The twelfth gosling

A wisdom story...

It was springtime and a young mother goose had just laid a clutch of twelve very handsome eggs. She and the father goose looked at their eggs admiringly - wondering what future their little goslings would have. They imagined teaching them to fly, helping them to find food, and - when the cold weather came - leading them in the migration to warmer climes.

The goose parents took turns sitting on the eggs to keep them warm. As they waited, they thought about the future of their goslings - wondering how many would be female and how many male - thinking of the day that they would themselves learn to fly and maybe even have goslings of their own.

Day in and day out they carefully tended the eggs. A week passed, and then another, and another. And then one day, after nearly five long weeks, as the father sat on the eggs he heard a faint pecking sound. And then another from another egg. As he moved to look, he saw tiny beaks appearing from two of the eggs.

The process of hatching was not easy. It was arduous work for the babies and they needed to rest often between bouts of pecking. After three days, though, eleven of the goslings were finally out of their shells.

But the twelfth egg was a bit odd. The gosling in that egg had pecked a hole large enough to get out of, stuck his head out, and then return to the shell! The goslings were all peeping in hunger, so father goose went to get food. When he returned, he and mother fed their little goslings - eleven of them standing on their feet and the twelfth still in his shell.

The goose parents began to be a bit concerned about number 12. They pecked the shell a bit. They tried to lure him out with food. But number 12 was set on staying put.

Weeks passed and the goslings all began to grow rapidly. Number 12 finally got so large that his shell could hold him no longer - as it burst, he joined his brothers and sisters walking around in the nest. And it was good timing too, because flying lessons were just beginning!

Mother and father goose showed their goslings how to flap their little wings and they took to it eagerly - practicing their flapping for minutes at a time, resting, and then flapping some more.

All except number 12, that is. Number 12 showed no interest in flapping or in flying.

At last, eleven goslings were ready and they took flight. It was an exhilarating experience for all of them and they returned excited and happy. Number 12 seemed unmoved. He instead took a walk to find some tasty grubs to eat and he thought to himself "that flying looks way too dangerous." I'm just fine staying here on the ground where it's safe.

As time passed, eleven goslings flew more and more and were eventually ready to leave the nest. Number 12 remained with his mother and father. They were happy to have him, but they worried about his future and what might become of him - a goose who would not fly.

And then, the days began to become shorter and colder. Mother and father goose prepared themselves for the long flight south. What would happen with number 12?

Mother and father took off and waved their wings good-by to number 12. Moments later, they heard an anguished squawking from the vicinity of the nest!

They turned back to see a hungry looking fox just inches away from number 12. They swooped down just in time, and as mother goose distracted the fox, father goose lifted number 12 into the air and carried him off. As soon as 12 was safe, mother flew to join father and 12.

What to do now? 12 was simply too heavy to carry all the way on the migration journey, but if his parents left him behind, he would surely perish.

They took turns carrying him - using all of their strength. But it was no use. Exhausted, father goose finally lost his grip and number 12 tumbled from the sky.

The parents were distraught. They had lost their dear gosling. They began to weep and other geese in the flock came to comfort them.

And then suddenly, there was a surprising sound. Honk, honk! - they heard behind them. And there they saw number 12 flying along happily to catch up with them. He seemed perfectly joyful. The parents were shocked but delighted

And as number 12 flew along he thought to himself "I nearly lost my life by trying to be too safe - I will never make that mistake again!"

Number 12 went on to have a happy and adventurous life and became a father many times over before he passed away, content, at a ripe old age.

A church thriving through the ‘tension between certainty and ambiguity’

This article was written by journalist student Zay Arguelles. I thank her for taking such care in getting it right and for letting me share her writing.



The banner in front of the Unity Church in Upper Street is sure to catch every passer-by’s attention. “Heathens and heretics welcome!”, it says in big bold letters. This phrase is not something normally associated with a church, if at all. But then, churches don’t normally have an atheist minister.

