Rev. Ann C. Fox
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Unitarian
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Society of Fairhaven
New Insights and Perspectives
A post-sabbatical sermon by Rev. Ann C. Fox
May 4, 2008
Note: A short reading is attached, which you might like to read first
Long ago, I took a trip to Italy on Cosmos bus tours and saw 12 cities in 8 days. I hardly remember a thing about it, except for how awfully hot it was. You see, I was a tourist, not a traveler. As we heard in the reading, a tourist aims to see places and things. A traveler hopes to experience whatever the place has to offer.
The first place in which I was a traveler many years ago was to India where I stayed for two months. The country, the culture, the cuisine, and the people left me with so many memories that I have savored my whole life. I was changed by that experience. It broadened my perspective and enriched my life.
As many of you know, I have been on sabbatical for the last four months. Five weeks of that time Leo and I went to New Zealand. I chose New Zealand because Leo loved the country, having spent five years working there as a youth. He shared with me the beauty of the place and the many relationships he had formed. I knew there were four Unitarian Universalist churches there and I thought it would be interesting to visit them. I wanted a theme for the sabbatical and chose “peacemaking” since this is the issue our denomination has asked us to work on and it has always been a passion of mine. I decided to be a Peace Pilgrim of sorts, which turned out to be more of a goodwill ambassador from our UU churches to New Zealand Unitarians. Leo and I wore tee-shirts emblazoned with “A Peace Pilgrim” on them and we hoped New Zealanders would ask use about the slogan. Some did and to them we gave out our peace pilgrim cards that said on one side why I was in New Zealand and where I would be speaking; on the other side were many statements about peace from peacemakers around the world, including Jesus, the Buddha, Gandhi, and so on.
I told you in our newsletter that I contacted our churches there and asked to preach for them on a Sunday in exchange for a few days shelter. The churches were so very happy to accept this invitation.
We arrived in Auckland a few days before I was due to preach on Sunday, January 20, 2008. A member of the Auckland Unitarian congregation picked us up from the airport and took us to our backpacker lodge. It had been a 23-hour journey so we slept well that night. We spent the next few days walking all over Auckland and going to its museums and experiencing the New Zealand accents in all those we encountered (and sometimes having a hard time understanding what was being said). Leo couldn’t believe how the city had changed in 50-odd years from the black and white print of it he carried with him. He also couldn’t believe how cosmopolitan it had become. It seemed that all the world’s people are represented there; it was like being in New York City. When he called one of the people he had known she said, “Who? Leo Brautigam? I thought you were dead!” (The Dutch are a bit blunt!) Our first insight was: Call your friends more often!
When we went to a coffee shop, we noticed that we couldn’t get a regular cup of coffee. They were all like in Europe: espresso and lattes and the like. Espressos were called “short black” for a very small shot of coffee and “long black” for 2-1/2 shots. One kind fellow, seeing our confusion, advised us to order the “long black” and ask for milk on the side. We also had to ask for extra water for we just couldn’t drink the strong coffee, which was delicious when watered down a wee bit.
Another practical learning we had was that an entrée was actually an appetizer. Supermarket food is more expensive than ours and so is food in the restaurants—much more expensive. However, we soon realized that people who gather, cook, and serve food actually earn a living wage so we felt good that we were helping to support them adequately.
We read in the newspaper that Sir Edmund Hillary had died. You might remember that he was the first man to climb Mount Everest, which was a bit news item in my childhood. We were to find out that the whole nation would mourn his passing for they considered him a great national hero. On Sunday at the Unitarian church, someone lit a candle for his life and spoke eloquently about how he felt about Sir Edmund. I later found out that the person who lit the candle was an American ex-patriot by the name of Peter Roy from New Bedford! He had been a member of the New Bedford church. It’s a small world. I asked each congregation to afterwards tell me why they thought that their country is one of the most peace-loving in the world. One man said that he thought it was because they had no enemies; another responded, “Yes, but we also have no friends.” And they both laughed.
Leo was so happy to meet two members who were Dutch. Half the congregation (about 15 people) came to lunch with us. That afternoon, we were to go to Waiheke Island to stay for a week at a member’s house while she was away. (We never met her. Arrangements were all by email.) It is rather like Martha’s Vineyard, a 45-minute ferry ride from Auckland. We were so glad of this time and the opportunity to watch New Zealand television, especially Sir Edmund Hillary’s funeral that was planned for the following Tuesday.
