Opening Hymn #266 Now the Green Blade Riseth
Words: John MacLeod Campbell Crum, 1872-1958, atl.,
© 1964 Oxford University Press
Music: Medieval French carol, harmony by Marcel Dupré, 1886-1971,
© Alphonse Leduc, Paris
Tune NOEL NOUVELET

Steph and Les Tacy (30 March, 2021)

Time for All Ages

Are you stuck in the sad gap? – Hank Green from vlogbrothers (15 April, 2022)

And for a deeper look into some of the emerging good news, you can also take a look at this video:

We WILL Fix Climate Change – Kurzgesagt (5 April, 2022)

Sermon – No News ? No News – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF available for download]

The earliest versions of the book of Mark end in a cliff-hanger.  As a group of friends of Jesus go to visit his tomb, they find that the boulder has been rolled away, and a mysterious man confirms that Jesus is not there and hints that he has been lifted from that place.  With little more concrete information than the fact that the tomb is empty, the friends leave with a sense of terror, mystery, and silence.  And the book ends with the ominous words “…for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8)

Later versions of Mark had a couple of endings that have some rather amazing news, but for a while, both the characters in the story and the readers of Mark, were left in suspense.

Now, just because we don’t hear news, or we aren’t told this news, doesn’t mean that there aren’t newsworthy events in the works.

For instance, on April 18, 1930, the newly-established British Broadcasting Corporation (the BBC), had a rather short report, which I’ll read out here in its entirety: “Good evening.  Today is Good Friday.  There is no news.”  This was followed by piano music. 

Now, in the time and the place in which we live, that kind of announcement might prompt a wistful longing for what might sound like a simpler time.  We might even wonder if our current news outlets could ever dare giving such calming reports, and offer us a welcome break from the current flood of usually worrisome news.

But, of course, although there was no news reported by the BBC that particular day, we know that events happened on that day.  Things occurred that are in the historical record, and they were reported in other places, especially in those places that were most affected by those events.

In fact, rather significant and noteworthy events happened on April 18, 1930 – at least, the kind of things that we might well hear reported on the news today (and yes, much of this was what we would call bad news).  Typhoon Leyte swept through the Philippines, causing widespread damage, much in the way that we recognized this week the news from tropical storm Megi (in the Philippines, no less).  Another tragic event was the death of several parishioners, many of them children, at a Romanian church in Coste?ti, when candles for the Good Friday service ignited some of the drapery.

And… there was also a large rebellion in the Bengal province of British India, where British Imperial troops were called in to quell this uprising by colonized peoples, who disagreed with the colonial powers.  Somehow, that particular event didn’t make it into the BBC’s Good Friday report.

Even when we do keep meticulous track of the news, there are some days in which the news may still occasionally seem… lighter than others, especially when compared to our times.

Of course, the noteworthiness of events has a certain inherent subjectivity to it, but it is possible to have a methodical approach to gauge which days were more noteworthy than others.

The True Knowledge events database did just that.  It is now known as Evi and it is part of what powers the electronic assistant Alexa.  And according to a computer scientist who worked in the development of this database, the day that is considered to have the least noteworthy events of the 20^th century – in other words, its most boring day – is April 11, 1954 (apparently April is that kind of a month).

In terms of the number of news events, and their relative significance, April 11, 1954 had fairly few.  Among the highlights of the day were a number of sporting competitions, and a fairly low-key election in Belgium.  The most notable birth was possibly Ian Akyildiz, a Turkish electrical engineer who has written a few textbooks and has done some work on cellular technology (though you’ve probably never heard of him).

So, what are we to make of days like April 18, 1930, when the BBC reported that there was no news?  Or days like April 11, 1954, which some database engineers consider to be the most boring day of the 20^th century?

Well, the first thing that jumps out at me, is that the lack of news on the BBC does not equal a lack of news, and certainly not a lack of events.  The typhoon that swept the Philippines on April 18 of 1930, would have been quite significant to the people that were directly affected by it.  The fire at a church in Coste?ti, Romania, that same day, meant that Good Friday would forever mean something different to the families of that parish and the citizens of that town.  The rebellion in Bengal province that happened on that day was not insignificant to the colonized peoples of India, and in the wider context of the history of India, it was likely to have been a contributor to its eventual independence.

These may not have been considered newsworthy events to all people in every part of the world, but they were real things that happened to real people, with real meanings attached to them, and which, in their own way had real consequences… some may well have eventually had world-changing consequences, even if they were overlooked – or maybe even intentionally ignored – by the news curators of a certain time and a certain place.

And even the seemingly-boring news items of April 11, 1954 would have had significance for the people involved in them… and to people who came after them, even if that significance might have been hidden.  The different sporting events that were held that day would have been important to all sorts of sports fans – and I know some among you are that sort of people, who are unlikely to settle for a description of a sporting event as “boring”.  That’s without even mentioning the athletes involved, for whom these might have been career-changing or even life-changing events, and who in turn may have gone to influence several generations to pay closer attention to physical activity, be it competitively, for fun, or for health.

The 1954 Belgian elections, and the modest legislative output that followed, may have been relatively unremarkable, but political decisions are never insignificant, and this election likely had enduring effects, even if many may have remained invisible for many years.

Even the innocuous birth of Ian Akyildiz, the electrical engineer who you’ve probably never heard of, likely had an effect on the people who he helped educate on his subject, or who built upon his inventions and technological developments.

No news does not equal no news.

There is always news, even if it is sometimes hidden underground, under a stone, [take out Easter egg] like an Easter egg waiting to be found and appreciated.

