In Sunday’s sermon, I mentioned the destructive and tragic event that took place in Nashville on December 25th. I started to say “bombing,” but I was impelled to say “terrorism” since I had read so much and contemplated not just the events surrounding the explosion but the post on social media made by the Gideon’s Army organization (above.) Since we made a contribution to them after the tornado, I have followed their activities. In late December, I took part in required training for people who want to volunteer with them. I did this because I would love for some of us to work more closely with them as the pandemic ebbs and I don’t ask you to do what I will not do myself. I was so impressed with the welcome and wisdom of the leaders, and the open-hearted, generous but firm and clear reminders that when white people come into Black and Brown space, there are certain caveats we must remember.

One of those is to center the voices of POC (People of Color.) That does not mean to silence or ignore other voices, but to pay particular attention to the ways in which marginalized voices have been left out. The point Gideon’s Army was making may seem too extreme for some: what is terrorism? And yet, the question they ask: how might the words have been chosen had the suicide bomber been an immigrant, a person of color, or of a different faith, is one worth considering. As UUs, we are never afraid to ask and discuss those hard questions! I welcome and encourage these discussions.

This stands in contrast to other anti-racism efforts I’ve encountered and gives me so much hope for Nashville (as do NOAH and other organizations).

I hope you’ve had a chance to view the video of the lecture given by Rasheedat Fetuga, the founder of Gideon’s Army, at FUUN this Fall. CLICK HERE to see it if you have not! If you don’t follow her, or Gideon’s Army, you may not know that her son has been in the hospital with severe injuries. There is a meal donation service that is set up to provide meals from restaurants and food services via donations, called “Meal Train.” I was able to donate FOR GNUUC, so thank YOU for funding a Minister’s Discretionary account! I was excited to learn about this service, and I thought, BRILLIANT! We could use this ourselves to organize meals for folks who need them.

CLICK HERE to see Rasheedat’s page and to learn more about Meal Train. It works for families as well as for organizations!

When I come across something like this, I’m likely to think, wow! That seems so simple. But it took a creative and imaginative way of looking at a challenge in order to make it happen in the world. In the coming weeks, I will be talking about how we can harness our own individual as well as collective imaginations to come up with ways to meet the challenges as well as opportunities for GNUUC.

Stay Tuned!

Downtown Springfield, KY in snow, on the left, our erstwhile Airbnb, a “failure” of sorts, but a big lesson!

Today, Willow came to visit and we found a bag of Playmobil toys that were in with our holiday stuff. Some years ago, it was a Nativity scene. I made an effort to explain the Christmas story to Willow, but since she attended a Jewish preschool and her mom is atheist, she got Jesus mixed up with Moses and talked about how he was floating in the river and the King tried to kill him. I looked but could not find any baby Jesus nor anything that resembled Mary. There were lots of animals and even a Santa Claus.

Looking everywhere for Jesus is sort of the liberal Christian story. Finally, we realize that whatever we needed to learn from the Christmas myth and the parables of Jesus are already within us. In fact, not only are they not outside of us, we will never find them, anywhere, not in things, not in people, not in places. The Divine Child lives within us as Truth, as innocence, as hope.

That’s why Sophia Lyon Fahs, a UU educator who became a Minister in her mid-seventies (she lived to be 101), said, “Every night a child is born is a holy night.”

I know not every UU finds prayer helpful. Those of us who pray don’t appeal to a personal God who is listening to our petitions. But praying is a way to distill our deepest longings, to focus our grief, to turn over control of life, and let things unfold as they will. It is a way of honoring our divine child and our interiority, much like listening to our dreams, and tapping into archetypal themes. In that regard, the Christ child story is very much a part of the collective wisdom.

The value of the Christmas story is that we can always believe that something good will happen, something is always being born, humans will continue to persevere and humanity will prevail

I look forward to seeing you on Christmas Eve…. and beyond! With Love, Cynthia

And here’s the picture from today’s Advent calendar!

Marjorie as Gerda in the Snow Queen (addendum to today’s advent calendar)

I feel certain that this holiday season will be both one we remember and one that we take the time to remember holidays past. I know for some of us the notion of nostalgia about the holidays is downright absurd. Even if you did not have a single moment of joy to speak of, try to find some way in which you were gladdened, through something you saw, listened to, or had someone relay to you.

I’ve already told you that the days between Thanksgiving are the most challenging time of year for me.
Starting with my Dad’s only brother, who died Thanksgiving night, through the loss of my first child, my mother’s death anniversary, my nephew Jim (who died of overdose/suicide 15 years ago this Sunday,) my Uncle Jay Dee Patton’s death on Christmas eve, and any number of family fights and addiction challenges, I have to search to find an unscathed memory.

