UNITARIAN UNIVERSALIST FELLOWSHIP OF CHARLOTTE COUNTY
"A Sense of Place"
Rev. Samuel A. Trumbore January 30th, 1994

Did you know that miraculous stories were part of our Universalist heritage? Well they are! The first sermon preached by John Murray is one such story.

When John Murray landed at Good Luck on Barnegat Bay in New Jersey in 1770, he was seeking to escape the sorrows and defeats of his former life in England. Reared in England and Ireland by Calvinistic parents, he became attracted to Methodism, acquainted with John Wesley. It was on his move to London that Murray learned of the theological views of James Relly, who was preaching universal salvation. Relly was constantly held up to opprobrium in the sermons from the pulpit of the Methodist tabernacle Murray attended. So insistent were the suggestions that anyone who believed that all men would be saved must be capable of all sorts of loose living and vileness, that Murray and his wife could not resist the temptation to attend a Relly meeting and see for themselves. Instead of loose living they found a starkly simple meeting house and a sober congregation. They became devoted adherents.

Murray's enthusiasm for universal salvation didn't save him from a trip to debtor's prison. The death of his wife and baby drove him to the New World in 1770 with the full intention of forgetting his past and never preaching again.[1]

His ship was becalmed in Cranberry Inlet on Barnegat Bay, so he came ashore at Good Luck to see America. Not far from the coast he happened upon a small meeting house and discovered an old man named Thomas Potter. Potter had been converted to the idea of universal salvation by German Dunkers from Pennsylvania. Potter had a vision that he must build a church for a Universalist minister who would come to him from the sea. You might imagine his excitement when Murray came knocking at his door.

Well Murray, still in a melancholy mood, was not interested in preaching in Potter's church. Potter pleaded with him but to no avail. Murray returned to his vessel.

But perhaps the spirits in the unseen realms that guide the winds had some other ideas. The boat sat becalmed for the next three days. Finally Murray had a change of heart. He decided he would preach his first sermon on universal salvation in the New World in Potter's church. The next day the winds came up and the vessel was on its way.

I have been to Potter's Meeting House which is adjacent to a Unitarian Universalist retreat center called Murray Grove. I went to junior high camp for three wonderful summers in 1970, 71, 72. Although probably remodeled many times, it still remains small. I remember standing up in the pulpit and pretending I was John Murray preaching universal salvation. There was a sense of place that still warms me as I remember that spot surrounded by ancient tombstones and a rough-cut wooden fence. Even the bats in the belfry seemed to have their own story to tell.

The attraction to specific sacred locations goes back before recorded history. Our earliest record of civilization comes from sacred paintings on cave walls. We know primitive cultures worshipped a sacred mountain or river or grove of trees. The Greeks thought Mount Olympus was the home of the Gods. The Jews, Mount Zion. The waters of the Ganges is considered sacred by Hindus. The pagans of yesterday and today perform rituals amongst the trees.

While in Ireland on a cool and misty July morning in 1991, Philomena and I visited New Grange. New Grange is a man-made cave on top of a hill, built over 5000 years ago out of huge slabs of rock and earth carefully positioned to make a waterproof interior dome maybe 12 feet high. This earthwork was huge and must have taken a great amount of effort to build. Some of the rock used had been transported 30 or 40 miles. The entrance had been designed so that on the solstice in December, the sun would shine in the entrance and hit the back wall of an interior chamber - an amazing feat of engineering for a primitive people. There can be no doubt that this place had tremendous importance for the people who worked so hard to construct it.

Before the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in the year 70 of the common era, it served as the center of the universe for the Jewish people for a millennia. Even when first constructed by Solomon, the temple by any measure of the day was an awesome structure, 52 feet high, 105 feet long and 35 feet wide. The general populace had access only to the courtyards, because the Jews believed the temple was the residence of God. Even the priests had restricted access. Once a year on the day of atonement, the priest would enter the inner sanctum, the holy of holies, pray for his people and listen for the word of God. Now that's sacred space!

I have had the good fortune to travel to Europe with my family in my youth. The places we visited that stick out in my mind are the cathedrals. Even as a child, perhaps because I was a child, I found myself transported as I would step inside. The beauty of the stained glass windows, the ceiling reaching up towards the sky, the wonderful echoes, the vastness of the enclosed space, all this created a feeling of being in a sacred space. I pondered the swirling currents of humanity that had moved down the center aisle in the years since the building had been constructed. One of the qualities of sacred space is that it seems to transcend time, connecting the past, present and future.

