Jan 31, 2024

“Connection is why we’re here.
We are hardwired to connect with others,
it’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives,
and without it there is suffering.”
–Brené Brown, “Daring Greatly”

Beloveds,

In case you have lost track of the pagan calendar, this evening is the eve of Imbolc, the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Traditionally, it celebrates light, as sunlight steadily increases, and new beginnings, as in the first signs of spring. You might choose to mark it by lighting candles or a fire, baking, thinking about seeds (try this Carrie Newcomer song) or starting them, learning about Brigid–either the pagan goddess or the christian saint, or re/committing to the work of justice and equity (our Soul Matters theme for February).

Yours in the justice and equity undergirding true connection,

Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

“I sing beautiful in the winter woods, and the trees agree.”
–Peter Mayer, “Winter Woods”

Dear Ones,

To understand my week, you have to know a few things about me:

I like snow, especially when it accumulates in inches (and very especially when those inches are not mixed with ice!). I spent most of my childhood years in places with more (some significantly more) snow than we get here in the mid-South, so when we have enough snow in Nashville to pile up combined with enough cold to let it stick around for a few days, I’m not upset.

I live quite near the middle of Nashville. From our house, at certain times of year, we can see vehicles on one of the major interstate exchanges just outside downtown, and we can almost always hear them. (One of the best things about a good snow is the silence!) And due to the hilliness of Nashville’s terrain, we have a surprisingly large-ish, steeply-sloped backyard, full of a variety of very tall trees.

I love trees: all kinds, everywhere I go. Always have.

So this week I’ve been looking out the back window of my house & singing to the trees in my backyard, which are stunning with snow weighing down evergreen branches and outlining dark deciduous trunks and branches. Beautiful.

I know winter weather is a mixed blessing (I see windshield scraping in my near future), but I hope you remember to look for beauty in your winter days, and I hope you find it in whatever forms delight you most.

Yours in faith and beauty,

Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

P.S. First UU Nashville has invited us once again to the annual Palmer Lecture this coming Saturday (details below), featuring Nashville Councilwoman Olivia Hill, who is also our Bellevue neighbor and will be our guest speaker on Sunday, April 14. I hope some of us will attend the lecture in anticipation of our conversations with her!

Friends,

Even I have to admit that the holidays are over now. However, I want to encourage you to follow the rhythms of the winter season and protect a little time for rest and introspection. They are good for your soul, and what’s good for your soul is good for GNUUC and all the other communities of which you are a part!

Here’s a little musical inspiration from Carrie Newcomer: I Meant to Do My Work Today.

In faith and love,

Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

P.S. It is winter, and the weather here in middle TN is notably unpredictable. Remember that you can always find the latest news about Sunday services on our website. No matter what we decide about opening the church building, be sure to keep yourself safe and join us by Zoom if needed.

Dear Ones,

It was lovely to see so many of you at our recent holiday celebrations!

To bring us the new year, I have some very old words from the 14th-century Persian poet, Hafiz (excerpted from “Now is the Time”):

Now is the time to know
That all you do is sacred.

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time
For you to deeply compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

Yours in deep computation and the grace beyond computing,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

Beloveds,

This in-between week, I’m mostly spending time with my family and with myself. Here are a couple of offerings from other writers, the first a recent call to action from one of the most powerful faith-based justice leaders active in the U.S. these days, and the second a beloved blessing from an Irish poet/theologian/philosopher.

The gift we need to give the world this year is a moral consciousness that says, “some things we can never get used to.” We can't accept indiscriminate killing. We can't accept poverty. We just can't get used to it. Right now, the greatest gift the world needs is a serious moral conscience.

If we look at the Christmas story, it's a story about poor folks forced to travel across the desert because of poverty. It's a story about not having health care, about human beings being treated as animals. It's a story about a ruler crazed with his own power killing babies to try to stop people from being liberated. We need to reflect deeply that Christmas isn't just a time for us to be materialistic. It's a time for us to be deeply moral. How do we bring good will and peace to all human beings? That's what Christmas is about. It’s not about twinkly lights and how much money you can spend. It’s about the light of compassion, mercy and being better human beings.

Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II

Blessing to Come Home to Yourself

May all that is unforgiven in you
Be released.

May your fears yield
Their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unloved in you
Blossom into a future
Graced with love.

John O'Donohue

Yours in both the unrest and the peace of the season, and yours (as always) in love,

Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

"The stars pierce our hearts, peace envelops us, we are blessed.
We give thanks for the mystery and miracle of wonder.”
~[I have no idea, not credited where I saw it]

Beloveds,

Tomorrow and Friday are the shortest days of the year, and tomorrow night, the longest night. I’m hoping for the weather forecast to hold, with cold, clear skies and a good view of the moon and stars. Maybe take a pause to notice them and feel a little peace, a little wonder and mystery.

