by Jennifer Schnayer, Summer Minister

A sermon given July 29, 2001

First Unitarian Church

Portland, Oregon

CALL TO WORSHIP

We gather today as a church community to witness against injustice, to give praise for the wonder of creation and to acknowledge our need for one another as we journey through life.  May our time together bring us the hope we need this day.  Come, let us worship together.

CHALICE LIGHTING STATEMENT

Leah Thompson

May we have peace, love, kindness and understanding in our families and in our world.

READINGS

Elizabeth Thompson

I feel a connection to my Grandmothers, even though one of them died before I was born. Though I never got to meet her, I feel like I know her.  My grandmother who died, my dad's mom, I know mostly through the stories I hear about her and how we're similar.  I'll be gardening or listening to classical music and my dad will say “Your grandmother used to like to do that,” or my dad will tell me I look like my grandmother.  He also tells me that just because she's not living anymore doesn't mean she's gone.  I believe she's living in the heart of everyone who loves her.  I believe that she is my guardian angel and if I have a special wish sometimes I ask her to grant it.  The stories I am told reflect many of her good qualities.  One story I've heard is how she really kept her promises.  When my father was in high school, my grandmother got in a horrible car crash and everyone thought she would die. My father went in to see her and she said, “I won't die until your first child is born.”  She recovered from the car crash, although she wasn't able to walk quite as well after that.  A couple years later, she got breast cancer, but she fought it off and it died down for a long time.  When my mother was pregnant with Scott, the breast cancer came back.  Just after my brother was born, my mom and dad were planning to take him and go see my grandmother. She knew he had been born and had seen pictures of him.  The day before they were scheduled to go, my uncle called and said that my grandmother had died.  My grandmother kept her promise even though the going was rough.  From everything I hear, she seems to have been a wonderful person.  I'm glad I have been told I'm like her.

My other grandmother is an energetic person who I know very well.  Her Sufi name, Aftab, means sun, so we call her either Grammy Aftab or Grandmother sun.  She is warm, energetic and makes people happy, just like the sun.  She also has a wonderful sense of humor.  I love just chatting with her.  She understands everything, it seems, and will talk about it all with me.  She comes and spends Christmas with us many years.  Even if it’s not a holiday or a birthday, she still brings us wonderful presents when she comes to visit. That’s just one thing she does to show she cares for us.  She says that as a grandmother she is entitled to spoil us, and she says when my mother is a grandmother she will probably spoil our children too.  She always seems to know just the thing to say the moment it’s needed.  Some of the stories I am told about her remind me that sometimes the things which seem the worst when they happen make the best stories, funny or touching, or both.  And that often things make you unhappy only because they didn’t happen the way you had planned.  My grandmothers are very important and are role models for me.  I’m sure they will continue to teach me throughout my life.

Ric Spence

Roger and I have been together for over twenty wonderful years now.  When Roger tells his side of the story, he may have a different version, but still, we are a family.  Throughout my life, usually at funerals, I have heard people speak regretfully of not having told the ones they love how they felt.  So a few years ago, before a solo excursion to Australia to see family, I wanted to make sure that Roger knew how I felt, just in case fate kept us apart.  Later, I would read this poem to him at our commitment ceremony as well.  This poem also helps to express my feelings to you, the members of our church family.  It is entitled Thoughts of You:

When taking stock of relationships in my life, you are the first to come to mind.

As I look at my life and realize all the bounties bestowed upon me, I think of you with great love and fondness.

Heaven is the love that surrounds me every day.  I love you every day.

You are caring, you are loving, you are thoughtful.

You open your arms, your heart and welcome me into your life as I am.

Others may break my body and take all I own, but they can never take my love for you.

For each day I live in love, I live in joy.  You are that love, that joy.

When my life is over, your love is the only thing I can take with me, yet give back before I go.

