Those of you who are here for the first time, or almost the first, may be rather puzzled about the references to our Canvass Campaign which starts today. You may also be thinking that you chose the wrong service to come to, with a theme that's directed at long-time members and their giving to a congregation that you're just visiting or experimenting with. I ask for your patience, especially because if you want to know what we're all about, this really is as good an opportunity as any! Today is not concerned with anything abstract and "out there", but with who we truly are, why we're grateful to be part of this beloved community, how we contribute our gifts to the life of the congregation, and what we mean by "doing more in 2004!".

This morning I want to be quite personal about the things that mean the most to me in this congregation and in the wider movement of religious freedom. One of the things I love being reminded of every time I discover a connection between congregations, or an interaction between individuals here, is our relatedness. In the 25-plus years that I've been a Unitarian Universalist, I've been enormously proud to claim kinship with some marvellous people in the local congregations and at the international level of the movement, past and present, and especially now with First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo. By joining a free religious community, I've acquired relatives all over the world, connections I'd never have been lucky enough to have in any other way. This morning, I'm very aware of this beautiful extended family!

And I can count on the fact that we're committed to respecting each other and caring about each other. Our movement has come to mean that very thing: respect for each other's worth and dignity and ideas and feelings. We thought about that, especially, last Sunday. Each person in a congregation matters, no member is of no account, no child or adult is dispensible, because each one is our relative -- not only through being human but also by being a member of our congregational family and the free religious movement. I know two sisters who married two brothers. Their children are kind of double cousins, and I think that's what we are to each other in our congregations! Part of the human family; part of this free religious family; doubly related, kissing cousins, kinfolk. A related joy which comes from being part of this community is finding the freedom simply to be ourselves. To be cared for just as we are, knowing that we're accepted as agnostics or traditionalists or sceptics or whatever, but always as seekers after truth -- that can be an amazingly liberating experience at the beginning, and one which we may tend to take for granted after a while.

I try to remind myself every now and then that this is not the way everybody lives, even in this country -- that there are people whose deepest convictions, or whose sexual orientation or whose doubts and fears and explorations are constantly under attack. I am very grateful indeed for the freedom to be myself here, and I hope that you, too, sense that freedom. Let's think this morning about how each one of us can do more in 2004 to help each other feel even more secure in whatever place we've reached in our search for truth and meaning, knowing that while it's never final, it's a fine place to be right now. Let's think, too, about how we can reach out to more people who need to know of a place where they can be freely at home in that way, because it's such a treasure and so well worth sharing.

I'm also glad to be in a place where I have an acknowledged role to play -- and that was just as true for me when I was a lay member of a congregation as it is now that I'm a minister. We have a congregation in which everyone can be empowered to be a leader through taking some kind of responsibility, and in which the leaders with the most responsibility know that there's always someone to take their place and relieve them of the hard work. I try to remind myself every now and then of what a wise person told me: "Remember that the congregation was fine before you came and it will be fine when you go!" We're grateful to all the outgoing and incoming and continuing leaders, but it's all of us together who make the human equivalent of the V-formation of the Canada Geese. The arrangement is fluid and changing, but the formation keeps its shape, and I'm grateful to be part of that shape. Let's think about how we can do more in 2004 in developing leadership, discovering people's talents and interests and encouraging them to use their gifts in the most productive ways here, knowing that they and all of us will benefit from their leadership.

The music in this congregation is fabulous, thanks to the wonderful musicians who participate on a regular basis. There are others, too, I suspect, who are waiting shyly in the wings: I want to encourage you to come forward: we can use all the music we can find. Like you, perhaps, I'm grateful for the very fact of music in our lives and in this congregation -- and I offer a deep personal thank-you for accepting my musical deficiencies with such good grace, and for making up for them with your lovely collective voice. Part of the Board's vision for the coming year, based on the hopes we've heard from many of you, is an even more fully supported music programme (we hope to give proper compensation to a music director, for one thing) because we know that this is an important part of spirituality and feeling at-home for most of us.

I'm glad I'm in a place that includes and values children. The Children's Religious Education programme is a big part of the dreams we have for next year and the ways in which we think we can do more in 2004. We dream of increased hours for our D.R.E. so that she can respond to the ever-growing needs of increasing numbers of young people and their parents and their teachers. We dream, too, of finding creative ways to alleviate the crowding in our limited space downstairs, both in the children's class time and in the social hour after the service. Religious Education is a matter of environment and atmosphere, and making the space less congested and safer would contribute to our overall, vital dream of community and spiritual at-homeness. Crowding is not only unsafe but inhospitable; our dreams are about spaciousness in every sense. Let's find ways towards more spaciousness in 2004.

