Tag Archive | change

Of the Earth

redwoodgrove

In my years on this planet

I have found a few

Things that are true.

We are of the earth.

Our bodies are one

With the seas and the mountains.

If we could stand as straight

As the tallest redwoods

Still our roots would bind us

Close to the ground.

 

Like the earth itself,

Our bodies alter

With the seasons,

Eroded by time

Challenged by change.

May we rock gently in the winds

That blow around us.

May we keep our hearts open

To the warmth and promise

Of each new day.

 

 

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Daily Bread (Week 3)

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I woke up a little weepy this morning.  Change is hard, and knowing that those rocks we are trying to push uphill just want to roll back down over us, makes it all a little harder.  Little victories are the clue, placing small wedges under the rocks, keeping a steady pace, and taking the time to rest.  Good shoes for the journey can help too.  Traveling companions make the journey less lonely, and a friend can help you with your shoe laces.

Speaking of laces, we had another good group meeting last night, and the connections are deepening as the sharing becomes more personal.  We went around the room talking about our successes this last week and why we are doing this.  I was moved by many of the stories.  They resonated with many of my own struggles.  Personal stories always do that.  Empathy shimmers around a room and we are moved to laughter or tears.  The stories are all different as each individual is unique, but in broad strokes the pictures being painted are all the same.  This is even truer when a group has gathered around a common issue.

When it was my turn, I had a moment of befuddlement.  I had already shared in my head and also right here in my earlier post.  Writing is like that sometimes.  The words flow out and then they are gone into a deeper part of my being.

We also talked about goals, and the need to be specific about changing behaviors in order to reach a goal.  Deciding to “lose weight” doesn’t work as well as deciding to exercise “x” hours per week, or deciding how many calories to have tomorrow.  The calorie decisions are being made for me in this program, as long as I follow it.  The other stuff is up to me, as always and of course, with more than a little help from my friends.

The idea reminded me of the churches who say they want to “grow,” but are unwilling to change in order to meet that goal.  Change is hard, no matter the issue.  We need to acknowledge what we will lose as well as what we will gain.  Churches may need to give up some familiar practices (music, liturgy, gossip, and exclusive habits of all sorts) in order to welcome the seekers who will help reenergize them in fulfilling their mission. I am giving up the pleasure I have found in eating (and over-eating) delicious high calorie foods in order to live longer and better.  L’Chaim!

 

(My stats for last week: down 2.8 pounds, drank 7 gallons of water, and exercised for 375 minutes – mainly swimming)

shoelaces

The wind blows

The wind blows

But the rains do not come

The heart aches

But the tears do not fall

There is a season

Beyond all reason

Plant a seed

Wait for the rain.

Growing

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This birch tree was in my front yard in Utah.  It is hard to tell at first glance, but two of the tree’s branches grew together and then separated again.  In my yard in CA, I have a redwood tree that became two trees.  They share roots and a trunk, but rise close to 100 feet separately.

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I think that is how we grow too.  Sometimes we need to check back with where we have been before we are ready to grow again up into the sky.

Keep Moving

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Pack and unpack

Wrap up and open up

Life goes on

In small surprises

The bud comes to bloom

Blossoms fall to seed

The earth waits

And holds us all

In its gritty muddy

Sometimes messy

Always generous

Sunshiny embrace

 

 

Snakeskin

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Everyday

We lose some of our skin

Flaking off in the bath

Or in the wind

Life does that

So new skin can grow

Softer maybe

Scales and scars discarded

Our pores opening

In eagerness

To the sunshine

Of the new day

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I Woke

When I woke today

Everything had changed

Yet the sun still rose

Without confusion

The birds still sang

Their ancestors’ songs

The melody is here

A timeless pattern

Deeper than memory

My bags are packed

Goodbyes all said

Tears shed

Going to sing my song

In another town

With a different drum

The beat goes on

And the sun will rise

Tomorrow

And the day after that

With more clarity

So I pray

Grant us grace

Bless our journeys.

 

 

 

 

Look to the Future

Opening words (here)

Reading (here)

Sermon notes:

We have talked about change a lot in the last few months. I admit that it has really been on my mind and in my heart particularly after I decided in the late fall that I would leave you at the end of June. That is coming up pretty quick now, isn’t it? My last worship service with you will be June 22.

