The Unitarian Universalist Community Church of Santa Monica

The Intern's Turn

May, 2004

Farewell

Despite my appreciation for Hymn #188 (“Come, Come, Whoever You Are”), I am not a “lover of leaving.” I relish forming and maintaining ties of care with people and with places. Even so, on May 23 the nine-month internship with this congregation will have come to an end and I will be leaving. In facing this transition I am filled with a sense of gratitude for ALL those who have helped welcome, inspire, challenge and encourage me over the past nine months. This includes, in small part only, the dedicated UUCCSM staff, the board, our lovely choir, ARGL, sharing the caring, stewardship, Catherine Farmer, the participants in the Covenant Group learning group and the Living with Dying workshop . . . with special thanks to Rev. Judith Meyer and the intern committee: Andy Stewart, Ernie Pipes, Kathy Cook, Charles Haskell, Ren Renshaw, and Beth Rendeiro. My heart is filled with gratitude for the many ways in which the members of this community have shared of themselves and in which they have demonstrated their own commitment to Unitarian Universalist values. This internship experience has served to deepen my sense of relationship and of commitment to learning as “spiritual practice.” It has also clarified my own call to Unitarian Universalist ministry as one that will take place within the rich context of a UU congregation. My hope is that the experience has also brought something of value to you personally, and to you all as a teaching congregation. In the coming weeks I hope to be able to express to each of you my appreciation. If I am unable to do so, please know that I will be thinking of you and holding you in my heart. This congregation is facing some wonderful new opportunities, and I’ll be checking in at www.uusm.org to celebrate your journey. Blessed be.

— Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

March, 2004

As I waited to be chosen for or dismissed from a jury panel a few weeks ago, I was intrigued by the way total strangers began to greet each other, to commiserate, console, share candy and stories. There were so many different stories, so many different perspectives on this one shared experience. (At this writing, I have not yet been selected for the jury panel; I am still in the selection process.)

For some, being on jury duty prompted a feeling of curiosity or even open engagement in the American justice system. There was pride in the ability to participate and to render an important service, as well as deep thought regarding the very nature of justice. The experience was considered by some a welcome opportunity for time off from work, for finishing that novel started last summer, or simply for crossing another obligation off of a long list of things to do this year.

For others, jury duty was less tolerable for various reasons. It brought up negative past experiences or feelings about “the system.” It was also a painful and frustrating reminder of how tightly constructed calendar schedules or budgets are. Since only those jurors suffering “the most severe hardship” are excused, a great many stressed-out people were left squirming in their seats. And so, they turned to each other.

Over the course of several days I noticed that perspectives began changing. Ultimately, many of those who entered this experience convinced that they simply could not make the adjustments necessary to be present to this process discovered that they could. They realized that they were not alone in having conflict. They turned to each other with their concerns, were listened to and treated with respect, discovering within themselves reserves of patience and kindness. Defensiveness and anger gave way to an acceptance of the circumstances, as well as a new experience of themselves and those with whom they were obliged to gather.

I could not help but find in this experience an affirmation of human nature—of our individuality as well as our intense need for each other, and the ways in which we can influence each other’s perspectives. If such transformation could happen in the jury assembly room, how much more could it happen in an intentional gathering? How much more could it happen in a religious community, committed to the unfurling spirit of each member? This is one of the great gifts and mysteries of a people gathered in faith. This is one of the great joys and challenges of church life.

May we each support and celebrate with intention this church and the precious unfurling of spirits. In doing so, may we greet each other with open hearts and minds, sharing our stories with a willingness to shift perspective. Candy is welcome, but optional.

--Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

January, 2004

So What, Exactly are Covenant Groups?

Over 80% of UU congregations have created Covenant Groups in response to an expressed need for greater intimacy and opportunity for experiencing themselves and one other as spiritual beings. Covenant Groups are a grassroots phenomenon, based upon a shared belief in interconnectivity and an intentional approach to relationship. The name “Covenant Group” reinforces the ideal of non-creedal active engagement through the promise, or covenant, we make with each other as religious beings.

Covenant Groups are not therapy groups and they are not the same as study or affinity groups. They do not replace any other existing small groups in the church.They are structured with a focus on intentional relations, being inclusive, a respect for diversity, empowerment, service, and personal and congregational growth.

The underlying belief is that we each bring something unique to the dynamic – thus, the group is reformed anew each time a new member joins or someone leaves. This brings awareness of value to each relationship, including those outside the context of the existing group. Individuals are encouraged to view these groups as an opportunity to widen understanding of interconnectivity and to challenge the tendency to form and maintain exclusive circles. Congregations with active Covenant Groups report a rise in membership, pledging, volunteering, lay leadership, and commitment to diversity.

