Our musician this morning, Roland Chirico, is a founding member. We didn’t plan it this way, but there’s an appropriate magic to the music this morning. For me, Mouret’s “Rondeau” and Burke’s “Magic Trumpet”express the vitality that has characterized UUS:E from its very beginning: a constant movement of energy, a catchy and enduring melody, dynamic range, louds and softs, sometimes sharp and pointed, sometimes soft and flowing, a hint of majesty tempered with humility, always coherent internally, always desirous of bursting forth into the world.

I also want to thank the generation who joined our founders in the 1970s We may not know all your names and faces and life stories. But we do know you. We know you because these walls resulted from your hands pounding nails, sawing wood, screwing screws. We know you because these halls echo with the sound of your voices lifted in song; the sound of your children coming of age. We know you because your laughter and tears, joys and sorrows mingle together in the corners of these rooms—traces of your lives lived in earnest, in search of purpose and meaning, in search of truth; in search of healing and justice. Thank you for creating this sacred space.

To the founders and to the first generation, all of us who’ve come in your wake say thank you. You’ve bequeathed to us a church for what matters. For all those who are here now, no matter which generation you are from, a new time of change and growth is upon us. A new time of bursting forth is upon this congregation. A new melody and harmony are about to be fashioned atop the familiar, solid foundation sung into these halls by the first generations.

We’ve gotten in the habit of referring to this time of change and growth as the building expansion. This is understandable. There is much to say about the physical expansion of this building. As we have limited space, expansion is necessary, not for those who will come, but for those of us who are here now. Expansion will be complicated. It will be expensive. It will be beautiful. It will be accessible. It will be energy efficient. And, once we break ground, it will be very, very dusty for a while.

Most of you know this, but it bears repeating for those who are not aware: our chosen architect, Eloise Marinos, was supposed to present her conceptual plans for expansion on November 5th. We postponed that meeting due to her husband’s hospitalization. Even if she cannot be present, we are presentating her basic plans on Sunday, December 4th. Those of us in leadership in this effort did not want to keep talking about Eloise’s plans without giving everyone else some sense of what they look like. Yet, because of the importance of having the congregation see the architect present her plans before attempting to raise the necessary funds, we are not going to attempt a capital campaign this spring. We can wait until Eloise’s family situation is such that she can make a more comprehensive presentation. We may conduct the capital campaign next fall, or perhaps in the spring of 2007. I know it seems like a longer wait, but slowing down the pace is good. It gives us room to make mistakes and correct them. It gives us room to educate ourselves about the financial implications. It gives us room to breathe. We didn’t quite have that room when we were racing to make this capital campaign happen in April. As many have said, ‘perhaps the universe is speaking to us, saying slow down, be patient, do it right.’ And we are listening

This is the habit I mentioned earlier. I’m talking about this time of growth and change as if it were synonymous with our building expansion. As much as we have to take the building seriously, this time of change and growth is about much more than the building. In the end, I’m not talking about the building. The building is material. It is bricks and mortar (or in our case, perhaps, a high-tech geo-thermal heating system, some solar panels, an elevator, and some locally produced, recycled construction resources). Let us not confuse the building with the congregation. The congregation imagines the building, owns the building, invests in the building, maintains the building, uses the building. But the congregation is not the building. Many congregations lost their buildings in Hurricane Katrina. You can see images in the UU World of the damage at the First UU Church in New Orleans, one of many congregations in many denominations who lost the use of their building. Yet, they are still a congregation.

We feel the intense need to expand not because a time of change and growth is upon our building; rather, it is upon our congregation—upon the people, upon you and me, upon our covenant with each other, upon our collective spirit. If we find we can’t expand our building, for whatever reason, that time of change and growth is still upon us. I remind us of our proposed strategic plan, which we will present on December 4th. This plan helps us grow in many ways, not just physically. It reminds me that even if we aren’t able to expand our building, we still must grow, we still must respond.

Respond to what? What is this time of growth and change that is upon us? Let me draw your attention to Dover, PA, where citizens recently voted out all eight members of the local school board who were trying to introduce religion into the biology curriculum. At the same time the state Board of Education in Kansas voted 6-4 to open the way for teaching the supernatural in public schools by deleting from the definition of science the words: “a search for natural explanations of observable phenomena.” We are very familiar with this clash of civilizations, cultures and spiritual values. We enter into this discussion from many different starting points. Intelligent design was in the news last week, but I could’ve started with reproductive rights, marriage equality for same gender couples, affirmative action, the death penalty, torture, the war in Iraq, the war on terror, separation of church and state, the gutting of federal social programs, Israel and Palestine, global warming. More and more there is a predictable lining up, a marshalling of forces, a polarizing of the electorate, a polarizing of races, classes, nations, religions.

A few weeks ago Bill Baird said from this pulpit we are in the midst of a holy war. Part of me shies away from such language. Holy war? Isn’t that somewhat overstated? Another part of me says absolutely not. It was happening long before the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, but somehow that event broke this holy war wide open on many fronts. And if it isn’t a holy war, then in the very least we must recognize that powerful people, not only in the United States, but throughout the world, are manipulating religious traditions, language, and culture to fan flames of fear, hatred, and violence—to make people believe there is a holy war where one hadn’t existed before—to construct a holy war for personal gain at the expense of everyone else. So call it a holy war, or call it an international class war. Call it a war of the imagined values of tradition against the imagined vices of modernity. Call it a war of fundamentalists against pluralists. Call it a war against the earth. All these clashes interrelate with one another. More and more, we feel drawn into a massive conflict. We feel polarized. We feel confused, anxious, sad, angry, and fearful.

