Prelude: Melodia Africana I by Ludovico Einaudi
Opening Words: by Jan Smith (adapted)
Welcome,
Welcome to this place,
Whatever path has brought you here,
Whatever load you carry,
Let us rest a while together.
May our hearts be open to accept what comes to us as a stranger,
May our minds be open to wonder at what we do not understand,
And may our spirits be nourished by our time here together,
Before we again take up our loads and set off upon our many paths.
Welcome!
Chalice Lighting Words by Adam Slate (adapted)
As we travel the paths that our lives reveal to us,
We are often not sure of the way, the distance, or the destination.
Nevertheless, we have each other.
We can look to one another for wisdom,
We can be grateful for each other’s companionship,
And we can seek support when we have lost hope.
We light our chalice today to signify that we are willing to take the journey.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
be with us as we gather for worship,
in this sacred space.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
and to care for each other,
in this world in which the clouds
of war, poverty, and climate change hover.
May we be able to make a difference,
starting where we are, with what we have.
May we keep in touch however we can,
and help each other, however we may.
May we be grateful for the freedoms we have
and defend the freedom of others.
May we hold in our hearts all those
who are grieving, lost, alone,
victims of violence and war,
suffering in any way,
Amen
Reading from Benedictus by John O’Donohue
No day is ever the same, and no day stands still; each one moves through a different territory, awakening new beginnings. A day moves forward in moments and once a moment has flickered into life, it vanishes and is replaced by the next. It is fascinating that this is where we live, within an emerging lacework that continuously unravels. Often a fleeting moment can hold a whole sequence of the future in distilled form: that unprepared second when you looked in a parent’s eye and saw death already beginning to loom. Or the second you noticed a softening in someone’s voice, and you knew that a friendship was beginning. Or catching your partner’s gaze upon you and knowing the love that surrounded you. Each day is seeded with recognitions.
The writer’s life is a wonderful metaphor for this. The writer goes to his desk each morning to meet the empty white page. As he settles himself, he is preparing for visitation and voyage. His memory, longing and craft set the frame for what might emerge. He has no idea what will come. Yet despite his limitations, his creative work will find its own direction to form. Each of us is an artist of our days; the greater our integrity and awareness, the more original and creative our time will become.
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust.
Amen
Reading Camas Lilies by Lynn Ungar
Consider the lilies of the field,
the blue banks of camas
opening into acres of sky along the road.
Would the longing to lie down
and be washed by that beauty
abate if you knew their usefulness,
how the natives ground their bulbs
for flour, how the settlers’ hogs
uprooted them, grunting in gleeful
oblivion as the flowers fell?
And you — what of your rushed
and useful life? Imagine setting it all down —
papers, plans, appointments, everything —
leaving only a note: “Gone
to the fields to be lovely. Be back
when I’m through with blooming.”
Even now, unneeded and uneaten,
the camas lilies gaze out above the grass
from their tender blue eyes.
Even in sleep your life will shine.
Make no mistake. Of course
your work will always matter.
Yet Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.
Prayer by Cliff Reed
In the quietness of this place and the peace of this hour,
may we come close to our deeper selves.
Fantasies and daydreams too often cloud our minds,
and we use our time and energy pursuing empty goals.
In busy-ness we lose our way.
Let us listen to the deep insistent call within us.
May we learn to love our poor fragmented selves
that they may be healed.
And may we turn that love outwards,
that it might heal the wounds which hate and fear have made.
Let us not be deceived about ourselves or about our world,
so that we neither crash in disillusion nor be twisted by cynicism.
If truth and clear vision be granted us, then let us give thanks.
May arrogance never trap us into thinking that truth has but one aspect.
May we stand face to face with ourselves,
recognising that which is truly ours,
and that which is the imposition of others.
And as we do, may we feel the love which unites us all in the depths of our being.
Amen
Reading from Crossing Bridges by Jan Taddeo
Unitarian Universalists step out into the unknown all the time as we embark on our spiritual adventures. We go searching for new ways to make meaning of our lives, to create a more just and loving world, and to answer questions of ultimacy together.
We seek creative ways to raise our children with inquiring minds and loving hearts, and to provide them with the tools to navigate an unpredictable future.
We cross bridges and borders as we learn to navigate the multicultural world around us that challenges us to expand our worldview and embrace new ways of engaging a changing world.
