The Rev. Josh Pawelek and the members and friends of the UU Society: East
Knowing the centrality of the free pulpit tradition to our religious history and identity, we now dedicate our new pulpit.
For the proclaiming of truth; for the seeking, the exploring, the discerning, the revealing, the expressing, the speaking, the signing, the singing of truth; for the proclaiming of our truths; for the exercise of reason and the weighing of evidence that leads us to truth; for honest, caring and principled debate that leads us to truth; for deep self reflection that leads us to truth; for expansive social analysis that leads us to truth; for courageous conversations that lead us to truth; for democratic processes that lead us to truth; for the proclaiming of the one truth and the many truths; for the proclaiming of the grand, cosmic momentous truths and the mundane, earthly moment-to-moment truths; for the proclaiming of the truths that abide and endure; for the proclaiming of the truths that evolve and change; so that here, in this sacred space, all truth may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For the words that share the details of our lives, for the stories our lives tell, the stories worth hearing; for the words with which we share our pain, our sorrow, our grief; for the words with which we share the challenges that confront us; for the words with which we share our joy, our excitement, our success; for the words with which we share the opportunities that present themselves to us; for the words with which we reach out to one another; for the words that express our love of the light in each other; for the words that offer comfort and solace; for the words that offer affirmation and respect; for the words that name our experiences and the meanings we derive from them— so that here, in this sacred space, such words may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For welcoming those newly born, for speaking our hopes and wishes for their lives, for words of dedication that bind them to all that is sacred, that bind them to this spiritual community, that bind this spiritual community to them; for affirming our youth as they come of age, for the speaking of their credos, for welcoming them in their new identities as emergent adults into the life of our congregation; for the words that unite lovers in marriage, for their vows which speak of deep and passionate love, for their promises that speak of intimacy, families and commitment, for the words that commit us to them; and for the words that celebrate the dead, that mourn our deceased loved-ones, that name unspeakable grief, that say goodbye, that remind us, in the words of the poet, that we must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal, to hold it against our bones, knowing our own lives depend on it, and when the time comes, to let it go, to let it go;[1] for all these words that carry us through each of life’s great transitions, that they may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For the words and deeds of prophetic women and men who bear witness to evil, who bear witness to injustice, who bear witness to oppression; who identify and analyze the powers and interests and privileges that divide people one from another, that welcome some and reject others, that lift up some and keep others down, that make some normal and hold others beyond the pale; for the words and deeds of prophetic women and men who challenge and interrupt the forces that conquer, colonize, penalize and murder; who challenge and interrupt the stealing of land; who challenge and interrupt the exploitation of bodies and labor; who challenge and interrupt the distortion of culture and history; who challenge and interrupt the perpetuation of violence; for the words and deeds of prophetic women and men who announce a different vision, a new vision, a new future, a better future, an antiracist future, an anti-sexist future, an anti-heterosexist future, a multicultural future, a multiracial future, a peaceful future, a just future; for the words and deeds of prophetic women and men who imagine, envision, proclaim and establish the beloved community; who say it is possible to love neighbor and enemy as self; who say yes: we can all get along; who say all things are possible for those who take heart, for those with courage, for those who love; so that the words that speak this witness, announce this vision, proclaim this love may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For the words that spring from the wisdom of the world’s great religions; for the words that tell us of the path, of the way, of the journey; for the words that tell us of the ancient Goddesses, the earth mothers whose power yet lives; for the words that tell us of the oneness of Brahman and Atman, of Arjuna’s struggles with duty and destiny; of the Buddha’s middle way; of the li of Confucius; of the Taoist Wu Wei; of the Dao that cannot be named which is the origin of Heaven and Earth; of being and non-being; of yin and yang; of the Great Pyramids, of the myths of Greece and Rome; of Abraham who left his home; of the Exodus; of years wandering in the dessert; of God’s great covenant with Israel; of the Great Commandment to love God with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul and to love your neighbor as yourself; of the toppling of the tables in the temple; of the crucifixions; of the Muslim’s striving and submission; of the Sufi Masters’ intimacy with the Holy One; of the African Orishas infused with ashe; of Grandmother Spider, of Coyote, of Wolf, of Crow, of Eagle; of Emerson’s “transparent eyeball,” Thoreau’s Walden and Whitman’s “Song of Myself”; of the Ghost Dance; of the visions of Black Elk; of Gandhi’s Satyagraha; of Martin Luther King’s dream; so that all these words that convey the great expanse of the world’s religious wisdom may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For words that ground us; that connect us back to the land, that remind us, “the earth does not belong to us; we belong to the earth;”[2] for words that call us to recognize, finally, our interdependence with the whole of life; words that entreat us to change our ways—to conserve and reduce, to re-use and recycle; words that invite us to live more simply, to walk more lightly upon the earth; words that encourage us to seek balance and harmony with our surroundings; words that call us to respect the non-humans—the runners, the gallopers, the hoppers, the crawlers, the swimmers, the fliers, the buzzers, the slitherers, the diggers and tunnelers; words that call us to be grateful for the food we eat; words that call us to praise the earth and to celebrate the gift of life; words that speak to that profound hallelujah within each of us; so that such words may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
For the speaking of prayers—of the heart, of the body, of the mind, of the spirit, of the soul; for the naming of longings, for the naming of yearnings, for the naming of desires, for the naming of passions; for cries of the spirit; for utterances of the irrational and the impossible; for words of hope in the face of despair; for words that can only approximate what resides deep within; for the words that come before words[3]—before time, before space, before creation; for words that come in shudders and tears; for words that stick in throats; for words of sheer joy, and sheer sorrow, for all the words that, in the end, cannot be said yet we strive to say them still—that they may nevertheless be encountered and understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit
For words that name the things that matter most in our lives; for words that name all we hold dear; for words that name the holy; for words that name the eternal; for words that name the ultimate; for words that speak of faith; for words that speak of hopes and dreams; for words that let us know our lives are sacred and all life is sacred; for words that place love at the center of our lives and our community, and call us finally to bear that love out into the wider world; so that such words may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
Friends, we dedicate this pulpit, deeply mindful of the free pulpit tradition we inherit from our spiritual forbears and which we uphold in our own time with humility, joy and love, knowing that we must preserve it intact for those generations of liberal religious people and Unitarian Universalists who will in time receive it from us. So that this great tradition may be encountered, understood and honored,
Congregation: We dedicate this pulpit.
Amen and Blessed Be.
[1] Oliver Mary, “In Blackwater Woods,” excerpted in Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: Beacon Press and the UUA, 1993) # 696.
[2] Sealth, Chief Noah, “We Belong to the Earth,” in Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: Beacon Press and the UUA, 1993) # 550.
[3] This is a reference to Shaffer, Nancy, “In Stillness,” Instructions in Joy (Boston: Skinner House, 2002) p. 5.
