mess, then why are we are not looking to shore up the one thing we know for sure they are based on: home mortgages.

The terms of some of these loans are unconscionable, with teaser interest rates that begin at 5% and then race up to 11 or 12%. How many of us, I ask you, would be able to stay in our homes if we were faced with a similar situation? While some of these people had no business taking out these loans, the banks had no business approving them. Why is it that the only ones we are concerned about now are the banks?

Like I said, sometimes I wish the prophet Amos were around. I think at times like this we need not just stability but also a little equity and a sense of justice. Economies are more than just economic activity. They serve a larger purpose in a commonwealth, a term that we don’t hear very often anymore. I hope that our church and many others like it are places where this realization is kept alive and well.

We have an amazing October planned here at the First Church, with special services, films and programs galore. I hope you will find time to join us. See you in church.

Jeff

September 2008

“Hello, my name is Andrew.” Those are the words I heard as I hurried into a local YMCA recently to get in a quick work out. I was busy. I had to pick up my daughter in 50 minutes and I planned to storm into the gym and speed off on the first available treadmill. Like many folks rushing through their day, I was not really paying too much attention to those who were around me. I had an agenda and was looking to execute my tightly fit plan. I am sure none of you can relate…

That is when this voice, this small pleasant voice, pierced my self-important, frenetic pace of an afternoon. “Hello,” he said. “My name is Andrew. Welcome to the Y.”

For a moment I was startled. Why was this person introducing himself to me? Doesn’t he see that I am in a hurry? I then looked up and saw a young man smiling at me and handing me a towel. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Jeff – and thanks for the towel.” For some reason, that simple interaction made me realize that I was not just entering a building to work out; I was entering a community. Too often we forget that.

I think we all need a place where we are so comfortable and so secure that we are happy to welcome people and even introduce ourselves. Amidst the frenetic, goal-driven culture in which we live, a simple hello can be startling, even daring. Simply greeting someone and smiling can be such a good reminder about the many communities of which we are a part and are a part of us.

I would like to think that the First Church is one of those places where people feel comfortable enough to offer a few daring “hellos” to those visiting for the first few times. Over the years that I have served here, I think we most definitely have become a friendlier place, where visitors are greeted warmly and where old friends are embraced.

Sunday, September 7 is Homecoming Sunday, when we return to our “normal” schedule after the summer season. I hope many of you can join us for worship, for singing, for coffee and – first and foremost – for simply greeting one another. A simple smile and hello can sometimes be a real gift.

See you in church,

June 2008

I met a little, black cat recently. His name is Nemo. He is unusually shy and has to eat every few hours because of a problem with his digestive track. Nemo was adopted by his current (and very loving) owners when he was about three months old. He had been found by the side of a road, wrapped up in a plastic bag with a fishhook through his mouth. At the animal shelter, he was cleaned up and given some antibiotics for the infection from the hook. Cleaning him up was easy part, however.

The moment Nemo was brought into his new lovely house by his adopted family, he scampered away down the stairs and hid in the basement. Finding some boxes and old lumber, he managed to secure himself in a place where no one could reach him. From this "fortress" he would then venture out periodically to snatch some water or food. The owners hardly ever saw him.

Slowly over time, Nemo learned that he did not always have to hide. After about six months, he would carefully sneak up into the house and even then outside. He began to eat more regularly and grew stronger and healthier. He realized that he could trust his new world.

All of us are born asking this same question: "Can I trust my world?" This inquiry is both existential and theological in nature. We are all born into a certain situation and context and our early life experiences frame our answers to this question. Not surprisingly, all of us require a certain amount of assurance, security and love just to grow in a healthy manner. And when we don't receive this, we can be left harmed and scared, sometimes for a long time.

I would like to think that our church is a place that safely and lovingly nurtures childhood. We are a community that welcomes children and encourages and inspires their parents and caretakers. It is one of the most important things we do collectively. As I often say during child dedication services, "our task is to give our children a world of peace and justice in which to grow." Part of our mission, then, is to help the little ones in our midst (and the big ones too!) to realize there are parts of their world that they can trust. For we know what can happen if they don't learn this: there are many Nemos running around our world, both on four legs and two.

This month we will be celebrating the work of our church school on Sunday, June 22. We will also hold up our ministry to children of all ages. I hope you will all will come and join us. See you in church,

Jeff

May 2008

I heard a question asked recently that I thought was helpful: If all of the sudden our church were to disappear, how many people would notice? That is to say how many people would be affected by its closure? In some ways the question cuts to the heart of what a church is and does. A church that is alive is reaching out beyond its walls and making a difference in the community. A church that is alive is energized to find new and fresh ways to make its message relevant and meaningful.

I can honestly report that we here at the First Church would have no problem answering the question in the affirmative. Our answer would be resoundingly yes: people would notice. We do make a difference people's lives. When I consider all of the initiatives and activities here at the First Church, when I note the many ways that our members work and volunteer in the community, I feel both happy and proud.

Our church is growing. We are becoming a more energetic and active community. We are, in short, acting like a liberal Christian UU church that has a story to tell. You sense it at fellowship hour. You experience it when we serve dinner at the Mission. You encounter it at the Pursuing Happiness discussion groups and the film nights that we host. We are becoming more mission driven and joyful. It is very rewarding to witness.

We also are finding our voice as a church and becoming clearer about our message, declaring that religion is not defined by correct belief but correct action: Deeds over Creeds, as they say. Religion does not require that we mindlessly accept dogma, but rather that we grapple honestly and authentically with the mysteries and challenges of this life and then find a way to serve and give back.

Last night we hosted a screening of "For the Bible Tells Me So," a documentary film that addresses the sometimes destructive and hurtful beliefs that people have with respect to homosexuality and the Bible. The film interviews family members as they grapple with trying to understand and accept a homosexual love-one in light of supposed Biblical teachings. Many people believe that the Bible states clearly that homosexuality is wrong. This is just not the case. I can't tell you how healing and powerful it was for some of the people who came to watch this film to hear this message. It was a real moment of healing for some. It was a real opportunity for ministry for this church.

Sunday, May 4 is our Annual Meeting. We will gather to discuss and vote upon the business of the church and elect officers and new members. We will also take a few moments to celebrate who we are as a church. I hope you can come and be a part of our activities.

See you in church,

Jeff

April 2008

My children and I used to take walks down by Derby Wharf and Salem Harbor. It’s one of the benefits of living in a seaside community. Derby Wharf is a half-mile long outstretch of rock beginning at the historic Customs House and culminating in a small lighthouse out in the Harbor. My kids used to love to walk along the beach at low tide picking out shells and shards of old pottery. That’s right: pottery.

It turns out that a little of Salem’s grand maritime past is discarded in the sand and gravel along Derby Wharf. Sailing vessels from the early 19th Century would pull up to this wharf and deliver their goods and wares to local merchants via the Custom’s House. Some of these goods were transported in clay containers and pots that would often be thrown away once their contents were offloaded. I am told that these pots would be cast down onto the rocks and beach near the wharf, breaking up into bits and pieces. I am sure the ship mates at the time could not have possibly imagined that their smashed pots and containers would become bits of treasure for local kids almost two centuries later.

It is experiences like this that make me realize a very fundamental truth about our lives: there is no such thing as trash. There are only items in our possession that we no longer wish to use for whatever reason. This verity is often overlooked as we go about our hectic, American existence. And yet, for most of our species history, the amount of trash we generated was relatively small and was imminently biodegradable. Not so now. In the last 100 years and especially during the last 50, the development of consumerism and a robust materials economy have made trash a mounting issue and concern (pun intended). This is true not only because of the amount of trash produced but also because of the discarding of synthetic chemicals for the first time into the environment. The average American household generates 7.25 pounds of trash per day and very little of that is actually recycled. Most goes to landfills and incinerators. Some of this trash and waste actually leaches into our natural environment and even our bodies. For an entertaining presentation about this, I highly recommend www.thestoryofstuff.com.

April 22 is Earth Day, increasingly a real holiday in this country. It is a day to remember the natural cycles of this planet on which all of life depend and consider anew the ways that we can reduce our impact. If you think about it, there really is a moral aspect to Earth Day: If there is no real such thing as trash, then we have to think anew about the ethics of piling up so much garbage for future generations. What legacy are we as a society leaving for people two hundred years hence? Why do I suspect that they will not regard our refuse as charming treasures? Going forward, there is enormous virtue in reducing, reusing and recycling. It’s good for our planet and it’s good for our souls.

There is lots of activity this month at the First Church. I hope you each can find time to participate. Happy Spring and Earth Day!

March 2008

Why does the date of Easter float around the calendar, varying from year to year? In some ways it really does not make a whole lot of sense. Unlike Christmas, this most ancient and important of Christian holidays cannot be pinned down to one definitive date. When Easter is celebrated very early (like this year), people often become curious about the origins of this unusual schedule.

This is especially the case when we remember that the "first Easter" occurred at the end of the Jewish Festival of Passover. In fact, in most languages the word for Easter is a derivation of the word for Passover (e.g. Pasque in French and Pascua in Spanish). Passover this year does not even begin until April 20, so how is it possible that we can celebrate Easter almost a month before?

The answer to this question entails a long and complicated history involving astronomy, calendar problems down through the centuries and church politics. Currently, Easter is designated here in the West as the first Sunday that falls after the first full moon that occurs after the vernal equinox (i.e. the first day of spring or March 21). This was the ancient method preferred by the Church in Alexandria, one of the most influential cities in the ancient Near East.

There have, of course, been other methods. The Orthodox churches in the East always followed the ancient Jewish calendar when it came to Easter, ensuring that is always fell just after Passover as it did in the Bible. To this day, that is how the Orthodox Easter is determined. Passover, incidentally, is always celebrated on a certain date in the Jewish calendar (14 Nisan). However, since the Jews follow a lunar calendar with a 19 year cycle and seven (yes, seven!) "leap months" interspersed therein, the date for Passover floats around our western calendar, though again always falling after the first day of spring.

If this is starting to confuse you then join the club. Personally I have decided that perhaps it makes sense to have a celebration of hope and resurrection less than easy to predict. Finding new hope and life is always unpredictable and contains elements of surprise. Perhaps the ancient "schedulers" were wiser than we thought: permitting the date of Easter to be elusive and difficult to calculate.

Resurrections both big and small never happen when we might expect them. Easter is about the possibility that the despair and sorrow we all sometimes feel in this life can be transformed in a way that we cannot entirely anticipate. Like life, Easter is slightly complex and hard to predict.

Easter is about as early as it can be this year, coming only two days after the first day of spring. I hope you will find the time to come and be a part of the celebration - even if it involves donning snow boots and mittens!

