Boxing Day Carol – Good King Wenceslas
Words: Jason Mason Neale & Thomas Helmore
Music: 13^th Century Spring Carol
Tune TEMPUS ADEST FLORIDUM 7.6.7.6

“Good King Wenceslas”
Kathy Wert – Piano; Sarah Wert – Alto; Rod E.S.Q. – Tenor
Unitarian Universalist Church of Olinda (26 December, 2021)

Sermon – Winter Fuel – Rev. Rod

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Read: [Printable PDF available]

The song Good King Wenceslas is one of the few Boxing Day carols in common usage (though there are a few other traditional songs for Boxing Day, that are better known in different regions).  Upon first hearing, the “plot” of the carol might be a bit tricky to follow, but the gist of it is that a princely figure – Wenceslas – spots a poor man who is gathering winter fuel – firewood.  Wenceslas asks his page about the man, and is told where the man lives, and the two of them set off to offer the man a hearty meal and firewood to help him through the winter.

The trek to the man’s dwelling was difficult in the bitter winter cold, and the page that came with Wenceslas was daunted by it.  Wenceslas encouraged his page to literally follow in his footsteps in the snow, to minimize the cold’s bite while walking.  Following Wenceslas’ leadership, they offer a blessing to someone else, which in turn enriches the life of all who offer from what they have to give.

Like many of the stories of this season, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish factual detail from legendary narrative.  Wenceslas was a duke in Bohemia, rather than a king, though there are accounts of his charitable kindness.  The specific tale described in the song, may or may not have happened, and if something like it did transpire, there is no way of knowing whether it was on December 26^th, which is the feast of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr – the casual reference to the feast of Stephen meant it could be sung as a hymn in church on that day of observance.

Yet, it is fitting that the story of an act of charity is recounted on Boxing Day, which has included traditions of alms-giving and charity.  In the British tradition, there are times when money boxes were set aside for people in need.  The specific practices shifted over the years, and at some other points in time, there have been customs of knocking on the doors of wealthier folks, and asking for donations for one’s personal money box.  More recently, we see elements of this practice in Christmas bonuses that are sometimes offered to employees, as well as in practices of extra giving around this time of year.

One lingering aspect of the Boxing Day holiday that we still see to this day, right here in Canada, is the fact that Boxing Day is a statutory holiday, in addition to the Christmas Day stat holiday.  This reflects the commonwealth recognition that many workers are required to work on Christmas, by the very nature of their work.  Boxing Day offers a kind of “deferred”, or extended, Christmas when folks can be ensured a holiday to spend with family or friends, and to take some well-deserved rest – to regather winter fuel in the wake of such a busy season.

I should mention that there are a few other traditions related to Boxing Day.  Some continue to have currency in certain regions, while others have fallen out of fashion.  In several countries, it’s still often a day dedicated to watching sports – and I imagine a few of you indulge in this tradition… even if it’s not strictly as a Boxing Day observance.

In the United Kingdom, killing a wren was considered unlucky, unless it was done on Dec. 26, so wren hunts were a part of Boxing Day.  And while this is no longer a mainstay, a few of the other specific Boxing Day carols I could find were related to the wren’s predicament.  Similarly, fox hunting has been a popular sport on this day, though this has also been regulated away.

Of course, in Canada, Boxing Day has become synonymous with big retail savings.  This can have a few meanings, in that it’s an opportunity to even out the bank account, even if money boxes or bonuses weren’t a part of the equation… though it also comes with a risk of glorifying excessive consumerism.  There are different ways of refueling, and sometimes getting a good bargain that sets us up for the new year can go a long way, like a pair of new boots or an affordable new jacket, to keep us warm into the winter.  (A lot of my must-need wardrobe has historically been financed by Boxing Week.)

And being “in need” might mean many different things in our community.  It might mean having limited money, or limited food, or limited ability to have a reliable place in which to stay warm.  Beyond physical and immediate needs, it may also mean being short on time, energy, company, and other opportunities to connect more deeply – with others and with oneself.  It may mean feeling the need to look after our health and wellbeing – physical and mental.

Each of us will have different abilities to offer specific kinds of blessings to our neighbours.  And each of us will also find times when we are in particular kinds of need, when we’re in a place that we might do well to accept an offering to us, and perhaps even ask for the means to help us fulfill some of our most urgent needs.

Some charitable causes – supported by those among us who are able to do so – are sometimes labelled “band-aid” solutions: that is to say, short-term remedies that address immediate needs… needs that are often due to larger systemic issues.  This does not make these causes less important – relief for immediate needs can make a big difference in someone’s life now, be it our neighbour’s life or our own.  And contributing to short-term respite to ongoing challenges does not mean that we can’t also work to address larger systemic problems – the kind of work that often takes much more time… sometimes multiple lifetimes.  We can each do our parts, as we are able, at different times.

My friends, there is still a winter ahead of us, with a number of challenges still to face, and with opportunities to work together and in our own ways.

My friends, may we take time now, as our season continues, and gather up our winter fuel. 

My friends, may we find blessings in offering those blessings that we are able to offer.

