By the Rev. Rebecca Bryan
Stepping up to the podium, my knees were quaking; my hands and the paper that they held were shaking. I tilted my head up to the microphone and spoke. I don’t remember the exact words I said; however, I most certainly remember the sound that my voice made. It was loud, affirmative, clear in enunciation. It took me by such surprise that I hesitated. My eyes skirted the space around me as if to check if another person had spoken from behind me. 

It was my preaching voice. I had never heard it before. I heard it that night, and so did the 200 guests, mostly members of the Connecticut National Guard and the Stratford Connecticut Kiwanis Club. 

I was twenty-two years old, some five months out of college and working for the Fairfield County March of Dimes. This evening was an event to thank two organizations whose members had been especially helpful in our walk-a-thon that year. As the newest and youngest staff member, I was the chosen one to attend the dinner and receive the award on behalf of our office. 

It was the start of a nearly thirty-year career in fundraising, and yet, even then, the call to ministry was there. My voice was ready, waiting, as if to say, “Remember, this working in fundraising is only a phase, it is for a period of time. There is more to come. Much more.”

“You can have it all.” my Aunt once said to me, “You just can’t have it all at once.” 

Don’t get me wrong. My career in the nonprofit sector offered many gifts. I learned a lot about management, strategic planning, leadership, and eventually consulting. These are skills that many ministers are yet to be taught in seminary. I held five jobs over the course of twenty-two years working in national nonprofits, a youth service agency, and the American Civil Liberties Union.  Each of these jobs required different skills including organizing special events, grant writing, program evaluation, and grass-roots and major-donor fundraising.  I earned a master’s degree, taught as an adjunct professor, and for the last eight years ran my own consulting business helping nonprofits with capital campaigns. 

The two biggest gifts of these decades of work were, first and foremost, that I helped to support my family financially while also being present with my children in a balance that worked for us. The second biggest gift is that I learned about people. 

I learned that people are people regardless of how much money they do or don’t have. I learned that how much money one has does not determine one’s sense of security, wellbeing, or ability to find meaning in life. Money doesn’t keep you out of harm’s way. It doesn’t inoculate you against disease or shield your family from pain. 

This in no way diminishes the very real hardships that come with insufficient money. Every day, far too many people have to choose between buying medication or feeding their pets and between keeping the heat on or paying a car bill. As I said in our Journey of a Lifetime Pledge, the combined effect of race, poverty, gender and other determinants is real. It matters. 

What I am talking about are the realities of having money, a lot of money or even a more-than-is-absolutely-necessary amount of money. These financial situations do not change the fact that we are human. We hurt, we are hurt, and we struggle. 

Of course, I wasn’t the same person five years ago, never mind twenty-five years ago. I didn’t understand what I do now about the confluence of wealth and subsequent priorities in charitable giving. Would I do it all over again? You bet. 

This month is our canvass month at FRS, the month during which we raise the money to fund our annual operating budget for the next church year. 

As we’ve been talking about in advance of the Installation, every Unitarian Universalist congregation is self-supporting. We receive no funds money from our national Unitarian Universalist Association, commonly referred to as the UUA. In fact, we give money each year to the UUA so that its personnel can continue to do the critical work that they do including representing our liberal religious faith in the public religious domain: creating curricula for life-span faith development, offering training sessions on a wide range of topics for lay people and religious leaders, continuing our long standing-tradition of publishing and so many other things. 

It will take nearly $720,000 to run this church next year. The predominance of that, nearly $500,000, comes from pledges and gifts from our members and other supporters. The remainder comes from the cell towers in our steeple which earn $90,000, interest from our endowment of $53,000, fundraisers, building rentals, and other donations. 

With our 454 members, two buildings, and nine-member staff team, including the soon-to-be hired Director of Church Music and me, there are many considerations.  

First and foremost, we want to care for one another. That includes welcoming everyone who crosses our threshold and offering diverse opportunities for them to engage with this beloved congregation. It also includes paying our (amazing) staff team for the actual time that they work and doing so with fair wages. The UUA helps tremendously with this providing research on comparable job markets, the cost of living in different geographic reasons and the skills and demands associated with staffing and ministering various sized congregations. The assimilated data from the UUA’s work offers us clear guidelines on job titles, scope of work, and salary. 

We need money to care for our campus, to heat and take care of our buildings, to provide high-quality training for our volunteers in the religious education programs, and to invest in the technology, sound system, and other infrastructure for this organization. 

In preparing to talk about my vision for our congregation, I went back and reread the material that I put together for the Search Committee. I was astounded at what I read.

Let me share some of this, as it will help you get to know me better and reaffirm the fit in this shared ministry that we are creating together. Remember, I did not write this for you, although it sounds like I did. I wrote it as my vision, and then we found each other. 

…It is time for me to go home and settle in for a long and committed shared ministry with the right congregation.

