mUUsing

Finding the Sacred In Nature

2012-01-26T14:30:00.001-08:00

I grew up in Irmo, South Carolina which is a suburb of Columbia. Despite being in a suburb, I was lucky to have miles of woods behind my house. Early in life I grasped a sense of the sacred in nature. I sensed something unspoken in the whisper of pines as my eyes peered up at the sky through needles and filtered sunlight. I felt something magical as I broke across the rising mist in early morning walks in the bend of the Broad river. I didn't need any complicated theology to see the divine and the good in life in those moments. I could hear frogs and crickets in the evenings. I spent sun-burnt summer days building forts, and playing flash light tag among the fireflies and pines. My favorite time in the woods was to make my way to the river just as the sun broke the sky, and the mist still cast mysterious coverings against the trees. I would sit on river rocks, mindless of moccasins or the rush of the river. I look back on those wild moments of my childhood and taste a freedom I struggle to find again.

There was some elemental understanding of my connection with those woods, that river, and the pulse of life. Time was measured in how far the sun had risen in the sky, not the constant checking of cell phones and calendars. I would come home baked in mud, my mom would hose us down before she'd let my sister and I back into the house. These were simple joys and beautiful days.

Water, earth, air, fire – and spirit. So elemental and basic, yet we lose touch behind our computer screens and the pace of a hurried life. It is easy to think that we can separate ourselves, and remove ourselves from the cycles of nature. Yet, the hurricane reminds us. The rainbow reminds us. We must be reminded of our sacred connection, if we can possibly hope to find some balance in our life on this small, blue planet.

Every small action of conservation and thoughtful choice that we take in remembrance of our sacred relationship is a hopeful action.

Whether we stand in the ancient shadow of redwoods or listen to the whispering wind in a pine tree forest, it is hard to not have gratitude for the offerings of nature. Trees give shade, offer places for nests, fruit and sustenance, and hold the soil together against the rush of storm and water. Like mother's milk, our rivers course from the water's source at the tops of mountain peaks and trickle down to oceans and lakes.

Take time in this season of winter to take in the beauty of Carson Park or go for a walk by the river.

Vietnamese Buddhist Monk, Thich Nhat Hahn said, “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”

We won't find the same miracles behind the glass of our windshield or stuck to our computer as we will find in seeing the arc of an eagle's flight. Our lives are so much more beautiful and rich when we can connect with the beauty and awe of the natural world. These are the moments we remember and that can bring us deep peace and joy.

Matter of Faith: We must welcome the stranger

2011-08-03T14:20:00.000-07:00

Many faith traditions remind us to welcome the stranger. Yet how big is the welcome table in a post-Sept. 11 world? How welcoming are faith communities when we are divided along political, theological and social lines?

It takes building relationships, opening hearts and practicing welcome to offer a place where people can seek their truth in love. For myself as a Unitarian Universalist, welcome is the highest practice of honoring the sanctity and inherent worth of others.

How we welcome others defines our community - whether it is our family, friends or spiritual community.

It takes a risk to welcome people different than ourselves, yet when we do we are invited into new experiences and relationship.

Many faiths have tenets about welcoming the stranger. For some Christians welcome is embodied in the practice of open or common table, where all persons are welcomed to communion. This embodies the welcome of Jesus for the stranger and marginalized.

The Quran tells us, "It is righteousness to give of yourself and your substance, out of love for Allah, to your kin, to orphans, to the needy, to the wayfarer, to those who ask, and for the ransom of slaves ..." The Hindu scripture Taitiriya Upanishad tells us, "The guest is a representative of God."

A humanist might say that welcoming the stranger recognizes the inherent worth of all persons. An earth-centered standpoint might recognize that we are infinitely interrelated on a soul level with one another - even with the trees and earth that shelter and support us. On a given Sunday in a Unitarian Universalist congregation - whether atheist or Christian, gay or straight - we come together in community.

Yet welcome is a two-way street, and the respect goes both ways. The Catholic theologian Henri Nouwen said, "We are not hospitable when we leave our house to strangers and let them use it any way they want. An empty house is not a hospitable house ... When we want to be really hospitable, we not only have to receive strangers but also to confront them by unambiguous presence, showing our ideas, opinions and lifestyles clearly and distinctly."

Welcome extends inwardly as well as outwardly and must take into account safety, congregational covenant, and honoring all persons.

We must move beyond our comfort zones, enter into challenging conversations and challenge ourselves to think about who is really welcome into our lives. When we truly welcome the stranger, we invite ourselves into deeper relationship with the holy. We cross the artificial divides of belief and background and reach toward the sanctity of our shared humanity

The Hard Road of Compassion

2011-07-28T07:36:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday I guest preached at White Bear Church on the topic of choosing awareness. I cited great thinkers like Pema Chodron and Thich Nhat Han. The idea is that if we can choose awareness to our lives and others. As we practice awareness our compassion increases and hopefully the actions of compassion follow.

Upon travelling we had left our newly adopted cat in the care of my Mother-in-law for the weekend.

We adopted Chewy and Obi from the local shelter a few weeks back. These were young cats with lots of energy and health. After a week or so, Chewy began to have signs of an eye infection. I thought it was a blocked tear duct so I tried to massage it and hoped it would clear. As it moved to both eyes we took him to the vet. He had also begun to show signs of lethargy. We were shocked when he turned up with a 104 temperature and dehydration. The vet gave him the works in major antibiotics, hydrated him with a water bag, and took tests.

The eye infection did not clear with eye drops and antibiotics. By last weekend we were very concerned about his health, he barely moved or ate. We thought he was battling the fever and tried to treat his symptoms. Upon our return from White Bear he appeared to have only improved some and yet his eyes were still infected. They took tests and eventually called back to let us know that he had strong signs of Feline Infectious Peritontis. This vibrant and loving cat who was not quite a year old was given a fatal diagnosis. We could expect him to deteriorate and have a painful death, made comfortable perhaps by drugs. He would live uncomfortably for perhaps a few weeks and months.

We made the best choice we knew to make. We chose to give Chewy a peaceful ending. Based on the advice of our vet and the information we found this was the best way we knew to exercise our love for our new family member.

Writing my sermon last week I did not know that we'd be practicing a hard form of loving kindness. It is a terrible choice and power to end life as a compassionate act. It feels kind in action, but oh so hard on the inside. We played and loved on him this morning. My five-year old hugged him and tagged him with string. My soon to be eight-year old said that he would keep him in his heart for the rest of his life.

Life is suffering, but certainly there is also joy in these moments. There is joy in the purr of loving cat. There is grace in the wisdom of children.

General Assembly

2011-06-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

As a movement we continue to struggle between rationale religion and the deep calls of emotive heart-felt spirituality. Nick Page and the youth bridging service both captured the rich promise of moving and deep worship while still balancing our diversty of belief. The future of Unitarian Universalism lies in this balance. This is not the wintry words of 60's humanism nor blind emotionalism...this is the evolution of our movement into realizing the relational quality of religion. This will be the future of UUiism.
....And the peoplen said AMEN.

Top 10 Count Down of First Year in Ministry

2011-06-07T13:49:00.000-07:00

First year of ministry in Eau Claire

#10 I know what dessert bars,
walleye, and hot dish mean. Ken
Adler, an umbrella will not keep
snow off my head. I can get my kids to school in snow
pants, boots, hats, gloves, and ready to survive -20.
#9 Learning how to walk, drive, and live in snow, ice,
and below zero temperatures. Snow is heavy; not
light and fluffy to shovel. Southerners can do it!
#8 The people here in Eau Claire are awesome.
#7 The unfolding process of learning how to be a
multigenerational congregation.
#6 Wednesday night services and dinners. (The skit
about the Lepps - Tom with a fake moustache was
hilarious!)
#5 La Befana, Fire Communion and other fantastic
multigenerational services
#4 Experiencing the Harvest Auction!
#3 Doing the Cupid Shuffle at the youth group lockin.
I was so relevant!
#2 Twenty-two inches of snow and we still had
service! We were one of the few congregations in
town still conducting services. Take that snow and
cold!
#1 Being ordained and installed as Lifespan Minister
in November 2010.

SUMMER AND AWAY!