These days, we have no shortage of news, and yet amid the torrent of quite significant – if worrisome – news, there is a whole set of noteworthy events happening that might still escape our attention, perhaps because their significance is not always immediately apparent, keeping us in suspense.  And still, my friends, many of these are even good news.

Increasingly, we are now at a time when economic growth may well be decoupled from the need to emit greenhouse gasses – that is to say, it is no longer a given that reducing greenhouse emissions automatically means economic losses; sometimes, the opposite is now true, as green energy is increasingly making more business sense than dirtier energy.  This did not happen overnight.  Much of this came from long strings of days when nothing seemed to be happening, when it seemed there was no news on that front.  To be sure, there are many daunting challenges ahead, but while fighting a climate crisis remains difficult it is not impossible.

Our responses to Covid threats continue to run into frustrating setbacks, yet even into the latest wave, we continue to see lower proportions of severe illness among our populations.  A lot of it is due to international cooperation, and medical breakthroughs, many of which lay low in the public’s attention until we saw their benefits months or years after they came about – you’ve heard me speak at length about these before.  And that’s not even mentioning the work of professionals around the world who continue to do life-saving and life-changing work, even though their feats are not routinely reported as headline news.

The list is long, my friends – and the problems on it are real – and there is an even longer list of people working on good news, even when we don’t hear them.

My friends, we cannot ignore the serious facts and events that come along with the boulder of news we encounter everyday – and we will also do well to remember the knowledge that beneath that boulder, sometimes underground, lies a whole set of good news that make part of our interrelated web.  News that we are part of and may unexpectedly uncover.  News that we can invest our faith in.

My friends, let us engage in this good news.

So may it be,
In hope and faith
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #61 Lo, the Earth Awakes Again
~)-| Words: Samuel Longfellow, 1819-1892, arr.
Music: Lyra Davidica, 1708, version of John Arnold’s Compleat Psalmodist, 1749
Tune EASTER HYMN 7.7.7.7. with Alleluias

UU Society of Grafton and Upton (Grafton MA) (12 April, 2020)

I am a lay chaplain!

In my experience, there is often some confusion around this statement, so this brief explanation may offer some clarity.
Unitarian Universalist congregations in Canada have the unique opportunity to use licensed lay chaplains to perform rites of passage and personalized ceremonies marking milestone life celebrations. Included are weddings, memorials, funerals, child naming ceremonies, house blessings, beginnings and endings in all kinds of evolving life experiences.
The primary reason for the creation of lay chaplains came in a 1970 agreement. Firmly believing that all persons have a “right to their rite”, the Canadian Unitarian Council member congregations/fellowships created lay chaplains to assist extremely busy Unitarian Universalist ministers, thereby ensuring these services were available to the wider community.

The Canadian Unitarian Council of Lay Chaplains helps clients searching for meaningful rites of passage in a relaxed environment, honouring their personal wishes and spiritual beliefs.
It is equally important that attention is paid to attendees of any ceremony, ensuring their comfort while reflecting the values and principles of Unitarians and Universalists.

Working closely with each client, lay chaplains can offer guidance through difficult and sensitive situations where differing beliefs, traditions and religious loyalties may need to be discussed in an accommodating and safe space.

If you have any inquiries or merely wish to chat about lay chaplain services, you are invited to contact:

Sue Markham,
Lay Chaplain for the Unitarian Universalist Church of Olinda @ 226-350-2879.
Email: worthysole4u@hotmail.com

Time for All Ages – Is Soil Alive? – MinuteEarth (27 January, 2022) (3:24)

Want to go deeper?
You can also try delving into this longer discussion:

What is Life? (feat. Prof. Brian Cox) – Be Smart (a PBS channel) (8 April, 2022) (24:30)

Sermon – Grounded – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

The question of life has been around for a long time.  It may well be where religion comes from.  And that goes for the questions of life, and the questions that come with life and all that we ask about life.

Defining life has also been a tricky quest.

There are traditions that see breath as the mark of life, and the difference between the quick and the dead, therefore, is marked by the ability to breathe.

It is perhaps quite appropriate, then, that when scientists study life, one of the ways to consider whether something is alive is respiration – the exchange of gases with its surroundings, such as air and water, interacting with these surroundings, giving and receiving energy.

Indeed, like respiration, the very words for inspiration and spirit are all related to breath, as reflected in one of the creation stories in which God is described as blowing divine breath into the first earthlings – the humans made from the ground.  The Hebrew word that is used in Genesis is ruach, and it can be translated as breath, wind, or spirit.  (There is also a pun between the name of Adam and the word for earth adaMAH)

And so it is that we can consider the earth itself to show signs that are consistent with life.  The ground exchanges gases, including ones containing oxygen and carbon – the very same ones that we exchange!  Soil is composed of similar systems as us, as well as those of pretty much other living organisms.  It can be helpful to consider the earth as a kind of meta-organism of its own.

Earth-based spiritual traditions have carried versions of this wisdom for centuries.  And considering the soil, and even the very planet that it sits on, as a living being, is increasingly in vogue in scientific mindsets as well.

Categorization is a useful tool in both theology and science, as it helps in understanding how those things that are most similar to each other work, and it allows comparison to other things depending on their degree of variability, such as different species (“according to their kinds”).  And… categorization can also be misleading, in that it can artificially separate certain concepts and organisms from their relationship with the larger web of existence.  It is in the edges of these categories that things often get interesting.

Biology is sometimes called the science of exceptions.  And while the way we most often use the label of life can be helpful in understanding certain processes, it is also on the edges of what we call life that we can sometimes see more similarities than expected… where we can see a deeper relationship.

