This is the final sermon is a 4-part series on the “idols” worshiped in our time and culture, instead of what has ultimate worth and meaning. The inspiration for the series comes from our Unitarian Universalist principles, the portion of our Living Tradition which says, “Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit.” In this series, we have taken critical looks at the worship of materialism, violence, and the relentless pursuit of personal comfort. By examining the “false gods” that are so prevalent in our time and culture, we hope to show that Unitarian Universalism offers more meaningful alternatives, such as religious community instead of things, peaceful and creative means of resolving conflict instead of using violence, and challenge and risk for a better world instead of mere comfort.

Today we look at the worship of the status quo, or the way things are, and we began with 3 rather amusing stories. A family with a large oven and a complete set of cookware still cuts off the ends of the ham, a church with central heating still arranges itself around a long-gone wood stove, and a group of apes in a cage vigilantly stop each other from climbing a set of stairs -- even though in all 3 cases, there is no longer an objective rational reason to keep doing these things. This is what we’re talking about when we say the worship of the status quo can become idolatry -- when “the way things have always been” becomes sacred, when it is unexamined and unanalyzed, when certain actions and ways of being continue, when the original reasons for the behavior are removed, even when the continuance of the old ways might be counterproductive or harmful, then the status quo can be characterized as an idol, a false god.

We human beings are creatures of habit. Like the family and church and apes in our stories, sometimes we will elevate a comfort-able -- or even an uncomfortable! -- habit to the level of sanctity. The familiar not only becomes comfortable, but it becomes like a god, ruling over our lives. When that happens, change is resisted out of fear, out of inertia, out of pride -- out of any number of reasons that seem reasonable and right to the persons doing the resisting, and the organization -- whether it is a family, a congregation, or a corporation -- fails to respond to new and changing conditions. What we’ve always done becomes a sacred cow that cannot be slaughtered.

What happens when an organization or a society fails to respond to changes in its surroundings and circumstances? It has been said that the 7 last words of a dying organization are “We’ve never done it that way before.” Individuals and groups that refuse to adapt when their context changes, die. It’s as simple and as brutal as that. A seed that doesn’t grow into a plant and bloom into flower dies. An intimate relationship where the 2 partners refuse to adapt to changes that naturally occur in each of them ends in divorce. A business that fails to make changes when its market evolves fails. A church that clings to a vision of a comfortable present or a golden past will dwindle and eventually close its doors.

The status quo, the way things are, is not a god to be worshipped. It is simply a way station, a passage from the past into the future. We can no more keep things exactly the way we think we like them any more than we can keep our kids from growing, our-selves from aging, or our church building or our homes from needing maintenance. Everything that is alive changes; nothing except that which is dead stays the same. Change is truly the only constant in life.

Change may be the only constant, but as the keynote speaker at a Unitarian Universalist Mid-Sized Church Conference said a few years ago, “The only person who likes change is a wet baby.” I don’t know anybody else who likes change. All of us -- except that wet baby -- find change disorienting, uncomfortable, challenging, dangerous, even painful, and this is true whatever our age, our theology or our politics.

All change is, in effect, both a death and a new birth, as one way of doing and being dies and another one comes into being. Worship of the status quo, elevating “what is” to a sacred idol that must be appeased, to which the new must be sacrificed, prevents both the necessary death of the old and the impending birth of the new. Preventing change is an artificial means of preservation -- think of objects on display in a museum, kept in light and humidity-controlled environments. The objects are protected, all right, but no one would argue that they are alive, in use, vital. But it’s not only precious objects in a museum that can become frozen and artificially preserved -- it can happen in businesses and families and in congregations too.

Because change can be painful, it can cause feelings of sad-ness. Being able to appropriately express grief and longing is a part of a healthy process of dealing with inevitable change. Trying to suppress or deny those feelings only results in anger and recrimination. It is natural to feel sad or confused or fearful when things change, and it is good to be able to share those feelings. But we can-not allow our sense of sadness or trepidation keep us from moving ahead, and leaders of an organization cannot allow the complaints of a few to sabotage progress.

Worshiping the status quo is not the answer. Trying to forestall or resist change is not the answer either. The present is neither fixed nor dependable. We cannot protect ourselves from the turmoil and tension in the sea of change by raising “what already is” to an ultimate value.

A new minister inevitably brings challenges and changes to a congregation. Here in our church community, we are already, only 3 weeks into our new ministry, facing a set of interlocking challenges and what we decide to do about them will determine the fate of our congregation for years to come. Can the church stay exactly the same as it was in years past if a new minister and new people join us? If the number of people attending Sunday worship continues to increase, how will we make sure that each of us is known and cared for, that our human needs for appropriate intimacy are met? How will we nurture and care for the children and their parents who are part of our community? How will we attend to the spiritual and social needs of the young adults in our midst? How will we care for our most senior members? How do we wish our church to be known and recognized in the wider community? All of these questions, and more, point us towards our mission as a UU church, and how we answer them will set the tone for our church for the future. And every decision we make will naturally close out the possibilities of other options, for that is the very nature of life and change.

Whatever decisions we consciously make together as a liberal community of faith, using our established processes and procedures, will be the right ones for us; the only wrong path is to try NOT to decide, to deny the challenges posed by the changes we’ve already experienced, and to say that somehow, in spite of all we know about life and growth and change, our church can stay exactly the same, comfortable and familiar.

Knowing that we all hate change, and realizing that change is going to happen whether we like it or not, it seems that the best thing for a family or organization or religious community to do is to help each other deal with the labor pains of change, supporting each other, offering comfort along with the challenge, and giving folks space to grieve the past, while preparing ourselves to welcome the new. And most importantly, always, always, remembering that what is really of ultimate value in human life is LOVE. If we hold onto that, if we stay mindful of our true mission and goal, then, as one of our UU hymns says, love will guide us through the hard night, and we will change not only our church, but the world. So might this be! AMEN -- ASHE -- SHALOM -- SALAAM -- NAMASTE -- BLESSED BE!

Copyrighted 2002, Melanie Morel Sullivan. This material may be used by other Unitarian Universalist churches with attribution to the author and the Unitarian Universalist Church in Cherry Hill. Commercial distribution is prohibited.