So may it be,

In the spirit of the season,
Amen

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #235 Deck the Hall with Boughs of Holly
Words: Traditional Welsh
Music: Old Welsh Carol
Tune YULE Irregular

Unitarian Universalists San Luis Obispo (25 December, 2020)

#237 The First Nowell
Words: English carol
Music: William Sandys’s Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern, 1833,
harmony by John Stainer, 1840-1901
Tune THE FIRST NOWELL

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Huntington, posted by Jie Yi (23 December, 2020)

Homily – Many First Noëls – Rev. Rod

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Read: [Printable PDF document]

As the story has been handed down to us, the First Noël – the first Christmas – was a very unexpected event… it just didn’t go as planned.  There were some tedious travel arrangements related to bureaucracy; the accommodations were… not as expected; it looks like there were some surprise guests; and there were ongoing hazards that kept folks anxious.  On the plus side, it looked like there was some gift exchange, and people still took time to look out into the night sky in awe.

And, in any case, it did rather make for a good story – we’re still telling it about two thousand years later!

We’ve all had Christmases that didn’t go as expected, with last-minute travel plans – or travel cancelations; accommodation situations that were sparse or improvised; surprise guests or surprise no-shows; unexpected hazards; gifts that were not what we expected; or that weren’t received the way we’d hope.

Each of these will have been the first Noëls of their kind.  When Christmas went differently than what had been the accepted or expected tradition.  Some of these will have been one-of-a-kind events, though occasionally, some of these traditions will have kept on afterward.

Hundreds of years ago, there was a first Noël to be celebrated on December 25, after decades of debate on the date (the original story was vague on that kind of detail).  At some point, there was a first Noël that included Yule traditions, with tree and ornaments.  Then came first Noëls with roast birds and side dishes that for many have become de rigueur, even if it hadn’t been tradition before.  Just over 100 years ago, in the fields of France, Belgium, and Germany, soldiers had a first Noël singing carols and playing soccer with mortal enemies, over no-man’s land, having an unexpectedly silent night under the stars of the European sky.

Many of you will have had a first Noël that became what Christmas was supposed to be like, a first Noël with particular music, stories, or other rituals that tell you that Christmas has happened.  And later, other first Noëls came around that were different… not quite what you expected.

Some of these may have been welcome surprises… and others may have been awful disappointments at the time, perhaps even traumatic.

Perhaps after some time has passed, some of these unexpected Christmases might have become must-tell stories among family and friends, congenially recalling past events with a hint of embarrassment, but more than a balance of fondness for the shared experience.  Others may remain stories full of regret.

This year, it is quite likely that Christmas was not quite what was planned.  Last year was our first Noël without the use of our building in over 100 years.  This year was our first Noël with… mixed accommodations.  And the Noël via videophone has now become a bit of an annual tradition… at least for now.  We have faith that there will be an upcoming first Noël where the videophone will be a welcome option only, rather than a requirement.

Some of these may become stories of regret, and some may even be fond memories.  What remains for sure, is that we continue to offer the best of ourselves to each other, whatever gifts we have to offer one another, receiving whatever gifts others have to offer us, and spending time with each other – however we may be present – amid a starry night.

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

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

#238 Within the Shining of a Star
~)-| Words: Robert S. Lehman, 1913-
~)-| Music: Betsy Jo Angebranndt, 1931- , © 1992 Unitarian Universalist Association
Tune CHRISTMAS HYMN

Posted by Shannon Warto, with Lucy Faridany on Piano, Camellia Latta on Flute (9 January, 2021)

Olivia Brezeanu
The Windsor Women Working with Immigrant Women

Hymn #1051 We Are…

~)-| Words & music: Ysaÿe M. Barnwell, 1946- , © 1991 Barnwell’s Notes Publishing (BMI).  Used by permission.

Annual Dinner 2021 – Dr. Ysaÿe Barnwell Performs “We Are”
Bishop John T. Walker School for Boys (2 March, 2021)

Time For All Ages – Folding Stars

Optional Activity – folding a five-point star

Origami: Five Pointed Star 2.0 – Instructions in English (BR)
Easy Origami (5 November, 2016)

Sermon – How Do You Draw Your Stars? – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF]

I once shared an intensive months-long training with a peer group, and as our time of learning and working together was drawing to a close, we decided to plan how we would mark the occasion.  We knew we’d like some sort of celebration – in some style.

In addition to a get-together outside of the work and learning environment, we decided we needed some outdoor activities.  And, in a planning conversation, we floated the idea of having a piñata.  One of the peers, who happened to be into crafts, offered to make the piñata himself, and he wanted to make it as traditional as possible.  Since he knew about my heritage, he asked me what the most traditional shape might be.

Now, it’s important to note that it’s quite common in Mexico for piñatas to be of just about any shape that might appeal to any personal taste.  They range from animal shapes, to superheroes, to cartoon characters.  A simple walk through any store or market that caters to parties will have anything from the Little Mermaid, to Spiderman, to SpongeBob Square-pants, and even individual cars, from the movie Cars.

