The year in music

I have to spend a lot of time thinking about music for my job. Honestly, though, much of what passes for sacred music in Unitarian Universalist circles these days is pretty dreary stuff. To avoid dreariness and boredom, this will not be a post about UU sacred music. Instead, here’s some of the more obscure music I’ve encountered this past year.

I’ll start with the ‘ukulele. This under-appreciated instrument still gets no respect, but there are some stunning players out there. Like jazz great Benny Chong, now in his eighties and still going strong. Here he is with bassist Byron Yasui on “Just the Way You Are.” Chong is also a fabulous solo player. Here he is playing “My Romance.”

Two men playing musical instruments
Benny Chong and Byron Yasui performing in Hawai’i (screen grab from video)

I’ve also been listening to Carmen Souza, who mixes traditional Cape Verdean music with contemporary styles. Here she is with “Amizadi” from her latest album. Souza writes: “For this song, I composed a Funaná [a traditional Cape Verdean genre] based on the story of Francisco Cruz, a.k.a B.Leza. This genre promotes fun and social interaction, so I called it Amizadi (Friendship).” Next, here she is solo, singing “Confiança & Bonança”, a video released on International Women’s Day 2024.

A woman singing
Carmen Souza, performing live in France (screen grab from video)

One of my musical obsessions this year has been handbells, because I started playing in our congregation’s handbell choir. Sadly, much of the handbell music you find online tends towards dreary Christian sacred music. Yawn. But if you look, you can find more interesting stuff. Like the Double Mallet Ringers, based in Hong Kong. Most of their ringers are professional music educators, they commission compositions, and they even have a resident composer. In addition to more serious music, they also do goofy covers like this.

Double Mallet Ringers, Hong Kong (screen grab from video)

Finally, So Percussion and Caroline Shaw released another new album together this year. What they do could be described as singer-songwriter meets avant-garde. Do their lyrics actually mean anything? Whatever, it’s incredibly refreshing music. Here’s the title track from their new album Rectangles and Circumstance.

There’s a lot of great musical creativity out there, from a variety of different cultures, in a variety of styles. Maybe the new year will bring some new creativity and variety to UU sacred music….

Addendum: I just have to throw in this piece I found today, by Kenyan sound artist Nyokabi Kariuki, “Raw Sugar” performed by the Brooklyn Youth Chorus.

Book worth looking at

In preparing for upcoming sermons, I’ve been reading some basic texts that I think provide the foundations for today’s lived religion for many Unitarian Universalists. I started with Nietzsche, because a great many Unitarian Universalists echo some of Nietzsche’s pronouncements about the death of God.

By the way, in Twilight of the Idols, the eighth of Nietzsche’s “Maxims and Missiles” is this: “From the military school of life. — That which does not kill me, makes me stronger.” Today this has become a much-repeated religious maxim. I wonder if people would repeat it so often if they knew that Nietzsche included it in one of his books.

In any case, although Nietzsche is actually quite a good writer, unlike many philosophers, the quality of his prose is inconsistent, and he can descend to bombast and even incoherence at times. Nor do I find him especially likable; perhaps the better word is, I don’t find that he is sociable; he doesn’t seem to like human society all that much. I can only take a few pages of Nietzsche before I need to read something else to clear my mind.

It occurred to me that Spinoza is another writer who must provide the foundations for much of today’s Unitarian Universalism — his insistence on reason and rationality, his advocacy for freedom of thought, and for democracy — we owe a great deal to Spinoza for being the first Western writer to articulate these values so well.

I had been introduced to Spinoza in an introductory philosophy class, and found him unreadable. A philosophy major who knew more than I told me that we were reading from a notoriously bad translation, but that it was the only English translation of Spinoza that was in print at that time. Whatever the reason, that class put me off Spinoza, and I never wanted to read him again.

But I discovered that Edwin Curley had published new translation of the Theological-Political Treatise in 2016. Curley is supposed to be a well-regarded expert on Spinoza. I thought I’d give his translation a try.

