Sermon given by Rev. Frank Clarkson, February 23, 2025.

I can’t tell you how good it is to be back here in this sanctuary, under this roof together, after being online the past two weeks because of snow. This, right here, is one of the things I am going to miss most when I retire—an ordinary Sunday in this place, with you good people. Including those of you on Zoom; all of us gathered together.

If you pause and look for it, there are rituals to Sunday morning, and to all of church life. And there are rituals to daily life too; things you may take for granted, like morning coffee or tea, practices like prayer or meditation or filling the bird feeder, like kissing your spouse or children goodbye, like saying “I love you.” Aren’t these practices as holy as any ritual in any church faith community?

In this month when our worship theme is “Interdependence,” I want to lift up the ways we need one another and help one another, within and outside these walls. How we are in relationship with with each other, and with other congregations too—we need them and they need us.

I hope you see experience this place as a community that can help you develop healthy and life-affirming ways of being in relationship with others. Of giving and taking, teaching and learning and trusting, and when needed, apologizing and forgiving. Isn’t this what a community of faith is supposed to be? Where you can get beneath the surface and be real with one another.

Some years ago one of you said something that touched me deeply. This person, who was going through a tough time, said to me, “I’m leaning on you right now.” I responded with something like, “That’s why I’m here.” I love that this person named their dependence out loud, and made no apology for it. I hope they know it’s not been a one way street. That I have depended on them too. 

Most every day now I find myself thinking about these almost 17 years I’ve been your minister, and feeling so grateful for what we’ve shared. I’m reminded of an observation the UU minister Rev. Jack Mendelsohn made years ago. He wrote, “The future of the liberal church is almost totally dependent on these two factors: great congregations (whether large or small) and effective, dedicated ministers. The strangest feature of their relationship is that they create one another.”

Talk about interdependence. We create one another. Of course this is true not just for ministers but for church staff and leaders of every kind. We create one another. We learn from and inspire one another. We need one another. And I hope that the good we’ve done together will give you confidence that there are other ministers out the looking and hoping for a congregation like this one; looking to be part of this kind of creating one another.

This is a place where it should be obvious that none of us can see the whole picture or get something worthwhile done all by ourselves. This is wonderful, and can be frustrating too, especially for those of us who don’t love group projects, who would just as soon do it all by ourselves. Because other people can be so…. what? So human, so imperfect, so wonderfully challenging, with their different opinions and ways of doing things! 

And, of course, we need one another. We need the different perspectives and abilities and talents others have to offer. We heard this in our reading from the former minister here, Rev. Janet Bowering, that began

“A church is people. It is not a body of belief, a set of principles, or an impressive structure of stone, wood, and glass…” And then she gets to the on-the-ground reality of congregational life:

“In a church there are those who are practical about institutional needs as well as the needs of the human family. There are people who understand our interdependent web of existence, those who can share the poetry they find in the stars, and those who can circulate a petition to save the wetlands…”

The point is, we need one another. Even those whose way of being is different enough that they can annoy you sometimes! We need one another to see with a wider perspective, and to accomplish what we can never do all alone.

Now let’s think about interdependence outside our walls. One of the things I’m grateful for these days is how we are helping people at our warming center, and at the same time we’re helping people who are looking for ways to be generous. This week there’s been a steady stream of people stopping by the church to drop off sleeping pads and food for our warming center guests. As they give, they express their gratitude for what we’re doing; they thank us for holding open this space. And they are grateful to be able to give. 

You’ll hear more of this in the coming weeks, as our stewardship campaign gets underway, and I hope you’ll approach that conversation with this same kind of openhearted generosity: understanding that the church is not just another worthy organization asking you for money, but rather, its your beloved community offering you the opportunity to be generous, inviting you into the privilege of giving to this congregation you belong to and believe in.

You know this church has a history of serving and feeding and welcoming people in, especially in times of need. Perhaps one of the new ways this congregation can serve the community outside its doors is by becoming a hub for service and for activism and for spiritual growth. There are people out there who are hungry for what we have to offer. Can we get better at inviting them in, and welcoming them in, and being ready and hospitable when they come?

It’s part of our history, going all the way back to the earliest churches in New England, that congregations in our tradition are self-governing, but also in committed relationship with one another. We belong to each other, and are meant to help and encourage one another. This happens in all kinds of ways.

One way we saw this interdependence between congregations was in the two brilliant intern ministers we’ve had here in recent years, Sophia Lyons and Tori Rosati. They each came to us from the churches that had encouraged them into ministry, and these two ministers are now serving congregations in Watertown, Mass. and in Kennebunk, Maine. By helping train and form them as ministers, you in this congregation have given a real gift to these other churches. And as this church looks for an interim minister and later, a new settled minister, you will benefit from the congregations which have nurtured and formed those ministers, to say nothing of the denominational structures and staffers who will be invaluable to you in the search process. 

Isn’t it obvious that this way of interdependence is a good and right and sacred way of living? It’s clear, isn’t it, that going it alone or thinking you have all the answers will only put you on the lonely road to ruin. There’s a poem that’s been on my mind lately, William Stafford’s “A Ritual to Read to Each Other.” It inspired my sermon title, and it’s a good poem for these days. It begin

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

We need to know one another, our gifts and our limitations; the importance of engaging in these rituals of belonging to one another. The poem ends with these lines:

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

Dear spiritual companions, in these days, let us be awake to the gift of our connectedness and our need for one another. Let us endeavor to see what we do with one another as rituals—as holy opportunities to make the spaces between us, and our corner of the world, more just, more loving, more caring. Let us see what we do here—showing up, singing, welcoming, caring, leading, organizing, everything—is a ritual we offer to one another? A ritual we offer to one another.

Thanks be to the Spirit that makes is all so,

Amen.