What inspiration do you draw from as you seek to live out your Unitarian Universalist values and engage in a free and responsible search for truth and meaning? What language and ideas make sense to you and speak to your spirit as you think about your spiritual journey? Is it the same as the language and ideas that make sense to and speak to the soul of your loved ones, your friends, or the children in your life?
During my time as your interim minister one of the things I’ve loved is exploring with you is the many shapes of our Unitarian Universalist faith. We so often talk about the seven Principles that we as Unitarian Universalists covenant to affirm and promote. We hold these principles as our values and moral guides.
But did you know that these Principles are part of a “living
tradition” of wisdom that we draw from? Unitarian Universalism has six Sources
that give us our Principles, our inspiration, and guidance. These are the six Sources Unitarian
Universalist congregations affirm and promote:
- Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life;
- Words and deeds of prophetic people, which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love;
- Wisdom from the world’s religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life;
- Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God’s love by loving our neighbors as ourselves;
- Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit;
- Spiritual teachings of Earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.
In February, I’ll begin a series of worship services to help us reflect on our six Sources and how they inform our faith. Our series will begin on Feb. 16. Then though April we’ll explore the Sources, with a few breaks for other types of services.
I hope you’ll join us for this series and use it as an opportunity
to deepen your understanding of how your religious background influences you,
what religious language and ideas speak to you at this point, and what
religious language and ideas speak to others in this congregation and in your
life. As we explored recently, sometimes we sing your song, sometimes we sing
my song, and sometimes we sing her song, his song, or their song. So, too, our
songs draw from many places and change over time. Our Sources are an important
part of our songs.
I hope to see you in the coming months as we explore our living
tradition of wisdom and inspiration.
Love and Blessings,
It has been a rich, full month. The busyness of early and mid-December, with its holiday parties and gift finding and giving, its many pulls that stretch our minds and hearts thin, is coming to an end. We’ve passed the longest night of the year, taking from it what we could, whether deepening and meditation, comaraderie and fun, joy, stillness, or the grief that sometimes comes to us at such times.
We are moving into the quieter, liminal space between
Christmas and New Year’s Day. Throughout my life I’ve particularly valued this
time. I’ve usually managed to be scheduled out of work or to be on a school
break, so after the immediate busyness of Christmas passes, I’ve blessedly been
able to relax and rest from the exhaustion of the work or school year, play, reflect,
and find some renewed energy and spirit for the beginning of the new year. The
years I’ve needed to work during this liminal time of the year, I’ve enjoyed
the slower, quieter pace. It’s also allowed me to reflect, connect, relax, and
find renewed energy in its own way.
This time of the year, like many of the liminal times in our
lives and in our congregations, invites us to reflect in a deeper way on what
has happened in this past year and what we wish to carry forward in the next
year. Here are some questions I’ve found useful in this work:
- Where, for what, and for whom have I felt
gratitude, thankfulness, or appreciation this year? Where haven’t I felt it?
What does that tell me and how can I grow in this practice?
- Where are connections showing up that are
strengthening and challenging me?
- Whose stories have I listened to this year?
Whose voices are missing? Who told those stories?
- How have our Soul Matters themes showed up in my
life and changed me? (They’ve been Possibility, Trust, Journey, Wholeness,
Curiosity, Beauty, Expectation, Belonging, Attention, and Awe.)
- How have I lived love into the world with
courage? How have I lived my values?
- What has my spiritual practice been this year?
How is it feeding my spirit? What are the things I want to continue and what
are the things I want to change?
I ask myself these questions with humility, grace, and courage, wishing to be transformed by them. If what I, or you, find is difficult, as I talked about in worship a couple weeks ago, by entering the dark places, the places of fear, anger, shame, sorrow, and pain in our spirits, and doing the deep work of grappling with these feelings and what they tell us about ourselves, humanity, and our relationship with the world; by bringing love, humility, and deepening connection into those spaces; by finding the lessons of these times and spaces and where they and our love and values ask us to change; by doing this work we grow. We grow, too, by letting Love, a deep, courageous Love, come into our hearts and lives, and following it.
In January we’ll begin 2020 by reflecting on the theme of
Integrity. I’ll be bringing my own work from these coming weeks into that. I
hope you will, too.
May this liminal space bless you and all with its gifts. May
you and all be perturbed. May you and all find peace. Go in Peace, Love, and
Love and Blessings,
P.S.: I’ll be on vacation from Dec. 25 – Jan. 6. I look forward to beginning to catch up on voicemails and emails on Jan. 7. If you have a pastoral emergency before Jan. 7, please leave a voicemail on my cell phone or contact the lay pastoral associates at email@example.com or (425) 483-6476.