Whether the things that are beyond us, or animals, or plants, or microorganisms, fit into a textbook description of life is an interesting question in itself.  But another interesting thing is that even if – even when – different things don’t fit in all the categories we have assigned for what constitutes living, it is still worthwhile (it is still helpful) to consider the wider systems of the universe as living.

The earth, the oceans, the lakes, the atmosphere, even the social systems among different organisms – each of these can make more sense when we are open to seeing the hidden life in each of them.

And, as inquisitive minds (be it as spiritual seekers, theologians, or scientists), we are invited to explore that hidden life.

The Lenten season is coming to a close, with the impending arrival of Easter, along with its collective pageant of intentionally doing without, doing with less, or paying closer attention to what is essential.  And is it does, we seek to hearken back to finding more life where we might not have seen it before.  To resurrect our commitment to connect with the living spirit and celebrate it.  To invite revelation, especially in unexpected places.

Astrophysicist Carl Sagan observed that all that we consider life today (as well as the things that we don’t) all come from the seed of hydrogen atoms interacting with each other over long times and wide spaces.  Hydrogen atoms, that became heavier elements in the furnaces of stars, throughout their life cycle, who themselves gave birth to other elements, often at their death in supernovae explosions.  All of these eventually interacting with each other to make the ground – and from that ground… us! (and everything around us).  And those hydrogen atoms themselves derive from the primordial source of matter, which is the energy that came from the beginning of the Big Bang.

Now Sagan was often seen as an exemplar agnostic or perhaps atheist, and yet it is difficult to read or hear his many works that contemplate the cosmos without hearing a pronounced mystical voice.  The approach taken by him and many science communicators like him, is that the eternal inquiry about the universe is inevitably conducive to an immense feeling of wonder and awe.

Whether your approach takes the more formal/methodical processes of science or the wider/intuitive approach of an earth-centred tradition, or the oral narrative tradition of a biblical story, the mystical truth that is shared along all these currents is that life is indeed connected, mysterious, and sacred in its shared origins and in its enduring links.

We pursue these questions with different approaches and drawing from many sources.  Whether you find these in biblical texts or other sacred scriptures, in earth-based observances and practices, in YouTube videos that offer appealing visual narratives, in the many forms of meditation and contemplation, or in the act of engaging with the world, these are all spiritual works that invite us to connect with the truths beyond ourselves and to take action for sustaining what sustains us.

It is perhaps an open question whether scientific pursuits might ever “solve” the mysteries of the universe – but they don’t have to.  Because in these pursuits, we continue to find new meanings to what life can do and what life can be.  In this exploration, we continue to find new evidence of what life can look like, and how we are connected to all forms of life around us (and everything in between).

My friends, the knowledge and wisdom, or truths, or stories, or questions, that I’m sharing with you today aren’t all that novel or ground-breaking.  You’ve heard me say versions of that before, and you’ve heard others say versions of that before me.  You have quite likely expressed some aspect of these, or thought something along those lines.  What I am here to do on days like these, is to reprise the invitation to consider all of these again.  To remind us that these questions, observations, meditations, all matter.  They warrant our renewed attention from time to time.  And they invoke deeper exploration as we delve into the everyday living of our lives.

Why?  Because it is easy to forget this interconnected web, and it is easy to overlook it, especially when other difficult stories in the world, and in our lives, draw us away from appreciating it.

My friends, our task as spiritual beings, and as a spiritual community, involves constantly re-committing to enhancing our awareness of these mysteries, and to reconnect to the invitation for us to engage in awe and wonder.  To ground ourselves in the truths that come from remembering the earth that we come from, and the roots it shares with the rest of the universe.

And every once in a while, my friends, pursuing a review of these views, will offer fresh insight.  It will invite a new sense of awe for the amazing power of creation.

So may it be,
In awe and wonder
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #207 Earth Was Given as a Garden
~)-| Words: Roberta Bard, 1940- , © 1992 Roberta Bard Ruby
Music: Rowland Hugh Prichard, 1811-1887
Tune HYFRYDOL

Unitarian Universalists of San Luis Obispo (29 October, 2021)

Hymn #360 Here We Have Gathered
~)-| Words: Alicia S. Carpenter, 1930- , © 1979 Alicia S. Carpenter
Music: Genevan psalter, 1543
Tune OLD 124th

Unitarian Society of Santa Barbara (20 March, 2021)

Meditation – I Don’t Have a Good Title for This Video – Hank Green in vlogbrothers

(1 April, 2022)

Reading – The Errand Friend Hang – Annika Hansteen-Izora

8 June, 2021

In this blogpost, writer Annika Hansteen-Izora considers the meaning and significance of the Errand Hang, the act of having company while tending to everyday tasks.

Read their full reflection on their website:

https://www.annikaizora.com/post/manage-your-blog-from-your-live-site

Sermon – Errand Hang – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

Last month, I showcased the relatively-recent expression FOMO, which stands for the Fear of Missing Out, and speaks to that sense of anxiety that might come about when perceiving that others are doing things, or getting stuff, that we are not – a feeling that has been sharpened by increased exposure to social media, as well as by the obligatory isolation that came with the pandemic.

I also brought along its counterpart, the Joy of Missing Out, indicating the liberating opportunity that comes from letting go of the perceived compulsion to live up to others’ standards, or by willingly doing without those things or activities that are not always essential, something that we’re especially invited to practice during times of spiritual reflection, such as Lent, or Ramadan.

Over the past year, another expression has been making the rounds of the internet – the errand hang.  This came to wide attention after the writer Annika Hansteen-Izora published a blog post in which they outlined what might be involved in an errand hang: seeking company from a friend while attending to everyday tasks.

