The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Salem, Oregon

UUCS Sermons
Sermon by the Reverend Richard R. Davis

In 1905 President Theodore Roosevelt - a hardworking man of action and taskmaster towards subordinates if ever there was one - offered an unemployed young man a well paid government job in the New York Customs house and made sure that he would have very little official business to conduct.  Was this a scandalous waste of the taxpayer’s money?   No, it was a very wise cultural investment.  This young man, Edward Arlington Robinson was a very fine poet and were it not for Roosevelt ’s intervention he would have continued to live in poverty and few would probably have ever heard of him.  And most certainly, the poem we’ve just heard would either never have been written or if it had been written, would have been lost to posterity.  So, I’d like to belatedly thank the first President Roosevelt for his open mindedness to unique possibilities, for being so hospitable to the creative spirit and welcoming new talent into American cultural life.   

            The subject of this, my favorite poem by Robinson – “Mr. Flood’s Party, ” which we just heard,  (Have someone – Dennis Ehrp perhaps, read the poem & also have it printed – tell the tale of an old man who has grown old, his friends have all died away, and he is no longer welcome in the world anymore – there is no more hospitality extended to him.  The title of the poem is sad and ironic - the only guest at Mr. Flood’s party is his divided self with whom he engages in dialogue.   The poem resonates – there is a bit of Mr. Flood in all of us, and the more the years flow by the more you will see how true that is.   I am most acutely aware of this in times when I have conducted lightly attended memorial services for very old people who have outlived all their peers and have more or less been forgotten by the world. 

            Yet there is something more to this poem, I think, than just being a commentary on the human condition.  There is also an implicit social commentary here – a commentary on American life.  Something has gone wrong in this world in which doors are shut and old people are left all alone.  Sure, change will happen, but does it need to be such a socially brutal experience?

            I find myself wanting to back up and see if there can be some way to make Mr. Flood’s Party to be a happier affair.   So, in my imagination I go back a couple of decades  before Mr. Flood’s Party to pay a visit to Tilbury Town – I’m on a mission.   

First, I manage to track down a younger Mr. Flood, now a solid, middle aged man in the prime of life, a friendly man who likes to bend an elbow so I manage to join him in the local tavern.  He seems a bit wary around strangers, but once he sees I mean no harm and might be good for a conversation, he relaxes a bit.  I steer the conversation around to his life in Tilbury Town .  He’s grown up there and knows the place well and is basically well regarded.  I learn that he has a regular group of friends who he has known for years.  He has a good life.  After a time I ask him about his relations with the newer people who are moving into Tilbury Town – the younger ones who have come in the past ten years.  Mr. Flood replies that all of his friends are old friends who he’s known pretty much all his life, and although a new family has moved in next door he hasn’t made contact with them – “they’re newcomers, sort of a different breed,” he notes. 

“Well what about your involvement with the youth of Tilbury Town ,” I say. – do you teach in a Sunday School class or have some contact with some other organized program or is there a young neighbor without a dad who could use an older male friend, a  mentor or a tutor?   Mr. Flood tells me he doesn’t have any children of his own, and doesn’t really connect with any young people that much.  He’s friendly enough when he sees them, but that’s about it. 

Now remember, I am a visiting angel in this scene – I have seen into Mr. Flood’s future, but I know he can reach a better destination if he changes course just a bit, day by day.  And thus, I have the right, indeed, an obligation, to offer him a bit of sage advice.  So I say:   “Mr. Flood, you have a good life here now, but I see a dark cloud far off on your horizon, and it is slowly drifting this way, year by year.   First, some good news.   I think you’re going to live a long time – you’re healthy, have exceptional genes.  The bad news is that almost everyone you know and love now – your current friends – are probably going to go before you.  So if you don’t make a little extra, intentional effort to make new friends, to reach out and build new relationships, you’re gonna feel mighty lonely when you’re all that’s left of the old crowd.  Mighty lonely indeed.     As Samuel Johnson once noted:  “If a man does not make new acquaintance as he advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his friendship in constant repair."    “So I know you’re a bit wary of all these newcomers coming to Tilbury Town , but it’s their home, now, too.  And there’re some youngsters here that could definitely benefit from having a fine old friend like you – it’s not really fair of you to deprive them of the blessing of your friendship.  Time is flying by – as the poet says, “the bird is one the wing,” so don’t wait too long on this.

I leave Mr. Flood to ponder upon my words, and I have a good feeling they are sinking in.  Now onto my primary mission which is to visit a particular religious congregation in Tillbury Town .  – Mr. Flood has lived in Tilbury town all his life, and he thinks that organized religion is not for him because he is such a free thinker.  In particular, he doesn’t like religious creeds and being told what to think by preachers.  He isn’t aware that he would fit right in at this theologically liberal congregation.  And I suppose you could blame Mr. Flood for not knowing this – he hasn’t gotten out much and explored.  But there’s just one Mr. Flood and they are a whole congregation, and to be blunt about it, they haven’t done much reaching out to kindred spirits in the community.  In truth, they got kind of comfortable amongst themselves and they haven’t seen too much of a need to make too much effort to invite newcomers in.  Which is not to say that they aren’t welcoming once someone finds them.  They are a pretty friendly bunch.  Yet it’s true that more than one newcomer has left after receiving a perfunctory welcome and then seeing the old timers return to their familiar patterns of talking mostly to each other.  In biblical language, you might say that these people have hidden their light under a bushel.   Too few have seen their light shine. 