Such structures are testaments of faith by their builders and the community that provided the energy and resources. Once built, they become powerful vehicles for the propagation of that faith. Even though some of us would hesitate to use the term "sacred", Unitarian Universalists also appreciate old buildings. If you attend a 300-year-old church in New England or a 100-year- old one in California, you will see that buildings do matter to us as well. The congregation I belonged to in Oakland has a magnificent sanctuary made of granite and redwood dating from the 1890's which has stood up to several major earthquakes. It would be much cheaper for the congregation to sell the building and relocate to another area rather than attempt to maintain such an aging structure. Yet the members are now investing millions of dollars to renovate it - not following their wallets but their hearts. I think if you saw it and felt the history there, you'd be persuaded too.

Well, we have few 100-year-old buildings around here. One of the things I dislike about living here in Florida, and I disliked about living in California, is that everything is new. There is little sense of architectural history. Few were born here and not many more have been here more than twenty years. No generation has grown up here and claimed it as their birthright. Thank goodness for Punta Gorda. We at least have some shred of history there. And they even have sidewalks. I never realized how much I took sidewalks for granted until I came here. We are fortunate to have one across the street on Forrest Nelson.

People come to this community to retire or seek their fortune and, I suspect, don't have this sense of place about Charlotte County. It feels more like the frontier down here. Sure, one can keep oneself very busy with many activities, but at the end of the day one can feel disconnected with this place, while renting someone else's house if you are a seasonal visitor. There is no sense of historical tradition to join.

One of the joys for me moving down here has been that I do have a sense of place right here. I belong to this beautiful parcel of land. I feel a much stronger sense of place here than I do in the home we rent. This place is my center, an anchor around which my life now revolves. I know others in this congregation feel this way as well. Those who put your blood and sweat into this soil, those who care for its maintenance, and those who have laid relatives to rest here, appreciate this spot beyond its simple utility.

We will be discussing plans for building expansion soon and I hope that you can keep some of these perspectives in your mind. This place is more than an activity center, it is the home of Unitarian Universalism in Charlotte County. We are so much more than a loose association of people who feel the need for entertainment on Sunday morning.

This building is the center of a religious community. This is our temple. This is our cathedral. This is our sacred grove. How we revere this little plot of land shapes our identity. Do we want to invite young families with children into this space? Do we want to include a lanai to bring our inner space closer to the outer space? What is our vision for this space in ten years? What size is right for us before we spin off a new congregation? I encourage you to review the provisional goals for the congregation that came out of the start-up weekend we had in November as reprinted in your papers for the annual meeting.

One of the concerns I expect to be expressed, and rightly so, about enlarging our building to have more space for religious education of children is the absence of children in our congregation (save Andy). Well, just because you don't see them, doesn't mean they aren't there. I have spoken with several parents who are very interested in programs for their children. We have two new members with young children. We have visitors with children who ask about religious education. There are 14,000 children attending schools in Charlotte County. If one percent might be inclined toward U.U.ism, that would be 140 children! Is it unreasonable to assume we could start a program with 20? Would 20 kids tax the space we already have?

Think on Thomas Potter, a man so inspired by the vision of a God giving us all redemption from sin and the promise of universal salvation out of love for us all. Potter built his church, believing one day a great minister would come and pass on his faith. He didn't know that I would one day sit in the church he built, straining my senses to hear the echoes of Murray's first sermon. He had no idea I'd be inspired to stand in that pulpit as a boy and preach my first attempt at a sermon on universal salvation. This place here in Port Charlotte is the vessel of our tradition and our vision for the world. Who knows who shall stand here where I stand today and carry on the voice of liberal religion seven generations from now.

This is an important meeting today because we can use this opportunity to start making concrete, steel, glass, screen and wood our visions for this congregation. I encourage you to stay and express yourself on the issue. This is our sacred space. This is our spiritual home in Port Charlotte. Let your vision of what we can be guide you as we conduct our twenty-fifth Annual meeting.

Copyright (c) 1995 by Rev. Samuel A. Trumbore, All rights reserved.