As we move into December, into the darkness, we find ourselves in spaces of tension.
There’s the excitement and hubbub of all the things that happen around the holidays, combined with commercial and consumerist messages that bombard us.
There’s the tension and anxiety that come with the end of the year, work deadlines and financial demands, and, for some of us, with gathering with family and friends, the invitations or lack of invitations to holiday and year-end festivities. And this year tension is higher for many because of events in the country and world, which are amping up anxiety more.
And there’s the quietness, lovely stillness, and sluggishness that come with lengthening nights and short days.
We’re going into the darkness, and as we go many faiths invite us into attentiveness to it or into anticipation of something coming.
We can feel all this as a tug-of-war, where we feel caught in the swirl of the season. And so this call to deepen and cultivate the gifts of the spirit is all the more valuable, as it is whenever we find ourselves in places that are in-between, in tension, changing, busy, anxious.
The holidays of light and darkness at this time of year invite us into wonder and patience. They do invite us to exuberance and delight, but to make it to the great celebration we need patience, hope, faith, love, courage, and the ability to cultivate joy in our daily lives, whether that celebration is for Jesus’ birth, Hanukhah, Solstice, Watch Night, or something else. These holy days invite us to anticipation, to reaffirm the power of the spirit and the value of religious community and spiritual life, to explore what a miracle is, and to celebrate freedom, justice, and community.
As we move into December, into the darkness, and our reflections on Awe, may we hold the pull of connection and the pull of quiet stillness in delicate and creative tension. May you, may we find ways of being together that help us deepen and connect even as we allow ourselves to be nourished by the quiet darkness. May we deepen in our relationship with awe as the darkness grows. May we find in the deep stillness what our spirits need, individually and as a congregation.
Love and Blessings,
How do we reclaim our narrative? What story do we want to tell about our lives?
I’m here in St. Paul, MN deeply grateful to be at BLUU’s Harper-Jordan Memorial Symposium (https://www.blacklivesuu.com/about). Well, enjoying and being humbled and awed by it… Here I’m surrounded by beloveds, all of whom are having their own amazing experiences of the pure fire that is Unitarian Universalism’s first symposium focused specifically on proclaiming a Black UU theology. And I’m immersed in deep theological discussions the likes of which I haven’t enjoyed since before I finished seminary. And we’ve only finished day one…!
I’m excited to share some of what’s happened here and my reflections on it when I return to WUUC’s pulpit on Nov. 10. But in the meantime, I’ll share with you a few of the questions that are coming to me here and that relate to WUUC’s monthly theme for November: Attention.
Some of those questions are:
How do we reclaim our narrative? What story do we want to tell about our lives, our faith, our communities? Sometimes we take questions like these to mean something like “How do we focus on the good stuff we want others to know about us/our communities/our country/our faith?” But a way of viewing this question that pushes us to do deep work and to grow in all sorts of ways asks us to reflect on how we honor the deep, difficult, complicated happy and unhappy, joyful and sad, loving and evil things that have happened to us, our faith(s), and our communities.
What does deeply grappling with these things tell us about ourselves, our institutions, our world, and who and what we want to be in it for ourselves and others? It’s when we grapple with these difficult questions and try to find answers that center and grow Love that we are more often able to become more expansive and more inclusive. This grappling helps us spiritually deepen, too.
People are meaning-making beings. When we go through difficulty, loss, grief, or other challenges or changes – and particularly when we or institutions we’re part of treat people in ways that don’t uphold our values – it can be tempting to try to move through those times and put those stories aside. We’ve done this so often as a country, in our communities, and in our individual lives. But then how do we make meaning from that? What does that mean for us and for all those hurt or harmed? And how does that help us move toward more Love, liberation, compassion, and care for ourselves and others?
These are hard questions, and they’re ones I hope to keep grappling with throughout my life. They’re ones I hope we grapple with as a country, a faith, and in our communities.
This month, as we reflect on what it means to be a people of attention, may we all be present in the midst of the struggle, learn the ever-unfolding lessons it teaches us, and work to incorporate those into our own narratives and the narratives of our communities.
Love and Blessings,
Years ago (so many years I don’t remember who or why)
someone asked me a question I keep with me: To whom are you responsible, to who
and what do you belong?
