Video Reading – “What did the Leviathan of Parsonstown Teach us?” | Hank Green in Hank’s Channel (shorts)

Sermon – The Leviathan of Parsonstown – Rev. Rod

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One of the ways to look at the Lenten and Easter season is as a kind of bookend – and parallel – to the Advent and Christmas season, as we revisit the stories and practices of anticipation and revelation, all the while exploring themes of divinity in unexpected places that are far, near, and within us, as well as of resurrection and rebirth.

In the Christmas story, which we hear or retell in the darkest and coldest days of the year, we come across a set of mysterious characters – the original text calls them magi – we often call them the “wise men from the east”.  But the people who study these kinds of stories aren’t always sure who these people were, what it was they did, or even how many of them there were.  Where they kings? priests? sages? magicians? fortune-tellers?  The sources aren’t very clear.

One thing that is rather clear, is that they looked at stars.  I often call them stargazers in my dynamic translation of the text that talks about them.  And in the story, this stargazing gives them surprising insight.

They weren’t the only ones.  People in ancient times looked up at the heavens – a lot.  Partly, this might have been because there wasn’t much else that they could do at night.  I imagine that it also offered them a sense of awe to look at the uncountable stars and other heavenly bodies, and the mysteries they held, or the stories they sometimes offered.  Also, looking at the sky in day and night, they found that… the sky spoke to them.  It offered clues about the weather and how the earth would treat them at a particular time – it told them when to plant, grow, and harvest food; where to be, and which places to avoid at certain times.

Many societies figured out that, by looking at the heavens in evermore systematic ways they could get very precise information – even if there always seemed to be more questions.  The Maya civilization figured out how long the year was, down to fractions of a day.  People in ancient Egypt, Greece, and India figured out that the Earth was round much earlier than the public imagination gives them credit for, and they came up with pretty good guesses as to how big it is.  All by looking at the sky and its relationship to the earth… as well as some disciplined practice.

We still do that today!  Maybe not as often in our regular individual lives… other things often catch our attention.  But we do have entire sets of professional stargazers and skywatchers (and there are many amateur ones too).  Meteorologists can give us a sense of what to expect weatherwise and about how the climate of our planet is doing – along with directives as to what we might do about that.

Astronomers look out deep into space, and we continue to get very interesting answers to things we have wondered about the place where we live – the universe! our planet! the ground that we stand on!  All the while new questions emerge.

As people figured out the difference between the stars that appear fixed on the sky (at least, in the timescale of our lifetimes) and the planets that move around from night to night, they kept finding other things to pique their interest – unresolved questions.

In the mid-19^th century, one of the big unresolved matters was the question of “smudges” in the sky.  Things that were too fuzzy to be stars or planets.  What were they?

The astronomers Charles Messier and John Herschel, and many others, pondered about these smudges.  Some folks thought they were nebulous clouds of gas in space – nebulae, they called them.  Others thought that they were immense clusters of stars, what we now call galaxies, just like our Milky Way.

The technology at the time wasn’t making things clearer – the telescopes weren’t big enough, and the observations weren’t conclusive.  So, the 3^rd earl of Rosse, William Parsons, along with many other people, set about to build a bigger telescope – the biggest one yet – a leviathan.

The Leviathan of Parsonstown had a mirror 1.8 meters in diameter – six feet (and over the past three years, we’ve gotten a sense of how heavy six feet can feel).  And the tube that protected it needed to be held up by a kind of stone fortress that made the observatory look like a strange kind of castle.

When it was finished… they looked up the sky again.  As science explainer Hank Green enthusiastically proclaims, it turns out everyone was right!  Some of the smudges were clouds of gas – nebulae.  Others were gigantic clusters of stars – galaxies.

Of course, there’s a flipside to this.  In a way, it also means that everyone was wrong – at least to the extent that folks might have thought they were the only ones to be correct.

This isn’t the first or only time that something like this has happened in the story of people and in the story of science.  For centuries, people who ask questions, and who seek answers, have wondered whether light is a particle or a wave.  There have been intense disagreements and vigorous debates about this.  And part of the search about this involved looking up at the heavens.

Turns out, everyone was right – we now understand light to behave both as a wave and a particle – a wave-particle – and the answer sometimes depends on what kind of question you’re asking about it.  There are still some things we don’t understand about light – the quest continues.

Eventually, we’ve built bigger – and bigger-er telescopes.  Since the late 20^th century, we’ve had the Hubble space telescope, as well as other kinds of radio, x-ray, and infrared telescopes on earth.  Each of them offers interesting answers, and usually more questions.

We now have the James Webb space telescope – the biggest one yet, and we’re beginning to get some interesting answers, which… are raising questions about how we’ve come to understand the universe and its story – our story.  One of the early observations from the Webb telescope is that we’re finding ancient galaxies – almost as old as the universe – that seem to be too big for their age.  There’s an element of mystery here, and that can be unsettling, and also exciting.  This can bring up disagreements in how we understand the universe, though I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more than one correct answer.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that all answers are always equally correct.  The search for truth requires disciplined practice, honesty, and diligence.  It also requires a measure of humility – there are incorrect answers.  But finding one correct answer does not necessarily mean that other answers are always wrong.

My friends, our tradition – itself a legacy of traditions – also tells a set of stories about espousing multiple outcomes.  Both Unitarians and Universalists have come to understand that, in disagreements, presuming only one correct answer is too constraining, and it may indeed be one of the greatest mistakes.

Unitarians understood that recognizing a sense of divinity need not negate affirmation for the human spirit.  Universalists understood that one individual’s journey of redemption did not represent another one’s condemnation.  More than one person, and more than one option, can be right.  And that of course, can depend on the question that is asked, and it can include significant personal and spiritual work, a life-journey of searching, being open to surprising answers, and espousing a perpetually questioning mind.

My friends, our community of searchers thrives on this spiritual quest.  There have been and there will be disagreements.  And if we take our spiritual practice seriously, along with some humility, we may find more than one valid answer, as well as invitations to further exciting quests.