I will be focusing on rest and renewal during my time off. Part of being a good minister is to have time for study, reflection, and writing. This summer I will be attending General Assembly, studying and writing in preparation for next year's sermons and Lifespan Sundays(Children's Chapel), and also some personal spiritual retreat. I will be going South for both General Assembly and to celebrate my nephew's graduation from High School. Our family is also excited to be camping at Edisto Beach in South Carolina this June. I will be away from June 6th-July 26th.

The Buddha said, "Just as a candle cannot burn without fire, men(women)
cannot live without a spiritual life." Play is important spiritual work! Play in the sand, watch a movie, and perhaps even finger paint. Find what healthfully feeds your soul and do it!

On the Death of Osama Bin Laden

2011-05-02T13:26:00.000-07:00

I remember crying and grieving for days at the destruction and loss of Sept 11th, 2001. Yet I can not understand the cheering in the streets for the death of a man. I mourn the loss of any life, even that of a killer. I hope that we can condemn the actions of persons, without rejoicing when more violence is taken. Dr. King said it best.

((Edit))
Unknown author, "I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars."

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
--Martin Luther King, Jr

Flower Communion and Family

2011-04-24T16:43:00.000-07:00

Today was my first Flower Communion in Eau Claire. We had a lovely ceremonial procession of bringing the flowers forward in a Spring Display and later in the service picking a flower brought by someone else.

This was a different Flower Communion than other years. This was my first Flower Communion as the minister of my own congregation. I also had a sense of the true meaning of Spring. There was real joy on the faces of these Wisconsiners as they paraded with their Spring bounty. In Georgia we appreciated the flowers, but I had not been through a long, hard winter. This was one hard winter. Can you say 22 inches of snowfall in one day! It was a balmy 60 degrees here in Eau Claire and beautiful.

My husband brought a vase for us to carry our flowers to and from church today. This is much more practical than my typical wet paper towel handling of Flower Communion flowers. We took our vase out to lunch with us after service. Our waitress noticed how lovely the flowers were and we admired them with her. It was then we noticed how different all of our flowers are. Each flower speaks a lot about each member of our family. Karl picked roses, which his grandfather was famous for growing. Kiernan, my super creative ballet boy, chose a very tall and bright yellow daisy. Ehren, who is all sports and boy, picked a blue flower. I picked the sad little yellow flower that someone had dropped and a few people had stepped on.

We carry our flowers and remember Spring. We carry our differences and they are also beautiful.

Standing on the Side of Love In Madison

2011-03-04T18:48:00.000-08:00

On Saturday February 26th I drove up to Madison with a fellow minister from Eau Claire. We were travelling to meet other clergy to lend a faithful voice to the protests against Governor Walker's "Budget Repair Bill." We arrived to the streets filled with signs and energy. We missed our rendezvous with the other clergy that were starting the march, because there was no where to park. Eventually we took refuge in a church parking lot with the hope that they would faithfully not tow us! We wandered past a great diversity of protestors winding their way through the streets up towards the Capitol.

I have been a part of many different protests, but this was by far the largest. There are estimates that the crowds reached between 75,000 and 100,000. Yet in those crowds we were able to find our fellow clergy. I also found a fellow UU from a Madison church and this is how I came to hold our slogan sign of "Standing on the Side of Love." There were fireman, teachers, janitors, and artists. There were children, college students, and clergy. A diversity of voices rose that Saturday in the falling snow. It was a moving experience to be united in the demand for justice. It was a moving experience to see the peaceful way that my fellow protestors treated one another.

Justice with dignity and truth is faithful. We have to keep being faithful. We have to keep standing, shouting, and singing with our brothers and sisters. This is not about a budget. This about busting the rights of workers and not coming to the table. When you are talking about families, jobs, and education it can not be a zero sum game. There is too much to lose. There is too much to fight for.

Worker's Rights

2011-02-16T19:41:00.000-08:00

Dear Governor Walker: Sacrificing freedoms does not balance the budget. Conservatives and liberals are agreeing on this one.

Budget cuts are different than abolishing the rights of workers to collectively bargain. Let's not cloud the issue. This is an attack on freedom of assembly.

I was happy to atttend the Eau Claire County Board meeting where they passed a resolution against Walker's bill. I was proud to stand with teachers, fellow people of faith, and others that believe that a budget is not balanced on the backs of public workers and workers' rights.

A Crack in the World

2011-02-01T01:12:00.000-08:00

A Crack in the World
where the pain and beauty lie, bare and unafraid
A Crack in the World
where politicians dream and empires are made

There is that fulcrum of experience that breaks the facade
There is that point of tipping when
the cards topple and
the hand is played.

MLK Day: "Life's most persistent and urgent question is: 'What are you doing for others?'" - Martin Luther King Jr.

2011-01-16T09:51:00.001-08:00

Tommorow will be the first time in a number of years that I won't be marching in Atlanta for MLK Day. It always struck me as interesting that the majority of faith representation that made up the march were primarily socially active seminary students of all denominations, African American Baptist Churches and Unitarians. You'd see social justice groups, bands, and schools, but the representation of faith communities in Atlanta was not as inspiring.

Though there are lots of ways to honor the dreams of Dr. King for beloved community. I think half the battle is getting past apathy and showing up. Public witness has many forms: marching, letter writing, voting, and service among others.

My college town in Wisconsin does not have a large march through the city or a big hubub about this day. In fact schools are still in session, except for the University.

One of my congregants did invite me to an event that helps people tap into community justice opportunities. Justice does not happen with only words and feet, it has to happen with working hands. This year I'll be attending Martin Luther King Jr. Day of Service at the Community Table. I look forward to connecting with others in thinking about how simple acts of service can change lives. When a community comes together to think and work on equity in housing and wages, food distribution, and the basic needs of fellow beings then perhaps we are moving in the right direction. Dr Cornel West said, "Justice is what love looks like in public." May we work together to keep strong in the practice of love, justice, and most of all - showing up.

Civil Public Discourse: A response to the shooting of Congresswoman Giffords

2011-01-09T11:53:00.000-08:00

When you put a political opponent in the cross hairs of a gun, when you encourage people to "reload" there is a direct violent message delivered. Let us not mince words. The incindiary right has been frothing at the mouth and riling people up. There is a point when freedom of speech moves to incitement. I am wondering when that point will be observed?

There is a need for civil public discource in the media, in politics, and goodness knows in every community. Between Fox news and their "fair and balanced" reporting (see Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin) and infammatory Tea Party remarks there is little surprise that there has been political violence. If we appeal to the base instincts of fear and "othering" how do you think people will respond? When our president is painted as everything but "American" anger is incited.

Napolean Bonaparte has a remarkly true quote, "In politics stupidity is not a handicap."

We have to move away from this zero sum game of winner takes all politics. If we can not talk with one another, we can not work together. If violence becomes the accepted and promoted language of politics, it will foster violence.

You might be a "mama minister" when...

2011-01-08T16:51:00.000-08:00

you write your sermon on the couch while cheering for a lego Star Wars game.

A Homemade Holiday

2010-12-02T23:29:00.000-08:00

We are going to experience our first snow during the holidays here in Wisconsin. I have to say hearing the Christmas carols near Thanksgiving at least felt more authentic in the frozen Midwest as opposed to the balmy South. Still I hate this rush to move from holiday to holiday. The retail stores seem to lay in wait like a cat ready to pounce on every ounce of holiday sentiment they can wring out of you. It doesn't matter if it is Christmas, Hannukah, Solstice or Kawanza, retailers are equal oppurtunity exploiters. The more holidays people celebrate the more target audiences it seems.

With that in mind, I was almost relieved when my husband had discovered he'd left all of our boxes of decorations at his mother's house. We had managed to get the tree up, but had no lights or ornaments to decorate with. So my oldest son and I got to work. Thanks to some quick searches for printable ornaments we got some neat Celtic designs, some snowflakes, bells and other cool designs. He spent a good bit of time coloring and I did a little coloring of celtic knots myself. Afterwards we found some of our card board recycling and cut backing for the ornaments. With a little glue, creative hole punching and yarn we had wonderful and inspired ornaments. To add a little more shiny to the tree I also pulled out some of our antique cookie cutters and hung them on the tree with yarn.