Curley’s translation turns out to be wonderfully readable, and relevant to today’s theological and political situation. Take, for example, this passage from Chapter XX, which has the chapter title, “It is shown that in a Free Republic, everyone is permitted to think what he wishes and to say what he thinks”:

“These examples show, more clearly than by the noon light, that the real schismatics are those who condemn the writings of others and seditiously incite the unruly mob against the writers, not the writers themselves, who for the most part write only for the learned and call only reason to their aid. Again, the real troublemakers are those who want, in a Free Republic, to take away the freedom of judgment, even though it can’t be repressed.”

Today, those who call themselves conservatives and those who call themselves liberals have both descended to condemning the writings of others; and have both tried to take away freedom of judgment. Both the conservatives and the liberals have advanced good reasons for condemning the writings of others. But, as Spinoza points out: banning books in libraries, or banning speakers from college campuses, really amounts to taking away freedom of judgment, even though that judgment can’t be really repressed.

I’ll end this post with one more quote from this same chapter, that could have been written about the recent U.S. presidential election campaign (note that “liberal studies” here does not mean politically liberal in the U.S. sense, but rather in the sense of the liberal arts):

“Liberal studies and trust are corrupted, flatterers and traitors are encouraged, and the opponents of [liberal studies and trust] exult, because a concession has been made to their anger, and because they’ve made those who have sovereignty followers of the doctrine whose interpreters they are thought to be. That’s how it happens that they dare to usurp their authority and right, and don’t blush to boast that they’ve been chosen immediately by God, and their their own decrees are divine, whereas those of the supreme powers are human, and therefore should yeild to divine decrees, that is, to their own decrees. No on can fail to see that all these things are compmletely contrary to the well-being of the Republic.”

In his day, Spinoza’s books were banned and he had to fear persecution by the religious and political authorities. No doubt he would suffer the same fate if he lived in the U.S. today. This sad reality may help explain why colleges are cutting philosophy programs: God forbid that there should be a course of study that might include a thinker like Spinoza.

Searching for Godel

I was buying books online from Seminary Coop Bookstore when I stumbled across a 2021 biography of Kurt Godel. My one exposure to higher mathematics was an undergraduate course in mathematical logic where the professor took us through the proof of the first of Godel’s two incompleteness theorems. Although I got a mediocre grade in that class, it was one of the highlights of my undistinguished undergraduate career. Maybe it would be fun to read a biography of Godel.

The biography was Journey to the Edge of Reason: The Life of Kurt Godel by Stephen Budiansky. I looked it up on Kirkus Reviews, which gave it a good review, calling it an “outstanding biography of a man of incomprehensible brilliance.” I ordered the book.

The biography opens with a kind of cheesy prologue telling of Godel’s conversations with a psychiatrist he was seeing towards the end of his life. The prologue ends on page 7 with Godel’s death. I didn’t think much of the proluge, but I wanted to know about Godel, so I decided to plow on with the rest of the book.

From page 7 to page 42, I learned nothing about Kurt Godel. Instead of telling us about Godel’s childhood, Budiansky gives a precis of the political and intellectual history of Austria and central Europe in the early part of the twentieth century. Then there are a few pages devoted to the ostensible subject subject of the biography — before the author turns away from Godel once again to write about early twentieth century central Europe. Thus, we learn almost nothing about Godel’s childhood.

Well, I thought, maybe there just aren’t that many sources about Godel’s childhood. That’s a common problem for biographers. Once Godel enters college, surely Budiansky will spend more time writing about Godel. But we actually get very little about what Godel was like in college, and a great deal about the people Godel met in college. I began to feel as though Budiansky either didn’t know anything about Godel, or maybe preferred not to write about Godel for some personal reason.

