Church with Children

I am thinking today about the children at Allen Avenue. It has been good to visit the Religious Education groups during the 9 a.m. worship services while worship associates lead the congregation for joys and concerns, offering, and readings. Each visit has felt very short, maybe five or ten minutes at most. Sometimes we don't even finish the children's joys and sorrows time. But a couple of small incidents during the last few weeks make me realize that the visits have more impact than it might seem. 

The week after a visit to one class of young ones, the child I had sat next to in the circle approached me to ask if he might light the chalice during worship.  And after a visit to another group, a child saw me after the service and came up and gave me a hug.  I am delighted at the way these simple visits draw me closer to our children.

And speaking of lighting the chalice--perhaps parents might like to know that I welcome requests from children to light the chalice. My usual routine is to ask a child who is in the sanctuary a little before worship begins.  If your child would like to play that role, just come to church five to ten minutes early and ask.  I try to give a turn to those who haven't done it a lot, but it doesn't always turn out that way.

It has been great to have new babies in our church community.  Just so you know, UUs have a lovely ceremony called a Child Dedication that I am happy to arrange for infants of our members.  We usually do it during the time of the lesson for all ages.  We call the child by name, and bless them with water, the source of all life.  We dedicate ourselves as parents and as a church community to help them grow into their fullness. Occasionally we also do a group dedication including older children who are new to our church. If you would like to know more about it, just send me an email at revmyke@a2u2.org. 

As we enter the season perhaps most devoted to children, may all know joy, peace, and wonder.

Affectionately, 

Rev. Myke

Bringing People Together

The moon is shining bright outside as I write this tonight. I am thinking about the Red Sox, and the night they won the World Series in 2004, right during an eclipse of the moon, reversing the curse of not winning since 1918. They are playing the series again, and though I don't watch baseball very often, I can feel the energy in the air. Collective hope, fear, passion, elation? It's funny how sports have become the venues that bring the most people together into one focus.

In our own way, our church also brings people together—at least some of the time, some of the people. Competing with shopping, television, school activities, sports, concerts—so many options exist today for how we spend our time. Why do we choose church? What are we looking for here that we can't find anywhere else? Perhaps it is something about connecting with each other deeply, and connecting with our own deepest selves—a chance for intimacy of spirit, and a chance to give attention to what matters most. We show up, we hope for a little light to shine in our hearts. We hope for a circle of light, like the full moon on a clear night.

It isn't easy or automatic. We need to help each other find the way. When we help each other, we call that our shared ministry. It happens when we listen, really listen to each other. It happens when we smile, when we invite each other to talk, to lunch, to sing. It happens when we take a risk to share from our hearts. It happens in our spiritual enrichment groups, the mens group, the elderism salon, RE groups, visits with elders. It happens in worship, and in coffee hour sometime. Do you come to church hungry for this?

What we need are people who are catalysts of ministry—who are willing to ask the next questions, listen to “how are you really?” We need people who step out of their comfort zone to talk to someone they don't know, invite them to connect. We need people who spread kindness. We have a lot of those people by the way. I am humbled by the depth of caring and light that shines in our midst. And we always need one more person to be one of those lights. There are a lot of needs. Right now I am thinking of some people who would love visitors because they can't get out much anymore. I am thinking of newcomers who can feel the energy of love in our church, but don't know how to access it yet. If you have some room in your heart for something like that, please let me know. Ask me about our Pastoral Visitors, or our Member Connections group.

Church is an ever evolving process, and it is hard sometimes and messy sometimes. Be the light! Sometimes there are little celebrations too. Did you know that in 2001, we purchased the woods that lies over the little bridge near the sanctuary? It was about to be developed, and some very smart people in our church, led by then president Jack Berman, convinced the developers to change their plans and sell us 2 and a half acres. This month we paid off the mortgage for that land. Take a walk over there if you can, to the lovely rock formations. We wouldn't have that woods if people in our church hadn't given their time and energy to bring this light to our community. That's how it works. Jack has Alzheimer's now, but he remembers getting that land, and I think it would be great if as many of us as possible thanked him during this month. We'll have a celebration on November 17th as well, at worship. Moments of light and joy.

