I put together two years’ worth of the very best songs and arrangements sung by the Folk Choir here at First Unitarian in New Bedford. You can get your own coil-bound copy for just $11.98. (But if you’re on a budget, you can find most of the songs here on my Web site.)
List of songs, with type of arrrangment, etc., is below. Continue reading
If you know anything about Unitarian Universalist history over the past forty years, you know that through the 1960s and 1970s, membership in Unitarian Universalist congregations plummeted. I was talking with a Very Wise Person today who contended that only two things kept Unitarian Universalism from complete collapse in the 1970s.
The first thing that kept us from collapse, said the Very Wise Person, was millions of dollars given by the congregation in Plandome, New York. When she died, a woman named Veatch had had left the Plandome congregation congregation some natural gas wells and other lovely investments that produced millions of dollars of income annually. Money from the Plandome congregation kept the national organization, the Unitarian Universalist Association, out of bankruptcy during the 1970s. (Maybe I haven’t got the details quite right, but you can read the whole story in the book The Premise and the Promise by Warren Ross, available through the UUA Bookstore.)
The second thing that kept Unitarian Universalism from complete denominational collapse, said the Very Wise Person, were the religious education programs in local congregations. Religious education is probably the only ministry we Unitarian Universalists have that actually draws large numbers of people to church. So parents would start coming to church when their eldest child got to be three or four years old. Then when their youngest child finally dropped out of Sunday school, usually at age 12 or 13, most of these parents would drift away from church. But it didn’t matter, because there would be new families coming in to replace the ones who drifted away.
And then the Very Wise Person and I talked about how Unitarian Universalist congregations are cutting back on professional religious education staff people these days. Churches that can no longer afford full-time ministers of religious education are hiring part-time directors of religious education. Churches that can no longer afford half-time directors of religious education are cutting those positions to one-third time, or quarter-time. And churches with quarter-time directors of religious education are cutting paid religious education staff altogether. (I have long contended that this is a result of Baumol’s cost disease, that changing economic conditions require churches to have larger and larger memberships to be able to afford level-funded staffing.)
While all this is going on, we’re in the middle of a new baby boom. The latest figures released by the census bureau show that as many children were born in 2006 as were born in 1961, one of the peak years of the previous baby boom. So here we are, we Unitarian Universalists, cutting religious education staff in our local congregations at precisely the time when we should be planning for a major influx of families with young children.
That’s about where the Very Wise Person and I had to end our conversation. Obviously, there’s lots more to say. I would love to hear your thoughts. Is this the beginning of the decline of Unitarian Universalism? Or what?
This was my last Sunday preaching at First Unitarian in New Bedford. What is one supposed to say in one’s last sermon as the settled minister of a congregation? And when one’s last Sunday is also the annual Flower Celebration, then what is one supposed to say? Well, I don’t know what one is supposed to say, but the Flower Celebration gave me the opportunity to reiterate the four basic theological points I usually preach on: Change and transformation will lead us to growth. In light of the fragility of the ecosystem, we have a moral responsibility to create an ecologically sustainable world. In light of the unique value of each individual, we have a moral responsibility to end all forms of discrimination and racism. Each individual in a religious community is connected to every other individual; we are not alone and we cannot exist without community.
The best part of the service, however, was the postlude. In honor of the Flower Celebration, Randy Fayan, our music director, played Rimsky-Korsakov’s Flight of the Bumblebee on the organ: serious music with a sense of humor.
It turned out to be a pleasant last Sunday. Attendance was down to summer levels (i.e., normal for mid-June), and that meant I got to talk to more people than usual at social hour. The only odd thing about social hour was talking with the one newcomer who showed up this week (but I made sure that person met lots of regular churchgoers, so there will be someone to chat with next week). So I chatted with people, drank some tea, and soon it was time to head home. The end of the last Sunday at the New Bedford church. On to new adventures.
Yeah, I know I’m posting too much about Rev. William Jackson, and some of you will be bored with this post. But there’s a few of us who think Jackson is one of the most interesting people who intersected with mid-19th C. Unitarianism, so I’m going to rick one more post.