Now Annika Hansteen-Izora didn’t invent errand hangs – people have been doing this kind of thing for a long time, perhaps as long as there’ve been people, though their prevalence may depend on each individual culture’s norms.  I’m not even sure if Annika coined the phrase “errand hang”, but they certainly popularized it over the past year.

Since then, other popular bloggers have taken to exploring how errand hangs can have significant impacts in people’s lives.  The parenting blog Scary Mommy, suggests that errand hangs can be lifelines for parents who need to get stuff done, but could use the support of friendly company while doing so.

Not only can the company of a friend enhance the focus of the errand, as each companion can offer advice on important purchases, like diapers or bed frames, but this intentional company can also help each other stay accountable to their responsibilities, by making the mundane task special – perhaps even sacred.  This is because, among other things, setting up an errand hang can make certain obligations fun.  And the power of fun cannot be overlooked.  By making a potentially tedious task more appealing, an errand hang encourages its sustained practice.

The opportunity for additional connection can also offer space for healing.  The grief support website What‘s Your Grief observes that errand hangs can be an opportunity to reclaim activities one might have done with a now-deceased loved one, and which may be difficult or painful to do alone, but may be more fulfilling and even newly-enjoyable when carried out with a friend who’s supportive by simply being there.

There’s a related – if perhaps distinct – sentiment in the Academy Award-winning movie Good Will Hunting, starring (among others) Matt Damon, Minnie Driver, and Robin Williams.  The title character Will Hunting (played by Damon) gets asked out on a date by Skylar (played by Driver), a Harvard student at a bar.  As Skylar gives her phone number to Will, she suggests that they could get together for coffee sometime.  Being clever, Will counteroffers that they could also get together and eat a bunch of caramels.  Responding to Skylar’s puzzlement, Will elaborates: “When you think about it, it’s as arbitrary as drinking coffee.”

Despite the smart-alecky nature of Will’s remark, I also think he’s exposing the somewhat necessary fiction that’s often needed for people to get together when they want to see if they like each other enough to pursue a romantic relationship.  Rather than simply say, “let’s see if we like each other”, you set up an event that’s some steps removed from romance or sex: an arbitrary activity – coffee, bowling, apple-picking… eating caramels.  How this turns out will depend on the compatibility that the people involved have with each other, and how their interaction in their chosen situation plays out.  This may or may not result in a developing relationship, which could span from a next date to lifelong commitment, or anything in between.  Whatever the outcome, they at least get to participate on the activity they set out do.

Of course, dates of sorts can also apply for platonic relationships.  Folks will often set dates with friends, just to hang around.  Here at Olinda, we sometimes have dinner dates that span from two to eight people.  It’s a structured way to ensure we get together.

Now, in examining the errand hang, Annika Hansteen-Izora is describing something slightly different than a dinner with friends or with a potential mate.  If you want to get really… academic… about the difference between a pure errand hang and something like the casual date that is anchored over an arbitrary setting like coffee or caramels, then perhaps the distinguishing factor might be that a date setting tends to involve picking an activity that’s slightly out of your way (as a way to find a foundation for folks to pursue a potential romantic interest).  In contrast, an errand hang, as defined by Hansteen-Izora, involves activities that you might already be obligated to do as part of the course of responsible living (or “adulting”, as people closer to my generation might often say).

My own analysis is that both of these settings fall under the larger category of finding excuses to get together.  And I’ve talked about these quite a bit.

I’d argue that church is something akin to an errand hang.  For those of us who view spiritual growth as an essential part of living, then intentionally making for opportunities when we can get together (in whichever way is feasible) is a way to enhance our spiritual practice by inviting greater focus, accountability, and fun to the task of spiritual development.  As much as we value spiritual living, some of the tasks involved can sometimes feel tedious, overwhelming, or uncertain.  Asking friends to carry these out with us is a way to build the discipline we may need, to share the load, and to find guidance along the way.

We do this in many ways.  The most common one might be setting a regular time to get together in some way – a “faith date” – for us that’s usually Sunday.  Some among us might take on additional tasks in the running of the church – errands – for which we deliberately hang around together, in groups like boards, committees, task forces, or study groups.  In these we can find structure with disciplined norms, have focused discussion, build accountable practices, and build community.

Every once in a while, we also make special events, which may seem arbitrary in the grander scheme of things, but which are perfectly viable excuses to get together, such as community meals (when it’s feasible), cooking classes, or other kinds of gatherings.

This coming week, we’ll be participating in our traditional aUUction, in which we tackle what might be the otherwise tedious task of raising money for our community, by making an event out of it, encouraging interaction among our members and participants, adding a bit of friendly rivalry with some bidding, and looking to have fun in putting our contributions together and offering them to each other.

My friends, there are other ways we could get the stuff we might get at the aUUction, and you could take your own initiative in setting up events and get-togethers like the ones that are offered at the aUUction, but marking a time to do that collectively ensures that those options are intentionally offered, rather than simply thought about or considered.  It also makes the task of something we have to do as responsible stewards of our church – raising money – into a fun activity we can look forward to… which can in turn create other fun options to look forward to.

Above all, my friends, it’s an opportunity for community building.  It’s not the only one, but it’s the one that starts as of tomorrow.

My friends, this week, and in the coming months, let us continue to build community together.

So may it be,
In gratitude and conviviality
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #76 For Flowers That Bloom about Our Feet
~)-| Words: Minot Judson Savage, 1841-1918
Music: Cyril V. Taylor, b. 1907, © Hope Publishing Co.
Tune COOLINGE

Jess Huetteman (27 May, 2020)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qShioXzpF2I

Reflection – Ukrainian Customs and Traditions – Dan and Toni Janik

Watch:
(Note: you’ll hear an echo in the first 40 seconds of the recording – this will go away quickly and you’ll be able to hear Dan more clearly within the first minute!)

