Unitarian Congregation in Mississauga

After a long and rewarding term as Minister of the Unitarian Congregation in Mississauga which began in September 1993,  Rev. Jeffrey Brown has resigned effective September, 2011.  We wish him all the best in his future endeavours and express our sincere appreciation for his diligence and passion to UCM.

Our congregation will have a year of lay-led services in 2011-2012, hiring an interim minister in August 2012.  A committee to hire the Interim Minister has been forms and it's work will commence in January 2012, with the hiring of the minister to occur in May 2012.

Below is the final newsletter article from Rev. Jeffery Brown.

Along The Path: Musings from the Minister - June 2011 

Sharing our caring . . . and our good-byes

The end is fast approaching! Don’t worry, I haven’t gone off the deep end. I’m not predicting a fiery Judgment Day: the Earth torn asunder, bodies ascending, and carnage in the streets. This end won’t be the cataclysmic conclusion to everything: the Rapture and end times that Harold Camping has predicted . . . twice. My prophecy will not send me scurrying back to a calculator, needing to check the accuracy of some cosmic calendar.

Our time together, yours and mine, is rapidly nearing its end. Sharing au revoirs, especially after a long and fruitful time, is never simple. As the summer approaches, I am increasingly feeling anticipatory loss. I find myself sometimes with the urge to withdraw, uneasy with my own welling emotions of grief, pain, and emptiness. Saying "good-bye" is never a simple process. It’s laden with layers of feeling.

Many years ago, we committed ourselves to a fidelity of shared ministry as I assumed the mantle of spiritual leadership to this congregation. We have journeyed well together, through meadows of merriment, fields of fear, woodlands of wonder, and pastures of pain. All the time we have travelled forward drawn by one hope and purpose: to build a community where everyone who entered might feel welcomed and a part of the whole and to create a strong congregation where we might change the world for the better.

In our shared pilgrimage we have succeeded in part, failed in some ways, and remained stuck in some places. Now is the time to celebrate our accomplishments while recognizing our foul-ups. Most of all though, it is a time for speaking what we have meant to one another.

There’s a story about a teacher who asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on a sheet of paper, leaving space between each name. Then she requested that they think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. Over the weekend the teacher took the papers and compiled what everyone had written into individual lists. On Monday she gave each student his or her list.

Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!" "I didn’t know others liked me so much," was another comment. No one ever mentioned the papers again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents. It didn’t matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose.

Some years later, one of the students was killed tragically. The teacher attended the service at a church packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was among the last visitors to pass. As she stood there, one of the pallbearers came up to her. "Weren’t you Mark’s math teacher?" he asked. She nodded, and then he said, "Mark talked about you a lot." She stayed for the reception, as did most of Mark’s former classmates. Mark’s mother and father were anxious to speak with his one-time teacher. "We want to show you something," his father said. He unfolded a paper from his wallet. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it." He carefully removed a worn piece of notebook paper that had been taped, folded, and refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the paper was the one where she had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had said about him.

"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark’s mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it." Mark’s former classmates gathered around. Charlie smiled sheepishly and spoke, "I still have my list. It’s in the top drawer of my desk at home." Henry’s wife said, "Henry asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn added. "It’s in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki shared. Without batting an eyelash continued, "I think we all saved our lists."

I invite us all to assemble our lists - and to share them with one another while we still have the time. I look forward to seeing you these last Sundays.

With love,