 

Change is natural; we know that. And some changes are ones we feel sad about while others fill us with eager anticipation. Often both emotions are present at the same time.

 

The choir’s song this morning about summer reflects the gladness that most people feel when a hard winter is over and the long warm summer days have finally come. Today we have also put out our summer runners, one of the ways we mark the changing seasons in this congregation. It is important to acknowledge change and the passage of time.

 

Nic’s wonderful song is also about the excitement of change, about following a dream.

 

I love the song, but one line in it gives me some pause.

 

“Don’t look back – you can never look back where you’ve been. You can only look where you’re going.”

 

 

I love the image that birds don’t look back over their shoulders when they are flying, but it also makes me think about the Bible story about Lot’s wife.

 

The book of Genesis does not tell us her name, as is often the case with female characters in Bible stories. She is just “Lot’s wife.” Some Jewish Midrash refers to her as Edith. Midrash is a tradition that tries to fill in some of the gaps in the ancient stories; sort of a description of what might also have been happening that can help explain the story better. Anyway, as the story goes, Edith and Lot were fleeing the city of Sodom right before it was to be destroyed. They were told not to look back. Edith looked back anyway and God turned her into a pillar of salt. Why did she look back? Was she having a hard time letting go of what her life had been in that city? She must have had friends and family members living there. It must have been impossible for her to just walk away and not give it at least one parting glance. She must have been crying as she left, and perhaps the whole pillar of salt thing is just a metaphor of the salty tears she shed knowing that all she had known before was going to be destroyed.

 

Change always involves some loss. Always. Even when the change is overall a very positive one, there is some grief involved. Ending a bad marriage or relationship can be a very good thing, particularly if abuse has been involved, but there still can be some grief when it ends. Maybe it is just sadness over the loss of the hope for what might have been. I think it is important to recognize the full spectrum of emotions that come up around change.

 

Some of you who have left other religions to become Unitarian Universalists may still feel some grief about the things you left behind in your other faith tradition.

 

Whatever the change is, it is important to look back, to know what you are leaving, and to grieve the loss. Only then can you really look forward and step into the future. I promise, you won’t turn into a pillar of salt, although you may shed a few tears.

 

What isn’t always so healthy is to not look back at all, to just shut the door to the past and pretend it doesn’t matter anymore, even that it never mattered at all.

 

The past always matters. Good or bad or in-between, it matters. The future is built on what has gone before.

 

I found our reading about the train this morning a little nerve-wracking. The train could have come as it did once before and caught more young boys mid-span. More lives could have been lost. Some changes, some bridges that we need to cross in our lives, can be simply terrifying. They can take real courage to navigate.

 

But some of what I like about that story is the description of what it felt like to be in the middle of that bridge:

 

“We were in between. We were off balance. We were unknown to our own selves. As if on cue, the breeze picked up, whipping through the wooden beams.

It tousled Terry’s hair. He smiled. Another gust, cooler, caused me to stop. Christian hollered and tossed his t-shirt high above our heads, and for a moment it rode the wind out beyond the bridge. I shut my eyes, threw open my arms, wide, and let that same wind rush across my skin. Then, with eyes open, we stepped forward.”

That in between space is important, it is where transformation happens. They were free floating in the wind and then they stepped forward with courage and joy. They suddenly knew they had the power to cross that bridge safely and discover what was on the other side.

 

This congregation is currently in an in-between space. I am currently in-between too. Beginning July 1, I will no longer be your minister. We are saying goodbye to a relationship we have shared and valued. We will do that formally and ritually on the 22nd of this month. Although I am sure I will see some of you again, it will be a completely different relationship than the one we have now.

 

You are also looking forward to the future. You will soon have a fabulous new minister and with her you will enter a time of reevaluating your mission and goals.

 

The wind will blow about you and through you and you will move boldly to the other side of the bridge. I know you will, because you are courageous and faithful people.

 

And for me, I am going home and will be close to family and old friends. I will also be starting a new part-time ministry in a congregation very different from this one. I will still be a minister, but I won’t be your minister anymore, and that is something that in some ways is heartbreaking for me and, I know, for many of you. We have done good work together and your hearts really are entwined with mine.

 

As in the poem I wrote and read this morning at the beginning of the service, we need to unravel the threads that have bound us together carefully. They are not going away, just being transformed and woven into a different tapestry, one that I suspect will be even more beautiful that the amazing one we have created together. The new one will come from your collective dreams, so dream deeply and dream well.

