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Saturday Worship At Urban Church Conference Pays Homage To
Cities
(Click here to read The Rev. Edward Searl's sermon
in its entirety.)
 (Chicago,
IL March. 10, 2001) The Rev. Edward Searl used words written by the Rev.
William F. Schulz to open the Saturday worship service at the UUA Urban Ministry
Conference in Chicago, IL. A Chalice Lighting and Responsive Reading followed:
"We Arrive Out of Many Singular Rooms," by Kenneth L. Patton:
We arrive out of many singular rooms, walking over the branching streets
We come to be assured that brothers and sister surround us, to restore
their images on our eyes.
We enlarge our voices in common speaking and singing.
We try again that solitude found in the midst of those who with us seek
their hidden reckonings.
Our eyes reclaim the remembered faces; their voices stir the surrounding
air.
The warmth of their hands assures us, and the gladness of our spoken
names.
This is the reason of cities, of homes, of assemblies in the houses of worship.
It is good to be with one another.
The Group sang the hymn, "Touch the Earth, Reach the Sky," and
an invocation followed, concluding with these words: "Let there be gratitude
for the labors that preceded us…and let there be hope, for those who will
follow, for those for whom we prepare the way…" Click
here for the complete text of the invocation.
 After
a moment of meditation and reflection and a musical interlude provided by
Donald Neal, music director of Third Unitarian Church in Chicago, Searl and
ministerial intern Jeff Briere offered a sermon with commentary from the Utne
Reader's issue on cities interspersed.
Searl related an experience he had had the previous summer.
He said, "I had a friend, a member of my Hinsdale congregation. Hinsdale is
fifteen miles due west of Chicago… [and] my friend is passionately involved
with a historic corridor which goes from the town of Summit outside of Chicago
to LaSalle, where the canal joins the Illinois River…last spring, my friend
invited me to tag along with him and civic officials to explore the Chicago
Portage. That is one of only two national historic sites in Illinois. It is
pocketed in one of those remnant pieces of nature known as 'forest preserves'
backed by a chemical plant which leaches, I understand, noxious chemicals
into the river….
"I've never given that little chunk of land much thought" he
said. "It has a massive scultpture of Marquette and Joliet rusting in an empty
concrete moat in a litter-strewn parking lot…it is in an unimpressive location
that I thought was reserved for underage drinking and secret assignation….My
friend said, 'this place has so much meaning, you've go to see it.'
We walked," Searl said, "across the shaggy meadow into the woods.
Mosquitoes rose…mud from the deer trail stuck to our shoes…the woods were
scruffy, and I couldn't see what would make this place so special. As we walked,
the guide said, 'this was the area where the natives, passing from the river
to the area once known as mud lake, portaged their canoes. You're near the
continental divide,' the guide told us.
Then he plucked a small green spike from a mound, and said,
'smell.' He passed it around, and said, 'it's knotting onion. It's the plant
that gave Chicago its name.' "It means something," Searl said, "like 'stinking'
or 'odiferous.' This was a food that the natives could always rely on. They
could eat the green part and dig down for the bulb. And it would never have
grown along the muddy shores of Lake Michigan, but only here. This is likely
the place, the center, where Chicago was born and how it got its name.
So." he continued, "as the guide talked and I inhaled from my
fingers the persistent pungency of the knotting onion, I had a flashing realization…a
genuine religious experience. A Southwest Airlines plane was climbing overhead,
trucks wound by, a freight train lumbered by…the sanitary and ship canal was
nearby. The old route, the magic old route connecting Rt. 66, ran only a few
miles distant. Here was the reason for Chicago, the pivot of one of the great
cities of the world. Had I been alone, or less self- conscious, I might have
stretched out my arms and turned circles in the throes of ecstasy…an ecstasy
of wonderment and gratitude, of harmony. That truly unexpected moment in an
unlikely place. I had a sure religious experience, and I imagined that experience
that Ron Engel identified in his book "Sacred Sands," of an area that came
to embody the spirituality of Chicago. I flashed how Ron had described the
great ecosystems of American converging on one spot…
"I thought, 'I'm standing on God's navel.' In that moment, I
also flashed on "Nature's Metropolis", by William Cronin, which has helped
to recast contemporary environmental history…thanks to Mr. Cronin's analysis,
whenever I drive into the city, I look up to that Art Deco rendition of the
ancient goddess of rain, who claims her throne to the city atop the board
of trade building…I pay [the goddess] Seris silent homage, for the forces
of nature she mythologizes.
"Chicago didn't happen by chance. Its reason for being is rooted
in nature…what's true for Chicago, I say, is true of every city. Cities result
from reality where nature and human nature seek to serve each other. Each
city has a reason for being, that is geographic fact…I say that with the passion
of a dedicated seeker. Spirit resides where cities take place. Cities, even
before they are inhabited, but certainly after and surely forever, are sacred
places. Our work in building them and reforming them, doubles that holiness.
"I urge you, as you continue to do the work of this conference,
never forget that you are engaged in a religious endeavor. In my mind you
are giving your self up to a sacred endeavor. You are doing holy work, honoring
and expanding holiness across the land, in already-sacred places in our lives
and in the common world. Nature's meaning and reality is your strength…
"We all know what happened to many American cities, particularly
in the 80's and 90's in the rust belt region…factories closed down, new schools
and malls rose in the suburbs. Left behind were the mostly underclassed and
underpowered…I experienced all of this in my first church, the First Unitarian
church of Youngstown, OH. My contract started on what is arguably the city's
most infamous day, the day the steel mill known as Youngstown Sheet and Tube,
went out of business, starting a domino effect that closed all the mills,
a day known as Black Monday. Six years later, Youngstown had the highest unemployment
in the nation…those first six years, I worked to keep a struggling little
church alive…I worked in a variety of ways to keep a city stable when its
economy was already shrinking…they were in ways the best of times, when …small
accomplishments had measurable significance. Youngstown had a soul, forged
in the mills first by eastern immigrants and then African American s from
the south…it had peculiarities too… organized crime and other things that
forged its soul. But for at least a year after leaving it, it remained part
of my soul.
"By all appearances," said Searl, "American cities seem to be
reforming. Middle class folks are moving back in, some baby boomer empty nesters,
but young adults too. The result is escalating urban real estate prices…and
those who stayed behind seem to have found a renewed enthusiasm. This renewed
interest in the city makes this an opportune time for promoting the spectrum
of justice issues that you are concerned with… in my current experience, the
cooperative, liberal, yet not progressive faith groups are in the vanguard
of reforming the cities…maybe not the city beautiful, but the city just.
"Lewis Mumford remains a favorite voice…he had much to say about
the city…in his 1938 book, "The City," he waxes poetically…'The city is both
a physical utility for collective living, and a symbol of those collective
purposes and unanimities…with language itself, it remains humankinds' greatest
work of art.' Yes, I'm saying to you, love the city as a work of art. It is
natural genius transformed through human aspiration and striving. But also
love your city. Be enthused by the spirit of nature and humanity that creates
and recreates it. Explores its soul. Be intimate with its glory. Dare to let
your soul seep into your city, even as your city seeps into you. Do your justice,
that the spirit of the city might be honored, the soul of the city rectified…perhaps
in the process your own soul saved…for the sake of all the people in service
of all that we hold sacred."
The service concluded with the gathering singing the hymn, "Hail
the Glorious Golden City." Closing words, given by Searl and Brier, were adapted
from Kenneth Patton in a piece entitled, ""This City," which concluded, "The
city is a cradle for our dreams, the workshop of our common endeavor."
Reported and photographed for the web by Deborah
Weiner; formatted for the web by Julie
Albanese.
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