This is our first tree without some lights and ornaments with "history." We haven't yet hung out strings of popcorn and cranberry, but we've found our own simplicity and satisfaction in decorating. It feels simple, homemade, and not the product of some retail design. My son is very proud of his efforts and has claimed them for his own one day. This is one small way we are bringing more Light back into our holiday festivities!

Do you have Snow-fu?

2010-11-16T13:56:00.001-08:00

We are the proud new owners of snow shovels. A big one for Karl and I and two small ones for the boys. So far I have been assured that a snow blower may only be necessary once or twice a year. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts on that, if you have snow-fu. Snow-fu is like Kung Fu only you kick butt with your knowledge of winter.

One day I will too have Snow-Fu. First I must ice on and ice off. Second I must survive one Wisconsin winter. Third I will learn when to plant bulbs before the freeze. There are probably steps I am missing.

I love Eau Claire. Yes, I am a South Carolina girl wondering where you put your shoes when you walk around in snow boots. Do you carry them in a bag?

Ordination

2010-11-11T14:24:00.000-08:00

Standing before the world
Standing before the precipice
It is the moment of recognition
The moment of waiting has ended
Ministry is here and now
The hands have touched your forehead
The hands have reached from one to the other
From young to old, large to small - we are reaching
reaching to ordain a person
reaching to the world with another clear call
that there is work to do
that there is brokenness
there is healing in one more hand
one more light
one more voice

This call is a moment in time
but the call echoes onward
to be answered and heeded
and ever remembered.

The Holidays don't wait.

2010-11-07T05:42:00.001-08:00

My kids don't get the gimmes from commercials, they grab the circulars from Toys R Us from the Sunday paper apparently. They are circling toys they want right now. There is no escape!

Ordination and Installation

2010-11-02T18:33:00.000-07:00

Sunday at 4PM I will start a service as Julianne and end it as Rev. Julianne Lepp - the installed minister of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Eau Claire.

Congregational bathrooms have been remodelled, my diploma is being hung and I have new shelves for my office. There is a new sign front with the chalice designed for my ordination theme. There are so many changes and yet there are services beyond this one that need planning and meetings, of course. There are children that need to go to bed on time and homework that needs checking. So many checks and balances in this rich life.

The planning for this has been much like a wedding. We will have flowers and music. We have guest lists and people descending from many places. It will be holy. It will be lovely.

This is everything I have prepared for these years of seminary, internship, and chaplaincy. I am prepared, yet I will not know fully that path until I stand there. I will not know that charge until I hear it. I will not know that mantle until it is given.

What Would John (Lennon) Do? WWJD?

2010-10-09T11:37:00.000-07:00

We are all born in the miraculous circumstance of birth, tears, and that first breath and wail to the world.

Hopefully our births are accompanied by loving voices and soft light. In an almost prophetic nod to his future peace work John Lennon was born amid the noise of Hitler's bombs and was serenaded air raid sirens. His mother also gave him the middle name Winston in tribute to Prime Minister Churchill. The Liverpool docklands were a primary target for Germany's Luftwaffe. Air raids were commonplace and sirens wailed warning of an attack on the 9th October, 1940 as Julia Lennon gave birth to John Lennon. Night after night German bombs rained down on Liverpool and often Julia, her newborn baby and her family took refuge in a nearby makeshift bomb shelter. John Lennon's Aunt Mimi ran to the event of his birth ignoring the bombastic dangers. She said, "I knew the moment I first set eyes on John that he was going to be something special."

John Lennon has been mythologized and canonized in both life and death. Yet the break up of the Beatles was often embodied by childish aggression. Despite being a childhood bully, making fun of those with disabilities, an avowed womanizer, aggressive and jealous in his relationships and a general jerk in many ways- John Lennon was also a talented cartoonist, brilliant musician and song writer, a creative visionary, and one would even say a prophetic voice for peace and justice. He definitely walked the flawed walk of many tragic heroes. Though John Lennon was not imbued with supernatural powers, he and the Beatles earned the love and admiration of a generation in the 60's. In an article written about Lennon by Martin Lewis he said, “The appreciation for him deepened because he decided to use his celebrity as a bully pulpit for causes greater than his own enrichment and self-aggrandizement. For several key years in the late 60's and early 70's, Lennon and Yoko Ono turned their lives into a virtual “Truman Show” to promote the issues they believed in.”

There is the Lennon legacy of an astonishing body of music. Lennon was unafraid to explore his struggles with jealousy, suicidal depression, and even heroin addiction in the later song “Cold Turkey.” After the painful revelations of scream therapy, he also spoke of relationships. In the song Mother he said in plain heartbreaking words, “Mother...you had me..but I never had you, I needed you – but you didn't need me.” He set in the music a repeating plea of Mama don't go and Daddy come home. Those plain howls of pain had not been heard in popular music. In his history of interviews and relationships John Lennon was an achingly honest kind of guy. He later regretted some of his honesty and accessibility in interviews. Yet in the latter stages of his career by choosing to set his life and music in the stage of art, Lennon seemed to make a conscious decision to live in the raw moment of truth and revelation. Lennon said, “You're just left with yourself all the time, whatever you do anyway. You've got to get down to your own God in your own temple. It's all down to you, mate.”

I think the best heroes are the ones that inspire us to find our own inner hero. The hero that calls us to something greater and larger than ourselves, multiplies their own actions and the affects ripple onward and onward. When we move beyond looking for a savior – we might just save ourselves – and who know's - maybe the world.
John Lennon's song God called this out, He sang

God is a Concept by which
we measure our pain
I'll say it again
God is a Concept by which
we measure our pain
I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-ching
I don't believe in Bible
I don't believe in Tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in Mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't believe in Yoga
I don't believe in Kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me...and that reality

At the core of his seeking, John Lennon called us to become our own hero. He called us to wake and tune in. He called us to save ourselves from our own lethargy. John looked for “The Answer”in music,through teachers, lust and conquests, through drugs, through gurus and pilgrimages, and material pleasure. Ultimately in the throes of painful therapy, I believe John Lennon boiled it down to himself. He had to find the answer within before he could truly act in the world with integrity.
John Lennon was certainly a hero for many. He inspired many.

On December 16th 1969 huge billboards appeared in Times Square New York, London, Paris, Los Angeles, Rome, Athens, Berlin, Montreal, Tokyo, and Port of Spain, Trinidad spelling out in plain black type “WAR IS OVER if you want it, Happy Christmas, John and Yoko.
We ask, “What Would John Lennon Do?”
All You Need is Love....All You Need is Love..Love...Love is all you Need

Piedmont Park was covered with something besides pollen one hot day this summer. Youths, parents, and activists marched, sang, and supported the gay and Jewish community with signs saying “God loves Glitter” and “Peace, Love, and Tolerance.” Of course, we had our Standing on the Side of Love signs! I saw some fellow seminary students carried signs saying “God is love!”
Thursday afternoon a lot of teens from Grady High School in Atlanta and community activists converged into a wonderful counter-witness to the hate-filled messages of Westboro Baptist Church. The church members had horrible signs, “God Hates Jews”, “Fags Hate God”, and other horrible language. A youth from Grady High School found out that Westboro would be protesting at their school so she helped to organize a counter-protest. Over 800 people responded on Facebook and there were hundreds that came.

We took this moment to bring our Standing on the Side of Love signs and join other faith groups, local teens, and activist in a peaceful witness to love. It was a great day to see the power of all ages and types of people coming together in spite of hate. It was a testament to the power of people gathered in the name of love.

What Would John Do? All I can do is think that he would not stand silent. He would still be witnessing to that inner struggle for truth and The Answer that he sought for so long. I think John would not be silent on the Gulf. I imagine he would support the right for all to marry. I would hope that he would have kept creating, inspiring, loving,and acting from the core of his not so perfect being.

All we need is love. Imagine. Give Peace a Change. Come Together...Right Now. May it be so.

Reflections on Yom Kippur

2010-09-19T19:39:00.000-07:00

The sound of the shofar is synonymous with Yom Kippur. For me, the sound says "Pay Attention!"

Think of a moment recent or far past that you have paused to listen. Think of a moment when you have paused at all, paused to hear that inner voice – paused to recognize the holy - - paused to recognize the man beside you, the child within you, the brush of grass against your skin. In these moments we glimpse something beyond a blinking screen or quick sound bite. We connect. We are a part of something bigger. It takes these moments to move to deeper moments or we are stuck in perpetual shallow living. We are stuck in the wants of now and a land of no regret. I know that can be an easy place to reside, but it does not deepen and indeed leads to eventual pain.