Rev. Andrew Pakula is from America and he came here six years ago to head the Unitarian churches in Upper Street and Newington Green. He earned a PhD in Biology from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and joined the biotechnology industry. Eventually, he left his career as a scientist to pursue a ministerial vocation. Nonetheless, he remained an atheist and even anti-religious in some ways.

A common way of dividing the world is into the religious and the atheist. Here arises the conflict between Rev. Andy’s stance about faith and religion and his job. It is intriguing or rather confusing because of the whole baggage of stereotypes associated with religion. On the contrary, he said that the word religion can mean a bunch of different things and “Depending on how you use that and what you consider to be a religion, it can be quite different.”

When you look at the fundamental core of Unitarianism the fog of confusion starts to evaporate. Rev. Andy said, “I call it a ‘way’. Let’s call it a way. It’s not ‘We are all going to believe the same thing’. It’s about moving together, growing together, working together and making ourselves grow and the world more whole”. It’s clear that the emphasis of Unitarianism lies on being a better person, being in a community and making a better world without the dogma.

As it seems, Unitarians are encouraged to ‘believe what they want to believe’ but Rev. Andy differs. He argued that this is very different from ‘believing what your search or journey leads you to believe’, which is what they do. He explained further by saying “Personally, I want to believe in all-powerful supernatural being that will take care of all of us. I really do! I would love to believe that. That is what I want to believe but it is NOT what I can believe. What my search has lead me to believe is that everyone is sacred, that we are all connected and that we’re here to make each other more whole and happier. That’s were a search has led me to and it might change.”

Just like any other institutions, Unitarianism doesn’t go without criticisms. Many people say that this kind of open-minded religion is not sufficient for people who are really suffering. In response, Rev. Andy said he doesn’t mind other beliefs. “Even if I don’t think it’s true, I think any belief is fine as long as it encourages you to be kind, loving and compassionate.” Certainly, it has also been criticised for being too open - “Whenever you are not a doctrinaire... If there is any flexibility, they will say ‘Well, that’s too flexible’. ” This isn’t a problem for them though, as they identify Unitarianism to be in the grey area in the first place.

With this kind of openness, a lot of barriers and differences can exist. The minister admitted that when he does a service he always tries to use languages which are inclusive to all sorts of beliefs. He said there’s a range of people within the congregation but since they’re all rather open-minded it’s really hard for them to have conflicts.

As he tries to explain how the congregation works for very different people, he grabbed a box of power cord beside him and said “There are people who receive a package and the first thing they do is read the instruction from the first letter to the last letter and maybe read it twice. And other people just plug it in.” He then continued about how they created “a thing with very open sort of steps” – “Decide for yourself how you’re going to be a compassionate consumer, write it down, and commit to it.”

Although very different from the traditional types of religion, Unitarianism remains attached to a certain label or ‘ism’ and that comes as a challenge. Rev. Andy recognises that it is very hard to be associated with the stereotypes, especially in this country “where a lot of people want nothing to do with anything that looks, smells, or tastes like religion.” On the other hand, people need categories to think about things and Unitarianism is commonly dropped on the religious category because what else would you call it or how else would you present it? It cannot be avoided but he also doesn’t mind. In the end, he doesn’t care whether they are called a religion or not – “If people don’t want to call it religion because, by their definition, religion has to have central beliefs, then fine... It’s not a religion. I don’t care. It’s a way of being.”

With the Unitarians’ position between the religious and secular sphere, he said that “It’s very comfortable for me to remember that things are changing and we’re always midstream, somewhere. We are in the process of changing from one thing to another and we don’t know what that other thing is yet or how the world is going to change around us. What we do is stay with it, ride with it, recognise the ambiguity and keep going.”