If I said to you the time of change and growth that is upon us requires us to identify staunchly on one side of this conflict, in opposition to religious fundamentalism; in opposition to so-called traditional values which are code for racial apartheid, sexism, and homophobia; in opposition to the war against the earth, it would be sufficient, if not compelling. Unitarian Universalist ministers often make this argument, and because UUs embrace religious pluralism, because our politics generally lean far to the left, we tend to receive this message well and even feel emboldened by it. I could argue that for every Kansas Board of Education that compromises the integrity of science and religion, there are enough citizens in Dover, PA to maintain the integrity of science and religion. For every person who runs into the seductive embrace of fundamentalist religion, there is another who wants to be as far away from it as possible. I could make the argument—and it is a legitimate argument—that the existence of people saying no to religious fundamentalism in the United States calls us to enter into this time of change and growth. They need us. This argument would be sufficient, even compelling, and we would very likely grow. But we wouldn’t change, and the great conflict of our time wouldn’t be any closer to ending.

Dear ones, we need to do better than take sides in this conflict. Imagine a liberal religious response that actually rises above holy war. Imagine a Unitarian Universalist response that understands the nature of holy war, knows where we traditionally stand in the midst of holy war, but somehow eclipses holy war, transforms holy war, refuses to equate holy war with destiny. Imagine a liberal religious response that refuses to demonize, refuses to instill fear and hatred, condemns violence. We can’t quite yet say no to holy war because it has been thrust upon us, but our response can transcend that temptation to slide easily into conflict.

I think the slide into conflict is easy—even seductive—for liberals because we have developed habits that leave us weak and unable to claim our true power. Fundamentalists slide easily into conflict as well, but their weaknesses are different than ours. Liberal religion is weak because it too readily accepts and promotes the privatization of spirituality, as if we somehow have the capacity to keep spirit private. Liberal religion is weak because it too readily allows cynicism towards its own governing bodies, both national and local. Liberal religion is weak because it enables a surface spirituality, a free and easy picking and choosing with very little long-term commitment. Liberal religion is weak because it fears internal conflict and tells its practitioners we can all believe as we like and never have to share with each other what it is we actually believe. Hence we don’t really have to be in deep reliationship. Liberal religion is weak because it too often forgets what truly matters in this world.

When I say a time of growth and change is upon this congregation, it also upon liberal religion generally. It is time to confront and transform these weaknesses in liberal religion, for without such confrontation and transformation we will never be able to define our reality beyond holy war, which is a reality others have defined for us. My deepest instincts about confronting and transforming these weaknesses lead me to reclaim and proclaim what I believe is the true purpose of liberal religion, that is liberation. Liberal religion, at its best, liberates people from personal spiritual brokenness and collective, social injustice. I don’t care to engage in holy war with religious fundamentalists. I care to engage in acts of liberation—personal spiritual liberation for myself and my congregation always intimately connected to social, economic, and political liberation for those who suffer injustice. When we say in our mission statement, “we care for and nurture one another in the search for truth and meaning as part of life-long spiritual growth,” we are talking about a congregation who’s members seek for themselves and each other liberation from spiritual drift, from brokenness, from pain and suffering, from fear, from materialism, from addiction, from ignorance, from busyness, from apathy, from boredom. When we say in our mission statement “We are committed to living our Unitarian Universalist principles in our daily lives, including working for justice and peace, and living in harmony in the earth,” we are talking about participating in acts of liberation in the wider world: liberation from racism, sexism, and homophobia; liberation from poverty, homelessness, hunger,and violence; liberation from abuses of power designed to privilege the few at the expense of the many; liberation of the earth from all human practices that slowly destroy it. In this light, holy war is a distraction from our true calling. Being at war with our fellow human beings does not matter. Liberation matters. A holy war church does not matter. A liberation church matters.

I wish to name one more weakness in liberal religion that prevents us from embracing this time of change and growth. Religious liberals have always been fond of referring to themselves as heretics, people who buck the trends, who don’t agree with the established doctrines; lone rangers, mavericks, individualists, free thinkers, people who choose—which is the root meaning of heretic. Claiming the heretic badge of honor is a profound weakness in our movement. It isolates us, marginalizes us, and keeps us small. There is nothing heretical about trusting in democracy and wanting it to be more reliable for more people. There is nothing heretical about embracing religious pluralism and theological diversity. There is nothing heretical about supporting the separation of church and state or about opposing the theocratizing of any nation. There is nothing heretical about spiritual questioning and searching. There is nothing heretical about the quest for peace. There is nothing heretical about struggling for justice. There is nothing heretical about following and trusting one’s heart. There is nothing heretical about believing in the inherent worth and dignity of people or the interdependent web of all existence. There is nothing heretical in the effort to truly welcome all people as they are. There is nothing heretical about the impulse to transcend this holy war. There is nothing heretical about a church that stands for liberation. Nothing.

When we talk about building expansion and the strategic plan, always bear in mind, there is far more at stake than the cost of bricks and mortar and the number of people who come to church on Sunday morning. These are ultimately not conversations about building material and membership. These are conversations about liberation! These are conversations about the things that matter. May ours always be a church for what matters. Amen and Blessed Be.