See you in church

February 2008

People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Up until a few years ago driving down a certain thoroughfare in Salem on Saturday afternoons could be an ordeal. As luck or Providence would have it, I found myself needing to drive along this street around 5:00 o’clock each week. And as luck or Providence would have it, there was always a snarl of traffic in one particular spot. The 4:00 p.m. Mass from a certain Roman Catholic parish was just getting out at that time, with dutiful churchgoers attempting to pull out of the parking lot.

It was not the traffic per se that was so frustrating, but rather the driving. I was always amazed at the aggressiveness and the rudeness of the drivers pulling out of the church parking lot. At first I found it kind of funny that people, having just participated in a worship service, would behave this way. After I while I just found it ironic and irritating. The goodwill generated during the Passing of the Peace clearly dissipated by the time folks made it out to the parking lot. It was a little slice of the human condition served up each week on Saturday afternoon in Salem.

I describe this scene not to poke fun at a particular church but rather to illustrate a very real aspect of our spiritual lives. Religious practices after a while can become rote and uninspiring, devolving into a mindless habit. Their influence can remain segmented from our everyday lives. This is a shame since the power of any spiritual path lies in its ability to inform and enliven one’s life, to push and prod and encourage one towards becoming a better person, inside the church and outside.

Every once in a while, I think all of us need a slight shock or change of pace to invigorate our religion. That is why I like the season of Lent in the traditional Christian calendar. These 40 days that lead up to Easter are a time in which we are invited to “shake things up” in our spiritual life. This can involve giving something up (such as a bad habit) or taking something on (such as a new activity or interest). It is a time when we are encouraged to push ourselves out of our “comfort zones” to which we have grown accustomed; to challenge ourselves as a way becoming more aware and conscious.

There are countless ways to do this. Read a book that speaks to your soul. Take up a hobby or volunteer for something. Try prayer or meditation. Work for a cause. Forgive someone or ask for forgiveness. Go to church and actually try to sing the hymns! Or even, heaven forbid, drive with a little more kindness. There are myriad ways that we can “jumpstart” our souls’ journey. The trick is to find something that makes you come alive and points you in the direction of appreciating your life and the lives of others.

Lent begins on February 6, Ash Wednesday. I invite you to consider adopting a practice for the season. And please, if at all possible, drive safely and courteously after church!

See you in church,

January 2008

Recently my eight year old son asked me a question that caught me off guard: “Daddy, what is Santa Clause going to do once the North Pole melts?” In the news recently had been reports about the melting of the Arctic ice sheet. The latest scientific predictions indicate that it could be fully broken apart (during the summer) in as little as 4 years, by 2012. This is the same Artic ice sheet that has been a major factor in maintaining the earth’s climate for the last three million years and probably a lot longer than that. Al Gore calls it the “earth’s air conditioner.”

I guess I should not be entirely surprised by my son’s question. After all, he occasionally listens to the news with me and he has heard me talking with others about climate change. If one hears reports about the impending break up of the polar ice sheets, it’s not too far of a stretch to surmise that Santa will need a new home. I suspect more than just Santa will.

It has been a year since I first traveled down to Nashville, Tennessee to train with Al Gore on global warming. I spent three days with Mr. Gore and 150 people from around the country learning about how best to present the urgency of the scientific reports in a compelling way. Our planet is warming at an alarming rate and there is a 95% chance or greater that human beings are responsible. In the last twelve months, I have traveled around the greater Boston area doing presentations on climate change to a variety of business, education and community groups. I thank the church for supporting me in this endeavor and giving me the time to do this.

I also thank the church for listening (sometimes tolerating?) my occasional comments and references to climate change during services and meetings. I know some of you think it is “a bit much” so I appreciate your good will and forbearance. Ministers of this church have a long tradition of speaking to the major issues of the day. When I went back and looked at our history, I saw men who held my office daring to speak out on the evils of slavery, on the virtues of religious tolerance, and on the importance of women’s and labor rights. At times this church has almost broken apart because of these stances and there are most definitely instances when some of my predecessors left as a result of their advocacy on an issue of the day. So I really do appreciate all of your support and encouragement.

If I am right, the challenge of climate change is going to become one of the single most important issues for the rest of our lifetimes and probably the next 100 years. I truly wish that were an overstatement but it is not. The largest scientific panel ever assembled to study anything, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, makes such a prediction, emphatically. (www.ipcc.ch/)

All of us in this church, city, state and country have a patriotic and moral responsibility to begin to reduce our energy consumption and our emissions of CO2. This cannot simply be an option for the well off and virtuous. It must be a countrywide response that enlists every citizen of our blessed country. According to conservative estimates, the United States needs to reduce its CO2 emissions by 80% by 2050. We actually probably need to do more than that. And if we don’t? I fear that our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren will truly hate us for the world we have left them.

This is part of what motivates me here in 2008 to risk being labeled a fool. I want to be able to look my children and grandchildren in the eye and say that when this country saw the enormous problem we created, we did something. All of us would benefit from imagining similar future conversations with our descendants. The golden rule extends not just across space, but also across time.

In the coming weeks and months, you will find in the newsletter a variety of information that provides practical tips for reducing your energy consumption and emissions. I can’t think of a better resolution in 2008 than to find a few specific ways to live more lightly on our small, beautiful planet. Here’s to the New Year.

See you in church,

December 2007

And he shall judge among many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. Micah 4:3

I recently came across a report published by the Joint Congressional Economics Committee of the United States (www.jec.senate.gov). Using a series of fairly well accepted assumptions, it estimated how much the United States has spent in its wars in Iraq and in Afghanistan, most of which is Iraq. The study concluded that these two military operations have cost American taxpayers some $1,600 billion so far, double what many official budgets peg as the number. The worst case scenario has that cost climbing to $3,500 billion in ten years time, which works out to be almost $50,000 for each American family.

Admittedly, the report is partisan as it was conducted by the Democratic members of Committee. But the assumptions used to determine these numbers were well accepted. If you take the total cost of the wars to date and add to that the current and projected costs of higher oil prices, interest on foreign debt and costs of veterans’ care and services, the numbers in the report start to become comprehensible. I am not sure, however, that they become understandable.

If you are like me you can’t resist asking yourself what else we as a country could have done with 1.6 trillion dollars – or even half that amount, if you believe that some of what has been spent was necessary. When we hear arguments against increasing children’s healthcare and education, when we see cuts in veteran’s funding, when proposals are dismissed which provide basic healthcare to all citizens in this country, one can’t help but dream if only for a moment about what would happen if our country chose to go in another direction.

In an odd way that is what this season of Advent and Christmas is all about: this temptation to dream. If there is any time of the year when we should let our highest hopes and ideals intrude upon our daily life and world, it is now. There is behind all of the hoopla and commercialism of Christmas, this hope that the world can be better than it is; that peace is not just a ridiculously silly notion, but an actual possibility, if ever so slight. From the ancient Hebrews tribes to the Greeks and Romans right down to the current “empire” in which we find ourselves, people have dared to dream of the possibility of a peaceable kingdom in which war is not learned anymore. This possibility, as naïve and foolish as it might be, lies as the heart of our Christmas celebrations. So go ahead: let your ideals get the best of you this season. If God works in this life at all, it is in people trying to make the world a better place.

I wish you all a very happy Christmas. See you in church,

November 2007

Some would call it a fierce love of autonomy. Others might label it arrogance and self-righteousness. All would agree that the First Church in Salem has exhibited a feisty independence streak that has been the inspiration for our proudest moments and our worst failings. As the original Puritan church founded on this continent, we pride ourselves on our long history of congregational governance. From our beginnings, we have fervently embraced a belief that we can improve our world and our selves - and that no one can tell us what to do!

Every once in while, this has gotten us into trouble. I refer of course to what most people not from Salem think of when our historic city by the sea is mentioned in conversation: witches. One of the darkest moments in this church’s and city’s history occurred during the summer of 1692. We all know the story and perhaps grow sick of hearing others talk about it and local merchants exploit it. Often I tell people that the real history of this church and city can be seen not in the events of the witch trials themselves, but in how succeeding generations responded.

Ever since this pivotal moment three centuries ago, our community has exerted its penchant for independence in defense of those who were persecuted and who needed a voice. In 1793, our own Rev. William Bentley was the first and only minister in Salem to welcome Roman Catholics to town. In the nineteenth century, this church would perform weddings for interfaith couples and baptize babies out of wedlock when no one else would dare. We helped a local Jewish minion purchase a building more than one hundred years ago - the beginning of the local synagogue, Temple Shalom. More recently, we began openly performing same-sex marriages three years ago with the legalization of gay marriage in Massachusetts.

Our independence streak is on display this fall, in both historic and contemporary forms. During November, the First Church will host a production of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, produced by the Salem Theater Company. This is the first time that this dramatic rendering of the Salem Witch Hysteria has ever been staged here at the church. (See inside for more information.)

And just few weeks ago, we hosted a vigil in support of same sex marriage and families. Billed as a service in which straight families could come out and show their support for their gay and lesbian counterparts, it was a night of child friendly speeches, music and candle lighting. My own children and others attended. The First Church spirit was truly on display. I was proud we could open our doors to such an affirming and uplifting program and add our voice to the growing chorus of communities who are taking a stand for Gay Marriage across our land. I consider this part of our legacy and very much in keeping with our history of promoting tolerance and understanding. Our independence streak is alive and well!

We have a busy few months in store. I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving and hope that all of us will find a few moments to count our many blessings.

See you in church,

October 2007

Last spring the church hosted an unusual fellowship hour. It was the brainchild of Charlene Long. A group of us had gathered to read The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan, an amusing and all encompassing critique of our country’s modern food industry. Pollan’s describes in detail how large-scale agriculture has become something of a mechanized “leviathan” that requires massive amounts of oil, fertilizer and pesticides to operate. Food purchased in a grocery store has traveled on average some 1600 miles from original source to our dinner plates. There is a growing sense that a food distribution system that is wholly dependent on petroleum is not a wise long-term plan, especially since we need to reduce our consumption of oil by some 80% in order to slow down and address climate change.

So there is a growing movement to do something radical: shop locally. Buy from stores and outlets that sell local food, thus reducing the amount of energy required bring it to market. This idea has slowly turned into something of a movement in the last twelve months. Certainly this influenced Charlene Long’s suggestion that we host a coffee hour with one simple rule: everything served was to be local, if at all possible. As a result, we had fresh produce and cider from Brooksby Farm, milk and cream from a nearby dairy, cheeses from farms just north of here and bread from a local bakery. (The one obvious exception was coffee. Alas, God is not finished with us yet. At least it was Fair Trade!) All in all, it was a fun morning and a good example of how difficult and how rewarding it can be to “go local” with our food.