By page 97 — after a somewhat pointless digression about Ludwig Wittgenstein that went on for several pages, while again telling me nothing about Godel — I was growing bored. I skipped ahead to see what Budiansky had to say about Godel at the time he came up with his incompleteness theorem. Once again, it felt to me as though Budiansky wasn’t telling me about Godel himself, nor about Godel’s thought, but instead only about the milieu around Godel. It was also clear that Budiansky knew about as much as I did about Godel’s most famous theorem (i.e., not much), so I wasn’t even going to get an insight into the man’s intellectual achievements.

I’m giving up on the book, at least for now. Perhaps what I’m really looking for is more of an intellectual biography. Two of my favorite biographies are Ruth Crawford Seeger: A Composer’s Search for American Music by Judith Tick, and Hans-Georg Gadamer: A Biography by Jean Grondin; both these biographies were written by people who had expertise in their subject’s field, and could write intelligently about their subjects’ accomplishments. But additionally, both these biographies also center their focus on their subject. Budiansky doesn’t seem to know much about mathematical logic, nor does he seem to be able to keep his biography centered on Kurt Godel.

All this goes to show that you can’t always trust Kirkus Reviews.

Updated Greek Myths curriculum

I spent the last two days doing an update of the Greek Myths curriculum on my curriculum website.

Tessa Swartz, then 12 years old, and I developed this curriculum back in 2014. Teachers at the UU Church of Palo Alto did a field test in 2015, and I did a quick revision that year incorporating field test feedback. I was supposed to do a final edit the following year (2016), but that was the year my father died and I wound up dropping the project. Nevertheless, the curriculum continued in use at the Palo Alto church right up through the pandemic.

This final revision retains the same stories originally curated by Tessa and me in 2014. But the following changes were made: revised the lesson plans (some quite heavily); added more illustrations; upgraded existing illustrations; rewrote the introduction; and did an overall edit.

If you have any comments on the curriculum, please leave them here or email me.

A woman chained to a rack cliff, with a sea monster below her and a man hovering above her.
A new illustration just added to the Greek Myths curriculum: Andromeda chained to the rock. This is a detail from a Roman wall painting of the first century BCE, from the Boscotrecase, Italy (public domain image).

Remembering Maggi Kerr Peirce

I first met Maggi in 2003. It was at the opening celebration for the 2009 General assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association, held that year in Boston. I went up into the balcony of the venue, where it was less crowded and I could be closer to the stage. I sat down next to a friendly-looking gray-haired woman, who soon struck up a conversation. We quickly discovered that we had both been born Unitarians — she into the Belfast, Ireland, Unitarian church, and I into the Concord, Massachusetts, Unitarian church (I was born just before merger with the Universalists, so it was still a Unitarian church). Next we discovered that we had a common acquaintance: I knew Maggi’s son, Hank, from theological school. By this time, we were chatting like old friends.

A month later I started a new job on the West coast. But two years later, I was lucky enough to be called as the minister of the New Bedford, Mass., Unitarian church, where Maggi was a key lay leader. In my four years in New Bedford, I grew to respect Maggi more and more. She was a skilled musician with an excellent ear. She valued education, and returning to college in her forties to complete her bachelor’s degree. She helped found Tryworks Coffeehouse in 1967 as a way to reach out to youth, and I heard over and over again how she had changed young people’s lives in her two decades running Tryworks. She was also the kind of lay leader a minister dreams of: she only gave compliments when they were deserved, so they really meant something; and when she had to let the minister (me) know that I had fallen short, she did so in a way that helped me do better the next time. Perhaps that was what I appreciated most about Maggi — she knew that people could do better, she wanted to help them do better, and she had some good strategies to encourage people to achieve more than they thought they could.