But a traditional motif, especially around the Christmas season, what might be called a “star of Bethlehem” – these are very popular during the posadas that happen around this time of year.  So, in response to my peer’s question, I answered that a “star-shape” would offer that traditional vibe that he was looking for.

Now, when I say “star-shape”, I was imagining the rather ornate three-dimensional “stars” that are typically made with a round base – either a clay pot, or a papier-mâché globe – and peaks made with cardboard cones, each one richly decorated in coloured paper and foil, as well as streaming tassels at the end of each point.  Once I had offered this counsel, I quickly forgot about the conversation, as our end-of-program celebration was still a while away.

When the celebration finally came around, my peer proudly brought out his handmade piñata… it was a flat five-pointed star, just thick enough to contain a respectable amount of candies and goodies.  I was intrigued by the design, and asked him what had inspired him to choose that particular shape.  My peer looked surprised… “Why, Rod – it’s what you suggested!”

It was my turn to be surprised – I had no recollection of recommending that shape.  To be clear, this design would be perfectly appropriate in any birthday party or celebration – I simply could not imagine having suggested that particular figure… “I did?” I asked, “When did I do that?”

“I asked you what shape is traditional,” he reminded me, “and you said ‘star’… so I made a star”.

My memory came back – yes, I had said “star”!  And that’s exactly what he crafted.  It just never occurred to me that he would conceive of a star-shaped piñata that looked like… that kind of star.  I had been so used to the ornate Mexican star-of-Bethlehem patterns, that a flat five-point star had never entered my imagination as an example of a “star”-shaped piñata!  And yet, his interpretation of my instruction was a perfectly reasonable rendering of what I had recommended.

Our celebration went along fine.  We hung up the piñata, we wacked the piñata, we cracked piñata, we collected as many candies as we could, and then hung out, happy that our learning work had been completed.

But I was struck by how divergent our own understandings of the same concept had been.  I was also surprised by how certain I had been of my own clarity in my instructions, and how I had never anticipated these same instructions to be interpreted in such an unexpected way.  It was a perfectly fine result – just… different from what I had envisioned.

As many of us begin decorating our spaces with holiday imagery, the star motif takes hold around our homes, our media, and the stores that offer a variety of decorating options.  And surely enough, the stars on offer are quite diverse – the differences among them range from the number of points, to the colours, materials, sizes, and where they belong on our spaces.  Some are flat, and some take up more space.  Some are soft, and some are… riskier to handle.  And of course, there are always the real stars in the sky, which seldom look the way we represent them, and would be… impractical to reproduce with the same materials in our decorations (being that household hydrogen is hard to come by, and much more difficult to fuse into helium at home)!

And even when we agree on the kind of star we’re talking about – say, a flat, five-point star – it is quite possible to see many ranges of diversity in them.  They could be drawn, painted, cut-out, folded in origami, textured, or glittery.  And even if we’re specifically talking about drawing these stars, each of us can bring a level of diversity to it.

If you think you already know someone really well, and are wondering what else you could possibly learn about them, you might ask them: “How do you draw your stars?”  You might be surprised.  Chances are that, when you draw a five-point star, you’ve gotten used to starting at a particular point… but maybe the people you thought you knew use a different starting point!

Some people might start at the top point, while others use the bottom left, the bottom right, or maybe one of the two “arms” at the sides.  We are so used to doing it our way, that it might not have crossed our minds that people we know may do it in an entirely different way.

And so it is with this holiday season.  Each of us will have an idea of what we expect at this time of year, with traditions that let us know that the holidays have “happened”.  For some of us, the holidays mean Christmas, along with a specific set of stories, music, food, decorations, and people we hope to see.  Among us, there are folks for whom the holy day and holy night that come with the winter solstice might be what the holidays are really about.  Some among us or near us might have recently celebrated Channukkah for eight days.  For others, the holiday time might be about cozying up during long winter nights, or maybe picking up extra shifts and even getting paid time-and-a-half for working on days that other people are able to take off from work.  All these realities can coexist.

For some folks among us, the holidays can be difficult.  They may be lonely times, or stressful times, or involve interacting with more people than is comfortable, or with whom things may be… complicated.  These can be times when celebration comes along with extra work, or with extra expenses that we may not be prepared for.  These realties can coexist.

Very often, the joys and sorrows of the holidays can converge, being both the best and the most difficult times of the year.  These realities can coexist.

My friends, at this time of the year, we are called to honour a diversity of holiday experiences.  To be better able to see what that experience means to each of us, and those next to us.

My friends, may we get to know what these experiences are in our diverse communities.

My friends, may we be able to see how our neighbours draw their stars.

So may it be,
In Solidarity and faith,
Amen

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #1059 May Your Life Be As Song

~)-| Words: Jim Scott, 1946 –
Music: Yuri Zaritsky

Julia Stubbs (17 September, 2020)

Opening Hymn #226 People, Look East
Words: Eleanor Farjeon, 1881-1965, used by perm. of David Higham Assoc. Ltd.
Music: Traditional French carol, harmony by Martin Shaw, 1875-1958, used by perm. of Oxford University Press
Tune BESANCON

Alena Hemmingway and Mike Menefee, Kitsap UU Fellowship (17 December, 2020)

Sermon – Reconciling With Indiana Jones – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available]

In the season of advent, we sometimes look forward – to the past.  Christmastide is often a time to hear familiar stories, seeking out our fix of nostalgia, partly as tradition, and partly as longing for times we remember fondly.  It’s also an opportunity to see familiar stories in new ways.

