So What Does a Multicultural Church (Physically) Look Like?

As Rev. Jennifer Ryu spoke this morning about the value of being a multicultural church (btw, we are described as being a mono-cultural church, despite our oft-stated desires to be otherwise), I couldn’t help but wonder:  What is the physical appearance of a multicultural church?  Should we be thinking about this as we move forward with our master plan?

I spoke with Rev. Ryu after the service and she said she thought the appearance of our church actually was fairly multicultural and welcoming, with it’s hexagonal shape and banners from multiple spiritual traditions (Oh good, I thought to myself).  She comes from Virginia, where she describes her church as being fairly traditional looking with a ‘New Englandy’ appearance, and I assume traditional pews and pulpit.  (Well, we don’t have that problem, I thought).

She also talked about how when she lived in Baltimore she would regularly walk by the Unitarian Church there and notice all the unusual quotations (from noteworthy Unitarian Universalists) they had posted outside.  They drew her in.

So I’m thinking maybe we should give some thought to modernizing our physical appearance.  We do look a bit ‘dated’, a bit ‘60’ish’ (Come on, you know it’s true…). It’s our home and kind of like comfortable old shoes to us, but if we’re going to the trouble of modernizing and bringing things up to code (in addition to optimizing functional spaces), shouldn’t we be thinking about our public image?  What about more thought-provoking signage at the street?  Or an engaging piece of sculpture?  Or ???

While it’s true that most of us would stay here regardless of our ‘window dressings’, in the interest of long-term vitality and sustainability maybe this is a good time to be thinking about the ‘face’ that we present to the world.

What do you think?

- Barbara Gardner

End of An Era

My mother’s friend, Marjorie Beamish, moved to Florida this week to live with her daughter there. Marjorie’s departure from her modest home in South Land Park marked the end of an era, an era for my mom and her friends, but one emblematic of the change going on at UUSS.

These six friends met at the First Unitarian Church of Sacramento in the late 1950s. That church was at 27^th and N streets. They formed a discussion group, which when I was nine in the mid 70s, I named “the Talkalots.”

The Talkalots were part of the generation that bought the land on Sierra Boulevard, drew the plans, hand-made hexagonal molds for the concrete walls, and built a new church. They raised the money and within a few years paid off the mortgage. They had a party and burned that mortgage document. Joy!

They renamed the First Church as the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento, UUSS, to reflect the merger of the American Unitarian Association and the Universalist Church of America and to reflect the changing times.

Fifty years have passed. That generation, parents to the Baby Boomers, left for those of us who have followed a beautiful campus, unique buildings, and a paid mortgage. I was the only child of the members of the Talkalots young enough to be a member of Gen X, and I have watched as two generations have grown up and into middle age on this campus, using these buildings.

The campus remains beautiful. The creek is a bit more channelized these days, and the oaks are older. The buildings, however, have neared the end of their lives.

Today I find myself on this Master Plan Oversight Committee, helping with the development of a new master plan for this campus and its buildings. There are many steps between the site assessment and a paid mortgage on a new facility that will serve the next two generations. It’s our turn now to imagine and develop this place for the next 50 years.

Carrie Cornwell

My Favorite Thing (so far) About Our Building & Grounds Master Planning….

It’s my turn this week to be on “blog watch” duty for the Oversight Committee.  And, despite initial misgivings about taking on another responsibility, I’m finding I actually enjoy some things about our master planning process.  What??  Are you sure??  Yep!

 A few weeks ago I was being entertained by a very cute little toddler playing with fist-size Lego’s.  He was building, remodeling and tearing down an amazing variety of structures.  Most looked like towers but they had startling appendages jutting out here and there.  When their precarious balance gave way after defying gravity by adding one more block to an already teetering structure, it collapsed to the floor.  What did he do?  Picked up the pieces and started over again.  He was having a wonderful time (me too!) and learning a lot in the process. 

 But I’m really glad that our master planning process isn’t following the time-honored tradition of organizations.  It seems to me that typically they make piecemeal decisions about repairs and remodeling without stepping back to create a long-term strategy.

 My favorite thing, so far, about our building and grounds master planning is that we are taking a thoughtful, step-wise approach.  We’re not rushing to remodel or repair whatever seems most important right now.  Instead, for several years already, we’ve looked at our priorities and how to accomplish them. Building on those conversations, we hired architect Jeff Gold to do a professional site assessment for us.  His report is due soon and will be fundamental to clearly identifying our needs and prioritizing them.  I like the process we’re using and feel confident that we will make good decisions based on this information.

Margaret Wilcox

Six-sided reflection

We on the Oversight Committee are sharing “blog watch” duty, and this week is mine.

This is not a newsy week for our committee, as architect Jeff is doing his work, and the work of UUMPF is quietly at rest, at least from a news perspective. Well, at least from my perspective.

Lacking news to share, I was surprised that my mind turned to a memory created about 35 years ago, from when I joined a group of other college grad-aged folks from the University Lutheran Chapel near UCLA on a do-good mission to Navajo country in northeastern Arizona.  Our job was to take a one-week shift in the construction of a six-sided hogan structure, very much like the one pictured here, a blend of traditional and modern materials, to be used as a Christian worship center on Navajo reservation land.  I remember disturbed emotions and intense, inner ethical conflict as I worked as a Christian missionary of sorts, and came away from that experience not knowing how to process all I’d experienced.  The Navajo people of this community were awash in alcoholism in a large percentage of their male population, the historical consequence of the imposition of a western Christian culture of which I considered myself an enthusiastic part.  I felt the guilt for my forbearers’ contribution to this misery acutely.

Added to my inner turmoil were the words and caring of the Navajo men with whom we worked, including their gratitude for our help in establishing a place for them to rebuild their broken community.  I do not recall a single sign of Christian piety among them, but there was profound and frequent indication of their need to feed their community, together in the high desert, and they drew us into their desire.  The symbols of Christian religion were far less apparent to me on that church building site than were the beer cans and liquor bottles littering the roadside, so I was moved to deep distraction during my week there, finding my ethical center only in their search to restore community.

As we at UUSS move into the future with our own desire for deep community life, I treasure the center we all so explicitly share.  You read the words “communication” in this blogspace often, as something valued so highly that UUSS leadership never seems to tire of studying it!  We persist in seeing how we can tie the disparate corners of our community together, from the far corners of our desert life.  No matter the complexity and difficulty of the planning discussions to come, it is exciting to share this desire with you, to be a People drawn to community at the core of our Being, together.  Thank you all.

-Bill Storm