Thanks to the light you bring! Rev. Myke

The Circle of Community

Autumn is upon us, and for some reason in our culture, it seems to speed up the pace of life about double from the slower days of summer. School begins again, our full church program begins again, and what else? Do your work programs move into high gear, as well? Sports for children? Our society pushes us into more and more activities, purchases, information, controversy—even next's years electoral races are beginning now.

For me, it is a good time to remember the importance of spiritual practice—those moments when we slow down to appreciate our lives, offer thanks, focus on what is most important to us, notice what gives us joy and what needs our attention, recommit to what honors the best of our hearts. I remember a story about a Zen master who meditated for an hour every day. “Except when I am really busy,” he said. “Then I meditate for two hours every day.” We need those times to keep our balance.

It is also a time to remember the importance of community—that intangible creation of the many small acts of attention and kindness given by individuals and families who have chosen to be there for each other. When we get too busy we may start to think of church as an item on our to-do list—but it is not a project to be completed. Rather, it is that place of reversals, where what is most important is letting go of to-do lists, to give the gift of presence to each other. Thich Nhat Hanh said,

“The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”

A while ago I wrote a sermon about community, called “Dreaming In Circles.” An excerpt of it has been published in the September issue of Quest, which is the monthly publication of the UU Church of the Larger Fellowship, a congregation without walls for UU's who are not in geographical church communities. It can be read at http://www.questformeaning.org/page/reflecting/dreaming-in-circles or you can listen at http://uucyf.org/clfuunet/podcasts/13_09/Dreaming.mp3. I was happy to be able to share it with a wider circle.

I end it by saying, “When we choose community, when we practice loving a particular group of people, we are letting the reality of the universe enter our hearts—we are learning how to experience the reality that we truly are all part of one another. Of course we don’t always get it right. Otherwise we wouldn’t need to practice. We are not here to try to fix everything in order to create some sort of perfect circle—we are the circle right now, trying to wake up together. Every person is sacred, and we are all one circle.”

It gives me great joy to be part of the circle of Allen Avenue.

With love, Rev. Myke

September Starts a New Year

I am looking forward to seeing all of you on September 8th as we begin a new church year together. I am excited about what is emerging for this church year ahead of us. First of all, our environmental focus has gotten off to a great start. There has been much enthusiasm during the summer beginnings of our collaboration with Permaculture activists in Portland. You may have heard me say this before, but I think of Permaculture folks as the happy environmentalists—not just looking at problems, but learning from the earth to design solutions. In that spirit, I plan to offer a sermon series, “Lessons from the Earth,” which I have introduced in the worship description for Sept 15th. These will be part of the spiritual side of our commitment to focus as a congregation on the environment during the next few years. I hope you will find your own way to be a part of this adventure.

I am also excited about our new Director of Religious Education. If you haven't been reading the Eblast over the summer, let me introduce her briefly. Laura Messenger is a young adult who grew up UU, and has been active in the UU Church in Concord, NH. She has been a third grade teacher, and also has experience coordinating education in a refugee camp in Africa. She is finishing a Masters Degree is Educating for Sustainability—which fits so well with our congregation's theme for the next years. She has a three year old daughter, Bella. The Search Committee chose her because of her depth, her friendliness, and the conviction that she has the right experience to become a really good DRE—Laura wanted to be involved in religious education so she could bring her UU values into her passion for education. We will be helping her learn to apply her skills to this new career, and she will be helping us to create a vibrant and fun program for our kids. Please come to our welcome reception for Laura on September 8th after each service, in Room 7-9 in the RE wing.

Another new things for the coming year will be our Triennial (every third year) Review of the Ministry. The Committee on Ministry will lead us in a whole church reflection on how we are doing as a church, in our programming, in our ministries, in our staff, in our committees, etc. They are still designing just how we will do that—for example, perhaps a survey will be part of it, perhaps a worship service? I hope everyone will participate in giving the feedback that helps us grow, and helps us really become what we hope to be as a church—or maybe even further clarify what we hope to be as a church. Experts suggest that the church of the past will not survive in these times--we will be learning from each other to find creative solutions for the future.