My friends, in this community, may we share a ministry of shared search, and shared insight.

So may it be,
In the spirit of multiple answers,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Hymn #283 The Spacious Firmament on High
Words: Joseph Addison 1672-1719, paraphrase of Psalm 19:1-6
Music: Franz Joseph Haydn, 1732-1809, adapt. Dulcimer, or New York Collection of Sacred Music, 1850, alt.
Tune CREATION

A Capella Hymns

Video Reading – The Most Important 10 Words A Stranger Ever Said to Me – by Hank Green in vlogbrothers

Sermon – The Doors of Perception – Rev. Rod

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Have you ever felt like, no matter how hard you try, other people simply aren’t impressed with you, or with what you do, and how you’re doing it?  And been convinced that no one else could possibly think otherwise?

How about this one: have you seen someone else do something that didn’t impress you?  And been convinced that no one else could possibly think otherwise?

Hank Green, from the vlogbrothers YouTube channel, describes that moment of “unconvincing”, when he first had a serious realization that his perception was not nearly as universal as he thought.

He shares the story of “[t]he most important 10 words a stranger ever said to [him]”, when he was at a summer camp in his tweens [ten or eleven years old], watching another fellow about his age… dancing in a way that he found… odd.  He describes the experience as “second-hand embarrassment”, convinced that whatever he was seeing was not what “cool” dancing should be.

As he watched in astonishment what he was convinced was a cringey display, an older “higher status” woman said to him those life-changing words: “I know, I wish I could dance like him too”.

This broke young Hank’s perception of reality at the time, prompting him to… redefine how he related with the reality that he shared with others.  He was surprised that, not only did his own account and evaluation of the scene not automatically transfer to everyone else, but he was dumbfounded that someone else might actually think the opposite.  And rather than thinking of the unorthodox dancer with embarrassment, she was impressed.

Although these life-changing words didn’t exactly turn around everything in Hank’s life, it did bring a shift in some of his modes of thinking.  His mind began training itself to listen to another voice beyond his own patterns of criticism, and to accept that others may be experiencing a somewhat different reality – one that he might find worth exploring, and which might even offer transformation in how he relates with himself and others – a conversion in his perception.

Our perceptions of others – and of ourselves – can be like that.  And our patters of thinking can convince us to be self-deprecating of our own worth and offerings, or to think of others with disdain.

But if we take a moment to appreciate the value of others’ perspectives, we might just find an opportunity of conversion toward a more affirming viewpoint.

Now, there is a flipside to this… just as we may sometimes have an exaggerated sense of our failings and shortcomings (or find ourselves overly-critical of others), it also happens that we can be… disproportionately confident in our abilities or in the quality of what we think we offer.  And other voices, when coming from people who have credibility in those areas, can also offer a path to a more balanced sense of who we can be and how our offerings may better impact others.

Likewise, there are times when it can be warranted for us to offer perspectives that may […] complement how others perceive themselves, if these are offered with love, with tact, and a genuine desire to be allies in those who trust our counsel – rather than seeking to impose our own perspective on others.  This, too, can be an affirming practice.  Of course, it helps if we have some level of authority on the matter, which is to say, there’s good reason to believe that we know what we are talking about.  Criticism for its own sake is seldom helpful, and unlikely to be heeded.

And still, being open to wisdom from unexpected places can bring surprising shifts in our perception.  A stranger’s words: “Yeah, I wish I could dance like him too” can bring a conversion from deprecation to appreciation; from derision to affirmation.

My friends, although Lent does not take the same prominence in our tradition as it might for many of our neighbours, I have been raising it up over the past few weeks because… it invites certain spiritual practices, and I’m the kind of person who’s into those “spiritual” things (as I imagine many of you hope I would).

So, as we’ve been heading into this Lenten season, I have been inviting us to consider those things in our lives that offer value, and which we seek to see more often, by opening up space and time for them.

In what is traditionally seen as a “fasting” season, one approach for that is to also consider those things that may be getting in the way, by taking too much time and space.  Now that Ash Wednesday is behind us, which in some traditions marks the beginning of the season, you may have been toying with the idea of giving something up, or conversely, taking something up.  Sometimes, these two paths go hand in hand.

And, here’s another perspective, what if this practice can involve taking a deeper look at the doors of our perceptions?  As Hank’s story illustrates, making space for someone else’s perspective can offer just that.  And when done with an affirming mindset, it may even help us make more room for ourselves to flourish – to find more confidence in what we do and to appreciate others in what they offer.  As well as to welcome balance into our lives when others offer us counsel, even if it may sometimes be hard to hear.

My friends, in this season of mind expansion, we may yet find transformation in unlikely places.  Wayward words from a stranger: “Yeah, I wish I could dance like him too” can remind us that we may be in a better place than we realize and that we can connect with others far more deeply than we might expect.

Because, who knows?  What if there are folks out there who wish they could dance like you, no matter how much you may doubt yourself?

What if, after thinking someone’s dial is only at Notch 8, someone else is looking at them thinking: “Yeah, I wish I could turn it up to 11 the way they do”?

What if, my friends, when you’re standing in front of a crowd – maybe this very pulpit – and you’re convinced things were a disaster, there are folks out there thinking “Yeah, I wish I could be in front of a crowd the way she does”?

What if, when we wonder if our singing, or our musical offerings, are up to snuff, there’s someone out there listening and wondering: “Yeah, I wish I could enjoy music the way they do”.

What if, when we welcome folks into our space and we’re wondering if they’d like to spend more time of inspiration and wonder with us, there are folks who say: “Yeah, I wish I could be part of that little white church in the country”.

My friends, sometimes there’s a voice in my mind that wonders: “Yeah, I wish I could be in a community of warmth and caring, that loves to look out for each other and make each other feel welcome”.  And then, another voice in my mind says: “Yeah, I am.”

