It seems like it’s been a while since I’ve had as enjoyable a summer as this one’s been. It was filled with travel and new places, some wonderful family times, reconnecting with old friends and beginning new relationships. I was able to enjoy a nicely balanced season of work and play.

Just as an aside, I want to mention the most wonderful book I read this summer, Ahab’s Wife by a Unitarian Universalist author, Sena Jeter Naslund. This potential classic, a great PR piece for Unitarian Universalism, is an excellent feminine counter part to Moby Dick by Herman Melville (who just by the way, was also a Unitarian). Ahab’s Wife, interestingly enough, also explores the themes of unlikeliness and harmony, which are at the heart of this morning’s sermon.

Unsolicited testimonials aside though, I enjoyed this summer with many wonderful and rich experiences for which I’m quite grateful. Among them was a trip Judy and I took with our youngest daughter, Shana, in mid August. Our destination was a beautiful rural area about 40 miles northwest of Augusta, Maine. The occasion was a wedding. But before I tell you a bit about the wedding, I suppose I need to digress just a little.

Twenty years ago, shortly after I became a Unitarian Universalist, I began what would develop into a ten-year career as an R.E. teacher. In my very first class, twenty years ago, I had two brothers aged six and eight who, I must say, were both challenging and delightful. Jos and Ben were the sons of our very close friends, Ruth and Rob Robbins.

The Robbins family moved away from the little town of Stockton, Illinois about the same time we did. They went to Michigan, we to Iowa. Over the years we’ve stayed in touch with too few visits, but still an abundance of affection.

The wedding I conducted in Maine, last month, was of the older brother, Jos. Twenty years after I was his Sunday School teacher, I stood under a beautiful willow tree with this 28 year old man and his bride, Lidie Whittier. The Whittier farm, by the way, where the wedding took place, has been in that family for the past two hundred years.

The sentimental value of this whole experience was exquisitely precious. Most of you know that I am a sap. I’d also have you know though, that while my voice might have caught once or twice, I maintained a modicum of decorum and dignity throughout the ceremony, thank you very much. But there we were, the Robbins and the Ortmans, over a thousand miles from Stockton, Il and at least a light year from those long ago days of young families and early friendships.

There were other long time Illinois friends who had traveled to the festivities: Tom and Mel Heidenreich–life long Unitarian Universalists and dairy farmers; and Bonnie and John Cox–Bonnie a social worker and John a lawyer and former U.S. Congressman who lost his seat in the Gingritch Contract on American landslide of 1994. There we all were, at least for a few days, merging with the Whittier family of Vienna, Maine. It was an incredibly rich experience — ripened by the fullness of life and in the fullness of time.

When I perform weddings, I generally take a moment or two, just before the vows, to share what I hope is a pertinent message for the bride and the groom, as well as for the guests who’ve gathered. What struck me at that moment in Jos and Lidie’s ceremony, was how incredibly unlikely a gathering and event the wedding was.

How incredibly unlikely the location, and the timing, and the mix of people. How unlikely the transcendence of time and space that would have Jos and Lidie meeting each other four years earlier on a 30° below zero January afternoon on the side of a mountain in the middle of Wyoming. How unlikely for me, that when I was just married and beginning my own family, I would have as a student a boy with whom, twenty years later, I would celebrate the beginnings of his marriage and the beginnings of his family.

Sometimes we have to see things over and over again before we’re able to get a good grasp of the obvious. This was one of those times. It occurred to me there, under the willow tree, standing with the bride and groom, and surrounded by dear old friends and some wonderful new ones. It occurred to me, with a sensation of awe, just how incredibly unlikely is the universe. It’s incredibly unlikely that any of us were ever born or survived to this moment. It’s incredibly unlikely that we are here together.

Let’s digress together again, back to another moment in time, to the moment, the very moment the universe began. First there was the potential for all things, a unity, a oneness. And then Boom! The universe was born and out of the oneness that had been…became everything that is. Swirling and spinning and expanding through space were all the elements that are still present.

Billions and billions of years later, the elements that have come together through time and space to become you and me could have ended up in any other galaxy or supernova in the universe. But they didn’t. They ended up here. We ended up here. Who’d have ever guessed? It’s all very unlikely.

The 18^th century, scientist/philosopher, Paul Henri Thiry doesn’t account for the universe’s beginnings, but he wrote, "The universe shows us nothing save an immense and unbroken chain of cause and effect." In retrospect, we might be able to trace the chain that brought us here back to the first instant of time.