Maggi’s list of accomplishments is kind of stunning. There’s that college degree in midlife, and those twenty years directing Tryworks Coffeehouse. She was perhaps best known as a storyteller, receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Storytellers Alliance, but she was also a folksinger. She performed at the Smithsonian, the Newport Folk Festival, the Philadelphia Folk Festival, regularly at the Indian Neck Folk Festival, and on the old Prairie Home Companion radio show. I believe she also performed with Christmas Revels. She published her poetry in the local newspaper, and I especially remember a poem she wrote about the September 11 attacks. She published three books of stories, plus a memoir of her Belfast childhood in 2013, titled A Belfast Girl. She served as president of the board of First Unitarian in New Bedford, and president of that congregaiton’s Women’s Alliance. I honestly don’t understand how one person could be that accomplished, and have that much time and energy.

After I left the New Bedford church, I did what ministers are supposed to do, and I kept my contacts with congregants to an absolute minimum. But I was fortunate enough to see Maggi one more time. When Karen LeBlanc was installed as the minister of New Bedford a year or so ago, she asked me to come and give the prayer. Maggi was there (of course), and I got to talk with her briefly at the reception afterwards. Then in her nineties, she was just as charismatic, just as sunny, just as pleasant to talk with as always. That brief interaction left me standing a little straighter, and making me feel that I could keep doing better in my life. That’s the kind of person Maggi was.

More about Maggi — an obituary at First Unitarian of New Bedfordaudio of a talk she gave in 2009 about Tryworks2016 profile on The Wanderer.

How the 18th C. British establishment perceived Unitarians

James Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, described how one “Reverend Mr. Palmer, Fellow of Queen’s College, Cambridge,” dined with Boswell and Johnson in 1781. Boswell appended a footnote with some more information about Palmer:

“This unfortunate person, whose full name was Thomas Fysche Palmer, afterwards went to Dundee, in Scotland, where he officiated as minister to a congregation of the sect who called themselves Unitarians, from a notion that they distinctively worship one God, because they deny the mysterious doctrine of the Trinity. They do not advert that the great body of the Christian Church, in maintaining that mystery, maintain also the Unity of the God-head; the ‘Trinity in Unity! — three persons and one God.’ The Church humbly adores the Divinity as exhibited in the holy Scriptures. The Unitarian sect vainly presumes to comprehend and define the Almighty. Mr. Palmer having heated his mind with political speculations, became so much dissatisfied with our excellent Constitution, as to compose, publish, and circulate writings, which were found to be so seditious and dangerous, that upon being found guilty by a Jury, the Court of Justiciary in Scotland sentenced him to transportation for fourteen years. A loud clamour against this sentence was made by some Members of both Houses of Parliament; but both Houses approved of it by a great majority; and he was conveyed to the settlement for convicts in New South Wales. “

In other words, promoting Unitarianism in late eighteenth century Britain was sometimes considered illegal. Further, you could be sent to the penal colony in Australia for that crime. I guess Unitarianism was perceived as a threat to the establishment — not just to the established Church of England, but to the political establishment as well.

More on land acknowledgements

A recent news story got me thinking about land acknowledgements.

On Friday 15 November, Brown University transferred possession of 255 acres of land in Bristol, Rhode Island, to a preservation trust established by the Pokanoket Indian Tribe. The land was the ancestral home of Metacom, known by English settlers in the 17th century as King Phillip; it was he whom King Phillip’s War was named after. This transfer of land had its origins in a 2017 encampment by people who were descended from the 17th century Pokanoket village.

There are some details that make this land transfer especially interesting.

First, the land is being transferred to a preservation trust, not to a specific tribal entity. The agreement specifically states that the land “shall at all times and in perpetuity provide and maintain access to the lands and waters of the Property to all members of all Tribes historically part of the Pokanoket Nation/Confederacy, and to all members of the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head (Aquinnah), the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe, the Assonet Band of the Wampanoag Nation, the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe and the Pocasset Tribe of the Pokanoket Nation.”

Second, the Pokanoket Tribe is not recognized by the federal government, nor by the state of Rhode Island. A Providence Journal article from 2017, written right after the 2017 encampment, pointed out that even other Indian tribes don’t necessarily recognize the Pokanoket Indians: “It is not just the U.S. government that doesn’t recognize the Pokanokets. The Narragansett Indian Tribe, the only federally-recognized tribe in Rhode Island, also maintains that the Pokanokets lack any standing under the law.” And other Wampanoag tribes apparently remain skeptical; not surprising, given that the territory claimed by the Pokanokets seems to include some lands currently administered by other Wampanoag groups.