So may it be,

In the spirit of shifting perceptions,

Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing #354 We Laugh, We Cry
~)-| Words & Music: Shelley Jackson Denham, 1950- , © 1980 Shelley Jackson Denham,
~)-| harmony by Betsy Jo Angebrandt, 1931- , © 1992 UUA
Tune CREDO

First Unitarian Church of Baltimore (10 January, 2021)

Opening Hymn #86 Blessed Spirit of My Life
Words & music: Shelley Jackson Denham, 1950- ,
© 1987 Shelley Jackson Denham
Tune PRAYER

Unitarian Society of Santa Barbara (20 March, 2021)

Sermon – Time Surplus…? – Rev. Rod

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A month ago, I spoke about my sense of pride in… showing off an empty bottle of olive oil.  More specifically, it was a special Mediterranean olive oil, brought directly from far away as a gift from a friend who’d been travelling.

In cases like these, it’s my instinct to “save” these special things for “later” – for some imagined special occasion that would warrant their use.  Inevitably, that special occasion either doesn’t happen, or it gets put off as life happens, or when it does happen… I’ve forgotten about that special thing that I was saving, which then ends up languishing until it is no longer fit for use.  So, I was particularly pleased with my empty bottle of fancy olive oil, that I gladly used up while celebrating ordinary time, recognizing that every moment we live can be special… if we allow it to be.

I also mentioned an 8-minute phone call technique that is proposed by columnist Jancee Dunn in a New York Times article, wherein she schedules a deliberately-short check-in with friends, ends it promptly, and schedules another one before signing off.  Her rationale is that proposing a digestible chunk of time makes it easier for her, and her potential contacts, to ensure they wedge in the moment of connection into their busy schedules.

The 8-minute number is perhaps arbitrary.  I don’t usually follow it myself, and I don’t know what number would work best for you, or your connections.  But it’s the mindset behind the technique that I find most useful – the practice of making an important task easier and more accessible, so that we actually do it when it matters most: now.

It also illustrates that important things don’t have to be daunting or onerous for them to matter – it’s getting to do them that matters.  If time feels scarce, then adapting to a manageable timeframe helps with that hurdle.  If we fear that one task will go beyond what we’re ready to commit to, then setting reasonable boundaries to our commitment allows us to offer whatever we are able to, without overextending ourselves.  In taking that extra step to recognize our limitations, we may yet be able to do what we set our hearts to, without hitting the wall of expecting an ideal time when we’ll be able to do all the things.

The same columnist, Jancee Dunn, happens to quote professor of psychiatry Dr. Bob Waldinger, who said that: “most busy people ‘tend to think that in some unspecified future, we’ll have a “time surplus,” where we’ll be able to connect with old friends.’ That may never materialize, he said, so pick up the phone and invest the time right now.” [The New York Times, “Day 2: The Secret Power of the 8-Minute Phone Call” by Jancee Dunn. Jan. 2, 2023]

Of course, that does not mean that it is not also worth thinking in the longer term.  Some investments take time to pay off.  Planning with vision for future goals can offer guidance and motivation for responsible choices, even when they might imply some sacrifice in the present.  Some goals may not be achieved in the short term or even in our lifetime.  Being mindful of the generations after us is a way to become worthy ancestors.

But relying exclusively on what we imagine might be the “right” conditions, for action to make the present worthwhile, can also rob us of the ability to take advantage of the present moment, for doing what we can, with what we have, and for making and maintaining connections that sustain us within our limitations.  And these are investments of their own.

At our church, we have now reinitiated some hospitality offerings.  It’s a somewhat scaled-back version of a practice we’d had for several years, before the pandemic made sharing food and drink much riskier.

Now that the risk feels more manageable, we have walked some steps toward resurrecting that practice.  The offerings may be more modest, usually some hot tea, rather than tea and coffee.  Some of you might remember quite substantial spreads on Sunday.  These days, we’ve begun to enjoy occasional nibbles, to go along with our hot drink.  This is what our volunteers, and the resources of time, space, work, and money that come along with them, are prepared to offer at this time.  It is manageable, and it is present.  And for these we are grateful.

There may be a future when our after-service gatherings look more like what we might imagine as a golden age, but rather than expect such future when an imagined surplus might or might not materialize, we make these Sunday afternoons a golden time.  We enjoy them because we can have them now, with the people who are here, and because they are gifted with love.  Love for our community, and love for fellowship that receives these gifts, these times, and this company with grace and gratitude.

In April, we’ll have another opportunity to resurrect a cherished practice of a larger-scale community meal within our walls – a chili lunch.  It’s a BYOB event… Bring Your Own Bowl.  The volunteer team has invited this initiative after recognizing the current limitations of our space for handling large volumes of dishes.  Clean-up can be quite a demanding task, especially as our kitchen does not currently have an industrial-grade dishwasher and sanitizing machine.  So we are asking for your assistance in bringing one dish for your chili, which you can look after at home.

Of course, our Property Team is looking into getting the hardware that would make these events easier with our inhouse serving ware.  But rather than wait for the ideal time when we might have a surplus of resources, we are making the time for warm fellowship and food now – this is the time we have.

So, my friends, we don’t know when we might have a time surplus, or a resource surplus, in an imagined future, which is why it pays off to invest in the present with the resources we have now, even when they might feel limited – they may well be more than we realize.

My friends, depending on what traditions are familiar to you, this coming Wednesday represents the beginning of the Lent season.  Some of you might know it as Ash Wednesday.  And the Lenten season can offer us an opportunity to reflect on some practices that we may already seek to uphold during “ordinary time”… but which may yet have fallen by the wayside, so the calendar offers us an additional excuse – an invitation – to pay extra attention to them.

Sometimes, the Lenten practice is framed as a fast, and in a narrow definition of fasting, it may mean reduced food intake, or giving up certain foods (or other things that we might put into our bodies).  But we can also look at a broader understanding of fasting as reducing those things that take more time and space in our lives than we’d like.  To turn them down a notch.  Paradoxically, these self-imposed limitations can open up room for more of those other things that we recognize as important in our lives… things that we wish we could turn up to 11, if only we had time and space for them – which we just might have… if we mindfully make it so.

