Boots and Blessings

When my best friend had twin toddlers, she decided that there was no way she and her partner could do this alone, they were going to need to have a baseline trust, rather than suspicion, of the people they would encounter each day. We have to trust others. The question is, who are you going to trust? This may be the bottom line of the division that is between Americans today. Who do we decide to trust? Who do we not trust? I trust scientists who show that they are following the appropriate research guidelines of today, e.g. peer-reviewed studies, double-blind tests, etc. I don't trust the currently government administration, but if I'm being truthful, I don't fully trust any administration on certain things. In times of crisis, part of their job is to not induce panic. So I don't always trust that I'm hearing the full story. But when verifiable facts, studies, witnesses are provided, I pay attention. We are so terribly divided on this, aren't we? I will sa

Let me preface by saying I know that not all people are comfortable with military/war metaphors, so feel free to either find a metaphor that works for you, or skip this altogether. My dad, however, was a Korean war veteran who went to military college (that's what Texas A&M was in those days), originally stationed in artillery before being changed at the last minute to be a teacher in the corps of engineers. So some battle metaphors worked for him in explaining the world around him. His highest compliment about a person's character was an affirmative answer to "but could you send them for the ammunition?" The metaphor is this: you are in battle, and it's not looking good. You've got a partner with you, and y'all are running out of ammunition. If you send this person back to get more ammunition, will they return? Or will they promise to return, but then run the opposite direction, sacrificing you in the process? He and I would talk about this,

One of the chief values in being part of a community whether it be a church, a town, or a country, is a sense of responsibility as a member of that community. But we are also individuals, not just cogs in a machine. We make our own decisions, determine for ourselves what we believe, and shape our own lives. Like many things in life, there needs to be a dynamic tension between individuality and community. In our faith of Unitarian Universalism, this tension is seen by the "bookends" of our Seven Principles. The Seven Principles are a set of promises, a sacred "to-do list," that every UU congregation promises to the other UU congregations that they will work toward. The First Principle is that we affirm and promote "The inherent worth and dignity of every person." The Seventh Principle is that we affirm and promote "Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part." To be a Unitarian Universalist community means to h

The graduating seniors of the College of Holy Cross had a surprise commencement speaker, Dr. Anthony Fauci, who urged them on: "I encourage you to stay strong and unflinching. The country and the world need your talent, your energy, your resolve, and your character." It is a time for character. A time for every person to rise to the occasion, to bring their best selves forward. I am a fan of the Character Counts! program, created by the Josephson Foundation for Ethics, which breaks down character into 6 pillars : Trustworthiness Respect Responsibility Fairness Caring Citizenship To be a person of character means that you have principles that guide the decisions you make about your life, even when it's inconvenient. Even when you don't want to. Even when it's hard. Even when it means sacrifice. Around us are, sadly, many examples of people without character, people operating through selfishness, greed, and contempt for others. But look around. The

I am profoundly grateful to the New York Times for their Sunday, May 24 front page. Under a headline reading, "U.S. DEATHS NEAR 100,000, AN INCALCULABLE LOSS," they listed the names of 1,000 of those individuals who have died of covid-19, with the age, where they lived, and a detail about them. Maestro of a steel-pan band. Rocket engineer. Taught her girls sheepshead and canasta.  One of my clearest memories of 9-11 was watching on tv, the family members running from camera to camera, holding up pictures of their loved ones, pleading that someone look at the picture, and tell them the person was alive. I sobbed, over and over, and finally had to turn the tv off for a while. I remember, clearly, saying, "I just can't cry anymore." It was right that we cried then, and right that we should cry now. This is a devastating loss of life. It is unnatural and inhuman to ignore the death toll, to not be affected. We should be weeping and burning candles. We should be

