SERVICE OPENER—MOTHERS’ DAY

—by Tenley Black

Good Morning. As a new mother, I am proud to welcome you to All Souls this Mothers’ Day.

I come from a family of spiritual vagabonds, so it should not come as a surprise that I have landed at All Souls. My grandparents on my mother’s side had their children both baptized and attend Hebrew School. My mother has tested her compatibility with assorted orders, from Black Panthers, to Islam and finally Judaism.

We were not raised to observe any religious rites, although one Christmas, Mom conscripted us to be ushers at St. John the Divine, which first garnered us many smiles and much appreciation from the other volunteers, as well as seats front and center at the televised service. However, when the minister invited the congregation to take communion, and gestured for us to be the first in line, we looked at each other with embarrassment and bewilderment, and anxiously waved off the invitation, leaving the rest of the worshipers at a loss at what to do since we were blocking the aisle. I didn’t know what the appropriate etiquette was under the circumstances, but one thing I did know was that I could not eat the wafer and drink the wine simulating someone who believed she was eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Christ.

During elementary school, I used to attend Family Shabbat every Friday night with my best friend Jenny Schoenfeld. I went because as soon as the service ended, it was where the girls would team up against the boys in a wrestling match to prove who was tougher. The parents paid us no mind as they enjoyed a reception very similar to our coffee hour, oblivious to the epic struggle for supremacy that was ongoing.

My reason for coming to All Souls two years ago was to learn more about my respected grandmother, Nana, who chose to become a Unitarian Universalist at the end of her life, after a lifetime disavowing her Catholic upbringing and maintaining her independent identity despite pressures from her inlaws to convert to Judaism.

As my encounters with organized religion were always from the periphery, I felt hopeful that my husband Sean and I could sneak into All Souls without much human interaction and escape without entanglements. I had made a resolution as a child that the laws of my religion were to be guided by my conscience and not by an institution.

The service took place on “Coming of Age Sunday,” when the ninth graders pronounced their credo statements before the congregation. I was struck by how each was permitted to formulate his or her own beliefs, much as I had done, not in private but standing at the pulpit. I was intrigued, but not convinced. I needed to return for further investigation. Over time, I found myself roused by the bold, liberal stance taken on issues of morality and politics. I was moved by Forrest and Galen’s weekly behest to take action against injustice in any one of its many forms. I was impressed by the congregants who were opinionated and thoughtful, far from the observant but not necessarily spiritual denizens I associated with regular church-goers in the past. And overall I was satisfied with Forrest’s statement that, “We are free, as Unitarian Universalists, to define our faith more broadly, to widen our circle of inquiry, as a religious act, not an irreligious one.”

These open-minded, compassionate attitudes banished my fear of belonging. I am amused each time I mention to someone that, “At church this Sunday, an interesting subject was raised,” or “We got involved in this through our church.” These are the last words I ever expected to utter.

And yet, here I am, opening the service no less. I am grateful that I can continue to explore my individual spiritual identity—but within a community that supports my freedom to do so. Unlike in my own home, where different religions were tried on like so many different hats that didn’t fit, I am happy to offer my daughter the flexibility to choose or reject Unitarian Universalism, in whatever shape that conforms with her credo.