Newsletter

Last week I volunteered to referee at my son Thomas' baseball game. As the parent of a player, I've done this many times over the years. But for some reason this time it was different. Sure, the middle school teams play on a bigger field — meaning I had to run farther and strain my ever-weakening eyes to see some of the plays. But what felt different were the reactions to the close calls — and there seemed to be more close calls this time. These calls went for and against both teams, eliciting equally strong reactions.

I could see where people disagreed with some of my decisions. Seeing the plays from their angle in the stands and the difference in timing, the runners' footfalls look different and the sound of the ball hitting the glove is delayed, certainly they could have seen the same event differently than did I. I can understand differences of opinion. But what I had more difficulty with was the way those differences were expressed.

Some adults yelled voraciously after I called a runner out at second; they screamed near obscenities when I called a runner safe at first. The venom in their howls was particularly strong. I could handle the adults' screaming; what was worse was when the players started yelling at me, too. Nothing like having 13- and 14-year-olds yelling at you to make your day. The absolute worst part for me was when I started saying to myself, "The next close call and you're out, no matter what." I was quickly losing my iimpartiality due to the attacks in the field.

As I walked off the field after the game, mercifully shortened by the 10-run rule (no, this was not a close game, the winning team finished it in five innings with an 11-run lead), Thomas' coach said to me, "You did just fine." I thought, "And I'll never do it again."

Which role you identify with in my real-life parable depends on your vantage point. Many of us may have felt like the besieged umpire, misunderstood and not respected, other times or places we may have been the angry adult. (I know I was after last fall's election.) There has been a lot of angry dialogue in our country that has caused many people to no longer want to play. This is happening everywhere, from the U.S. Senate to the Iowa legislature, in our city council chambers and school board — heck, even our farmer's market has acrimoniously split.

Even in our Fellowship, such breakdowns have happened. Anger has its place, but too often it overrules everything else and destroys the chance for both parties to discuss their views of the play at second, admit mistakes or differences of opinion, and maintain relationships.

How can we make mistakes, disagree and keep talking? I wish I could finish this parable with a pithy enlightening answer, but I can't. All I can do is hope that together we might strive to live a better way.

See you on Sundays,

Brian

A few years ago, we took a major family trip to celebrate something we absolutely disagreed with.

In the early morning darkness of a bitter February day, Mark and I rousted Keeton, Haven and Zach for the drive to Kansas City. After wrestling all our luggage – everything from a 15-year-old’s essentials to a toddler’s car seat – onto the airport shuttle bus, we were ready for our multi-hour wait in the terminal, when we realized one of the bags had been left on the bus. Because it was out of our custody, we earned a spot in the special bag-search security line, and Mark was singled out for personal searches throughout the trip.

After connecting through Dallas and picking up Mark’s mom, we finally arrived around sunset in San Diego – home of the Marine Corps Recruit Depot and my stepson’s graduation from basic training.

After more than five years of college, it was clear he wasn’t going to cross that stage. This was his big event, the source of his pride and the source of his newfound belief that he could shape his destiny. And, as Mark noted to Jeffrey, it went against everything we believed in.

For several days, we helped him mark this transition while helping a 5-year-old make sense of the glorification of war that surrounded us. Answering “Why would Jeffrey want to learn to shoot people?” was not an easy task, but it was important practice in maintaining inclusive family relationships despite individual choices.

It was a snapshot of how diversity and caring – two key words at the start of our UUFA mission tatement – involve an inherent tension. How do we use ur energy of action to live out our beliefs in the world, hen walk into Fellowship Hall with others who are using their energy of action to live out opposing perspectives?

In the last few months, many of us have participated in Ames’ conversation about schools. We who choose to be part of the UUFA represent the same spectrum of opinions as the community. But I wonder which of us felt comfortable with how the Fellowship support structure intersected our own roles in the drama.

The Ames School Board includes a current UUFA member and a former UUFA director of religious education. I became a key voice for a community group asking the board to take an action that it ultimately did not. Between one fourth and one-third of our elementary RE kids are directly affected by Roosevelt’s closure, not to mention the Northwood closure and boundary changes. We count among our members teachers and district staff who plugged in to the process at various stages, with various perspectives. And the editor of Ames’ newspaper – asked to weigh in as part of The Tribune’s editorial board – is a pretty regular presence on North Hyland.

We toss around diversity as a core value, but we are dominated by sameness economically, socially, politically and ethnically. Age diversity? OK. Spiritual diversity? Perhaps, as long as nobody strays too far into liberal Christianity.

But when we assume we’re all on the same page and anoint people as fighting the “good fight,” we sometimes neglect to notice who meandered away from that particular conversation or didn’t even show up that morning – or ever again.

But can we make the Fellowship amore nurturing place by leaving politics at the door? I don’t think so.

