"Egg Foo Yong"
A Sermon for New Member Sunday by Rev. Charles Blustein Ortman
June 13, 2010
READINGS: ANCIENT AND MODERN
Our ancient reading is from the Tao te Ching (Dow de Ching)
by Lao Tzu and translated by Stanly Rosenthal:
THE NOURISHMENT OF THE TAO
All physical things arise
from the principle which is absolute;
the principle which is the natural way.
All living things are formed by being,
and shaped by their environment,
growing if nourished well by virtue;
the being from non-being.
All natural things respect the Tao,
giving honour to its virtue,
although the Tao does not expect,
nor look for honour or respect.
The virtue of the natural way
is that all things are born of it;
it nourishes and comforts them;
develops, shelters and cares for them,
protecting them from harm.
The Tao creates, not claiming credit,
and guides without interfering.
Our second reading is a simple recipe for Egg Fu Young:
6 eggs, slightly beaten
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. soy sauce
Dash or 2 of pepper
1 red pepper, diced
1 stalk green onions, sliced fine
1 cup mushrooms, diced
1 cup firm tofu, diced
1 cup bean sprouts
Fry vegetables in a small amount of oil until almost done. Cool
then mix in eggs. Heat pan with oil and fry half the mixture at
a time. Cook as you would for pancakes on high and then medium heat.
If you wish to have gravy make it with soup stock. Put eggs on platter
and pour gravy over just before serving.
SERMON:
My wife Judy and I were married in our first home, a charming,
old, Midwestern farm house. It was just outside of Bement, Illinois,
a very small town about halfway between Decatur, where Judy worked,
and Champaign where my farm tire work was centered. The house had
a grand, enormous front porch, where our wedding took place. The
porch looked out across the road, over fields of countless acres
of corn, as far as the eye could see. The backyard had an elevated
sidewalk that created a footbridge, which lead over sunken and lavish
flower gardens. It was quite lovely.
The inside of the house was no less wonderful. There were beautiful
hardwood floors and trim throughout. The first floor had an enormous
kitchen. The adjacent dining room was large and bright. There were
not one, but two spacious living rooms. Recessed French doors that
slid in and out of the walls flanked wide doorways connecting the
dining and living rooms.
Upstairs, there were four bedrooms and a bath. The bedrooms worked
out beautifully. There was our room. There was a guest room. Judy
had her own room, which she used as a sewing room and a study. I'm
not sure she did a lot of sewing in there - even though her sewing
machine always looked ready to go to work at a moments notice. And
I had my room, which was set up as a music studio where I could
practice and record. Talk about living in a fairy tale setting!
It was really quite something.
The only drawback to the house was that there was no shower. The
bathroom was just that; it was a room for taking baths. Of course
it had a large, old, claw-foot tub, which was quite nice. But still,
it was a tub - not a shower.
I would come home from work in those days, pretty dirty. Fixing
farm tires out in the fields was not so clean, as… say... sitting
at a desk and writing a sermon. A shower would've been a great thing
to come home to, but we didn't have one. Somehow though, I did still
manage to get fairly clean.
One day, when I got home from work, I announced to Judy and I was
going to make Egg Fu Yong for our supper. The evening meal in that
part of the world is supper; dinner was something one enjoyed at
noon. " Egg Fu Yong, great!" She said. So I went up and
started drawing my bath.
A minute later Judy called up from the bottom of the stairs, "You
know, I wouldn't mind making the Egg Fu Yong while you're taking
your bath. The only thing is that I don't know how."
"Really?" I asked. "You wouldn't mind? I was going
to make it."
"I'll do it. What do I need to do?"
So, from the bathtub I called out directions for making Egg Fu
Yong, as Judy stood at the bottom of the stairs listening carefully.
"Just get the tofu, bean sprouts, the mushrooms, the red and
green peppers, out from the fridge and grab an onion. Dice up all
the veggies and tofu kind of small, mix in the sprouts, and then
sort of stir-fry them all off in some hot oil. Whisk up about a
half a dozen eggs and then spoon mix the stir-fry into the egg batter.