Read: [Printable PDF available for download]

Taking Action – Meaningful Ways to Support Ukraine – Canadian Unitarian Council

The Canadian Unitarian Council has compiled a list of organizations and options if you wish to contribute to humanitarian efforts and refugee support.

You can find the complete list through this portal on the CUC website:

Meaningful Ways to Support Ukraine (Canadian Unitarian Council)

#318 We Would Be One
~)-| Words: Samuel Anthony Wright, 1919-
Music: Jean Sibelius, 1865-1957, arr. from The Hymnal, 1933, © 1933, renewed 1961 Presbyterian Board of Christian Education
Tune FINLANDIA

Kitsap Unitarian Universalist Fellowship
Brian Kenny (piano), Alena Hemingway (vocals), Mike Menefee (10 May, 2021)

Click here and enjoy!

Click here and enjoy!

Time for All Ages – Meditation and Song – Lea Morris and Rev. Amanda Poppei

LISTEN HERE: Hope Springs Eternal (with Amanda Poppei) (13 March, 2022)

Sermon – Half Full – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF available for download]

And although we’re not quite halfway through Lent, already the Easter spirit of resurrection is in the air – in starts and stops – with cold and warm weather alternating, as well as wet and sunnier days.

Starts and stops have been a hallmark of the past while… today, we were able have some folks in our sanctuary, and while it wasn’t exactly half full, it was near the fullest it’s been in two years, and what we did today gives us a sense of what it can be like to be halfway toward a fuller in-person presence, even as we keep other platforms available. 

You’ve heard me say some version of this before – we’ve had partial attendance before… and we’ve seen the need to walk it back.  Nonetheless, it is significant that we had some more people attending in-person today – it has been almost precisely two years since we last held our last fully in-person-only Sunday service: more than two full cycles of 52 weeks… in fact 105 Sundays.

Last week would have been the 2^nd anniversary since we last gathered together exclusively in-person.  Today is the 2^nd anniversary since that was no longer an option.

We mark this time.

We mark the time to honour where we are – and to contemplate how we feel about it.  To become aware of the mixed emotions that come with budding optimism, as well as accumulated sadness and grief.  To recognize the sacredness of this moment and of those past moments.

As of this month, the confirmed worldwide death toll for Covid-19 has now exceeded 6 million.  And to some of you, that figure may hold a rather chilling significance.

In our own church community, we have seen the direct effects of the pandemic, including some among us who have been infected – most of you have recovered, to various degrees… and we also acknowledge that we’ll no longer see at least one of our members, who has died from the disease.

Many others among us will have also lost loved ones, perhaps due to other reasons, and it has sometimes been difficult or impossible to be by their side during those hard times, or to honour their memory in the way we’d hope, or at the time we’d hope, or in the presence of those we’d hope could be with us.

These are real losses, and real sources of pain and sorrow.  We honour them, as we mark this time.

Without forgetting the hardships… in fact, in conscious recognition of the hardships, marking the time invites us to take stock.

Taking stock is also part of Lenten practices.  Last week I invoked a “review” of some of these, which often include some kind of fasting – sometimes literal, but perhaps more often, it’s fasting in a broader sense of rehearsing what it’s like to do without, or to be with less of something.  One way that a Lenten observance – or many other traditions that include a fasting practice – make this a tool for spiritual growth, is in that a fast invites perspective into what is beyond the self.

A very practical example might be gaining some insight into what it’s like for people who involuntarily do without food, or who cannot afford to get certain luxuries, or perhaps certain delights that we might be used to, but have temporarily decided to do without.  In this way, a practice of doing without can help us better relate to the needs of others, and in this way develop deeper compassion.

It might also be a way for us to personally explore what else we have been missing.  If a glass is half full with water, it might be an opportunity to remember that we also need air.

Perhaps giving up a certain food might open up space for other sources of nourishment we haven’t reached for in a long time, which are better for us, and which we might well enjoy.  This could mean different, healthier, tasty foods, or it could be other sources of comfort that we might now remember to cultivate, including activities, places… and people.

And perhaps the money saved by abstaining from a certain frivolous purchase may find a home in something more fulfilling in our lives – or in the lives of others.

Last week, I shared that the time saved by staying off of social media has often meant that I have more time than I realized for things that are more fulfilling than “doomscrolling” through other people’s feeds.  And sometimes these practices pay off, and become well-rehearsed habits.

A common theme in all these examples is an increased awareness of self and others.  A clearer sense of what’s important for ourselves individually and for our communities collectively, small and large.

Every once in a while, you’ll hear a clever remark from someone who proclaims that they’ve “given up giving things up” or that they “gave up Lent for Lent”.  These may be cute self-referential wisecracks, but I think that this approach may also be on to something.

It could be that sometimes we may feel worn too thin for doing without even more.  The last two years have been a kind of extended Lent in many ways, and maybe we could do a bit less with doing without.  To be sure, doing without certain ways of congregating has increased our awareness that there are other ways of doing church, not to mention that it has been a reminder that there have always been members of our community who cannot do church the way many of us are used to doing it.  And now we’ve taken a practice of enhancing how more of us can access opportunities for worship.

And in taking stock we’ve also confirmed that having opportunities for in-person gathering is also something that we cannot discard altogether.  Many of us sorely miss it, insofar as it is feasible, and there are parts of our community life that simply aren’t the same without the in-person element.

