by Carol Taylor | Mar 11, 2015 | DRE Blog
Stumped. That’s what I was today as I began to write this blog. At this very moment I don’t have the energy or desire to be profound or inspiring or challenge your thought. I just want to be — be quiet, be happy, be tired, be lonely, be angry, be whatever the moment holds. My personal life is a flurry of activity, chaos and pending transition that has my head spinning. My professional life follows the routine that I have created over the past four years at WUUC. Somewhere in the middle of (or maybe beneath) these two very different lives is the journey that I must take to find myself among all the comings and goings of my structured existence.
Not so easy, though, to make the time to explore this less-worn pathway–at least not for me. On Sunday I don’t get to worship because I’m working. During the week I hurry home from work to deal with family issues. Where am I in all this coming and going of my life and how do I feed my soul? Sound familiar to anyone?
I do work on my meditation practice and revel in time outside in nature, but often the other bits of my life creep in and distract me. It seems I’m always busy doing something for others and I’ve never been good at making time for myself. I’m talking about real time – quiet, silent, contemplative time – the time and space I need to unpack all the extra items that I’ve been carrying around on my life’s journey. You know, the items that are so heavy you think you might break from their weight. The items we bury deep in our hearts, like the garbage at the bottom of our backpack that we carry out of the woods when we hike. It stinks when you open it up and see what is there, but it only stinks more the longer it stays buried before we discard it. Or maybe I’ll discover that this path leads me in a totally different direction from what I have become comfortable with? And would that be so bad?
All I know is that right now, today, I need to travel down that less-worn path–to put one foot ahead of the other and allow myself to get a little lost along the way. I know in my heart that I cannot truly escape this particular journey, I can only avoid being present along the way. I have hurts and anger and doubt that are still close to the surface, ones not dealt with and ones that aren’t easily discarded. Maybe I can find a way to compost them into something beautiful and new and fresh if I slowly unpack them, if I am present to the pain and joy that the journey brings. Maybe that is what a spiritual journey is all about, the process of letting go–unpacking–to find the beauty and wholeness of ourselves. Just a thought.
by Carol Taylor | Feb 24, 2015 | DRE Blog
God’s Eye Nebula
During our monthly theme of Love, I thought about the number of stories that I have used in Religious Exploration lately that refer to God or are about Jesus. While it is vital for our UU children to hear these stories, especially in a UU context, I wonder what families at this church think about the stories their children are hearing this month and whether God language is difficult for them personally. I always preface the stories by sharing that some people believe in God and some don’t and that as Unitarian Universalists we get to discover what is true for us. I want the children to hear many times that they don’t have to believe the same thing as the person next to them at church or in school–that they can define the mystery however they choose and so can their friends. But you can’t decide for yourself, if you are never exposed to the stories except in a negative way.
God, Spirit of life, Mystery, Great Universe–all are words pointing to something beyond our own selves. We all have direct experiences of transcending mystery and wonder, even if we don’t all have the same experience. This excerpt from “What’s in the Temple?” by Tom Barrett says it well.
If I say the word God, people run away.
They’ve been frightened—sat on ’till the spirit cried “uncle.”
Now they play hide and seek with somebody they can’t name.
They know he’s out there looking for them, and they want to be found,
But there is all this stuff in the way.
I can’t talk about God and make any sense,
And I can’t not talk about God and make any sense.
So we talk about the weather, and we are talking about God.
So we talk around in circles with each other, applying our own meaning to words that describe the ineffable, most likely never able to fully comprehend one another’s experiences.
A couple of Sundays ago I was telling the story of Theodore Parker and the turtle. In the story, Theodore sees a turtle and contemplates hitting it with a stick as he had seen other boys do. As he raises his stick he hears a voice boom “It is wrong!” The moment I boomed those words, one of the children listening to the story said, “It’s the voice of God.” I continued until I got to the part where Theodore’s mother explains that some people call that voice their conscience, but she chooses to call it the voice of God. The same child then said “Shhh. God is talking to me!”
I stopped reading and asked what God was saying. Her reply was “LOVE.” What a beautiful moment of sacredness and grace. At that moment God was defined for this child as love – a simple four letter word. If hearing the word God brings thoughts of other more colorful four letter words for you as an adult, could this child’s experience of God give you a new four letter word to use when someone says God. Even if you were wounded by a religious experience in your past, remember it was the religious experience and the people that wounded you, not God or a god or gods or the mystery or the universe. Love is a beautiful way to describe the ineffable. Real love is all-encompassing, boundless, larger than we can fully comprehend and express. It renews our spirit and makes us more open to life. Love calls us to be better to ourselves, each other and our world.
I don’t know about you, but for me that is a beautiful way to think about God.
by Carol Taylor | Feb 10, 2015 | DRE Blog
I am looking with awe and amazement at the wide variety of items on my office bookshelf. You see, in preparation for my leaving I’ve been going back through the books and curriculum and making sure I have a complete database for whoever follows me, and, OMG, there is so much here.
The richness of materials that are available to us as Unitarian Universalist Religious Educators, especially since the addition of Tapestry of Faith curriculum, astounds me. Because our six sources cast a wide net, we can easily pull in the best materials from other education sites as well, curating them and adding the spiritual elements that are part of creating our religious experience together.
Each RE year requires planning for what areas to explore, what curriculum to use and what the learning goals for the year are. In this planning process, I have read or skimmed through everything on the shelves, as well as the materials that are available online through the UUA. That’s a lot of reading and there is so much more I could learn. It’s like a treasure hunt to find the right lessons and I never know what gems I might turn up.