Community and sometimes global issues are, at their core, personal. When children cry themselves to sleep because of the impact of a school closure, it is deeply personal. When people in the community and district direct attacks at school board members and parents alike, it is deeply personal. Shouldn’t our religious community embrace these wounds and work to heal them?

And personal effects aside, would we really want to remove politics from our conversation? Many of us find a home here because it offers affiliation with people who share concerns about equity.

But we have trouble with social action. Members and friends consistently say it’s important, but we don’t do much about it within the Fellowship. Instead, we recognize each others’ individual efforts outside the UUFA. We debate whether to reflect pass-through fundraising on our balance sheet to show how much we really care about social action.

At the Fellowship, I think we sometimes accept the worst of both worlds when it comes to diversity. A majority sameness silences some voices, while a diversity of opinions keeps us from leveraging our group power for social action.

It is tougher than we often realize to be both caring and diverse.

— Brenda

What are pillars? Why do UU kids learn about world religions? Why don’t our kids know more Bible stories? Parents may have asked these questions about the religious education program over the years. I know I asked them when my sons were in the RE program.

A glance back through history might help us understand the UU approach to religious education or, as some call it, religious growth and learning.

In the 1790s, Kings Chapel, eventually a Unitarian church, included a catechism for young people in its Book of Common Prayer. Not surprisingly, the Bible was the primary source of material. By 1827, William Ellery Channing, a Unitarian minister in Boston, declared that religious education need not be limited to what was in the Bible.

During the early 1800s, Unitarians and Universalists began operating Sabbath schools designed to help poor people. These schools (religious and academic) also provided better nutrition, social events and medical care. (Does this sound a lot like Head Start or hint at social justice as part of our curriculum?)

By 1909, the American Unitarian Association published the Beacon Series of Christian instruction arranged as graded material. To some, this felt too much like a replication of the school model.

In 1937, the AUA president called for a new curriculum reflecting the progressive notions of John Dewey and other educators, as well as the new insights of science, anthropology and psychology.

Sophia Lyons Fahs, a Presbyterian (and later a Unitarian minister) was hired as the curriculum editor. “We wish children to come to know God through original approaches of their own universe,” she said. Storytelling (stories from various cultures) and more artistic and creative components were encouraged.

Growing secularism

By the ’60s, a growing secularism questioned the validity of religious institutions, and the UUA called for another new approach to RE. Hugo Holleroth, the new curriculum editor, supported the “discovery method.”

Eighteen curriculum kits were distributed
to congregations. These kits contained audio-visual material, games, teacher’s guides and books. Some of the titles are God’s Folk, Haunting House, Decision Making and Freedom and Responsibility.

The Fellowship has used several of these over the years. These curricula, with their bias toward secular humanism, were used until 1986, when the UUA responded to parents who wanted more spiritual/religious instruction.

Pillars approach

The “pillars” approach suggested that RE programs rotate through world religions, Jewish and Christian religions, UU identity and social-justice issues.

The UUFA focused on one pillar every year with perhaps a month of social action or a special program such as the Rainbow Path. Last year, the RE Committee adopted a curriculum with a two-year rotation of UUism, world religions, Jewish and Christian history, earthcentered traditions and social justice.

We’re still refining the pillar approach. Because we are diverse in theologies and religious experiences, parents may express questions, doubts or even frustrations about RE programs.

But most of us agree on the benefits of building community and intergenerational friendships, of UU rituals, of a religious identity that supports ‘deeds, not creeds’ and of spiritual literacy.

Religious growth and learning is not limited to Sunday mornings or our curricula. It should take place at home, of course, and it happens during children’s choir, at retreats, on youth trips and probably even during coffee hours.

The latest initiative from the UUA Lifespan Faith Development office is development of a core curriculum.

It seems UUs will continue to adapt to changing times and new discoveries and will attempt to honor and support spiritual evolution in everyone.

— Benette Sherman

Now that we have switched to single services at 10 a.m., what programs are offered to elementary children?

For the past few summers, we have offered Super Summer Sundays. Children ages 4 through sixth-grade meet together for organized activities under the guidance of child-care providers.

Kids start upstairs for all Summer.

Sunday programs

It’s important that children in fifth and sixth grades act as role models or mentors to the younger children or as helpers to the child-care providers if they don’t wish to participate in activities. I hope that parents of this age group will discuss this issue with their kids.

While our RE program does not request a registration fee, it is expected that parents will replenish the snack pantry. So if your child attends RE during the summer, please provide three cans or jars of juice and some sort of snack such as crackers, cookies, etc.

August day camp

We will resume a Fellowship tradition this summer with a three-day “camp” experience called “Me in the Universe,” a program designed to help children understand their places in the vast universe.

Stories, games, walks, food, meditation, rituals and possibly stargazing will be included.

Children in kindergarten through fifth grades should register by July 1 by contacting Benette Sherman. Sixth-graders are welcome to register as program helpers.

The program dates are Aug. 22-24. If there is enough interest, this could be an all-day program, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. or possibly 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.

— Benette Sherman