Perhaps we can also abstain from abstaining, when we already realize that we need more of something important in our lives.  Maybe we feel the need to “take up” something for Lent, or for the upcoming season.  I’ve done that myself on a few occasions, realizing I could do with a healthier habit, where rather than do less of something, I already see that there is something I’ve found to be lacking in my life, and which I could do with more of, for the sake of myself and others.

Perhaps this might be a time to remember the intentions that came around New Year’s Eve and give it another go if this year’s theme hasn’t quite taken hold – because personal growth and spiritual development takes practice, and it often takes more than one try.

If New Year’s Day has come and gone, and you missed the beginning of Lent to enhance your spiritual practice, then spring is another time that reminds us that renewal is always possible.  These opportunities are always there, as long as we remember to mark them and remark on them.

My friends, in this halfway time, we mark the time, to take stock and renew efforts for regrowth.  As the buds in the trees and the grass on the ground make tentative efforts to bloom out and sprout up, these agents of nature can also be our cloud of witnesses, accomplices with us, as we seek the brightening daylight.

And maybe, my friends, this might be the time to take the cue from nature, to simply take the time to observe it.  This can be as simple as looking out the window more often, to remember to lift the blinds (physical and metaphorical).  If we are able to, perhaps step outside more than we’re used to, and reconnect with the world that is out there.  Perhaps it’s the time to start something new.

We may be halfway there, my friends, and that half may well be plentiful.

So may it be,
In optimism, in grief, and in gratitude
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Hymn #74 On the Dusty Earth Drum
Words: Joseph S. Cotter, Jr., 1895-1919
Music: Friedrich Filitz, 1804-1860
Tune WEM IN LEIDENSTAGEN

Brian Kenny (Piano), Amanda Hemingway and Mike Menefee (Voices)
Mike Menefee (27 August, 2020)

Time for All Ages – Hymn with Reflection and Questions – Lea Morris

VIEW from the MOON – STJ #1026 If Every [Person] in the World
Lea Morris – thisisLEA (11 March, 2022)

Sermon – The Joy of Missing Out – Rev. Rod

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There’s a phrase that’s been making the rounds over the past two or three decades, which sums up the sense of anxiety that comes when we have the impression that we’re not keeping up with others – the fear of missing out.  This is often shortened with a fashionable acronym (a word made of the beginning of other words): FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out).  Although it may sound like another word that is sometimes used as a slur, FOMO is rather used to express that sense of loss, sadness, and lack of fulfillment that comes when we think that others are having it better, or getting to have fun that we’re not having.

To be sure, the basics for FOMO aren’t all that new.  The adage “keeping up with the Joneses” betrays a similar sentiment.  But FOMO is often used to illustrate a stronger and more pervasive version of that feeling, especially one that has been amplified by the easier access we have to information, and particularly social media.

Now that many people have taken up the habit of documenting many parts of their lives – and advertising them by sharing them on their social media – it has become common to feel like we’re passive observers in what seem to be the amazing lives of others.  Not only is everyone’s lawn much greener, but so are their salads… their desserts are sweeter and fancier, their coffees frothier, their pets funnier, and their vacations more exotic.

Of course, that is only our perception of others, since many of those amazing parts of their lives tend to be but mere snippets of more regular lives, which are carefully curated to project a certain image.  Not only that, the fact that so many people do this, also means that we’re liable to be getting dozens, if not hundreds, of these constructed lives in short amounts of time, maybe within the same day.

Part of the issue is, in fact, the reality that the possibility of being part of so many things has never felt so easy.  Getting to know about exciting events, and about things we could get, or be part of, is just a click or notice away.  The very fact that we can get to more stuff, and get more stuff, is a constant reminder that we’re not doing or getting that stuff.

This has been a real observed phenomenon, particularly among the younger generations, and it has often been tied to higher rates of anxiety and depression, as getting massive doses of perfectly manicured lives can give the impression that our lives simply don’t live up to those of others, and we risk fearing that we’re missing out on something that everyone else is having, or getting to do.  Somehow, this may give the impression that we are not enough.

Of course, the bulk of this is an illusion, but it is hard to fight that sense that our lives somehow don’t measure up.

There is a better way.

What if, instead of focusing on those things we think we’re missing out on, we can cultivate a practice of intentionally missing out?

As I’ve already mentioned, the basics of this sense of having gaps between our lives and those of others is not that new, even though our current technology may make that gap feel even bigger.

And there have also been spiritual practices that invite us to grow in our sense of self and community by intentionally giving up some of the very things that we think we want more of.

Many faith traditions have some kind of practice that includes fasting.  This has typically been done by giving up certain foods, or giving food up at certain times (although this practice can be tricky for folks who have eating disorders or a complicated relationship with food).  But the concept can be extended beyond food, to giving up other things, or reducing our reliance on some material things, or maybe even taking up practices that centre our needs less to focus on others – and our relationship with them.

Some of us have looked into Muslim practices, which include fasting during the month of Ramadan.  Among other things, this practice invites contemplation about what we really need, as well as compassion for those who have less, by voluntarily sharing in part of the experience of doing without.  Almsgiving is also part of the Muslim practice, by sharing one’s wealth among the community through acts of charity.

Closer to our heritage, we’re now a couple weeks into the Lenten season that comes before Easter.  And some form of fasting has been part of observing Lent for a long time.  This can be seen as a re-enactment, a communal pageant, of the fasting that Jesus is said to have taken for forty days shortly before his death.

You might know that a Lenten fast has been done in different ways through history.  In Roman Catholicism, this has included giving up meat on Fridays, which is why fish might be a bit more popular around this time of year.

