Welcome to February! Welcome to winter’s belly—the long, cold, mucky stretch between the solstice holidays and spring’s arrival. This is the time when snow blankets the land. This is the time when lakes and ponds freeze. This is the time when so many outdoor green things lie dormant, when bulbs sleep in snug pockets beneath the ground, when so many birds have flown on to warmer climes, when hibernating animals slow their heart beats to wait out the cold.
This is a tiring time, when we’ve had enough of slush and shoveling, dead car batteries and biting wind. This is a tiring time, when we’ve had enough of colds and flu, icy roads, and cancelled school. This is a tiring time when high heating bills remind us how closely our lives are tied to the politics of nations where crude is sucked out of the ground at $100 per barrel.
This is a beautiful time, when ice on branches glistens in morning’s slowly returning sun. This is a beautiful time, when night still comes early, reminding us we are like bulbs in dark, snug pockets waiting to burst forth in bright colors through the muck into spring’s wet warmth. This is a beautiful time, when winter’s bleak landscape urges us to look inward. This is a beautiful time when winter’s darkness blesses us with opportunities to reflect on our lives: to discern the things that matter most; to hold tightly to the things that give us meaning, joy and sustenance; to let go of the things weighing us down; and to resolve to change ourselves in all the ways we wish to change.
Yes, this is also a time to anticipate ice melting, branches budding, birds returning, animals awakening, and sun shining with steady warmth on beautiful, spring days. But let us not be drawn too quickly into spring. For winter takes its time. And, thus, the spiritual work of winter—the inward work of reflection and discernment, holding on and letting go—takes its time too. Though the cold and ice and mess of winter may make for extended discomfort, though it may wear us down and make us long for spring, let us endeavor to heed the lessons of winter. Let us learn to take time, to look inward, to find warmth in unexpected places now—so that we can embrace spring at its rightful time in all its glory.
With love,
--Josh
First, Happy New Year!!!! Second, if you’ve heard it whispered that “Rev. Josh is taking a sabbatical,” it’s not a rumor. I will be taking the first sabbatical of my career from September, 2008 to January, 2009. I am deeply grateful for this opportunity. I have been looking for a sabbatical activity that will feed my soul, nurture, revitalize, and challenge me at this time in my life. As I reflect on and pray about my sabbatical, and as I talk to colleagues about how best to spend my sabbatical, writing keeps emerging as the right activity for me. I have been postponing a number of writing projects due to time constraints; my sabbatical will provide the perfect opportunity to pursue them.
Planning for ministerial sabbaticals can be stressful for congregations. In my view, two major areas of ministerial service need attention: Sunday worship and pastoral care. Regarding worship, UUS:E has an advantage compared to most other congregations.
Since I typically lead worship and preach twice per month, UUS:E already has a strong lay
worship capacity and will easily fill in some of the Sundays I miss. Furthermore, UUS:E
has strong pulpit resources in our endorsed Community Minister, the Rev. Jeanne Lloyd,
and in our two ministerial students, Michelle LaGrave and Drew Moeller. We will also be
inviting area UU ministers to preach. I have preached for many colleagues during their
sabbaticals, and they will gladly return the favor. I have asked the Sunday Services Committee
to request an increased budget to cover the cost of having extra ministers in our pulpit
next fall.
To cover our pastoral care needs, I have asked Rev. Lloyd to be available for pastoral visits and to work with the Pastoral Friends Committee to organize care. I have asked the Finance Committee to establish a pastoral care line item so that Rev. Lloyd can be compensated. I will be asking the congregation to engage in a covenant-building process with Rev. Jeanne in the spring so that more people can get to know her, and so that we can collectively establish some expectations and boundaries for her ministerial relationship with UUS:E. In the event of a UUS:E member’s death during my sabbatical, I will be available for memorial services.
I recognize my sabbatical comes while we are still in the midst of a building project.
I have full faith that the building leadership team, the Policy Board and the Program
Council can effectively guide UUS:E through whatever phase of the project we happen to
be in during my absence. If you have any questions, please ask!
One day we saw Santa at the Buckland Hills Mall. Our five-year-old, Mason, explained very clearly to Santa what presents he wanted for Christmas. Our one-year-old, Max, was not happy to be placed on Santa’s lap. The next day we saw Santa at the UUS:E holiday fair. I was sure Mason would detect two different Santas, especially if it became apparent the second Santa had no idea what presents Mason had requested the day before. I warned Mason: “Santa talks to so many kids that he can’t remember the specific present requests he heard the day before. I’m sure one of the elves typed your requests into Santa’s computer so he wouldn’t forget.” Although Mason noticed Santa was wearing a different outfit than the day before, he didn’t seem to notice it was an entirely different Santa. At least he didn’t say anything if he did. Max was, once again, not happy at the prospect of being placed on Santa’s lap.
I never really imagined how it would be to be a father during the holidays. I like it. I like watching Mason heat up and boil over with excitement when he sees Santa. I like the way he gets lost in the magic of the season. Make no mistake: there is crass materialism here. He associates the season with presents! I don’t mind this entirely. After all, I like getting presents, too. There’s nothing wrong with receiving provided it’s balanced with an equal amount of giving. And of course Mason has other associations: the story of the birth of Jesus, time with family (especially grandparents), raking leaf piles (and jumping in them), pumpkin drops and pumpkin rolls, going to church for Christmas Eve (where he will see Santa yet again), and decorating the Christmas tree.