Honestly, this kind of thing should be expected here in southern New England. We have a legacy of four hundred years of erasing Indian presence here. This has been well documented, e.g. in Jean O’Brien’s scholarly book First and Lasting: Writing Indians Out of Existence in New England (Univ. of Minnesota Press, 2010).

But this also raises challenges to Unitarian Universalist congregations in our area who would like to adopt a land acknowledgement. Here in Cohasset, we could offer land acknowledgements to at least three tribal entities. We’re probably in the historic lands of the Massachusett, so perhaps it would make sense to acknowledge the Massachusett Tribe at Ponkapoag, based in Bridgewater. However, there’s another Massachusett group, the Praying Indians of Natick and Ponkapoag, based in Stoughton; and since we’re pretty sure that an Indian woman who became a member of the Cohasset church in 1736 later settled in Natick, maybe it makes sense for us to acknowledge this tribal entity. Or maybe we should acknowledge both. And now that I’ve learned from researching the land transfer initiated by the Pokanoket Tribe that they identify Cohasset as being part of their traditional lands, maybe we should acknowledge them, too.

I suspect many people facing this kind of challenge would simply ignore the current tribal entities, and go with the historic record at the moment of European contact. If we did that here, we’d acknowledge Cohasset belonged to the Massachusett Indians in 1620 (probably; there’s some debate among historians). But in this part of the world, that kind of land acknowledgement can result in writing Indians out of existence, because it glosses over the fact that Indians continued to live on these lands for the past four hundred years, and continue to live here today.

This brings me back to the land transfer that Brown is undertaking. The home of Metacomet has significance for all Indians in southeastern New England. Four hundred years of colonialism make it difficult to know who — which tribal entity — should be the appropriate stewards of the land. Thus the university chose to set up a permanent trust that allows access to more than one tribal entity. This is by no means an ideal solution, but given the history of our region, it does make sense. The university did not try to adjudicate which are the “real” Indians who should have access to the land.

If we’re going to do land acknowledgements, maybe that’s the kind of thing we need to do in our region. We don’t want to erase today’s Indians from the New England landscape. We do want to recognize that descendants of those seventeenth century Indians are still living around here (some of them may even come into our congregations now and again), and they may have their own opinions about whose land it is. Above all, we don’t want to pretend that we get to adjudicate who are the “real” Indians in our area.

Sex ed in poetry

One of the sessions in the Our Whole Lives comprehensive sexuality education curriculum for grades 7-9 involves inviting a couple with a baby to visit the class. The couple tell the teens what it’s like to have a baby in the house. Topics that usually come up include parent sleep deprivation, the sense of tremendous responsibility, and of course how much work it takes.

With that in mind, here’s a poem by William King (1663-1712).

