Sermon given by Rev. Frank Clarkson, January 5, 2019
Note: Rev. Frank had a young helper in the pulpit for a portion of this sermon. You can hear the child’s voice, and Frank’s responses, on the recording.
My last week in seminary, at a gathering of those of us about to graduate, one of the faculty gave us a warning. She said, “If you haven’t already learned this in your time here—let me tell you—that ministry is not about getting your own needs met, is not about feeling successful and powerful; if we haven’t already disabused you of this notion, then hear me now: ministry is not about you. Too often people go into this work for the wrong reasons; they forget that they are in it to serve, not to be served. And in pursuing their own gratification, they end up doing all kinds of harm. Don’t do that, to others or to yourself.”
Our worship theme for January is “Power.” And I wonder about your relationship with power. Do you see yourself as a powerful person? Or do you feel powerless? What about power as an idea, a force in the world? Are you in favor of power? Or are you uncomfortable with it, because so often power has been abused? You must know those words from the 19th century historian Lord Acton: “Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.” We come by our distrust of power honestly. But a recent psychological study found that power itself doesn’t corrupt; rather, “it heightens pre-existing ethical tendencies.” Some people are good at handling power, and some people, not so much. Stories of abuse of power make the news, because they are the exception, not the rule. Every day lots of ordinary people go out and do their jobs and use their power for good.
That said, on this day I feel compelled to begin with the negative side of power. To remind you that we each have the power to screw things up, to make a mess, to hurt people and do harm. And if you don’t know this, if you aren’t aware of the danger, if you aren’t in touch with your own shadow side, then you are more likely to bumble around and make messes and leave a trail of destruction in your wake. And you don’t want to do this!
We all make mistakes, we all mess us sometimes. What our culture seems to be forgetting, these days, and what precious few leaders are showing us, is how to hold power responsibly and well. How to be powerful and humble. How, when we mess us, to confess our faults, and take responsibility for our actions, and make amends and start over again.
This is one of the things that religion should be good for, and know how to do. Helping people hang in and work through things after a breach of trust or a betrayal. Rather than running away. Helping us work through hard things, and see this as holy work, this hard work of healing and reconciliation. This is what I think of as being faithful: speaking the truth, even when it’s hard. Showing up, when it would be easier no to. We have this covenant here, it’s on the wall in the Murray Room. We should say it out loud, to each other, more often, so we remember our intent and our promise to stay in relationship with one another.
But church people often have an uneasy relationship with power. You heard this in Martin Luther King’s words about how the concepts of love and power have been seen as opposites. Back in 1967, Dr. King said,
“Now, we got to get this thing right. What is needed is a realization that power without love is reckless and abusive, and that love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love.”
We have more power than we know, for good and for ill. It’s easy to find the negative examples, when someone takes an action that harms other people. It’s harder to see the ways people are using their power for good. But they are all around, just often hidden, because they happen without fanfare.
If I asked you to tell me of a person who has made a positive difference in your life, each of you could tell a story about that. But how often have you heard about the difference you have made? Certainly you have made differences for others, that you are unaware of. Can you have faith in this? Can you trust that you possess a power greater than you know?
There’s a song that I hope we can learn this month. People sang it in South Africa during the struggle against apartheid, and it goes “Power, O Lord, give us power, O Lord, give us power, O Lord, give us power.” There are other parts, and you can add in words like freedom and justice. I’ve sung it in a large gathering, and it’s a powerful experience, to sing out with other people. You know this, don’t you? I’m not a very good singer, and I know how standing next to a strong singer can embolden me, can help me to sing out louder and better, and provide a bit of cover too.
How many of you have a powerful voice that you aren’t using? Or aren’t using as fully as you might? To sing, or to speak up, or to soothe someone in need? To confront injustice or to offer encouragement?
Here is the question I want to ask, I need to ask, on this day, at the start of this new year: what are you going to do with the power you have? How will you use your power?
I hope that you will keep this question before you. Ask it when you wake up in the morning, and when you lie down to sleep at night. How will I use my power? Tape it to your mirror or refrigerator. How will I use my power?
After a coffee half-hour today we are having a congregational meeting, when we will talk about and then vote on whether to embark on a capital campaign to make some important and long-awaited improvements here. So we can better live into our mission, so we can better be a beacon of hope and faith and justice-making for our wider community.
And I see this as about claiming our power. Letting our light shine. Seizing the energy and the possibility of this moment and doing something good and transformative here, that will make a difference for generations to come. Two thousand years ago, Jesus said “You are the light of the world. But nobody lights a candle and then hides it under a bushel basket. No, you lift it up high so it gives light to everyone in the whole house.” He said, “Let you light shine” (Matthew 5:14-16).
It can be tempting to hide your light, and keep your expectations low, because that way you might avoid the risk of being disappointed, of failing. It can even sound reasonable to caution against taking risks, to say, “Not yet.” To question if now is the right time.
But if not now, when? Isn’t this present moment, the only time we really have, isn’t this the time to seize the power we do have, and put it to work for good? Isn’t now the time to mend that relationship, or seek that new opportunity, or find a new way to serve? What us as a congregation? The world out there is on fire right now. Our earth is in trouble, and people are hurting and afraid. What are we going to do about it? How will we use our power?
This is no time for tepid faith. Our world needs this life-affirming, justice-seeking faith we call Unitarian Universalism; this y’all-come religion that says, whoever you are, you have a place here; there’s room at the table. Our world needs our open-hearted faith not to be whispered or hidden, but sung out, loud and proud!
Ninety years ago, our country was in the throes of the Great Depression, and still recovering from the First World War. It was not an easy or a hopeful time. But it was the time that the now-famous Riverside Church in New York City was built and dedicated. Their minister, Harry Emerson Fosdick, preached the social gospel, which said religion should address the needs of the poor and marginalized. That church became interdenominational and interracial, focused on a vibrant mission of urban social ministry.
Rev. Fosdick wrote a hymn for the dedication of Riverside Church that’s one of my favorites. Its words still call to us today, in this moment of danger and possibility. This moment that calls each of us to use our power for good. May this be our prayer, for the living of these days:
God of grace and God of glory,
on thy people pour thy power;
crown thine ancient church’s story;
bring its bud to glorious flower.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the facing of this hour, for the facing of this hour.
Amen.