Life on the Banks

Rev. Mark Stringer

Readings

Excerpt from A Tree Full of Angels by Macrina Wiederkehr:

"One special moment of beauty that stands out in my mind I experienced in a

bus station....I witnessed a little girl helping her brother get a drink at

the water fountain. Attempting to lift him to the proper height turned out

to be impossible. I was just at the point of giving them some assistance

when quick as lightening she darted over to a shoeshine man, pointed to a

footstool he wasn't using, dragged it to the water fountain, and very gently

lifted up her thirsty brother. It all happened so fast and it was so

simple, yet it turned out to be a moment of beauty that became a prayer for

me. So much to be learned from such a little moment. Perhaps what touched

me most was her readiness to seek out a way to take care of the need without

waiting to be rescued. It was a moment of beauty: a small child with a

single heart."

An excerpt from Will Durant's The Story of Civilization:

"Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with

blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing things historians

usually record-while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love,

raise children, sing songs, write poetry, whittle statues. The story of

civilization is the story of what happens on the banks."

Sermon

Almost thirty years ago, the young minister of this church, Rev. Kenn Hurto,

called together a handful of First Unitarian members to brainstorm how to

include more members in the caring ministry of the church...the ministry of

caring for each other in times of need, whether great or small. At the

time, no doubt, Kenn could see the potential for growth in the church and

was doing his part to move the church away from the long held notion that

the minister should be the primary caregiver and toward a shared ministry of

caring...a responsibility to be borne by the entire church community.

While Kenn's initial attempts to get something started were not successful,

the idea was a good one. About a year later, member Jodie McKay stepped

forward to chair the effort and the Care Crew was officially born. Over its

nearly thirty years of existence, the Care Crew, with its ever-changing

roster of participants, has quietly and effectively succeeded in its

attempts to be a caring presence in our church community. Its members have

paid hospital visits and made regular trips to see shut-ins. They have

written cards of support and condolence, held educational workshops, and put

together informational articles for church publications. Looking back at

the first few years of the Care Crew's existence, Jodie says it took some

time to get the word out, for the church to understand the function and

purpose of the new caring ministry plan. However, as more and more people

were touched by its work, the Care Crew eventually became a permanent

fixture in the life of the First Unitarian community.

When I was called to be minister here in 2001, I was delighted to be coming

to a church with such a long history of shared caring ministry. And without

much direct input from me, the Care Crew has continued with its noble goal

of caring for us all. I know I am not alone when I express my sincere

gratitude to this group of devoted church members. While many of the people

who have participated in this caring ministry...even before it had an

official title...are no longer with us, we know that their memories and

spirits remain in the hearts of those who they touched and in the very walls

of this place. Their contributions to the caring that is at the foundation

of who we are and should be as a church community will not be forgotten.

And today, of course, many continue this work that began so long ago. If

you have been a member of the Care Crew at any time over its almost thirty

year history, I invite you, if you are willing and able, to stand...if you

would prefer not to stand, please raise your hand. Thank you, each of you,

for sharing your gifts of caring and compassion with the church.

When I called Jodie the other night to be reminded of the story of how the

Care Crew came about, she said something that I have to share with you

all...it just seems so appropriate for today's service. She told me the

story and then said, "You know Mark, there is nothing spectacular about the

history of the Care Crew."

Nothing spectacular.

I said, "Jodie, you are preaching my sermon!"

Most of life, after all, is filled with moments that are nothing

spectacular. Even though our information age can bring us a steady stream

of pictures and stories about all kinds of spectacular events...from

horrifying and mind-numbing violence to extraordinary sacrifices of the

heart...from desperate attempts at peace to spirit-crushing grabs for wealth

and power...the bulk of living for most of us is comprised of the simple

stories of our efforts to maintain livable lives. We try to provide for

ourselves and our families with as much dignity as we can muster. We create

homes for ourselves, raise children, try to develop some life skills and a

little wisdom if we may. We struggle with the challenges of what it means to

be human...we do our best to keep our hearts open to whatever love and grace

and faith we can find along the way... and we keep searching for those

blessed reminders that life is an adventure worth living...that even in the

face of grand disappointment, sorrow and loss, life is to be trusted and

nurtured and preserved for those who will follow us.