SERMON

Jennifer Schnayer

When I began to plan this service about families, I knew I wanted to lift up the voices of the families that worship here.  When I plan a sermon, I normally research and read about the topic, and search my own experience and the experiences of people I know—looking for the stories that might teach us, that might open our hearts.  When I chose to preach about families, I knew that the voices I wanted to be heard were yours, and so instead of hearing your stories and retelling them myself, I asked the people I spent time with to tell their stories themselves.  Each one has an important message.

When I met with both Ric and Roger and the Thompsons, Catherine, John, Scott, Elizabeth and Leah, I went with this idea in mind.  Ours is a faith that asks you to turn to your own life experience and the world’s religious wisdom to discern your religious beliefs and then build a moral life from the foundation of those beliefs.  If this is so, then our families are important sources of our religious understanding.  What are your families teaching you about life?  How are your families shaping your religious understanding and vice-versa?  What wisdom and blessing do you receive from your families?  Not every family brings what we hope for, but we still have hope in the family.  I know that after being with these seven people, my hope in family, and in the way of our faith, is strengthened.

Roger Wyatt

What is a family?  According to the Random House Webster’s College Dictionary, a family is any group of persons closely related by blood, as parents, children, uncles, aunts and cousins, or a group of people who are generally not blood relations, but who share common attitudes, interests or goals.

There are many ways to describe a family and there are many types of families.  One might consider the people they work with as their family, or perhaps if you car pool, that could be your family.  If you play sports, your fellow teammates could be a family.  I consider this church to be a family.  But these are not the types of family I want to talk about today.

My partner Ric and I are a family.  However, I haven’t always been with Ric.  There was a time when I was part of a traditional family.  I had a wife, a car, a house and two children, but it was not as it seemed.  I was never really happy, because deep down I knew that I was different, that I wanted something different in my life.  I struggled with this feeling, this yearning, for several years, until I met Ric.  It was then that I had to make some kind of adjustment in my life.  I could go on playing the game that I had been playing for sixteen years.  Or, I could make a choice and follow my longing.  It would be a very difficult choice to make, but a choice that had to be made.  It meant giving up my security, leaving my wife, losing my house and leaving my children.  It meant giving up all the traditional family values, or at least family values as society views them.

Leaving home wasn’t easy.  When I left, I was told that I would never be able to see my children again.  Never see my children again, I thought, that would be tough.  My house, my car, even my wife, were secondary, but never to be able to see my kids again, that was unthinkable.  Still, I had to make a decision and, in the end, I feel like it was the right decision, one that was best for my family and for me.  Ric and I became a family.

At first, it was a little strange for me not to be with my biological family, but as time went on, I adjusted.  We became more and more like a traditional family.  We bought a car, and then a house.  It wasn’t long before we had all the comforts of home, so to speak.  And, even though I had been told that I would never be able to see my children again, it wasn’t long before I was celebrating birthdays with them, and seeing them for a bit on the holidays.  After a few years, I began to see them more and more.  These visits were always “squeezed in.”  An hour here, an hour there.  Then, gradually, I saw them more and more.  Eventually, I was being invited for dinner at my ex-wife’s house.  After a period of time, Ric was invited to come and celebrate the holidays with my son and daughter, and even with my ex-wife.

It was never my intention to abandon my family and I was always there for them anytime they needed me.  Even when I was unemployed, I made sure that my child support payments were the first thing to be paid out of my unemployment checks.  Ric and I made it very clear to them that if they ever needed anything, we would be there for them.  In fact, we helped both my son and my daughter financially, so that they were able to go to school, and we continued to do things for Carolyn (my ex) at her house.

It took me a while—ten years—before I was brave enough to introduce Ric to my parents.  One time when I was visiting them, my dad said, “When are you going to bring your roommate to meet us?”  “Roommate” was putting it nicely; I don’t think he knew how else to put it.  So, the next time I went to visit them, Ric came with me.  We didn’t know what to expect, but my parents and Ric hit it off at once.  Now whenever I visit my parents, if Ric isn’t with me, I never hear the end of it and neither does he.  One time, I went to visit and Ric couldn’t come, he had to work or something.  All my dad could say the whole weekend was, “I wish Ric was here.  I really miss Ric.”  I felt like saying, “Dad, I am your son.  I am here.”  I think that things have developed now to the point that Ric and I are considered part of the family.  My son and his wife have given us two beautiful granddaughters, and our daughter is soon to give us another grandchild.

