"From Out the Cave" by Joyce Sutphen, from Straight Out of View. © Beacon Press, 1995.

When you have been at war with yourself for so many years that you have forgotten why,

when you have been driving for hours and only gradually begin to realize that you have lost the way,

 when you have cut hastily into the fabric,

when you have signed papers in distraction,

when it has been centuries since you watched the sun set or the rain fall,

and the clouds, drifting overhead, pass as flat as anything on a postcard;

when, in the midst of these everyday nightmares,

you understand that you could wake up,

you could turn and go back to the last thing you remember doing with your whole heart:

that passionate kiss,

the brilliant drop of love rolling along the tongue of a green leaf,

then you wake,

you stumble from your cave,

blinking in the sun,

naming every shadow as it slips.

What good or surprising things have happened for you since this pandemic began? I would love to know! Send me an email, a text, or call (just leave a message) …

If you can’t think of anything, may I recommend learning to love and cherish yourself?

The root of compassion is self-regard (in case self-love seems like a bridge too far… I get that.)

On Sunday, I will share more about this, and a few ways it is done. Hope you’ll join me and your fellow GNUUCers.

MEANWHILE: Starting when I return from leave, in August, we will join a community book reading that all can take part in. The book is How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. Please buy it from an independent bookstore if you can! Then start reading. We will tap into this and some other materials throughout the Fall, and next Spring, you will be invited to a lunch meeting with the author!

This quarantine will yield so many things of value that we can’t begin to comprehend. A great shifting of energies and will is going on before our very eyes. Be a part of it.

Much love,   Cynthia

Five teens from Nashville who organized a peaceful March in four days.

I have a periodontal appointment today, which I remembered, but then I realized that I wasn’t sure which office it was, and couldn't recall the name of the MD, nor had they sent me a reminder! When I remembered the name of the practice, I called and was reminded that it’s a sedation appointment so Eric had to change his plans to drive me. I’ve had several of these moments since the pandemic began, and I’m not ready to chalk them up to aging or dementia. I’ve talked with my adult offspring, and they acknowledge having this same kind of event. My son Colin is in New Mexico, one of the least affected states, and still, he feels confused, unable to concentrate, and indecisive about his Ph.D. studies. I’ve managed to convince him not to make any major decisions until the pandemic has been mitigated, but talking with him helped me see why I’ve had similar feelings. Each week, I think I’ll drive to TN to pick up some things and see a few people (safely), but then I change my mind for any number of reasons.

This is all to say that you aren’t necessarily losing your mind and that the lowered cognitive abilities you are experiencing are most likely temporary.

In the midst of this comes the news (that isn’t really new) that the streets are filling with protesters who have reached a breaking point after one more murder of an unarmed Black man. George Floyd has brought people together who may have otherwise been too preoccupied with work, studies, and other obligations to respond with such a fulsome and universal outpouring. It’s both distressing and heartening. As I ministered through the nineties and early 2000s, it was almost impossible to get students to engage in numbers over any number of tragedies and inequities. The changes we see are exciting. My daughter, out of work, has devoted herself to the movement in Lexington full time. Our former exchange student in Germany has been involved. No doubt you know and know of people who have risked their safety by hitting the streets. It is both terrifying (because of the physical danger and potential exposure) and beautiful. Read this article about Nashville teens who started a peaceful march that drew 10,000. It will be years before we can fully comprehend the gifts that this tragic interlude has made possible.

I had a mentor who taught me this: Can you wait until the stream clears and you can see what lies beneath? In other words, have even more patience than you ever thought you could. We are going to come out on the other side.

In the meantime, those of us who aren’t ready to march in person can support organizations and individuals who are. I trust your wisdom to find those entities and give what you can. Our congregation will be realigning our goals for the year. You have exceptional leaders who embody wisdom, compassion, intellect, and knowledge. Embrace them!