Thinking about food always leads us to some fundamental considerations. How we acquire it, from whom we buy it, and with whom we eat it, are all questions that lead to a variety of social and ethical implications. I think there is a reason that THE major ritual that Jesus handed down to his followers centers around a meal. By sharing food, we are connected and connecting – even communing - with our families, our community and the world around us.

Maybe that is why I like the growing local food movement and groups like the 100-mile Meal project. (For more information, go to www.100milediet.org.) It forces us to think anew about the many ways that our personal lives are connected to one another and to the natural world. I suspect that if Jesus were alive and preaching today, we might hear him say something to the effect of “Blessed are the sustainable, for it is they who enable the inheriting of the earth.”

Sunday, October 7 is World Communion Sunday. I hope you can come and be a part of our service and our celebration of food and community.

See you in church,

September 2007

I have a modest gripe about my generation. Actually, truth be told, my issue is with people my age and younger. Increasingly I think young adults have forgotten how to be part of a religious community, at least one that is real and not on the web.

This observation (admittedly subjective) arises out of my ongoing interactions with young(er) couples who call or email me inquiring about wedding dates or baptism services. Don't get me wrong, most if not all of the people who call me are courteous and polite. But many of them clearly do not appreciate the value of a religious community like ours. Instead, when they call the church they treat me like just another vendor for their wedding service or, if they are calling about a baptism, as if they were making a reservation in a restaurant. In both cases, they are surprised (and sometimes a little irritated) when they do not get the date for which they are looking - and they are puzzled when I want to talk to them and ask them questions about their lives. Many of them quickly realize that there is more to "booking" a service than just cold calling a church.

I regard these conversations not as ordeals but rather opportunities - I am given a chance to introduce these people to the role of a progressive minded, engaging church in their lives. I take this as an occasion to familiarize them with the First Church - this grand old community that has been a welcoming voice for religious tolerance and understanding for close to three centuries.

People these days attend church for a variety of reasons, but the fundamental motivations for coming remain the same I think. Churches are places where people are invited to remember their best selves and to act accordingly. Churches are communities that worship something other than the prevailing gods of the age, be it money or social status. When each of us comes to church we should be reminded that there is a presence and power far greater than any of us that sustains and inspires us at different moments in our lives. We are better people and the world is a better place when we attempt to harmonize our lives with this fundamental reality in ways that are compassionate and life affirming. Along the way, we sing songs together, hear sacred texts, provide our children with a welcoming and nurturing environment, have meetings, socialize and support one another during both good times and bad. In short, as our covenant states quite aptly, "we walk together."

So, it is very rewarding for me to meet some of these new people and encourage them to come to church and participate in the programs. After a while, you can see when some of them get it. They understand the vital place that this church can play in their lives.

There is an old African proverb that says "if you want to go fast, travel alone. If you want to go far, travel together." As we resume our normal activity here after the summer break, I hope all of you will make time to join us on Sundays or come to one of our events this month. See you in church,

June 2007

We must cultivate our garden.

Voltaire ~ Candide

I may arguably have one of the nicest office views of anyone I know. Each day I peer out my window, over the venerable brick wall and into beautiful European style garden that is behind the Ropes Mansion and next to the church. It may be one of the best-kept secrets in Salem, used mainly by neighbors and occasional museum members. The Ropes Sisters, who lived together and never married, owned the house and the wonderful garden behind it. Upon their death the property was left to the Peabody Essex Museum with some funds donated for its perpetual maintenance and care.

As a result, every spring I sit by my window and watch as the Ropes Garden comes back to life. The gardeners begin their slow and deliberate work of planting this magnificent patch of soil. I watch as the seeds are started in the greenhouse and the soil is turned over and made ready for the many different plantings: lilies, Gerber daisies, begonias, tulips, and a host of other plants and flowers. And of course, I get to appreciate and marvel at how magnificent the garden looks as it literally comes into full bloom and then changes over the season.

A garden is a deliberate undertaking that requires care, thoughtfulness, patience and time. It requires that we try to cultivate something without the assurance that the flower will bloom or the plant will mature to fruition. Cultivation is by definition intentional, not accidental. So it is with our lives I think. One of the enduring metaphors for the spiritual life is that of a garden. After all, according to the Bible, we started there. It is an ancient metaphor that provides a fitting image for our lives and our souls. Indeed, the inner life is very much about cultivation and intention. Be it prayer or meditation, singing or dancing, acts of individual kindness or advocating for social justice, the soul grows through intentional acts. As we cultivate our souls, we will discover every once in a while a bloom or flowering in our lives, sometimes where we least expect it. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "The purpose of life is to grow a soul." It makes sense he would write that. He was, after all, a gardener.

On Sunday, June 10, we will have guided tours of the Ropes Garden after church. During the picnic, people are invited to take a tour of the Garden with Chief Gardener Dexter Beattie. I hope you all will be able to join us as we celebrate the gardens we have in our midst: both outside and within.

See you in church,

Jeff

May 2007

In 1988, a televangelist from Virginia shocked the country, by announcing his intentions to run for President and then winning the Iowa Caucus. Pat Robertson surprised everyone that year with his early first place finish that was the result of a hard-working and energized base of evangelical voters in Iowa. While Robertson would go on to lose, both he and his followers got a taste of the possibilities of political influence. In fact, after the election Robertson would return to his headquarters in Virginia Beach and raise money for his newly formed Regent University, whose whole mission was to educate biblically based leaders and decision makers for the next generation. Incidentally, around the same time Robertson purchased a satellite transmission hookup in Jerusalem so that he and his Christian television network could broadcast the Second Coming of Christ when it should occur. He believed it was imminent.

While there is nothing inherently wrong or illegal about any of this, it should give all thoughtful religious people and Christians pause. Certainly everyone has the right to influence and lobby their political leaders and practice their religion as they see fit. However, when these beliefs seek to have a major influence on our country’s policy, everyone should pay attention. Amidst the scandals concerning Attorney General Alberto Gonzales and the firing of the eight federal prosecutors, is the report that the Bush Administration has hired at least 100 graduates of Pat Robertson’s Regent University since 2001. This includes the Attorney General’s chief aide, who just resigned a few weeks ago and was a graduate of Regent University’s Law School.

Many of these graduates have a disdain for the separation of church and state and believe that this country needs to return to its Christian origins as the Forefathers intended it - an assertion problematic on several levels, especially when one considers the actual religious beliefs of some of this country’s first leaders. Nonetheless, Regent University graduates have recently been influential in crafting Iraq war policy and cutting social programs, even as the national debt skyrockets. It is stories like this that make this year’s Bentley Lecture so timely. Kevin Phillips is a longtime political observer and historian who has written a substantive and provocative book on the undue influence of the religious right in this country. He will be here on Sunday, May 6 to present a lecture based on his book: American Theocracy: The Peril and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century. I hope all of you can attend.

The First Church has a long history of hosting events and programs that speak to the larger needs of contemporary society. I am proud of this legacy and what we have been able to promote and feature with our annual Bentley Lecture Series. This is a community where we are all encouraged to bring our minds as well as our hearts to church – preferably in the “open position.”

See you in church,

Jeff

April 2007

Throughout life one must continue to learn how to live, and, what will surprise you even more, throughout life one must continue to learn how to die.
~ Seneca, Roman Philosopher

We temporarily interrupt this normally scheduled monthly column to bring you a special announcement: your life can change for the better. Really. Your life as you know it can be transformed – even resurrected – into something new and meaningful. That is what the Season of Easter is all about: finding new life, sometimes where we least expect it. Ah, but there is one catch to this message of possibility and redemption: in order to find this new life and possibility, some part of us might need to die.

Easter is a built-in reminder of this possibility inherent in each of our lives. Easter and the preceding Lenten and Holy Week cycles are ways of reminding people that their lives are given to them for transformation and improvement; and with this transformation comes the necessity of dying to a part of ourselves.

I once knew a wonderful and wise man who ran a camp program for children. He and his wife had moved to New Hampshire after spending many years in New York City where he had been a high powered banker with a two pack a day habit and penchant for single malt scotch, to put it mildly. Everyone who met him was surprised when they heard his background, for truly this was an authentically religious and kind man. To hear him tell his story, it sounded as if he had experienced two lives and part of his first life had to “die” in order to allow a second one to grow and take shape. In a sense, this is what the Easter story is all about – dying while we still are alive so as to make room for something new to emerge.

I wish you all a very happy spring and Easter Season. We have a very active month this April, between Easter events, Earth Day programs and book discussion groups. I hope you can each find a way to be part of our growing community.

See you in church,

Jeff

March 2007 - by guest columnist Michael Mascolo

A Culture of Benevolence
A fish doesn’t know it’s in water until, for some reason, it is lured out of the water. Until then, the fish has nothing with which to compare the experience of being-in-the-water.

People living in their everyday culture are a lot like fish in water. We are not ordinarily aware of the immense importance of culture in our lives until we find ourselves trying to navigate our way through a different culture.

Well, something like that happened to me when I began to attend the First Church of Salem. I have never been a church going person. I first attended the First Church because of its importance to my wife; I attended because I wanted to share in an experience that was meaningful to her. I soon found that it became meaningful to me.

For me, a culture is a kind of milieu of meaning. Culture exists whenever any group of people share some way of understanding and acting in the world. When I first began to attend the First Church, fellowship hour and sundry activities associated with the church, I found myself navigating in what was, at least for me, a new culture. What I experienced was something that might be called a culture of benevolence.

I remember the moment that this notion occurred to me. It was during the 2005 Christmas season. Some members of the Church came together one to embark upon an evening of Christmas caroling throughout the neighborhood of the First Church. It was a small group. The caroling felt like an act of collective giving (albeit only intermittently appreciated by those to whom we sang) – but that was not what touched me. What moved me most was a very small act that occurred after the caroling, when we came back to Church for mulled cider and cookies.

It was the smallest of acts -- an everyday act – one performed without any thought of its possible significance. It was the act of, well, washing dishes.

We drank cider; we ate cookies; we talked. Then the clan began to clean up. Everyone began picking up plates and dividing the task of washing dishes. One person collected the cups and saucers; another washed, another dried and so forth -- all simple everyday activities.

What moved me was not the activity, but the way it was done. Each person generously assumed responsibility for contributing something to the collective effort. What stands out most in my mind was J.C. making it her concerted business to collect those cups and saucers. All that intensity over cups! Of course, it wasn’t about the cups; it was a genuine expression of J.C.’s attitude toward the group.

In these small acts, I sensed what might be called a culture of benevolence -- each person acting for the good of others in mind. Now, one of the important features of a culture is its impact on individuals. Even in these simple acts, my participation in this culture of benevolence had the effect of making me want to be part of this collective effort. It made me want to act in ways that would bring harmony to the group. I wanted to act with the benevolence that J.C. exuded.

