Service No. 5 -- March 5 at the Philly UU

I could make a hundred excuses for why I haven't attentive to pledge for like three weeks -- and many of them would be valid -- but I'll spare the exercise. Even in my head, it sounds like whining.

Suffice it to say: the fact that I walked into a church on this particular Sunday was something of an upset in itself.

The normal pleasures were there -- music, fresh air, quiet time, smiling people -- as were the usual annoyances -- smiling people, pleas for cash, etc. And I still haven't stood up and introduced myself. They made the same old request, for visitors to stand and give their names and what had brought them into the church that day. One man -- a 50- or 60-year-old black man -- said, "I live just round the corner and I would have come in long ago, but I was afraid somebody was going to make me stand up and introduce myself." That got a big laugh, which made me feel better for a second because others shared my fear. But then it was worse again, because those others overcame it, and I continue to hold back.

So I had to laugh a little inside when I saw the title of the sermon, "Do Not Withhold Yourself." But it turned out to be more about the cash. The minister talked about tithing, and that the old 10 percent standard is no longer realistic. He said 2.5 percent of total income is what the UU church hopes for from its members. Not to totally give away my wretched state, but for me that would be about 13 or 14 bucks a week. It's not an astronomical number. It's certainly better than the 50 to 60 dollars of the old 10-percent expectation, but it puts the weekly cost outside that of a movie. And I like movies a lot. To get my money's worth at 2.5 percent, this place would have to be part of my life in lot more ways than a weekly opportunity to sit and listen, and I have to figure out if I can give enough of myself to get that sort of thing back.

The sermon wasn't just a naked play for money. The minister did soften it with some reason and wisdom. He quoted Joseph Campbell in saying, "Life is perfect -- it's a mess. Our job is to sort out our own lives." I haven't been doing a great job lately.

One more thing: the simple minds out there will advise me to turn my problems over to Jesus, and I wish they just wouldn't. It's been funny to me at other times in my life, but those cow-eyed suggestions lately get under my skin in a way I can't even explain. If you really want to save a soul from eternal damnation, pick on somebody who believes in hell.

My job will again claim my entire weekend, so I'll probably have to wait until the 19th to trudge on. At this rate, my promises wot myself will dissipate in the warming spring of May, but I'm hoping for some breaktrhoughs over the next couple of weeks.