Remarks from the celebration of the 125th
anniversary of the founding of the First Icelandic Unitarian Society of
Winnipeg delivered at the commemorative service held at First Unitarian
Universalist Church of Winnipeg on Sunday, January 31, 2016. (Part 1 of 4)
Looking over the
memorabilia from past anniversaries, I discovered that there were eight sermons
or addresses – the Icelandic word ræða
can mean either – delivered at the congregation’s 25th anniversary celebration,
which may explain why the event lasted for three hours; there were four sermons
at the 50th anniversary, two sermons at the 75th anniversary, and one sermon
shared by two preachers at the 100th anniversary. And today, there will be one
sermon in two movements. If my projections are correct and, should you happen
to be around for the sesquicentennial – the 150th anniversary – it is my
prediction that either there will be one sermon in four parts or else no sermon
at all. You heard it here first.
When this congregation
marked its 50th anniversary in 1941, our young minister at the time, Philip
Petursson, said, “Nobody knows – or can remotely guess – what the world may be
like a year from today or five years from now. Even the oldest landmarks may
vanish. The ideas and customs and traditions and institutions that now seem to
us most stable may be overturned and destroyed and forgotten. It sometimes
seems as though the one certain thing about life is that it is uncertain, the
one safe prophecy that tomorrow will be so unlike the present that it cannot
possibly be foretold. The one safeguard in such a world,” he continued, “is a
strong, positive religious faith – a deep-rooted conviction that this universe
is more than the battleground of blind, dark, ruthless forces, where the only
thing that counts is brute force and the only arbiter of human destiny is sheer
accident. Over and against any such pitiless view of life,” he said, the
liberal religious person “sets [a] daring affirmation that reason is potentially
stronger than chaos, the human dream of an ideal world as real and powerful as
the law of gravitation, that justice is not an idle and pathetic illusion,
truth no mere will-o’-the-wisp, the ultimate victory of love over hatred, of
goodwill over selfish and cruel impulses, of the divine over the brute within
the soul … is as certain as that tomorrow’s sun will rise or that two and two
make four.”
The second building of the First Icelandic Unitarian Church of Winnipeg, dedicated in 1905. |
The anniversary
celebration was held in June of that year, after the regular church year had
come to a close. These words were especially powerful when you remember that
the world was at war and the conflict wasn’t going particularly well. The
congregation’s leaders weren’t entirely certain that it was even appropriate to
hold a celebration, given everything that was going on. So the tone of the
anniversary was more solemn than celebratory. But the anniversary was marked.
Philip spoke of paying
tribute to the pioneers who had “labored and sacrificed” to plant and maintain
Unitarianism in this city, encouraging freedom of thought, so that the fruits
of our faith would be embodied in lives of character and purpose. And they
really had sacrificed because identifying as a Unitarian in those days was not
without consequences – especially if you happened to be an immigrant.
The thirty-six people who
gathered on February 1st, 1891 to establish the First Icelandic Unitarian
Society of Winnipeg under the leadership of Björn Pétursson and Jennie McCaine
Peterson were indeed pioneers. In defining their purpose as a congregation,
their bond of union affirmed: “In truth and in the spirit of Jesus of Nazareth,
we unite for the service of God and men.” While those words might raise
eyebrows among some Unitarian Universalists today, they were, in the context of
their time, a radically simple and inclusive affirmation. Notwithstanding their
invocation of Jesus, few outside the congregation considered them to be
Christians and, in a time when such things mattered, this meant that their
“otherness” was on display for all to see. A couple of dozen others joined the
initial 36 as charter members.
Together, they laboured on
in following a new pathway in religion while striving to build bridges to their
neighbours. The built a small wooden chapel at the corner of Sherbrook Street
and Pacific Avenue, which they dubbed “Unity Hall,” and it became a gathering
place not only for Unitarians, but also for other groups that had trouble
finding a place to meet, such as the Winnipeg Secular Association.
During its first decade,
the congregation’s membership fluctuated between 60 and 80, although attendance
was always much greater – sometimes reaching a few hundred – and they
persevered, attracting the interest of some bright, young individuals who aimed
to make a difference in the world.
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