I was able to say to myself, “Well, I should be doing that; she is the kind of person I want to be!” It may seem silly to experience this sentiment while washing dishes together, but perhaps the simplicity of the task is part of the emotional lure. Perhaps it is through such simple expressions of kindness that greater acts of kindness and compassion germinate en route to being born. It is within a culture of benevolence that one is able to cultivate a moral self.

And so, while picking up plates for each other is a good place to start, this simple expression of good will is emblematic of something much larger. The process of cultivating a moral self occurs best, I think, when larger acts of service become as second-nature as picking-up-plates. As genuine expressions of the self, such acts would not announce themselves or seek praise. They would become part of everyday life -- part of who we are and what we do.

Michael F. Mascolo

February 2007

Recently I have noticed a trend on Sundays at the church. People are lingering. After the service ends (and admittedly this is not always at 11:30. Ahem.), we adjourn into the Cleveland Room for fellowship hour. This is always a nice occasion. In fact, I find that new people who find the courage to “come back” for coffee find themselves delightfully surprised with the level of hospitality.

First of all, there is the spread, which is always nice with occasional home baked goodies and a few favorites from Trader Joe’s (so it seems). There always seems to be a delightful assortment of snacks and bites - especially if you get back there early. Then there is the fairly traded (and quite delicious) coffee and tea served up in plated silver decanters and “Blue Danube” cups and saucers, with nary a bit of Styrofoam in sight. Add to this the glowing warmth and smell of the fireplace and a host of genuinely friendly people and suddenly, there is a “perfect storm” of hospitality. I actually am quite proud of our fellowship hour after the service. I think it embodies (literally) an important part of our theology and faith: it is welcoming, pleasant, and very civilized.

And this warmth and good coffee is having an unintended consequence: people are lingering. People find that they are having such a nice time with pleasant food and conversation that they are staying a little bit longer than they used to. And this is a nice thing to see too. I must admit I wondered for a while if we should be doing something with that time. Perhaps we should “harness” all this fellowshipping and good will and provide a little structure for those who want some programs to go with their caffeine and tasty treats. I still think I might offer the opportunity for some small group discussion for people who wish to delve deeper after the weekly service. But even as I propose such an idea, I resist tampering with the fellowship hour scene that is developing and growing. There is something to be said for just having the opportunity for pleasant conversation, for laughter, for sharing and exchanging ideas – all over excellent coffee.

The Rev. James Luther Adams once said the “Church is the place where you get to practice what it means to be human.” Given that Adams started off his ministry here in Salem, perhaps he too experienced mysterious “Salem effect” when it comes to Fellowship Hour.

In the coming weeks and months as we begin the conversation about renovating our building, I hope we will keep in mind the goodwill and growing sense of community we see on display after church each Sunday. That is what the First Church is all about: practicing what it means to be human by reaching out to ourselves, our community and our world in acts of good will – both big and small. Sometimes this is as simple as handing someone a cup of coffee.

See you in church – AND after church,

Jeff

January 2007

On Thursday, January 18 the First Church plans to sell a portion of its silver collection at Christie’s in New York City. As far as I can tell this is only the second time in our 377 year history that the church has elected to sell items from its collection. The first time was in 1924, when the church sold a few pieces to raise funds for the construction of an addition on the back of the building. The First Church and North Church had decided to reunite that year after having separated 1772. Part of the agreement was that the First Church would sell its building (the Daniel Lowe Building, aka Rockafellas) and move down Essex Street to the North Church Meetinghouse, our current home. In preparation for the two churches merging, it was decided that a new social hall and Sunday school classroom wing needed to be built. The result was the construction in 1927 of a rear addition behind the original church building. You know it well since we gather for fellowship hour and Sunday school in this addition each week (i.e., the Cleveland and Barnard Rooms and the class rooms above them).

Raising the funds for such an undertaking in 1924 required enormous effort and significant contributions by members of the reunited church. As it turns out, it also required the sale a few pieces of silver.

So here we are today in 2007, with a new set of building challenges and a growing community. Our building requires some significant renovations and improvements. We wish to find a way to make our church universally accessible. We wish to renovate and upgrade Willson Hall, our wonderful downstairs social hall and stage area. We wish to upgrade the lighting and sound in the Meetinghouse. And this will cost over one million dollars – easily.

Deciding to sell some part of the silver collection was no one’s first choice here at the church. I was initially opposed to the idea. However, during a period of discernment many of the needs and challenges we face in the coming years became clear. We are literally fighting entropy one day at a time in this 160 year old building. As a result, we concluded that this was the wisest decision we could make right now. We have a growing community. We have a wonderful message and an approach to religious faith that is increasingly appealing to more and more people. The thought was that we take a few items from our past and use them to transform our future. The Deacons realized that the individuals who gave these items to the church centuries ago would approve of what we have chosen to do. In fact this decision is in many ways congruent with our deepest values as a church. After all, the most valuable treasure we possess is not a piece of silver but rather our community and the people who are a part of it.

One final item note: several people in the last year have been instrumental in this decision and I would like to acknowledge their contribution. Mimi Ballou was the Deacon who first proposed that the church consider this. Richard L’Heureux is a church member and architect who presented the church with a realistic estimate of what it would cost to renovate the building in the way we would like. Steve Palmer has guided this process as a Deacon and as Chair of the Standing Committee. And finally Peter Copelas, Jr. as the current Chair of the Deacons, has been instrumental in coordinating the very necessary logistics for the sale, including the labyrinthine application process for tax-exempt status under New York state law. The church owes all of them a hearty words of thanks.

In the coming weeks and months, there is going to be a lot of discussion about how we can best use the proceeds from the sale to improve our building. I hope you each will take the opportunity to join the discussion. A church like ours works best when all of its members are engaged and excited about the prospects and potential for our community. So feel free to call me or a member of the Standing Committee or the Deacons. Ask questions, get involved and by all means please support your church. That is how our community works.

Happy New Year and here’s to the ongoing renewal at the First Church in Salem.

See you in church,

Jeff

December 2006

Once upon a time there was a wonderful winter festival that celebrated the birth of the Christ child. Replacing the even older festivals having to do with the winter solstice, this celebration was intended to be a time of joy and merrymaking amidst some of the shortest days of the year.

The festival traditionally began on the eve of December 25 and continued non-stop through to January 6 (Epiphany), when tradition has it that the wise men showed up to behold the baby Jesus. Two hundred years ago in this country, people took seriously the 12 days of Christmas. They would have prepared for the holiday by purchasing some small gifts a FEW days in advance and making arrangements for special food and drink. The focus was not on gift giving but rather on preparations for a 12-day series of parties. People might also have gone out and cut down an evergreen tree (a German custom), set it up in their house and decorated it with garland and candles. Again, all of this would occur on or right before Christmas day.

As I write this, it is not even Advent. It’s not even December! And yet, I have seen at least four Christmas trees just today. The moment Thanksgiving is done, Christmas is “out of the gate.” Christmas forever changed as our society went from being agrarian to urban. The good will and generosity that were traditionally a part of the Christmas festival were harnessed and transformed, as Americans became consumers and producers. Our modern day Christmas developed between 1820 and 1890. Not coincidentally, this was also the time of our industrial revolution and the birth of the modern era.

Don’t get me wrong: part of me enjoys the current state of Christmas, but I do wish it did not start so early. I think holiday and election seasons have something in common: they are better when shorter. I must admit that I often wonder if we have lost something amidst all of the ersatz winter scenes of snowmen and Santas. We can forget that the purpose of this holiday has nothing to do with early morning shopping sprees, plastic reindeers in the front yard and spray-on snow.

We do of course have this remarkable little story in which God mysteriously enters the world in the form of a defenseless newborn child. There is the implication that echoes down through the centuries that the divine pops up in the least likely of places; like a war-torn dirty town in a second rate province of the Roman Empire. There is the notion that amidst the turmoil and stress of a sometimes difficult life, there can be moments of jubilation, visitation and transformation –often when we least expect it.

We have a wonderful December ahead with much fun and frivolity. I hope to see you in church so I can tell you Merry….. On principle, I just can’t say it yet.

See you in church,

Jeff

November 2006

I read a story in the Boston Globe recently that four Catholic bishops in Massachusetts (including Cardinal O’Malley) plan to lead a rally in front of the Statehouse on Thursday, November 9. That is the day that our elected representatives have scheduled a constitutional convention to vote on whether or not same-sex marriage in the Commonwealth should be legal. Apparently Catholic parishioners from all over the state were mailed letters inviting them to this rally and encouraging them to contact their legislator and urge him or her to vote “yes” on amending the state constitution to prohibit same sex marriage. It was even suggested that parishioners send a copy of their church’s weekly order of service to their state representative as a show of local support.

I find myself having two reactions to this: the first one begrudging and the other full-fledged. My first reaction is to be impressed that the Catholic Church can muster so much support and put such a huge amount of energy and resources behind an initiative about which they feel strongly. This country is amazing in that way. The freedoms that we all enjoy to assemble and speak out in support of a cause are great and hard-fought liberties. Any group, be it a neighborhood association or an interest group or, yes, a church, should enjoy these rights. So good for them!

This leads me, however, to my second reaction. There are so many admirable and worthy causes that the Catholic Church could promote and advance in this state. There are a host of vital and important problems many of us face that are worthy of the attention and support of four of the most prominent church leaders in the state. Same-sex marriage is not one of them. Since the courts made “gay marriage” legal in 2004, nothing dramatic has occurred except for the fact that some 8000 couples who love each other have gotten married. Some 8000 couples have all the sudden been permitted to inherit each other’s property, be covered by each other’s health insurance, and visit each other in the hospital without any hassle. What an outrage.

There are so many worthy causes to rally for in front of the State House; issues that should matter to people who take their faith seriously. How about the lack of affordable health insurance in this state? What about the growing number of homeless families who cannot find adequate housing? What about the plight of children lost in the woefully under funded social services system? These are some of the important social issues that need the support and attention of people of faith. I wish some of the most influential religious leaders in the state would lead a rally about them.

Jesus in the Gospels criticized the rich. He said divorce was wrong. He lashed out against those who treat children and the poor badly. He spoke up for people who were hungry, in need of clothing and in prison. Never once, anywhere, does he say anything about homosexuality. In terms of making priorities, I think churches should follow his lead.

We have wonderful month planned here at the First Church. I hope you each will come and be a part of it.

See you in church,

Jeff

October 2006

In the United States, heat waves lasting four days or more have nearly tripled in the last 50 years. Tropical diseases are migrating north, with West Nile virus detected in each of the 48 continental states. The amount of drinking water in the Western US decreased since it depends on the seasonal snow pack melting and there is less and less snow. Since 1900, the amount of pollen produced by ragweed in this country has doubled as a result of warmer weather. By 2100, it is estimated that one quarter of the known plant and animal species could be facing extinction as result of changes to their natural habitat. According to NASA, 2005 was the warmest year ever on record. These are some of the implications of climate change that usually don’t make the headlines.

