Dear Ones:

My clergy study group used to meet at the former Catholic Our Lady of Peace retreat center in Narragansett, RI. The original building was an old stone mansion called Hazard Castle. On one side of the mansion sat a seven-story stone tower, which had fallen into disrepair and was closed off to visitors. All the tower’s windows were boarded up. But I was always struck by the good-sized, healthy tree growing through the boards of a second-floor window, reaching up to the top of the tower. I was impressed: a tree growing out of a building.

Our Lady of Peace closed its doors in 2006 and later sold the property. The last time I checked, the tower was still there, still boarded up. Though I couldn’t be absolutely sure from the photos I could find online, the tree seemed to be gone. If the new owners wanted to restore the tower, it would make sense to remove the tree so its roots wouldn’t cause further structural damage. What impressed me then, and what sticks in my mind twenty-five years later, is that tree, somehow planted, somehow thriving on the second floor of an old stone tower. Roots where none ought to be. Roots taking hold, reaching down through layers of human construction toward the earth, finding water and nutrients, finding what is required to sustain life.

Our ministry theme for February is resilience. I offer this tree with roots where none ought to be as an image, a symbol, a reminder, even a declaration of resilience. I am here. I will not only survive, I will thrive. And further, we are here. We will thrive.

For the month of February, we’ll be exploring our sources of resilience. What keeps us grounded here and now? What keeps us centered? What keeps us feeling healthy and whole? What enables us not only to survive but to thrive? These are questions of resilience. Understanding and accessing our sources of resilience is spiritually important work in all the times of our lives. But at the current moment it is essential. In the current moment, as we watch – and as some of us directly experience – the unravelling of our institutions, our social safety net, our democracy – our resilience matters. Resilient people and communities are less likely to spiral into despair and hopelessness. Resilient people and communities are more likely to weather the erosion of public goods and services. Resilient people are less likely to respond with hatred and fear, and more likely to center respect, compassion and love.

The 20th-century Christian mystic, Howard Thurman, is purported to have said the words, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. And then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” The surest path to resiliency is knowing and doing what makes you come alive. That really is my central question for you to ponder as February begins. What makes you come alive?

Feel free to reach out to me and let me know your answers to this question at minister@uuse.org. I’d love to know what you’re thinking about your own resilience. And I’d love to know what you’re thinking about the resilience of our UUSE community.

With love, care, and hope,

Rev. Josh

#FebruaryNewsletter