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Homily of Rev. Chris Buice

August 13, 2008

August 3, 2008
Rededication of Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Sanctuary

There are many names for the power of healing, and we have felt that power in this congregation this week. This has been a time of paradoxes. Last Sunday a man walked into this sanctuary with the intention of inflicting terror, and he inspired quick and decisive acts of courage. Reports tell us that he believed that liberals were soft on terror. He had a rude discovery!

He came into this space with a desire to do an act of hatred, but he has unleashed unspeakable amounts of love.

A man tried to strike a blow for intolerance, and by so doing he inspired a gathering Monday night in the Second Presbyterian Church, and many other holy places throughout the week, a gathering of Christians and Jews, Muslims and Buddhists, believers and unbelievers, crowded in the aisles, sitting on the stage, standing outside in the rain, holding hugging, and helping each other to heal.

A man tried to divide us, divide us into liberals and conservatives, gay and straight; instead his actions united us, making us more willing to listen to each other, care for each other, respect each other, support each other, and—let’s be honest—feed each other {Laughter and applause}—feeding each other in body and spirit. He came into this space to inflict death; and he took away the lives of two precious people, wounded six others, traumatized the rest of us, traumatized our community and the world. But strangely, at the same time, reminding us of the preciousness of our children, the sacredness of life, and at this moment in time the true value of friendship and family, and how much we need good neighbors. (Audience: “Amen,” minister: “Amen”)

A man sought to shatter this particular church community and instead inspired an unprecedented reunion of people committed to protecting this beloved community and preserving it for future generations. A man sought to isolate us and alienate us, but our community surrounded us with love. They said, “Don’t shut us out. Let us in.” And we did, and we have been enriched by that experience. (Applause)

Thank you everyone out there. I can’t even begin to name everyone we want to thank.

I want to raise to you something that gives me hope in this particular time, in this particularly difficult time. The stole I am wearing is a gift that was given to me by a friend from the church. (Removes stole and folds to show design.) It has an image on it that will be familiar to most of us. It is a Celtic cross. It reminds us on this day, I think, that this is not just a symbol for one religious tradition, but I think it is a symbol that could speak to all religious traditions. The cross in the foreground and the rising sun in the background; violence in the foreground, hope in the background; reminding us that behind the suffering of today there is the sunrise of tomorrow. And so I drape this stole across this pulpit. (Minister does so.) The person who gave this to me said this belonged to her father who was a Presbyterian minister who was a good man, and she wanted to give it to another good man, and so I place it on this pulpit of a good congregation to remind us that we are all Presbyterian today. (applause) We are all Baptist. We are all Jewish and Muslim (applause). We are the young. (standing ovation)

Wait—I’m not done.

We are all the young people of the United Church of Christ who painted the rock at the UT campus in support of us. We are all rationalists. We are all Quakers; We are all Baha’i. We are all liberals. We are all conservatives. (Applause)

A baseball cap is a fitting symbol of Tennessee. This baseball cap has the Tennessee flag, which we do now reclaim for that kind of inclusive love that we have experienced today, yesterday, and all week long. (Continuous cheering, standing ovation.) On the front of this cap are the words ”Knoxville Tennessee,” with the flowing waters of the Tennessee River and the sunrise over the Smoky Mountains, reminding us that everyone in this city is a member of the cast of Annie. And we are united as a community saying, “The sun will come out tomorrow.”

But our community is part of a larger world community and we have many names for trying to describe that world community, and we are all of them today. We are God’s children: red, yellow, black and white, gay and straight. We are all human, members of the human family, sharing one earth, sharing one common home. We are tied together, we are woven together, we are bound together in more ways that we can ever really know.

“We are one.”

(Congregation sings hymn, ending, “In the Circle of Song we are one.” Clergy and others on stage move to right back side of sanctuary where the shooter had stood, for Closing Words by Rev. Buice:)

God of many names,
Known in the spoken word,
Known most profoundly in the unspoken silence,
In you we say these simple words:
“We reclaim our sanctuary.”

This sanctuary that has been defiled by violence,
we rededicate to peace.
This holy place which has been desecrated by an act of hatred,
we re-consecrate for love.

This sacred space which has seen death,
we recommit to life.
This holy spiritual home which has known fear,
we rededicate to the faith of the free.

Last updated on Friday, September 12, 2008.