I have given up debating the reality of global warming. The question all of us should be asking is not IF it is happening but what will be its extent and what are we as a country and as individuals going to do about it. Is the science 100% certain? No. That is not how science works. But if you went to the doctor and she informed you that you were in danger of having a heart attack and that there was a 98% chance that your condition was the result of your lifestyle, what would you do? The same holds true with climate change. The evidence is overwhelming that burning fossil fuels and the resulting increase of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is having a dramatic effect on the life support systems of the earth.

As thoughtful religious people, this should worry us. We have a new category of sin all of the sudden: the sin of emission. In a very real and direct way, the lifestyle of the average American is stealing the future away from coming generations of people. This is especially the case since the United States comprises only 5% of the world’s population, but is responsible for at least 25% of global greenhouse gas emissions. Do we have a moral obligation to address these issues and find ways to move towards a more sustainable use of natural resources? Is there an ethical imperative to act now to save millions of people around the world who will lose their lives if the average American keeps using energy and polluting the way we do? If we believe in the Golden Rule, the answer is undeniably yes.

Clearly, there is a place for religion in all this. After all, one of the most important things that religions do is to remind us to behave righteously when our inclination is to behave selfishly. Houses of worship all over this nation need to call the people of the United States to conscience. I believe this is just now starting to happen. In fact, I spent part of my sabbatical preparing for just that.

On Thursday, Oct. 19, the First Church will host a free screening of An Inconvenient Truth, the documentary film starring Al Gore that was came out this summer. What is remarkable about the film is that a 90-minute science lecture can be so gripping. Even if you are a not a fan of Mr. Gore’s, this is not a film to miss since it deals with what will very quickly become one of the greatest challenges – and opportunities – the human race has ever faced. I hope you will consider attending this free event and be a part of the ongoing discussion about how we as individuals, as a church, as a community, and as a country will respond to the growing climate change crisis.

See you in church,

Jeff

September 2006

Written by Reverend Jeffrey Barz-Snell, Minister of the First Church

Though often not considered, one of the Ten Commandments is about rest and taking a break. All of the others deal with the obvious moral rules about theft, murder, adultery and even swearing. But the fourth commandment is different: "Thou shall remember the Sabbath and keep it holy." The Commandments, while certainly inspired by Divine Providence, have behind them ancient wisdom that accrued over hundreds of generations about the rules essential for living in a community. That is why the commandment to keep the Sabbath is so odd and so fitting.

It seems that even thousands of years ago, people found that they did not have enough time in the day. They, perhaps like some of us, found that they could get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life and survival that they never took the opportunity to step back and pause and consider the bigger picture. They found that it was too easy to focus on the little things in life and forget to pay attention to the grander aspects of this existence. Out of such a realization, the commandment to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy was born. ("Holy" in this case meant "apart" or "separate.") On the Sabbath, the ancient Jews were expected to attend a worship service and to remember their relationship to the one true God. They were supposed to do no work and to spend time with family and friends. The expectation was that the Sabbath was not just rest but for renewal - and for remembering the blessings and possibilities inherent in our lives.

I often find myself thinking about the Sabbath at the beginning of a new church season. As we gather after the summer break, it seems fitting and natural to think about the ways that we have found and can find rejuvenation and inspiration in our lives. Part of what a church does is to encourage this with enlivening worship services and opportunities for fellowship and community service. After all, part of what we do in our "walk together" (as our covenant reads) is to remind each other and ourselves of what is truly important in this life. As James Luther Adams says, "church is the place where you get to practice what it means to be human." I will look forward to seeing many of you again after this summer season.

See you in church,

Jeff

June 2006

Written by Reverend Jeffrey Barz-Snell, Minister of the First Church

Five months cannot possibly have already elapsed. My goodness, that went fast! I guess that is a sign of a good and productive sabbatical. I certainly have found plenty to engage myself in even as I took a break from preaching and pastoring.

The last five months have been a true gift for me and my family. I would like to thank the church and express my appreciation to everyone who pitched in and helped coordinate the many activities at The First Church while I was away. Building and creating a religious community is by definition a group activity. It has been heartening to hear about the ways that many of you stepped in to help. I hope you all have found this time rewarding as well.

As for me, I have spent the last five months studying, thinking, writing and, yes, even playing some. I took a semester of study at Tufts University. I brought my kids to Florida for a trip. I attended a conference in New York City. I read some books that were on my exponentially growing reading list. Because my children are small and my budget was tight, I stayed mainly near home. Perhaps during future sabbaticals there will be time and opportunity for outward journeys. This time my journey was inward. I took it as an opportunity to study and explore a few of my passions.

The semester of study at Tufts University was part of a certificate program in Community Environmental Studies at the School of Urban and Environmental Policy and Planning. As many of you know, I am keenly interested and concerned about local and global environmental issues. I am convinced that ecological challenges are going to occupy an increasing amount of our attention in this country and around the world. This will be reflected in our society and by extension our churches. In a very real sense, I took these last five months to do some preparation for being a minister in the 21st century. Sustainability has to become a part of our spirituality.

I will look forward to seeing many of you in June when I am back. Feel free to give me a ring or try my new email address: jeffreysnell@comcast.net. And don't forget about the Annual Question Box Sermon on June 18. By next week, the Question Box will be out and looking for your questions.

I will finish this column with my new favorite quote. It is by the Rev. William Sloan Coffin who died a few months ago.

The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love.

See you in church,

Jeff

*** Note: Because of Reverend Barz-Snell's sabbatical, the Musings Columns from January - May of 2006 were written by members of our Congregation.

May 2006

Written by Max Burbank, Writer and Member of the First Church

This Easter, my sister and brother-in-law gave me a four pound chocolate Easter Bunny.

It's my first Easter Bunny and the largest I've ever seen, let alone contemplated eating. It made me happy to get it, and eating the one ear I've eaten so far has made me even happier. I always thought those huge Easter bunnies would be pretty low quality chocolate, but I have to say my Bunny is not bad. I anticipate eating it really slowly, making it last as long as possible, maybe even until next Easter. I anticipate that Bunny giving me a great deal of happiness, as long as I don't get greedy.

I think God is in that Bunny.

I suppose at best that sounds small, and at worst sacrilegious, with unpleasantly flippant being in about the middle. I mean it, though. Sincerely and simply, because I believe God exists in, at some level actually is, every bit of matter in the universe. I also believe the only explanation for the simple happiness that Bunny brings me has to be God. I think the fact that pods from a tree can be, through some arcane alchemy, transformed into a four pound chocolate Easter Bunny is as powerful an argument for the existence of a kind and loving God as anything else. Again, I'm not kidding, even a little. If you've met me, you probably still think I'm joking, and yes, I guess I am. But I still mean it. This is the nature of my religion, and it's a good thing I found The First Church because now you know and you'll probably still let me stay.

Now, I know the way chocolate is harvested, manufactured and sold can be a very unpleasant business. I have to say, my Bunny is not fair trade. But that's not what I'm talking about here. People do a lot of terrible things with the wonder of God's creation. The fact they make four pound chocolate Easter Bunnies doesn't make up for it, but that isn't God's fault. God made my tongue and my brain and chocolate and the soothing dance they all do together.

I know Easter is supposed to be about a lot more than that. But I never got a chocolate Easter Bunny before. And this is love.

To other people my Bunny is going to look worse and worse as spring gives way to summer and I have to find a cooler place to hide it from my children, who got their own Bunnies. By fall I expect it will look downright awful, and when winter rolls around again ... well, the less said the better. But it will be gorgeous to me, right down to the last bunny toe melting in my mouth.

It was a lovely, thoughtful gift.

Maybe next Easter I'll get another. I kind of hope so.

April 2006

Written by James Tanch, Deacon of the First Church

As I write this column, early spring is upon us with warm days and cold nights. Mother Nature was very good to us this past winter with warm weekends and very little snow after Christmas. With many in the surrounding area feeling the pinch of much higher heating oil and gas prices, the mild winter had to be a welcome change. The First Church family, as we all know, continues to roll along no matter what the weather. Our Sunday School is busy and our Sunday fellowship hours prove that the First Church is alive and well.

Last fall, when the Deacons and Reverend Jeff sat down at the church one weeknight to finalize plans for Jeff's sabbatical, I paused and wondered what Sundays would be like without Jeff in the pulpit. The thought of someone new in the pulpit brought a slight feeling of uneasiness for someone like me who is a bit of a traditionalist. Time marches on, and the Sundays arrived one by one, and what I observed those mornings was that each speaker had his or her own way of delivering a message. Some were conservative in tone and some would really expound on an issue with raised voice and a good deal of body language. Contrary to my earlier concerns, I found most speakers very interesting and also noticed that attendance has been surprisingly good.

As I mentioned earlier, I have a deep appreciation for tradition, which undoubtedly is due to growing up in the First Church. My Grandmother Edith, and Mom and Dad were all very active members and we rarely missed a Sunday as I recall. We would all sit in pew number 103 with "Uncle Bill" Abbott at the far right. When I hear certain "traditional" hymns and readings, I drift back and think of my family and earlier times at the church. Those memories I will always cherish. The church building to me has always been a place of solace - where I can seek peace and listen to my inner self. Having grown up in this church, sometimes just being in the building can give me a warm feeling of security. If you've ever sat down alone in the sanctuary on a quiet Saturday morning, you'll know what I mean.

As for the building itself, we now have some tentative architectural plans for some much needed renovations and improvements, thanks to architects Richard L'Heureux and his associate Dan Ricciarelli. We still need the congregation's support to make this happen, but there is definite progress in the works. There will be more information available at the Annual Meeting on May 7th, so don't miss it!

Have a great day and we'll see you in Church.

March 2006

Written by Claire Donaldson

These first two months of Jeff's sabbatical have been interesting. I have enjoyed helping lead the service and working with the visiting minister. Each person has their own style, their own system of getting ready for service. Some arrive nice and early so they can be ready and comfortable when it is time to start. Others arrive a bit later, but are just a comfortable to start on time. It has been a joy to hear a wide range of messages, backgrounds, styles of delivery and stories from our visiting clergy.

What has been more joyful is to see many members of First Church come together taking on a variety of tasks to keep our community going. Individuals taking turns writing this section for the Herald, Deacons greeting each visiting clergy, making them feel welcome, the Pastoral Care Committee tending to the needs of church members, people coming together to put on a spaghetti dinner, etc. This is exactly what a church community should be able to do. This time of Sabbatical is a time for Jeff to rest, learn, and grow. It is also a time for us as a congregation to see what we are capable of. Look at all we CAN DO! We are doing a wonderful job of keeping things going, moving forward, and we can continue to grow with this momentum.