My friends, our limitations (personal and collective) might be constraining and restrictive.  They are also invitations to take action and connect – however we may be able.  Scarcity can represent real hardship, and it may also be a guide in searching for the wealth that is available to us.

My friends, our community represents rich resources of time, space, warmth, and love.  A wealthy surplus of these may abound in the times and spaces where we are now.

May we search for that surplus together.

So may it be,
In the spirit of hidden wealth, in all its dimensions,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing #288 All Are Architects
~)-| Words: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882
~)-| Music: Thomas Benjamin, 1940- , © 1992 Unitarian Universalist Association
Tune WOODLAND

UUCC Music Director Anna Hamilton

Opening Hymn #299 Make Channels for the Streams of Love
Words: From Richard Chenevix Trench, 1807-1886
Music: American folk melody, arr. by Annabel Morris Buchanan, 1889-1983, © 1938, renewed 1966 J. Fischer & Bros. Co., harmony by Charles H. Webb, 1933- , © 1989 J. Fischer & Bros. Co.
Tune LAND OF REST

Michael Tacy (15 August, 2020)

Sermon – Friendship Recession – Rev. Rod

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Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us, and it is customary in our Canadian culture to highlight romantic relationships around this time.  Some of you may be planning a special dinner with a partner, or perhaps a card and gift exchange with them.

And… as if often the case with holidays, there may be some baggage around this holiday, as well.  Perhaps your partner is no longer around, and this time may highlight their absence.  Maybe you haven’t had a partner in while and the emphasis on romantic love brings up feelings of exclusion (I’ve been there before).  Or maybe a previous partnership has left scars or painful memories that don’t seem conducive to celebration.

Is there a way to expand the meaning and focus of this day beyond the romantic dimension?

As it turns out, when I was growing up in Mexico, Valentine’s Day was actually branded Love and Friendship Day (Día del Amor y la Amistad), such that romantic and platonic aspects of love were celebrated, offering a more inclusive holiday.  In some places in Latin America this can include a “secret friends” practice, similar to our “secret Santa” tradition.

I have to say that I originally found it puzzling when that side of the holiday wasn’t as prevalent here, when I first arrived in Canada – though I’ve seen versions of this expanded approach in elementary school and some workspaces, in which card and candy exchanges among peers is sometimes encouraged.

And, while holding friendships may be a more universal and inclusive experience than being in a current partnership, people who study populations have noticed that we may be having fewer friendships than what we used to have.

It seems that, amidst current talk of possible economic recessions, there may be a larger unseen recession going on… a friendship recession.

Last year, the Survey Center on American Life published findings that people currently report having fewer friends than before.

There are many reasons for this.  The pandemic has certainly played a role in how we engage socially, and has complicated the calculations we might make for social interaction.  But the trend goes beyond the past three years.  Curiously, one factor has been identified as “declining religious involvement”.

It has also been observed that one group is particularly vulnerable in the friendship front – men.  And this may be attributed to men being socialized to certain ideals of masculinity that discourage showing affection, or displaying vulnerability.  This may be another illustration that – at least in some respects – patriarchal systems hurt everyone.

Age also seems to come into play, as it seems that adults have a harder time striking up new friendships than children.

As children, and perhaps young adults, we spend time in school settings that might make forming friendships seem like a low-effort enterprise for many of us, as constant exposure to peers of similar age, sharing a similar experience, and perhaps sharing similar life outlooks, offer an environment where nearly any situation might expose you to potential pals.

Later adulthood, however, reveals a different reality, where making new friends often requires additional intentionality, and competing life priorities might easily drown out the importance of finding folks with whom we can find support, share vulnerability, and foster meaningful moments outside of work or home life.

Now, while it may be true that forming adult friendships often calls for some extra effort, it might not be as difficult as we might think.

For my partner and I, one of our newer friendships locally came by through a combination of happenstance as well as a measure of intentionality, and some willingness to take low-level risks.

A few years ago, not long after we arrived in the county, we attended a local agricultural fair.  Dropping by the open-air Sunday service at the fair, I felt that the guest minister had said things that resonated with me and my approach to spirituality and community.  After the service, I saw that he was hanging out near his church’s tent.  After a short contemplation, I thought: “Let’s go say ‘hi’.”

Depending on your own… level of comfort with meeting strangers, this might represent a measure of risk.  It could be an awkward meeting.  Maybe the new acquaintance might have no interest in interacting with you – and this could feel like rejection.  Or perhaps it may simply feel like too much effort, if you’re in a space where you’d rather be on your own.

But, if you’re looking for new connections, the stakes are probably worth it – and in all likelihood, the fears around them may be unfounded to begin with.  You may find that others are more likely to engage than you might expect.

After introducing myself to this colleague from a different tradition, we struck a comfortable conversation.  He and his wife were also fairly new to the area and didn’t mind meeting new people, as it turns out.  We got a dinner invitation on the spot.  This, too, might have represented a level of effort – or perhaps risk – on their part.  Either way, we found it to be worth it, and we continue to make space and time for us to hang out.  A couple weeks ago, the four of us went as a joint team at a trivia night, and we were excited to get to third place, being that we didn’t feel particularly knowledgeable about the subject matter (then again, the award placings weren’t the main point).

I have shared that this year, I’m following a theme of expanding connection and re-connection, and have found that phone contacts with friends and family I haven’t talked to in a while are easier to do than I sometimes lead myself to believe.  There’s sometimes a sense of inertia when you haven’t talked to someone in a while, and eventually, the reason you don’t call them is… because you haven’t called them.  My experience lately, is that they’re usually more than happy to hear from you again.

Here at the church of Olinda, our mission and practice include space for fostering friendship.  The words to our Chalice Lighting invite us to offer fellowship, and call us to one community of warmth and light. 

We see and hear concrete examples of this mission and practice.  We uphold traditions of shared community meals – established and re-emerging.  Some of you get together of your own account, building on your acquaintance from shared time and space in worship (and over the past weeks we have heard some of you sharing celebrations of these encounters).