Waiheke is an island of steep hills, spectacular valleys, and welcoming beaches. We walked miles every day but on the day of Sir Edmund’s funeral, we watched the whole thing. It was much like Princess Diana’s with fabulous music and interfaith prayers. Many people spoke, including dignitaries from Nepal who told of the schools and bridges and medical clinics that Sir Edmund had built for them and that his good works would surely affect his future lifetimes. (I wondered what the bedecked bishops thought of that!) Helen Clark, the third term Labor prime minister, spoke fondly of him. His life unfolded before us through the eyes of his son, daughter, friends, and admirers. At the end, as the casket was put back into the hearse, pupils from a Maori school that bore his name danced and sang a haka for the passage of a great warrior from this life to the next. It was all very moving indeed. All of this was in spite of the nation being so angry about what became known as The Royal Snub for Buckingham Palace would not send any of the royal family. One person emailed to the newsroom, “We should replace Queen’s Day with Sir Edmund Hillary Day!” my insight is to understand how much national heroes help us to mine our own values and honor them in others.
New Zealand television has 50% American programs, some British, some Australian, and some of its own. We also enjoyed watching the Maori Station in the Maori language and which sometimes had subtitles; and Leo found a Dutch program. (There are two official languages in New Zealand: English and Maori.) Interestingly, the Al Jazeera news program, coming out of the United Arab Emirates is a CNN look-alike with excellent reporting on all the world, including the Arab world.
We met an artist at a bus stop. He showed us his paintings, shared some stories of his life, and lamented the high prices of homes now that the rich are building mansions or buying up little houses and building huge monstrosities. We got on the bus together and continued chatting. We asked him if there was a good restaurant on the bus route and he and the driver looked at one another and laughed. But they said we could go to the end of the line and find a restaurant on the beach. The driver was interested in our impressions of Waiheke and was an all around sweet and pleasant fellow. We must have missed the last bus home (at 7:30 pm). The same bus driver came by on his way to the bus depot. We were walking up a steep hill still five miles from home. He told us he’ll wash up at the Depot and drive us home. Although we had walked another mile, we heard a car horn behind us. We were so tired and grateful as we had walked the entire day. As we got out of his car, he asked why we were on Waiheke. We told him of being Peace Pilgrims and I asked him if he’d like my card. He said, “Yes, but I don’t think you will be very successful because this world is already like Sodom and Gomorrah. Armageddon will come any day now.” He whispered blessings to us. As he drove off, we sent him blessings as well and to have more hope, too. I had not remembered the doomsday part of our encounter with him until I read my journal. My insight is to remember what is good and perhaps to send love for help with his or her struggles.
One day, we got on a bus and an elderly lady said, “Now young lady, you come and sit right here and tell me what A Peace Pilgrim means.” I shared with her briefly and gave her my card and she shared with me that she had been a “peace-worker” in the 1980’s to stop nuclear proliferation and she had been to America and the U.K. to peace gatherings. She wanted me to keep in touch with her. I have her address.
After preaching a second Sunday in the Auckland church, we began our journey to Wellington, doing some touristy things enroute. We witnessed from our bus spectacular scenes of pine-clad mountains. The roads are so very narrow that it was harrowing to look down into the canyons. This is surely the Switzerland of the Southern Hemisphere. It is easy to imagine how volcanoes must have exploded here millennia ago. The bus stopped at many small towns. At one stop, a young Maori woman got on. Her hair was braided simply, in two pigtails, and on her chin was a blue tattoo. It was hard not to stare at her loveliness. We were entering Maori country.
One two-day stop was in Rotorua, a place where steam rises from the ground in many places and bubbles up into ponds that smell faintly of sulphur. Some motels use the steam for heating their rooms; others have turned their ponds into natural Jacuzzis for their guests. (Of course, the water is so hot that cold water must be added.) There is a large public park that is full of such ponds with attractive fences around them. We went to a public baths to soak in several pools. There were visitors there from many countries, including Japan. It was so loverly!
In the evening, we were honored to be picked up at our lodge by an attractive Maori woman named Tui from the Mitai family. You heard me tell the children of the wonderful cultural center the tribe (called an Iwi) has created from the land the government has granted back to them. Many Maori have suffered greatly from alcohol addiction and from domestic violence. I was struck by a large sign outside the Police Station in the center of the city. It said, “Domestic Violence is not okay. It is NOT okay.” How would it be for us to have such signs in the center of our towns and cities?
Our next major stop was Wellington. We spent two incredibly interesting days with a member of the Wellington congregation, Sharon Ren. She is an American who had immigrated to New Zealand three years before at the urging of her teen-age daughter who wanted to get away from the violence of her native America. On Sunday, February 3, I preached for the Wellington Fellowship. Seventeen people showed up, which was the most in 5 years! Yvonne Chisholme, the organizer of the Fellowship, was overjoyed and wished she’d printed more Orders of Service. This group had a lively and humorous. We sat in a circle and we voted on whether to stand up for hymns! They are a deeply thoughtful group. Yvonne gave us a personal tour of Wellington, a most windy city, whose hills are even higher than Auckland’s. This is the seat of New Zealand’s government that meets in a building called The Beehive, because it is shaped like a bee’s nest! I think this is a symbol of New Zealand good humor!