Ponder all that for a few days, then come to church on Sunday afternoon (not morning!) and mark the Christmas holiday our 19th-century Unitarian and Universalist ancestors loved so much by lighting candles in the dark.

Yours in the dark and the light,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

"I learned that you can tell a lot about a
person by the way he [sic] handles these three things:
a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.”
~Maya Angelou

Dear ones,

Whatever holidays you are currently celebrating (and however you spell them: Hanukkah or Chanukah) or anticipating (Midwinter/Jule, Christmas, New Year’s, Epiphany), I hope you are taking time to breathe deeply and rest. Because the rain & luggage troubles & tangles will be happening.

Remember to breathe and rest–you are so worth a little extra attention in this season!

Yours in love and faith,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

"Long gone are the days when we can just hang out with one another."
–Rev. Byron Tyler Coles
(UUA Southern Region staff)

Friends,

A few weeks ago I spent a Saturday afternoon at a gathering of Unitarian Universalists from across Tennessee and participated in a workshop on collaborative ministry offered by Tyler Coles and Cameron Young, both part of the UUA staff serving the Southern Region. (It was a joy to meet and talk with UUs from around the state!)

Cameron & Tyler (echoing ideas I’ve heard here and there over the last several years now) suggested that now is a quite new time for us, as UUs and as faith communities. We are still figuring out where we are, how things will work going forward, and how best to engage in our communal lives and projects right now. It may not be the best time for long-term strategic planning, we heard, but it is perhaps a time for prophetic imagination. I understand “prophetic imagination” to combine ways of thinking and planning that are prophetic in the sense of speaking to the current moment (not foretelling the future) and imaginative in the sense of creatively engaging with present and future possibilities. 

To me, this feels like an open-ended and inviting way to think about how to embody our congregational values going forward. What can we imagine doing within and beyond our walls to create the shared ministry imagined by GNUUC’s Board at the beginning of the fall for the 2023-24 church year? In case you haven’t thought of that “annual vision of ministry” recently, here it is:

Together, we will find a new way to be a smaller congregation that is loving and justice-seeking. 

We will do this by focusing our ministries around Radical Welcome, Kindness, and Empowerment.

We recognize that finding our way will require grace and courage to change, to encourage new ideas, and to share responsibilities across the entire congregation.

Perhaps we can’t discern the present (let alone the future!) well enough to picture clearly what lies ahead of us, but maybe prophetic imagination can inspire us to play with possibilities. As you read that vision of our year’s ministry, what do you imagine we could do or be? How can we build more connections, among ourselves perhaps, but especially with the wider communities surrounding us? What new ideas do we need to embrace in order to be radically welcoming, kind, and empowering? 

Send me or the Board (Board@gnuuc.org)  your thoughts, if you want…

Yours in prophecy and imagination, 
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org

"It is delightful to come across a wild juniper in the winter months, with her sweet and pine-scented berries and her delightful sprigs that offer friendship and hope through the darkest times."
–TheDruidsGarden.com

Friends,

Today, I’m looking out my window at a juniper tree (often called “cedar”), whose clusters of dark purple-blue “berries” (botanically very small cones) I noticed several weeks ago. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed those berries last year or the year before and subsequently discovered that these trees produce berries every 2-3 years, so perhaps my spotting it only this fall does not indicate a lack of observational prowess.

As you may have noticed, I love my office window. (That view, by the way, is shared through the sanctuary windows–so you could look for those juniper berries next time you’re here.) When I sit in my office or our sanctuary, I feel held by the land that surrounds me/us and am inspired and intrigued by all the beings I see going about their lives just beyond the glass. On many days, it is a great comfort to know and to be reminded that the hawks circle, the berries ripen, the leaves bud/grow/change/drop, the birds take shelter under our eaves, and the sun passes in regular patterns over it all–no matter what havoc human beings create in the world, no matter what pains or griefs we suffer, no matter even what joys and accomplishments we celebrate.

After a bit of research, I now know much more (most of which I’ll spare you) about juniper trees, some of it botanical, some herbal or medical (do not, warns WebMD, consume more than 10 grams of the berries at once!), some magical/spiritual, and some historical. To summarize very broadly, I think it is a fine thing to have a juniper tree positioned on the north side of our sanctuary. Among many people around the world and across time, juniper has been associated with warmth and preparation for winter, with defining and defending boundaries, with healing and regeneration of both animals (it’s antibacterial and antiviral) and the land (it de-acidifies soil and heals damaged landscapes), and with hope in dark times. The smoke of burning juniper has been used in many spiritual traditions for protection and connection to wisdom and the holy.

So today I send you blessings of the Juniper!

Yours in well-boundaried connection, warmth, healing, and hope,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org