See you in Church.

February 2006

Written by Mary E. Ballou, Deacon of the First Church

As we enter the second month of Jeff's sabbatical, I would like to reflect on how much our church has changed in the last seven years. As a long-time member of The First Church, joining when my five children were young, we had a busy Sunday School, roast beef dinners, huge Church fairs, used Willson Hall on a regular basis for community gatherings and Red Cross dinners. The "Fair Ladies" were an active group of "younger women" in the church with The Alliance being equally active attracting the mature group. I was impressed with the eagerness of everyone to participate in some way. As the years went by, our leadership changed, our children grew up, and many of us felt The First Church became a less exciting place to be. Our membership, or at least attendance in church, declined and for many the need to participate and contribute faded. It seemed to take a long time to rekindle the interest and excitement we had once had. We sold our historic parsonage, trying to keep up with the trends in ministerial needs, with hope of attracting new leadership. We had several Ministerial Search Committees, and each time hoped we had found the inspirational leader we needed.

Finally, seven years ago, I think we did, when we hired Jeff. The church has revitalized itself. We still have a long way to go with improvements to Willson Hall and the many needs of an old building, but I sense the excitement and the interest in activities or at least church. The Salem community has recognized us as an important contributor of life in Salem and our membership has increased. Our Sunday School is active and there is enthusiasm in supporting the needs of the church and the community. Now our leader is taking some time to refresh his spirit and learn new ways to keep The First Church alive and well. We need in the next few months to work very hard as a united congregation to keep the momentum going at The First Church as all of us try to fill the many jobs that Jeff has so ably dealt with in the past seven years!

Please offer your expertise in any fields that you feel you can contribute and support our vital church with your presence and enthusiasm!

See you in Church.

January 2006

Written by Steve Palmer, Deacon of the First Church

We at the First Church are about to embark on a new leg of our shared adventure. Beginning January 2nd, Reverend Barz-Snell will be pursuing a sabbatical leave through May. This period will be a new experience for our society that is at once venerable, yet young and growing.

The Sabbatical is a time-honored tradition among the academic and clerical professions. It is an opportunity for the practitioner to grow, to change perspective, to simply recharge, and to return to the community with new energy. It is also an opportunity for the community served to hear new voices, and to hear our own voices in a slightly different way. And many of us will find opportunities to support the Church in new ways, to perform rewarding tasks that may not have been very visible under Reverend Barz-Snell's able management.

The sabbatical is also a chance for us to acknowledge and celebrate the growth and the successes of recent years under Reverend Barz-Snell's leadership. Indeed, it has been many years since a sitting Minister has remained with the Church for the seven years traditionally required before a sabbatical is granted. This in itself is gratifying.

It is my perception that, during these recent years, the fabric of our community has been knitted stronger, and if you will accept the analogy, new colors have been added to the tapestry. This winter and spring we will have the chance to partake in a festival of preaching themes and styles. While I know we will miss Jeff's emergent voice, I expect we will be warmed, enlightened, and, yes, challenged by the words of our visitors in unexpected ways.

Visiting preachers are drawn in part because of our rich tradition, but also because of the work Jeff has done, and the relationships he has forged. Many of us will have the opportunity to welcome our roster of guest preachers, and make each feel at home. This is our charge.

See you in Church.

December 2005

I have a new favorite part of the Christmas Story. Each year I seem to get hooked by one aspect of the nativity stories surrounding Jesus' birth. One year, I thought the angels were great. The next year, I identified with the bewilderment of the shepherds. Still another Christmas, I empathized with Joseph, imagining the emotional duress he was under. I even one year sympathized with Mary and her pain and exhilaration.

The wonder of the Christmas stories (there really are two stories - one from Matthew and one from Luke )- is that there are endless ways to interpret them and find them meaningful. Some of the greatest music and art in the Western world has been inspired by them: for example, Handle's Messiah and countless portraits of the Madonna with child.

This year, I have found my attention drawn to a less popular or obvious part of the story. I am fascinated by the stable. Yes, the stable. Part of it lies in the satisfying irony of the Prince of Peace being born in a dirty, old barn. But it's more than that. I like the stable because it is an apt metaphor for our lives and our selves. Our lives can be messy. They have places and areas that are less than clean, and need tidying. There can be parts of ourselves that act like barnyard animals and need to be cordoned off and even occasionally contained. And it is into this situation, that we find God wanting to somehow enter the world - into our messy, sometimes egotistical, less than pretty lives.

The trick of course is to make room in our stables- and not really a lot room. After all, babies don't need much space. That is in a sense what we are invited to do each year, make space in our lives - our real lives - for the divine to work. This could involve a variety of things or activities. Giving gifts and helping those less fortunate are two traditional ones. Forgiving someone or asking forgiveness is another. Giving up a bad or dangerous habit and reaching out to someone who needs you work well too. People assume that being spiritual means becoming a saint-like figure. It does not work that way. Real spirituality involves simply making room for goodness or God in your life and then seeing what happens as a result.

As we enter this season of contemplation and celebration, I wish you a very Merry Christmas. See you in church

November 2005

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.
~Cicero

I once knew a man who claimed that he did not believe in God. I know there are a lot of people like him running around. (If truth be told, what he really meant was that he did not believe in the God of his childhood - but who does?) Oddly enough, he still participated in a religious community on a regular basis - a UU church. He did this because while he was unsure about the existence of a divine being, he was sure about his life: he felt blessed. He had gone through several difficult times in his life: an illness, the death of his mother, a job loss. Yet he had come through them all and felt somehow fortunate for his situation. He loved his spouse and his children. He had a good job that was rewarding and meaningful (at least most of the time). He owned a house, enjoyed good health, and even had decent health insurance. In short, he was better off than 90% of the people on this planet.

The only unusual thing about this fellow was that he seemed keenly aware of the many blessings he enjoyed. He saw his life as a series of gifts, not givens. As a result, he felt compelled to give thanks. His way of doing it was being a part of a church and volunteering in the community. He was not always sure what he was doing on Sunday morning, but he knew WHY he was doing it. The universe had been "friendly" to him and he wanted to say thank you and find a way to reciprocate.

I always think about this man and others like him as we head into November and the Thanksgiving holiday. A fundamental aspect of all religious exploration and activity lies in counting one's blessings and giving thanks. As the Roman philosopher and statesman said 2000 years ago, "Gratitude is …the greatest of all virtues and …the parent of all the others." In a sense, giving thanks prevents us from feeling entitled, from the errant belief that we have earned our lot in life. All of us, from time to time, would benefit from remembering this, myself included.

We enter a very active season here at the First Church. I wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving and hope that each of us will take time to count our many blessings.

See you in church,

October 2005

One of the things that inspires me as a person of faith is thinking about the world in 100 years from now. Doing this forces one to realize that of us who are alive right now are just "passing through." We in fact are not owners but merely tenants, even transients. One of the questions that can come out of this line of reasoning is what sort of world am I - and can I - leave to my children and to the succeeding generations.

This is especially the case as we think about climate change. In the last four weeks, two major hurricanes slammed the Gulf Coast. There is increasing concern that the number and severity of tropical storms could be related to global climate change caused by excessive amounts carbon dioxide being emitted into the atmosphere. As I write this, there is a new study out reporting that the arctic ice sheet that covers the ocean near the north pole has melted more this last year than in 25 years of monitoring, again the result of presumed global warming.

Years from now, I dare suspect, that people will wonder what those of us who are alive right now were thinking? Didn't we see the signs? What did we do? Why did we not change our ways quickly?

While there are some who point out that global warming has not been proven conclusively, their numbers are decreasing. We simply do not have the luxury of being "innocent until proven guilty" on an issue like this. It might be too late to do anything by then.

What is clear is that as the climate warms up, those people who will be most affected and injured will be the poor and uneducated. We need only consider what happened in New Orleans to see a case in point. What also is clear is that churches and organized religion in general could and should have a part to play in addressing this issue. Indeed, there is a growing movement amongst seminaries and universities to articulate "greener" interpretations of religion. I call it the challenge of doing theology on a small planet.

On Thursday, October 20, the local environmental advocacy group Healthlink is sponsoring a forum entitled "Caring for Creation and Global Warming- Linking the Religious Communities to Solutions." It will be a gathering of people from many different religious traditions all wondering how they might respond to the challenges of climate change. I myself will be participating as will my colleague, Rabbi Lee Levin from Temple Shalom here in Salem.

Join us for an evening of exploration and inspiration as we hear different ways that religious communities are responding to the threat of global warming. Everything from wind farms to driving more fuel efficient cars to agitating for change at a state and federal level will be discussed.

It is high time that people start to see that the global warming is not just an economic problem, but a moral and religious one as well. All of us in the coming years and decades are going to have to come to terms with the difference between ownership and stewardship when it comes to living on this increasingly small planet.

See you in church,

September 2005

Recently we were reminded of the problem that can come from fundamentalist religion in this country. The Rev. Pat Robertson, the longtimehost of the 700 Club and one of the early televangelists, stated that the U.S. government should assassinate Hugo Chavez, the controversial president of Venezuela. Those of us who have followed Mr. Robertson were not at all surprised by his statement. After all, this is the man who stated earlier this year that the threat from activist judges in this country far exceeds the menace of a few Islamic terrorists flying planes into towers. Years ago, Robertson also took credit for averting a hurricane that was headed towards the Virginia coastline where he lives and works.

So his recent words this week were not that remarkable. What was notable however was the reaction. Robertson's words reverberated around the globe as various countries and commentators expressed shock that a Christian minister in the United States would brazenly endorse the assassination of a head of state (one who had been democratically elected - three times ). After all, doesn't this fly in the face of the Ten Commandments and the teachings of Jesus? To his credit, Mr. Robertson's organization did issue a retraction of sorts on their website - what they called a clarification.

Still, this is just another example of how the Christian Right in this country does not always seem that Christian. Rather than basing their theology on the teachings of Jesus, groups like Robertson's and others appeal to nationalism, to say nothing of a literal AND selective interpretation of the Bible. As a result, they can sometimes promote a mean spirited and politically problematic worldview. And heaven help us (literally) if their influence continues to increase in the Halls of Congress.

At times like this, I realize how important a church like this is, with a religious tradition and practice committed to a thoughtful interpretation of scripture and to progressive social action. And this commitment is alive and well this month with our Bentley Lecture. On Sunday, September 25, the First Church will host the internationally acclaimed biblical scholar, John Dominic Crossan. The author of several books about early Christianity, Professor Crossan has distinguished himself as a person who can bring modern biblical scholarship to life and show how it can be applied to our modern situation. Crossan will deliver three lectures on Saturday, September 24 and then the Bentley Lecture on Sunday. For more information, see inside or check out the church's website. To reserve tickets, call the church office.