How are you expressing yourself right now? How will you remember what this time was like, or share with others your memories? I am a big fan of journaling in all its many forms. Blogging was, at a particularly difficult time in my life, a safe place. I kept a blog under a pseudonym , and for six years, it was where I could pour out all of my feelings without the need to be brave for those who knew me in real life. And though I wouldn't have thought it at the time, I'm glad I have all those thoughts and experiences written down where I can look back at them. My grandparents and great-grandparents lived through so many things - the 1918 Pandemic, the Great Depression, WWII ... I would give anything to have even just a few notes they had written about what that was like. No need for poetry -- just the minutiae of everyday life. What did they eat? What were their biggest worries? What did they do for fun or distraction? And you can just never tell what will happen once you

As you consider the routines that will make this time of pandemic a little more pleasant, how about cocktail hour? I grew up with parents who always observed the ritual, whether it was a glass of cold tea or their favorite Canadian whiskey and seltzer. The drink wasn't important, it was their time to catch up with each other and share the details of their day. Weather-permitting, they'd sit outside on the deck my dad built, talk and decompress from the day before heading inside for dinner. Retired, they continued the tradition (though it often came earlier -- "Time for our 4 o'clock," they'd say.) We've begun having this at our house. It serves as a boundary between the school/workday and home time. Kids and parents, we sit out on our patio with our drinks of choice and a little bit of a salty snack. Conversations just naturally happen when we're not in front of the tv or other screens. Being all together in one house (which makes it all too easy

Does Quarantine have you sitting in one place for hours at a time ... Get up! Move! One of my congregants reminded us in stark terms how important this is. Her husband was busy working from home, as so many of us are. She posted last week that he was "in the hospital overnight as he got a large clot in his leg as well as several lung clots (2 pulmonary embolisms too) from sitting 8-10 hours a day." She urged everyone -- get up every hour! Move around! Even if you're not sitting at a desk all day, we all need movement of some sort. Most of us are avoiding going out in public, which means that our need to be active may have slipped down the priority list. And we're not moving in the ordinary ways we were accustomed to - my kids aren't walking from class to class, spouse isn't walking up and down the aisles of the store, I'm not wandering the grounds of the church, to ask the Rabbi down the hall a question or to find answers out on the labyrinth. So,

How's your head these days? Are you clear, focused? Light in spirit? Centered?  Yeah, me neither.  My meditation routine had already slipped to the bottom of my priority list before quarantine began. I was trying to get everything done in preparation for going on sabbatical. And on my sabbatical, I would have plenty of time to get back in the routine.  (In retrospect, planning on go on sabbatical beginning April 1 - who does that??? I was just asking the universe to prank me. I mean, a worldwide pandemic seems a little extreme, but then, I did pull a lot of April Fools jokes in my life. Perhaps it was to be expected.)  Best time to meditate? On sabbatical.  Second best time to meditate? While in quarantine for a worldwide sabbatical, the length of which remains undetermined.  My friend M posted a graphic that sums up why all of us -- even non-meditators -- might want to give it a try these days:   I am no expert in meditating, so if you're intereste

Perhaps one of the misused quotes of Ralph Waldo Emerson is that "consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds." It's used to brush off any suggestions of routines and consistent thinking. But that is taking it out of context. It is a quote about living authentically, and honoring, as Unitarian Universalist James Luther Adams wrote, "...the principle that “revelation” is continuous. Meaning has not been finally captured. Nothing is complete, and thus nothing is exempt from criticism. Liberalism itself, as an actuality, is patient of this limitation. At best, our symbols of communication are only referents and do not capsule reality. Events of word, deed, and nature are not sealed. They point always beyond themselves." On Friday, I wrote about routines , chosen and unchosen, during this time. What is a routine, a thoughtful consistency, one that will feel like a reward not a chore, than you can choose for yourself during this strange and disturbing time?

