The solace of the Sox
Living far from Boston but a life-long Red Sox fan, the Rev. Tony Lorenzen writes that, “In a world beset by many painful, disruptive, and disorienting events from divorce to terrorism, the Red Sox provide a connection, a home, and some peace.”
I won’t make CD’s of all the music associated with the Red Sox. . . . But I have pulled those songs onto a play-list and will listen to it thinking about how the Sox make my life a little brighter, whether it’s by sending me down memory lane thinking fondly of my grandfather listening to the game on the radio while hunched over the kitchen wastebasket shelling and eating peanuts or reflecting on how the Sox are a commonality that bring me closer to friends who hold opposing, as in polar opposite, political views. . . .
This year the Sox reminded of who I am, where I’m from, and the people who love me. Sometimes that’s as much solace as we get, and possibly as much as we need. (Sunflower Chalice, October 31)
Precious as the stars in heaven
Remembering Martin Luther, the Rev. James Ford pins five theses to the cork board in his kitchen, including one that echoes the first UU Principle.
Its good to remember you are as precious as the stars in heaven. You are absolutely unique. You will never be repeated. And, you’re as passing as the morning dew. Take care of yourself, it’s a sacred obligation to your mother and father and the holy one. (Monkey Mind, October 31)
Christine Slocum’s new UU congregation is a wonderfully baby-friendly church.
It’s the little things: people approaching me to express how much they love hearing a little baby coo in the services, the woman next to me holding open the hymnal while my arms are full, and strangers stopping to smile and talk to my little one. My baby is probably convinced that the standard operating procedure for meeting strangers consists of smiles and declarations of wonderfulness and beauty, because that’s all she experiences. (Christine Slocum, October 28)
The Rev. Jake Morrill tells the story of meeting a Good Samaritan—a tired exotic dancer in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.
A magazine I once read had a feature on “Southern hospitality.” I remember the photos: a big porch with white pillars. A carved wooden pineapple hung by the door. Inside, some plump sofas and delicate curtains. A life of plenty and ease. I’d be willing to be pampered in a setting like that. But, to me, “Southern hospitality” will always look less like that mansion, and more like a one-room apartment in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. (Quest for Meaning, October 26)
The Rev. Diane Dowgiert, echoing another blog post from last week, suggests that we need to re-examine the stereotypes about who Unitarian Universalists are.
I hear the kinds of questions newcomers get asked. For example, “What do you do?” The person answers, “I work at Raytheon.” And the questioner responds, “Oh, so you must be an engineer.” This leaves the newcomer, who is actually a janitor, wondering, “Would you still respect me if you knew what I really do for a living?” (Transforming Times, October 24)
Diving deep
The Rev. Myke Johnson risks talking about her heart’s spiritual hunger.
Today, when I venture inside my own heart, I still experience deep longings, these hungers that feel almost like pain, or sometimes like restlessness. It is difficult to feel this and I am tempted to read a book, or find something else that might fill up that empty place. But instead of escaping or fixing it, I invite myself to try to be present with it. I breathe into the longing and let myself experience the hunger. (Finding Our Way Home, October 27)
The Rev. Erik Walker Wikstrom has a spiritual encounter with “holy ground,” but then cannot find its borders.
[As] I began to put my shoes back on I found myself wondering about where the boundary was around this “holy ground.” Was there a circle of some as yet indeterminate diameter that was holy ground with everything beyond being more mundane? . . . Where does “holy ground” end and “unholy ground” begin? I have to say, I’ve still never found that demarcation. (A Minister’s Musings, October 31)
The Rev. Ken Beldon announces the beginning of Wellspring’s annual “Thirty Days of Gratitude,” and invites participation: “Over the month to come, we’ll be working with beginning, intermediate and advanced steps that can help us grow in gratitude.” (Thirty Days of Gratitude, October 30)
Margaret Sequeira compares the intersecting roles of psychotherapy, spiritual direction, and coaching when life calls us to “dive deep.” (Scattered Revelations, October 30)
Observing Samhain
For John Beckett, Samhain is a time of “the thinning of the veil between the worlds,” when we can hear the spirits of Nature speak—if we listen.