And adventure is a theme in many stories from my childhood, particularly movies – the kind that I seek out every once in a while, as sources of comfort… reminders of a simpler time, with familiar narratives and characters, as well as musical scores and scenery that capture the time when they were made.

I imagine each of you have some version of a comfort film or show that you would gladly watch again, even though you’ve seen it dozens of times and already know exactly how it’s going to turn out.

For my particular age demographic, these often include classic films from the eighties… and occasionally the nineties.  With epic musical scores and iconic imagery that I relate to in a way that is simply impossible for me to replicate with today’s hero flicks.

Now, it is rare to find a film that is “perfect” all the way through, or which has stayed that way.  And I continue to enjoy a whole variety of comfort films, despite their many flaws.  This morning, I’ll go over just a selection of my childhood media where I’ve increasingly seen issues that systematically prop up throughout.

I remember playing the Ghostbusters soundtrack record at full volume at my grandparents’ house – much to their chagrin – singing along the iconic theme song by Ray Parker Jr. in faux-English, pretending to know the words even though I didn’t yet know the language.  The theme song just got me.

Just as epic is the theme song for the Indiana Jones movie franchise.  If you’ve ever heard the Indiana Jones theme, by legendary film composer John Williams (of Star Wars fame), you will know that it’s music that instantly evokes adventure.  It seems unlikely to me that one could hear the Indiana Jones theme without immediately imagining riding off into the sunset on a mission to save the world in heroic glory.

With current streaming services, I’ve had a chance to revisit these comfort films quite regularly now, maybe even rediscover some that I had forgotten about.  And alongside my welcome stroll down memory lane, and the warm and fuzzy sensations that come with comfort watching, I’ve also been finding a creeping sense of discomfort when watching some of my old favourites.

The truth is that, some of the values and worldviews that the film industry has often seen fit depict are no longer aligned with the values that I have come to embrace, especially as I’ve become part of Unitarian Universalist communities of faith.

So, while I still feel the euphoric sense of adventure when I hear the Indiana Jones theme, or when I sing along to the Ghostbusters theme song, I’ve realized that there are at least parts of those films that simply don’t sit right – it’s uncomfortable.

I feel this as I see these films perpetuate barriers to full inclusion.

Let’s start with Ghostbusters.  Putting aside the observation that the ghostbusting characters are terrible scientists, with an implausible grasp of physics, my discomfort comes with the behaviour and attitudes that the film depicts.  One of the film’s stars is the celebrated actor Bill Murray, and in the film, he masterfully portrays one Dr. Peter Venkman with an aloof wit and a flawless deadpan delivery.

But I’ve increasingly felt creeped out by this character – the ghostbusting Dr. Venkman consistently performs with poor professional boundaries, to say the least – particularly when it comes to his romantic advances on a woman who is also a client of his ghostbusting business.  This would be an inappropriate practice in any business setting, but the Dr. Venkman’s repeated failure to accept her refusals takes it to another level.  In the movie, this kind of interaction is depicted as an endearing romantic subplot… obscuring the undertone of harassment that is now so plainly clear to me.  It is uncomfortable to watch.

A friend of mine recently pointed out that the Ghostbusters film also seemed to have an inexplicably active agenda against environmental government regulation – somehow, it turns out that the Environmental Protection Agency is one of the main real-world antagonists in the movie… perhaps a bigger one in the film than the ghosts themselves.  This bizarre subplot escaped me in any of my multiple viewings, but once she pointed it out to me, it struck me by how out of place it is.  It’s cringeworthy.

I still watch the movie every once in a while, but I go into it knowing that I cannot “unsee” the troubling elements in it.

The original Indiana Jones trilogy is much worse.  Once I get over the excitement of the epic theme music, I start to pick up on troubling elements throughout.  Even if we put aside the fact that Dr. Henry “Indiana” Jones Jr. is a terrible archeologist, who wantonly destroys priceless cultural and archeological sites while claiming to salvage valuable artefacts that “belong in a museum” as he punches bad guys, he also has some unsavoury character traits.

I find it quite jarring that the Indiana Jones character consistently behaves with misogynistic and chauvinist attitudes toward his leading ladies, using patronizing and dismissive language, with poor professional boundaries, and exploitative dynamics.  Not to mention blatant disregard for personal and public safety.  The next time you watch one of the Indiana Jones films, I challenge you to see the problems with his approach – once you see it, you can’t unsee it.  To paraphrase Dr. Jones, his professional standards “belong in a museum”.

