UU Fellowship of Vero Beach, January, 2010

          Shortly before Christmas my personal laptop went into cardiac arrest.  Because our nomadic lifestyle renders paper files impractical, that laptop contained a decade’s worth of sermons, prayers, professional notes, personal and financial records, photos and so forth.  (Yes, I know, it should have been backed up.  I had great plans for “when I had time.”)   At time of writing, the hard drive is on its way to a California firm in a last-ditch attempt to recover any files at all.  In an admittedly very minor way, I may be getting connecting with how some of you felt when the hurricanes hit, and the foundation pieces of your life were blown away.  

            So here I am – but then, aren’t we all? -- moving toward the New Year from a “rubber meets the road” modality. Most of us do this, most of the time.  Things change.  And change again.  Yesterday’s security may be shaky today.  The touchstones we depend on today may be gone tomorrow.  Our challenge is to find ways to carry on, with integrity and yes, I say it to myself as much as to you – with joy.  

            Ultimately, I will wrap my mind around my new reality – sort of “ministry in free fall.”  Right now, I keep encountering new dimensions of the loss, but this will pass.  I’m working on taking this as a learning, spiritually as well as technologically. 

            I want this crisis to remind me to keep my heart and options open.  To find ways increasingly to release my need for life’s little and large securities.  And to meet with challenges of this coming year with creativity and love.

            That’s what I wish for you, too, my friends.  Blessings, and Happy New Year.

River Road UU Congregation, September, 2010

    Sacred books are likely to be burned in Florida this weekend.  For many of us this evokes images of Nazi bonfires, or the burning of Bibles, poetry and historical texts from Bradbury’s iconic novel, Fahrenheit 451.  For others the threat has empowered latent fears. When feelings are being intentionally manipulated, sooner or later somebody steps over the edge.  The torch is lit, and potent symbols may not be the only things destroyed. 

    Burning a people’s sacred book spits in the face of their humanity, of their human right to freedom of religion.  Stereotyping millions of peaceful Muslims warps freedom of speech into an instrument of hate. 

    What can we do?  As individuals, our voices will add little to the world-wide outpouring of condemnation.  But as individuals we have a moral responsibility to our values, to our beliefs, and to the convictions of both our faith and our country.  We have a responsibility to take the risk of speaking out, of standing publicly on the side of love.

    I can only tell you what I have done.   I sent a signed email to the little 50-member church whose pastor is leading his people in the ways of hate.  In my email, I asked them to hear the deeper voice of their God calling them to a path of love.  Borrowing Dr. King’s words, I said that hatred can never drive out hate, only love can do that.

    Will it make any difference?  If that church won't hear the U.S. Dept. of State, or American military leaders, or the Vatican, they’re not likely to listen to me. 

    But still – if not us, then who?  If not now, when?