March 4, 2020: Minister's Notes
How quickly things can change!
We awoke on Tuesday to the horrible news of the tornado in Nashville. I was at home in KY, and I hated the feeling of being separated from this city, which I have come to love. As we learned that our members and our building weren’t personally affected, I felt relief, yet I know that it is now time to reach out and help others. Nashville is our home, and it surprised me to find that I felt so deeply attached in such a short time.
And the disaster will affect us all: the folks at FUUN have also mostly escaped harm, but when I last I spoke, they were still canvassing members, and I learned that some of their members knew two of the deceased. Places you love and which are a part of your narrative were ripped to shreds leaving scenes that evoke the apocalypse.
I am so impressed by the way you all reached out to others and particularly grateful to our Pastoral Care team, who were immediately on top of making connections.
Carol, Mike, Theresa, David, Sarajane, Loretta, and Sandy are the current members. You can contact any one of them for needs. Some are trained caregivers and some just have the wisdom that comes from experience, sometimes painful experience.
I am going to suggest that our congregation pool our gifts of money so that we can make a real difference rather than drops in a deep bucket. I’ve reached out and hope to have chosen a fund or project that will benefit communities of color, historically marginalized or disadvantaged groups, such as LGBTQ+ persons, or other groups who may not be at the top of some groups’ giving list. Please let me know immediately if you can suggest a group or fund that we can give to.
I also learned mid-day Tuesday that a friend who was only one year older than I had died suddenly. His daughters went to Spanish Immersion school with Marjorie; we’d gone to his home many times; both my son and my husband were in his History class during their undergrad years. He had been an icon in Lexington: liberal, outspoken, and beloved. He had occasionally attended the UU Church, but had no formal religious affiliation. No one expected him to die. The shock in and around Lexington is palpable.
You might think: Well, one guy died, and it’s sad, but look around at Nashville! There have been a thousand deaths, of hopes, dreams, visions, and memories.
That’s a funny thing about grief. It can be more devastating in some circumstances than in others we think would be far worse. With Jake Gibbs, his loss is deeply felt by so many, because he stood for all that was open, progressive, and wise about Lexington. More than just a person has been lost. From a fellow council member: “Our community has lost a ‘Rockstar’ in regards to local politics,” Brown said. “His positive demeanor made him easy to talk to about making Lexington safer, greener, more pedestrian and cyclist friendly. He was a regular guy with big heart, he loved his family, his friends and this community. I consider it an honor to have served with him on council, but it was truly an honor to be his friend.”
Jake (more here) was a champion for the underserved and underprivileged, both as a teacher and as a City Council member. He was the champion of a vision that is so very threatened in this world. Those who mourn him also grieve for the demise of democracy, civility, and integrity in our public sphere..
So it will be in Nashville. You may not have had a personal loss or a loss of property, but nonetheless you will grieve. Something that you are part of and that is a part of you has died, and will never be the same.
More on Sunday as we look at wisdom, age, and loss.
Cynthia