Together we can study and learn. I’m going to have us start a community read of Ibram X Kendi’s book, How to be an Antiracist. Start by getting the book, and commit to the discussions we can have with one another. There will be a communal read with other congregations, and a chance to meet the author next Spring. I will provide dates and other details soon. “See” you in church later this month and , meanwhile, stay in touch! I am here if you need me.

I am purchasing several copies of the Community Read book, How to be an Antiracist. If you'd like to use one of these, just let me know! Cynthia

Love, Cynthia

Hello and a virtual hug!

I’m sharing several pieces of news today.

First, I have been working to become familiar with interfaith and faith-based groups in Nashville. Some of these are NOAH, Pray for Nashville, Interdenominational Ministers, “Rabbi & Reverend” Weekly Discussions, Gamaliel Faith Leaders, Gideon’s Army, West Nashville Clergy and the Atlantic Institute.

That brings me to the current crisis around policing and racial profiling. (Of course, this is not new but it’s being addressed and exposed in ways not seen before.) Because of the pandemic and quarantine, most of us can not go to the many protests, vigils, and meetings, as much as we’d love to. I hope you are finding ways to donate money, supplies, and time (for example making calls) to the NAACP, M4BL, Black Lives Matter, and in our own city, NOAH and others leading the movement. Or, perhaps you can read something to yourselves or to the children in your life. You can study so that you are informed. I am re-reading James Cone’s Black Theology and Black Power.

Children’s BOOK click here.

Our congregation along with FUUN contributed over $10,000 to Black-led organizations through a grant and your donations. These funds for tornado relief, but they have opened up points of entry with the Black organizers. Again, this is not to take away from the many here who have advocated, contributed, and worked in the city of Nashville and beyond.

We’ve ordered a Black Lives Matter flag and will display the flag when it arrives. I’m aware that in the past, concerns were expressed about the choice of flags. It seems to me that now is the time to put those to rest. Here are some questions you may have:

Will it change anything? Maybe not, but neither will our silence. My experience, having been an Interim at one of the first congregations to post a Black Lives Matter billboard/sign in 2015 in very conservative South Jersey, is that while five years on, many things have not changed, the process changed all of us. It opened doors and hearts, including the hearts of the congregation.

Will it endanger our facility or our members? In the NJ congregation, the sign was defaced and replaced numerous times. Racism is not confined to the South! When we got threatening messages, we traced them and found they came from other parts of the country. Nonetheless, members of the Atlantic City Muslim community (this is a Black organization in AC) attended many services and stood in the back by the doors. Even with all the vitriol, and five years later, no attacks other than the defacing of the sign have occurred. The fact that a BLM sign might put us in danger leads to two observations: We see that even the words, “Black Lives Matter” are enough to anger people. Two, we recognize that people of color wake every day to danger and threat just living their daily lives.

But what about the bad things BLM has supposedly done? Black Lives Matter is not an authoritarian or even a centralized organization. The fact that a person or person who is using those words did something you see as bad or wrong is no aspersion on the movement.

Do we want to be anti-police? Isn’t that what Black Lives Matter stands for? That is an over-simplification and a tactic used to discredit this widely accepted mantra and group. As I told you months ago, the opposite of Black Lives Matter is not All Lives Matter; it is Black Lives Don’t Matter. Even large corporations like Amazon and Facebook are now saying BlackLivesMatter. Here’s a message from Calm, a mainstream app for meditation and stories.

Read more about the BLM Movement here.

 Black Lives Matter is a central target of disinformation and you are a key line of defense. Report suspicious sites, stories, ads, social accounts, and posts about BLM.

Please read all you can about these questions and, if you still have concerns, let me or a member of leadership know, and we will listen.

As much as I miss seeing you in person, I accept that for now, we must keep our distance. It’s difficult and wearying, isn’t it? Know you are all in my thoughts each day, as I walk, meditate, read and study. I love you! I know you are brave and determined. I am working on ways we can be better connected. We can do this.