Like some of you, I notice occasionally when there are stains on the carpet and full wastebaskets, and I look forward to our professional cleaning person coming. But if nobody else cleaned and maintained this church, we'd be in just as much trouble as if I were the only one doing ministry! Thanks to all of you who care about amenities and aesthetics on a regular basis and on an ad-hoc, as-needed basis -- it's always appreciated; it never goes amiss. I feel gratitude for a congregation in which many of us think of this as our second home, so that we pick up and dust and wipe off without a second thought. Let's do more of that in 2004, so that this Unitarian House looks the way we'd like our homes to look - not necessarily spotless or dust-free, but certainly welcoming and bright. If you ever wonder if it would be all right to tidy up a table or sort out a shelf - yes, it would be all right, because this is your home, we hope, your spiritual home!

When I think about the most memorable times I've spent in the congregations with which I've been associated, I realize that most of them involve food and drink in some way. I appreciate, as you probably do, the Sunday refreshment and social time and the custom of "lunch with the minister" on Friday, and the dishes that are brought to pot-luck meals such as the one we're having after this service, and for so many other occasions which have left a good taste in my mouth. Here, we are companions - com-panions, literally, people who eat bread together -- and that companioning makes so much difference to life. It's the one-to-one conversations and the informal small-group activities, the Chalice Circles and the singing sessions and even - dare I suggest? - the committee meetings when we work together as friends - it's these which give us that vital companionship. Let's do more companioning in 2004, because it's so precious.

As we think about this congregation today -- as we feel our gratitude to those who've worked so hard to make this a true spiritual home, I hope we can keep this in mind: what we receive here can only continue and blossom when our own participation provides the material and resources for the future. Our money alone won't do it, although giving money is a powerful testimony to our gratitude. Attendance at meetings won't do it. The best intentions and most polished managerial skills in the world won't sustain this congregational home without the willingness of everyone to share in both the rewards and the responsibilities. It's the stuff of our lives that's needed, mutuality, sharing and caring, love.

Well, I got over the hardest part -- first mention of the word money! I'm nervous talking about money, as I know some of you are nervous hearing it talked about, partly because of our justifiable reluctance to seem to suggest, even for a moment, that what people give to the congregation affects the way we value them. I suggest to you, though, that while money is no measure of how valuable we are, it says something about what we value. It's the way we express what matters to us. The topic is imbued with deep personal significance for each one of us as well as for the congregation collectively, and it has to be approached recognizing that significance and meaning. That doesn't mean it should remain a taboo subject, though, and we've taken some big steps forward in this year's canvass towards demystifying the way we talk about our finances and our giving, trying to be more open, with less of the sense of secrecy and even shame that may have been there in the past. I suggest that this is worthwhile to attempt in many areas, not just finances. Let's do more in 2004 to be open with one another about what we can give to this congregation and what we need to find here.

There may be some feeling that the minister should stay somewhat removed from matters of money and how we spend it, and perhaps it's a well-grounded concern. I'm not a canvasser, because the biggest single component of our budget is my salary, and it's more appropriate for other people to try to convince you about the value of that item. But I'm certainly going to discuss my convictions about giving, and I can be bold enough to do so because you and I both know that I can't tell you what to do! I honour and respect your convictions, and my only hope for my talks is that they will stimulate your thinking and action in whatever way seems right to you. On the subject of money, some of you, particularly the relative newcomers, have actually expressed a desire for help in thinking things through. And some old-timers have said they appreciate the new "up-frontness" of our canvass approach.

Embarrassment about the level of our giving may be at the root of some reluctance to open up about money. There are those of us who aren't satisfied with what we're giving, and it's also true that some people are naturally modest and would rather not have it publicly known how deeply they dig into their pockets to keep their congregation solvent. We have nothing to be ashamed of, and much to be proud of, in the way we collectively support the work of this congregation: for our size we're doing extraordinarily well by supporting full-time professional ministry, a paid Religious Education Director and a prospective Music Director. There are all kinds of well-functioning committees and activities, and wonderful energy and enthusiasm. But we want to do so much more -- to reach out into the community in yet more ways, because we have active social consciences -- to extend our membership, because we believe that many people would benefit from knowing about us -- to increase our leadership further in the ways I've mentioned -- to become what some people refer to as a "full-service" congregation, if only that didn't sound so much like a gas-station! These things are possible, but they depend to a large extent on our willingness to talk about money and commit ourselves to giving.

