Reverend Dr. Marilyn Sewell

First Unitarian Church
Portland, Oregon

October 28, 1996

Blessed be my brain
that I may conceive of my own power.
Blessed be my breast
that I may give sustenance to those I love.
Blessed be my womb
that I may create what I choose to create.
Blessed be my knees
that I may bend so as not to break.
Blessed be my feet
that I may walk in the path of my highest will.

"The Network of the Imaginary Mother"
Robin Morgan

Let me begin this morning with a parable--the parable of the pillow and the alarm clock. One upon a time in a land far away there lived a people who in many ways were much like us. They lived with each other in small family groupings, had jobs that they worked at, paid taxes to an inefficient government, went on vacations once a year, and were making monthly payments to their children's orthodontist.

There was one big difference, however, and that was in their religion. Instead of worshipping a god of gods, in the image of which they claimed to have been created, or instead of worshipping the god within themselves, they worshipped two inanimate objects, both of which were installed in a place of honor in the community temple.

One of these inanimate objects was a pillow. The other was an alarm clock.

The pillow was large, very large, the kind one could sit in and cuddle up to, and pull close to one. Built into the pillow was a recording device, so that when one drew oneself into the embrace of the pillow, the voice would speak.

"Everything is all right," the pillow would say. "Just relax and lean on me. I will take care of you and keep you warm. There is no danger. The problems you see will all be taken care of. The anxieties you had when you came to me are gone. Now you feel warm and comfortable and secure, and all your worries are over."

The citizens of this land far away and once upon a time went to the pillow's embrace often: after a hard day one the job, after an argument with one's spouse or companion, after one's children were insubordinate, after receiving a rebuke or a fine from a traffic officer, after any experience which was painful or frustrating.

And the pillow always comforted them, the pillow never disappointed them. It was always there, always available to listen to their troubles, always ready with words of solace and sympathy.

The other object that the people of this land once upon a time and far away worshipped was also in the community temple. It was a huge alarm clock, in a room all by itself. It too had a tape-recorded voice within it. And when a citizen sat on a hard, straight chair in the center of the room, the alarm clock would ring loudly and shout, "Wake up. Come to your senses. Be aware of what's happening around you. Notice. Consider the consequences of your actions. Consider the consequences of the actions of others. Get the facts. Be receptive to new and better ways of doing things. Define the problem. Remember the super-ordinate goal. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. " And the alarm clock would ring loudly again.

Although these two objects of worship were accorded equal stature--according to the sacred writings of their religion, neither was more important than the other--the pillow, for some reason, was more popular. Although the alarm clock was always available to them, the people of this land seemed to turn more often to the pillow. When there was trouble of any kind, they appreciated the sympathy of the pillow more than the inspiration of the alarm clock. It was much easier for them to assume that the cause of the trouble was not within themselves, but somewhere "out there," and the pillow made them feel better about it.

In fact, they resented the alarm clock for suggesting that they might have been the cause of the trouble themselves and that they ought to get up off their fat pillow and solve the problem themselves. Whenever they turned to the alarm clock, they felt guilty about what it told them, and then they had to exert themselves to do something about the trouble. And it was hard word. Eventually, the people of this land stopped listening to the alarm clock altogether.

How do I know all this? I have just returned from an expedition to this land far away. The people, of course, have all since died, consumed by an unknown problem which they evidently were unable or unwilling to try to solve.

The most fascinating part of my journey was visiting the community temple where they worshipped. The alarm clock had somehow magaged to move itself into the room where the pillow was. It was curled up in the embrace of the pillow, and the tape-recorded voice of the pillow was saying, "Everything is all right. Just relax and lean on me. I will take care of you and keep you warm. There is no danger. The problems you see will all be taken care of. The anxieties you had when you came to me are gone. Now you feel warm and comfortable and secure, and all your worries are over.

There is an election coming up soon, a presidential election, an election for members of Congress, and many local elections. What is disheartening to me is that I hear so few alarms being sounded.