What might they say to us, or at least to those of us inclined to hear with more than physical ears?
Away, come away.
Come away from your antiseptic bubbles and dig in the dirt.
Come away from your high tech glamours and make your own art.
Come away from your isolation and greet your neighbors—all your neighbors.
Come away from your masters and follow your heart.
Come away from your arrogance and revere our Mother.
Come away from your greed and embrace enough.
Away, come away. (Under the Ancient Oaks, October 27)
For guest blogger Irene Jericho, Samhain “speaks to the spark within the darkness.”
The loved ones that exist beyond death. The light within us that shines on the darkest of days. The comfort of a warm hearth on a cold night. This is the gift, and the lesson, of this season. That the Wheel of the Year turns, and we turn with it. That a journey into the night is not something to be feared. It is simply a part of the cycle. (Pluralism, Pragmatism, Progressivism, October 30)
Making choices
The Rev. Dan Harper shares a reflection by Samuel Erickson about being a Unitarian Universalist and a conscientious objector.
As for this Unitarian Universalist church, I know we do not specifically teach pacifism, but I believe what we do value directs itself to such. . . . [Pacifism] is when we stop and think about any situation, you and I realize that violence will never accomplish anything, death will not solve problems. When we extrapolate our actions from there and to the rest of our lives, that is what means to be a conscientious objector. (Yet Another Unitarian Universalist, October 27)
The Rev. Dr. Cynthia Landrum thinks about whether she will go to see the movie Ender’s Game, based on the novel by Orson Scott Card (who actively opposes marriage equality).
[The] old Orson Scott Card fan in me really wants to see it, and the activist in me wants to boycott it. . . . If I go see Ender’s Game, then I will give the amount of my ticket price directly to an organization working for same-sex marriage or liberal politics to offset the gain in Card’s pocket, much like offsetting a carbon footprint. (Rev. Cyn, October 30)
Freethinkers’ groups
Sarah, a Unitarian in Scotland, has enjoyed becoming involved with the new atheist Sunday Assembly in Edinburgh.
Church, if you set aside the religious element, is about congregating with others to take a bit of time out from busy lives and reflect on life a bit; to be uplifted together; to reach out and do some good to others. There are many people who want all these things, but are just turned off by the God part. (Meaning and Truth, October 26)
An earlier blog post describes Sarah’s first experience with the Sunday Assembly, and compares it to services in the Unitarian church. (Meaning and Truth, August 18)
In his sermon, “We Already Exist,” the Rev. Stephen Kendrick voices the thoughts of many UUs about the Sunday Assembly and other new freethinkers’ groups.
Around the Web
After a trip to Paris, the Rev. Tom Schade writes that “travel is now the great humanist pilgrimage.”
I am not referring to humanism as atheism, but as the great humanist turn in Western thought when ordinary life was placed at the center of consciousness and thought. . . .
How to illustrate this great turn away from the divine toward the ordinary and human? Consider the Cathedral at Rouen, begun in 1200. It was built to last, a place to worship the everlasting God by His everlasting church. In 1890, Claude Monet painted a series of paintings of the Cathedral’s facade, each one capturing the impression on his eyes made by the ever shifting light shining on the unchanging stones. (The Lively Tradition, October 29)
As Americans struggle to adapt to “Obamacare,” the Rev. Elz Curtiss suggests that we all need a bit of pastoral care.
Now that the Affordable Care Act has provoked the unavoidable controversies, I find myself missing true religious leadership during this process.
You might be liberal or conservative, in either your theology or your politics, but as a clergy-person, you are taught to stand with your people during times of change, and reassure them that, “Yes, change is hard. Yes, change is scary. When familiar things get rearranged, it feels like you’re under attack.” (Politywonk, October 29)