Moreover, the people of colour in the franchise are often portrayed as scary and irrationally violent at worst, or exotic and comical at best.  Even the people of colour who are “good guys”, in supporting roles to Dr. Jones, tend to be portrayed in a way that is played out for laughs, with little dimension to their characters beyond comic relief or an air of foreign intrigue.  In the original trilogy, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is probably the worst offender in this sense – if you watch it after today, you’ll know what I mean – though Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark also displays a firmly colonial approach, where Jones acts in a way where he seems entitled to casually claim and occasionally destroy indigenous cultural heritage.

Of the three, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is probably the most palatable of the lot, but Dr. Jones’ poor professional boundaries remain – and get him in trouble – and all the while, people of colour remain the most expendable background characters, casually being killed off with barely any grief displayed.  It’s usually only when the leading white people are in danger, or get killed, that the film seems to present any real stakes.

In my latest nostalgia trips, I recently rediscovered the Crocodile Dundee franchise.  And while this wasn’t exactly an old childhood favourite of mine, I still found myself drawn to its 80s nostalgia charm.

And… again, I found myself sitting with the discomfort of a film establishment that did not take into account everyone in the room.  While I found the films mostly entertaining, there were routine instances of misogyny and occasionally awkward navigations of Australia’s colonial history.  I was also rather upset to see that, among the few scenes that featured transgender characters, these characters were played out for laughs and with little regard for the dignity and humanity of trans folks.  I couldn’t help thinking that, if a trans person saw this film, they would walk away feeling harmed, disrespected, and with a message that society does not value them.

And just recently, I’ve started rewatching the 90s sitcom Seinfeld.  A lot of its comedic genius continues to hold up.  There is a lot to say about the whole series, but the one thing that has frequently popped up for me is its consistent insensitivity, stigmatization, and poor understanding of mental health issues.  Some episodes feel outright harmful.  I am glad that this is a conversation that has been given more space in society these days, and I’ve even found some good recent series that deal with mental health in very affirming ways.  It’s just a shame that a television classic fails to consider its impact through its considerable run time.

In some ways, seeing these problematic parts of old favourites might feel like I’ve lost something… old comforts are now sources of new discomforts.  I nonetheless feel that I’ve gained something more valuable – a better sense of what others’ experiences might be if they saw these films… particularly people who have a different life experience from mine.  In revisiting these old favourites and viewing them with a newer, more critical and inclusive perspective, I see myself as embarking in a bolder, far more exciting adventure – to connect more closely with everyone who might be in the room, in an exercise of more radical inclusivity.

Perhaps the specific bits of pop culture that I’ve cited here today are beyond the entertainment categories that you might be more accustomed to.  But I suspect there are old favourites of yours that may end up looking different once you see them through a lens of radical inclusivity, taking into account the values that you hold dear, in contrast to the attitudes and approaches that the filmmakers might have found more marketable for mass audiences.

My friends, nostalgia for the good old days may bring the occasional, welcome, comfort to our current lives.  And it is also helpful to be mindful of the rose-tinted lenses that nostalgia sometimes uses to obscure the reality that those simpler times might not have been all much simpler for others who share our space.

My friends, the adventure of broader inclusion of all who we might encounter calls us to see beyond the stories we might be used to.  It might be uncomfortable and require work – adventures usually do.  And it may bring deeper connection with anyone who might be in the room.

My friends, we share in this adventure together – into the sunset!

So may it be,
In Solidarity and faith,
Amen

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Hymn #106 Who Would True Valor See
Words: John Bunyan, 1628-1688
Music: English melody, arr. by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1872-1958, used by perm. of Oxford University Press
Tune MONK’S GATE

Hymn Channel (3 June, 2016)

National Sunday Service, hosted by the Canadian Unitarian Council and led by Unitarian Universalist Youth and Young Adults.

Watch:

“Change is Nature”
UU Youth and Young Adults
Canadian Unitarian Council
28 November, 2021
with Closed Captioning

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

Time for All Ages – World Toilet Day

World Toilet Day song for WaterAid (5 November, 2013)

Reading – Deuteronomy 23:12-13

“12 You shall have a designated area
outside the camp
to which you shall go. 
13 With your utensils you shall have a trowel;
when you relieve yourself outside,
you shall dig a hole with it
and then cover up your excrement.”

Sermon – Knickers in a Knot – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF document available for download]

Growing up, I was always curious about how things worked and how people figured out how to make these things.  So, I got into the habit of asking my dad about how things were invented – and who thought these things up.

I have fond memories of sitting in the back of the car while he was weaving through traffic, or during a long road trip, and asking about anything that piqued my interest.  How does velcro work?  And who came up with it?  How do people get in touch long-distance over wires?  And what is this Nobel Prize I keep hearing about?

My dad told me the stories behind these, and many other things.  I learned of Swiss Engineer George de Mestral, and how he noticed that whenever he went out hiking in the alps, little burrs would get stuck to his clothes.  And how he then wondered if he could learn what was behind it so that we could put things together, but also be able to pull them apart as needed – the hook-and-loop fastener was created!

I learned about Samuel Morse, and the telegraph’s use of electric circuits and switches to send messages over long distances.  I even learned a bit of Morse Code.