We try to have Hanna, our eldest grandchild, over to our house at least once a month.  Her parents want her to realize that she has two grandpas, and that this is perfectly o.k.  Hanna is getting to be quite a handful, but she is a joy to have around.  (However, I must admit that it is great when Sunday evening rolls around and we can take her back to her mommy and daddy).

I met Ric’s parents while they were still living.  They took me in and treated me just like their son.  They were great and his brother and sisters treat me like one of the family, which is more than I can say for my own brothers.  Neither one of them approve of my lifestyle.  My older brother tolerates it, and my younger doesn’t want to discuss it.

One thing I must make clear is that I am not trying to paint a rosy picture for gay relationships.  Ric and I have been very fortunate.  Such is not the case with a lot of gay couples that we know.  Ric and I have had twenty wonderful, grand, glorious years together.  We have had our ups and downs, our happy times and our sad times.  Most married couples do.

We decided to celebrate our twenty years together with a commitment ceremony held right here in this church last month.  Members of our family were present, as well as members of our church family.  It made us feel so good to be able to share this experience with the people we love.  As I indicated earlier, we consider this church and all of you to be a part of our family.  We both feel very comfortable here and enjoy the fellowship that we have with all of you.  I want to close by paraphrasing something I heard just a few weeks ago.  Jennifer and her husband Stu came to our house for dinner.  As they were leaving, Stu said to Ric and I, “I love you.”  Then he turned and said to Jennifer, “But I am in love with you.”  This is how Ric and I feel about our family, we love them dearly and would do anything in the world for them.  But we are in love with each other.

John Thompson

As you might imagine, with a family of five people, those little opportunities for “conflict resolution” occur with some regularity in our house.  Our children, Scott, 15, Elizabeth, 13, and Leah, late 7's, and the two of us, John and Catherine, have had some satisfaction trying to pursue this topic as a skill to be learned like any other.  As parents, one of the wonderful revelations for us has been to observe how these efforts have played out.  Just when the two of us think that little of what we have discussed has been assimilated, some event occurs to let us know otherwise.  Probably the first instance I remember was at one of Scott's parent-teacher conferences in 2nd or 3rd grade. His teacher told us a story about overhearing Scott talking to two classmates about the principles of conflict resolution!  She thought this was somewhat adult-sounding for a boy his age and wanted to know what was behind the story.  Similar conversations are sometimes overheard at home when interpersonal storm clouds are brewing.  A snippet such as “Can you tell me what Leah's point of view is?” might make its way into the kitchen as we are working on dinner.

We thought it might be fun to describe some of the ideas we've talked about as a family, and then to see what Scott has to say about the topic independently.  As we've talked about this topic together for many years, it is hard to be succinct.  However, here are the main points we've stressed:

1.   Start by seeking to understand the other person's point of view and feelings first.

We've talked a lot about listening to yourself.  Do you find yourself repeating the same thing multiple times?  Are you repeatedly defending your point of view?  If so, the chances are quite high that meaningful communication has ceased.

See if you can echo back the other person's point-of-view to their satisfaction.  Once they know you've actually heard and understood what they are trying to say, they are much more likely to be interested in your point of view.  Ask if they are willing to do the same for you.  Hearing and understanding someone's point-of-view is different than agreeing with it.  However, it is useful information in seeking mutually acceptable solutions.

2.      What are the feelings that are going on, both yours and theirs?

Sometimes it can be hard to identify how you or the other person is feeling.  In this case, the energy created (particularly by the negative feelings) can drive counter-productive behavior rather than serving as a motivation for resolution.