When the Fugitive Slave Law was enacted in 1850, Jackson was minister of a Baptist church in Philadelphia. He almost immediately committed civil disobedience, and here’s how told the story years later:
“William Taylor was the first fugitive slave that had been arrested following the passage of this law. Recognizing the ‘Higher Law’ as being in force by Divine Authority and being superior to the Decree of a wicked Judge, and feeling a kindred sympathy with my brother as being bound with him, I felt morally and religiously impelled to strike for his freedom. The whole community had been thrown into the most terrible excitement over the arrest of Tayloer, the fugitive slave. Whereupon I felt myself nerved with moral and physical courage to do my duty, and save a brother man from perpetual and cruel bondage. Hence, as the leader of a band of brave men, we went forth and rescued the prisoner from the clutches of the Marshall. We arrayed him in the attire of a woman, and successfully landed him in a few hours on the shores of Canada, where he found shelter and friends in the city of Toronto. As the leader of the rescuing party, I was duly arrested and incarcerated in the city jail.
“On learning of my imprisonment the colored people immediately assembled themselves together in their Churches, like those of old when Peter was imprisoned, where prayer was offered for my deliverance. A party of my friends and the members of my Church had met at the Parsonage… where they fervently invoked the blessing of God upon their imprisoned pastor, and earnestly prayed for his deliverance. Strange as this remarkable interposition of Providence in answer to the prayer may appear to some, I was soon released from the Jail by a writ of Habeas Corpus from Judge [King] obtained through the efforts of the Rev. Edgar [Levy] of the First Baptist Church, West Philadelphia, and [William W.] Keene and [Major] James M. Linnard, and presented to my people at the very time they were praying for my deliverance. It was certainly the most remarkable coincidence, how God in his mercy seemed to manifest himself in my behalf by putting it in to the hearts of these men to use every effort, at this unusual hour of the night, to secure my release from prison. Though it had been indicated by the officer at the time of my arrest that I should try to get bail, I surrendered myself up at once and made no effort in that direction, for I regarded it as no disgrace to be arrested and imprisoned under this infamous and inhuman law, or for advising my fellow men ‘that if they would be free themselves they must first strike the blow.’ ”
I like the fact that Jackson refused to get bail. It gives a good measure of the man.
Two days ago, I presented some primary source material on the first African American Unitarian minister, Rev. William Jackson of New Bedford. Today I turned up another primary source that tells about Rev. William Jackson’s appearance before the Autumnal Convention of the American Unitarian Association in October, 1860. The following report is excerpted from a much longer report published in the New Bedford Evening Standard for 11 October 1860, p. 2, and offers significant new information:
Rev. Mr. Jackson, pastor of the Salem Baptist church (colored) [sic] of this city, addressed the Convention saying that he subscribed entirely to the doctrines advanced in the discourses which had been delivered before the body. He avowed himself as a convert to the doctrines of liberal Christianity [i.e., Unitarianism], and should endeavor in the future to advocate those sentiments from his pulpit.
Rev. Mr. Potter, of this city, bore testimony to the character and integrity of Mr. Jackson. He suggested that a collection be taken up in aid of Mr. J’s church, which was somewhat in debt.
The report of the Committee upon the Address to the Unitarians of England was taken from the table [this report was on the subject of antislavery efforts in the U.S.], and after a slight modification it was accepted.
The collection taken up yesterday in aid of Rev. Messrs. Foster and Brown, of Kansas, was announced to be $300; and that in aid of Mr. Jackson’s church to be $49.46.
Here’s the new information:
Like the other primary source, this source contains no report of any welcome from the gathered members of the American Unitarian Association.
So this joke was originally about two rabbis. With some tweaking, it can be a joke about Unitarian Universalists.
These two old Unitarian Universalists had been arguing for years about religion. They were both agnostics, and they would meet once a week, sit on a park bench, and go over the arguments for and against God. They had been meeting like this for fifty years, they had never made any progress in their arguments, but still they kept at it.
Finally, God got sick of hearing these two argue. So one week, God appears in front of their park bench and says, “I can tell you the one logically valid argument for God’s existence, because I’m God.”
“Look, pal,” says one of the old Unitarian Universalists, “I don’t care who you are, go away and don’t spoil our fun.”