He even told me of Alfred Nobel’s quest to make nitroglycerin safer to handle, eventually creating dynamite, and how – perhaps regretting that he made a fortune from this explosive – Nobel set aside his money to reward world-changing scientific and intellectual achievement.

As I learned all these fascinating stories and facts, I eventually started wondering about other complicated mechanisms.  Cars and internal combustion, electric motors, and things like, how does the water in the toilet flow down when you flush it, but then stops and stays in the bowl?

I wondered about this latter one for a very long time, and as I grew up, I realized that I somehow never got around to asking him about toilets as a kid.  Of course, at some point I knew how to conduct my own research to my questions, and I did eventually learn about the magic of the S-curve in pipes and plumbing, and how this air-tight water-plug keeps the bathroom from smelling like a sewer.

But I also wondered… what kept me from asking my dad about this?  Looking back, I can’t imagine that he would have been anything but enthusiastic about explaining the mechanism of flush toilets.  But something held me back… maybe I felt embarrassed about asking something relating to bodily functions.  Perhaps somewhere in my interactions with friends, or with family, I had picked up a message that this was something you don’t really talk about.  I didn’t know the word for this, but I now know that we call these kinds of things taboo.

Last week, I talked about a few life-saving advances in medicine, like insulin, vaccines, and antiseptic practices such as handwashing, which have shaped the landscape of our health – and of our civilization.

And among all of these advances, toilets remain underrated in just how important they are in building and maintaining the societies that we have come to know, and the benefits that we may find in living in communities that have consideration for sanitation.  Just like the other advances that get lauded and celebrated, winning Nobel Prizes, and which are commemorated on our money and our stamps, toilets are also a life-saving technology that keep us healthy, bring us safety, and make financial security likelier.

But we rarely talk about them because they deal with… squishy and smelly stuff.  Stuff that we’d rather keep out of our mind most of the day – except for those few times during the day, when we are obligated to acknowledge it.

And this silence can be deadly.  Keeping it at the… bottom of our priorities when we think about social development, equity, safety, and health.

And while most of us can go about our days without having to think about it, each of us can probably also recall those days when… the plumbing is not working right.  Only then, do we remember how life-changing, and fundamental, the convenient water closet is to life as we know it.

The harsh reality is that a life without ready access to a toilet is an everyday reality for about a third of the world population.  In great part, this includes many populations in impoverished and rural areas that, due to a variety of social, economic, political, and even geographic factors, have not had the opportunity to establish this fundamental infrastructure.

And we’re not only talking about far away places either.  There are also many people in our country who don’t have reliable access to working plumbing, toilets, sanitation infrastructure, or even clean water.  Many of us are growing in awareness that many reserves for First Nations cannot offer adequate living conditions, due to colonial policies and practices, and this can include substandard sanitation.

In our cities and towns – right down the street from many of us – people who are homeless and precariously housed often lack reliable access to toilets.  Over the last two years, this has been compounded by the effects of the pandemic, as publicly-accessible bathrooms in private establishments have at times been literally barricaded – you might have seen that if you’d gone into a coffee shop in the spring and summer of 2020, and perhaps a few other times since.

In fact, it may well have happened to you during a recent outing, that toilets were not nearly as available as you’d been accustomed to – a realization that has a bad habit of emerging at very inconvenient times.

The fact that this is an everyday reality for many people around the world has serious implications for individual and collective well-being.  It brings serious public health risks like the spread of cholera, diphtheria E.coli and many other pathogens.  It is dangerous – particularly for many women and girls, who sometimes need to step out into the night to take care of their bodies, at great personal risk; and it is costly, both in terms of lives and in terms of economic outlook for individuals and economic output for societies.  A lack of toilets for everyone is an irrational reality.  It is an absurd reality.  It is an expensive reality.

Investing in sanitation and creative solutions, on the other hand, can bring great dividends, sometimes in unexpected ways.  When I mentioned at a recent meeting that I’d be talking about toilets today, a colleague shared that he and his wife once visited the mayor of Battleford, Saskatchewan, and they noticed that the mayor happened to have a toilet sitting in the middle of his office…

When they asked what that toilet was doing there, the mayor explained that the town had been considering a prohibitively-costly expansion of water and sewage infrastructure, but when they learned about the highly water-efficient Caroma toilets that were in use in drought-stricken Australia, they realized that they could instead invest a fraction of that money in providing toilets with a lower water demand to the town, and still meet their water needs.  Smart investment in toilets is investment in communities.

The greatest gains, of course, are the benefits to human lives.  The health advantages and the convenience of easy access to toilets, can sometimes mean the difference between poverty and prosperity, by opening up space and time for educational and economic opportunities.

For this reason, many organizations have made toilets and sanitation a priority.  The World Toilet Organization championed this advocacy and the observance of November 19 as World Toilet Day, and the United Nations took the cue and adopted this awareness initiative.  Water security organizations, and development banks have also included this matter in their agendas.  The topic may offer some comic… relief, but it is a serious matter, as it encompasses the gamut of human rights and dignity.