Perhaps each of us has our own favorite explanation of how and why the beginning began. But as we look, not back, but forward in time, how can we explain–of all the unlikely turns of events–how potential becomes likely, and then finally becomes reality.

The answer, I think, is religiously quite telling. Some religious traditions hold that an all knowing and powerful God directs and produces this big picture. Some of us find such an answer to be unsatisfactory though.

The thought that occurred to me in the middle of the wedding and has recurred several times since then, is one I find to have significant implications. Perhaps it’s not a new thought for you; it’s not new for me. But it’s a thought that I’ve found to have a rather profound impact, as though I’ve discovered some new layer of its meaning.

Things occur or cease to occur as the result of being in or out of harmony with the universe. Those things in harmony continue and evolve. They become further developments of what was. Those things out of harmony cease to develop. Their elements may not disappear, but break down and are redistributed into some new and possibly more harmonic aspect of the universal process.

I said the thought wasn’t a new one. Models of it can be found in most academic disciplines; homeostasis in biology, harmonics in music; factor functions in mathematics; and systems models in the fields of sociology and psychology. In all of them we see that harmony sustains, and we’ve come to trust these models. I wonder if we are really so trusting with our theological models, though.

When it comes to our spiritual or religious lives, and the way we relate to the universe, do we sometimes pay lip service to the role of harmonic sustenance, but in our inner recesses, look for some kind of a Cecil B. DeMille/director-god? Do we, too, rely on luck, and superstition, and notions of predestination? As UU’s, we might hate to admit it, but don’t we even sometimes rely on a theology of vicarious atonement? Not that Jesus died so that we might be delivered from sin. Vicarious atonement in that we are called to live responsibly in a shrinking world, and yet we are far too willing to imagine that however we might live, corrections will be implemented by some source larger than ourselves, corrections that will magically atone for our wrongdoings and save the planet–despite our actions.

All the while, the entire history of the universe reminds us that things in harmony continue and evolve, and that things out of harmony cease to develop. Plato understood this when he said, "Happiness is gained by a use, and the right use, of the things of life."

For Plato, "right use" was the equivalent of harmony. Some of us envision harmony in the same way. Some of us find it so encompassing, we call it natural science, or God, or love, or the Spirit of Life. However we envision or call that harmony, it is that vision which provides each of us with our systems of religious symbols and metaphors. It is our religious path, be it birth right or adopted, that calls us, either clearly or obscurely, into the universal harmony.

So we expand and move from the unlikelihood of existence to the actuality of being, and then perhaps to the potential of wholeness–by pursuing and fulfilling harmonic balance. And it is our spiritual/religious nature that compels us toward this harmony.

I think there is no better religion, no religious path more accessible to promoting universal harmony than Unitarian Universalism. Our religious tradition encourages us, as individuals and in community, to meet the universe on our own terms, to be blest by it and to bless it in return. So let’s move on to "UU 101."

Twice within the last week, I’ve found myself in conversation with some members of our congregation. Actually I’ve had several more conversations than that, but in these two the same question arose. I find it an incredibly important question for us, and one I want to address.

The question is: If we have no understanding of a common deity, how can Unitarian Universalism really be a religion? This is the question that the Senior Lunch Bunch will be discussing at our meeting next month. Since we’re at the beginning of our church year though, and getting back into things, I don’t want to wait until then to start the conversation.

So that you won’t have to guess where I’m coming from, my answer is, YES! U.U. is definitely a religion.

There are many folks who say that Unitarian Universalism, Buddhism, Taoism and others are not religions because they are not ordered by revelations that come from the authority of God or a group of gods. We have to look though, at who’s making the claim, at who’s establishing the criteria for the definition. In our western culture, for centuries it was the Christian Church that was the safe keeper of education, knowledge and even of language. Is it any wonder that the church would exclude from the definition of religious any institution that was not built upon the same hierarchical structure as itself?

In a part of my seminary education that I took at a non-U.U. seminary, I mistakenly registered for a theology class that…well…didn’t exactly work out. The professor began the first session by defining theology as the "study of divinity as revealed through Holy Scripture by Jesus Christ." The first session of the class was also my last, but that’s not the point. The point is we do ourselves a disservice to allow others to define who we are, and who we are not.