What helps me most is to lower my expectations, as Don Juan told Castaneda, “to almost nothing.”

We would have been in New Mexico this year with my son Colin and his partner Liana. Of course, we had to cancel. Sadly, very sadly, Colin and Liana have split up as well. We are grieving the loss to our family.

As the years go by, I treasure reading holiday poems and stories, listening to music, and simple pleasures of the arts and of nature. I have to think of it as a gift to myself. My personal favorite is A Child’s Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. What is yours?

So besides taking time to remember, take some time to re-member your spirit, to bring the scattered pieces of your heart and your dreams back together, however that looks to you.

Please plan to join your church family on Christmas Eve for some festive and thoughtful time. You will get information about how to join and when the recorded service will be available in plenty of time!

Until then, stay warm and stay safe!

Cynthia

Here we all were, one year ago today, blithely unaware of all that would come to pass in just one year’s time!

In some regards, most of us have been forced to be less active this past 9-10 months. It is hoped that we’ve done some exercise, some stretching, and even some bit of going outdoors. I’m not sure whether “stillness” has a near enemy, but if it did, it would be inertia or sedentariness, both seen as not very helpful. But I’d like to distinguish between “stillness” and “silence.”

Rarely, if ever, do we experience complete silence. There was a time, some years ago, when I said that I could go out to the ridge on my farm and experience silence. Yes, it came close, but in reality, there was always something, even if it was a breeze, a faint birdcall, or an insect’s buzz. Now, our neighbors have cows, the others have horses, and the ones with cows have goats. The nearest neighbors have three young children. Even now, it is very quiet out there. There are moments that feel silent. Bur I’ve also developed tinnitus, so there you have it!

Silence can be a command as well as a descriptive noun. For people who’ve been raised in constrictive atmosphere, made to keep quiet or keep secrets, to be silenced is to be told to lie, dissemble, or kill off part of oneself.

Here are some uses of silence that evoke its negative connotation.

* blue wall of silence * cone of silence * conspiracy of silence * deafening silence * moment of silence * radio silence * silence is golden * tower of silence * two-minute silence * vow of silence * wall of silence

Stillness is different.

We can be very still and discover vast worlds within. It’s terrifying though. That’s why most people have an aversion to stillness and silence. We listen, talk, move, fidget, go, travel, consume, watch.

I’m pretty sure we come to church to balance this busy-ness of mind, and this perpetual movement of body. We give ourselves one hour to be still, mostly silent, and to reflect, learn, feel safe and supported.

It matters. And even if it doesn’t matter for you, remember that your quiet presence matters a great deal to others who would otherwise be alone, and lonely.

Love, Cynthia

** We will be talking about stillness this Sunday. We shall start with some lines from TS Eliot’s poem “Burnt Norton,” which is also part of his Four Quartets. You may wish to read it, or hear Eliot read it! Here’s a link for both: CLICK HERE for recording. CLICK HERE for the text.

Greetings,

How goes it with your soul?

Wait… Soul, you say? What I mean by soul is nearly what Carl Jung meant, or seemed to me to mean, although for Jung and his intellectual progeny, something like “soul” couldn’t be exactly quantified.

This definition comes from Thomas Moore in Care of the Soul:

It is impossible to define precisely what the soul is. Definition is an intellectual enterprise anyway; the soul prefers to imagine. We know intuitively that soul has to do with genuineness and depth, as when we say certain music has soul or a remarkable person is soulful. When you look closely at the image of soulfulness, you see that it is tied to life in all its particulars—good food, satisfying conversation, genuine friends, and experiences that stay in the memory and touch the heart. Soul is revealed in attachment, love, and community, as well as in retreat on behalf of inner communing and intimacy. (Care of the Soul, xi-xii)

If the Jungian notion of soul intrigues you, click here for some further exploration.

So, when I ask, How goes it with your soul, what I mean to say is “how are you doing, not physically, not psychologically, not cognitively, not even emotionally… but something that is made up of all of these and something more, that elusive quality we may call soul or spirit?”

On Facebook, I posed the question, “On a scale of one to ten, how are you doing?”

About 2 dozen of my 1500 “friends” answered. The respondents included UU ministers, distant relatives, and high school classmates. I have no way of knowing how many saw it and didn’t reply. Their estimates ranged from a 3 to a 10, but most acknowledged that they went up and down depending upon the day. That seems perfectly understandable, given the current state of things.

What struck me was how honest and vulnerable people were.

One person even said, “thanks for asking.”