Yom Kippur is a time of concentration on the past so that the future may have better return. Yom Kippur calls persons to look beyond simply becoming better individuals, but also becoming a better human community.

If you have done a wrong, ask forgiveness. If you can find forgiveness for others, give it. We are connected in relationships of all kinds. We have neighbors, friends, teachers, co-workers, children, lovers.

We all have behaviors that we can examine. I can think of so many things about which I could ask forgiveness, yet I often let them pass. I could ask my children to forgive my impatience after a long day. I could ask my dog Baldur to forgive me for not walking him as often as he needs. Yet if I am too busy writing my sermon, posting on Facebook, and doing everything but paying attention to the persons I am with, then I miss this opportunity. I miss an opportunity to connect.

I am missing the holy.

2010-09-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

Beneath a dream in time
She scatters her words like breadcrumbs on a swirling current

Eyelids close and she whispers her face towards the sun
for that one moment of innocence
that one frozen time in the spotlight

Water colors
Sprinklers
a summer without borders

Beneath a dream in time
She pushes the overstuffed stroller

A child strapped in
A life strapped together

This moment in time.
When another face meets hers. Eyelashes flutter like hot feet on a
sidewalk

looking for a stray sprinkler.

What I miss...What I love...

2010-08-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

I remember the "What I love...What I miss..." game from my childhood. There always seemed to be a need to make lists, distinctions and categories when I was younger. Perhaps I need that boundary now. A new ministry is such a change and such a transition that maybe checking a few boxes is a healthy thing.

What I miss about Atlanta is -

Twelve years of relationships and community
Familiarity
A great chiropractor, pediatrician, and dentist
comfortable connections
Blackberry mead
My spiritual places of renewal
Dogwood trees
sweet tea!!

What I love about Eau Claire is -

I can get anywhere in less than 15 minutes
A fantastic farmer's market
the warm people
my new Credit Union
My lovely congregation -the people - the building
I have the best office manager EVER
The Episcopal church bells that ring RIGHT in the middle of annoucements on Sunday morning. OK - I love them every time, but then.

I know what cheese curds and walleye are now. I like cheese curds. I haven't been brave enough to try walleye yet.

A Prayer of Welcome

2010-08-16T17:12:00.000-07:00

When you are called unworthy
When you are called unreliable
When you stand at the edge

You are Welcome

When you need community
When you need silence
When you want to sing high

You are Welcome

When no one meets your eyes
When no one calls your name
When you need a door to open

You are Welcome

When you reach for peace
When you reach for a hand
When you need to open a door

You are Welcome

We have all been strangers
We have all needed welcome
We all need to hear the words

You are Welcome

For those in Arizona...

2010-07-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

We light a candle for our fellow UU's and protestors that sit in jail tonight in Arizona. We also light a candle for those that will be arrested with little press and fanfare - those whose rights are jeopardized and unrecognized. We light a candle that each voice raised in hope will make a difference, just enough of a difference to dowse the voice of hate...the voice of oppression...and the power of apathy.

As UU's we live our values in the world, because we can do no less. Rise up, speak out, and be the change in the world. We can do no less and there is a need for so much.

The spiritual practice of moving

2010-07-19T19:31:00.000-07:00

I had imagined that moving was going to be rigorous and would pull all those lazy scholar muscles that have not been in use during seminary. Moving has also moved my mind. It has moved my social location. It has moved my imagination and even my dreams. This has been wonderful and disorienting, sad and exciting. Humans are such a bundle of contradictions.

Boxes are piled to the ceiling around my head and the accomplishment of the day is having a clean kitchen counter. The spiritual accomplishment is a sense of cleaning out. I am cleaning out old things. I am reviewing old letters. I am letting go and holding on. There this tug of new and old and it feels right. It feels like positive growth.

Bless these changes. Bless my hands for lifting and carrying and letting go. Bless all those who make this possible.

The Question of Salvation....

2010-07-07T06:15:00.000-07:00

Since Unitarian Universalism does not approach faith from a foundational set of truths, I believe the concept of salvation can be observed in the practice and values of the community. It is witnessed by the life of faith community, how it worships, how the community is self-governed, and how the community carries its faith into the world. Unitarian Universalism is a faith community that upholds the tenets of interdependence and the inherent worth of every person in word and in practice. Unitarian Universalist congregations are highly covenanted communities. While the individual faith and life journey is upheld, it is upheld within the idea of a world community that rises or falls together. There is a recognition of intimate interconnectedness to the whole of life and the importance of each individual that makes the whole. The seventh principle of Unitarian Universalism is the respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. This makes an argument for remodeling a salvation framework that is not individual, but based on the interrelatedness and ultimately the interdependence of the community.

A sermon on the topic -

Dancing on Daddy's Feet

2010-06-17T06:07:00.000-07:00

Dancing On Daddy's Feet - in honor of upcoming Father's Day

(Excerpted from a Father's Day sermon I delivered two years ago)

According to Hallmark research there are 102 million cards in circulation about now – that is the number of Father’s Day cards expected to be given this year in the United States, making Father’s Day the fifth-largest card-sending occasion. I remember asking my mom, when I was little, why there wasn't a “Children's Day?” Her predictable response was that everyday is Children's Day. She said moms, dads, and grandparents deserve one day of the year that they get a special day. The idea of Father’s Day was conceived by Sonora Dodd of Spokane, Washington, while she listened to a Mother’s Day sermon in 1909, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Dodd wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart, a widowed Civil War veteran who was left to raise his six children on a farm. A day in June was chosen for the first Father’s Day celebration—June 19, 1910, proclaimed by Spokane’s mayor because it was the month of William Smart’s birth.

Dodd corrected the imbalance of honoring fathers, by communicating her support for her father as an important part of her life. Society has often relegated dads to the back of the parenting wagon.The tranformation of expectation of fathers in the twentieth century alone was tremendous. There is an expectation that fathers participate more in the process of raising children and be more involved in the day-to-day family life. Sometimes the role of nurturer is blended when the dad assumes more of the traditional care roles, and the other parent works. There are families where both parents are dads – how does the expectation appear then? I find it strange that while society has slowly moved the image and expectation of fatherhood more in sync family rhythms, children's toys still reflect a bias that girls will nurture and that boys will do. I want to see more boys' family life toys. If we want men that can nurture, then let us nurture that.

Expectation can be detrimental when communication or action doesn't happen. From the book “A Chosen Faith: An Introduction To Unitarian Universalism,” John Buehrens recounts the first Thanksgiving that he and his wife Gwen celebrated. He thought there were too many people, too many friends, and too much food. Gwen seemed to think it wasn't enough, not enough people, not enough recipes – she didn't want anything ommited. He had been asked to carve the turkey, something he had never done before. With good humor, he donned his apron and went to it. Much to his unhappiness his later reward was his wife bursting into tears. In her family the turkey was brought to the table and laid before the paterfamilias, grace is said, and then is carved. John cut it up in the kitchen. In response to his wife's tears John hollered, “So I fail patriarchy, what do you expect?” What a terrific question! What is expected of men, of fathers?

There are an estimated 66.3 million fathers in the United States today. What does that look like? We've all seen the commercials, the ideal portrayal of the involved dad, or the successful dad. What is the real picture of fatherhood? Is it the classic tale of throwing the football with the kids in the backyard and the white-toothed grinning dad who's grilling burgers on the back deck? Is fatherhood the single dad trying to get off in time to make his daughter's PTA meeting? Currently there are 2.3 million single dads with children under 18, up from 400,000 in 1970. Among single parents living with their children, 18 percent are men. What about the stay- at-home dad that organizes his kid's activities through his Blackberry? There are an estimated 143,000 “stay-at-home” dads. Fatherhood is not one stereotype or picture.