You probably already have a pandemic/quarantine routine. But how is it working for you? I had one. It was, more or less: * Wake up before the alarm with my mind churning with all the thoughts I hadn't dealt with * Get on Facebook and read articles about coronavirus * Have coffee and read more articles * Work work work * Lunch: Grab something ridiculous from the refrigerator or pantry and take it back to my computer * Work work work * Gulp down dinner * Work as if by my efforts, I could make coronavirus disappear * Watch evening news dissection * Toss and turn * Have nightmares based on the evening news dissection This really was not working for me. Duh! But my family members were more or less working on their own version of that routine. One of my teens had flipped her schedule completely, sleeping all day, and awake all night. This wasn't good for any of us. Not all at once, but I am beginning to establish some routines that suit me better. Cocktail/Mocktail

You've been shipwrecked on a deserted island. Realizing you'll be here for an indefinite amount of time, you've assessed your resources, and figured out how you can repurpose some of them to help you in this new life. Now what? Oh yeah. Those people living with you. Whenever one is starting a new community, whether it is in the London tubes during the Blitz or a deserted island, or a church, or a family that is now quarantined together, it is good to articulate the expectations of the group members, and come to a shared set of agreements. In Unitarian Universalism, we often refer to this as a covenant, a set of promises the group commits to. They have a simple starting exercise that I have repeatedly found helpful: Give each member of the community an index card and a pen. On one side, each person writes three things they are willing to promise the rest of the group. On the other side, three promises they would like from the group. After everyone has done t

You've been shipwrecked on a deserted island. You've assessed your resources and are now looking at them, and thinking about the life you want to live on this "island" that is your home. The thing is, you furnished your island for a different world, one with much coming and going. A large dining room for big gatherings with friends and family. Not too much in the kitchen, because you eat out often. Should you rearrange things now to better suit your purposes? You can do that, you know. Accepting that we may be living almost exclusively on this "deserted island" opens us up to rearranging things to suit the reality we're living in now. For instance, in our house we are cooking far more than we used to, and trying to limit our trips to the grocery store, so we're going to empty some shelves in a closet near the kitchen for storing staples. We have a dining room, used only for special occasions with extended family. We have a loft that had been

This week, I'm writing about using the metaphor of being shipwrecked on a deserted island to find ways to make our currently reality a little more livable, maybe even a little more enjoyable. Remember what Chuck Noland (played by Tom Hanks) did as one of his first steps in Castaway? He opened up the Fed Ex boxes that had washed ashore with him. He figured out how to make a rope using videotape, used ice skates to make an axe. So, first step for us: Assess resources. Pretty nice deserted island for many of us, with homes, food, and electricity! We can even see people on their own deserted islands, though it's not safe to go through the piranha-filled waters to get to them. Look around your apartment or house. This is now your island. What do you have that will work well here? An exercise bike? An old breadmaker? The right space between two trees for a hammock for when you get cabin fever? Do you have an old patio set you can spruce up so that you can enjoy time outside? M

So, last March, you were shipwrecked on a deserted island. For the first month, you were in shock. And assumed it was temporary. There were novel things - crab everywhere! You arranged stones to say SOS on the beach. You made a fire, so the search plane could find you. You waited to be rescued. The second month, your hope for immediate rescue was ebbing. You began grieving. You thought of the ordinary things you had taken for granted. Your shock turned to denial. This couldn't really be happening. You have a golf tournament scheduled for the end of the month! Third month, you began accepting that not only is this real, but it could be this way for quite a while. The makeshift shelter isn't ideal. There are probably better ways to store water than coconut shells. Maybe you could weave a hammock to sleep in. As I wrote about last week , I don't believe the rescue plane is going to be coming for us anytime soon. There may be some waxing and waning over the next year,

Okay, friends. No poetry or pretty words today. Most likely, if you're reading this, you're someone I love. And if you're someone I don't yet know, I bet I'd love you if I met you. Most people are, I find, extremely lovable. And I'm worried about you. Sunday is Mothers' Day. And many of us love getting together on Mothers' Day. I know I sure do. My mom is 89 years old, have I told you that? Sharp, independent, and very funny. She moved about 10 minutes away from me four years ago, and we've gotten together every Mothers' Day either for a crawfish boil or brisket from Franklin's. But this year: nope. I've got something special planned for her, but it doesn't involve either of us being in each other's house, and we certainly aren't going out to a restaurant. And she doesn't just support this, she's the one driving this bus, so to speak. She grew up hearing her grandmother talk about the Spanish flu epidemic when

