CUUPS Bulletin - Dec. 2009

In the late summer of 1998 I first met Kevin Drewery. He and I happened to join the Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring (UUCSS) at the same time. We were invited to the home of Lucile Rowe and William Hartung for dinner, among other introductory experiences for newcomers to the church at that time. Kevin is more than ten years younger than I, but we hit it off immediately. Over appetizers, we were each asked to explain why we had joined the church. For me this was simple, I am a fourth generation, life-long Unitarian. I had bought a house nearby. I was struggling with a recently diagnosed chronic illness and, because of this experience, I realized how much I needed the church community.

Kevin's story was much different than mine. He put his hands in his lap and closed his eyes and begun to speak in a soft voice. Clearly this was difficult for him. He said he had grown up in a conservative Christian church and, as a gay man, he found that there was no place for him there. He told about angrily deciding that he was an atheist and wanted nothing more to do with religion. But when he read about atheism he realized that this was not who he was at all, and he needed to find out what he believed. He had found his way to Pan-Pagan gatherings, and through that experience, found out that Unitarian-Universalism might be a place where he would be accepted. He said he had learned about the Gaia Circle at UUCSS and was interested in participating.

Lucile said that he would be welcome in the Gaia Circle. I chimed in that I was already talking with folks in Gaia Circle about a Samhain service for the entire church at Halloween. William explained the church's welcoming policy, talked a little about how it had been established, and assured Kevin that he need not worry about being accepted as a gay man.

Taking this in, Kevin relaxed and became cheerful and talkative through dinner. Because of all that I know about him at this time, I understand what a milestone this was in his life. He had found a home. Unitarian-Universalism was a place where he could be who he was and explore his own beliefs without fear.

There was one more hurdle to cross. He had not yet openly said that he was HIV positive. But that happened shortly afterwords. It was at a church meeting shortly after we joined where the hiring of a new minister was discussed. Kevin stood up and said that as an HIV positive gay man, the welcoming atmosphere of the church was extremely important to him, and he wanted us to keep that in mind in the hiring of the new minister. Kevin told the congregation exactly what he was coping with. The sky did not fall.

From that point on, I never heard Kevin speak with any trepidation about who he was, what he believed, or the spiritual paths he chose to explore. He spoke boldly about his concerns and the events in his life. He was finding his public speaking voice, and discovering that he had a talent for getting people to listen. But, though he had plenty in his life to be militant about, and certainly could speak passionately when the occasion demanded it, he never came across as an angry militant. He found ways to temper his speech with humor, and to deal with difficult issues without being confrontational. He had a way of drawing people in and taking them along the road of experience and discovery with him. A public voice that many ministers study long and hard to achieve came to Kevin as a natural inborn talent.

Kevin and I did become involved with the church's Samhain service led by members of the Gaia Circle. We took the chairs in the sanctuary and arranged them in a circle around an altar loaded with pumpkins, gourds, and photographs of people who had passed on. We called the quarters. I gave a few introductory remarks to help the congregation along to a type of service many had never seen before. We gave a service for the dead. In the sanctuary hang quilts with the names of church members who have passed away and we used these as a jumping off point to bring the congregation into a celebration of a place between worlds where the dead and the living can touch. It was Kevin who brought a small three legged cauldron and invited people to come to the microphone, speak the name of someone who had died, and put a slip of paper bearing the name of the person they had honored into the cauldron. I think at this point we of Gaia Circle all held our breaths to see what kind of a response we would get to a ritual that was wholly new to a large part of the participants. People lined up and spoke names into the microphone, more and more came, until nearly everyone had come up to name a loved one and place a slip of paper in the cauldron. The Gaia Circle ended the service with music and dancing, and the congregation danced in the sanctuary. It was clear that we were a hit.

We could not have a fire in the cauldron in the sanctuary, so at the end, those who wished to followed Kevin out into the churchyard and watched him set fire to the slips of paper in the cauldron. Before the service, Kevin had put alcohol and epsom salts into the cauldron that now made a cool, safe, blue flame. Some slips of burning paper floated up on the heat and momentarily escaped the cauldron. Kevin stood there carefully making sure that all the slips of paper were thoroughly burned to ash.

I remember this detail, as the full carrying out of the ritual was so important to Kevin, and this proved true in other instances. This man, who had so recently explored being an atheist, was now fully committed to developing his own set of Pagan rituals, and pursued them passionately both in the larger plan for service and the minute details of ritual practice. He took turns leading rituals for Gaia Circle. He became a Ord Brighideach keeper of Brigid's Flame. He became involved in the Pagan-friendly interfaith conference Ecumenicon. He made candles that he sold at the church art fair, each with a carefully hand braided wick, with color symbolism he would explain to the buyer.

But in every way that Kevin was Pagan, he was also a committed Unitarian-Universalist. The church had given him ground to stand on to explore his own beliefs in an atmosphere of acceptance and support. Now the desire to make the church his vocation by becoming involved in religious education, and later to enter seminary at Starr King, took Kevin far away from UUCSS. He and I lost touch. We were each busy in our own lives. But I knew he was out there, pursuing his path, on his way to becoming a Unitarian-Universalist minster. Until July 4, this year, eleven years from when Kevin and I first met, when I learned that he was dying of PML, a rare neurological illness related to his HIV.

I am sad and I am angry to lose this important developing voice in Unitarian-Universalism. He was on a path towards a career that would certainly have made a difference. We need ministers who can speak to the growing population of people following Earth-centered spiritual paths, both inside and outside Unitarian-Universalism. We need ministers who can speak compassionately about the need for gay, lesbian, bi, and transgender individuals to have a stigma-free religious education and place of worship; communities where they need not fear for their safety; and a society where they are given equal rights. We need leaders who can talk to young people about protecting themselves from HIV, and get them to listen - something Kevin did every chance he got. We also need ministers who can explain to people, in all good fun, why works like the Harry Potter books contain enduring spiritual power and messages of social inclusiveness. We need ministers with the kind of humor, courage, and compassion that Kevin brought to his spiritual message. But sadly, we have to let him go and find some way for his voice and his message to continue.

Stephanie A. Hall
Takoma Park, MD