Words matter. The words we say form the intentions toward the actions we will take. Actions repeated become our habits, and habits form our character. Our character is where our personality meets the world. It is the well we draw on when we are faced with a crisis or are asked to make a weighty decision. It is the final backstop when we are about to do something we should not. The words we say to one another matter, for they are part of our moral selves.

Next Sunday, during my installation as the twelfth minister of First Unitarian Church, you and I will say some words to each other. These words will form the act of installation, the ritual act which confirms our ministry together as this particular church and this particular minister. These words will not be the ministry, but they will form intentions toward our ministry. The words we say matter.

I have been looking through the Church's archives to learn what past ministers said at this moment. Barbara Merritt promised to provide leadership, compassion, counsel, steadfastness, and dedication. She promised to love and care for the parish--not just the people who attend or join this church, but the community all around us whom we serve--and to witness our faith to the world.

Wallace Robbins promised to study holy things, to help the church comfort all souls, to be diligent in prayer, and to fear no person and bow before no power save the power of God. He promised to be faithful in his work so that together he and the church might live in quietness, peace and love.

Tom Schade promised to preach truth in freedom, to minister in times of joy and times of sorrow, and to live so as to show forth the religious way of life. He promised to help everyone understand love and beauty. You were served well and faithfully by these ministers, as they lived into their words.

You yourselves promised things at each of these occasions. You promised to cultivate ways of reason, freedom and spiritual fulfillment among all people. You promised to follow the guidance your minister gave, provided it was given in faith, hope and love. You promised to walk in a ministry to all souls and a devotion to the Most High. You acknowledged that any ministry is grounded in ancient custom, and mutual bonds of loyalty and trust.

I know that there were moments when the promises between the minister and the church were strained or broken. I know there were times when these words seemed distant, because no promise stands up perfectly against our imperfect human practice. The ministry of the pulpit and pew are both human endeavors, and human endeavors are riddled with mistakes, apologies, forgiveness, and an effort to try again. This truth makes our words all the more important, because they remind us of the ideal we have promised ourselves to. They remind us of the presence of the Holy, which holds us in our struggles and calls us back to our best selves again.

Promises are words. What we promise is not extraordinary effort or the performance of a miracle. We will make our promises real as the result of habit, habits of heart and practice that turn our lives toward service to one another and service to the Most High. The moment of the promise on May 3 will be momentous, but what will matter even more is the daily, weekly, and yearly habits of joy as we live them out.

In faith,

Rev. Sarah Stewart