Can you understand how the other person might be feeling the way they are?  Can you communicate your empathy?  Sometimes a simple statement such as, “I'm sorry your feelings were hurt” or “I certainly didn't intend to make you feel bad,” can go a long way in building a bridge across the region of conflict.  It can be hard to do this if you think “I'm sorry” means “I'm wrong.”  Regardless of the issue of blame, it is important to convey your empathy for the other's feelings if you are to be able to move on to details of a solution.

3.      Are their common principles that might be applicable to help you arrive at a solution that both of you can accept?

We've stressed the golden rule.  Others, such as the UU principles, are a good starting point.  Sometimes being able to refer to a mutually accepted standard makes it much easier to give up or modify a position that has solidified through conflict.

I'd like to stop and let Scott have a chance to talk about conflict resolution from his viewpoint.

Scott Thompson

As my dad explained, in a family of five people, there are times when problem-solving is needed.  I understand several main points of what my dad has tried to teach me and I try to use them with my family, friends and acquaintances.

The first, and probably the most important, aspect is respect for other people and their ideas.  When a conflict arises, I try to step back, acknowledge the other person’s point-of-view, and respect it regardless of whether I agree or not. Thus, the other person feels like I understand them and will be more likely to listen to what I have to say.  By repeating my own point of view over and over again, I accomplish nothing.  If the person doesn’t listen the first time, he or she probably won’t listen the second time, unless I take the time to listen to them.  Once this initial step has been taken, some sort of compromise can be reached.  To help me learn this, my dad would sit down with the person I had a conflict with and me.  He would have one of us say our opinion to the other person and have that person repeat it back, to make sure the opinion was understood.  Then the other person and I would switch.  Now when I run into a conflict, I attempt to do this without any help from dad.

Another important aspect of conflict resolution I have learned from my dad is identifying your feelings.  My dad tells me that when you get into a conflict, usually it is because of various feelings.  In order to control my actions, I try to know what my feelings are and what causes them.  Once I find out what my feelings are, I can find a way to deal with them.  With two sisters in my family, there is often much jealousy over attention from our parents.  Ever since I was little, I remember my dad encouraging me to tell him when I felt jealous, so he could try to remedy that.  This often occurred because, as the eldest, any time my position as “Big Dog” was threatened, I felt jealous.  Now when I get these feelings I try to appreciate my sisters’ accomplishments rather than be jealous of them.  That way, I don’t take out my jealousy and anger over it on them.

One of the main points my sisters and I forget sometimes about conflict resolution is that you can only change what you’re doing, not what someone else is doing.  Occasionally, we concentrate on what the other people should do to solve the problem rather than what we individually can do.  This results in large arguments because no one is able to make a sacrifice to solve the problem.  Usually when I am willing to change my actions, the other person is also more willing to do so.  I have been working at a summer day camp recently as a part-time counselor.  The kids I work with are aged 5 to 8.  Working with that age group, I am given plenty of chance to resolve conflicts.  Often I try to pass on to them the concepts my dad has taught to me.

These concepts of conflict resolution are reinforced by the First and Second Principles we learn in church.  The First teaches the inherent worth and dignity of every person and the second teaches justice, equity and compassion in human relations.  The golden rule, “Treat others as you would like to be treated,” also forms a basis for my system of conflict resolution.  Using these principles that I learned at an early age here at First Church, my dad has helped me become proficient in resolving conflicts, something I will use everyday for the rest of my life.

Catherine Thompson

Here we all are, yearning for family, to be family, to have the family that we create as adults avoid the pitfalls of the one we grew up in, to do it just right. At the same time, we are individuals with needs and desires, some that we do not even recognize until we feel the pull of family or relationship overwhelming them.  It is not surprising that we cannot do it perfectly; in fact, it is somewhat surprising that we can do it at all.  In the end, or perhaps as we go along, we move in and out of families, at times honoring ties of blood or love, and at other times letting those ties break or change.  Sometimes we are left only with the memory of a relationship that is no longer alive.  Even these we return to in our hearts from time to time, measuring the gains, assessing the damages, using the material of that relationship to make new choices.  Sometimes someone whom we love dies, and yet they are woven into who we are, an inextricable part of our family.