Some of these manifestations come from the “institutional” dimension of our church, including the work of our Caring Committee, with an established mandate to connect with folks in vulnerable moments or facing prospects of isolation, as well as our Membership Team, who grow links among members and offer opportunities for community-building.  Some manifestations are more organic, as you seek out your own deepening relationships with members and participants. 

My friends, all of these require some level of effort and perhaps risk – and these are usually worth it.  And as we remain mindful of this intentionality, we build upon the wealth of camaraderie that can shield us from the hazards of a friendship recession.

My friends, there is no shame in reaching out and making connections – we need these.  During a holiday time that celebrates love, there is no need to limit the reach of affection to romantic relationships, which represent but one manifestation of special friendship.  And platonic friendships may offer special connection of their own.  Our platonic companions are more than “just” friends (as we sometimes call them), they are gifts of mutual support, havens for shared vulnerability, and sources of meaning-making.  Like any investment, there are some initial costs and require work, and they can be risky, but the rate of return can yield infinite results as they mature.

My friends, in our community of faith, we practice the co-creation of this special wealth, and in our wider communities, we also have opportunities to make valuable investments that can bring us out of a friendship recession.

So may it be,
In the spirit of friendship,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Hymn #18 What Wondrous Love
Words: American folk hymn
~)-| New Words by Connie Campbell Hart, 1929- © 1992 UUA
Melody: Melody from The Southern Harmony, 1835
Tune WONDROUS LOVE

Foothills Unitarian Church

This week, the Canadian Unitarian Council is hosting a National Service. This is an opportunity to see fellow Unitarian Universalists from across Canada!

You’re invited to join the service on Zoom (brief registration with name and e-mail address):

Join National Sunday Service – Covenanting Through Transitions Sunday, February 5 at 1PM

There is also the option to watch the livestream on the Canadian Unitarian Council‘s YouTube channel.

We will resume our regular Sunday morning services (10:30am), with in-person options, next week (Feb. 12).

Glen Jackson

Presentation originally offered on 22 January, 2023

Time for All Ages – “These Go to 11” –

Excerpt from This is Spinal Tap (1984 “rockumentary”)

Video Reading –Take it Down a Notch – John Green | vlogbrothers

Author and vlogger John Green reflects on finding balance in 2023:

Sermon – Down a Notch – Rev. Rod

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Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

The 1984 mockumentary (or rather “rockumentary”) This is Spinal Tap, features a fictional metal rocker proudly displaying the equipment for his band’s amps, confidently explaining that the notches in regular amps go to 10, but his band’s dials “go to 11”.  The phrase “turning it up to 11” has since entered the popular imagination as a catchy phrase to illustrate taking things to the extreme, going the extra mile, or heading just a bit more beyond the limit – literally giving it 110%.

And pushing our limits is, indeed, one of the ways that we often think of growth.  In fact, we often encourage it in our spiritual communities, as going a bit out of our comfort zones can often offer novel experiences, new points of view and perspectives, and a wider sense of who we are and who we can become individually and as part of a community.

This can mean taking on new tasks or seeking ways to improve what we are already doing.  At our church, that can take the shape of stepping into a volunteer position, like joining a committee (or maybe chairing one), leading a service, offering to host a social gathering (at home or in our building), or helping out with the practical and logistical needs of making a place homey and welcoming.

For many of you this may be an expansion of what you already do.  Or, it could be an entirely new thing altogether, which can be exciting and scary at the same time.  Speaking in front of people can do that for some of us, even more so when there are a lot of moving parts.

At the same time, self-improvement can take a seemingly opposite – but complementary – shape.  Instead of turning it up to 11, it is also a perfectly legitimate option to take it down a notch from time to time.

Setting boundaries, or finding where our limitations are, can also be a practice of personal growth.  Sometimes, the need to take it down a notch may be the result of recognizing that pushing some limits may simply not do us – or others – much good.

Other times, it may be that we find newer limits, which can come from changing life circumstances, health issues, emerging personal needs, or the transforming needs of a community.

There is also the possibility that allowing space for less may open up space for more in other dimensions of our lives, which might have been neglected, or could otherwise use more attention – turning it down a notch so that we may devote 11 where it’s needed more.  As we head into the Lenten season in February, we sometimes explore how having less, or doing less, of something can make space for more of what we might me missing.

Or… in turning it down a notch, we may open up space for someone else to expand their limits – going down to 9 so that someone else may have some room to move into 11.

Perhaps it isn’t so much one’s actions that need turning down, but it’s expectations that could use coming down a notch.  Be these some expectations of oneself, or the expectations we have of others.  Maybe it’s OK if all we can offer is an 8 – or a 7 – and it’s worth remembering this when others aren’t in a position to go to 11… or, maybe they are at 11 but we may be using different scales with different units, an altogether different standard.

The author and vlogger John Green has made it his goal in 2023 to “take it down a notch”.  With many projects on the go, he’s come to recognize that a lot of his life involves turning it up to 11, but he’s seeing that this is not sustainable.  Green is not much older than me, and he may look quite young to many of you, but the truth is that all ages have spots when it might make sense to take it down a notch, even if those spots might come up more often later in life.

Now that I’m in middle age (as I’ve recently been reminded), I too find that there are some areas where I could use turning it down a notch.  It’s become abundantly clear to me that I cannot keep the same lifestyle that I had in my school days (and often that’s probably a good thing).  And many things may be true at the same time – I still find spots where I might do well in turning it up to 11… or at least keeping it at 10.

I mentioned a couple weeks ago that one of my personal themes for this year is deeper connection – or reconnection – with friends and family, so I’m turning my efforts to reach out to them up to 11.  I’ve also found it helpful to be more mindful about some of my expectations, and turning some of these down a notch helps make it easier to be satisfied with others’ efforts, as well as with my own sense of accomplishment.  A little anticippointment can go a long way.