Add some salt, pepper, a little garlic and a squirt or two of soy
sauce. Then take a ladle and poor the batter in big dollops back
into the hot oil. We can have some rice on the side and use soy
sauce instead of gravy on top of it all."
"How long should I cook them?" She called back.
"Oh," I said. "Until they're nice and golden brown."
"I'll give it a try," she hollered back up the stairs.
"Great," I called down to her, leaning back in the tub.
Ah... now just to relax. Time flies. A short while later, she was
back at the bottom of the stairs letting me know that things were
just about ready. (Judy continues to be the fastest cook I've ever
known.) I got out of the tub, dried off, put on some comfortable
clothes and walked down in into the kitchen, just as she was serving
it all up.
"Smells good," I said. We dug in. "Mmmm," we
both agreed. "This is really good."
"So when and where did you learn how to make Egg Fu Yong?
she asked.
"I didn't say that I knew how to make it," I confessed.
"I've never actually made it before."
"This is your recipe," she said. "This is really
good Egg Fu Yong, and you just told me how to make it."
"Well," I said. "It seemed like it should work."
"Yeah," she said. "I guess so. Why not?"
This experience took place a little over 33 years ago, but it continues
to hold a place in our family lexicon. Over the years, when either
of us is explaining how to do something or how something works to
the other, and the question of origin of information comes to mind,
the person receiving the information will sometimes ask the other,
"Egg Fu Yong?" Occasionally the answer is, no. But sometimes
it's, yes, Egg Fu Yong. Which is to say that whatever it is, we're
making it up. Of course our invention is guided by intuition and
what makes sense, as well as by our best guess for the way things
are and ought to be. If either of us pleads guilty to Egg Fu Yong,
it's usually received respectfully by the other with, "Yeah,
I guess so. Why not?"
I want to share with you all an email I received this week. A member
of another UU congregation in New Jersey sent it to me after she
received it on her congregation's list serve. The email was posted
after a couple, who were from that congregation, but who recently
moved from that part of the state to ours, visited here a few weeks
ago. The person who forwarded it to me said that she did so, because
she thought I would want to know, and she hoped I'd want to respond
to the couple on behalf of our congregation. So while this sermon
is for us, here this morning, it is also the response that I will
want to share with those folks who recently visited. I have removed
their names from the text in an effort to spare their identity.
The subject line of the e-mail read: Recent visit to Montclair
UU - NOT a good experience [We] visited last Sunday to Montclair's
congregation.
Although we were a little late because of traffic, not one
person welcomed us or even went out of their way to talk. I was
dressed in a new sleeveless Harley Davidson shirt (no scissor
cut off sleeves either). [Neither of us looked] unkempt or unshaven.
Maybe they did not like the way we dressed. I guess it was a test
(although not directly intended) for us to see if they would still
come up to us dressed like that.
They sure did not refuse our donation when the plate was passed
around.
What was troubling was that the members were in their own
world and the only time people were nice to us was when we had
to come up and speak to them, even at coffee hour. It pains us
both that this group of people is NOT like [our UU] members. I
don't think we'll be back to Montclair. They have a nice building
and I'm sure nice but not very friendly people to strangers.
We'll keep looking for a congregation to join, just not that
one.
(They signed off.)
So my response to them will certainly begin with letting them know
how sorry I am that they did not have a good experience here with
us. Like most of you, I suspect, I always hope that folks visiting
here have the kind of experience we all want to have in coming,
the kind of experience that encouraged the joining of our new members
this morning. I would want them to know that we've worked really
hard at being a warm and welcoming congregation.
I will tell them that I'm sorry they missed those first few minutes
of our service, a time when we are very intentional in our welcoming
of everyone here. I'll let them know that I'm sorry they missed
hearing the words that, "... we are congregation welcoming
of all seekers after truth beauty justice and compassion, cherishing
our diversity of race, each, gender, sexual identity and orientation,
religious background and perspective on life." I will tell
them that those words are shared each week, and that I know they
have provided the feeling not only of welcome, but of safe haven
for many, many visitors over the years.
