William Henry Grey (better known as W. H. G.) Carter was born in Arkansas in 1877. His father was an AME pastor, and his mother was active in the church school. Carter attended Shorter University and then enlisted and served in the army. In 1899, he married his wife, Beulah, the woman who would bear them 15 children, and hold their family together for the next 60 years.

In 1918, Carter founded the Church of the Unitarian Brotherhood at 732 W. Fifth Street in Cincinnati's West End. As his grandson, Leslie Edwards, said to me this past week, "That address means something to people around here. 732 W. Fifth Street was the poorest part of the city." Carter rented the building himself and took neither salary nor collections. Carter led protests in the city advocating food and shelter for the poor. He helped people who could not read or write enroll onto welfare. Church membership never seemed to rise above 60 members, yet Carter continued to hold services advocating faith in the oneness of God, as well as a God of love and reason.

Carter loved God, and honored the great teacher Jesus, but he was not a Christian, and said so in strong language. His autobiography, My Father's Business, written shortly before his death in 1962, is a powerful pronouncement of a provocative faith. His theology brought him into conflict with his family and community. As one of our teenagers noted, he was a minority within a minority within a minority. His race made him a minority within the country, his faith made him a minority within the black community, and his race made him a minority within Unitarianism. It must have been a long, lonely journey.

In 1938, a young Unitarian minister by the name of Felix Lion stumbled across the Church of the Unitarian Brotherhood. In conversations with the two local Unitarian ministers, Reverend Malick of First Church, and Reverend Krolfifer of St. John's, Lion discovered that both knew about the church. Neither Malick nor Krolfifer, nor their predecessors, had ever informed the American Unitarian Association of the existence of this congregation because "the church was located in the wrong place" and "that anyway it didn't amount to much." Members of the church were described as "not very intelligent." After an official visit and review in 1939, the American Unitarian Association chose to give Carter nothing, neither affiliation, money, nor respect. At this time, Carter's congregation had existed, on its own, throughout the Depression, for more than twenty years.

As Unitarian Universalists, we have long prided ourselves on our use of reason, freedom, tolerance, and love. We take pride in our abolitionist and civil rights reformers, and they are certainly part of our history, as is the treatment of W. H. G. Carter. In his book, Black Pioneers in a White Denomination, The Reverend Mark D. Morrison-Reed outlines a pattern of subtle racism and exclusion that applied to non-white members in this white denomination. This pattern lingers and wounds today.

Some people have asked why we are doing this. Even Carter's son, Ernest, has even said that we did nothing different from any other church in that day, and thank you, Ernest, for being gracious. Yet, the truth is that we did not live into our professed values. We cannot know ourselves, and our potential for good and evil, until we learn the truth. We cannot heal a world broken by ignorance and intolerance, until we face our own. This community of faith (not random individuals but as this beloved community) cannot actively help the city of Cincinnati (as we wish to do) until we know all that we bring to the table.

Therefore, I humbly ask the members of the Carter family to accept, as you are able, our sincere apology. On behalf of First Unitarian Church, Northern Hills Fellowship, and the Unitarian Universalist Association, I apologize for the neglect and disrespect of The Reverend W. H. G. Carter. We were wrong and we are sorry. We are called to do great things. We have much yet to do.

The legacy of W. H. G. and Beulah Carter though, is much larger than the wrongs done to them. W. H. G. Carter reminds us to uphold our principles, to use reason, and to love God with all our heart and all our mind. Beulah Carter, who was not a Unitarian, and who formed her own non-denominational, Christian congregation, reminds us that it is possible to love and be devoted to, to work in partnership with, a person who has a different faith.

I cannot leave my remarks this morning without some more words about Beulah Carter, who holds a cherished place within the Carter family. Beulah bore the brunt of W. H. G. Carter's anger and frustration with life, which must have been a burden. But Beulah was an extraordinary woman with a great heart. Forty-six years after stumbling across the Church of the Unitarian Brotherhood, Felix Lion wrote, "All I can really remember is the warm, motherly figure, Mrs. Carter." Forty-six years later, all he could remember was Beulah. As Leslie recalls "If she saw you she hugged you, if she hugged you she kissed you, and she always knew your name." W. H. G. was stern and principled and Beulah was warm and loving. Both did the best they could in a confusing, difficult world. May our labor here this morning honor the dignity of their lives, faith, family, and all they held dear.

My name is Starita Ann Smith. I am a great-granddaughter of the Rev. William Henry Gray and Beulah Beatrice Carter. I am a granddaughter of James Edward Carter and his first wife, Addie Irby Carter. I am the daughter of Velma Anita Carter and Charles Thomas Smith.

I tell you my lineage with great pride. I also tell you because everyone at Carter family events frequently has to say who their parents and grandparents are, so other Carters will know who they are. Even though our numbers are great, we are all Carters, and that means something specific and life-affirming to all of us and helps determine how we see ourselves as human beings. Our shared identity has everything to do with the principles and the struggles of W.H.G. and Beulah Carter.

Back in the 50s when I was a little girl, my mother taught me that to be a Carter was to be proud of being a Negro. This was before there was any black power or black pride movement in this country. This was before it was popular for black people to appreciate themselves and find glory in our contribution to the rich tapestry of humanity. Talk about racial reconciliation. We Carters are European, Native American and African.

We are 15 different colors, but we are one family.

In recent years, there has been a wave of apologies to black people for everything from slavery to neglect of Africa. The reaction among many blacks to groups like the Southern Baptists, a denomination founded on the support of slavery, apologizing for the past have been mixed. We read the headlines and we say, "So what changes now?" Many black people know that race is still a factor in nearly every option we have in life -- how we earn our living, where we live, what house or car we can buy, how our children are educated, where we go to church, or whether we eschew church altogether.

I look at efforts like this W.H.G. Carter Reconciliation Weekend here in Cincinnati as different from the rest of the apologies, perhaps because I expect more from Unitarians than Southern Baptists. You are supposed to be the most liberal of the mainstream denominations. It is very meaningful to me that you took the initiative to acknowledge a history that must be embarrassing for you, and to attempt to make amends in the present for what was wrong in the past. We Carters commend you on your apology.

But we must also acknowledge that racial reconciliation, true racial reconciliation, requires commitment. It cannot happen in a weekend. It cannot happen in a year. I see reconciliation as a quest.