Here at our church, you may have seen that some folks take on a number of roles, and there are good reasons why many of you do.  You may well enjoy these roles, or find them otherwise fulfilling in what you accomplish through them.  You may be well-suited to the task.  And you may also do them with a sense that no one else might take them on if you don’t.

Maybe you’ve been wondering if you can assist on these tasks, or even filling in when someone else is ready for a break.  And perhaps some time and space has opened up for you and you’re ready to take on something that wasn’t as feasible before.  Some of you are already being part of making these kinds of transition happen.

Because that is how a community like ours can run – not just through the efforts of devoted folks who take leadership, but also owing to the spaces made possible by sharing our ministry.  And by recognizing that not all of our expectations from ourselves and the community may be fulfilled at a given time – some may take longer, some may not be realistic at all, or anymore.  Alongside our shared efforts, a measure of grace goes a long way.

My friends, now that January is nearly over, we’ve had a chance to test out our emerging goals and outlooks for the year.  Perhaps you’ve identified a theme that resonates with you as you’ve found something that you want more of in your life… or something you want less of.

Taking it down a notch, my friends, is a legitimate way to take care of oneself, and of others.  And it is also an invitation for those who are thinking of taking 11 out for a spin – or even trying out 9, or 8.

My friends, there are times and there are spaces for pushing the limits, and there are times and spaces for acknowledging limitations.  There also times and spaces to offer ourselves and others a measure of grace.

May we allow ourselves these times and these spaces.

So may it be,
In the spirit of balance,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing #94 What Is This Life
Words: William Henry Davies, 1869-1941
Music: A. D. Carden’s Missouri Harmony, 1820
Tune DEVOTION

Community UU Congregation at White Plains

Opening Hymn #353 Golden Breaks the Dawn
Words: v. 1 from the Chinese of T. C. Chao, b. 1888,
trans. by Frank W. Price and Daniel Niles,
~)-| v. 2 by John Andrew Storey, 1935-1997
Music: Hu Te-Ai, b.c. 1900,
~)-| harmony by David Dawson, 1939-
Tune LE P’ING

Unitarian Universalist Society of Laconia NH

Sermon – Special Occasions – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

The cook and best-selling author Samin Nosrat is perhaps best known for her book Salt Fat Acid Heat – the title refers to four of the basic elements of cooking.  She also hosts the Netflix series of the same name.

When talking about the basic cooking element of fat (which is also an essential nutrient), she spends much time talking about olive oil – which is among the oldest cooking fats, as well as one of the healthiest, not to mention very flavourful.

In a conversation about olive oil with one of her show’s co-hosts, they discuss an anecdote about one of their friends – a bride who received an expensive bottle of exotic olive oil as a wedding gift.  Being that the bottle was so special, the bride sought to extend her enjoyment of it by using it sparingly, bringing it out only for special occasions, such as their wedding anniversary.  Even years after her wedding, the bride would take out the exotic, expensive olive oil and use just a bit of it, saving the rest for the next year.

There’s an endearing element to this ritual, and it has a certain value as a practice to celebrate a special date, marking a special time.

Although… if you know anything about olive oil, you might remark that it doesn’t keep well over time – especially once it’s been opened.  Year after year, this extremely refined olive oil would become increasingly rancid, and it’d eventually be no better – in fact, measurably worse – than any ordinary bargain oil you’d get at the local grocery store.

Anniversary celebrations aside, if the purpose was to enjoy the oil to the fullest extent of what it has to offer, she’d have been better off using it right after it’d been opened, adding it to every meal that called for it.

Now, I have to admit that I see a bit of myself in this story.  And maybe you’ve found yourself in similar situations.  I think of those times when one might have gotten something really special, and followed an instinct to save it – one might even say, hoard it – lest we run out of it too soon and not get to enjoy it in the future.

And I’ve been heartbroken many times, when I’ve finally had to resign myself to throwing out special treats or foods that I’d been saving up for the right time – a special occasion – only for it to be wasted, never to have been enjoyed at all.

Yes, a measure of restraint can be an indication of virtue – having too much of a good thing at one time can be sign of vice.  And practicing some strategic temperament over impulsivity has its place in running a balanced and healthy life.

Yet hoarding, or dawdling on good things, can be a vice of its own, and there are some special things that really do call to be used when you can, regardless of whether or not the situation appears to “measure up” to its particular… specialness. 

In fact, those special things, treats, foods, etc., may be quite helpful in reminding us that the ordinary times can be celebrated as well.  As important as it is to mark and recognize times that are labeled as “special” – be it by tradition, practice, or the stories that come along with them – it may be just as important to remain mindful of the wonder that the present moment offers.  And if we can add a nice treat to it, that might go a long way to enhancing the moment, and help us remember that “ordinary time” is precious in itself.

Now that the new year has begun in earnest (getting to the point where it might feel out of place to greet someone with the phrase “Happy New Year!”), the winter holiday season seems to be officially behind us (we don’t even have the Feast of the Epiphany left to celebrate).  There will be other holidays, minor and major ones – days that might be marked by the calendar manufacturers: Groundhog Day (or Candlemas, if you want to be more traditional); Valentine’s Day (which, like many holidays, may bring its own baggage); Family Day for those in Ontario (a full stat holiday even); eventually some of us might begin some kind of Lenten observance in preparation toward Easter; and so on, among others that could be named.

For now, we’re in the middle of January.  Some of us might recognize World Religion Day today, or prepare to honour Martin Luther King Jr. on Monday, especially if you have a US background or connections there.  But for the most part, the latter part of January (and into February) simply doesn’t seem have the same spirit of celebration that often comes with December.

Last month, I offered affirmation and encouragement around the increased connection that many of you might partake in during the winter holidays, some of it even face-to-face.  Sometimes, having certain special days in the calendar helps us to have a good excuse to get together, or reach out more than we might ordinarily do – it also helps that more people might have more time off, to travel or to set time aside for connecting.

And there’s no reason why some aspects of those practices can’t carry over into this time of the year.  It might not involve the same level of extravagance that some of you might take over holiday times, and there might be less time and space for that anyway, but the spirit of connection need not dwindle away.  If anything, there may be a greater call – and a larger need – to diligently carry it through.