Many others extend the practice to giving something up… it is sometimes fashionable for chocolate to be one of those things, but many of us might choose something else to give up, or at least reduce, like a habit we’ve identified as being an issue in our lives.

I myself have previously given up social media for Lent, on more than one occasion.  As can be the case, a habit might come back in full force after the time of fasting, and that has sometimes been true for me with me with my social media fast.  But even then, having taken up that practice, at least for some time, has taught me something about myself and my relationships with others.  The practice has, indeed, become a rehearsal, an enactment of a “what if?” that has given me some real-life experience of what my life would look like if that fast became a more regular part of my routine.

Among the lessons learned is that I am usually happier when I do less social media.  Taking up the practice, even when temporarily, has offered me a glimpse of the realities that a different way of living can bring.  And it has increased my awareness that too much social media can be hazardous to my health.

And indeed, after a few trial-runs of the sort, I’ve noticed that, while I was never a particularly heavy user of social media, I now do it much less than in other years, even during “ordinary time”, sometimes going days or weeks without feeling the need to check the latest buzz or notices.

This doesn’t mean that we need to give these things up altogether.  In my case, I make use of social media for some ministry-related work, as well as some social connection, but it’s now a more balanced part of my life.  There is lower risk of FOMO, and there is a higher quotient of JOMO – the Joy of Missing Out.  Because sometimes the act of giving up also gives more of other things.  In my case, it’s been clarity as well as time – spending less time on one thing, allows for more time on other, perhaps more fulfilling things.

The author and journalist Oliver Burkeman, has recently written the book called Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals.  The number four thousand may seem big in some contexts, but in this case, it refers to how many weeks are in the average human lifespan, which suddenly doesn’t sound like all that much.  In that scarcity, Burkeman finds the affirmation that, with limited time, we may feel the freedom to give up on taking on too much, to give up on the idea that we need to do it all, which was an impossible task to begin with (for those of us who are mortal).  And when we give up some things, we may find that we end up having more of other things.

For instance, Burkeman contemplates the difference between having a to do list and a done list.  Now, a to do list is a very useful tool – I use one myself – as it helps in keeping track of tasks.  And some of those tasks may be vital to doing what is important to us and those around us: work that brings in a salary, and which we may also find fulfilling; taking care of our homes and our families; taking care of ourselves – all of these are the real important things.

And a to do list may remain useful as long as we remember to give up on doing everything that we could possibly add to that list.  Burkeman suggests a done list – things which we didn’t have to do (or were given the impression that we should do them) and rather things that we’ve taken up doing for our sake and the sake of those around us.

My friends, some of you may have already taken up a version of that practice, such as a diary or journal – that is a done list that allows us to witness to the life we have taken on.  Another way to look at it is as a practice of gratitude – celebrating the reality of our lives as they are, rather than maintaining an illusion of overly-ambitious lives that cannot be and which we fear missing out on.

Burkeman notes that this kind of practice helps remind us that we are enough, and there is no need to constantly justify our existence.

My friends, the Lenten practice of taking up more of life by giving up on the illusion of living up to other impossible lives, is a liberating spiritual tradition.  It is an opportunity to train ourselves in enhancing our awareness of what matters most, by foregoing the more superfluous trappings of things we need less of.

My friends, the joy of missing out involves celebrating the love that is more powerful than the fear of missing out.

So may it be,
In gratitude and joy
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Opening Hymn #16 ‘Tis a Gift to Be Simple
Words: Joseph Bracket, 18^th cent.
Music: American Shaker tune
Tune SIMPLE GIFTS

Saint Andrews Episcopal Church, Seattle (22 July, 2020)

#159 This Is My Song
Words: Lloyd Stone, 1912- © 1934, 1962 Lorenz Publishing Co.
Music: Jean Sibelius, 1865-1957, arr. © 1933, renewed 1961 Presbyterian Board of Christian Education
Tune FINLANDIA

Cathedral of St. John the Divine (28 September, 2020)

Sermon – Black Belt for Beginners – Rev. Rod

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One of the first activities I shared with my dad was attending a dojo – a place of learning for martial arts.  His art of choice is aikido, which can be translated as “the way of harmony”, though you may be more familiar with other arts, such as karate do “the way of the empty hand” and judo “the gentle way” or many others, like kung fu, jiujitsu, or taekwondo.

I remember that my dad had a black belt and I was quite impressed and proud about it.  I would sometimes boast to my schoolmates that my dad was a black belt, trying to make myself feel special.  This would not last, as the response would often be something like: “I guess he could kick all our butts then, huh?”

It was at that point that I’d have to awkwardly explain that aikido didn’t really have kicks, and punches weren’t really central to its techniques either.  Aikido is almost exclusively a defensive art, focusing on redirecting aggression so that it becomes harmless to yourself and to the aggressor.  I quickly learned that bragging about my dad’s “rank” wasn’t all that fulfilling.

When we moved to Canada, we continued the practice and found another dojo for aikido.  I was surprised to see my dad wear a white belt, just like me, as we started out.  “Aren’t you already a black belt?” I asked him.

He explained that this new dojo was in a different style tradition, and he therefore considered himself as much a beginner as me, and any of the other new folks.  I remember feeling somewhat let down, feeling like he had been unfairly “demoted”, though I also admired what seemed to be a wise sense of humility that he was projecting.

While I expressed my dissatisfaction at his “demotion”, he further explained that the belt’s colour wasn’t all that important… it has significance for sure, and those who wear black belts deserve a measure of respect – or at least caution – but the real purpose of attending the dojo was to learn and practice… the colour changes in the belt are nice side effects of that process.