We live in a society where everything is polarized and it is easier to identify things as black or white. But in reality, the world we live in is very much within the grey scale. There is no one truth and certainly nobody holds a monopoly on what it is. Unitarianism reflects that fact and allows individuals to live in harmonious disagreement within a community with a system that supports them into becoming the best person they can be. In the advent of increasing religious scepticism and secularism, it is indispensable that such institutions exist. Whether it comes in the form of Unitarianism or not, it’s good to know that it is there for those who need it.

A Growing Congregation

The Newington Green and Islington Unitarians in north London, the congregation of which I am the minister, held its new member recognition service yesterday and formally welcomed all of the 22 new members who joined over the past 12 months. 22! The congregation, which numbered 6 members eight years ago, now consists of 84 members. Over the past 3.5 years alone, we have grown at a rate of 35%-40% each year!

And the congregation is young. In a recent congregational survey, we found that 58% are between 18 and 40 years old. (38% are between 18 and 30.) Women outnumber men, but not dramatically so: 44% of our members are male.

This is not at all the normal profile for a liberal congregation - and we are extremely liberal. If we were typical, we would be tiny and shrinking further, very elderly, and at least two thirds of us would be women.

Between 1989 and 2005, church attendance in the UK has declined an average of 34%. Liberal religions have experienced the greatest decline (e.g the URC with -53%) while attendance for the most conservative groups has increased (e.g. Pentecostal +22%).

Yesterday, a new visitor to the congregation asked me what accounts for our success. I hesitated. I can't point to any single factor. We do not have lots of money and we do not have fabulous facilities. When we began to grow, we didn't have any young people. We didn't even have an experienced minister and we barely have one now! We're growing because people want what we have and because we're not invisible. And so, as I said to my questioner, the better question is why any Unitarian congregation in an vital urban setting is not growing.

You see, we know that - despite the drastic decline in participation in traditional religion - the spiritual impulse remains prevalent and strong. But today, people don't want to be told what to believe, they refuse to swallow the fantastic miracle stories that are often requirements for entry, they don't want some detached hierarchy in charge of their community, and they have no taste for seemingly arbitrary rules.

And so, instead of traditional religion, people in huge number try to meet this need through a wide range of good and not so good avenues that are collectively labeled 'spirituality': yoga, meditation, ecstatic dance, past life regression, homeopathy, angels, sweat lodges, reiki, chanting, etc. The list goes on and on.

And people have varying levels of success in finding spiritual sustenance in these pursuits. What is lacking in so many of 'spiritual but not religious' alternatives is a supportive community. Unitarianism at its best offers each person the freedom to explore and seek their own spiritual paths and truths. Importantly, it does this in the context of a community that stays with you and supports you no matter where that path leads you. That unconditional spiritual acceptance and support is unique. It is also exactly what millions of people want to find.

So, I ask, how can such a congregation in a populous urban context fail to grow?

If we make our congregations visible and stop doing the things that drive people away (such as bad worship, unfriendliness, conflict, cliquishness, and a tendency to be more academic than spiritual), our congregations will grow.


Lest I be accused of being too modest [there's a first time for everything!], I am happy to admit that I have had a lot to do with my congregation's growth. It is not that I am the greatest preacher in the world, the greatest pastoral caregiver, or the greatest leader of programmes. I think that I have excelled, however, in helping my congregation to be unafraid.

And we have been bold indeed! We have been unusually open about who we are and what we stand for. We have been bold in our welcome of new people - not hesitant to open our doors and hearts despite the risk. We have been bold in our banners and posters which do not hesitate to say exactly what we think. We have been unafraid to tell our community that we are here:  fear of being labeled as pushy takes a back seat to our passion to offer our a spiritual home to anyone who wants it. We are bold in our social witness, in which we have decried what we see as intolerance wherever it arises, unafraid that some other group may take offense. We have been bold in putting our financial interests well behind our commitment to justice, as we pledged not to perform any legal marriages until we can do the same for all couples - straight and gay. We have been bold in welcoming all kinds of groups and programmes in our buildings - relishing the diversity this brings and putting aside the natural fear of 'the other'. We have been bold in the events we have put on - mounting an enormous programme for our tercentenary and then another one shortly thereafter to mark the 250th anniversary of the birth of Mary Wollstonecraft.

