“Love, yes, love your calling,

for this holy and generous love will impart strength to you

so as to enable you to surmount all obstacles.”

~St. Mary Euphrasia Pelletier

In the late 1820s, a “change in inner conviction” led the Rev. Dr. Theodore Clapp to begin preaching universalism in New Orleans. This change inspired the Mississippi Presbytery to try him for heresy. The vote was for excommunication. Rev. Clapp returned home to New Orleans after his conviction in February 1833 and attempted to resign as pastor. Instead, a new church was born when the majority of the congregation voted to leave the Presbytery with him. Since 1833, this congregation has survived yellow fever epidemics, the Civil war, fires, fire-bombings, bankruptcy, and church-planting-through-schism. Born out of a conviction that all are loved, this congregation has been re-born, re-created, time and time again.

Eight years ago this May, the First Unitarian Universalist Church of New Orleans was on the brink of a break through. Membership and pledging levels had reached modern era highs, a new minister had been called, counter-oppression work was going on within the congregation – the excitement was palpable on a Sunday morning.

Then there was a burglary in June. And then another in July, along with a Tropical Storm that knocked out power. In August, the local School District chose not to renew its lease with the congregation, creating a vast hole in the budget. And almost immediately thereafter, Hurricane Katrina came through town and the levees broke.

The church sat in 4-5 feet of water for almost 3 weeks. The congregation was scattered across the country. The newly called minister and her wife found themselves digging through muck, trying to pull their dreams out of the destruction, standing on the side of love with a congregation they barely knew.

Knowing its own history, being in relationship with the larger denomination, and living into the mystery have certainly played large roles in this almost miraculous continuity of Unitarian Universalism in the city of New Orleans. And perhaps as significant as all of the above is the thread, woven throughout each incarnation of the congregation, of loving, yes loving, the calling to be a liberal religious presence in the Deep South.

I invite you, in this season of contemplation, to think about the calling of your faith community, the calling of your life. Revisit your history, your most sustaining stories. Be in relationship – locally, regionally, nationally, globally – with all who share some of your story, your faith. Live into the mystery that is each new day with an open heart and a curious mind. And love, yes love, your calling as a person of faith in a world hungry for the conviction that all are loved.

May this holy and generous love impart strength to you as you are born and re-born again into a universe whose only constant is change.

First, let me introduce myself, as this is my first post at Quest for Meaning. I am Rev. Dr. Matt Tittle, minister of Central Unitarian Church in Paramus, NJ. I have been blogging since 2006, most prominently at the Houston Chronicle from 2006-2010. I am delighted to begin blogging here, where I will post every other Monday. You can read a more complete bio at the “bloggers” link above.

When I was kid growing up in Charleston, South Carolina, there was an old man who we called the “peanut man” at the downtown market. Everyday, he would push a wooden cart around selling boiled peanuts. I love boiled peanuts! The peanut man would constantly sing a little jingle. You could hear him coming like an ice cream truck. He would sing, “Peanuts. Get your peanuts here. Boiled peanuts. I can’t eat all these peanuts by myself.” We always bought a bag or two of boiled peanuts whether we needed them or not.

The peanut man was an evangelist. You couldn’t go to the Charleston Market without knowing about boiled peanuts, because he was always sharing his good news. Some people tried the peanuts and didn’t like them, and that was ok. Maybe they preferred roasted, or a different kind of nut altogether: macadamias, walnuts, almonds and pecans, or the ever-elusive and always hard-to-crack filbert. I love boiled peanuts, but I never tried them until I bought some from the peanut man because I didn’t know about them. I try to be like the peanut man in my own evangelism, never pushy, but always present.

In the Bible, there is a similar story of evangelism. After the Exodus from Egypt, Moses and the Israelites set out into the Sinai wilderness where they wandered for forty years, eventually crossing the Jordan River near the plains of Moab, east of the Dead Sea, before going on to their conquest of Canaan. During their wanderings, the people, some 600,000 of them, did a lot of complaining. They were hungry and wanted more meat, they longed for the fish and abundant produce they left behind in Egypt, even though they had been slaves there. Sometimes God would just punish them for their complaining, and sometimes Moses would intercede on their behalf.

One night, early in the journey, sometime probably during their third year, the people were complaining and Moses was having a really bad day. After walking around the camps listening to the crying families inside their tents, he spoke to God and said,

Why have I not found favor in your sight that, that you lay the burden of all these people on me? Did I conceive all these people? Did I give birth to them, that you should say to me “carry them in your bosom as a nurse carries a sucking child,” to the land that you promised on the oath of their ancestors? Where am I to get meat to give all these people? For they come weeping to me and say, “Give us meat to eat!” I am not able to carry all these people by myself, for they are too heavy for me. If this is the way you are going to treat me, put me to death at once – if I have found favor in your sight – and do not let me see my misery.”

Of course, God knew that Moses couldn’t eat all those peanuts by himself—that he couldn’t minister to 600,000 people on his own, so he told Moses to find seventy others. God put the spirit into them—ordained them if you will—to let them share the burden of the 600,000 with Moses. Hey, that’s less than 8,572 people per prophet, there are many larger congregations.

But, as is often the case, not all of these new preachers followed the rules. Two of the newly ordained prophets, Eldad and Medad, stayed in the camp among the people, and preached there instead of in the tent where prophesying was supposed to take place. When some complained to Moses that there were people preaching in the camp, Moses replied: “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them.”

All the Lord’s people as prophets is a message that has continued throughout the ages. In the 16^th century, Martin Luther promoted the idea of the priesthood of all believers when he taught that everyone has access to the divine, not just the priests. In the 20^th century, Unitarian minister James Luther Adams framed this idea again in terms of prophesy when he promoted the prophethood of all believers. Each one of us is a prophet. Each of you is a prophetic voice in the wilderness with something to say about your faith. Share it. Use your voice. Don’t squander it out of fear or uncertainty.

“Peanuts. Boiled peanuts. Get your peanuts here. I can’t eat all these peanuts by myself.”