Still, I wonder to what extent he understands and values “giving.” And, I wonder to what extent he understands and values the message of Christmas and the holiday season, “peace on earth, good will to all.” Admittedly, these are hard values to instill in the impulse- driven, beautifully selfish five-year-old personality. And it’s not just five-year-olds. Frankly, these values are hard to instill in anyone, including myself! And yet, December after December, we come back to these values. Their necessity does not diminish over time. Our call remains: to give at last as much as we receive, to work for peace, to extend good will to all. Hard, yes. Essential, yes. As the holiday season comes upon us, I am already feeling inspired to teach my son these values again, and to rediscover them in my own heart.
I wish us all a very blessed holiday season. May we each in our own way reconnect with the deeper values of this season.
With love,
--Josh
Dear Ones:
Not being a big fan of golf, I didn’t see it coming. On our family trip to Oregon following the Unitarian Universalist Association General Assembly in June, we visited the Kah-Nee-Ta Resort on the Warms Springs Indian Reservation. Although we went there to swim in the Olympic-size, 95 degree pool, our five-year-old, Mason, noticed a miniature golf course nearby and wondered what it was. We decided to play a round. We had the course all to ourselves. Mason was in heaven. Better yet, on the 18th hole, he sunk his ball on the first shot. “Holy One!” he shouted, and kept shouting joyously as he ran around the green smiling and slapping our hands as he passed by. “Holy One!”
Since then we’ve played mini golf nine times in four states. We’ve become golf course and gulf club connoisseurs. We’ve developed superstitions about what color balls to use and when to tee up left, right, or center. Mason has brought his score down from 120 to a personal best of 66 at “Cape Escape” in Orleans, MA. One of us seems to shoot that ever-elusive hole-in-one about once every other game, but we never call it that. To us, it’s always a Holy One!
Mason’s “Holy One” was a precious, unanticipated moment of joy. I find it amusing that, although we enjoy playing the game as a family whether we get a hole-in-one or not, every time we tee up we’re secretly—and sometimes not so secretly—hoping, longing, yearning to sink that ball on the first shot. As I look around at the people playing on the greens near us, I realize they all feel the same way. They all want a Holy One too!
Maybe our spiritual lives are like this. We hope for, long for, yearn for that Holy One, that precious and unanticipated moment of spiritual-filled joy, that overwhelming sense of oneness, that potent feeling of presence, that direct experience of transcending mystery and wonder, that Hallelujah moment! But the real, authentic moments are rare. The real moments of grace are rare. The real moments of transformation are rare. Even when we concentrate and practice and work hard to open ourselves up to their occurrence, our Holy Ones are few and far between.
My prayer for you, the members and friends of UUS:E, as we begin our congregational year together, is that although our Holy Ones may be elusive, although our best moments of joy-filled spiritual experience may be rare, we will not stop hoping, longing, and yearning. May we enjoy the search together, and when those unanticipated joyful moments come upon us, may we all shout, “Holy One!”
With love,
--Rev. Josh
Dear Ones:
I entered this particular May with just a tinge of consternation. You see, on May 1st I turned 40 years old. OK, so it’s not 50, and it’s not 100 (my grandmother, Edna Gobrecht Sterner, turns 100 this coming July), and some of you will contend I’m still a baby. But 40 is nevertheless one of those milestone birthdays. I’m not upset. I’m not panicking. I’m not foreseeing a mid-life crisis—although at times the aspiring rock star in me still longs for the bright lights and long nights of the Boston and New York club scenes. On the eve of 40, I’m reflecting. I’m reflecting on whether or not the path I’m on is the right path for me. (It is.) I’m reflecting on mistakes I’ve made. I’m reflecting on my achievements. I’m reflecting on the future. I’m reflecting on how to go deeper with this life.
Franz Wright’s 2004 book of poetry, Walking to Martha’s Vineyard, is often helpful for me in my times of reflection. Below are some of his insights. I offer them to you as potential prompts for your own self-reflecting. I offer them in no particular order, with no interpretation, no matter what your age, no matter what your theology. I invite you to reflect on one or more of these statements and see where they take you:
—“No one is a stranger, this whole world is your home.”
—“You who created the stars and the sea come down, come down in spirit, fashion a new heart in me, create me again.”
—“I believe one day the distance between myself and God will disappear.”
— “Set your mind before the mirror of eternity and everything will work.”
—“The closer I get to death the more I love the earth.”
—“There is a power that wants me to live….There is a power that wants me to love.”
—“How is it that I didn’t spend my whole life being happy, loving other human being’s faces?”
—You gave me in secret one thing to perceive, the tall blue starry strangeness of being here at all.”
As I reflect on these statements, my consternation over turning 40 seems to wane. Where do these statements take me? I find I keep coming back to Hallelujah, that ancient Hebrew cry of praise, gratitude, and joy. There is much in my life for which I can offer praise. There is much in my life for which I feel deep gratitude. There is much in my life that brings me joy. I hope the same is true for you in some form or fashion!
With love,
-Rev. Josh
