Scarcity, Abundance, and the Songs We Sing to Our Kids

Scarcity, Abundance, and the Songs We Sing to Our Kids

Early in the afternoon this past New Years Eve, I was standing at our gate at DCA National Airport, feeling sorry for myself. Couldn’t just one thing go as planned this whole freaking year? My three-year-old was asleep in what looked like a massive pile of lovies, sippee cups, and exhaustion, recovering from a night of frequent vomiting in a small Air BNB. My one year-old was strapped to my chest in a baby carrier, resisting the balance I was trying to strike between bouncing him enough to get him to sleep, but not so much that he threw up yet again. As I rocked and paced and made white noise sounds with my mouth, I noticed that his eyes were still wide open. While I was desperate with my scarcity thinking, all he seemed to be seeing was abundance.

Finding Hope

Finding Hope

I can remember my first day as a chaplain at the hospital. Myself and my fellow chaplain interns sat around in a circle with our educator and stared at the whiteboard. Our educator, Fr. Ed Frost, wrote two lists of the various nursing units throughout the hospital. He asked us, “Where do you want to serve?” The options made me go blank: emergency, ICU, behavioral health, oncology, medical/surgical and maternity were our various options. When the cards fell, I signed up for both maternity/neonatal as well as one of the behavioral health units. WIth the units chosen, Fr. Ed looked at us and said, “Alright, you have your assignments, off you go!”

Soul Force

Soul Force

This month we’re learning about and reflecting on beloved community, as articulated by Martin Luther King, Jr., and embodied in the civil rights movement. Beloved community is not a place, it’s a process, that’s always asking for our attention and participation. It’s like heaven here on earth, which we do catch glimpses of from time to time, but it’s never a place where we get to say, “We’ve arrived, we’re done.” Beloved community asks us to practice expanding our hearts and minds, so we come to new and deeper understandings; it asks us to keep on moving forward. As we try to live more and more into this way of being, called beloved community, the spiritual we just sang could be a good prayer or mantra to have with us on our way:

Guide my feet, while I run this race,
hold my hand, stand by me, search my heart, 
For I don’t want to run this race in vain.

The Work of Christmas

The Work of Christmas

The other day, Maggie and Di were here, taking down the Christmas decorations, which were so lovely. They decided to leave a few of them up, so the change wouldn’t be too abrupt, and that made me glad. I love Christmas—the story, the celebration and the carols, and I also love the quieter days that follow. And this simpler beauty we have before us now seems to me a lovely symbol of the invitation of these January days. Which is this: how do we intend to carry the spirit of Christmas, and the other holy days of December, into this new year? How will we bring the spirit of light shining in the darkness, of hope and courage in a time of fear, of Love breaking into our world, into the days ahead? How are we going to help keep alive this Spirit, not just at Christmas, but all the year ‘round?

Born in Us Today

Born in Us Today

I’m so glad to be here this night; so grateful that we are here together. After the last couple of years, I don’t take it for granted. That we can gather to hear the story, and sing together, and light our candles. It’s good for us, this ritual of opening up to the wonder and mystery of this night, and this season.

There are those who aren’t with us tonight; we have loved ones and friends who are sick right now, and others separated by distance, and by weather. And especially on this night, we remember those we have loved and lost. If there are those you are missing right now, will you invite them into your heart, and trust that they are with you in spirit? That you can feel their presence, and their love.

Humbled by Mystery

Humbled by Mystery

Sometimes people come into this sanctuary, and look at these stained glass windows, and ask, “What kind of church was this before it became UU?” And I delight in telling them, “This church was built by the Universalists in Haverhill back in 1894.” Our forebears back then built a church that reflected their theology and spirituality, with windows over there that tell the parables of the lost sheep and the prodigal son, stories about God’s abiding love. And this image of Jesus reminds me of his words, “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). I hope coming into this sanctuary, and into this hour of worship, refreshes you and gives you rest.

Preparing the Way

Preparing the Way

Tim and I recently got away for a few days with some friends up in the White Mountains. Our cabin sat at the base of s few of those formidable peaks, which we could see out our kitchen window. While there, and in the spirit of the landscape we were in, we all watched the rock-climbing documentary one of the nights called “The Dawn Wall.” The movie told the story of famed rock climbers, Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgenson and their pursuit of summitting the Dawn Wall, a never before climbed face of El Capitan, the iconic vertical rock formation in Yosemite National Park.

On the Threshold

On the Threshold

This day feels like a threshold to me, a transition from one season to another. It’s the end of Thanksgiving weekend, and the first Sunday in Advent, and so I find myself feeling a bit betwixt and between. Do you know what I mean?

Apparently the Christmas shopping season officially started on Friday, so there’s that. December is a month that many of us experience as a particularly busy time, with extra pressures and more things to do. At the same time, the season of Advent, these four weeks that lead up to Christmas, are meant to be quiet and spacious, a time of waiting and emptying even, making room in our hearts, so we’re ready for Christmas, when it does come.

WELCOMing. Caring. Faith. Community.

Universalist Unitarian Church of Haverhill
15 Kenoza Avenue, Haverhill, MA • 978-372-5173 • office@uuhaverhill.org
Mailing & office address: 16 Ashland Street, Haverhill, MA 01830