I believe that the amount of their disposable income that informed people choose to give to the congregation says something significant about two things: how the members' and friends' needs are being met, and the level of commitment which flows from that. Notice I said "informed people". I think we've probably underestimated one basic need of the people who come here -- the need for information about how this congregation operates financially. Not all of you know that the cost of keeping the First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo going at it's current level comes in somewhere close to $100,000 a year. That includes the costs associated with the building, the staff, and all our activities. We have just over 100 official adult members (that is, people who've signed the membership book) so that works out to somewhere around $1,000 per individual member, just to survive! Thank goodness we have contributing friends, as well! Remember that the average giving required is doubled for every family with two adults! It's a very high cost, isn't it? If we believe that this is a congregational family, we'd best pay a lot more attention to where the money's coming from and where it's going. Can you imagine in your nuclear family refraining from discussing the fact that one adult son or daughter doesn't contribute to the food and rent costs even though they're employed full-time and living at home? Refraining because that's their private concern?! I don't think so! What does happen in our families is that we recognize the absolute uniqueness of each person's situation.

We know that everyone has calls on their money which leave them with differing amounts of disposable income, even though they may be paid exactly the same as someone else. There may be good reasons why someone can give very little to the congregation right now. Tell your canvasser about that when you meet with them - of course only in as much detail as you feel comfortable with. But your situation, your ability to contribute, needs to be discussed if we're going to plan our expenditures sensibly. So how should you decide on your contribution to the First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo for 2004?

First of all, it depends what part the congregation plays in your life. If you attend services occasionally, and hardly ever participate in other activities, and your friends and social life are mostly unconnected with Unitarian House, and membership here would come low on a list of things which describe who you are, you're going to contribute in a small way, no matter what your income is -- unless you choose this as your charity for tax purposes, of course, and I don't want to discourage that! We can give you a tax receipt for your identified givings, and that's a big help to most of us. But if you're on the periphery, a nominal member or friend without much attachment to us and giving only a little: welcome! We love to have you here whenever you want to come, and thanks to the generosity of others we can carry your costs. We think it's worthwhile, because making your life more meaningful, in however small a way, is what we're about, and you make our place more meaningful by your presence when you come.

If you're at the other extreme, as I am, and the congregation is a major part of your life, spiritually, emotionally, intellectually and socially, you'll want to give to it in the way you give to your family life -- a big chunk of your income. (And in case you're curious and don't remember from reading the canvass brochure, my pledge for 2004, which I've already made, is $1,500, somewhere around 3% of my income.) Every bit that's given over the average contribution that's needed will go to welcome newcomers, and those on the edges, and those who can't contribute so much.

Wherever you are on the continuum, the deciding factor, I believe, is how much the congregation means to you. Is it appropriate for your giving to be about on a level with what you spend on entertainment, or is it more comparable to your food costs? How do we rate in comparison to cable T.V. or to new living-room furniture? Our appreciation for this congregation needs to translate into giving, I believe. Because money, and how much we are willing to stretch ourselves to give, is the way we express what we truly value.

I'm going to end with two stories. The first just came to me on Friday, by email from a colleague in the U.S., where they've just celebrated Thanksgiving, but I think it works in well to the upcoming Christmas season too. My colleagues says,

The Butterball Turkey Hotline gets a lot of calls this time of year. A woman called to say that she had found a turkey that had been in her freezer for twenty-three years. She asked whether it was any good. The experts consulted. They told the caller that if the freezer had been at 0F or less during that entire time, the turkey was probably still safe enough to eat -- but they wouldn't recommend it, because the flavor would have deteriorated considerably.

The caller replied, "That's what I thought. I guess I'll just give it to the church."

We're not asking for your old dried out turkeys today! We're asking for the best and most flavourful pledge you can give.

Another colleague, Rev. Allison Barrett in Hamilton, notes in her congregation's December newsletter that

Most of what we are able to give to others we have first received, whether it be love, support, help or guidance. This blessing returns to us when we are able to ..... share the joy that our gift has given. Aboriginal tradition counsel[s us] to "keep the gifts moving" ...

In that spirit, Allison quotes the story with which I'll end my Reflection, as it was told by yet another colleague, Rev. David Blanchard:

It's about an African boy who wanted to give a gift to his teacher who was going home to England. The child had no money and his options were few. The day before the teacher was to leave, the child brought her a huge seashell. The teacher asked the boy where he could have found such a shell. He told her there was only one spot where such extraordinary shells could be found, and when he named the place, a certain beach many miles away, the teacher was speechless.

"Why ... why, ... it's gorgeous ... wonderful ... , but you shouldn't have gone all that way to get a gift for me."

His eyes brightening, the boy answered, "Long walk part of gift."

Most of the meaningful gifts we give to each other require some version of that "long walk," and giving to this congregation is no exception. Have a pleasant canvass visit, and when it comes time to write your pledge, remember that it may require a long stretch. "Long walk part of gift." So may it be. So may it always be.