As I look back on what we have done, I find myself amazed. I wonder how we could have been so bold in our actions. What could possibly have lead us to take on enormous challenges with a very good chance that we would fail?

We are driven by two things. The first is our vision - a powerful vision of our responsibility for helping to heal this broken world and bring tolerance and love. The second can best be described using a very traditional word with which some of us might even be uncomfortable. That word is faith. As irrational as it may have been, our diverse congregation with all its many different beliefs (and lack thereof) is nonetheless filled with a powerful, vitalizing, transforming faith.

There is a place for a radically inclusive faith. There is a tremendous power in this way of being religious that can overcome the cynicism, selfishness, despondency, and materialism of the day. As John Murray, 18th century American Universalist pioneer urged:

"Give the people … something of your new vision. You may possess only a small light, but uncover it, let it shine, use it in order to bring more light and understanding to the hearts and minds of [humankind]."

Have faith.

Living trustfully

I have been watching a variety of people trying to make decisions or reacting to some unexpected event that comes their way. Despite the enormous similarities of our needs, our desires, our sorrows, and our dreams, we can be remarkably different when faced with some very common situations.

One type of person seem to fret about every detail of every option. Nothing is complete unless it is absolutely perfect, with every possibility and eventuality considered, every option compared and analyzed - and often re-analyzed again and again. Every greeting is suspect, every offer a likely deception. To this person, the worst case is the only case worth considering. To such a person, the world is a uniformly dangerous place, with threats hidden at every turn.

And then, there are those people who walk through their lives more lightly. Decisions are made and allowed to pass by. If it wasn't perfect, so what? Life is not met with scrutiny and a dubious spirit. Everything that comes their way is a new possibility - a gift to be considered and perhaps explored.

The first type of person - the person who lives with more scrutiny - might get slightly better deals on their purchases. They probably get fooled a bit less. They might even make fewer bad decisions than the second type. They are careful. If they were a ship, they would put up only a tiny sail, and then, only rarely, when the winds seem just perfect. Their journey is safe, but slow. Many opportunities are missed in the interest of safety or perfection.

But the second type of person - the person who lives with trust - is a broad sail that catches more of the wind's power. This person may get buffeted about a bit more often - and may even get tipped over occasionally. But, the trusting or faithful person goes further and faster. The wind - the world - is their friend, their gift, their treasure.

At my best, I am the broad sail allowing the flow of the universe and the spirit to carry me forward. At my worst, I keep my sails furled in fear.

Congregations are like this too - and so are many secular organizations. You can tell one from the other by the way they make decisions. The untrusting congregation inspects every new idea intensively, looking for the flaws, looking for the downsides, looking for reasons to say "no." The default is "no" unless they can be convinced that the initiative is completely lacking in all flaws. They say "no" because "there's too much going on already." They say "no" because "we tried it before and it didn't work." They say "no" because "we haven't known him/her long enough to trust." They say no because "we need to conserve our resources carefully. They say "no" because the world is a frightening place and because "no" is always safer in the short term.

The trusting congregation receives a new idea or initiative with joy. It opens wide that big sail and stows it only in the most ferocious of storms. Their default is "yes."  New ideas are supported unless they are obviously opposed to the mission or values of the congregation. If it is not a dangerous squall, each new breeze is recognized as the life-giving spirit it truly is and the ship moves forward.

No doubt there are inborn tendencies that dispose some of us toward an anxious lack of trust or to take a faithful, trusting, open-sailed approach to life. Sadly, many have had experiences in life that taught them to fear the coming breeze. It is my deepest hope that we can all learn to open our sails - even if just a bit more each day - and harvest the full bounty that this universe offers.

To the extent I can choose, I know which kind of ship I will be. Full sail ahead!