The thing is: just asking ourselves, or one another, this question is important. It may be uncomfortable at first, but it can lead to healing. If you think asking about their soul is a bit much, perhaps you could say, How are your spirits? I think you will be surprised at how much folks long to be listened to!

Ultimately, we might consider having fewer wild swings and more times on the upper end of the scale. That can be called equanimity.

In today’s meditation session, our teacher suggested we take time throughout the day to check in with ourselves. Three breaths. This, to me, is how we care for the soul. It doesn’t have to be complicated, or time consuming. Best of all, it’s free. Just breathing, knowing we are breathing, and knowing that there is wisdom available to us within, if we allow it space.

In December, our Soul Matters theme is “Stillness.” I hope you will join us in our Zoom gathering each Sunday for music and inspiration.

How is it with your soul?

Love, Cynthia

Watch this film to prepare for Sunday! (Then I can talk less!) Link here

What is the history of the UU faith when it comes to Indigenous/Native American/First Peoples history and future? I like to spend some time each year, between Indigenous People’s Day (still known as Columbus Day in many places) and Thanks “giving” Day (which is based upon a myth, partly true, but engineered to conveniently fit a White history) studying and reading about Indigenous issues.

How did you first hear about Indigenous people? Were they called “Indians” then? When did you first meet a Native American? What stereotypes did you have? Do you have different ones now? Are there both positive and negative stereotypes associated with them? Why do you think this is?

On Sunday, I’ve invited an acquaintance to join me at our service. I think you will love hearing about how she went about making change for Native Americans. Please join us!

Meanwhile, I sent you a link last week to some UUA-sponsored events for Indigenous Peoples’ Month. There are still a few left, including a service on Thanksgiving day. Even if you do not attend those, I recommend you watch this one-hour documentary, called Gathering. Click here for link (Password: Gather2020)

Looking with honesty and compassion upon the indigenous people of North America, it is very difficult to find hope. There is truly no way to describe what happened to these people other than to call it genocide. And worst of all, it continues. But finding hope, finding ways to help, and facing grim realities unflinchingly is what we UUs do. We are truth-seekers and truth-tellers. On Sunday, we will take a baby step forward together by acknowledging that there are at least a few ways we as individuals or as small groups can make a difference.

And that is something to be thankful for.

Russel Means and the American Indian Movement made strides toward sovereignty and tribal rights starting in 1968. Since then, gains have been thwarted by a variety of external and internal traumas.

George Railey (above) and Alec Thompson (below) are members of the Black community in Springfield, KY, who are direct descendants of Native Americans.

Alec Thompson holds a picture of his father, a Native American. Alex and his wife have 17 children, so the native ancestry is widespread in my community!

2020 Vision

Today I met with a group of West Nashville clergy that gathers monthly to share challenges and ideas. As we checked in, it seemed almost everyone felt discouraged, disheartened, or frustrated. It’s not surprising that anyone would feel that way, but I realized I’ve been wrong (again) in my assumption that once the election was behind us, we’d have a burst of energy and a renewed focus. The reality is that even for those (all on this Zoom meeting) who were encouraged by the results of the election, we as clergy were still facing months ahead of trying to do the impossible: to minister to human beings across a screen or over a phone.

Maybe you are feeling surprised at how less-than-joyful you are!

Here are a few of our shared observations:

The results of the election were an affirmation of hope, but also of horror. We can’t deny the reality of the numbers. Close to half our citizenry voted to keep someone in office who lies daily, has committed fraud and other serious crimes, and who has exhibited debauched and deranged behavior. Those aren’t conspiracy theories. Those are facts. They’re in the open. They can’t be disputed!

The long-predicted “second wave” of the pandemic feels like being knocked down by a wave before we’ve even stood up. We ourselves may feel protected, but we are sharply aware of how many are vulnerable and exposed to imminent death. We feel overwhelmed by our inability to change that.

Many of us who have experienced emotional abuse, gaslighting, and worse are being re-traumatized. Yes, we are glad this administration will change. But we have had the blinders removed from our sight. We see things more clearly now than ever.

Even without the election, coronavirus has done this for us. As we find ourselves isolated, removed from so many of our distractions, we may begin to recognize things about ourselves that make us uncomfortable. Our vision becomes clear, and with that clarity a sense of despair can arrive.

(I fully realize how many distractions are still at our fingertips. For me, it’s fine to “escape” sometimes, yet I try to take advantage of all the virtual events and offerings to learn more about me, my vocation, and how better to be human. Elsewhere, you’ll see links for several, including a Nashville Thanksgiving Interfaith service that I recommend.)