As I write today, I am thinking about our lives, what we carry of joy and sorrow, the deaths among us, the illnesses we have faced, the challenges in work and family, some of which I know about, and some certainly that I do not. I am thinking about what we carry of joy and sorrow as a nation and as a world, too often broken by war and violence and greed. I look forward to being all together again, so that we can better help each other to carry our joys and sorrows. I am thankful for the Pastoral Care Team, and the Caring Connection, and our summer worship leaders, and all our members who have been caring for each other's joys and sorrows during the summer. You give me a chance to replenish my own spirit and my connections with family and friends. One highlight this summer was a family reunion—all my siblings (nine of us) were together for the first time in 13 years, with our partners, spouses, children, parents, grandchildren—a blessing to be sure. 

With love,  Rev. Myke

Summertime

June has been a sad month with Memorial Services for two of our beloved long-time members. We have grieved the loss of Dave Johnson and Marcia Payson. The longer I stay at A2U2, the more I love the people here, and the harder the deaths feel to me. And yet, these memorials have been celebrations too, celebrations of two lives beautifully lived, and also celebrations of the love and depth of this community that gathers close for support and care when we face a loss together. I offer special thanks to the Caring Connection who coordinated the receptions, and many thanks for all who stepped up to bring food and help in many ways. You make our mission of transforming love come alive.

I wanted to thank Mark Gallup for his enthusiastic participation in our community as a Chaplaincy Intern during this past year. He graduated from the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine on June 2nd. Congratulations, Mark! Happily, he has decided to stay at A2U2, not as our intern, but as an active participant in our Environmental focus, along with other volunteer activities. Hurray!

We are entering now a transition from our regular church year to our quieter summer season. If you are new, I want to say that now is a chance to experience our lay-led services in the round, which offer the inspiration of thoughtful creative people, and the intimacy of a smaller group. It is a great chance to get to know people better, and to engage your heart and mind and spirit.

But this summer feels a little less quiet than usual. First of all, the Environmental Steering Group is planning to jump into our Permaculture adventure, with several offerings to introduce us to the principles and practices of permaculture—movies, workshops, site visits, etc. They are in the midst of planning now, and so watch for details soon. I understand that over 50 people have signed up to get notices of events. You can too, by emailing haroldmcwilliams@gmail.com to ask to be on the list, or just watch the eblast.

Another group that is busy is our DRE Search Committee. Chaired by the always capable Sonia Tonelli, it includes people representing various aspects of connection to Religious Education. Sonia is a member of the RE committee, an RE leader and also member of our Personnel Committee. Members include RE parents and leaders, Susan Lindahl Malcolm, Sally Moon, & Scott Pollard; board representative & former DRE Sally Kakitis, our emeritus DRE Tirrell Kimball, and myself. We have met a few times already to sort out the hiring process, advertise the position, and develop interview questions, and we are beginning to conduct interviews, which will continue into July. The Committee is hoping to hire someone to begin in August, and you can be sure they will let you know when we have news.

So perhaps our quiet summer season at A2U2 is not so quiet after all this year. But I am hoping to take some time for rest and refreshment in between times of study and preparation for next year. Margy and I are planning our beach adventures, a visit to Cape Cod, and a Johnson family reunion for my mom's 80th birthday; we're looking forward to seeing all of my 8 brothers and sisters and their families. I wish you a beautiful summer! And if you have some not so beautiful challenges, remember to call our Pastoral Care Team (797-7240 ext. 13 or care@a2u2.org). They are ready to offer a listening ear, and to contact me in the case of any emergencies.

Rev. Myke

Facing What Is Larger Than We Are

We are always surrounded by what is larger than we are. Sometimes it is beauty: the unfolding of the plant world in spring, the generosity of strangers, the soft feeling of petting a cat, all these natural phenomena that we can barely begin to explain. Sometimes it is tragedy: the illness of those we love, violence that makes no sense, the destruction of the natural world, hatred between peoples. How do we live with so much that is beyond our control?

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:

Even as the farmer labors

there where the seed turns into summer,

it is not his work.  It is Earth who gives.

Our attitude toward the larger beauty and tragedy is strengthened when we first acknowledge our limits—amazingly we sometimes think we are in charge of something! No—we are not in charge. But we also have much more power than we know. We can influence our surroundings by how we live within our larger reality. One of the most important questions to ask ourselves is “Am I acting now from fear, or from love?”