Whether we are crossing a bridge from a place of comfort to challenges we never anticipated, or from our own cultural norms to completely new worldviews, we have resources, friends, and mentors to guide us.
If we are crossing the bridge from youth to young adult, or from career to retirement, somehow we find the tools we need to navigate our way to the other shore.
For this amazing journey, we carry in our backpacks a sense of wonder, a sense of humour, and a lot of courage. Our compass is the compassion we hold for all our neighbours.
Our sustenance is the joy of discovering our true selves and experiencing the divine in one another. Our map is the sacred covenant we hold with one another to walk this journey together.
With so many tools to guide and support us as we approach new bridges, it is not such a leap of faith to trust that we will arrive at the distant shore. Together, we can boldly go where our vision and our faith call us to go.
Time of Stillness and Reflection (words by Thomas Rhodes, adapted)
Let us enter into a time of meditation, contemplation, and prayer.
Feel the earth beneath your feet as it supports you.
Feel the love of this virtual community as it surrounds and enfolds you.
Feel your breath as it flows in
and out of your body.
Listen to your heartbeat.
Listen to your heart.
Take another breath, and hold it.
The air you hold in your body is the most precious thing in the world,
for your very life depends on it.
And yet, none of us can hold on to it for more than a moment,
or else we would surely die.
What is most precious to us must be released,
so that we may live, and live fully.
Look into your heart, find what is there, and hold it.
The love you hold within your heart is the most precious thing in the world.
And yet no one can hold on to it any more than your heart can withhold its blood,
for love cannot be possessed.
What is most precious to us must be shared,
so that we may love, and love fully.
[silence]
Look into your life, at those things that are most precious to you.
Look again, you will find that their value lies not in being held,
but in being shared.
Life, love, laughter, longing,
may we share these precious gifts
that they may return to us, multiplied beyond measure. Amen
Musical Interlude I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi
Address
We are all busy people, with many pressures on us to meet deadlines, and never quite getting there, wherever “there” is. So today, just for this one holy hour, let us try to let go, to simply be, together as a community.
It is very easy to spend our lives chasing after the next thing that needs doing, the next goal that presents itself to us, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. We move forwards through time, and it is natural to look to the future. But I am afraid that this is often at the expense of appreciating what we have in the present. This is certainly true in my case. I always have a to-do list on the go – especially this year – and have to consciously put a weekly Sabbath into my diary, so that I can let go, and spend some time just being.
This is why I found the words of the poem by Lynn Ungar, which I shared as our second reading, so moving: “What of your rushed and useful life? Imagine setting it all down – papers, plans, appointments, everything – leaving only a note: ‘Gone to the fields to be lovely.’ Be back when I’m through with blooming.” Such a fabulous reminder that actually there are other things than the current task, which are just as important, if our lives are to be rich and meaningful, rather than rushed and pressured.
I am slowly coming to realise that many of the pressures in our lives (certainly many of the pressures in my life) are self-inflicted. It is my distracted self who chases after material possessions, who needs to be in control, who perpetually worries about the next thing, who strives after perfection, and who finds it hard to let go of old regrets and grievances. I’m doing it all to myself.
I’m beginning to learn that the starting point for breaking out of all this pressure, for getting away from all this self-inflicted stress, is Just Letting Go. Which for an Enneagram Type 3 (The Performer) who is highly motivated to be achieving stuff all the time, is pretty darn difficult. But as Richard Rohr writes in Discovering the Enneagram: “To be healed and redeemed, Threes must learn to be alone. They need a place of silence and seclusion, where there is no public feedback, no applause, and no admiration. Contemplative prayer and silent meditation are the appropriate “prescriptions”. When Threes begin to discover their inner world, in the beginning they generally make that into a project too: they want to meditate successfully. It takes a while before they notice that the point is to do nothing, to learn nothing, simply to exist.” Oh dear!
Relinquishing control, stepping out of the centre, sitting still and letting nothing happen, are all incredibly difficult for me. And I guess this is true for many of us. It involves trust – trust that things will work out without our help, trust that God has got our backs. And it’s a slow process. But I have found that sitting in silence is a sure route towards inner peace.