I am aware that many of you already have a practice of regularly checking in with some of your family, friends, or neighbours, maybe weekly or even daily, and that is a practice that can allow you to maintain the specialness of the moments that every day may offer, even if the calendar doesn’t offer an “official” excuse to do so.

Or… maybe that practice has fallen off by the wayside, or you might be wondering about how to start it up in the first place.

I have spoken before about approaching the practice of new year resolutions a little differently.  Rather than taking an attitude of rigid goals or specific tasks, I might instead think of the year as having a theme, and the theme of renewing connection has resonated with me lately.

While staying connected with my support network (or being part of that network for others) is not new to me, I’ve lately felt the need to pay extra attention to that area of my life.  One practice that I’ve found very helpful over the past while is to schedule calls with people in my life that I haven’t connected with as much as I’ve wanted.  Now, long “catch-up” calls may feel daunting, but it can help if we agree to schedule future follow-up calls from the get-go, so that we are comfortable leaving some conversations unfinished.  The calls I’ve been having with my friends and family tend to take about an hour – but there are other options.

The New York Times columnist Jancee Dunn suggests scheduling 8-minute calls, which make it likelier that her potential connections will be inclined to wedge in the check-ins into their schedules, without feeling obligated to stay longer, and encouraging more frequent follow-ups.

I don’t know what might be your magic number, but exploring discrete morsels of time might be one way to make connecting, or re-connecting, a more manageable task (if that’s something you struggle with).

Here, at our church, we have an established (and re-emerging) practice of holding some opportunities for connection, even if there isn’t a particular calendar date to honour (sometimes, it’s precisely because there isn’t a particular date to honour, which in turn offers more space and time).

In a bit over a week, we have an opportunity to be part of our soup fundraiser, and our auction will come up in a couple of months.  Some of you are interested in hosting small-group dinners at your place.  The dates when these happen don’t necessarily hold particular significance – beyond the fact that each of us is setting them in the calendar and intentionally making them special out of our own accord.

My friends, whatever your intentions might be for this year, they don’t need to wait for the calendar to give you an excuse.  Sure, the calendar might sometimes make that easier, but living in “ordinary time” need not be a barrier toward finding special moments.

If anything, my friends, ordinary time may in itself be the perfect reason, the perfect excuse, for seeking out what is special about the here, and the now.

My friends, who knows when the opportunity might pass.  And saving the special moments only for what we expect might be the special occasions might mean that we could miss out entirely, like a bottle of expensive olive oil that has been left out too long.  Now is the time, my friends, for co-creating special occasions.

So may it be,
In the spirit of ordinary connection,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Hymn #77 Seek Not Afar for Beauty
~)-| Words: Minot Judson Savage, 1841-1918
Music: Cyril V. Taylor, b. 1907, © Hope Publishing Co.
Tune COOLINGE

Unitarian Universalists of San Luis Obispo

Opening Hymn #259 We Three Kings of Orient Are
Words & Music: John Henry Hopkins, Jr., 1820-1891
Tune KINGS OF ORIENT

Unitarian Universalist Society of Laconia

Sermon – Links in the Description – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

As the Christmas season draws to a close, its most recent related holiday was Epiphany, this past Friday Jan. 6 – often called the 12^th Night of Christmas, which is referenced in the song about the partridge on the pear tree.

The word Epiphany itself refers to a divine manifestation – a revelation of sorts.  In the Christmas story, it’s about the divine presence that is contained in an unexpected place – a child in a humble lodging in a dingy town in Judea, a far-off corner of the Roman Empire.

But, as the story goes, those who were ready to look beyond appearances were able to recognize the awesome presence in that child.  As the Epiphany carol We Three Kings of Orient Are suggests, the stargazers from the east followed special signs that led them to make that connection.  A similar thing is said to have happened to many local shepherds, who were prepared to go deeper than the superficial setting of the child’s whereabouts.

There are many unexpected connections we can make – with a bit of extra digging.

A couple Easters ago, I talked about the wonder of allowing oneself to go down unexpected “rabbit holes” – that is to say, letting ourselves follow interesting paths when exploring a topic, or subject of interest, which may often mean we end up in a much different place from where we started, as our initial query may have been transformed.

If, for instance, you’ve ever looked up an article on Wikipedia, and then clicked a link on a related topic, and suddenly found yourself several articles deep, many hours later, you’ll know what I mean.

Of course, these rabbit holes of exciting exploration don’t necessarily need to be on Wikipedia, or even online.  Any stroll down a bookstore or library, including your own bookshelves, may yield similar results.  Even a casual chat with a friend is often bound to take interesting turns, and you might find that the topic at the end of your visit might be very different from where you were, many conversations before, at the beginning of a visit.

Of course, online media has a way to enhance the speed at which these rabbit holes go – and it’s also important to be especially cautious with the content that is available on the internet, since out of the great volume of information we can find on it, much of it is not always reliable.  Finding trustworthy sources, and coming in with a healthy dose of skepticism, can help reduce the risk.  With a bit of caution, we can find fun, interesting, and even transformative material.

Over the past couple of years, we have made much more ample use of online resources at our church.  We occasionally have online resources during our live in-person services, including music, and what I call “video readings”.  Not only are we broadcasting online live, but we also have archived sermons, so you may watch some of the messages of inspiration from more than two years ago.  And these options can go further than you might realize.

You may have noticed that, when I send out the link for the online edition of our services, I don’t just title my e-mail “Sermon”, I call it “Worship Resources”.  I do this quite deliberately, as I often include more than just a transcript of the sermon and a recording of it.

When you click the link in the Worship Resources e-mail, you usually, also have access to recordings of some of the hymns that go along with the topic we explore, and I often also include links to articles or videos that I might not have included in the live service, but which are related to the topic, or may even have been part of my inspiration toward it.