There is nothing spectacular in all this. And yet, the simple attempts of

our ancestors to do all they could to not only survive this life but to

embrace it are what have sustained humanity long enough for us to take their

places. To be sure, our very presence on this earth is testimony to the fact

that, as one of our readings reminds us, civilization is not merely the

stream of the spectacular always rushing past us...civilization is the life

we choose to live on the banks of that stream.

The stream rushing past the banks these days seems particularly troubling.

War, violence, economic injustice, poverty...we all know how bad it is...we

are faced with it nearly every day. Turn on the round-the-clock news

channels, see the factoid crawl at the bottom on the screen outlining all

the up-to-the minute tragedies...all the places and ways we humans are

screwing up the world. It's overwhelming... paralyzing even. This constant

barrage of bad news is enough to make us believe that our lives, as the song

says, "don't count for nothing...we look at this world and feel so

small...[our lives] are only a season, a passing September that no one will

recall." And yet, in the midst of all this bad news...all the overwhelming

facts of how far humanity has fallen...we still have within us the ability

to participate in the everyday heroism that sustains everything: the

heroism of living our lives trusting that our individual acts matter...that

the things we do to make life better for ourselves and for our fellow

travelers really do make a difference...that the ways we nurture our

relationships and strive to treat others the way we would want to be treated

add up to something worth achieving.

So many in this community, whether you are on the Care Crew or not, already

carry out these acts of caring and compassion...and mostly without fanfare.

I know this because I have been on the receiving end of your kindness many

times in my few years in Des Moines. And I have heard many of your

stories...how someone was at your side when you most needed help...how an

unexpected meal or word of encouragement made a difference far greater than

what might have been assumed. A phone call, a ride, a message of support, a

simple card...these are all ways we add something of value to this world...

we ignite another warming fire on the shared banks of our lives...and by so

doing we remind ourselves that what we do in this life--even our most basic

acts of kindness--can mean a great deal.

When our view of this life we share gets the most troubling, when we see

only the raging stream of violence, injustice, and suffering and we feel

most caught in its flow, these are the times when we are most called, I

think, to reinforce the banks of the stream...the banks upon which we live

the bulk of our lives...the banks that are fortified by our simple acts of

presence and caring. When we reach out to those around us in this way, we

are reminded that life is more than a march of suffering or survival, but a

precious opportunity to create meaning...to invest whatever energy we have

in sustaining all that is truly good and lasting in life, which I believe in

the final analysis always turns out to be the love that we have shared with

others.

I like how David Wilcox puts it in his song "Deeper Still":

(sung)

In this life, the love you give

Becomes your only lasting treasure

And what you lose will be what you win

A well that echoes down too deep to measure

A silver coin rings down that well

You could never spend too much

A diamond echoes deeper still

And you will always have what you gave to love

You will always have what you gave to love.1

I used these lyrics in my newsletter column this month because they speak to

what I think are the foundations of our new caring ministry plan at the

church.

The beginning steps of th isplantookplaceinJanuary,whenmuchlikeRev.

Hurto did nearly thirty years ago, I gathered with about two dozen church

members to brainstorm ways to harness all of the care already being provided

by this community and to expand the reach of this care to include more

members and friends of our church. We compiled a list of all the needs we

imagined we could realistically meet and began thinking together about how

to structure a plan that would enable us to more effectively meet those

needs, especially focusing on ways that more people could participate but

without requiring too much individual responsibility or commitment of time

for those who, due to demands of work and/or family, do not have the time to

give. Throughout the spring, a dozen members continued to meet with me to

consider the alternatives. Finally a team of six, our caring ministry

planning team, worked with me to put the final touches on the plan we are

rolling out to you throughout the month of October. [This team included

Marsha Carty, Maria Downs, Jo Fitz, Holly Huddleston, Jodie McKay, and Mary

Shotwell.]