Then there are the dads that the media has given us. We've had iconic dads like Steve Douglas on My Three Sons to horrific nightmare dads like Darth Vader. There were the '70s dads Archie Bunker and George Jefferson. In the 1980's there was Al Bundee or even more underwhelming, Homer Simpson. Of course, let's not forget Doctor Huckstable from the Cosby Show. Looking at Frazier from the 90's or more recent shows, they seem to focus on the cute family dysfunction. Yet, love or saving action somehow brings them back together. Do happy endings come at the end of every episode? Is this fatherhood?

One literary depiction of fatherhood is in a book that my son got for his birthday called “And Tango Makes Three.” This children's book is based on the true story of Roy and Silo, two male Chinstrap Penguins in New York's Central Park Zoo. These same-sexed penguins formed a couple. The pair were observed trying to hatch a rock that resembled an egg. When zookeepers realized that Roy and Silo were both male and could have no viable egg between them, it occurred to them to give them the second egg of a mixed-sex penguin couple. The egg was from a couple which had previously been unable to successfully hatch two eggs at once. Roy and Silo hatched and raised the healthy young chick, a female named "Tango" by keepers, together as a family. This was one of the most controversial books in 2006. Schools tried to get parents to have to sign permission slips for children to read it, and one school moved it to the restricted section.

What about historical father figures? We have Ralph Waldo Emerson, who lost his father at eight and who's own son died at the age of five. He experienced many losses in his life – the loss of his first young wife caused him great spiritual upheaval. I think that this must have colored his parenting and his strong desire for inner strength, personal accountability and rugged individualism. Look at a different historical figure, Joseph Kennedy, who was the strong patriarchal presence of the famous Kennedy family. Having descended from poor irish immigrants, he had ambitiously made it to “the top” and pushed his children towards success. The drives of parents color the formation of their children.

We have all carried baggage from our parents at some time or another. Parents and parenting can certainly be a loaded subject. I actually had three father figures. As many of us have learned either by receiving or doing, there is no perfect parent. Parenting is a akin to mad science: you try different hypothises, add a touch of discipline to the beaker, with a dose of common sense, and a big splash of love, and see what happens... Parenting is messy, because our lives are messy. What works with the first child bombs with the second, and life circumstances change. A job is lost or relationships are strained; the love boat has crashed into a large ice block. We have dads that are involved, those that are over-involved, and those might be absent. With any parent, mother or father, the degrees of skill and presence vary.

Parenting is magical. Your day can be transformed by the transcendent mind of a four-year-old. One morning, I was having a lousy slow-to-wake morning after being up all night with Ehren and my oldest completely turned me around. After breakfast, Kiernan starts serenading me from the kitchen with his homemade "Ballet on Ice" song. He informs me that the kitchen floor is an ice rink and begins twirling and singing. After a few minutes of some lovely twirling he grabs his dump truck. He rides the dump truck rather elegantly, while singing and "dancing" in the truck. He says he has hurt his leg, but he's still doing ballet on ice via his truck. The gift of children is a ticket of transformation and invite into worlds we might only touch when we can shed our adult lens for a while.

Parenting requires some creative conversations. My husband Karl was talking to our four year old son, Kiernan about an eighty-two year old man that had died, and how it was a sad thing. Kiernan promptly announced that he wanted to be 82. Age and death aren't the easiest topic to communicate with pre-schoolers, though the topic had been broached before. Karl explained to Kiernan how long it would take for him to become eighty-two and that he is ten times as old as Kiernan. This caused some thought, and Kiernan looked up at Karl and asked if he would die when he was eighty two? I was glad I wasn't the target for this question, because it is hard to know how to give an answer that is both honest and well-targeted to what a young person can both appreciate and understand. Karl was honest and said that it could happen that late or earlier. Kiernan thought about it, and said “Daddy that's okay. Because you'll be in my dreams just like Yaya.” Yaya is my mom that Kiernan didn't meet because she passed away in 2000. Kiernan has had several dreams about my mother, so that has opened up the words and dialogue we use for life after death conversations.

The largest expectation I looked to in my father figures was safety and protection. In the chaos of my early years, I wanted stability and that was hard to find sometimes. One of my favorite memories as a child was walking on feet. I did this with my dad, my step dad, with my brother and whomever would let me glide on them. I felt like I was riding a giant and I remember feeling very protected and literally uplifed. Dancing on Daddy's feet, didn't have to be my daddy – it was that lighter than air feeling of being in concert with a male figure in my life. It was someone who cared enough to have a tomboy girl, barefoot and grimy-toed dance with her for a while. Those were the moments that made my heart fill up.

Children are not the only ones with expectations. Parents have their share. How we parent at twenty-something can differ greatly after a decade. The expectations of a parent for the first child often differ from the last born. As we age, our relationships with parents hopefully shift to friendship. Though our expectations can get caught in place. We might have trouble adapting our stories about how our parents fit into our lives or we in theirs. Our family of origin can become the binding glue of our ongoing relationship patterns with our own children, our spouses, or how we engage in friendships and congregational life. How we navigate these waters can be a map to the world before us, whether it is making peace, or recognizing the past; whether it is finding new relationship or letting go of the old. As I said earlier, expectation can be disastrous. Since I lost my mother when I was in my twenties, I have made a promise to myself to not live with regret in relationship. I have tried to move past my childhood expectation to reflect on what is now.

What is it that I want in a father as a thirty-four year old mother of two? The answer is, of course, just as complicated as when I was six. Sometimes it would still be nice to be swept up and carried to my bedroom after falling asleep during a movie, sometimes it would be great to dance on daddy's feet. But, I am more blessed with watching my sons boat on granddad's pond or learn about plants in my father's mountain garden. I love to watch Kiernan listening to boating adventures from his uncle Robert. I am able to share bedtime stories from my stepdad and carry on the seeds of activism that he planted in me with my own sons. I am nurtured by exploring the history of my dad's life that I never heard, because I hadn't thought to ask before. It is in the continuation of relationship that I find the blessed feeling of being uplifted.

Dancing on Daddy's feet has become a metaphor in parenting - in finding the magical moments to share with my own children.

Hello Eau Claire

2010-05-31T07:47:00.000-07:00

Looks like it will be Hello Eau Claire! I was happy to accept their call to be a full-time settled minister with a vote of 100%!

Time to rest.
Time to pack!

Hello, Goodbye!

2010-05-20T07:39:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning my family and I will hauling ourselves out for a 7AM flight to....Eau Claire(www.uucec.org)! I'm very excited to be candidating for ministry this coming week in lovely Eau Claire, WI. There will be sunny skies and no to little humidity. Take that Atlanta!

Departures and arrivals are in my future, and that has joy and sadness all mixed together. Transitions are liminal times creating a need to look out for guideposts and solid surfaces. I have had a series of goodbyes at my internship congregation, from my home congregation,and from fellow seminary students. Somehow though I keep running into people unexpectedly and more people have been telling me what a wonderful place Eau Claire and the Midwest are to live. I feel very much like the Beatle's song, "Hello, Goodbye!" On that note - I'm excited to be doing a "Beatles Theology" for perhaps my last sermon at UUMAN(www.uuman.org) in perhaps a great while. What Would John (Lennon) Do?

Imagine...

Protesting & Perfect Signs (God Loves Glitter) - Standing on the Side of Love in Atlanta

2010-05-06T17:15:00.001-07:00

Piedmont park was covered with something besides pollen today. Youths, parents, and activists marched, sang, and supported the gay and Jewish community with signs saying "God loves Glitter" and "Peace, Love, and Tolerance." Of course, we had our Standing on the Side of Love signs! Fellow seminary students carried signs saying "God is love!"

This afternoon a lot of teens from Grady High School in Atlanta and community activists converged into a wonderful counter-witness to the hate-filled messages of Westboro Baptist Church. The church members had horrible signs, "God Hates Jews", "Fags Hate God", and other horrible language. A youth from Grady High School found out that Westboro would be protesting at their school so she helped to organize a counter-protest. Over 800 people responded on Facebook and there were hundreds that came.

We took this moment to bring our Standing on the Side of Love signs and join other faith groups, local teens, and activist in a peaceful witness to love. I really enjoyed meeting some of the parents of the high schoolers that spoke supportively of teen efforts to organize and get their message out. One parent said, "How can I not support my daughter, when she is supporting two friends that came out in high school." This may have been the first protest for many of these teens and they conducted themselves with good spirit and peaceful enthusiasm despite the hateful message they were protesting.