If you watch exclusively on YouTube, without accessing the UU Olinda page, you can also find any links by scrolling down a bit to where it says Show more and clicking there, which expands to offer additional details.  This is what is called the description of the video, and that’s where I may include links to resources for further exploration.

In some of the sermon recordings, you might hear me say “links in the description” – it is this Show more doohickey that I mean by “the description”.  In 2009 the YouTuber Wheezy Waiter called this section for description of details the dooblydoo, an expression that has also caught on among YouTubers.  Whether you look at the “links in the description” or “in the dooblydoo”, the key action is looking at that option to Show More – on offering to find additional connections.

I set up these options in these different ways in order to offer some possibilities beyond the Sunday service.  Whether you attended live, online or in-person, or you access the services later on, you can continue to use these Worship Resources throughout the week, or even months later.

Over the holiday season, I celebrated and encouraged us in our community to seek out new connections, or actively maintain existing ones.  This could mean getting in touch with other people, or perhaps figuring out new ways to foster a better relationship with oneself, especially if the holiday time meant spending more time at home during a snowstorm.

Whether the past holidays meant more cozy time by the fireplace (or perhaps with a streamed version of a fireplace, such as the blockbuster film Fireplace for Your Home), or whether it meant a resurgence of in-person encounters, it may well have meant a change of pace from some of the other, more “regular” times of the year – the “ordinary time”.

Yet, as we begin a new year, amid more “regular” spots in the calendar, it pays off to consider what it means to keep this spirit of connection – or re-connection – into this year.  This includes seeking out new opportunities, some of which may seem hidden or not immediately obvious, but which may be quite close-by – if we invest some effort or intentionality in looking for them… if we decide to take that extra step and look for “Show More”… to explore the “links in the description”.

Some of these may be just a click away – literally scrolling down and being open to go into a new rabbit hole and see what direction a link (a connection) might lead us into.  It may include being open to connecting over new media (with appropriate precautions), or reinitiating our use of more traditional media, such as phone, or post mail – or even getting back into the practice of spending time with each other after the church service… you know, doing more church after “church”.

My friends, the holiday time may offer us a reminder to be intentional in connecting through the colder, darker winter months.  And, just like the spirit of Christmas, that initiative need not be confined to December.

My friends, during the more “regular” times of the year, the spirit of connection may remain with us.  It may look different – our availabilities, energy levels, and needs, will be different in different seasons – but the opportunities to be with each other, and the benefits of exploring reconnection with ourselves and those around us, are still there.

My friends, may the spirit of connection and reconnection carry forward in this new season.

So may it be,
In the spirit of connection,
Amen

Copyright © 2023 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #326 Let All the Beauty We Have Known
~)-| Words: Dana McLean Greeley, 1908-1986
Music: English melody, adapt. and harmony by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1872-1958, © 1931 Oxford University Press
Tune DANBY

Unitarian Universalist Church Utica (30 January, 2021)

Opening Carol #241 In the Bleak Midwinter

Words: Christina Georgina Rossetti, 1830-1894
~)-| New words by John Andrew Storey, 1935-1997
Music: Gustav Theodore Holst, 1874-1934
Tune CRANHAM

First Unitarian Church of Baltimore

Homily – Housewarming – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

I have often spoken about the Mexican holiday tradition of posadas, in which folks in small communities re-enact an interpretation of the Christmas story, wherein Mary and Joseph knock at different doors, looking for lodging, and repeatedly being turned away, all the while, Mary being pregnant and expecting her son Jesus.  The word posada is Spanish for inn.

But some of the keener listeners among you may have noticed that inn is not the word I used when reading out the Christmas lesson today.  Sure, most current translations of Luke 2:7 speak about there being “no room at the inn”, but among the many parts of the Christmas story that raise questions for scholars, the translation of the word inn (for the ancient Greek katalouma) comes up.

Many scholars believe that the word could more accurately be translated as guest room (which is the word I used today).  Households in Bethlehem, like many places in the region at the time, would likely have a guest room, to house relatives or other travelers, and some biblical scholars suggest that the holy family in the story may been staying with their extended family (Bethlehem, after all, would have been a hometown of sorts for Joseph).  In that case, the house would have been more crowded than expected, and they would have had to stay in the lower level of the home, were the animals were also around… not where they would have expected to be, but a warm enough space to bear and shelter a child.

This evening, some of us are not where we expected to be… as our church building was snowed in, our preferred spiritual home is less accessible than usual, some among us may have had travel plans upended this weekend, you may be hosting unexpectedly, or more likely have visitors sending regrets.  Nonetheless, if you are joining us in this space, you are likely to have found a place that is warm enough to shelter you and anyone around you, and to bear witness to this holiday, however you feel the need to observe it.

Whichever your observances, my friends, the realities of this season – as witnessed particularly over the past couple of days – are that our shelter is an important place in which to find a homebase.  And setting it up in the way that makes that stay as pleasant and heartwarming as possible is part of the necessity, and spirit, of the season.

This month, my friends, we have been exploring the call for us to get into the mood for what we might call “hibernation”, and today is a good place to put that into practice.  Be it decking the hall, lighting a fire, watching a show featuring a fire – or any other classic film, or simply putting on a good winter sweater with the right winter food, today is a good place to put the spirit of hibernation into practice.

My friends, it is also a day in which to witness the hardship that many in our community have in being able to hibernate in comfort, and we make it a practice to remember all our community members, near and far, and make efforts to make access for housewarming spaces easier and more accessible, be it with gifts of money, time, or advocacy.  That is also part of the necessity, and spirit, of the season.

And so, my friends, just as we warm each other today with our presence, we may warm our hearts and our homes tonight, and search to warm the hearts and the homes of those around us.

So may it be,
In the Spirit of the Season,
Amen

Copyright © 2020 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Carol #251 Silent Night, Holy Night

Words: Joseph Mohr, 1792-1848
Music: Franz Xaver Gruber, 1787-1868
Tune STILLE NACHT

Michael Tacy – Joint Choir of Gathering at Northern Heights (Cincinnati) and Heritage UU