TRY RELIGION
Reverend Rudolph Nemser
November 14, 1999
 

Brad Greeley is kin - distant cousin he says-
    to Horace Greeley
the Universalist whose newspaper, The Tribune,
    was the leading newspaper of the XIX Century America,
Since Brad is kin, and kin never lie,
I assume what he writes about Horace
    is unvarnished and repeatable,

A New Hampshire man,
    Horace was born in 1811 of impoverished parents.
He received almost no formal education
    and at fourteen was apprenticed in a print shop in nearby Vermont,
The paper at which he was working soon folded.
With neither funds nor a destination,
    Horace concluded his future lay in New York City.

There he developed and honed his remarkable editorial skills
    while learning little of the founding and managing
    of newspapers.
The first two of his efforts: Log Cabin and The New Yorker
    although acclaimed literary successes,
        failed to turn a profit.

Before he turned thirty, however, he founded The Tribune.
Brad notes that what Horace lacked in business acumen
    he made up for in his openness to new ideas.
He entertained and printed all sides of controversial issues.
He had a remarkable tolerance for paradox.
A prominent Universalist layman,
    Brad writes that Horace was "outspoken, rigid and radical",
strongly opposed to divorce, slavery and alcohol.
He opposed women's suffrage, yet he went to lengths
    to provide employment for working women.

Greeley published socialist doctrines,
helped found the Republican Party,
supported Lincoln's nomination
and, during a brief term in Congress,
exposed the abuse of mileage allowances by his fellow congressmen
which practice did not endear him to his colleagues.
He vociferously supported the Union position in the Civil War
yet later signed the bail bond
    for Confederate ex-president Jefferson Davis.

Horace Greely ran for president of the country and lost.
A confirmed New Yorker,
    he advised adventurous young men to "Go West".

The story is told by Earl Wolf
in his book My God and God
of the occasion when a young woman
whose church was in distressing financial straits
wrote Greeley. They had tried, she said,

    fairs, strawberry festivals, oyster suppers,
    box socials, mock weddings, grab-bags
to no avail.

Now in desperation she is appealing to the worldly Horace Greeley
        for advice:

    Would Mr. Greely be so good as to suggest some new device
    to keep the struggling church from disbanding?

Greeley responds with two words -

        Try religion

I suspect almost any of us would be hard-pressed
to think of a church or synagogue
whose financial existence
does not depend upon fairs and strawberry festivals
    and oyster suppers.
Such events and their contemporary equivalents
are the very heart of religious budget-balancing.
The hours upon hours required
for just one more rummage sale .. this year.

The young woman spoke truth:
grab-bags and lawn fetes ae the wherewithal
            of religious institutional survival.
The young woman was right.

And so was Horace Greeley.
Churches and synagogues rarely
            - very rarely -
try religion when they engage in financial matters.

What would it look like
if religious communities and institutions
    tried religion as a means of survival?

Let me tell you about Arthur Turner.
True story,
Arthur turner lives in the New England town
    for five generations.
By the time I knew him, he was in his late eighties.
He'd been a member the Unitarian Church
    longer than anyone could remember.

He was a farmer
who scratched his living
    from the hard New England soil.

The Unitarian Church, which stood on the town common,
in good Unitarian Universalist fashion
one night caught fire.
In a twinkling, the century-old building
    dry as tinder
burned and was gone.

Efforts to rebuild
were soon undertaken.
The leadership of the church,
    -young stockbrokers and bankers
    who commuted to Boston -
just naturally took to organizing
    a capital campaign.
More grandiose and ambitious
than anything that had happened
since the combination grange hall and fire house
    had been built twenty years earlier.
The canvass goal was astronomical.

The campaign was just getting underway
when, one Tuesday morning,
there was a knock on the door of the parsonage study.

The minister hastily stuffed the crossword puzzle
    into the desk drawer,
straightened his hair,
and went to welcome the visitor.

there stood Arthur Turner
twisting his cap in thick and hardened hands.

Invited, he sat.

I've been thinking about this new building of ours.
Years ago when Doris and I first had children
we started putting money aside
for a time - good or ill -
when we might need a sum of money.
We took some money from the fund
    when Maud decided to go to medical school.
Only important times and happenings.

Well, he continued, Doris is gone,
but I've still kept putting money aside.
you never know, is what I thought.

I figure rebuilding my church
is a pretty important need
    for me and for my family.
So I've decided I'd like in Doris's name and my own
to give $50,000 to the rebuilding fund.
Can't think of a better use of the money.

Arthur Turner wasn't the wealthiest person in town.
Nor was he the fifth
    nor even the tenth wealthiest member
        of that congregation.

He didn't give the $50,000 because he had money.
He gave the $50,000 because he had religion.

That, I believe, is what Horace Greeley was talking about.
Not ice cream socials
but living by our values.