See you in church,

June 2005

You will forgive me if I take a moment to gloat about the First Church. I went back and looked at an old church calendar. In June of 1999, we had four Sunday services and three meetings, for the Archives, Standing and Music Committees respectively. That was it in the way of church events and functions. Following longstanding church practice, the slow slide to July break had begun with Memorial Day Weekend. That was then, however. This is now.

If you look through this newsletter, you will behold a plethora of events and items to engage and enliven one's body, mind and soul. We have a hike in the Salem Woods scheduled. We have a Spring Pageant performance, Jonah and the Whale, written and directed by our own Max Burbank. On the same day we have our Folk Choir Service led by the indefatigable Deb Baker. This is followed of course by the church picnic (sign up sheet in the Barnard Room). The following week, we have RE Sunday, the Question Box Sermon (get those questions in!) and we will be graced with the presence of our First Church choir. And I am just talking about Sundays!

During the week, we have a screening of a documentary film called Thirst sponsored by the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee and the Salem Alliance for the Environment. It looks at the alarming trend of the privatization of fresh water. This is followed by an Elizabeth Montgomery Film Series for the last three Thursdays in June. This last event is sponsored by The First Church and Salem State College and is a blatant attempt to make "lemonade out of lemons" regarding the new Bewitched statue that will be unveiled in Salem center the middle of this month. If the City of Salem is going to put a statue of Elizabeth Montgomery in Salem, we thought it only makes sense to look at the issues that she believed were important.

Yes, we will have our traditional break in July, but not before a whale of time in June. I wish you all a happy, warm and sunny month. See in you in church -

May 2005

Imagine, if you will, living in a house that your family has owned for two centuries, on land that has been in your family for even longer. That is not such a hard thing to do here in a place with such history like Salem. Now imagine that one day you receive a knock at the door and are informed that someone else is all of the sudden the owner of the house and land. You are asked to vacate the premises. When you ask how this could possibly be the case, you are informed that these people are the descendants of the previous owners of the land and that they have made a legal claim to owning your house and property as a result. While it has been several hundreds of years, they have returned to claim what they believe is rightfully theirs.

The question, of course, is what would you do? Would you cede control without an argument? Would you argue or fight for what has been yours? Would it matter that the government was overwhelmingly on the side of those who wanted to take your house?

What I have just described to you is the sentiment and experience of some of the traditional people who have lived on the West Bank and Gaza Strip in Israel. Before Israel became a nation state in 1948, before there were the prospects of a Jewish or Palestinian nation, there were people living on the lands now occupied in and around Jerusalem. Most were Muslim. A small amount were Jewish and a surprising number were Christians. Together the lived on and farmed the land in what is now known as the West Bank. The only problem is that now, many of these traditional landholders have been forced off their property to make way for Jewish settlements. Some of them have been forced to abandon their centuries old residences because the Government of Israel claims that they no longer own the land.

This is but one of many different perspectives that we don't often hear amidst the news reports on Israel and the Palestinians. It can be very difficult to figure out the complex history and agendas that drive what happens in that war-torn part of the world. Certainly no one can blame the Israeli Government for wanting to protect its people (and I state this as a supporter of Israel), but no one can blame the Palestinian people for not wanting to lose their traditional land either.

On Saturday, May 7, the First Church is hosting a half day conference on Peacemaking in Israel / Palestine. It will be a day to learn about the history of the conflict and get a better understanding of what is at stake during the current peace talks. It will also be an opportunity to hear from people who have first hand experience with the crisis and have lived in Israel for significant periods of time, including a Palestinian Christian whose family lost her property in the West Bank. The conference is sponsored by Sabeel, (www.sabeel.org) a Palestinian Christian organization dedicated to non-violent solutions to the problems in Israel. It will feature several local prominent speakers, including Nancy Murray and Duncan Kennedy who is a Professor of Law at Harvard Law School. The Rev. Harry Hoehler will be a speaker as well. (Some of you will remember that Harry his wife Judy graciously served as the interim ministers here from 1997-1998.

The First Church has a long history of sponsoring events and programs that address contemporary issues. Our approach to religion invites us to learn about and engage the world in which we find ourselves. I hope each and every one of you will consider attending this event. For more information, call the church or feel free to speak with me. See you in church,

April 2005

Imagine, if you will, that you lived on a farm and you had to live completely off of the land. That is to say, all the food you ate, all the materials you used, and all the items you made had to come from a square patch of land around your house. For most of recent human history this was not an imaginary exercise but a reality. Now, if you had to guess, how much land would you need? How many acres would you require to support yourself?

This is an interesting question since it involves thinking about food, about fuel usage (you are planning to cook, heat and drive, aren't you?) and about travel. In essence you are trying to ascertain what ecologists call your "footprint," the amount of land necessary to generate and grow everything that you need to live - and to live your life.

Recently I went to a website that helped me calculate my Ecological Footprint (www.my footprint.org). It is basically an electronic questionnaire that calculated from my responses how much land was needed to support my lifestyle. It turned out that my footprint was much bigger than I thought it would be: 16 acres. In other words, I require a minimum of 16 acres of usable land to provide all the food and resources I need in my life - and that is just for myself - if I then added the other four people in my household, the acreage would increase almost five-fold.

I thought this was a big number until I read that the average American needs 24 acres to support his or her lifestyle. This number is especially significant when we realize that the rest of the "First World" (the G-8 nations) get by on 10-12 acres per person in terms of resources. And this is to say nothing of the 2 billion poorest people on the planet who eek by on 4-6 acres or less. Indeed, according to www.myfootprint.org, if everyone in the world used the same amount of resources as me, we would need 3.7 planet earths to provide the necessary acreage.

April 22 is Earthday and we will be celebrating it here at the First Church on Sunday, April 24. While this is not exactly a major holiday now, I dare suspect that in the coming decades that will change - since we will need to change. We live in a world that can provide approximately 4.7 biologically productive acres of land for each person now living. At 24 acres per person, we live in a country that uses far more than its fair share. At some point, this will have to change and Earthday is one day each year when we can celebrate and honor the changes that we all need to make. Starting now and from here on out, sustainability must become a part of our spirituality. Maybe we should have a new corollary to the Golden Rule: Consider others, even as you consume those things that you use for yourself.

We have a great month in store here at the church. I hope you all can be a part of it. See you in church,

March 2005

I have a new appreciation for the meaning of Easter this year and the way that resurrection can inform our lives. On Tuesday, January 25, my wife gave birth to our third child (Jonah Max), a beautiful baby boy. We had known since last August that he had a congenital heart defect, a condition called Transposition of the Great Vessels in which his aorta and pulmonary artery are reversed, coming off of the wrong ventricles of his heart because of an miscue in early embryological development. Historically these babies were called blue babies because they were born and quickly became cyanotic. (Their bodies were not getting enough oxygen.) Most often these children would die within a few weeks.

That was then, however. This is now. Starting in the mid 1980's a new surgical procedure was developed in which the two main arteries coming out of the heart were cut and switched, thereby restoring the heart to its normal anatomy and function. This was possible because of advances in microsurgery techniques and new pump technology for the heart and lung machine.

So on January 28, when our son was just three days old, we kissed him goodbye and sent him out for open-heart surgery, knowing full well the risks involved with such a procedure. As I understand it, the surgery calls for cooling the body down to around 40 degrees Fahrenheit after the anesthesia is administered. Then the incision is made in the chest, the heart and lung machine is connected and the heart is stopped. Unbelievably, the surgeons then shut off the heart and lung machine for 40 minutes while they perform the actual surgical procedure. In essence, my son was clinically dead for a short while. Then, after they had reattached his coronary arteries, his heart was re-started and he was slowly warmed up to life - to new life.

It amazes me even now the powerful remedies we enjoy here in the 21st century. My son died for a short while and was then brought back to life - to a new life full of promise and possibility he never would have had otherwise. In some ways, it is a perfect little Easter story. Where once there seemed only the prospects of death, there is now new life.

This existence of ours can often be difficult. Lord knows, there are so many travails and indignities and tragedies that many of us endure. Even so, every once in a while the consternation and despair transforms itself into a joy we cannot possibly predict or anticipate. There are many little moments of Good Friday in our lives, but there are also minor instances of Easter as well.

Easter is very early this year. We might even have a "White Easter" given the recent weather. Still, it is a time to celebrate the possibility for new life and the transformation that can arrive or appear in our lives in many unpredictable ways. I invite you all to come and be a part of the celebration. See you in church,

February 2005

We are never more asleep at the switch than when we believe that we are in control of the switch at all.

~ Annie Dillard

I am feeling kind of small at the time of this writing. What with record setting snow falls bearing down on us and stories of Tsunamis still fresh in my mind, I temporarily have a modest estimate of human action in this world. Don’t get me wrong: I am sure it will go away. I am sure my optimism about the human enterprise will return. But for now, I remain impressed with powers in our world that truly remain outside of our control. I remain impressed with how much we take for granted and how much of our lives depend on the benevolent effect of forces and processes completely outside of our realm of influence. Earthquakes, Tsunamis, and snowstorms – and the birth of children - will do that to you.

Each of us in this life swings between the opposing viewpoints that we are in complete control of our lives and that we are at the mercy of external forces and events. I suppose there is enormous danger and folly in believing either option for too long. The truth lies somewhere in between. In a very real way, spirituality can be described as the process in which we negotiate between these two poles. Spirituality has to do with our senses of power and powerlessness and the choices we make as a result. Each of us can take steps to enact so much good and good will in this world. Each of us also must face experiences where there is little or nothing we can do to change the situation. We can, as always, choose how we will respond, however.

As the season of Lent begins this month (Ash Wednesday is on February 9) I would invite you to consider ways that you can cultivate your spirit. Lent traditionally is a time for spiritual development. It is a time that people commit to a discipline that will awaken their awareness of their place in this world. Some people pray. Others meditate or read a devotional book. Still others volunteer or go on a diet or quit smoking. The trick is to find something that reminds you- in the words of Annie Dillard above- neither to be asleep at the switch nor believe that we can control the switch in the first place. Both are dangers in this world and life. Lent is a time to do something that feeds your soul and helps you come alive.

This will be a fun and stimulating month at the First Church. I will be on paternity leave for the first few weeks. If you need to reach me, feel free to call my direct line. I will be checking messages. As a result, we have some fine guest preachers who will be here with us on Sunday morning. These are all people I personally have enjoyed as preachers. I am sure you will too. Happy February and here’s to feeling small! See you in church.