My vision of ministry is one where I partner with, and minister to, a committed and vibrant faith community during these complex times. My goal is to strengthen or foster a congregational culture that is deeply committed to personal and societal renewal and that holds transformative worship as its glowing center. I thrive in a ministry with a congregation of people who are genuine and caring. My ideal ministry will be shared with a congregation that is bold in its vision and willing to take risks. This congregation values personal relationships and has a healthy understanding of systems. It embraces change as inevitable and at the same time values ritual and tradition. This beloved community welcomes all people. Everyone is encouraged to grow into their best and most authentic self. 

The congregation’s largeness is demonstrated by its warmth, commitment to one another, mission and vision and likely the number of members. Membership numbers alone, however, do not make a congregation large. It enjoys learning and shares what it learns freely with other congregations. It seeks to inspire and be inspired and partners with others. 

As a dedicated congregation of Unitarian Universalists, we will do our best to live into our UU principles while seeing the beauty in our shared humanness. We will not expect perfection; rather we will live together authentically. We will laugh, love and rejoice together. We will be honest with each other and trust each other deeply. We will honor our faith tradition by remembering and continuing its heritage. Even more, we will embolden our faith tradition by being connected, partnering with and living in solidarity with the world beyond our walls. We will understand and embrace diversity, by welcoming all people and by working on changing our own biases and blind spots. 

When people think of us they will say, “Oh, yes! That’s the congregation where everyone wants to be. They are fun, passionate and authentic. They know how to laugh and be serious. They put on beautiful services on Sundays and for other holidays, weddings, children dedications and memorial services. They are a critical part of our community. I’m so glad that they are here.

I’ll share a few more segments of the larger document. 

With a strong background as a lay leader in two UU congregations, I understand that being a lay leader has the potential to be both transformative and exhausting. I have tremendous respect and appreciation for the role of lay leaders in congregational life. I understand all volunteer roles in a congregation to be important as leadership takes many forms. 

I aspire to engage volunteers in a way that is life affirming rather than draining. There are times in everyone’s life where one needs to be more or less involved. It is critical that we honor this and invest time and energy that serves volunteers’ spiritual, physical and emotional needs while avoiding the pitfall of connecting with congregants only in terms of how they may help the congregation. 

“As the minister, I see my job as providing spiritual and practical guidance to provide a grounded, non-anxious presence and to ensure that all voices are heard and that our covenant, mission and vision are kept at the forefront of our work together.”

The work of the staff is to further the mission and vision of the congregation: its ministries, programs, public presence and community involvement. Each staff person brings a unique perspective and set of skills and life experiences to their work that needs to be honored. As the minister, I understand my role to be the mentor and supervisor of the staff. Equally important, I consider staff to be peers and strive to create a team atmosphere based on mutual respect.

 Lifespan Religious Education…is integral and inseparable from the culture of the congregation. There are increasingly fewer places in our society that are genuinely multigenerational. Our faith can offer that community to people in meaningful ways.

And in conclusion:

I am committed to be a visible and appropriately vocal presence for UUism and for liberal religion. Responding to the needs within our congregation are essential; however, ensuring that we are good partners in the larger community is also critical. I view this as more than social justice work. It is spiritual work that has the potential to transform the lives of all who are involved. Now more than ever, it is essential that we be a part of the solution and work together with community partners in creating the world we believe in as Unitarian Universalists.

It sounds a lot like us, doesn’t it? In fact, it is us, and I call that a miracle. 

This morning we welcomed our newest members into this community. Every time that we do that, we not only welcome them, we affirm our commitment, our belonging, to this beloved community. 

Whoever you are, you belong here. If you are here, you belong. If you feel that you don’t or that any part of you is less than acceptable, talk with someone, me or another person you trust. Tell us your truth, and let us reassure you how welcome you are here. 

In my wildest of dreams, my church would be called the church of All Sinners and Saints. However, that might be too radical a change for us, and besides, the name is already taken. 

What I really mean is that this church is a house of love. It is a place of welcoming, full of imperfect, messed-up, beautiful seekers and sages. Here we learn together, we grow together, we heal together. We show up. We laugh. We cry.  We expand our understanding of ourselves, the divine, and the world about us. 

Next week you will be asked to make your financial commitment to this beloved community. You need not be a member to pledge. We are fiscally responsible, so we will pass a budget that is backed by the committed pledges we have. 

You will also be asked to offer your wishes for FRS. We are doing this at the same time because here what you feel and what you dream are as important as what you can offer. No one is more than or less than because of any financial gift. 

If we could run this place on good will alone, we would do it. But we can’t.

Bart and I considered our gift carefully. I thought of what we were asking you and did the same. After all, how can a leader ask for something that she is unwilling to give? 

I hope that you consider well and with some intentionality what you can pledge. It matters. You matter. Really you do. 

Amen and May It be So.