Cynthia

Hello to all:

I’m sharing with you my contribution to the Ministry Days celebration for 25/50 years of service. On June 4, 2020, I will celebrate twenty-five years of UU ministry. I can’t think of a better place to be now than with GNUUC (even if it’s on screens for now!)

As I return to my usual duties, I shall be working closely with our leadership to plan how best to serve you in the coming weeks/months. To be honest, we can’t know what lies ahead! But we can make plans and change them if need be.

I shall be setting up virtual office hours so that you can make appointments to me via Zoom. I’ll also be continuing to host a Faith & Fiction reading group every Friday. We’re read Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. Just let me know if you’d like to join! You can get it on Kindle today or buy a used copy for a few dollars.

As Garrison Keillor has always said: Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

The Waking

BY THEODORE ROETHKE

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.   
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.   
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.   
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground!   I shall walk softly there, 
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how? 
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair; 
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do  
To you and me; so take the lively air, 
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.   
What falls away is always. And is near.   
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.   
I learn by going where I have to go.

Twenty-five years ago, I was welcomed into this ministry with a Charge from one of the greats, Gordon McKeeman. He was already retired but had briefly filled in at the small Shenandoah Valley congregation I was ordained by. His words to them (and me) were: Stop comparing her to me. I was a speaker; she is your minister now. I was (and still am) very introverted. I was full of doubt that I could do the most basic tasks of ministry: pastoral care; preaching week after week; tending to the dying and their loved ones.

But that self-doubt provided one thing that was essential: humility. I entered this profession with a beginner’s mind. I listened to my elders, to those with experience, and to community leaders. I learned that my passion for racial justice was a fire that would carry me into the public sphere, and like the words of Roethke, I learned by going: to Ecuador, to Geneva, to Transylvania, to Biloxi, to Alabama. And by going to a congregant’s home, helping clean up the blood and bone of her adult son, who’d ended his life, by going to the home of our custodian, who died of carbon monoxide in his own garage. And by going to marches, rallies, vigils and press conferences going deep into friendship with Black families, congregations, and communities. My call was originally an inkling, a hunch. It became manifest to me through listening, learning, and through my own courage and conviction.

I still have doubts and questions, even on the verge of retirement: was it worth all that I and my loved ones lost? Did I do anything at all worthy of the title “Reverend”? And, as is human, I sift back through the detritus of those decades, with remorse for my sins of commission, but mostly of omission. Would I do it again? In the good moments, I feel certain that I took the right path. Other times, not so much.

But these questions rarely nag me today. I hope I still have humility. But I know I have a perspective born of a multitude of learnings that both kept me sane and helped me evolve in this maddening, frustrating, and disillusioning yet grace-filled work: Family systems; 12-step work; spiritual director training; disciplines of yoga and meditation, a sense of humor. Still, if I had to choose one thing that has sustained me, it would be the people: so many loving, brave, generous, noble, and committed people of all ages who have encouraged, companioned, challenged, and tolerated me through all of my fumbling and learning. So many of them live on in just memory now. But it is in their honor that I celebrate my service. I couldn’t have done it without them.

Our South Jersey Shore congregation in 2015. After Charleston SC, we sent flowers to an AME congregation is sympathy. Many of them joined us as we put our sign by the busy road. We were one of the earliest UU Churches to do so. It led to many, many good things!

A sampling of the foods one might find at Iftar

Dear Friends,

I could use your support! This week, I’ve scheduled an online Iftar program with members of the (progressive) Muslim community. I guarantee you that next year (I hope we will be having small gatherings by then) you’ll be welcomed in person and experience the warm hospitality and incredible food of our interfaith neighbors. This would be a wonderful opportunity to learn more about the Islamic faith traditions, especially for kids! Think about it and contact Jesse Spencer-Smith (or me if you have questions). We only have a few folks taking part so far! Thanks for considering this. You do not need to eat at that time, just listen in, and it should be about an hour or 90 minutes in length.