The realm of religion is larger than any particular type or sect. What is common among all religions is not orientation, theology, structure or style, What is common is that religion is a cultural, a social effort to provide its membership with company–community, as individuals within it seeks to explore, expand and express their spiritual selves.

Spirituality is the personal quest; religion is its institutional setting. Though religion may and often does include a deity as director, it need not and often does not require that element as its basis. Unitarian Universalism is the religious home for those of us who seek spiritual sustenance in community with others who strive to live the examined life of integrity without dogma or doctrine.

Nearly two centuries ago, Unitarian William Ellery Channing said, "Be careful how you live; it is the only sermon that you preach."

Eighty years later, his name sake, Unitarian minister William Channing Gannett said, "Ethics thought out is religious thought, ethics felt out is religious feeling, and ethics lived out is the religious life."

What I would add is the thought that what we do does matter. It does not matter that we follow rules that once made sense but no longer do. What once was is no longer. The universe is expanding. Holding on to a point fixed in the past fails to recognize our need to evolve with the universe.

It’s those things in harmony with the universe that evolve and continue.

While it does not make good religious sense to follow rules that once held meaning but no longer do, it is also folly to imagine that we are free to refrain from responding to our universe in a responsible manner. Being a religious liberal doesn’t mean being free of limitations. It means that we are each accountable for determining the limits that we will live within.

And then we come together in community to test and explore those limits, to be energized by them so we can do the work of our lives. It’s in that way that our ethics become our religious thought and feeling, that our ethics become our religious life. It is in this way that we seek to imbue with integrity the sermon that is our life.

Is there a unified religious goal that can be identified as Unitarian Universalist? This is often considered to be a sensitive question. We regularly feel that, if we were to clearly state our purpose, not everyone would be in agreement and some of us might feel excluded. The truth of the matter is: Unitarian Universalism really isn’t for everyone. It is a religious way, not the religious way. We do come together for a purpose. It is disingenuous for us to for us to imply otherwise and it is incumbent upon us to articulate it as clearly as possible. My friend and colleague Scott Alexander says and I agree, "Is there a unified religious goal that can be identified as Unitarian Universalist? You bet there is. The goal in one word is salvation. The goal of Unitarian Universalism is to save the human enterprise on all levels."

It is our responsibility to save ourselves for decency and for purpose and for joy. We are no good to the world, nor good to anyone else if we are not good to ourselves. Being good to ourselves means taking time for spiritual discipline, taking time for personal growth, taking time to heal and forgive and to seek forgiveness, taking time to enjoy and appreciate this wonderful gift of life we’ve been given. Saving ourselves means that we are seeking to find our way–to be sustained–within the harmony.

We are responsible for saving one another, for allowing that which is god, or love, or decency in ourselves to connect with and uphold that which is god, or love or decency in others. We are called to be in responsible relationships. We are called to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of one another. Saving one another means that we are seeking to find our way–to be sustained–within the harmony.

It is our religious goal to save our human communities and cultures. This includes our efforts to eliminate social injustice, racism, homophobia and violence. This includes the efforts of our After School Program to educate marginalized children, to provide them with a level playing field. This includes our efforts to promote world peace, a peace that begins in each of our homes and then reaches out to embrace the world in loving harmony. Saving our communities and culture means just that. It means we are seeking to find our way–to be sustained–within the harmony.

And finally it is our liberal religious goal to do nothing less than to save creation. This wonderful and precious globe, this Gaya, this home of our life-form is in desperate need of salvation and our spiritual/religious, our individual/corporate response must be to become a part of that salvation. Saving our planet means that we are seeking to find our way–to be sustained–within the harmony.

So many times people ask, "What is our religious vision?" I tell you it is no more nor less than this: it is salvation. The purpose of Unitarian Universalism is to promote harmony. Our religious goals are to save the human enterprise by finding and upholding the spirit of harmony within ourselves, within our interpersonal relationships, among our communities, and throughout all of creation.

It’s no small task. That’s why we need one another. It is this very spiritual, this very religious harmony that we seek to participate in, in order to be sustained. We are fortunate to have found a religious path that calls us to such a lofty and vital vision.

It was never very likely that we would end up here together anyway. But since we have, we might as well just make the most of it. We find ourselves in the midst of the harmony that has been ringing for billions and billions of years. It’s playing our song. The day breaks once again. Shall we join the chorus?