Only third party candidates, radicals, and reformers seem to be trying to wake us up, trying to get us to address the real problems: campaign finance reform, the budget deficit, the growing gap between the wealthy and everyone else, the inordinate control that corporations exert over almost every aspect of our lives, the alienation of a massive underclass that is fighting literally for survival. Bob Dole is telling us two things, loud and clear--he has good character and we should have a tax cut. To him I would say, "I'm glad you have good character--but, hey, that's not enough. Ask Jimmy Carter." And then Clinton. He's saying whatever you want to hear. Dick Morris, his former spin doctor, taught him well: "Be more like Dole than Dole is." And so Clinton says, "You want a tax cut? Fine." "You want family values? Here's my version." You want to end welfare as we know it? Sure, why not?" Though this welfare reform bill is predicted to put another 1,000,000 children into poverty. Both candidates take big money from high places, and they are allowed to do so under our system. Until this changes, a few special interests will dictate the agenda of our government--and that agenda will not include all of us. We don't have leadership in high places--we have pandering.

Let's stop now and think for a moment about leadership. We long for it in this country, and some Americans find false messiahs--cult leaders, the armed militia movement, TV preachers--because so many Americans feel rudderless in a sea that threatens to swallow them up. But what characterizes a true leader? How would we know one if we saw one?

First of all I would say that a true leader doesn't allow us to deny what is, but rather admits and then names the fear. Just puts it on the table. The message isn't always one that we want to hear, but the authentic leader cares more about the truth, cares more about the institution, or the state, or the country than about being popular. I happen to be an admirer of Governor Kitzhaber because I think he is such a leader. During the last Legislative session, he vetoed 52 bills because he thought they were flawed in one way or another. And fifty of those vetoes held. He was invited to speak at the national Democratic Convention, but when fires broke out here in Oregon, he thought that he was needed here, so he cancelled his trip. A man more personally ambitious might not have done that.

Personal ambition and ego aggrandizement are temptations for any leader, but these will lead to spiritual corruption and eventually to a loss of integrity, for a true leader must be a servant, given over to purposes beyond ego.

Leadership is not management--these are two different arenas. Management brings order and stability. Management keeps things running smoothly. But leadership often introduces a bit of chaos, stirs the pot, opens up new ways of perceiving or of being. Leadership, then, is about vision--about looking into the future and understanding the demands of the times.

Leadership is about being willing to stand in your own truth, being willing to risk. Whoever would be a leader cannot need safety or security too much, cannot need to be loved too much. Because whoever takes a stand becomes visible and whoever becomes visible becomes a target. Hence, the strength that is necessary for leadership--clarity and vision and courage. A leader needs self-confidence, but never arrogance. He needs humility, which gives him the ability to admit that he is wrong; she needs the ability to change her mind when the evidence warrants it.

Above all, a leader needs to understand that what she does, she can never do alone. The real challenge of leadership is to call forth leadership from everyone. That's right, from everyone. No one person can know it all or do it all. A leader needs to develop what one writer calls "a culture of trust," in which everyone shares common values and a common mission. They work together, not in an adversarial mode, but in collaboration, in what might be called "alliance-based relationships." They move in a positive way, building upon their strengths.

There is a democratization, a flattening out, of structure in a well-functioning organization, so that people are given freedom and indeed encouraged to be creative and to take risks and to make mistakes. Everyone in the organization needs to feel valued and trusted. Everyone needs to experience joy and satisfaction from the piece they contribute to the whole. One of my staff said to me recently, "You know, if one of us is hurting, then we're all hurting. There is no such thing as win/lose--because no one can win unless everyone wins." I thought that was beautiful. We are that dependent upon one another, and it is good to know it.

In our church, I would hope that every member would be doing ministry, not just the ministers. It is the job of the ministers and the staff to empower others, to call forth from you, the congregants, your gifts and your offerings to the larger ministry of the church. We need to emphasize the spiritual nature of our work in the church--our social justice program might be called "the ministry of social justice," so we would emphasize that we are not just one more political action group. I've even teased Kirk Stevens, our treasurer, about heading up the "ministry of finance"--sounds like something from the novel1984 !

A few months back one of our new members said to me, "I'm concerned that I don't see more people of color in the church. What is the church doing about that?" I told her that this is an area where we have done some good work, and we are making some progress, but then I said, "You know, you have joined the church, and so when you the "the church," you mean yourself. You are the church. What would you like to do to help with this effort?" And I assured her that we would be open to her ideas and her energy.

I have seen outstanding leadership exercised in this church, in many different ways. A few weeks ago, our custodian overslept the 8:30 service. Well, a lot has to be done to prepare the church for that early service, so a bit of panic set in. But everything got done. Barry, one of our homeless members, took the initiative to pick up the bottles and trash that had accumulated in front of the church, and very kindly woke up a group of people who were sleeping out on the front steps if they would please move to a new location so people could get in the church door. That's leadership!

