| I arrived at Toronto First over 14 years ago,
following my partner Mo, who'd heard about us from one of her
colleagues. It was just before the big renovation of '92, and my
first volunteer activity was lugging boxes to our temporary quarters
at Deer Park United. Our stay at that old Christian church was
a bit unsettling for me, born to a Jewish family, and for a long
time calling myself an orthodox agnostic. But it turned out that
our temporary host's Christian symbols didn't change the spirit of
our Unitarian services, so I hung in and a year later I marched back
behind John Kiley's bagpipes. In our transformed home, I cherished
architect Murray Ross's elegant, functional design, and artist Sarah
Hall's breathtaking stained glass tower.
I have only a vague memory of the first sermons I heard here. But
over the years I've learned about a religion without irrational
creeds, where reason is used to filter truth from make-believe, and
where no privileged oligarchy rules by right of some mythical
divinity. I very much value what I've learned from Mark & Donna, and
from our guest speakers and teachers.
I've volunteered here in many supporting roles: painting,
cleaning, typing, bartending, organizing ... and last year I was
drafted to serve on the Board of Trustees.
Even before becoming a designated leader of this congregation I
have occasionally incited people to action, but usually my
contributions have been technical ones, facilitating and amplifying
the effectiveness of others whose actions I've joined.
Witnessing the examples of others at First, eight years ago I
volunteered at Out of the Cold, the Toronto housing project
connected to our Food & Shelter Committee. Out of the Cold provides
meals and warm beds for some of Toronto's homeless. At a midtown
church, volunteers from six or so faith communities including our
own prepare food, register guests, serve dinner, distribute
clothing, ... I started there doing kitchen cleanup once every other
month. Lately I've been a weekly regular, the "shift supervisor" for
dining room setup.
Our complex world presents us with many moral conundrums where
the proper course of action is unclear; but I have no doubt that
working at Out of the Cold is the right thing to do. And that work
is empowering, because no one can stop those of us who feel called
to do it. I've recently discovered a new book, titled
"The Impossible Will Take a Little While". That inspiring and
uplifting "citizen's guide to hope in a time of fear" contains
stories by and about activists who didn't give up their struggle,
even when hard reason would dismiss any hope. Many of them are
famous, like Nelson Mandela, Vaclav Havel, Martin Luther King. But
some are unfamiliar, or even anonymous, like the persons unknown who
involved Raymond Parks in the NAACP, who in turn activated his wife
Rosa, who years later refused to give up her seat and move to the
back of bus in Montgomery, Alabama.
The collector of those stories, Paul Rogat Loeb, says that what
the activists have in common is that though they realize that their
goals might not be met in their lifetimes, they feel that "living
with conviction is of value in itself ... simply keeping the flame
alive is a victory"
It may seem pretentious of me to compare my setting up tables and
washing dishes at Out of the Cold to sleeping for 28 years on the
concrete floor of a cell on Robben Island, or risking the wrath of
Jim Crow laws in the U.S. South . but not unlike resistors in
prison, and protestors in Alabama, we volunteers at Out of the Cold
are keeping a flame alive.
It has been a joy for me to meet other volunteers and staff
there. Many have distinctly non-secular views about the place of
humanity in the Cosmos, very unlike my own views; but we all share a
commitment to try to leave the world a better place. In
a couple of weeks I will be participating in another direct-action
project: on Saturday, November 27th I will be helping to finish the
interior of a Habitat for Humanity home. Last month many of you
responded enthusiastically to an energizing talk by the local CEO of
Habitat, which has changed for the better the lives of over a
million people. Many of you will be joining me to hammer nails,
paint walls, feed volunteers, ... There will be fulfillment in
working together with others to do good work.
There are so many worthwhile causes, injustices are so well
established, and progress is always so slow, that it is easy to
despair of effecting change. But taking action brings relief from
such discouraging feelings. By "not refusing to do the something I
can do", perhaps my own world line will nudge that of some 21st
century Rosa Parks.
As the activist and author Howard Zinn tells us in Loeb's
collection of stories: "life is a gamble. Not to play is to
foreclose any chance of winning. To play, to act, is to create at
least a possibility of changing the world." |