Sometimes when you’re doing research, you have to go back to primary sources. I’ve been researching Rev. William Jackson, an African American minister, who had charge of the Salem Baptist Church in New Bedford from 1858-1870. Jackson was an important figure in the history of African American antislavery activism here in New Bedford, which is why I first started paying attention to him. He was also the first known African American minister to proclaim himself a Unitarian to the American Unitarian Association (AUA), and today we would say that he was treated badly by the AUA. But just what do we mean when we say he was treated badly? Here’s what Mark Morrison-Reed says in his superb study Black Pioneers in a White Denomination:
Egbert Ethelred Brown wasn’t the first black minister to proclaim himself a Unitarian and suffer because of it. Our earliest opportunity to spread Unitarianism into the black community came in 1860 when a Rev. Mr. Jackson of New bedford presented himself to the Autumnal Convention of the American Unitarian Association and testified to his conversion to Unitarianism. He went on and “stated the needs of his church, and the Unitarians took a collection, which totaled $49. A few dollars were added to this amount and he was sent on his way.” Douglas Stange reports this happening in his book Patterns of Antislavery among American Unitarians, 1831-1860, and concludes, “No discussion, no welcome, no expression of praise and satisfaction was uttered, that the Unitarian gospel had reach the ‘colored’.” [Mark Morrison-Reed, Black Pioneers in a White Denomination, 3rd ed., Boston: Skinner House, 1994, pp. 183-184.]
So I got Stange’s book. Morrison-Reed is quoting directly from Stange; that is to say, Morrison-Reed accepts Stange’s interpretations of the primary source materials which Stange consulted. This is perfectly adequate for Morrison-Reed’s purposes; Jackson is really a side issue for his book. But I wanted to read Stange, and here’s what he has to say about this event:
But what happened when a white church had the opportunity to wait upon a black [person]? This opportunity actually occurred at the Autumnal Convention in New Bedford in 1860. A Reverend Mr. Jackson, the “colored minister of New Bedford,” intruded upon the Convention to testify to his conversion to Unitarianism. Since he was perhaps the “only colored minister” (and indeed the first black Unitarian minister in America), he requested their kind and patient attention. After he had stated the needs of his church, the Unitarians took a collection, which totaled $49. A few dollars were added to this amount and Mr. Jackson was sent on his way. No discussion, no welcome, no expression of praise and satisfaction was uttered, that the Unitarian gospel had reached the “colored.” In truth, the antislavery forces had lost the battle, perhaps because many of them had never begun to wage it. [Douglas Stange, Patterns of Antislavery among American Unitarians, 1831-1860, Rutherford, New Jersey: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1977, pp. 226-227.]
But here again, Jackson is just a side issue, and Stange actually tells me very little about Jackson (and for what it’s worth, $49 would be about $1,100 in 2007 dollars). So I decided to go back to the primary source material. Stange cites the 20 October 1860 number of the Christian Inquirer, a Unitarian newspaper of the day. The first two pages of the 20 October 1860 issue are pretty much filled up by the long story on the Autumnal Convention. I read through most of it, to get a flavor of the convention. Jackson doesn’t appear until the last day of the three-day convention. To give you a flavor of what the convention was like, here’s what the Christian Inquirer says about the two speakers who precede Jackson, followed by the actual report of Jackson’s appearance:
Rev. Charles Lowe thought that we now had got upon something practical. We are in the way to do something for our [Unitarian] cause. We have made, he thought, a mistake hitherto in our methods of appeal. We have forgotten those among the people who could do but little, and resorted principally to the rich to obtain what we want. This is not the way other sects do, and it is not the way we ought to do. They collect from all, and even if the sums are small, these little rivulets swell the general stream, and a vast volume is poured forth at last. Let us ask all to give; the two mites are as acceptable as well as the rich men’s offerings.
Rev. Alfred P. Putnam, of Roxbury, thought that to do what is desirable we must cultivate the missionary spirit. Other Christian bodies had their monthly missionary meetings. They thus cultivated the spirit of that work. In the late missionary meetings in Boston, what was especially noteworthy was that the action of missions was reflex upon the churches themselves. We should gain a like good from the establishment of such monthly concerts for missions. By such a method of action an unwonted interest might be awakened over the entire Christian body.