Do not despair! You are not alone; you are part of a loving and compassionate community. Remember the saying: the truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable? I believe that acknowledging the truth is the only thing that will lead us closer to freedom, as individuals, as community, as civilization.

One minister shared this poem by Martha Postlewaite:

Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.

This is my dad’s only brother, who died when I was fourteen, on the night of Thanksgiving. He’d just earned his PhD.

I can hardly believe it’s been just a week since I wrote this column. We now know the results of the 2020 election, and we stand on the precipice of a brighter future. I feel certain that how we interpret this moment says much about our outlook: are we basically pessimistic, superstitious, hopeful, fearful, anxious, cynical, or upbeat?

None of those attitudes would be unwarranted, given the facts! Still, it turns out that the way we interpret the facts has everything to do with how we engage the world, how we live, and how we will leave it.

There are things we can do about how we look at what is happening. That has perhaps never been more clear than it is in our public life right now. Are we decent people who can find a way forward, or are we threatened by forces from without and within against whom we must secure our borders and hoard our resources? And on and on.

It is often said in jest that UUs believe in at most one God.

But even UUs who are agnostic or atheist often consider themselves Humanists. They believe then in the innate goodness and worthiness of humans. We believe that all are worthy of love and none are beyond redemption. True, some have behaved so despicably and done such widespread damage that it is beyond our ability to grant them forgiveness. The best we can do is to shift our energies toward repairing the damage.

It seems almost perfectly plotted that the holiday season is upon us. Now, along with the ever-worsening pandemic, we have to make some form of contact with our families of origin and our loved and/or tolerated relations. This Sunday, along with some help from a few other GNUUC members, we shall look at how we do that. How do we confront the stories of holidays past and make sense of them, whether joyful, painful, or a mix of both, to give us grounding and wisdom as we approach another season?

I found that every year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, some tragedy would occur: illness, accident, injury, loss. It wasn’t until after I tried to make this time “happy” by getting married on December 18th (the marriage didn’t last) that I learned about anniversary grief. My mother died on December 10th, 1960 and there was a pall over our family… nothing supernatural, just unresolved trauma… that haunted us.

Thanksgivings and the holidays have continued to be unsettled for me, but my understanding and expectations of them and the tools I have to get through them have helped me, and I hope they help you as well.

See you Sunday.

With Love,

Cynthia

As I write, the outcome of the 2020 election is still uncertain, but it does not look good for Democrats, which includes most UUs. How shall we respond if the country turns itself over to be governed for four more years by someone we consider at best reprehensible and at worst diabolical?

First, we give ourselves time to grieve. For the days ahead, there will be shock, denial, and lots of anger and rage. Accept that. Let it flow through you and don’t rationalize it. Even if Trump doesn’t win, we are seeing an endorsement of policies and cruelties we could never have imagined our fellow citizens would condone. Now, we know for sure. We know that people have seen all of this and still voted for it. It’s shocking and horrifying.

Please indulge in some self-care. Talk to loved ones. If you don’t think you need that, they may. Bathe, eat something wonderful, bake, walk outdoors, sleep, watch a movie, read a book that takes you to a distant place and time.

Remember you are loved.

And remember: you have made the wise decision to be part of a thinking, compassionate, community who have gathered, week after week, to face reality, to face life and death as they truly are, to face them together, and to do our part to preserve the world and its people.

I find that my fear this morning is most centered upon my friends, colleagues, and loved ones who will be most affected if this madness continues: Pansy, who waits for her husband, deported to Mexico, to be able to return, and whose fellow members of the local Black community have been hit hard by Covid; my Buddhist teacher Caitriona, a transwoman and all of the trans people whose very existence is at stake; my son and so many others who rely upon health care subsidized by the ACA and who would likely not be here today had they not had it; … you know the list. And I know your fears and compassion are for others as well. Here, close to home, and throughout the world, whose suffering will go unmet due to this administration’s cruelty.

And our deep sadness and grief come not just for us, but for those we know, and those we shall never meet, those yet unborn, who will suffer because of the selfishness and foolishness or the simple lack of clarity of half of this country.

We will get through this together. And, whatever happens, we will need one another more than ever.

It feels as if we are hanging by a thread, but indeed, the entire Universe has been in great peril for far longer than we’d like to acknowledge. The sooner we can come to terms with that, the sooner we can face the imminence of our own dying as well as the dying of life as we know it, the actions we can take in these moments become crystal clear. I believe my job is to companion you and challenge you that we may face these realities together. The thread can be a thread of connection, love, and humanity with which we connect our hearts and minds to serve and protect.

As they say in 12 Step programs, where people hang by a thread day by day, keep coming back. We can do this. Never never ever give up.

See you Sunday,

Cynthia