By now most of you have received a letter from the church inviting you to

become a caring ministry volunteer. If you did not get this letter, there

are additional copies at the caring ministry table that has been set up in

Channing Hall. There are many ways for you to participate and we hope that

you will choose the area or areas that best fit your interests. The caring

ministry is being coordinated by team members Jo Fitz and Jodie McKay, who

have graciously accepted the responsibility of helping us get this thing off

the ground. Working with Jo and Jodie will be seven other members who we

are calling point persons. The point persons will oversee different areas

of service within the plan, maintaining lists of volunteers and calling them

when a request needs to be filled. To create these lists, all of us are

asked to fill out a caring ministry registration form, on which we will

designate the areas in which we are willing to participate from time to

time. These areas are:

Transportation: you would sign up for this area if you would be willing to

provide limited rides to church or to an occasional doctor's appointment.

Point person is Judy Haver.

Meals: you would sign up for this area if you would be willing to cook a

dinner for members who are convalescing, in bereavement, or new parents.

Point person is Phyllis Briley.

You would sign up for the Limited Household Tasks area if you would be

willing to help someone out with chores such as mowing, raking or light

housekeeping on a short term basis. Point person is Deanna Lehl.

You can sign up for the Memorial Committee, the group of members who provide

receptions following memorial services at church. Point person is the

current chair Cathy Hladky.

Correspondence is the area for you if you enjoy writing and sending cards to

those with concerns and joys. Point person is Carolyn Spencer.

Sign up to serve on the Visits and Check-In list if you are willing to make

phone calls and person-to person visits on a short-term or ongoing basis.

Two point people: Pat Winters and Susan Seitz.

And of interest to the writers among us is the Communicators area, in which

you would interview members and put together articles to provide publicity

and keep the membership abreast of all that is happening with the caring

ministry program. Jodie and Jo will serve as the point persons for this

area.

There is room for everyone to play a role in this ministry with various

levels of participation...from one-time contributions to ongoing

involvement...and we hope that you will register to do your part. On the

form there is a place for comments and descriptions of availability. We will

be collecting registration forms after services in Channing Hall throughout

October, with the hopes of being ready to field requests by Thanksgiving.

This plan is, of course, a work in progress and we will appreciate your

patience as well as your participation. But I think I speak on behalf of

all those who had a hand in creating this new caring ministry approach, when

I say that all of the bumps in the road will be worth it if more of the

needs of this community are met and if more of us get to share in the

satisfaction of improving this little corner of our life on the banks...and

in at least a small way, the world.

Along these lines, I conclude with a story:

Once, a father was looking after his children and trying to keep them

entertained, but he wasn't having too much success. It was a wet Saturday,

and the children were getting bored. They were starting to get on his

nerves, with their restlessness and their constant chattering.

But the man was inventive, and suddenly he had an idea. He took down a

magazine from the shelf and opened it up, looking through it until he found

a map of the world printed on one page. He tore this page out of the

magazine, and cut it up with scissors into small pieces. Then he jumbled up

all the pieces and placed them in a pile on the floor, like the pieces of a

jigsaw.

Then he gave his two young sons the task of putting the map together again,

thinking that this would keep them quiet for a good long time. He left them

with it and went off to make himself a cup of coffee.

You can imagine his amazement when, five minutes later, he came back to find

the map neatly and accurately put back together again.

'How did you manage to put it back together so quickly?' he asked them,

surprised by their skill.

'Oh, it was easy,' the younger boy replied. 'You told us it was a map of

the world, and when we looked at the pieces, at first we didn't know where

to begin to sort it al lout.Itseemedimpossible.Butthenwerealized

that there was a picture of a man on the other side, so we just put the man

back together again. When we turned it over, the world had come back

together again as well!'

'Yes, Dad,' chimed in the other brother: 'It's very easy. If you put the

man right, the world is OK.'2

So here's to our life on the banks...and all the little things we do each

day that help make the world OK after all.