Stephen Gray,
a Congregational minister
    who helps congregations raise money,
tells of a ten minute education on economics
he was given when he was serving his first church.
A retired minister
introduced Gray to what he called 'the 10-80-10 rule.'
He advised the young man
    to follow the rule through good times and hard,
Each individual
    should put 10% of income into savings;
    10% into charitable causes (church included)
and live on the remaining 80%

Simple formula? Easily done?

Here's the fact:

    The baby boomer generation gives away less than two percent,
    saves less than three percent
    and, some economists estimate,
        lives on one hundred two percent of their income.

I repeat: best judgment is that the 10-80-1- formula
would not only enhance the lives of those who practice it,
    but would improve the world.

Try religion.
Live by our values.
Finance your convictions.

There is another phrase current in the church fund-raising circles
            I'd commend to you.
I like it because it hits me hard.

Wednesday evening,
Ken Slight my friendly canvasser
    came to visit.
As always he was affable,
generous with his commitment.
And I like to spend time with him,

But he really didn't need to come
because I had already
    done his work for him.

I have always tried to adhere to the classic canvass guideline
I was taught many years ago:
    Give until it hurts.
That works fairly well, at least as far as the donor is concerned.
Giving under these conditions is never really uncomfortable;
    never forces a painful choice.

But that's not what Arthur Turner did.

So, as I told Ken,
instead of asking how little I can get away with
and still feel that I'm doing enough
    and Ken will still like me:
I asked another question:
    How much shall I give
        that will make me feel good?

There it is:
Give until you feel good.

This approach to giving may cost you some money
but you'll feel a lot better
    about the church
    and about yourself,

This year, because of by strong belief
in the importance of completing Building our Dream well
while supporting the operating budget adequately,
I shall be contributing around eighteen percent of my income.
Most of the church, but not all.
Very intentional
because all the causes to which I give
carry out my values,
    they work for what I believe.
In this sense, they are an extension of myself -
                    my better self:
    The Philadelphia Museum of Art, ACLU, the Philadelphia Orchestra,
        Planned Parenthood, Southern Poverty Law Center,
        The Nature Conservancy.

I give to them and I feel a lot better.
    Not because I am a clergyperson,
    but because I am supporting what I believe.

In this sense, of course,
I make no distinction
between the church's capital and operating campaigns.
We need them both.
Can't build the building and open the doors without the two of them.

How do you know what to give?
Give until if feels good.

Or, you might use another guideline.
There will be three steps
    leading to the porch
        before the front door that leads into the new building.
Imagine yourself going up those three steps,
crossing the porch
and entering the completed structure for the first time.

Now, at the precise moment
and in view of your personal circumstances
    and what is important to you
How much would you have to have given
to feel you had done your part?
So you could walk through the door
            - your door -
knowing you'd left your mark
    on one of the most beautiful buildings in all of south jersey?
So you'd feel very good.

That's what happens when we try religion.

Authorities who know such matters
    confirm what simple observation informs:
by now many of you have slouched down in your seat,
pulled your jacket a little closer,
and mumbled under your breath;
Why is it all they ever talk about around here is money?

There is a biblical answer
    and an ecclesiastical response

Bible:

Did you know:
    one eighth of the entire Old and New Testament writings
        deal with money and how we use our possessions;
    three of the Ten Commandments talk of the relationship
        between faith and possessions
            and how we should use our money and goods;
    of Jesus' 38 parables,
            16 deal with the relationship
                between what you say you believe
                    and how you use your money and possessions?
Stephen Gray actually counted and made the tabulations.

Anyway, that's the biblical reason we talk about money.
Its in the Bible.
Gray says your relation to your money and possessions
    is the number two topic of Jesus' discourses.
Can we speak of these matters less than the Bible?

The ecclesiastical response:

We talk a lot around here about money,
    because money makes possible
the work of the church.
It is because of its work
    that we have and maintain our church.
And that takes money.

We talk about money -
and we will continue to talk about money.

We will continue to talk about money
    so long as there are people in Camden who need homes.

We'll talk about money
    so long as gays, lesbians, bi-sexual and transgender people
        need a religious home where they can feel welcome and safe.

We'll talk about money
    so long as the eighth grade graduates in Szekelyderzs
    are unable to afford a high school education.

We'll talk about money
    as long as community groups who share our values
        are unable to rent or to afford to rent other facilities.

We'll talk about money
    as long as there are inter-racial or inter-faith couples
        who want to be married in a spiritual environment
            but have no where else that they are welcome.

We'll talk about money
    as long as we want a church where women and men
                of south Jersey
    can hear and be comforted by the message of the liberal faith.

We'll talk about money
    so long as there are people whose spirits yearn for inspiration
        in a theologically unfettered atmosphere.

We'll talk about money, over and over,
    until all the world is at peace
        and all its people are treated as individuals
            of worth and dignity.

We'll keep talking about money
    for a long, long time.

And we'll be glad we did.