 

We will all, I hope, look back on our time together with love and gratitude, but not with any kind of nostalgia that will inhibit our welcome embrace of the future. Great things really do await, the only real limit is a failure of imagination.

 

It is pride weekend here in Utah and I need to say something about the incredible progress that has been made because courageous people lived their dreams. When I first came out, it was illegal in most states to even be in a relationship with someone of the same gender. If someone caught you kissing, you could be arrested and thrown in jail.

Today marriage equality is real in, I forget how many states it is now, and Wisconsin is the latest. It will happen, again, in Utah.

 

But even achieving marriage equality throughout this nation will not mean the work for justice will end. Not until everyone, no matter who they are, who they love, their immigration status, or how much money they have, not until everyone, and I mean everyone can count on being always treated with dignity and respect then we will not have true justice and equity in this world of ours.

 

Our closing hymn today is one of our favorites I know. I chose it for that reason, but also because of some of the words.

 

“From the light of days remembered burns a beacon bright and clear. Guiding hands and hearts and spirits into faith set free from fear.” It is good to look back at the past as long as looking back becomes an inspiration that gives us the courage to meet the future.

 

“From the stories of our living rings a song both brave and free calling pilgrims still to witness to the life of liberty,”

How we live, right now, today, matters.

 

“From the dreams of youthful vision comes a new prophetic voice which demands a deeper justice built by our courageous choice.” And I just need to say that a youthful vision can come from someone of any chronological age.

But yes, deeper justice can come to one and all. We just need to keep the fire burning and the dreams alive. I love you. Nameste.

Changing Times

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Video will be posted (here)

Call to worship (here)

So did you remember to reset your clocks last night?  The folks who forgot should show up pretty soon.

We go through this changing times thing twice a year.  “Spring ahead, fall back.” “Spring ahead” sounds like a good thing, a great leap forward, progress.  “Fall back,” on the other hand, is a term that when used in a military sense might mean retreat, something you do when you are worried that you might be defeated.   Circle the wagons and all of that; it doesn’t feel as positive.

What I don’t get, given that one seems more positive than the other, is that it is in the hopeful spring that we lose an hour of sleep.

We don’t get that hour back until the coming fall when we can then retreat to our beds and regain that lost sleep.

Of course, like too many things in our world, there are the haves and the have-nots.  If you are born in the summer, you get a bonus hour every fall that you don’t have to pay back for six months, no interest.  Ah, but for winter babies like me, an hour is stolen from us in the spring which we don’t get back for half a year.  It is, if nothing else, an interesting excuse for being tired.

 

Every year it seems, the Utah legislature entertains the idea of not participating in daylight savings time.

Arizona never got with the program after all, so why should Utah go along?

I am glad we do, however.  This semi-annual changing of the clocks is a fabulous metaphor and it keeps us on our toes.  It also reminds us that our days and our lives are more tied to the seasons and that the hours of daylight matter. It also gets us used to change.  Maybe that is why Arizona doesn’t like it.

Some of you are old enough to remember Bob Dylan and his song “The times they are a changing.”  Those of you who are younger may remember your parents or even grandparents playing the record. I loved Bob Dylan’s songs when I was young.  I still do.

“Gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown

And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin’

Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’”

Prophetic words as our glaciers melt and the seas begin to rise.  Can we learn to swim?  Can we reverse the effects of the massive climate change that we have brought to our planet?

“Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
Keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again Don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin

And there’s no tellin’ who
That it’s namin’

For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they, they are a-changin’

Pay attention, he was telling us there.  We don’t know what will happen.  Will the horrible income disparity in this country continue to grow until there is no middle class and only the very rich and the very poor?  Will those who are getting the short end of everything be able to make enough changes that they will be able to win justice?

“Come senators, Congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand at the doorway
Don’t block up the hall

For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it’s ragin’

It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’”

That verse really makes me think of our Utah legislature and their reaction to marriage equality.  The halls of the statehouse have been rattled by more than one demonstration, including an absolutely huge rally for cleaner air.  They are still standing in the doorway, however, blocking progress and change at virtually every turn.

“Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
Don’t criticize
What you can’t understand

Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin’

Please get out of the new one
If you can’t lend a hand
For your times they are a-changin’”

I loved that verse when I was young.  I am somewhat less fond of it now, however.  Adults have always questioned what the young people are doing.  Saying they play too many video games is not all that different from what the matriarchs and patriarchs of the old hunting and gathering clans probably said about those crazy kids that wanted to plant corn and then wait around for it to grow. The youth are always the ones who are destined to lead us into the future.  I will try to lend them a helping hand whenever I can and hope that I know when it is time to step aside.

On the last verse of the song, Dylan, as he often does, goes Biblical:

“The line it is drawn
And the curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast

As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin’

And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’”

Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.

Dylan’s song is in the apocalyptic tradition.  That is the apocalypse, or the end times, or even the end of time.  There will be great change, the tyrants will be banished, and the kingdom of God, the beloved community, will be established here on earth as it is in heaven.

Who wouldn’t move heaven and earth to bring about justice?  I do believe as 19th century Unitarian Minister Theodore parker said, “the arc of the universe is long but that it bends toward justice.” I do believe that most things anyway, get better over time.

I told you a few weeks ago that I thought change was mostly good because change means we are alive.

The times truly are always changing, in both good ways and in bad.  They change in big ways and in small. Change is always a challenge, and always an opportunity. Change can be exciting and it can also make us angry.

 

Many of you I know have had a variety of reactions to the announcement I made about my leaving at the end of June.

There were some tears, and I know that almost all of you, while in some ways happy for me, are also sad that I will be leaving.  We have loved each other well.  Some of you, maybe even all of you, are likely just a little bit angry as well.

 

“How can I leave you?  Why won’t I stay, another year or two at least?”  That anger is OK; it is a very human reaction.  We talked about anger last week.  People get angry with their loved ones who die, just because they have died and left them, so of course it is fine for you to feel some anger.  Remember the three steps I suggested to handle anger in a healthy way?

 

Own it, understand it, and then do something with it. Create the future you want.

 

Change can also bring fear. That is a big one and fear is, like anger, a normal emotion in the face of change. What will happen?  Imagining the worst-case scenario is really easy to do. What if you can’t find another minister?  What if you don’t like the next minister?  Maybe we shouldn’t have a minister at all or maybe just a part-time one, just in case, just in case?

 

It is OK to have all of those feelings, all of those fears and anxieties.  As I said, it is very human to feel like that when faced with change, especially a change that is not one you particularly wanted.

 

But, after you acknowledge your feelings and fears, then what?  Do you hunker down and just sit with them?  Do you pull back and disengage?  I hope not.

 

If you do that, you miss the good that can come from the change.  You miss out on feelings of anticipation and excitement.  Getting a new minister is exciting!

Who knows what new skills and gifts they will bring?  Who knows what they might be able to teach you?  Who knows what you might be able to teach them.  Ministry in a congregation is a journey of partnership.

A minister of a church is a leader of course, but a minister also follows the lead of the congregation, channels in a way the hopes and dreams of the gathered community.  I have followed you as much if not more than I have lead you. Where do you want to go next?  That is for you to decide, both as individuals and as a community.

 

Sometimes we want to turn the clock back.  We want to return to what we think was a simpler, less confusing time.  It we really remember the past, chances are it was just as complicated and confusing as it is now.

 

Sometimes we want to set the clock ahead, to skip over what we are dealing with right now, to jump to some future time where everything will be settled, where everything will be wonderful, where all our problems will be solved.

 

I don’t know what the future will bring.  I do know that it will be different.  I also know that it will very likely be every bit as challenging and confusing as everything is right now. It will also be just as exciting and just as wonderful.

 

Every year, an hour is taken away from us, and every year we are given an extra hour to do with as we will.  Let us use that loss and that gift as best we can.

When we get to our closing hymn, think about how you and we are on our way to the freedom land.

Best of all, in these changing times, know that we have the freedom to decide what that freedom will look like and how we want to get there.

 

Time Change

Did you reset your clocks

Springing forward in time

Did you change them last night

Or wait until morning

Was your bed extra cozy

Did dawn come too soon

Was the light in your window

From the sun or the moon

Sometimes we look forward

Sometimes we turn back

An hour is lost

The time it has changed

Wake up and get going

With deliberate haste

A whole world awaits us

A new day will be born

From struggle and memory

From work and regret

Love leads us on

This we will never

Forget.