So I visit this congregation and ask to speak with key leaders.   And I tell them pretty much the same thing I have told Mr. Flood – that they have a good life together now, but from my lofty, angelic perspective, I can see that they need to reach out more, be more disciplined and intentional about how they welcome and include the stranger, the newcomer – because they are missing opportunities to share the blessings of their community and to promote their vision of a religion that empowers, enlivens and helps liberate people.  And if this current pattern persists over time, then they will someday find themselves living on the margins. 

  At this point I sense that some resistance to my message.  One person speaks up:  “Most of what you say is fine, but you have to understand that in one basic way, we’re not like most other religious groups.  We don’t believe in going out and twisting arms and pushing our message down people’s throats.  We just don’t think that’s right.”

            “And neither do I – I appreciate and applaud being very respectful of people’s freedom of conscience, but does simply letting people know your religious community exists and what you stand for violate that principle?   This is no call to go out and convert, but to go out and share, invite kindred spirits who would be blessed by what you have to offer.  It is not right to deny people this blessing.  It’s a sin of omission.  There are too many people in Tillbury Town who feel that there is nowhere they would fit or be acceptable and they are not making the important social and spiritual connections that can be made here.  There are too many hurting, lonely people who could find new hope and a healing spirit of affirmation here – instead, they must seek for less wholesome ways to dull the pain of their sorrows and their loneliness.  After all, you are not a social club, you are a religious community – your door is open to the newcomer, the stranger, the lost and the lonely, and people need to know that it is open.  You have so much to offer. 

            A prominent member of this liberal congregation responds:  “We don’t’ disagree with what you have said, and we do constantly remind one another to be friendly and welcoming, but you seem to think that’s not enough.  What’s lacking?  What more can we do?

            “Since you ask, I would suggest that you institute practices of intentional hospitality.  That means each of you need to be disciplined and aware of what you are doing.  Accidental, informal hospitality is too random, too hit or miss to result in significant change.  Think of it as a personal spiritual practices.   Spiritual practices seek to open your heart and mind to some new awareness, some new insight, some new inspiration – whether it’s meditation or prayer or study of sacred texts or dance or journaling – the idea is to create an opening for the heart and mind so that something new and wondrous can enter the house of your being.   Such things can happen without spiritual practices, but many truth seekers through the ages have recognized that you increase your chances of receiving new wisdom if you set aside some time to open the doors of your being on a daily basis – it becomes a good habit that renews and sustains you.  It’s the same with communities such as yours.  If you do certain things all together in a conscious and intentional way I am confident you’ll see positive results – new people will come and join you – people who might otherwise have been feeling left out, alone in the world, and these new people will bring you new inspiration that will strengthen and renew your community. 

               Here are the three things that you can do – stretch, welcome and embrace:  So first, stretch by reaching out to the community.  Let people know you exist in whatever way possible – signs, banners, word of mouth, modern technology.  It is especially important that each of you learns how to talk about your unique religious tradition to others in your own words.  Second – open your heart, welcome the newcomer.  Each one of you is called to be a greeter – someone who welcomes the stranger.  This is not a calling for just some members, but for all of you.  Make that part of your identity – think of yourself as someone who welcomes the stranger because you, too, were once a stranger.  Every Sunday carve out at least a few minutes to be aware of newcomers and greet them as you would wish to be greeted. And finally, embrace - make sure that each new member has a friend, a mentor, who will stay in touch on a regular basis to ensure that they don’t fall by the wayside.  

            As I have spoken I can see that since my words are well intentioned, they are well received.   I have not suggested anything that is strange or unpalatable.  Indeed, I have not said anything they have not said amongst themselves before.  Only now, they are listening together and see the whole picture and find a common resolve.   I leave them with a positive feeling – they want to do good, to thrive, to be open and loving and compassionate, and I believe they will.

            So the years pass, and Mr. Flood grew older.  And the time came for his party.  But because he had slightly changed his course in life many years ago when an angel from the future advised him to do so, he does not head over the hill between the town below and the forsaken upland hermitage.  Mr. Flood, kept his old friends, yet he did not neglect to make new, younger friends as he flowed down the river of life – as “he advanced through life he kept his friendships in constant repair.”  Old friends passed away and Mr. Flood grieved this loss, but there were others to fill the empty places in his heart.  And because people from a special community reached out, Mr. Flood found his way there, and the people welcomed him and embraced him.  So Mr. Flood’s party was not a sad, solitary, forlorn occasion.  It was a joyous occasion as young and old celebrated life and love with him.