Margaret Marcuson writes: “It takes a lot of energy to be afraid. I find that usually when I'm afraid, I'm living in an imaginary future. My mind has traveled down a path to a situation which does not actually exist. I'm only afraid it might exist, and I can imagine it so fully that adrenaline floods my body. Living in the non-existent future, especially when it's negative, saps my energy and limits my resourcefulness in the present.”  (See her website for other great tips for congregational leaders http://margaretmarcuson.com/)

She referred me to a book that identifies some strategies for moving from fear to love. It is called 8 Habits of Love, by Ed Bacon, an Episcopal minister in California. When we act from love, the ripples affect all those around us. Here is a summary I adapted from Margaret:

When we are generous, others are more inclined to be so.

When we make time for stillness, those around us can calm down.

When we know our own truth, we can challenge others to think for themselves.

When we are candid, communication by all becomes cleaner.

When we play, we and others will be more creative.

When we forgive, we can release energy for our work in the world.

When we are compassionate, the energy we would use to judge others is available for more creative giving.

When we understand community, we can both set boundaries and give support.

So whether we are facing beauty or tragedy from that larger world, let us cultivate these habits of love. That is something we have the power to do, and something that ultimately is healing for our world.  

Thoughts after the Marathon Bombings

The day after the bombings at the Boston marathon, I went to my yoga class. Our teacher invited us to hold the people of Boston in the peacefulness of our breathing. I thought about the vulnerability of breath—how quickly it can be extinguished, and how quickly life can be no more. We so often take it for granted, but in that moment, I did not. When we breathe we are a part of a great rhythm and flow of life. The air invisibly connects us all. Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh has said, “We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness.”

This week I have been thinking about a poem he wrote many years ago, “Call Me By My True Names.” He wrote it after hearing a tragic and horrible story of a young girl, one of the boat people trying to escape from Vietnam. She had been raped by a sea pirate, and jumped in the ocean and drowned. He felt very angry at the pirate. But looking more deeply, he realized that if he had been born in the village of the pirate, and raised in the same way, he too might have become a pirate. He tells us we are all responsible for the circumstances that create the pirate.

I have been thinking about the bombings in Boston, and about two boys. First of all, my heart broke when I saw the picture of the eight year old who was killed, Martin Richard. I think all of our hearts broke. In the picture, he was smiling and holding a poster—“No More Hurting People—Peace.” How do we take in the horrible tragedy of his young life cut short?

A couple days later, other pictures appeared, of two young men who were suspects in the bombing. We learned that they were brothers, originally from Chechnya and Dagestan, but living in Massachusetts for the past decade. People who knew the younger brother talked about their surprise that Dzhokhar could have done such a thing: he was only nineteen, a normal kid, friendly, a good student, he had been involved in sports at Cambridge Rindge and Latin. As the cities around Boston were locked down in the search to find him, I felt a sense of bewildered compassion for this teenager, now alone, wounded, who for some inexplicable reason had thrown his life away into violence. As President Obama asked on Friday, “Why did young men who grew up and studied here as part of our communities and country resort to such violence?”

We don't know the answer to that question. So many young men in our country have exploded into senseless killing. Columbine, Sandy Hook, Virginia Tech. But I also thought about Chechnya and Dagestan and the violence and war of that region in which they spent their early childhood. The people there tried to form an independent state after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, but were violently repressed by the Russian government.

Of course, I felt relief and gratitude when Dzhokhar Tsarnaev was captured. People could rest easy now. It is natural to feel compassion for the victims of violence. But I don't think we can end terrorism without beginning the difficult process of opening to compassion for its perpetrators as well. Violence is a cycle that we are all caught inside. We must move beyond dividing the world into us and them. We must move beyond the practices of empire, where nations force other peoples to do their bidding through the use of war and weapons. The only real way to fight terrorism is to recognize our common humanity.

Thich Nhat Hahn wrote his poem Call Me By My True Names, after a long meditation on the unity of all beings. He says, “In the poem there are three people: the twelve year old girl, the pirate, and me. Can we look at one another and recognize ourselves in each other.” In my heart today there are three people: eight year old Martin, nineteen year old Dzhokhar and me. Can we recognize ourselves in each other?

