I try to turn being a beggar into a strength, but feel I need to keep it to myself. That is to say, I still pray, long after being disabused of all notions that prayers are answered. I feel weakness in the face of the barterers who have something to trade for whatever it is they want. And I will play their game out of necessity most of the time. But I long for a time when we honored beggars (as they still do in Asia) by freely giving what they require. I have never personally known persons with such a vocation, although a few passing contacts have given me a little first-hand information.

Stories of the uncanny human capacities evidenced by historic figures (and contemporaries as in Somalia) humble my arrogance. Thank you.

I think you’re half right. Stories don’t change people’s beliefs, but people do. It’s easy to believe in the justice of condemning a theoretical, unknown, and villainized person, but it’s much more difficult to condemn an actual person who is sitting in front of you and with whom you have a genuine connection. It’s not the sharing of the information that’s effective, it’s the sharing of the person. And as far as I can tell, it’s the most effective means of bridge building that we have.

I recall learning the difference between industrialism in Europe in the 18th Century–where its finest equipment was marketed to the aristocracy who rewarded most its entertainment features–and Great Britain during the same time–where invention was largely applied to raising the standard of living for the people. I think of that whenever I see someone today on a cell phone talking and saying something equivalent to, “I’m crossing the street now, scratching my nose and blinking my eyes. Oh, and I see a new sports car I wish I could afford.” That always reminds me of the statistic that most of the e-mails over the internet are spam.

Technology is a tool. A tool’s value depends on how it is used. When it is used to turn us into adjuncts for tools, it can be sinister—or hilarious as with Springstein’s “157 channels and nothing’s on.”.

The claimed advantage of having a creed is that it spells out which beliefs are right. Among the several examples in UU history of attempts to require uniformity of belief, I was surprised to learn that William Ellery Channing left the Arlington Street pulpit in Boston when the church’s governing body imposed an oath for new members. Channing’s eminence to the contrary notwithstanding, it was thought better to let him retire than to have new church members with different beliefs.

Can a religious community “agree to disagree”? UUs espouse “unity in diversity.” No creeds. No dogmas. To outsiders that makes UUism a philosophy and not a religion. Yet if gathering for worship rather than belief is the measure of religion, as it is for UUs, then anyone who comes is welcome.

That is not without perplexities, as anyone knows who has encountered the comers who come to convince UUs of their ill adopted ways and see the “better” alternative. One of our clergy who introduced the idea that extensive varieties of worship are possible used to say that he could build a worship experience around any idea. The example he claimed on the occasion was “around that light bulb over there.”

I like the idea that worship can happen at any time and anywhere. My admiration is extended to all who put that into practice.