In our own congregations and surrounding communities, we are also growing in awareness that toilets and bathrooms, and who has access to them, can have implications on dignity, safety… sometimes life and death.  We know that this is a delicate matter for trans folks, who may be in danger as bathrooms are gendered in a way that does not take into account the risks that come when trans identities are ignored.  The bathrooms in our own building happen to be gender-inclusive and this hardly strikes us as odd, yet even single-stall bathrooms in many public spaces are gendered without any reasonable justification beyond habit.

My friends, this conversation begins at home.  It begins with encouraging our family and friends to grow beyond the learned embarrassment around the topic of toilets and bodily needs – even if it’s squishy, sticky, or smelly. 

My friends, this conversation belongs in our immediate and wider communities.  Awkwardness on the topic aside, the lives of many of our neighbours are at risk, and their dignity is at stake.

My friends, this conversation belongs in the world, even when it’s uncomfortable.  The silence can be deadly – bearing witness can make the difference for affirming life.

May we have that conversation.
So may it be,
In Solidarity and faith,

Amen

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

#145 As Tranquil Streams
~)-| Words: Marion Franklin Ham, 1867-1956
Music: Musicalisches Hand-buch, Hamburg, 1690, adapt.
Tune WINCHESTER NEW

Interpreted by Julie Stubbs (4 September, 2020)

Hymn #123 Spirit of Life
Words & music: Carolyn McDade, 1935 © 1981 Carolyn McDade
~)-| harmony by Grace Lewis-McLaren, 1939- , © 1992 Unitarian Universalist Association
spirit of life 8.12.8.12.8.10

Sung by Leah Hokanson of First Unitarian Fellowship of Nanaimo
Posted by the Canadian Unitarian Council (8 March, 2021)

Time for All Ages – Canadian Heritage Minutes

Heritage Minute – The Discovery of Insulin (2021)

Sermon – Life Saving – Rev. Rod

Watch:

Read: [Printable PDF version available for download]

A couple decades ago, I had a summer job as a counsellor for a series of diabetic summer camps.  I was one of only three or four staff members that did not have type 1 diabetes – even the other counsellors used daily insulin to live, as did all the campers.  That experience offered me my first real understanding of just how different the lives of people with diabetes could be from my life.

By and large, people affected by diabetes can manage lives that are quite comparable to those lived by the rest of us… but there’s always something – a whole set of considerations in the background, that still dictate, or affect, many aspects of their lives.  These can range from the merely irksome or annoying, to the inconvenient, and occasionally life threatening.

Of course, many things have changed over the last hundred years.  Type 1 diabetes is no longer the death sentence it used to be.  The processes perfected by the team at the University of Toronto, including Frederick Banting, Charles Best, JJR Macleod, and James Collip, paved the way for the wholesale production of insulin, so that it may be made more accessible to those who need it (and to be clear, it’s not those who merely want it – it’s always those who need it).

Banting and Macleod shared the Nobel Prize in medicine – the credit for an effort like this could never go to one person.  Banting felt that Best also deserved recognition and shared his portion of the prize with him; Macleod did likewise, sharing with Collip.  And… there is still controversy on whether all the right people were properly credited.  In an interconnected web, success is a product of shared efforts, and giving proper credit is an impossible task – and still a task that we pursue.

One Canadian Heritage Minute condenses the dramatic developments of the twelve days that cemented insulin’s success, from the first trial on 14-year-old Leonard Thompson – a trial that failed, giving Thompson an allergic reaction, due to impurities in the first trial batch – to the frantic effort for a pure enough dose, which eventually succeeded in treating Thompson.

But we know that this story doesn’t start at the beginning of those twelve days.  Another Heritage Minute shows a slightly longer timeline, including the trials on diabetic dogs, which eventually succeeded in treating the dogs.  But the story is longer than that.  Banting, Macleod, Best, and Collip, all had to do months and years of earlier preparation and discovery, following a mix of hard facts and intuition.  But there’s more to it than that.

This was only possible because they had foundations that were laid down by several others before them – too many to name, though they include several German and U.S. scientists, with efforts going decades earlier, who made the initial connection between the pancreas and diabetes.  And the real origin story of continuous discovery could go on.  In an interconnected web, giving the proper credit to all the right people is an impossible task – and still we seek to offer the recognition we can.

So, we can celebrate the widespread availability of insulin beginning about a century ago, thanks to these medical advances – but there’s more to it than that.  Despite 100 years of availability and an original patent held by the University of Toronto intended to keep its prices low, insulin is still not as accessible as it should be for all who need it.  Many people with diabetes cannot get the insurance coverage they need, making its necessary use costly over time.

That can be a challenge for many Canadians… and it’s even more so in the United States, where the price of insulin is several times over what you’d find over the counter in our country.  The reasons for this are perhaps too complicated to explain in detail here, but the gist is that it has less to do with the medical science, and more to do with certain regulatory practices and certain business practices that exploit aspects of patent law in insulin’s newer production methods.

The reality that this situation gives witness to, is that medical progress depends not only on research and scientific endeavour, but also on the larger systems and institutions that take part in prioritizing funds, and in channelling the political will to set practices that prioritize serving public health.