I am now coming towards a time when it will be so necessary for me to bear this in mind. This is my final online service: at the end of the month, I will be retiring from the Midland Unitarian Association, from both my role as District Secretary (which I’ve been since 2006) and District Minister (which I’ve been since March 2008). And while I am ready, even willing and eager, for retirement, to having more time to spend writing, crocheting, and with my grandchildren, I know that there are going to be aspects of it which I will find difficult. I will miss travelling around the District, seeing you all, hearing your joys and concerns and sharing worship with you. I will miss having my finger on the pulse of what is going on. I will miss… quite a lot.
But of course, I have to accept that our lives are full of change; it is in the very nature of being alive. As John O’Donohue pointed out in our first reading, “No day is ever the same, and no day stands still; each one moves through a different territory, awakening new beginnings.” And as we move through our days, making particular choices, the paths we did not take close behind us.
And as he writes elsewhere in Benedictus, “When you look at each threshold, you see that you had several choices at each point. You would always choose only one path. In this way, the person you are today is the result of the path you chose. Out of these choices, you have inherited and shaped your life. This is the life you live now. This is the person you have become.”
Like Shakespeare, we know that, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.” At different times in our lives, we will begin new things, or complete old things, leaving them behind. But life is never static, never unchanging.
So we need to be careful and mindful about how we live our days, how we approach new experiences. Like many of us, I can become disheartened by the sheer volume of what I need to, would like to, feel I ought to do. When I feel this way, I remember the advice of the American Unitarian Universalist minister, Forrest Church, “Do what you can, where you are, with what you have.”
In other words, we don’t need to conquer the world right off the bat. Changes are made by individual people, doing what they can from where they are, day by day, using the skills that they have, and being open to change and growth.
I believe it is essential to keep our hearts and minds open to the possibility of new beginnings, in the face of all the sad endings that are an inevitable part of life. The support and love of other people is vital at such times, and I have been very blessed in the past few weeks by the kind messages I have received.
I have found that the key to moving on is staying curious, being open to starting something new. Luckily for me, it doesn’t take much to awaken my curiosity. I’m like a cat, fascinated by anything that moves, even if it does sometimes mean chasing after rainbows. Or like a dog, nose down, hot on the trail of something new and exciting, my tail wagging. My curiosity, my thirst for learning has led me in many directions. I have continued to learn whenever a subject has sparked my interest. Sometimes, it has led me down a rabbit hole into nowhere particular. Yet I have always enjoyed the journey.
It can be both exciting and daunting to make a new beginning; in my case, the one of moving from active employment into being retired. On the one hand, we are excited about the new idea that has seized our imagination and are full of enthusiasm to get on with it. On the other hand, if we make the mistake of looking up from what we are doing at that moment and see how very far we still have to go, we may become discouraged and wonder whether we will ever get there. And this is just as true of communities such as congregations, as it is of individuals. But we can do it, so long as we concentrate on doing what we can, with what we have, starting from where we are.
I’d like to thank the members and friends of all the congregations in the Midland Unitarian Association for my experiences with you during the past two decades. I thank you for your love, kindness and support. I was challenged; stretched and my experiences gave me good tools with which to do ministry. I was given freedom to create a ministry with you and I thank you for your acceptance of my ministry among you. I celebrate the things we were able to do and I have sadness there were things I could not achieve.
I love and respect each and every one of you, and devoutly hope that our congregations will not only survive but also grow and thrive. I will be holding you all in my thoughts and prayers as you move together in beloved community over the coming months and years.
I will miss you all enormously, and look forward to resuming leading worship here at some point in the future, as a retired minister. But I know that I am leaving the District in very good hands and am confident that the Unitarian witness in the Midlands will continue to thrive.
I leave you with the words of Ludwig van Beethoven: “I wish you all the good and charm that life can offer. Think of me kindly and … rest assured that no-one would more rejoice to hear of your happiness.”
Closing Words A Minister’s Farewell by Caitlin Cotter Coillberg
Beloveds,
May love guide you on your journey forward,
joy meet you at every turn,
and hope be your daily practice.
May gratitude companion you,
compassion embolden you,
and open-hearted courage be your unending choice.
May peace challenge you, dear ones,
generosity empower you,
and may you know, in every day,
that you are enough, just exactly as you are,
and you are not alone.
Blessed be, and farewell.
Postlude: Stella del Mattino by Ludovico Einaudi