There are so many other examples--people like Scott Clark and Megan Glor, who are involving hundreds of our members in our Habitat for Humanity project, which we're doing with several African American churches. Arnie Picar, who organized the city-wide ecumenical conference on church safety which will be held in our sanctuary this afternoon. Cole Brecheen--our canvass chair, with his charts and easy-to-hear message about financial giving. Celebration Sunday was a day to remember--when was giving ever so much fun? That's great leadership! Leadership that honors people and yet challenges them.

I want to say a word about ministerial leadership. Being a minister in a denomination that has as its watchword "question authority" is a tricky business. We do value the individual here, and we treasure the free conscience. And yet in some of our churches, this very strength leads to one of our greatest weaknesses--an undermining of ministerial authority and power. Fortunately, this church throughout its history has had a deep respect for ministry, and this is one reason why I chose to come here. As minister and people, I believe we need to work together in a covenantal relationship toward common goals, and I believe we do just that.

I believe that the most significant role that I play, the role that undergirds anything else I might do, is that of spiritual leader. I am called to serve as best I can the purposes of the Holy. So I do not fundamentally belong to myself. I am beholden to the Mystery, to the One Whose Name I Cannot Know.

And then the "calling out" function is one that is important. It has to do with trust, respect, encouragement. It is a kind of beckoning of the Holy from within each one of you. Each of you is precious, and each of you has gifts beyond measure to give, and I want to invite those gifts, to draw them out, and watch your pleasure as you place them on the altar.

Part of my role is prophetic, to say, "Woe to you," when you are going astray--or we as a culture are going astray. I point to a new way, a new place, both in my own heart and in yours, because in truth I struggle with all the same human stuff you struggle with.

Because of my position, and because of the history and tradition of this church, I also have a public ministry to perform--both in our community and in our denomination. Each minister who has stayed any length of time in this church developed a public ministry, starting with Thomas Lamb Eliot, who founded or co-founded almost every charitable institution in the city. Because my gifts lie in the realm of writing and speaking, that is where I will make my contribution.

I enjoy my work tremendously, or in truth I wouldn't be doing it. But leadership has a cost. I don't like being in a goldfish bowl all the time. I don't like the projections that make me into some kind of combination mother, boss, and God figure. And it can be lonely. I don't know any way of getting around this stuff--it seems to come with the territory.

But I feel I am in the right place, doing the right thing. And that's enough. That's more than enough, in truth. This is how I work out my own salvation. These words from poet Adrienne Rich speak to me:

The longer I live the more I mistrust
theatricality, the false glamour cast
by performance, the more I know its poverty beside
the truths we are salvaging from
the splitting-open of our lives.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . there come times--perhaps this is one of them--
when we have to take ourselves more seriously or die;
when we have to pull back from the incantations,
rhythms we've moved to thoughtlessly,
and disenthrall ourselves, bestow
ourselves to silence, or a deeper listening, cleansed
of oratory, formulas, choruses, laments, static
crowding the wires. We cut the wires,
find ourselves in free-fall, as if
our true home were the undimensional
solitudes, the rift
in the Great Nebula.
No one who survives to speak
new language, has avoided this:
the cutting-away of an old force that held her
rooted to an old ground
the pitch of utter loneliness
where she herself and all creation
seem equally dispersed, weightless, her being a cry
to which no echo comes or can ever come.

Who is a true leader? The times call for greatness, and we have little enough of it. We need those leaders at all levels--not just political, but in every arena--we ourselves need to become those leaders, at whatever cost, who will forget the performance, who will bestow ourselves to silence, to a deeper listening, who will risk all, who will cut the wires and find ourselves in free fall, who will find truth by the splitting-open of our lives.

So be it.


PRAYER

O Holy One, One Whose Name We Cannot Know, wake us up and set our tasks before us. We are a gifted people, and yet we so often squander those gifts or dishonor them or refuse to accept them. Forgive us when we do so, and show each one of us here today a way to minister, to give from the deep well of holiness within. So we ourselves shall be greatly blessed.
Amen.

Copyright © 2000, Reverend Dr. Marilyn Sewell. All rights reserved.