Call Me By My True Names

A New Idea for Connecting with Our Kids

 You never know when a new idea will emerge. I was talking to a retired colleague about how hard it is to find a way to connect with our children in religious education, because I am leading worship while they are down the hall in their groups. She made a suggestion that sounded a bit crazy, but just maybe might work—and when I talked about it with our Director of Religious Education and some members of the Religious Education committee, they liked the idea too. So we are going to try it out in April.

Here is how it will work. On the 7^th and the 21^st, after the Lesson for all Ages at the 9 a.m. service, I will go out with the children, and go to one of the RE groups. I will stay with them for about ten minutes, during their time for joys and concerns in their group. Meanwhile, back in the sanctuary, one of our Worship Associates will lead the time for Joys and Concerns and the Offering, as well as share the reading for the day. I will come back to the sanctuary for the anthem and be ready to preach the sermon. I have emailed our Worship Associates and gotten several volunteers and a lot of enthusiasm. I hope it will work.

The plus side is that I will be able to hear what is going on for our young ones. The minus side is that I might feel a bit scattered going out and coming back in to worship. (Someone suggested roller skates.) So we'll give it a try in April, and if it works, I will try to visit the other groups in May and June. Stay tuned...

Joy and Sorrow

“Joy and sorrow woven fine”...so said the poet Blake. I have been thinking about joy and sorrow this month. I think with joy about the new infants who have joined our community recently. It is such a delight to hear their sweet voices during the service. It is a joy to see the young ones getting older and learning to talk and walk and turning into amazing little people.

I also think about so many in our congregation who are dealing with serious illness, or caring for a loved one who is facing such trouble. I think about those who have lost family members to death. None of it is easy. I wish I could wrap a blanket of kindness around each person who is hurting. And maybe that is what church is all about—not that any of us can do it individually, but that all together, we can offer kindness and caring to those who hurt.

I just want to mention that so many of you hesitate to ask for help for yourselves! We are a congregation of giving people, but remember, receiving is also a blessing—please reach out if you need a listening ear, or a little help. I am always happy to get your call, or find a time to meet over tea. And our Pastoral Care Team and Caring Connection feel the same way too. 

And to take my own advice, I want to let you know that my partner Margy has been diagnosed with granulosa cell tumor, a rare kind of ovarian cancer. It generally has a good prognosis, though one never knows for sure. She will be having surgery on March 12^th, and be in the hospital for a few days. I will be taking a few days off to be with her and take care of her when she comes home. And likely, we'll be calling the Caring Connection for help with a few meals when she comes home. I am feeling joyful that the prognosis is good, but sad that she has to go through the ordeal of surgery. I love her very much.

Life is full of joy and sorrow, and we all deal with it. I am reminded of Louise Erdrich's words, in her novel The Painted Drum:

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could.

Bafflement

What a precious thing we all hold in our hands—this community in which we can share the deep questions of our lives. We share the perennial questions that people have wondered about for generations—What is the meaning of life? What is the meaning of death? How can we live with integrity? And we share the timely questions of our own day—What is a humane solution for immigrant families without documentation? How can we adapt to a changing economy so everyone is able to participate? How can we survive climate change?

So often, in the midst of this pondering, the predominant feeling in my heart is bafflement. So many questions do not have easy answers. I am glad we don't push easy answers on the questions. I am so thankful for this community in which we can ponder together, to face these questions with kindness, with compassion, with creativity, with joy at life's mystery and beauty, and sorrow at its grief and suffering. It is good to ponder together and to be baffled together and then perhaps smile a little and have fun.

I am so thankful for all of you who care enough about this community to give of your love and time, your extraordinary talents and hard earned money, even your crankiness and impatience! The world is changing and it is good to be able to sort it out together.

Experts say that churches as we have known them are dying—that they might not exist by the end of the century. I am not sure if that is a good or a bad thing. But it reminds me that we can never take our community for granted. Allen Avenue UU Church has a lot of life in it. We hold a new kind of religion in an old form. Our vision of an inclusive gathering of spiritual searchers without dogma is a new kind of idea. But the form our church takes is the form of the old Protestant church with Sunday services and children's religious education and a building in which we gather and lots of volunteer time. Maybe the forms will have to change. It give us more questions to ponder, and bafflement to feel.

But I hope this spark of light and love will endure, this beacon of hope and kindness will keep shining brightly, in whatever forms we inherit or create together! I hope we can be open to the creativity and dedication that are needed in a time of change.