January 2005

Many years ago, I saw a special on PBS about men who had been to the moon. (No women have been…yet). The program consisted of a series of interviews with former astronauts talking about their experiences in space and how it had changed them. As would be expected, some were quite practical in their reflections about traveling into space. Others waxed somewhat mystical in relating the effects of space travel on their lives. The one interview that struck me the most, however, was the astronaut who gave a simple, almost childlike response to the question. He reported that the first time he was up in orbit, he looked down at the earth through the window of the capsule and exclaimed, “There are no lines.”

Most of us, when we think about the fragile globe on which we live, consider it by country and by continent. We think of our home as the multi-colored globe that might sit on our bookcase or adorn our desk. But while the shapes of the landmasses and oceans are fixed (somewhat), how we choose to divide them up is a human convention. Looking down from space, there are no lines. There are just swirls of water and clouds and masses of land.

I thought of this interview yesterday with the news of the tsunami that struck in South East Asia. The largest earthquake in almost forty years occurred off the western coast of the island of Sumatra setting off a series of tidal waves of epic proportions. At this writing, some 80,000 are reported dead in 12 countries, and the number will undoubtedly go up from here. This could turn into one of the largest public health crises in recorded history, according to the International Red Cross. (See inside for information about making a donation to the relief effort.)

According to one seismologist I heard interviewed, the earthquake that caused this destruction was so big that its effects were felt around the world. It even altered, if ever so slightly, the earth’s rotational axis. It has been heartening to see the outpouring of concern and support from around the world. In a very odd way there is this sense many of us have that we are really all in this together. This tragedy has become a world tragedy. All of the sudden, just like the astronaut in space, people are viewing the world as without lines, if only for a moment.

While I am sure this moment of clarity will pass, I can’t help but take heart in this sort of worldwide reaction. If we are ever to find the way to peace in this world, we will need a lot more of these realizations about living in a global village. There are so many issues and crises across the planet where small actions on the part of billions of people could make an enormous difference. Quite often we can get overwhelmed when we think about the enormity of the world’s problems. I find it helpful to pick just a few causes and try to work for them. As a new year’s resolution, why not support the relief efforts in Sri Lanka or Indonesia or India. Consider contributing to an AIDS program trying to help the most devastated in Africa. Let our government know that we want them to do something to stop the genocide that has already killed 300,000 people in the Sudan. Sometimes, being a good neighbor in this global village involves simply clicking on a website or writing a small check or a brief letter.

John F. Kennedy once said, “Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children’s future. And we are all mortal.” At times like this, we are reminded of how true this is. Happy New Year and see you in church.

December 2004

Recently I was standing in a stairwell with three diminutive wise men. Actually they were three boys, ages 8,9 and 10, dressed as the famous Kings from the East, as described in the Gospel of Matthew. The boys were waiting for their cue to go on stage in a local production of “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.”

“Hey, move out of my way, you jerk!” one of them screamed. “You move out of MY way, and give me back my crown!” yelled the other. Then began a tug of war of sorts between two of my three regal compatriots, pushing and yelling at each other, all just before marching out on stage to behold the Christ child. Had we had any gold, frankincense or mir, it would surely have spilled on the floor in the tussle.

This is how I have spent a few of my evenings in the last week: babysitting wayward wise men. My son has a small role in this play. He is very excited about it. This means however – as I have discovered (and perhaps should have known) - that I have a role in this play as well – that of “lingering stage parent.” Among other things, I have been in charge of keeping the children quiet off stage and breaking up any fights between the wise men. It is a very strange feeling to try to keep the peace so we can put on a play about the Prince of Peace.

I suppose this irony should not surprise me. After all, the original Christmas story is chock full of it. While we have an idealized, Christmas-pageant conception of the story, the birth narratives about Jesus are full of very real and very human characters who nonetheless encounter something sublime. These are not stories in which the Holy enters the world amidst pomp and circumstance; rather it’s just the opposite. These stories portray God appearing in a new and highly surprising way: through a poor, homeless peasant family in a backwater region of the Roman Empire. The only people who noticed at first were a few grubby little shepherds and some wise men from the East – who we might be surprised to discover, were very much like us.

Perhaps that is just the point. The season of Christmas and the prospects of a Christ child are not intended for perfect, wonderful, smiling people like in all those ads. It is meant to be a culminating event for the rest of us, those who feel like we “walk in darkness,” as the prophet Isaiah said, and who need sometimes to “see a great light.”

The season of Advent and the ensuing Christmas festival remind us of the promise and potential inherent in our lives. It is an invitation to pause amidst the darkest time of the year and remember the world as it could be, not as it is. When we celebrate the birth of the Christ Child, we are in a sense remembering the opportunities and possibilities for peace in our lives and in our world. We are also recognizing how fragile and dependent those opportunities can be – as fragile and dependent as a newborn child. I wish each of you a happy – and peaceful – Christmas season. See you in Church,

November 2004

We interrupt this regularly scheduled newsletter column to bring you a special report:

Hell has frozen over.

That’s right: Hell (even for those of us who don’t really believe in it) hath frozen over completely. A version of the above headline was featured last week in The New York Daily News the morning after the Boston Redsox won the seventh and deciding game in their series against the New York Yankees. What a stupendous win. No team in the history of baseball had ever come back to win a series after being down by three games. It was the stuff of legend.

And now, to top this off, the Boston Redsox have won the 100th World Series. After wandering in the desert for 86 years, the Redsox have finally found the Promised Land. What a great time to be in New England: the decades of mourning has been interrupted by this most bright and happy day. The curse, it would seem, has been lifted.

Now I suppose that this ostensibly has very little to do with religion. The world will still go on with all of its challenges and problems. Our personal lives really will not change as a result of this (unless you are a Redsox player or the poor young woman who died in a freak accident outside of Fenway Park. No game is worth that.) Even so, people are thrilled. F. Scott Fitzgerald once referred to baseball as “the Faith of 50 Million.” There is something to that. This simple game with a bat and a ball evokes an unusual amount of devotion - and heartache.

In a world where the games we all play in this life are not always fair and where the rules are rarely straightforward, I think the appeal of baseball lies in its lack of pretense and sense of fair play. There is something somehow reassuring about the sanctity of a baseball diamond and the game that is played around it – all with the goal of just wanting to go home.

Maybe the significance of a celebration like this one is that it allows people to rally around a group of underdogs who played by the rules, played as hard as they could, never gave up, and then won. Even though it is about a silly baseball game, the hope and grit demonstrated are inspiring. I have never been a huge sports fan, admittedly. But I can’t help but feel that part of what makes this country great is a story like this one—a story 86 years in the making.

Baseball, like life and religion, should be played with hope. It should be played with the full awareness that not any one of us knows what is going to happen until it does. The poet T.S. Eliot once wrote: “Ours is to try. The rest is not our business.” This is true about our lives and it’s true about playing a baseball game—especially when Hell freezes over.

From inspiring worship to ecological discussion groups to Operatic performances, we have quite a month here at the First Church. I hope you can be a part of it. See you in church,

October 2004

The last time we mixed religion and politics,people got burned at the stake.

I saw this on a bumper sticker recently and smirked at its sentiments. There does seem to be a lot of God being mixed into politics these days. The Almighty seems to be invoked at many a political rally. Indeed, one party has pinned their election strategy this year on getting out the “God vote,” that is to say registering some 4 million evangelical, fundamentalist voters.

The problem with a bumper sticker like this is that while its sentiment is true, its premise is false. The message is clear: mixing politics and religion can lead to great social and individual harm. Beware of people who fervently believe that their tradition should govern a colony or a nation or believe that the absolute truth of their faith allows them to perpetrate all sorts of awful crimes in the name of the one true God. This nation is premised on the separation of church and state because of memories of what can happen when bad religion is in control of a society. We here in Salem know a little about this first hand. 20 innocent local people lost their lives as a result.

But amidst this importance of recognizing the separation between church and state, we only delude ourselves if we somehow think that religion has nothing to do with politics. It always has and always will. Religious people’s faith almost always will inform how they approach the world and how they vote. Personal values should matter when people are making decisions about political leadership.

I have read a lot of pundits decrying how the parties are trying to use religion to their advantage, as this is somehow inappropriate or wrong. I think that is silly. To be honest, I wish more thoughtful people would bring their bibles to the ballot box. Maybe we would not be rushing into war. Maybe we would not be giving tax cuts to the ultra rich while the national debt spirals out of control. Maybe we would feel more outraged about the lack of affordable healthcare in this country and the increasing rate of poverty. But, alas, I am showing my own religious bent now. That is just it: none of us can avoid bringing our soul to the poll.

About a month ago in the New York Times, a group (Sojourners) took out an ad that said in large letters: “God is not a Republican – or a Democrat.” Certainly we are wise to remember that as we hear God invoked by the left and right. Tolerance is important. No one has a monopoly on the truth. But everyone in this society should feel it entirely appropriate to bring his or her religion into the voting booth.

We have a great month here at the First Church. I hope you can come be a part of it.

September 2004

You can sometimes tell a lot about people by how they throw parties. I know it sounds a little odd, but how people choose to extend hospitality (and when and to whom) gives you an insight into who they are. The same holds true for churches and other organizations.

On Sunday, August 8, the church celebrated its 375th birthday of sorts. Many of you who attended will agree that it was not your typical summer service, what with almost 200 people present, trumpets blowing, and choirs singing. In addition, we were graced with the presence and preaching of the President of the Unitarian Universalist Association, the Rev. Bill Sinkford. Bill did a great job of speaking to the importance of our progressive religious history AND the current demands of our religious faith. All in all it was a splendid event that was attended by just as many people from the community as church members. My thanks to all who helped to make our 375th Anniversary celebration a success.

An event like this shows a lot a about the growing sense of community here at the First Church. Between the fellowship hour (you should have seen the spread!) and all the people who volunteered to make the service happen, everyone had the feeling that the old First Church is 375 years young, with a spirit that is very much alive and active. The First Church is finding itself growing stronger with age, with a renewed sense of ministry and mission. For example, the collection for the day raised some $1,100 (a new summer record- that’s for sure!), which was donated to the Salem Mission and the Food Pantry at the Universalist Church here in Salem. All in all, it was a wonderful event and a testament to the wonderful community spirit here at the First Church. We are becoming a lively, independent and progressive UU Christian church and finding that we have a message that resonates with an increasing number of people.

Hospitality, service and mission: these are a few of the things important in church and important in life. I am reminded of the quotation that was placed at the top of the Order of Service on August 8. It was by a former minister of this church, the Rev. James Luther Adams:

Church is the place where you get to practice what it means to be human.

We have a very active series of months planned with a new RE Director and programs and events galore. Homecoming Sunday will be September 12. In addition, we have a memorial service planned on Saturday September 18 for Deacon Bill Robinson, who passed away on August 21. As someone who exemplified the First Church spirit, he will be dearly missed.

See you in church...