Helene Young, at 101, visiting our UU Congregation in 2016. She is the sister of Peace Pilgrim, who walked all over the United States to promote peace and harmony.

First, many thanks to those of you who attended our virtual service this Sunday. I hope you enjoyed meeting Michele and hearing about her creative process. She sent me a note later saying: “What a lovely service and group.
Thank you for making me a part of that. Sweet dialogue in the breakout room.
Take care and much love,
Michele”

What I love about GNUUC is that I feel confident that you would welcome and appreciate our guests. Your openness to new and different ideas is impressive. Although it may seem like a no-brainer that we UUs would be curious and affirming, we are also opinionated, and outspoken. I am so grateful to have been working with you, and I feel a sense of grief and loss that it has been nearly a year since we’ve been together, shared a meal, exchanged hugs and greetings, laughed and listened to one another.

I don’t know about you, but I have felt unexpectedly sad since January. It’s true that the political situation has improved dramatically, yet at the same time, so much damage has been done to what we may have perceived as our democratic institutions that is is breathtaking to assess.

I’ll be talking with you in February about “Beloved Community”: how we can continue to persevere as a community within larger spheres of connection, and I welcome your input. I’m continuously astonished at the ways you’ve found to stay in touch with and support one another!

Meanwhile, I think a great deal about the eldest in our society. I was surprised to learn that more than one-third of COVID deaths have occurred in nursing homes and long-term care facilities. Along with the inequities and the racism that has been made manifest, a blatant disregard for our elders is now apparent.

I have always loved old people. Now that I’m becoming an old person, I understand that we may be diminished physically but that we are fully ourselves as long as we live. Even those who struggle with dementia are no less fully human.

Today we learned of the death of Sir Thomas Moore, the British man who at age 100 raised 45 million dollars for the Health service. He succumbed to the coronavirus, but he proved that you can make a difference in some way even at 100. It’s a feel-good story, but it matters. We don’t need to raise millions of dollars; just making a difference in one person’s life is worth celebrating.

I had the opportunity to meet a woman who was still living alone, riding her bicycle daily, and playing piano at age 101 when I served the UU Congregation of the South Jersey Shore. She also died this past week at age 105.

Helene Young was the sister of Peace Pilgrim, a woman who dedicated her life to walking across the country and advocating for peace. CLICK HERE to read more about her. Her sister died in 1981, but Helene worked to preserve her legacy for another forty years. Spending an afternoon with her was a precious opportunity, and made a difference in how I think of “old” age.

Helene attended our UU services from time to time, saying that if she did join a church it would be the UU Church, but she wasn’t one for organized religion.

One thing Michele and Caitriona remind us of in our Buddhist meditation is the presence of the ancestors. They are a part of us, in spirit as well as genetically. We call upon the ancestors for strength.

Today, we have living treasures among us, people who still remember WW2, people who lived long before cell phones, computers, and even television. Can you make contact with an elder, either in our church community or elsewhere, and listen to their stories? It usually takes just a question or two to get started. Let me know if you do!

Remembering,

Cynthia

Visiting Helene at home with Colby Tippins, a member of the UU Congregation of the South Jersey Shore, in 2016

I have been doing the same thing most of you have been doing this morning.

Watching… and sobbing. I know this Inauguration and change of power in our government does not alter many of the things that we as liberals still must stand against. Racism, capitalist greed, voter suppression, climate change, on & on.

But today feels like a breather.

Today we can celebrate the fact that humanity, decency, and integrity still exist.

I know liberals, and I know how cynical we can be. But just for this time, let’s allow the words of the beautiful, talented Amanda Gorman, a 22-year-old poet who like Biden (and me) overcame a speech impediment, as she both faces the harsh reality of what happened just 2 weeks ago and offers a glimmer of hope. CLICK HERE to listen again, or if you missed her amazing poem.

When I returned to ministry from semi-retirement, it was in no small part due to a feeling that there must be something I could do to give people hope, to provide a container for people to get through what was a more and more harrowing series of national events.

But whatever I thought I was doing, what happened was that you saved me. You helped me with your kindness, your warm welcome, your understanding and patience with me, even as we’ve faced this oxymoron called “virtual ministry.” You renewed my faith not just in human nature, but in liberal religion and in Unitarian Universalism.

I thank you, and I love you all.

Cynthia

My elder granddog (Gia, age 13) visiting the farm. One thing we can all agree on: puppies are cute.

Dear, dear people:

I, like you (I assume), have been inundated with a barrage of images, sounds, facts, lies, opinions, and prognostication about the Insurrection of January 6th. Perhaps like me, you weren’t surprised. Maybe you were shocked only that there was so little preparation, so little defense. As your Minister, I don’t need to tell you how to feel or, for that matter, to repeat or curate what you’ve already read or considered.

Here’s what I would love to suggest:

This event should have horrified all of us. But those of us who experienced childhood trauma may be particularly affected by the news of this past week. Why? Many reasons. Childhood trauma, even when dealt with, creates deep wounds in us that must be acknowledged. In much the same way that certain sounds and signals re-traumatize vets with PTSD, violence of the past week took many of us to a place where we’d been betrayed, bullied, violated, abused, and attacked with words and actions.

For me, those insurrectionists (I feel like that word gives them too much credit, since they were more of an angry mob) triggered every memory of white, entitled men (and these are NOT ALL MEN, in fact they’re a minority) who’ve intimidated, demeaned, and objectified me. Behind the subtle “humor” and good-natured “kidding” lies a rage that can be unleashed at any moment. Women, people of color, marginalized people, and many men know this.

Furthermore, some of us were not just the bullied but were also the bullies. We like to think we are nothing like those people. But if we are honest we all have a rageful, vengeful, maybe even a violent self somewhere in us. I know I do. It’s not the place I order my life from, but it can come out if I think I’m defending something or someone I deeply believe in.

So. We may regress in some ways that surprise us. Eating too much or unhealthfully. Slipping away from routines that we rely upon to stay healthy and steady. Watching too much TV or spending all day on the phone “doom-scrolling,” as one pundit called it. I found myself retreating into a documentary about Scientology on Netflix.

A colleague mentioned on social media that a HS classmate had contacted her on LinkedIn. She was aghast that he clearly disremembered having taunted her for being Jewish and had even put a swastika on her locker. She wondered what to do. Some replies suggested she ignore him, others that she confront him.

I didn’t have a suggestion about what to do, but applauded her for being vulnerable and reaching out to us. Colleagues she knew well, and others, like me, she knew mostly online. Her post gave me the incentive to think about my own responses, and also to think about ways I might have been complicit in bullying long ago. No, I didn’t paint swastikas or anything like that, but bullying takes many forms.

Reach out. Try to take care of yourself, but don’t pile judgment on top of shame by scolding yourself if you don’t. Avoid people who make you feel worse. Join your church family, even if you don’t feel like it. Someone else may be encouraged by seeing you there. I love you!

Cynthia

Our new grandpuppy, Haze! Her older sister Gia is completely traumatized.

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!