It was a great day to see the power of all ages and types of people coming together in spite of hate. It was a testament to the power of people gathered in the name of love. Even the police doing crowd control couldn't help smiling a little.

Earth Day 2010

2010-04-16T16:05:00.000-07:00

Early in life I grasped a sense of the sacred in nature. I sensed something unspoken in the whisper of pines as my eyes strained to see through needles and filtered sunlight. I felt something magical as I broke across the mist in early morning walks in the bend of the Broad river. I didn't need any complicated theology to see the divine and the good in life in those moments. I grew up in Irmo, South Carolina which is a suburb of Columbia. Despite being in a suburb, I was lucky to have miles of woods behind my house. I could hear frogs and crickets in the evenings. I spent sun burnt summer days building forts,and playing flashlight tag among the fireflies and pines. My favorite time was to make my way to the river just as the sun broke the sky and the mist still cast mysterious coverings against the trees. I would sit on river rocks, mindless of mocassins or the rush of the river. I was queen of the river in that moment. I look back on those wild moments of my childhood and taste a freedom I struggle to find again.

There was some elemental understanding of my connection with those woods, that river, and the pulse of life. I would come home baked in mud, my mom would hose us down before she'd let my sister and I back into the house.

Water, earth, air, fire – and spirit. So elemental and basic, yet we lose touch behind our computer screens and the pace of a hurried life. It is easy to think that we can separate ourselves, and remove ourselves from the cycles of nature. Yet the hurricane reminds us. The rainbow reminds us. We must be reminded of our sacred connection, if we can possibly hope to find some balance in our life on this small, blue planet.

David Suzuki writes in The Sacred Balance: Rediscovering Our Place in Nature ,"Human beings depend on Earth and its life-forms for every aspect of their survival and life. It is impossible to draw lines that delineate separate categories of air, water, soil, and life. You and I don't end at our fingertips or skin - we are connected through air, water, and soil; we are animated by the same energy from the same source in the sky above. We are quite literally air, water, soil energy and other living creatures."

On this 40th Anniversary of Earth Day let us reconnect to this relationship. Let us step outside on a starry night and hope to see some fireflies. Let us think about what we eat and why. Let us think about the small things we can do to save energy, to use sustainable products, and live gently on mother earth.

How we spent Earth Hour...

2010-03-29T17:22:00.000-07:00

While we may have been one of the few marking Earth Hour in Marietta, GA - mark it we did. My children were enchanted with the candlelight and it generated some good questions about how our power needs affect the planet. Kiernan is great about turning off lights and often reminds me when I am forgetful. He is an empathetic child and he gets upset when thinking about the planet being harmed by his(our) actions.

Earth Hour reminds us that small efforts can make a difference in climate change, sustainability, and raising awareness. This small spiritual exercise of setting aside an hour of time was helpful in giving me food for thought for an upcoming Earth Day sermon. When we are overwhelmed by phrases like 'catastrophic climate change' and 'devastation of rainforests' we often feel powerless. Yet, small changes in our own lives can make a real impact. Think about how much difference it makes on those grocery trips when you remember to bring bags. How many times will we shop in a lifetime? That is how many times we can make a difference in that small way. My youngest son Ehren is mindful of putting all of his yogurt containers in recycling, and small children eat a lot of yogurt, applesauce, and other asundry containered items. Each container that is reused is less that have to be produced - less pollution from that production etc.

This hour was not only about sustainability, it also reminded me about sustainable time with family. In a consumptive and fast paced world it is important to sit down for some actual face time with one another. Not Facebook, face time.

If you were wondering, Kiernan won the board game by a landslide.

Civil Society

2010-03-21T18:56:00.000-07:00

How far does hate go?

Barney Frank, an openly gay senator, is met with gay-hating chants from the Tea Partiers. John Lewis from Georgia is met with the N word, and another representative was spit upon. The discourse on healthcare and politics in general has devolved into hateful name calling and dehumanization.

How far does hate go?

President Obama is featured in a dehumanizing clown face. The taunt rings out, "You lie!" People are yelling down folks at community meetings...

It won't be long before the hate breeds more than violent words. This sort of de-evolution of the ability to communicate with respect is the sort of de-humanizing banter that was the stuff of Civil Rights battles. We can not have civil society if people will not act civil. It takes a great deal of cooperation to have democratic process and to hear one another.

I'm afraid I can't hear much over all the shouting.

Standing on the Side of Love at Candler School of Theology

2010-03-19T07:08:00.000-07:00

At Candler School of Theology myself and fellow UU students have formed a Unitarian Universalist Student association. To be recognized, one often needs to organize and unify the efforts and action of individuals. We wanted to establish our presence at Candler and set a precedent of welcoming for future UU seminarians. Though some of us have sang in choir and attended Chapel, there has not been a Unitarian Universalist Service at Candler's chapel since 1992. We saw this as something that needed to be corrected.

So we gathered together local ministers and students and brainstormed on a service. The theme of Standing on the Side of love quickly became an apparent choice. With the Standing on the Side of Love campaign, we knew had a topic that would be prophetic and speak to our fellow students and faculty.

The central theme of Universalism calls to a loving God that would not condemn her creation to be separated from fundamental reconciliation with the divine. Unitarian Francis David said "That we must not think alike to love alike!" There is a strong history in both strands of standing up for the rights of slaves, workers, and women.

We had this service on March 18th in Canon Chapel with local UU's attending, along with a good number Candler seminary students and professors. The service was split between students and primarily local clergy graduates from Candler. Myself and a graduate, Lynn Hopkins, did a reflection. Rev. Marti Keller did the central homily and called us to understand our connection to standing up in the face of violence. The convicted voices of Rev. Rhett Butler, Rev. Joan Armstrong, and Rev. Roy Reynolds rang out in the meditation, chalice lighting, and call to worship. Duncan Teague, a current student, sent us off with the holding of hands and hearts. We emphasized our heretical UU history that has always puts always on the leading edge of questioning and standing on the side of justice. We spoke to our spirituality of interconnectedness and the irrefutable human and spiritual connection that calls us to stand up and out. There was a rich connection between the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta and its history of racial justice and ties to Martin Luther King, Jr.

We sang Spirit of Life and of course, Standing on the Side of Love. I was proud at how many of my fellow students raised their hands, when I asked if there were other heretics in the Chapel. We built a bridge with that service, and hopefully a relationship in justice and love.

Kids and Activism

2010-03-06T09:02:00.000-08:00

It is important for me as a parent to involve my children in activism that embodies our Unitarian Universalist values. Both my boys have been thrilled to participate in marches, protests, and supply drives. They like to make their own signs and of course being outside singing and chanting is fun for small children. Yet, I want them to move into the deeper reasons we act from our hearts. It goes beyond a cause and into the basic human relationship that is between each human being. I want them to grasp this feeling of a shared humanity and the shared experience of this finite existence. Kiernan said to me this morning, "I'm really sorry that people are cold in Atlanta. I wish the homeless didn't have to be cold." He is glad to do something concrete for what sometimes seems to be an insurmountable problem of poverty and homeless. This is basic compassion, but I'm so glad that it crosses his mind to think of others.

Kiernan is continuing to work on a community service badge for Sprial Scouts in collecting items for the homeless.

Atlanta Homeless suffer from poor foot care due to lack of socks and proper shoes. We'd like to collect clean socks of all sizes to donate to Crossroads Community Ministries where I was a Chaplain last summer. When you stand or walk in the heat, it is important to have clean dry socks.

We are collecting clean socks, shoes, and backpacks this week. It is my Spring Break, so I have flexibility for pick up. Pass the word!

Your Presence is Near - Julianne Lepp

2010-02-22T10:36:00.000-08:00

Your Presence Is Near

We have not forgotten
In nature we seek you
In the whisper of wind
In the new green wood

Your presence is near

We have not lost hope
In the dust of the desert
In the rush of the wave
In the rise of the mountain

Your presence is near

We remember the cycle
In the promise of blossoms
In the dying leaves
In the bare branches

Your presence is near

Snow in the South

2010-02-13T15:44:00.000-08:00

My children got to throw snowballs at one another for the first time. The neighbors made a snowman, and our other neighbor really wanted to give us a carrot for a snowman. Kiernan thought it made a nice digging implement for the snow, but was not interested in the effort to shape snow.