Second, I have not yet committed to this but I think it would be great! We’ve been invited by a few members of the Temple to join in an online book discussion of Ibram X Kendi’s book, How to be an Antiracist. There have been a number of initiatives on anti-racism, but I believe this will be special and unique. Would you be willing to obtain the book and read it, then join in discussions? Let me know, so that I can set up an introductory meeting. Learn more about Kendi here. And let me know via email or text if you are interested.

This group has been coordinated by Irwin Venick, a Nashville attorney and member of the Temple.

There is so much in today’s world that divides us, and that pits people against one another, people who should have common cause. This pandemic has been a great leveler, affecting royalty, famous entertainers, and people living unhoused, but it also made clear that the risk factors and treatment and mitigation efforts have not been equal whatsoever.

What can we do with the rage and bitterness we feel about injustice, racism, and divisiveness? One thing is true: Doing nothing, saying nothing, is to be complicit.

We can study. We can discuss. Educate ourselves and one another. Make sure our children and teens come of age with morally and ethically sound information. We can accept invitations across boundaries of faith and culture. We can meditate, pray, and listen with compassion. Please consider taking part in one of these activities with me?

From my heart to yours,

Cynthia

Whenever Eric runs a quick (and protected) errand to the pharmacy or grocery, he comes back and says It’s so strange out there. I haven’t been far from my house and it’s easy for me to see, on our 26-acre property that spring 2020 did not get the memo about hiding, stopping, or wearing a mask. She has revealed herself in the usual glorious unfolding, and the difference is that many of us have the time and the inclination to watch more closely.

We have a hidden clearing in our woods where, always on May 1st, an array of irises bloom each year. They aren’t your typical irises, though. They are dwarf irises, tiny but complete. I always think of them as the kids of the grown-up irises that grow elsewhere.

We’ve owned our farm for almost 15 years, but I’ve missed the bloom numerous times. I may have been traveling, or, like last year, unable to hike into the woods to find them because I was having a hip replacement May 1st. But other times I was just too busy.

It seems to me completely incredible that I could have been too busy! But there you have it. And yet, I know the irises were still blooming even with no appreciative onlooker. I think our faith is like this. Whether you believe in the God of your understanding; the goodness of your fellow humans; or just the inevitable unfolding of time in eternity, you must not miss being surprised by the gifts of this Universe. I love seeing Lillie and Alice popping in and out of our Zoom services. I treasure the little piece of art Sandy sent me with some homemade masks. I’ve received some emails and notes from you that are precious to me.

I hope (and intend) that when I return in the flesh (no I am not Jesus), I can express more adequately how grateful I am to work and play with you, and I encourage you to take a moment each day to express your gratitude for the little surprises of life and our faith community that may be hidden from us in our busyness but revealed in the spaciousness that is now our reality.

I’m not able to make as many calls as I’d like to. But please text me or email me if you need to talk and we shall set something up. For other needs, remember that our Pastoral Care team is still active and will be available as they are able with restrictions in place.

And, finally, I am so grateful to GNUUC for acting quickly to ensure that our Staff will continue to be compensated as we work for you from a distance. Please know that maintaining or increasing your pledge now will ensure that our physical plant and your sanctuary of place and faces shall be there for you, as soon as it is safe!

Love and gratitude to all,

Cynthia

Happy Earth Day!

Not only is today earth day; it’s the 50th anniversary of earth day! Do you recall the first one? I was 15, so I’m sure I was aware of it, but I didn’t feel like it really affected me. From where I lived and moved, the earth looked fine. Even years later, when I was in my early thirties and took an 8 week trip around the USA with my two (then young) sons, I clearly recall feeling so reassured by the vast and beautiful land, and I remember thinking that with all this wilderness, surely the earth could survive and thrive.

I never read Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. I started recycling when it became mandatory. I wasn’t at all alarmed when the beaches I spent every summer enjoying would have clumps of oil and trash wash up some days. To me, there was pollution, but it was far off and couldn’t affect me.