I'll tell them I'm sorry they didn't hear the words of our New
Member Welcoming today, about how we are a congregation of aspiration
and not a congregation that has it all figured out. I'll tell them
how sorry I am that they missed the joyful energy in this room when,
at the beginning of the service, we turn to one another each week,
welcoming each other to worship service.
I'll tell them how sorry I am that they were left to judge an experience
with this congregation based only on a partial experience of it.
And then I think I might share an old Buddhist story with them,
one of my favorites. Some of you have heard me tell it more than
once…
In a distant province a person approaches the local Bodhisattva
(who is a very wise person on the verge of crossing over into becoming
a Buddha) and the newcomer asks, "I just moved to this town,
and I don't know what to expect of the people here. Can you tell
me, are these people friendly and kind?"
And the Bodhisattva responds, "Oh, I see. Tell me, what were
the people like in the village where you came from? Where those
people friendly and kind?"
"Oh no," says the person. "They were very cold,
and quite mean."
"I have bad news then," replied the Bodhisattva. "I'm
afraid you may find people here to be just that way as well."
Some months later another new person approaches the Bodhisattva.
"I just moved to this town and I don't know what to expect
of the people here." The familiar question is asked, "Can
you tell me, are these people friendly and kind?"
The Bodhisattva smiles. "Tell me, how were the people in the
village where you came from? Were those people friendly and kind?"
"Oh yes," answers the seeker. "The people in my
old village were very warm and caring."
"Well then, I think I have some good news for you," said
the Bodhisattva. "You may find the people here to be just that
way as well."
I'm gratified that our visitors have had the experience of warmth
and caring in the congregation that they had to leave. It gives
me hope that they will indeed find a congregation that suits their
sensibilities and meets their religious needs. I'm not altogether
sure it isn't this congregation. But I think the point of the old
Buddhist story still stands. To a very large extent, we create the
experiences and the realities of our lives.
And what I would want to tell you, my dear friends, is that we
have indeed improved greatly these past few years in our attempts
to provide a warmer welcome to one another and to strangers. In
a New UU Class just last year, when I asked the question, what surprised
you the most here, the answer that was echoed by many of those in
the circle was how friendly and warm people are here.
Well friends, these recent visitors did not have that friendly
and warm experience. And even though they missed the part of the
Sunday service in which we are intentionally welcoming, shouldn't
our intentions be evident beyond those few defined moments. We are
not a congregation that has it all figured out, we do still have
a long ways to go. Personally though, I can't think of any other
group of people I'd rather be making this journey with.
It really is Egg Fu Yong. There is no place I or any of you can
go to learn how to be a congregation of our aspirations. There is
no static answer; it's all dynamic. We have to envision and re-envision
the congregation that we want to be a part of. We have to envision
what we think will work. We need to be guided by our intuitions,
do what makes sense, and make our best guess at what will serve
the largest good. Then we need to act on all of that, and then act
on it again, and again... forever into the future. That's what spiritual
discipline is, I think - taking in what information is available,
responding responsibly, reflecting on our actions and then acting
again.
And it takes all of us. On this day when we welcome new members
to the congregation, we would do well to remember that we are all
ministers of this congregation, all pursuing our shared vision of
a ministry that has a mission of transforming hearts, homes, the
community and the world. The ways in which any of us promote our
mission, furthers that mission for all of us. The way in which any
one of us responds to a visitor here, is the way that our congregation
has responded to that visitor - for good or for ill.
All living things are formed by being,
and shaped by their environment,
growing if nourished well by virtue;
I'm not saying that the couple who visited here recently have nothing
to learn from their experience about trying to find their way into
a new community after leaving one they obviously loved so dearly.
I wish them well.
I am saying though, that they've also given us an opportunity to
learn. They've given us an opportunity to recognize that we need
to be ever more vigilant, ever more intentional in our quest to
welcome the stranger and to welcome one another.
Our guests have given us an opportunity to make better Egg Fu Yong.
And when a good recipe comes down the pike, we might as well start
slicing and dicing. What we're doing here is good, very good, and
I expect it will continue to get better and better.
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