Maybe I'll make a snow lady tommorow - give her a great hat and maybe a baby carrot nose. Let's hope that the snow and ice make it off the roads, because Atlantans truly panic at the sight of white on pavement.

MLK Parade in Downtown Atlanta

2010-01-20T11:24:00.000-08:00

Kiernan and I did our annual Marta train ride downtown for the parade. It was almost a two hour wait for the start of the march, but it was great to see fellow seminarians and the Unitarian Universalists turn out for the parade. I was really proud at the number of UUCA youth that also participated in the march.

For the Martin Luther King, Jr. parade in downtown Atlanta we had over thirty participants from UUCA marching with our congregational and Standing on the Side of Love banner. There were some men shouting anti-gay and anti-Jewish rhetoric once they saw our banner and our people marching. We met their hateful shouts with a rousing sing of "Standing on the Side of Love." We lived out our UU values of faith in action and meeting hate with the power of love.

Since When is Compassion a Bad Word?

2010-01-15T18:49:00.000-08:00

I could blog quite a rant about Pat Robertson's horrible comments. Yet, I think Jon Stewart had it covered when he held up the Bible and said, "Has he even read this book." Somehow I don't think Pat's behavior falls into the "What Would Jesus Do" loving behavior category.

When you have a position of power in ministry or like Rush Limbaugh as an icon in radio - there is a responsibility to think beyond the foot in your mouth. Thousands of people are suffering and Pat can't pull out one psalm or verse of comfort. Limbaugh is saying how this "plays" right into Obama being able to offer compassion.

Well folks, I'll take the compassion and empathy over hot air and condemnation thanks.

The Old Battle Continues: Vatican vs. Nature

2010-01-13T06:34:00.000-08:00

The Associated Press reports that, "The Vatican newspaper and radio station are criticizing James Cameron's 3-D blockbuster for flirting with the idea that worship of nature can replace religion — a notion the pope has warned against."

http://movies.yahoo.com/news/movies.ap.org/vatican-says-avatar-no-masterpiece-ap#

This is certainly not a new battle. In Roman times the Catholic church co-opted pagan holidays for Christian celebrations. Perhaps the Vatican has forgotten the history of half the Christian calendar dates back to pagan religious holidays. The Vatican has vilified worshipping nature as heresy from the beginning. While this Pope defends that he is more environmental, he is quick to worry about the worship of the natural world. I hate to tell the Pope, but worship of nature doesn't replace religion - it is religion.

Indeed, this cements my desire to see Avatar this Friday evening. If the Pope is this worked up about it, then by all means it must be worth the price of a ticket. Also the Vatican seems to have failed to notice the distinct difference between worshipping a tree and recognizing the divine spark within it and all things. When I recognize the divine in nature it is an understanding of the complex inter-relationship of all things. I know many Christians that find God in nature understanding that God is not separate from creation or even humanity. Perhaps the Pope is fan of the theologian Barth that finds nature to be as fallen as humankind.

As a Unitarian Universalist I find this kind of thinking destructive. If we do not see our relationship with nature as spiritual and important, we will continue the destructive course of consumption and pollution modern society has embraced. Our fate is intertwined with nature, and our transcendentalist Unitarian forefathers Emerson and Thoreau certainly recognized it.

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand. ~Henry David Thoreau, journal, 5 January 1856

The cathedral of the world in all of its leaves, shadow, and light outshines any cathedral of stone and glass. I am proud to be a part of a religious tradition that embraces many sources of wisdom, including the spirit of a tree...including the wisdom of the natural world.

Books, Books, Books...

2009-12-31T10:57:00.000-08:00

How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book. ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Books mark the interests in my life like some colorful timeline. I have my earlier periods of favoring Richard Brautigan and then my attention moved to LE Modessitt. Some are worn and some are too precious to mar the cover. There are the books from my various classes. Then the ones that remind me of friends and loves. I love to browse my children's shelves and see my childhood books and those given to the boys thoughtfully by friends, aunts, and uncles.

Of course, ministry has also fed this addiction. Yes, I admit that I am indeed a book addict. I'll take a little Process Theology with some Carol Christ, some Catherine Keller. I need a little Tillich or some Telesco. I'd like some Thich Nhat Han or a book on mysticism. Yet, why stop there. Give me historical China. Give me Science Fiction. Give me a book of verse. Give me. Give me. My insatiable book needs are overflowing my shelves, my dresser, my desk, and I am in the position where books must prioritized.

Tell me, how do you prioritize a book? Is it the number of times you've read it? I have to ask whether it might inspire a sermon or I might need it for something. There are some books that are duds, and I can often find another loving home for it. Yet somehow, like the movie Inkheart, I feel books have a magic life of their own. Crack one open and it takes you away. It has no strings or requirements, except patience for plot and a love of words.

Cutting down books is like culling saved letters. It is letting go of a chapter in my life or a moment in time. The best way I've found to reduce my collection to where I don't have to sleep on them or use them as a night stand is to spread them to other book lovers. Other book lovers will then love them and share them with someone new. Like some perfect dessert, you can only have so much sugar until you need to share it with your friends.

So, my New Years weekend will be spent lovingly looking through books. Some will find new homes, and others will never quite make it past the "must keep" pile. Until, I look again at my bookshelves and stacks of books and start over again. The delightful spiritual process of cleaning out and making room. The process of remembering what is important to share, and what is important to hold close.

Let books be your dining table, And you shall be full of delights, Let them be your mattress, And you shall sleep restful nights.~Author Unknown

What Are We Celebrating?

2009-12-14T14:52:00.000-08:00

Lists are made, the food is baked, gifts are wrapped and yet there's still more to do? Why is it that during this time of celebrating so many holidays that hail the return of light that we are focusing more on gift returns instead? We string lights, we light candles, and sometimes even the outside of our homes...but how much light are we getting? Being intentional about this time of year is hard. We have messages from our childhood traditions, the media, and our own expectations about what it takes to do it right. Rethinking how we celebrate the winter holidays while not simple, can be quite radical.

This isn't something inside a sappy Halmark card. Searching for happiness and light has been the focus of age old quests and legends. What was the search for the Holy Grail all about? What about some wise men searching for a star in the night? I remember being fascinated by the story of the Wise Men that were willing to take off for strange lands - hoping to find something by the light of a star. What star are we following? What is it that we are searching for in this season?
“Jesus is the reason for the season” doesn't quite do it. Meg Cox wrote an article in U.U. World about this same struggle. Figuring out how to celebrate holidays is not always easy. She said “Many Unitarian Universalist congregations have beloved holiday traditions. But at home many of us still struggle to find the right mix of family traditions for this time of year. Many UUs respect Christian traditions that celebrate the birth of Jesus but are personally uncomfortable with the idea that he was the Christ. Yet veering away from religious rituals throws them smack into the materialistic, secular approach to Christmas, and they don’t want to deify Santa Claus either.” Some of us have grown up with Jewish traditions or some mixture of secular and Christian traditions. Coming up with meaningful ritual and practice is one way to search for the light in this time of shorter days and longer nights.

Meg Cox says that there are ways to celebrate the holidays without watering down everything into something unrecognizable and unprofound. She writes “Let’s start by going back to basics: No matter how historically suspect the date may be, Christmas is fundamentally the celebration of the birth of Jesus. In UU classrooms and homes, Jesus is lauded as a wise man whose devotion to peace and justice are worthy of praise and emulation. All the Unitarian Universalists I know take the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. very seriously as a holiday: Should we celebrate the birthday of Jesus with any less intensity?” She suggests that by embracing the stories and messages of Jesus, there is something to be found or reclaimed in this holiday.

The wise men in the story of the birth of Jesus are not that different from our own quests to find what is holy. We look for signs and we search in earnest for that which can bring us beyond despair and into hope. Yet we need not beat paths through deserts or forests to find this holy grail of happiness. Sometimes we must simply turn off the commercials, put away the electronics, and tune in. There are countless poems about the stillness of winter. It is in that point of stillness that wisdoms speaks. Yet, it is rare indeed that we have or make time for it. And yet, - in what many hail as a holy time – we are bulldozed by a loud, bright, and frenzied sensory overload. I was reminded of this when attended an Unplugging the Christmas Machine workshop last year, and that is what it seems to take sometimes. I have felt like I needed to pull the plug on what society has defined as Christmas, and explore my values around materialism, ritual, and what it is exactly that I am celebrating?