Covenant Groups consist of up to 12 individuals, including a trained facilitator and a facilitator trainee. Once formed, each group determines the date, time, and neutral location of its meetings; the duration of the group’s existence (six weeks? six months?); and one service project to be completed during that time. It also determines the specifics of its own covenant, which reflects the goals, needs and aspirations of its members for spiritual growth. The structure of the meeting (including the training/role of facilitators and the relationship of the group to the minister and the church) should follow the recommended guidelines in order to assure sustainability.

While the focus topic will vary from group to group, the format of the meetings will always be the same:

• Opening Reading – from a UU source
• Opening Check-in
• Focus/Purpose of Meeting – depends upon the decision of the group, but must be consistent with the principles and purposes and the mission of the sponsoring congregation. The focus should be more on personal sharing than on debating or teaching. (This time may also include planning for the required service project.)
• Closing Check-out
• Closing Reading – from a UU source

Facilitators will be recruited and trained, and will meet monthly with the Rev. Judith Meyer. This spring ARGL will offer a workshop to explore and experience specifically the ways Covenant Groups are grounded in Unitarian Universalist history and theology, and how they actually work. After this series, facilitator training will begin and UUCCSM will be well on its way to sharing this powerful UU experience. Please contact Ministerial Intern Stefanie Etzbach-Dale or call (310) 452-9610 for more information. The following are great additional resources: http://www.swuuc.org/covenantgroups; http://www.smallgroupministry.net; http://www.theccv.org; http://www.uua.org, and Robert L. Hill’s book, “Small Group Ministry.”

— Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

December, 2003

Life is a complicated and unpredictable endeavor. There are hundreds of decisions to make each day, hundreds of responsibilities and ways in which we can choose to prioritize and respond to them. One choice may be to relegate some responsibility to “professionals.” Despite the financial trade-off, this may be a reasonable solution when the responsibility is one involving household tasks or car maintenance. But what about when the responsibility is directly connected to our identity as religious beings within a community?

I have had the privilege of stepping into this religious to the many ways in which this congregation lives out its commitment to individual worth and to community life. I’ve noticed commitment applied to religious inquiry, to worship, musical offerings, religious education, internal organization and social outreach. I’ve witnessed the vulnerability and courage of individuals sharing their joys and sorrows publicly or privately, as well as the compassion of those responding to what they’ve heard. All of these efforts and contributions are choices and they are vital acts of caring.

I’ve also noticed that the members of the Caring Network, those who have organized together within this congregation for the purpose of noticing and responding to need, are themselves in need. The fact that the group has grown too small to be effective has practical implications, but it also has religious ones. These have to do with the ways in which our choices reflect our deepest values and priorities.

What message are we sending when we allow our Caring Network to struggle with the delegated task of looking out for those with whom we worship? It is clear that most of us are already juggling a hundred responsibilities and trying to figure out how to simplify our lives. But when simplifying means delegating care of those in our midst, we each lose out.

Caring is a deeply religious issue. In response to it, the members of the Caring Network have changed their name to “Sharing the Caring.” This is an invitation not only to join this committee in its efforts, but to think about the choices that we each make and how we might more fully share not only the joys of this community, but the sorrows as well.

Doing so may not alleviate how complicated or unpredictable life feels, but it will assure that we each continue to grow in our understanding of what it means to be religious beings in community. It just may also provide crucial assistance to those with whom we share our worship life.

-- Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

November, 2003

Each Sunday the Rev. Judith Meyer reminds us of James Luther Adams’ words that “church is where we practice what it means to be human.” We do this by joining in worship, in fellowship, in actions of justice, and in courageous explorations of our faith journeys.

Another way of enriching our understanding of what it means to be human, and our support of that process, is the special relationship of congregation and intern minister. But what does that relationship really mean, and what does it consist of? Simply put, this relationship indicates that a congregation feels it has something of value to share — something that can deeply enhance the personal and professional development of the ministry student. It also shows that there is a strong mutual faith in the transformational quality of shared experiential, relational learning.

On another level, this relationship lives out a faith in and commitment toward the future of the denomination itself. As intern minister, I come prepared to observe, participate, serve, question, reflect, relate and integrate in response to varied professional requirements, as well as in response to my own desire to connect with this community and this faith tradition. A learning/serving agreement is created to plot out specific goals and activities under the supervision of Judith Meyer, and an Intern Committee is formed to help guide and support this process.