Rev. Mr. Jackson, the colored minister of New Bedford, had been converted [to Unitarianism]. He was converted yesterday by the essay. He should preach the Broad Church. He had learned that the religion of Jesus was universal, and gave all the right and privilege of thinking for themselves. As he was perhaps the only colored Unitarian minister, he hoped they would hear from him patiently. He then presented the claims of his church, which was in debt, and desired that some aid might be afforded him to discharge this debt. After some further remarks, a contribution of $49 was taken up, to which more was afterwards added to lift the debt on Mr. Jackson’s church. [Christian Inquirer, 20 October 1860, p. 2.]
The irony is too much: they’re going on about “missionary” work, and then someone pops up to give them a chance to do “missionary” work in the African American community, and they completely drop the ball. So Stange’s interpretation is probably true, but a more nuanced interpretation seems possible.
Now for some background information that might lead to a more nuanced interpretation of the AUA’s treatment of the very first African American Unitarian minister, which I’ll include below the fold.
I went for a walk just before sunset today: a perfect spring evening, blue sky with a few clouds moving in, scent of lilacs in the air, the trees covered with new leaves.
Partway across the bridge to Pope’s Island there was a juvenile gull on the sidewalk. I thought it must be freshly dead because its eyes had been picked out yet; but then it moved its head slightly when I walked past it. Juvenile gulls are hard to identify, but I’d guess this was a first-year Greater Black-backed Gull.
It was still there when I walked back home. Again, it barely moved its head, cringing slightly, when I walked past. It must be in poor health if it sits on the edge of a sidewalk along a well-traveled four-lane road, and doesn’t even get up to walk away when a human approaches it. They say eighty percent of gulls die within a year of being born, and I’d say that gull was right on track for being part of that eighty percent.
James C. Toatley (1941-1986) was a sculptor who lived and worked in New Bedford. Toatley had a number of exhibitions and commissions in his short career. The MBTA commissioned a work by Toatley, and his sculpture “Faces in a Crowd” is on display at the Jackson Square Station on the Orange Line in Boston. His sculpture has been exhibited at the New Bedford Art Museum, the Museum of the National Center of Afro-American Artists, and the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. (1) The latter exhibit, a group show, was covered by the New York Times, and the Times writer called a sculpture by Toatley “the star of the show”:
“Have you seen ‘Lucy?’” one visitor asked her companion. “Lucy” (1976) is James Toatley’s 191/2 inch bronze sculpture that is endearing enough to make it the star of the show. Here is a robust woman, with no attempt by the artist to disguise her flaws, leaning over an imaginary fence as if carrying on an amiable chat with a neighbor. Her warmth and humanity jump out at the viewer. (2)
Toatley is best known for his sculpture of Lewis Temple, the inventor of the toggle harpoon, a life-size sculpture which presently stands on the lawn of the downtown branch of the New Bedford Public Library. In the sculpture, Lewis Temple is bending forward slightly and looking at a harpoon that he has obviously just been working on; his expression is intent, and quietly triumphant. In this sculpture, Toatley captures a moment of creative success. Toatley also acknowledges the class and race of his subject: Temple wears a working-man’s apron, and he is clearly African American. Thus, the sculpture is more than a simple monument to an African American inventor; it also shows us that genius and inspiration are not restricted by the boundaries of race and class.
Early in his career, Toatley worked as a toy designer for Hasbro toy company of Pawtucket, Rhode Island. (3) He taught sculpture at the University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth, and was the only Black professor in the College of Visual and Performing Arts at the time. The affirmative action officer of the university at that time felt that Toatley was denied tenure due to racial prejudice, and fought the denial of tenure all the way to the university’s board, but was unsuccessful. (4) Toatley married Linda White, they had two children, Peter and Jameliah. He was a member of First Unitarian Church. He died at age 44 in 1986, just before he completed the Lewis Temple monument, and just as he was creating some of his best work.
Notes:
1. African American Visual Artists Database, “Toatley, James C.,” http://aavad.com/artistbibliog.cfm?id=2283, accessed 17 May 2009.
2. Allan R. Gold, “Boston Curator Defends Black Artists’ Exhibition, New York Times, Tuesday, 26 January 1988, p. C16.
3. Robert C. Hayden, African Americans and Cape Verdean Americans in New Bedford, Boston: Select Publications, 1993.
4. John E. Bush, letter to New Bedford Standard-Times, 4 August 1998.