I never quite got as far as black belt at my dojo… I took on other interests and initiatives as I started high school, and a change in management at the dojo also prompted me to pursue something else.  But I took to heart the approach my dad handed down to me.

And I also learned that a black belt isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  In movies and pop culture, a black belt is often depicted as a master with lethal expertise, but my dad let on that the black belt he held was a rather junior rank (not to mention that he wasn’t interested in lethal expertise).  It turns out that, once you’ve gone through all the colours, there are additional “secret” levels after you get the black belt.  Getting that black belt just puts you in what is called the shodan, which can be translated as the “beginner step” or “first degree”.  There can be several of these degrees or dans, and instructors might only begin teaching after getting to the third dan or higher.

Indeed, the black belt can be seen as a mere witness to basic competence in the art, its techniques, and the process of learning it.  The whole progression leading to the black belt is simply the journey toward learning how to learn the art.

Each of you will have gone through some process of learning in whatever it is you do, be it an apprenticeship with a mentor or senior family member, a certification, maybe a diploma or degree, perhaps navigating promotion opportunities at work, or learning what it means to be in church and do church with others as part of individual and communal spiritual development.  And going through each of those steps is really just a transition into a new level of expertise that requires further learning and refinement.

Last month, I mentioned that I attended a weeklong event of intensive professional development for ministers.  This event used to be called The Institute for the Learned Ministry, but the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association has adopted a philosophy that more closely mirrors the reality of black belts in martial arts, recognizing that learning is ongoing, so the event has changed its name to the Institute for the Learning Ministry.

In fact, the ministerial formation process has a few parallels to this approach.  In our tradition, ordination is often seen as a kind of gold standard of ministerial expertise – the “black belt” of ministry (or perhaps the white collar, as is sometimes the case).  But it turns out there are additional “secret” levels of expertise that we must fulfill, even after we have the cred to start wearing clerical collars.

Some of you are aware that newer ordained ministers are often in what is called preliminary fellowship… this is the shodan of professional ministry – the beginning step that witnesses to a certain proficiency in learning how to learn the intricacies of ministry, and it requires additional work, along with evaluation by our credentialling body – some of you have been involved in that part of my credentialling process.

After three evaluations, we might be bestowed what used to be called final fellowship.  But again, our credentialing colleagues realized that this title gives the wrong impression that learning is somehow complete – that title that I was given is now called full fellowship (not final) … a kind of third dan, that acknowledges a further degree of competence, including the ability to teach and supervise student ministers.  But the work of professional development isn’t done.  There is still a lot to learn (though I now have a better idea of how I might go about doing that learning).

One of the key aspects of doing that learning includes an openness to making mistakes, and taking them as opportunities for learning.  You may have seen the latest online trend of filling out the daily word game Wordle, or other similar games, which involve guessing a word with a limited number of attempts (six tries in the case of the game Wordle).  You may have observed that even making a “wrong” guess has value – as knowing which options were “incorrect” gives a lot of information that can help in guessing the secret word.  Even the “mistakes” can lead you to your objective… if you know how to look at them… if you learn how to look at them and use them to your advantage.

Of course, there are different kind of mistakes, and some are more severe than others.  There are situations in which a mistake can be especially damaging, and not everyone can afford the luxury of making certain mistakes.  Nonetheless, recognizing the inevitability that we will trip up, and finding ways to increase the likelihood of gracefully recovering when tripping up, is a valuable tool and approach that can make life’s challenges less hazardous – maybe even fulfilling.

In fact, one of the first things you learn in aikido is the expectation that you will fall.  A fundamental technique for beginners does not even involve engaging with an opponent, but practicing falling and breaking that fall.  Breakfalls are a set of somersaults that allow you to fall gracefully, minimizing risks of harm and inviting recovery.  And you don’t need a black belt to do them well.

My friends, you’ve heard me preach some version of this sermon before.  And I’ve done this quite deliberately, because practice requires revisiting important basics several times.

We have talked about how being willing to make mistakes when learning a new language is part of the key to mastering that language.  Together, we have lived the realities of re-learning how to do church in a setting we had barely imagined, along with the tech challenges, which can sometimes be awkward, sometimes humorous, sometimes outright frustrating, and also ongoing.  And still we have become the better for it, as we have approached a black belt in doing multi-platform church… which leaves a lot of room for further degrees of development as we continue to practice it.

And practice, my friends, is part of that process.  Whether you repeat a martial arts technique several times in a class, over many years; or rehearse a musical piece on an instrument; or go over our principles or any other of our covenants and figure out how to apply them to your lives and your relationships with others; spiritual growth and development calls for ongoing practice, including the moments when we fall short, which invite us to accept new lessons and take that learning into the next level.

My friends, many communities of faith in the Christian tradition, which is part of our heritage, are currently following a practice of reflection and deeper spiritual contemplation, which may involve forms of fasting, in this Lenten season that began last Wednesday and which eventually leads into Easter.  We can delve more deeply into that particular practice next week, but today I leave you with the reminder that any spiritual practice involves ongoing work and ongoing learning; it involves failing, many times; and it involves an ongoing call into greater awareness.

My friends, may we be open to failing, learning, and deeper awareness, as we take one more step.

So may it be,
In ongoing practice
Amen

Copyright © 2022 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

#128 For All That Is Our Life
~)-| Words: Bruce Findlow, 1922-
Music: Patrick L. Rickey, 1964- , © 1992 UUA
Tune SHERMAN ISLAND

Rev. Christopher Watkins Lamb
Foothills Unitarian Church (9 August, 2020)