What New Land?

I'm using the following text for this Sunday's sermon...

Beyond the Hills
by Rev. Samuel H. Miller

What lies beyond the hills?

Restless hearts, pilgrim feet -- these cannot be restrained from finding out.

Whatever is beyond the hills tingles in the air, and, like a far off trumpet call, hangs in the bright silence of the sky, easily heard despite the noise of trade and the shouts of busy men.

Once heard, the ear cannot forget, the eyes will look beyond the things they see, and the soul will stand and wait on tireless tip-toe for the first word of faith.

For such [people], the ruts and routines of what has already been established cannot be home. Their spirits are marked with the sign of Him who created the earth out of nothing, and the power of that image will give them strength to forfeit everything for the new life.

Beyond the hills -- beyond this rim of habit, this solid circle of established repetition, this rampart that hems us in and makes us safe, is there a land waiting to be “opened up”?

Or is the bulwark so high or so mighty that we shall not hear the silver spears of trumpets shattering the sky, or that hearing we shall not have the courage to go despite uncertainty and peril?

Unless a man loses his life, shall he find it?

from What Child is This: Reading and Prayers for Advent/Christmas by Samuel H. Miller

If this is not a call to transformative ministry, I don't know what is. What land waits for us beyond the hills, tingling in the air? And do we have the courage to go?

Sometimes I am afraid I do not. Sometimes I am entirely sure I do not. But every time I read this, it calls me more strongly to task.

This is not about roads diverging in a yellow wood. The way to life abundant does not lay neatly paved before us, if we would only choose correctly. This is about forging a new path altogether. There is risk here, and hard work. But think what kind of land we could reach!

My friends, what new land do you think lays beyond the hills? And what resources have we for forging the path there?

Psalm 85: 10-13

Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;
righteousness and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.
The Lord will give what is good,
and our land will yield its increase.
Righteousness will go before him,
and will make a path for his steps.

Rest for your souls

Recently I've been hearing from friends and congregants and colleagues that they are feeling exhausted. And I'm right there with them. We've begun the sprint to January that seems to begin right after Halloween. And it's exhausting... but who has time to be tired?

The holidays are coming! This is no time to be tired!

There is injustice abounding! This is no time to be tired!

There is a movement happening! This is no time to be tired!

Alright then... we must rest. The world needs our light; which means we must not burn out.

Mother Teresa tells us "Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. How does a lamp burn? Through the continuous input of small drops of oil. If the drops of oil run out, the light of the lamp will cease, and the bridegroom will say, I do not know you. (Matthew 25:12) My daughters, what are these drops of oil in our lamps? They are the small things of daily life: faithfulness, punctuality, small words of kindness, a thought for others, our way of being silent, of looking, of speaking, and of acting. These are the true drops of love...
Be faithful to small things because it is in them that your strength lies."

What are the small things that fuel your love? Let us remember those things, and find rest.

Look Around, You Are Not Alone

UU Vespers @ Occupy Boston

October 23, 2011

5:30pm

Look Around, You are Not Alone

a homily

by the Rev. Molly Housh Gordon

The following is often cited as a Medieval Jewish story:

A rabbi spoke with God about heaven and hell. "I will show you hell," God said, and they went into a room which had a large pot of stew in the middle. The smell was delicious, but around the pot sat people who were famished and desperate. All were holding spoons with very long handles which reached to the pot.

But because the handles of the spoons were longer than their arms, it was impossible to get the stew back into their mouths. They all tried to feed themselves the stew, but could never get even a bit.

"Now I will show you heaven," God said, and they went into an identical room. There was a similar pot of stew, and the people had identical spoons, but they were well nourished and happy. "It's simple," God said. "You see, they have learned to feed one another."

(The above was told with great energy and much improvement by the Rev. Tom Schade)

---

I was late to the Occupation. I waffled around for a couple of weeks, waiting to see what this thing would be before I threw my lot in with it.

Many people did the same, and the spiritual problem of caution is a rich topic for another time, but today I want to tell you why I am here.

It may be different from why you are here, and that, I’ve learned, is a beautiful thing.

What brought me here was our stories. The stories of the 99 percent. The stories of the 1 percent. The stories of solidarity, courage, worry, and love that are circling the internet and that live in this square, and in places like this all over the world.

These stories mirror my heartache. They mirror our heartache. That is why I am called, why we are called to be here.

Because here’s the thing. This economic system we’re in now... It is hell.

We’re sitting around the table with these long spoons, and we are starving.

This system is built upon the lie that we are independent, self-sufficient... and alone. And we are starving.

This system is built upon the sin that it’s every person for herself, so you better get yours, and as much as you can. And the 1% are trapped in it, and the 99% are trapped in it, and all of us are destined to starve.

All of us. Because there is no true nourishment in this broken and empty system, no matter how large the share you may possess.

That, in the end, is why I am here.

Because here, people are feeding each other.

(They’re feeding anyone who asks, actually.)

And right now, I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing that can save us.

This is not about a policy, though policies will follow.

This is not about class warfare, though our anger is righteous.

This is about turning away entirely from a culture that tells us we are alone.

This is about turning back to face each other once more.

And it is working.

Look around you...

People are sharing space. People are sharing supplies. People are sharing ideas.

People are sharing their stories. And that is how we are fed....

So if you feel alone in your fear for your future, look around. You are not alone.

If you feel alone in your anger and pain, look around. You are not alone.

And if you feel alone in your guilt and your shame... then too... look around. You are not alone.

If you feel alone in your gnawing hunger for justice? Look around this place, at these people gathered. You are far from alone.

...And if you feel alone in your hope, in that glowing core of faith that something better is possible?

Look at your neighbor.

Tell them this:

(Mic Check)

We are here.

We are hopeful.

You are not alone.

A Poem from Czeslaw Milosz

On Prayer

You ask me how to pray to someone who is not.
All I know is that prayer constructs a velvet bridge
And walking it we are aloft, as on a springboard,
Above landscapes the color of ripe gold
Transformed by a magic stopping of the sun.
That bridge leads to the shore of Reversal
Where everything is just the opposite and the word 'is'
Unveils a meaning we hardly envisioned.
Notice: I say we; there, every one, separately,
Feels compassion for others entangled in the flesh
And knows that if there is no other shore
We will walk that aerial bridge all the same.

Czeslaw Milosz