As a religious educator there are so many parts of UU history and heritage that I want you to know. Knowledge about how we came to be a religious tradition, how we have shaped and been shaped by justice making, who our forebears are, our past mistakes and successes. I want our people to develop leadership skills, a sense of self, compassion for others, responsibility, a spiritual self, ethical reasoning, love for the mystery……the list goes on. I wonder what you would consider the core of UU learning that our children should have before they leave home? What stories of our UU past could be told across all generations and all congregations so that we have a shared knowledge of our faith? What have you as an adult learned that has strengthened your commitment to Unitarian Universalism? Have you even engaged in learning about our faith?
As you think about these questions, I can tell you one thing for sure. There is too little time on Sunday mornings to impart the wealth of knowledge that is in all our religious texts and sources. One day a week doesn’t create a religious identity. It takes work outside of church, in your families or on your own, to really get the meat of the learning. If you want to raise religious children or nurture the spiritual in yourself, you might want to learn a little about our history. Talk at home about religious matters – the Big Questions. Ask your children what they believe about God, the Universe, Good and Evil, Love, Justice and tell them what you believe. Start the conversation and see what treasures you uncover. It is a lifelong quest.
Sunday morning just isn’t enough.
by Carol Taylor | Jan 29, 2015 | DRE Blog
Click for February’s Theme, Love
“Everybody, everybody wants to love. Everybody, everybody wants to be loved,”–the chorus of this Sunday’s introit. So many songs and stories have been written about love lost, love found, enduring love. As a religious educator I am thrilled when anyone, especially a child, sees the connection between our faith movement and all-encompassing love. It is in our Universalist DNA, a knowing that all are worthy of love–the theology of love as a force or grace that saves. We have even been nicknamed the “love people” since showing up en masse in our bright yellow Standing on the Side of Love T-shirts for Justice GA in Phoenix.
So why can it be so difficult to love? Maybe it is partly because of our romanticized notion of what love is and the fact that there are so many ways to define it – romantic, altruistic, parental, unconditional- that we aren’t sure which one fits. What about loving the ‘unlovable’? Does it make it harder to love when we see something in others that we don’t like about ourselves, a shadow side that we haven’t accepted or truly uncovered. How can we love a murderer or the person who consistently treats us badly or the person we don’t even know or our imperfect selves? Maybe that question could be answered by asking what they need? Are they outcast, fearful, angry, lonely, seeking — what motivates the actions that we do not like? Asking out of compassion opens the heart and makes room for a connection, and for me, love is connection. It is feeling like I am part of the world and reflecting that feeling back to others.
Love is the core of my theology. I believe that abiding love grounded in experienced truths and in relationship with others is what provides hope. It’s what drew me to Unitarian Universalism, the theology of a saving love, one that doesn’t exclude based on belief, but offers redemption for all. Redemption isn’t about being absolved from sin, it is about restoring my humanity over and over again by acting in love. I believe everyone has inherent worth that can be redeemed. It is in my struggle to love all, even those people who challenge me to expand my heart even more, that I learn more about myself and become more whole. Leaning into the love I want to embody is my salvation. “Everybody, everybody wants to love. Everybody, everybody wants to be loved.”
With love,
Carrie Krause
by Carol Taylor | Jan 13, 2015 | DRE Blog
A church without a clear understanding of what they want to accomplish might be compared to a group of people taking a journey without knowing where they are going. We enjoy the time and travel together for a while, at least until one of us wants to go a different direction and then we are stuck in a struggle to decide the best route to take when we don’t even have a destination in mind. When a church operates with a clear sense of purpose and forward momentum, then every new thing that is introduced–every class, new group, justice action–can be measured against the shared understanding of who and what we want to be as a church. We have a lens for evaluating our actions as a congregation and are better poised to have an impact in our community.
I think of it as laying out an travel plan with an ending point in mind. If I know I want to go to California, what are all the routes and travel methods I could take to get there. Car, plane, bus, train, bicycle, backpacking? Which route is calling me – the back roads that wind through countryside, along streams, over mountains, or the flat highways where I can sail at a quick pace toward my destination? Do I want to let someone else take the lead and be the driver, or do I want to have more control over my journey? Do I want to go to a particular city, or just the state? One thing is certain, if I don’t have some sort of plan, I probably won’t get where I want to go and may spend time going in circles and retracing my steps trying to find my way. I’ll get sidetracked by the bumps and detours and shiny objects that are on the side of the road. And if my itinerary has no detail, or specific steps to take, I may end up in San Jose when I want to go to San Francisco. I won’t be able to tell new travelling companions gathered along the way where we are headed or why.
This coming Saturday people at Woodinville UU Church are invited to join in conversations about what the future holds for us as a congregation, where to focus our energy and how to support growth. The work of Unitarian Universalism isn’t done by one person or even two people in a congregation, but is something that requires all of us to come together to help the church thrive. Congregational polity means that as a church we choose how we govern, set our own vision and mission and determine how we will be a living expression of Unitarian Universalism within our walls and in our community. There is no higher body to hand down our marching orders, and while we may not all agree on the where we might focus our attention, engaging in the conversations will help staff and congregants move forward in ways that only increase our ability as a congregation to do meaningful work, rather than spinning our wheels.
As a living tradition, Unitarian Universalism is always changing and remaking itself into a faith that fits the times. It is a privilege to be part of an organization that wants you to help shape the future. Now is the time to join the conversation.
Stumped. That’s what I was today as I began to write this blog. At this very moment I don’t have the energy or desire to be profound or inspiring or challenge your thought. I just want to be — be quiet, be happy, be tired, be lonely, be angry, be whatever the moment holds. My personal life is a flurry of activity, chaos and pending transition that has my head spinning. My professional life follows the routine that I have created over the past four years at WUUC. Somewhere in the middle of (or maybe beneath) these two very different lives is the journey that I must take to find myself among all the comings and goings of my structured existence.
