I am fond of telling stories about how children who grow up in the First Unitarian community remember highlights from their younger years here. I have loved hearing from adults, some my age and older, who still speak about their roles in our Christmas Pageant when they were children, for example.
One of our members, Darin Stewart, shared a story with me recently that brought a smile:
Children learn far more from what we adults do than what we say, of course. We liberal religious folks with our love of learning and our academic degrees can forget this. In this time when it seems that every nor about what is moral and even legal is being shredded, it is good to remind ourselves not only of what this church says, but of what this church does.
“I wanted to relate a short story from my sons. I finally got around to replacing my decrepit old truck this week. For better or worse the new truck is quite a bit larger than the old one. When I brought it home, the first comment from the boys was Liam saying, ‘Dad, this is awesome. We’ll be able to haul even more pumpkins to the church this year.’ It made me happy that increased pumpkin carrying capacity was the first thing that occurred to a pre-teen boy when presented with a large truck. That annual pumpkin sale has become a core childhood memory for our kids.”
We tell different stories about what is good and about what is loving. Whether it is delivering pumpkins to the church or sandwiches to our homeless neighbors, whether it is hanging a Black Lives Matter Banner or hosting asylum seekers, whether it is wrestling with our pronouns or singing to a person at the end of their life…we try to live a different norm, a different standard for what a good life looks like.
We are making different memories, and those memories become standards and benchmarks for us. We are setting norms all the time by what we say and what we do. Even for very young members of our community.
A 5 or 6 year old asked me recently about our child dedication ritual. “Why did you touch my head with water?” he asked. That experience had made an impression on him the year before. “That was to bless you,” I replied. “Oh,” was the only verbal response. But the broad smile that came over that small face told me that I had just helped to create another memory.
It was Maya Angelou who said: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Last Sunday morning, I watched a child with their mother usher and welcome people into the sanctuary. It was a simple and uncomplicated image. A parent and child working together in the service of the good. At our best, the life of this community, in ways both large and small, helps us feel that love can be real. As we said on Easter, Hallelujah!
Bill