There is an old Unitarian Universalist joke: Hearing that a great flood was coming, the Catholics said their rosaries and the Buddhists used their beads, the Congregationalists joined in prayer, and the Unitarian Universalists formed a class to try to learn to live underwater. Well, friends, I believe it's time to start up those classes. For us, it's not living underwater, it's figuring out how to learn to live under quarantine. Smart people are looking at what has happened thus far with coronavirus, and what our country is not willing to do, and it seems clear that this is not going to be a short inconvenience. We have to face reality. Many of my choral musician friends are in grief this week, because they are doing just that. They are looking at the information available, and concluding that " there is no safe way for singers to rehearse together until there is a COVID-19 vaccine and a 95% effective treatment in place, .... (estimated as) at least 18-24 mont

What does love look like, now? During this time of global pandemic, when the models that our government is looking at project that by June, we could be experiencing 3,000 deaths per day? There are people who do not have choices. For financial reasons or a commitment to the common welfare of others, they must go to work. What do we owe them? How do we show that we honor the sacrifice they are making, the risks they must take? How do we show them love? Throughout history, people have shown their love for humankind through action - marching for their rights, serving others, caring for each other in tangible ways. Now we are in a time that asks us to do the exact opposite. We are asked, those of us who can, to stay at home. To be apart from one another. To honor barriers and boundaries, 6 foot of space at a time, with masks shielding our smiles. In the sermon "Loving Your Enemies," Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of agape love. "Agape is something of the und

When "All in the Family" debuted, Archie Bunker was intended to be a straw man, a bigot that everyone would look at with ridicule. But instead, many people cheered him on. In the "Avenger" movies, there is a character named Thanos who plots to make 1/2 of the universe disappear. Poof, gone. What is heartbreaking to face is that during this time of coronavirus, we have people who would cheer Thanos on, in the hopes that they would be the lucky ones left, and there would be more wealth and resources for them. (I guess these are the same people cheer for the religious idea that only a select group of people will get salvation.) Some of these people are government leaders. And we must face head-on that for some of these leaders, the fact that the elderly, the poor, people of color, will die is, in their minds, "a feature, not a flaw" of the virus. But there are more of us. When Ken Turnage II, chairman of the city planning commission of Antioch,

To become a Unitarian Universalist fellowshipped minister requires doing at least one unit of CPE - Clinical Pastoral Education. During that time, you're learning and working as a chaplain.  We had regular chapel services that included the communion ritual of bread and grape juice. Not being a Christian, I did not partake, but I appreciated the ritual, especially one part that is not the norm, unless you are in a hospital setting. There would be two chaplains in their priestly role. They would say the traditional words, serve each other communion, then invite those who wished to come forward.  But right before that, the two of them would pause at the communion table for the hand sanitizer. They made it part of the ritual, so that patients could see them cleaning their hands for the safety of the patients.  And I was just entranced by that. Something so ordinary, becoming a visual symbolic act of love and care. Before the words for the breaking of bread, "this is my (Jesus'

Looking around the messy space in my home that is now office, study, film soundstage, editing room, meeting room, and lunch counter, I realized that it is one snapshot of ministerial life in the time of covid-19. A photographic relic. So here's mine, (panoramic shot), messy as it is, annotated for future generations. What's yours? Not just ministers. Those who are newly working from home. Put a link in comments. 1) Bag of items from minister's study at the church, brought home once it became apparent this was going to last a while. Some additional theology books, anything edible from my cabinets. Still not cleaned out, after a month. 2) Application for Texas mail-in ballot in case the courts uphold expanded mail-in voting because of coronavirus. 3) Pile of books to put laptop computer on, so people aren't forced to look up my nose in meetings. 4) Lifeline to the church I serve - my laptop. When I bumped it last week, I suddenly realized that's it's