December musings

We're coming into winter soon now... cold mornings, early dark evenings, but the unreal politics goes on and on. I will be preaching on hope this month. And bringing back one of my old favorites for the holiday of Hanukkah. And in case you're wondering, on Christmas Eve we'll have three services—one Sunday morning service at 10, and two evening services at 6:30 and 8:30.

I seemed to be devouring books this past month as I wrestled personally with the potentially devastating consequences of climate change—you can see which books if you look at the sermon transcripts for the month on our website at a2u2.org. (And by the way, say thanks to Diane Oberbeck for our beautiful new website design! I understand that updating it is much easier—and Diane is looking for volunteers who would like to be a part of the website team—let her know if you can help.)

But back to books, after plunging into the depths of the climate change crisis, I found myself coming back to an earlier favorite book, The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know Is Possible, by Charles Eisenstein. I like it so much, in fact, that I would love to have a book discussion to talk about it. If you are interested let me know at revmyke@a2u2.org. If we have a critical mass, we can find a date after all the holidays. And by the way, you can get a digital copy for free online at https://charleseisenstein.net/books/the-more-beautiful-world-our-hearts-know-is-possible/. He reminds us that the paradigm shift we need—from a world of separation to a world of interbeing—means that the ways we have thought about social change might no longer apply. Maybe we need new methods to get to a new paradigm.

And speaking of books, if you are thinking about gifts for family and friends, consider whether they might like the book I published last year, Finding Our Way Home: A Spiritual Journey into Earth Community. You can order it at your local bookstore, find it on Amazon.com, buy it through my site at http://www.lulu.com/shop/myke-johnson/finding-our-way-home/paperback/product-22972214.html, or talk to me at church—I have copies in my office for $15. (If you like the book, please consider reviewing it on one of those sites too—it is only by word of mouth that people will hear about it.) I appreciate your sharing it with friends who care about the earth. I also want to say that I had such a wonderful time with the group who shared conversations and rituals based on the book in the course I led this fall, called “A Spiritual Journey into Earth Community.” Thank you to all of you for sharing your magical moments and deep feeling for our planet.

I look forward to seeing folks at the holiday fair on December 2nd, and bring a friend to church & RE on December 3rd. May we enter into the season of darkness and light with hearts turned toward celebration—community, family, friends, values, life.

Affectionately,

Rev. Myke

Hope in Our Times

During the “question box” service on October 8, the most predominant question written down and placed in the basket for me to answer was some version of: “With everything that is happening today, how can we hold on to hope?” I mentioned at that time some wise words of Rebecca Solnit about hope in the midst of darkness. So I went searching around to find more and wanted to share them with you here, along with some words from Howard Zinn. I will revisit and expand on some of these ideas in December, when our theme will be hope.

A writer and activist, Rebecca Solnit says: “To be hopeful means to be uncertain about the future, to be tender toward possibilities, to be dedicated to change all the way down to the bottom of your heart.” In her Field Guide to Getting Lost she writes: “Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark. That’s where the most important things come from...” “To me, the grounds for hope are simply that we don’t know what will happen next, and that the unlikely and the unimaginable transpire quite regularly.”

Professor and historian Howard Zinn writes: “To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness… If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places – and there are so many – where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction…The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

In her book Hope in the Dark, Solnit concurs, “...if you embody what you aspire to, you have already succeeded. That is to say, if your activism is already democratic, peaceful, creative, then in one small corner of the world these things have triumphed. Activism, in this model, is not only a toolbox to change things but a home in which to take up residence and live according to your beliefs, even if it’s a temporary and local place... Make yourself one small republic of unconquered spirit.”

Howard Zinn continues: “The struggle for justice should never be abandoned because of the apparent overwhelming power of those who have the guns and the money and who seem invincible in their determination to hold onto it. That apparent power has, again and again, proved vulnerable to moral fervor, determination, unity, organization, sacrifice, wit, ingenuity, courage, and patience.”

Rebecca Solnit explains, “Nobody can know the full consequences of their actions, and history is full of small acts that changed the world is surprising ways.” Like the antinuclear activist from Women Strike for Peace (WSP) who recounted feeling foolish and futile while standing in the rain one morning protesting at the Kennedy White House only to learn years later that Benjamin Spock, a high-profile activist in the anti-nuclear movement, was first inspired by “a small group of women protesting outside the Kennedy White House.”

Zinn writes: “There is a tendency to think that what we see in the present moment will continue. We forget how often we have been astonished by the sudden crumbling of institutions, by extraordinary changes in people’s thoughts, by unexpected eruptions of rebellion against tyrannies, by the quick collapse of systems of power that seemed invincible. What leaps out from the history of the past hundred years is its utter unpredictability.”

And finally, Abby Brockman says: “In my own life, I’ve noticed an anecdotal relationship between engagement and hope, and between disengagement and despair. I don’t know if it is causal or correlative but I have found that the people who have the most hope are also the ones most engaged (in fighting poverty, sickness, inequality, injustice both here in the US and abroad), and the the most cynical ones are the ones who are distant and disengaged.”

May these wise words be a small light in the darkness, Rev. Myke