This was my denial. I avoided things that were too fatalistic and grim about pollution and the consequences of overpopulation and climate change. But as I learned more, grew in wisdom and understanding, and widened my horizons beyond my own limited perspective, I could no longer stay in the safe but artificial harbor.

We know so much more now, and we also know that climate change affects those who are underprivileged and disenfranchised the most. And that’s true here in the good old USA, too. Like the recent tornado in our city, like this pandemic, it is the homeless, the poor, and people of color who are being most affected, who do not have the resources to change things.

We must be the ones who help move the needle for those who can not. “There is no hierarchy of oppressions,” Audre Lorde taught us. People of color, immigrants, those with mental illness, and homeless people are feeling the trickle-down effects of our lust, greed, and willful ignorance.

It’s painful and frightening to face the worst effects and the potential destruction of climate change. Part of that pain comes from our despair at how little we can help. May this time of radically slowed commerce and movement be a lesson that helps us change.

Click here for a wonderful piece by a UU minister

Love and hope to you on Earth Day. Yours, Cynthia

Dear Friends,

I spoke in my weekly video about a meeting I’ve been attending with local clergy and faith leaders and shared a question that we contemplated today.

Here’s the question:

Some have made reference to the city of Venice, Italy where the canals appear clean and free of pollution because the lack of travel on the waterways has allowed the silt to settle to the bottom.  The water is clear and some claim they have actually seen fish for the first time in many years.  So here’s the question, “What moments of clarity have you discovered over the past few weeks as you allow the murky, cloudy silt of every-day life to drain away?  What do you now see more clearly?  What daily complications have been removed that allow you to think and respond to others with greater insight?”

I would love to hear your responses! Reach me by email at cyncain@gnuuc.org or text me at 859 221 3034.

A group of us have been reading and discussing short stories. It started with the women’s covenant group, and let me tell you, there are some wise and thoughtful women in that group! I am learning as much as I’m teaching (but that’s nearly always the way).

Would you like to join in? We meet for about 45 minutes on Friday at noon CT. If you send me a text or an email, I will send you this week’s story, which is called Short Friday, and was written by Isaac Bashevis Singer. We welcome all GNUUC members who’d like to join!

This Sunday, I will begin by sharing some philosophical ideas about education. Even though I have aversion to much of what’s called “public education,” all four of my kids went to public school and I myself taught in a public high school for 5 years, and in a community college for about 3 years. In Kentucky I served on a “No Child Left Behind” initiative for years, and worked closely with statewide educators and superintendents… Please don’t think this is a reflection upon teachers! It is indeed the brilliant and devoted teachers who made public education worthwhile for my kids, two of whom were aces at that type of learning, and the oldest and youngest who are atypical. (Casey was never diagnosed, but he hated to read and couldn’t spell, and had anxiety about tests, so I suspect some learning disability was there.) It’s really the philosophy that undergirds the American education system that I find harmful. I believe kids can benefit from public school so long as they are also homeschooled and unschooled. I’ll say more about that on Sunday, as well as a bit about education in the time of pandemic.

Then I will move to how this philosophy can apply to our situation today. What can be learned and how best can we learn?

One thing I deeply believe in is that being part of a congregation, especially a UU congregation, is vital for kids. The ability to interact across generations, and the way our RE programs encourage questioning and individuality have made all the difference in so many lives. I’ll say more about that, too.

I also want to tell you how much your leaders at GNUUC are doing! From getting the Sunday service online to taking care of the financial business to helping one another to stay in contact and have needs met, these folks are keeping the spirit and the presence of your congregation alive and well. You know who they are! Thank them and reward them by attending the service so they can see your face and hear your concerns. You can also make their hard work a bit lighter by contacting Jesse Spencer-Smith to renew and maybe even increase your annual pledge. We are entering the annual pledge campaign and it will be a bit more challenging than usual!

One thing I see clearly in these translucent waters i how incredibly fortunate I am to be serving this congregation.

Thank You & Love,

Cynthia