I carry this question with me because it reminds me to
reflect on where I am in the world and who and what I’m serving, what
communities and individuals I’m connecting myself with, and how I’m nurturing
bonds. When I’ve been lost or confused it’s helped me re-ground and re-connect
As a woman who grew up being taught to sacrifice her well-being for the convenience of others, it also reminds me that I belong to myself. Responding to that is one of my fundamental responsibilities.
And I carry this question because the way it was originally
asked – To whom do you belong? – has a very difficult, very painful historical
edge. For far too many of my loved ones, for far too many in our communities,
the question of who the world says you belong to is quite literally a part of
their recent family histories. And so this question reminds me of the history
and continuing effects of oppression in our world, how it shapes our
understandings and perceptions, and my ongoing responsibilities and commitments
to respond to that.
In the same vein, I’ve added a couple more questions for
myself over the past several years: To whom does our faith, Unitarian
Universalism, belong? To whom does this congregation belong?
Over the past several months this congregation has begun
reflecting on what these questions imply as we work on discerning what
welcoming, radical hospitality, and pre-emptive radical inclusion mean in this
context. This connects with WUUC’s history of discerning your ministry with
each other and in the wider community, including your work on racial justice,
LGTBQIA+ rights, and being a loving community.
As we enter October, our monthly theme is Belonging. Questions
and concerns have been coming to me about what belonging means, who belongs,
and how we talk with each other.
In their workshop on Preemptive Radical Inclusion, CB Beal
asked us to begin our work on inclusion and belonging with noticing. CB asked
us to notice what we think and feel, to wonder why we think and feel that, and
to ask ourselves what that tells us about what we believe. They also invited us
to create safer and braver space by making room to listen to each other
differently; noticing that we all make mistakes and cause each other harm because
of our ignorance, power, or privilege; and noticing the impact of our mistakes,
apologizing, and making amends without making that more important than
These things – noticing; creating safer and braver space;
creating room to make mistakes, room for feelings, room to acknowledge impacts
and make amends; and leaning into discomfort – are all part of creating space
for greater belonging. And so, as we move through October I invite you to
- What am I thinking and feeling? Why is that?
What does it tell me about what I believe?
- Who is being served by the decisions we’re
making about space, our processes, and the things that tell us how to be
- What and whose needs are we addressing and
- If that’s hurting some people or pushing them
out, particularly if they have less power in this situation or place, what can
I do to address that?
The way we live and how we are together says much about what
we truly believe and value. And this ministry of finding ever-greater
congruence and showing Love more fully and deeply in the world is a blessing.
Love and Blessings,
As we enter this new year – our second year together
and your second year of interim ministry – I find myself thinking and wondering
a lot about expectations, identity, and change.
This summer, as I prepared to spend a week
camping with my mother, my sisters, and their children, I spent an hour talking
about my excitement and my anxieties with my therapist and even more time meditating
on this. You see, I’ve changed over the past few years.
We go through seasons of our lives where our
identities are clearer and we question them less. And we go through other
seasons where transformation reaches up and grabs us, and where we re-question
our identities and come to new understandings. The cycle is continuous and
This isn’t surprising, but it is stressful. And
it’s even more so when we change and then we go back into a setting where
people expect us to still be the same – where we each have specific roles and
ways of being. Disrupting those, even when it means being who we want to be,
who we know we are now, is hard.
And it’s particularly hard when we’re coming to
understand that our identities are multiple and are made up of not just one
story but many stories. That those stories are contradictory but still may very
well all be true. And that parts of our stories that we may not have given
enough credit to in the past are showing up in ways that deeply influence us.
Our society teaches us that we can’t hold and honor all these complexities.
For my family, for this congregation, and in
the larger world this is a season where we’re living into the challenges of
transition, expectations, and changing identity more.
And so I’ve found myself thinking about
expectation and identity. I’ve found myself turning over a quote from the book In the Interim: “Do all churches [or people] need to take advantage of
the opportunity to significantly change during a ministerial transition[times of societal or life change]?
Research and experience tell us that this is a time to discover a new identity.
That discovery will best be made when the congregation [or person] has examined its [their]
old identity and compared it to present reality.”
We all interact with change best when we’re
able to examine our old identities, compare them to our present reality, and
honor our stories, experiences, and feelings. When we can hold the fullness of
our pasts and perhaps even find new strength and resources in them. And we do
even better when we’re able to sit in the mystery of change.
As I cultivate my curiosity in the midst of
this great unknowing, Martha Beck’s change cycle from Finding Your Own North Star also comes to me. I’m sharing it below as a resource for you as we enter this new
church year together. What’s your mantra for this stage of life? I’m looking
forward to exploring with you.
Love and Blessings,