Over the past two years, we have seen many parallels to this.  I have spoken before about the miraculously speedy development of the mRNA vaccines for Covid-19.  But there’s more to it than that.  While this was nothing short of remarkable, perhaps the greater miracle was that this newer technology already had decades of preliminary research to back it up, which itself had over two hundred years of progress in immunology, going back to Edward Jenner’s first vaccine for smallpox… which itself relied on previous wisdom.

Some of this wisdom came from names that have been lost to history, though there are also names that simply aren’t acknowledged often, as is the case with the African slave Onesimus, whose received wisdom was taken to help prevent smallpox outbreaks in New England before vaccination was available.  In an interconnected web, giving proper credit may be an impossible task – and yet we strive to name those who we can, when we seek to express gratitude.

We also know that there’s more to it than that.  We have seen that the success of the vaccines depends not just in their efficacy – as established by studies – but also, on social and economic factors that allow them to be equitably distributed, and on social institutions that promote trust, and counter disinformation.

Now, some of the medical progress we have seen can indeed stem from challenging some of the established norms and assumptions of the medical establishment.  And when I say “challenging” I don’t mean “discrediting” or “frivolously attacking” established wisdom – what I mean in this context, is that, when enough facts and research back up a shift in thinking, it is time to boldly champion new wisdom.

That is the story of Hungarian physician Ignaz Semmelweis.  The very first sermon I wrote in lockdown featured him.  You’ve never heard me speak that sermon, because it was exclusively sent out to your inboxes, electronic and physical, before we got around to the online broadcasts.  Semmelweis is known as the pioneer of antiseptic procedures – which is a system of high-level hygiene practices to prevent medical infections.

He suggested handwashing with a special solution as a way of preventing infections in maternity wards, and his method was so dramatically effective, that it cut deaths from childbed fever in one ward from 18% to 1%.  But there was more to it than that.  Despite the empirical evidence, the establishment rejected this new wisdom, and it took… too long for his procedures to become established practice.  Nowadays these hygiene practices are the universal norm and they save lives every day.

Handwashing became one of the three pillars of protection that we had available to us against Covid-19, before vaccines became available, and over the past two years, we have been reminded to honour his memory, with a lifesaving ritual (handwashing!), several times a day.

Versions of this story bring us back to the health science of diabetes.  The first person to share the Nobel Prize with Frederick Banting – JJR Macleod – had been initially sceptical of Banting’s research.  He questioned Banting’s level of experience and credentials.  Still, the research showed enough promise that Macleod offered him space, an assistant (Charles Best), and eventually increased funding and connections with the medical establishment.  Although the partnership had begun somewhat begrudgingly, it became a lifesaving enterprise.

Even now, there are promising developments that are only slowly taking hold in the treatment of the other kind of diabetes – type 2.  Recent research, primarily in the United Kingdom has shown ways in which people at risk of type 2 diabetes, or even recently diagnosed, may be able to prevent it, or even reverse it, within a certain time window.  I won’t go into the details of it here, because it’s not my place or expertise to offer something that might look like medical advice, but I understand that the data backs up these new developments so that the reluctance to accept this newly-emerging wisdom is slowly waning.

My friends, the interdependent web of existence heads deep into the past, and leads us boldly into the future.  Not only did the century-old insulin-development team from the University of Toronto draw deep wisdom from the foundations of this web, they also laid down new foundations for the future of the web, sometimes in unexpected ways.  The development of medical insulin came in just in time to save the life of Dr. George Minot, who eventually developed a treatment for pernicious anemia, and also got a Nobel Prize.  Had medical insulin not arrived when it did, the treatment of pernicious anemia would have likely taken much longer.

My friends, the interdependent web of existence begets life from life.  We are part of that web, we have been part of that web, and we will be part of that web.

So may it be,
In Solidarity and faith,
Amen

Copyright © 2021 Rodrigo Emilio Solano-Quesnel

Closing Hymn #139 Wonders Still the World Shall Witness
~)-| Words: Jacob Trapp, 1899-1992, © 1981 Jacob Trapp
Music: Oude en Nieuwe Hollantse Boerenlities en Contradanseu, c. 1710
Tune IN BABILONE

Posted by Raymond Crooke for the Melbourne Unitarian Peace Memorial Church (1 December, 2019)

Opening Hymn #145 As Tranquil Streams
~)-| Words: Marion Franklin Ham, 1867-1956
Music: Musicalisches Hand-buch, Hamburg, 1690, adapt.
Tune WINCHESTER NEW

Offered by Hillside Community Church (18 June, 2021)

Sermon – “Anti-Racism as Spiritual Practice” – Donovan Hayden

Watch:

Hymn #298 Wake, Now, My Senses
~)-| Words: Thomas J. S. Mikelson, 1936- , © Thomas J. S. Mikelson
Music: Traditional Irish melody, harmony by Carlton R. Young, 1926- , renewal © 1992 Abingdon Press
Tune SLANE

First Unitarian Church of Baltimore (1 May, 2020)

Click here and enjoy!