Dark, Light, and the Challenge of Language

I spoke this morning about language and how it affects us, and the challenge to move beyond a feeling of being "PC" and toward radical inclusion (you can listen here). If you were there, or listen to the podcast, you'll notice a moment where I spoke off the cuff about the light in the room (it had suddenly gotten darker) and linked the darkness to the "dark" subject matter of microaggressions. Then I realized I had just DONE a microaggression with the light=good, dark=bad paradigm, and called myself out in the middle of the platform. Hilarious opportunity for on the spot learning. But not surprisingly, that particular microaggression was the one I heard from a couple of people about afterward, questioning whether it was really valid. I say not surprisingly because I've sure struggled with it, and I still find it complicated. On the one hand, I completely get that over many years, we have developed a cultural narrative about dark things being bad. I don't like that narrative, and I want to work against it. On the other hand (as a member of my congregation pointed out this morning), it's not unreasonable to note that humans evolved to be diurnal, and that we might therefore find the daylight and sun appealing. I'd love to hear from more folks about this one--how do you handle it? Are there lines you won't cross in your language? We try, in the wintertime, to have music that honors the beautiful, serene element of winter darkness...but we certainly still have music that welcomes back the coming of the sun. I work hard to avoid "black sheep" and "white knights" and similar phrases. What works for you? How do you feel about this language challenge? And what are other challenges that you work with in the realm of language?

Connecting In to the Manifold

At some point during the week--usually about 8pm on Saturday night--I wonder why it is that all these clergy are writing different messages for Sunday morning. Couldn't those of us in the same tradition just split up the weeks, each take one, and read each other's stuff the other 51 weeks of the year? Later in the week--usually, and thankfully, by 11am on Sunday morning--I've decided there is something unique to say, something that is just right for this congregation of people at this time. But I still wonder, how are we connecting with each other, in our individual little meeting houses and societies and churches. How is the particular-ness of what happens at my congregation on Sunday part of a movement or a tradition that relates to the particular-ness of what happens at your congregation at the very same time? For me, the answer is often in the music we share. Although WES doesn't use a hymnal, we do frequently sing songs that are found in other Ethical Societies or in UU congregations. Two Sundays ago, we had an especially connected morning: singing two new pieces, one written by a local UU and one by a member of the Brooklyn Ethical Society. In both cases we actually know the composers, and there was something just so sweet about singing this music that was written out of the traditions we're connected to, part of that big river of liberal religious and ethical movements--a river that extends back hundreds of years and that is alive and flowing now. Then this past Sunday, we closed with a beautiful song we've sung before, and after the platform service someone came up and told me I should really friend the composer on Facebook, that she was a neat person. I'm so grateful for the connection that music creates, and the way it links us with each other...even in our particularity.