We crossed over the channel by ferry between the North and South Island and toured around a few days until we were due at the Christchurch congregation. The Reverend Derek McCullough and his lovely wife, Rebekah, met us at the train station. They live high up in the hills (of course) of Christchurch. Derek’s house is built to conserve as much energy as possible. Every drop of water that comes out of the house is recycled and used for the landscape, which he has turned into a micro-mini farm on the down-slope that is the back garden. Wonderful salads and vegetables found their way on our lunch and dinner plate. Derek’s congregation also meets in rented room. They carry all the Sunday services things back and fourth three times a month. The whole congregation turned up—about 33 of them, including us! Again, they are a lively and steadfast group. Afterwards, many wanted to share about their work in the anti-nuclear movement of the 1980’s.
On Sunday afternoon, we accompanied Derek and Rebekah to see the Windmill that the church musician’s company had installed on a very high hill outside Wellington. We actually climbed to the summit of the hill and had a presentation on the merits of windmill energy and the superiority of this particular one. His attendance was Derek’s way of celebrating the young engineer’s achievement.
I noticed that Derek had a tattoo peeping out of his short-sleeved shirt and when Rebecca had on a short summer skirt I noticed that she had a similar tattoo. So I had to ask about them and we got a good look at them. The tattoos were done by south sea island people in honor of Rebekah’s work amongst them. Rebekah is a social worker. Their home is filled with the artwork of south-sea islanders, who are the groups from which the Maoris sprang. Derek is a volunteer minister for the Christchurch congregation, where he preaches twice a month and once a month and once a month for the Blenheim congregation, a 2-1/2 hour drive north. They pay his expenses. I don’t have time to tell you about the Blenheim congregation, but they were the crowning glory, perhaps because of the incredible warmth and generosity of their leaders, especially Frank and June Cartwright, who housed and fed us for four days. (I have offered to “exchange pulpits” with Derek for a month or so for I think you will enjoy his ministry immensely.)
All four congregations are characterized by their steadfast commitment to their Unitarian faith (although Rev. Derek McCullough is careful to say Unitarian Universalist faith).
We have seen so many beautiful places and met so many wonderful people—Unitarians as well as New Zealanders at large. Two-thirds of my journal is filled with these experiences. For me, my most important insights are that our religion is alive and well in a small but significant way in New Zealand and their values and love of religious freedom are just as dearly held as ours. I believe that relationships across nations are the foundational building blocks for peace and that nurturing good relationships amongst ourselves will give us the greatest happiness.
Another of the important insights is that this congregation is the most generous of all in sending me on a sabbatical that has, I believe, enriched my ministry and my life, our life, Leo’s and mine. In the coming weeks and months, I will unfold more to you of what I’ve discovered. May you be travelers in places near or far and may you, too, enrich your lives.
Reading: “On
Travel” from Simple Truths
by Kent Nerburn
Wanderlust, the urge for adventure, the desire to know what is over the next hill, are like echoes in the back of our minds that speak of sounds not quite heard and places not quite seen.
You should listen to these echoes. Take the chances and follow the voices that call you to distant places. Live, if only for a short time, the life of a traveler. It is a life you will always cherish and never forget.
The magic of travel is that you leave your home secure in your own knowledge and identity, but as you travel, the world in all its richness intervenes. You meet people you could not invent; you see scenes you could not imagine. Your own world, which was so large as to consume your whole life, becomes smaller and smaller until it is only one tiny dot in space and time. You return a different person.
Travel doesn’t have to be to some dreamlike and foreign destination. It can take you on an evening stroll through a distant forest or to a park bench in a town a hundred miles from your home. What matters is that you have left the comfort of the familiar and opened yourself to a world that is totally apart from your own.
Many people don’t want to be travelers. They would rather be tourists, flitting over the surface of other people’s lives while never really leaving their own….
To be a real traveler, you must be willing to give yourself over to the moment and take yourself out of the center of your universe. You must believe totally in the lives of the people and the places where you find yourself….
Take the chances a traveler has to take. In the end, you will be so much richer, so much stronger, so much clearer, so much happier, and so much a better person that all the risk and hardship will seem like nothing compared to the knowledge and wisdom you have gained.
© The Rev. Ann C. Fox