The Beggar Woman

A gentleman in hunting rode astray,
More out of choice, than that he lost his way,
He let his company the Hare pursue,
For he himself had other game in view.
A Beggar by her trade; yet not so mean,
But that her cheeks were fresh, and linen clean.
“Mistress,” quoth he, “and what if we two shou’d
“Retire a little way into the wood?”
      She needed not much courtship to be kind,
He ambles on before, she trots behind;
For little Bobby, to her shoulders bound,
Hinders the gentle dame from ridding ground.
He often ask’d her to expose; but she
Still fear’d the coming of his Company.
Says she, “I know an unfrequented place,
“To the left hand, where we our time may pass,
“And the mean while your horse may find some grass.”
Thither they come, and both the horse secure;
Then thinks the Squire, I have the matter sure.
She’s ask’d to sits: but then excuse is made,
“Sitting,” says she, “’s not usual in my trade
“Should you be rude, and then should throw me down,
“I might perhaps break more backs than my own.”
He smiling cries, “Come, I’ll the knot untie,
And, if you mean the Child’s, we’ll lay it by.”
Says she, “That can’t be done, for then ’twill cry.
“I’d not have us, but chiefly for your sake,
“Discover’d by the hideous noise ’twould make.
“Use is another nature, and ’twould lack
“More than the breast, its custom to the back.”
“Then,” says the Gentleman, “I should be loth
“To come so far and disoblige you both:
“Were the child tied to me, d’ye think ’twould do?”
“Mighty well, Sir! Oh, Lord! if tied to you!”
      With speed incredible to work she goes,
And from her shoulders soon the burthen throws;
Then mounts the infant with a gentle toss
Upon her generous friend, and, like a cross,
The sneet she with a dextrous motion winds,
Till a firm knot the wandering fabrick binds.
      The Gentleman had scarce got time to know
What she was doing; she about to go,
Cries, “Sir, good b’ye; ben’t angry that we part,
“I trust the child to you with all my heart:
“But, ere you get another, ’ten’t amiss
“To try a year or two how you’ll keep this.”

Now you can see why this poem reminded me of a sex ed lesson. The beggar woman just taught the gentleman that there’s more to sex than he knew.

Catchphrase

Recently, I’ve noticed a new catchphrase in mass correspondence that comes from both the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) and the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association (UUMA). Instead of addressing us recipients as “friends” or “colleagues,” or something similar, some of the people sending us this correspondence address us as “Beloveds.” (And yes, this word always seems to be capitalized.)

I’ve spent most of my career in Unitarian Universalist congregations cleaning up after misconduct by professional staff. Most of that misconduct was sexual misconduct, and most of the people perpetrating sexual misconduct were men. I never heard those perpetrators say “Beloved,” but some of them talked rather freely about how much they “loved” “their” congregations, and “their” congregants. (I’m putting the word “their” between quotation marks because that in my experience that sense of possession was also characteristic of sexual misconductors; and unfortunately, the word “Beloved” also carries connotations of possession.)

Now, I understand the intent behind addressing me as a “Beloved.” At least I think I do. I think the person calling me a “Beloved” intends to include me in a “Beloved Community”? Or maybe they just want to signal that love is at the core of Unitarian Universalism? Actually, I’m not real clear on the intent behind calling me a “Beloved.”

But it creeps me out. Yes I know, maybe I have a little bit of secondary trauma from dealing with a number of religious communities that have been traumatized by sexual misconduct. Yes I know, the word “love” in the English language incorporates a whole range of meanings and I don’t need to interpret that word as necessarily creepy. And yes, OK, maybe I’m being oversensitive.

Even so — when I’m addressed in correspondence as “Beloved,” it does creep me out. Once I hit that word, I find I rarely read any further. It just sounds so yucky, and it stops me dead.

Another anniversary

I was talking with someone I know about the deaths of our respective parents. This person’s parents died four and six years ago, and I got the sense they still feel it fairly strongly. My mother died twenty-five years ago today. I thought I’d feel strongly about the twenty-fifth anniversary my mother’s death, but that hasn’t been the case. Of course I still think about her. But twenty-five years is a long time. She died so long ago now that I don’t really remember what she looked like, I mostly just remember what photographs of her look like. And I don’t really remember what she sounded like, I mostly just remember the one audio recording my younger sister made of her. Then too, she had dementia the last few years of her life, so some of my most vivid memories of her are from that time. So, for example, I remember sitting in my parents’ dining room talking to my mother. She obviously had no idea who I was, but was very polite to me. My father walked by, smiled at her, she smiled back. When he was out of earshot, she turned to me and said, “Who was that man?” That kind of memory is more recent and more vivid than most of my other memories of her. I often feel that my memory is unreliable, and perhaps this is one reason why: the memories I wish were most important, and thus most vivid, often seem to get obscured by other memories.