Last month the formation of this committee was completed, and I am honored to introduce its members: Charles Haskell, Kathy Cook, Ernie Pipes, Beth Rendeiro, and Ren Renshaw, with Andrew Stewart as chair. We will be meeting monthly to reflect together, to focus on milestones, learning-edges (areas in which we recognize the need for growth/learning), and ways in which best to utilize this time.

With that said, it is my hope that all members of this community recognize how important they are in the congregation/intern minister relationship. If we have not yet spoken, please introduce yourself to me. I look forward to meeting with you and getting to know you.

If you have thoughts, feelings, concerns, or observations you’d like to talk about, please feel free to approach me directly. You may leave a note for me at the church office, or call me at ext. 107. I’m in my office for appointments on Tuesdays and Thursdays in Room A, across the alley.

May we grow in our understanding of what it means to be human, and may that growth bring peace and renewed commitment to this religious community, this denomination, and this world.

— Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

October, 2003

Some years ago I found and purchased at a yard sale a faded canvas print of a Norman Rockwell painting. It was filled with the faces of people of all races, faiths, ages, and both sexes. Each eye was gazing intently and reverently forward or inward, each revealed hand held something: a scroll, child, book, bowl, or string of prayer beads. Across the bottom third of the painting where the words: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Over the years I found myself increasingly riveted by the intensity and diversity of the faces in this painting. Initially I found in them a reminder that I was not alone in this world, as well as a reminder that there are different responses to human religious impulse.

In more recent years I began to wonder why none of the people was facing another. My larger concern, though, was with the words. Even in directing me to acknowledge a responsibility to act intentionally with did not draw me into relationship, into finding out who these others were and what they wanted. In effect, it supported self-centeredness, isolation and division. How would our lives be different if we were committed to active engagement with those who share our than assume or impose our own wisdoms and values – if we could find out what’s needed and create common goals? What would that painting look like?

The act of joining together in that way, of participating in the creation of space for mutual respect, support and growth is actually rooted in our own Unitarian Universalist history. Because we are bound not by creed but by relationship, the ways in which we care for each other and this world are vital. Because we honor the imperative of the individual human journey as embedded in a larger context – we cannot take anything for granted. We recognize that we can help each other in discovering the choices to be made.

There is a growing movement in UU congregations to join together for this purpose in small groups, known as covenant groups. I hope during the coming months to explore with this congregation the idea and practice of covenant groups as a vital part of a UU religious journey. Please contact me via email or leave a note in the church office, if you would like to share in this experience, have questions or comments.

— Stefanie Etzbach-Dale

September, 2003

August has always been a time of fullness for me: the fullest tan, the fullest accumulations of adventure, in some cases even the fullest indulgent boredom. Inevitably the unmistakable signs of an impending east coast autumn came: the disappearance of fireflies, the brittle remnants of cicadas, the urgent calls of birds gathering for journey. When these signs appeared, I reluctantly faced the emptying of summer, stepping into September with a curious eye.

I could anticipate some of what would fill the new season: trees ablaze with color, fattened squirrels stashing acorns for the winter, the need for sweaters. But there was also that excitingly unsettling feeling of the unknown, of an emergent fullness I could NOT anticipate, but simply had to trust.

This year I face the emptying of summer and the expanse of a new season in a new city, a new time zone, a new climate. I watch with a curious eye for the signs of summer emptying and for the signs of a new season, filled with that excitingly unsettling feeling of the unknown.

I remember the story told of a Buddhist apprentice monk, owning only his robe and a wooden bowl. Each day he set out anticipating the rice that might fill his bowl, gratefully receiving it when it came, eating mindfully, then carefully covering with a leaf some small amount, so that he might still be assured a meal the next day if no one offered to fill it.

Each evening his teacher insisted that the bowl be washed clean and the apprentice monk grew increasingly inventive in hiding the bowl and its salvaged contents from his teacher. One evening, after many such months, the teacher pulled his own clean bowl out from beneath his robe and whispered into the night sky, “It is only when the bowl is empty that it can be filled and shared.” The apprentice then understood.

As I enter September and a relationship with this congregation, I bring with me a fullness of experiences and memories of other places and past seasons. At the same time I bring an appetite, an empty bowl held aloft with gratitude for the anticipated and the yet-unknown offerings of this new place and this new season.

It is an excitingly unsettling feeling, and yet it is guided by curiosity and trust, and a deep and reverent desire to live out and grow in community a personal faith of integrity.

I thank you for welcoming me into your midst, for offering that we might walk together through the coming seasons. May all our bowls be well-filled and well-shared.

-- Stefani Etzbach-Dale