My own family of birth taught me so much and yet left me searching for something that fit my own dreams better.  We lived on a farm when I was young and I am grateful for the experience of wide open spaces and the excitement of just going out the door on a summer day to see what nature had to offer. My father was a great storyteller and he loved to explore ideas.  My mother made homemade bread and Halloween costumes and took us swimming every day when it was hot.  My father taught me how to read and to ride a bike and held me in his lap all the way to the hospital when I broke my leg.  When I was a teenager, their marriage fell apart with infidelity and violence.  My dad moved away.  Our relationship flickered and I could no longer depend on him. As he aged he had bouts of anger and was unpredictable, unreliable.  When our first child was born, my Dad started to come to see me again and with time he began telling stories to my children.  When in the end of his life he became ill and was in and out of the hospital, my brothers and I, and even my mother, helped him get settled back in his own apartment with the support he needed.  When he required a higher level of care, a social worker called to see if I would like him to move from San Francisco to Portland for that care.  I was not sure I could do it, but after searching my heart I thought I would be willing to try.  I called him and told him we would be making arrangements for him to come live nearby.  I think he was happy about it. Then a few days later he died.  My hope for him in the end, as he suffered and became confused, was that he would feel cared for and not feel alone.  I think we were able to do that for him as a family.

I learned so much from my father, but it was not easy.  I figured out one important thing, though.  When I chose a life partner, I knew what mattered.  I wanted someone I could trust, someone who shared my values and dreams and someone with whom I could communicate my deepest feelings and thoughts.  I wanted the passion without the chaos, without the unpredictability.  After twenty years with John, I feel unbelievably fortunate to have found exactly what I was looking for, and then so much more, enhanced as it has been by the depth of our experience.  Our children have brought so much richness to our lives with their individual spirits and personalities.  They have taught me more than any one else about love, about patience, about change.  I have learned how you need to make room for who they are, in spite of the things you want to teach them.  And I have learned to make room for myself in this family of many responsibilities and obligations.  I know now that in a healthy family there is an ecology of sorts, in which the parts are interconnected and each part is getting its most important needs met.  At the same time, the parts support the health and vitality of the whole.  There are sacrifices, there are compromises and there is a kind of integrity that lets no part go unrecognized nor unsupported.  Of course, the whole system is always growing and changing, moving imperceptibly in new directions.  As with any vibrant living system, parts get out of balance, there is stress, and the whole needs to flex to come back into harmony.  A living thing comes with no real guarantees, just optimistic good will and an inherent desire to keep the whole alive.  There must be faith in the natural process of life, which requires growth to renew itself.  After twenty years of riding this tide I trust the journey.

John said something to me just before our first child was born, when faced with the inevitable fear that something would be wrong.  He said, “Don’t worry, everything will be just fine, and if not, together we will be able to cope with it.”  This is the kind of faith that family is based on.  All of us move in and out of the ability to make it work and it is, of course, rarely perfect.  We find family with different people at different points in our lives with varying degrees of success. If we are lucky, we recognize it when we find it, we nurture it and we hold it close, even as it inevitably slips away in time.  As the mortal aspects come to their inevitable destiny, the immortal qualities are carried forward by the next generation of our families and by all whom we have touched.

Holy One, we know that in any family there is pain and loss mingled with the moments of joy.  Help us to feel connected to each other here, in this church family.  Help us to discover the richness that is alive within our families, whether they be our chosen families, blood families or church families.  May we have the love and faith it takes to bring our family connections to life and sustain them over the long haul.  Amen.

BENEDICTION

Go now, and may the connections you weave with one another grow ever stronger, and may you find peace and hope in the relationships that lie close to your heart.  Go in love this day.  Amen.

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Copyright 2001, Jennifer Schnayer.  All rights reserved.