While we celebrate the traditional Christmas festivities with my extended family, we have greatly reduced the material push of this time. We've tried to shift to handmade or baked goods, or more giving lasting gifts like books. At home, our family celebrates the Winter Solstice. In my house, we light a fire and try to stay up all night on the solstice to greet the dawn. We drink hot cider or cocoa, tell stories, and play games We celebrate the light returning, and talk about what that means in our lives. And yes my kids still get excited about Santa Claus, but we primarily focus that he represents the spirit of giving. The boys are excited about presents, but they also get excited about evergreens and berries...and the stories about the return of the light. This is a magical time of year - with intention and sometimes unplugging the Christmas machine.

What is enough?

2009-11-26T05:51:00.000-08:00

When we had cable, Karl and I would constantly watch HGTV, and dream about how we could remodel the house... making furniture, repainting, etc. Commercials would feature gorgeous stainless steel appliances in a kitchen sleek and clean. It created dissatisfaction with the great house that we have now, because there was always a sense that it could be better. We just needed the materials, the time, and the money to do it -right? It is much like the image of Barbie for young girls - there is the reality vs. the fantasy factor. And, what is it that we are fantasizing about when we want the newest thing or best thing? It says something about us when what we have is not enough. It says that we are not enough without this stuff... without the perfect shape... without this and this.

The American economy is intricately caught up in a web of consumer spending. We are no longer export-driven - our economy is based on an over-consumptive model of people buying more and more. It will be interesting whether the lessons of this current economic crisis manifest permanent changes in the ethos of consumerism and waste. How can we reshape this model when we are stuck in this cycle of spending? It is not an easy answer. I heard a report on NPR that people are actually putting some money back in savings now. I think it is a hopeful sign when people feel like they can save, or put away something for later. There is this discipline of waiting for the right moment to use that money - a certain spiritual practice of delayed gratification.

We have learned to do without cable during seminary and happily get our media from Netflix and the Internet. My children get some commercial exposure from stores and the websites where they play games, but there is a relative lack of "I wants." They find fun in shopping at garage and rummage sales and finding the treasures of books and toys. I want to understand that what I have is enough, and this is a core value I want my children to understand as well. We live on a planet with finite resources. I don't need to even quote the monstrous consumption that the Western world takes of those resources, because it is apparent in the way we live and operate.

We are at the brink of choices around green technology, climate change, and the values that move our economy. I have gratitude for our land of plenty, yet our land of plenty will not supply us forever at this rate. I hope that we can learn to leave less of footprint on the world, and give back to our Mother. I hope that we can learn what is enough - that we are enough. It affects our self image, it affects our economy, and it affects the future.

A Kiss at the AMAs

2009-11-23T05:12:00.000-08:00

Why does Adam Lambert kissing another male in the midst of a live performance look any different than the score of women that have kissed women in concert or television?

Lambert when interviewed about his performance said that it was a double standard. Of course it is discriminatory to accept one display of affection instead of another. It is interesting how we try and contain sexuality into safe packages for the American consumer. David Bowie could be androgynous as long as he was with a woman. Here is a star that is openly gay and promoting the right to express his sexuality in his art, and he's being challenged about whether a same-sex male kiss can be on television.

Wake up folks, love can not be legislated. A kiss is a kiss, and love is love.

Space to Grieve

2009-11-18T11:46:00.000-08:00

Everyone has experienced the life exploding sensations of birth and the system wrenching loss of death on some level. These can be the most intimate and intense moments of life.

David Suzuki said is succinctly in The Sacred Balance, “Every child who has marveled at the growth of a plant from a seed, observed the transformation of a frog’s egg into a tadpole or witnessed the emergence of a butterfly from its cocoon understands in the most profound way that life is a miracle. Science cannot penetrate life’s greatest mystery; music and poetry attempt to express it; every mother and father feels it to the core.”

But, how quickly do we remove ourselves from these moments? Sometimes we remove ourselves so quickly from these moments that grief and sorrow seem foreign and unnatural. As the German-born American philosopher Erich Fromm stated, “To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness.”

When someone is crying, our first response is often to grab a tissue, and tell them it is okay. Is it really okay? Sometimes we just need to cry. Sometimes we just need to rage. Why do we often feel a need to anesthetize the pain around us? In that search for the perfect body and white tooth smile, our culture rarely gives us the message that it is okay to grieve. We need those times, and we need those spaces.

Would you cry that way while ensconced with your tear-jerker novel at Starbucks with latte in one hand and a big Kleenex in the other? Some of us might. But, some of us might tuck it away until later. How often do we tuck those feelings away, and keep tucking them away? How far can we go, before pain doesn’t touch us?

Often no matter how much we push grief down, it will spring forward in memory. Memories are funny that way, both tender and painful. I have one memory that is still clear and present. The pain has become less poignant, less a weight and more a picture that I cherish now. It is one piece of the picture of my mother that I’ve collaged into my memory and into my keeping. I confess that I still collect these memories greedily, as I do the sounds of her voice in my head.

The memory begins with the sun as a solemn observer in a cloud-ridden sky. My arms are folded against my chest as if to protect myself from the reality of my present situation. Thirty minutes before I’d given a eulogy for my mother’s passing, an honor to her life and a sending off of sorts at the time of her death. I’m thankfully distracted by my two-year old niece, Anna, dancing. Her brown hair is flying wildly in the wind, and the smile across her face is in juxtaposition to the heavy silence around her. Though she is irreverently dancing on some nearby graves, I can’t help but smile. She is chattering about “Ya-Ya” - my mother’s “grandmother” name. It is as if this solemn occasion has little bearing on her heart. She is chattering to the wind, and possibly speaking to her “Ya-Ya.” Her laughter cuts the painful reality I’m experiencing and eases my heart. As the minister murmurs the time old words. “From Dust To Dust…” I can’t help but think about the cycle of life and death.

Death is the ground from which all life comes and to which it returns.

Just as a minister said, “Dust to Dust…”, I knew that my mother had returned home. Whether I defined that as heaven or part of the great cosmic divine, it didn’t really matter, because - even in my grief - I still felt her and knew her peace.

I spoke of those a-ha moments. It wasn’t just when I saw my mom let go of her painful last moments in the hospital room. It was the whole process. The entire relationship of living and dying. There is no separation from it. Just as I was born to breath into this beautiful world, I will one day leave it. I am just as much a part of this life dance as the mulch in our church garden or my dancing little niece. The missing link became clear.

Just as the birth of a child is joyous, so can death be a time of release and renewal. There is a sacred cycle of letting go, so there is a space for the new- just as this Spring we will revel in the buzz of new life and colors - this winter we will watch the plants return to whence they were birthed. The dance marches on, whether my mom is dying of cancer or I am birthing my first child. When my mom died, it felt like time would stand still at that horrible moment of loss and pain. But - despite any efforts of my own - my life rolled forward. I got married to the love of my life and have had two beautiful boys in expression of that love. While my mother is not with me in body, I have felt her in my dreams,and the bedside of my children.

It is easy enough to conceptualize that we are all a part of a greater cycle. Though, when the we lose someone close to us, the grander schemes of life and death are far from our hearts and minds.

Whether we rage, cry, or simply detach and move away from the pain - loss is not a process that is easily mapped out. It is neither orderly nor clean. In a life of schedules, carpooling, and soccer games - it doesn’t seem convenient to “lose it” in the school parking lot or in the check-out line at the grocery store. In more recent times, we have lost a lot of the ritual and time for grief that cultures and religious practices might have once given us - to have the space to move through our loss.

Just as we need to find times in the day to step away from our desks, from the noise of our children, or the stress of a project, we need a space for a relationship with life, yes - we need to honor our relationship with death. We need a space to let go. A space to grieve, and time to move through whatever wells within in us. Give us a Kleenex, if you must - but let us cry. Let us cry.

Thornton Wilder, the American playwright, in this excerpt from his play Our Town wrote, “Now there are some things we all know, but we don’t take’m out and look at’m very often. We all know that something is eternal. And it ain’t houses and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth and it ain’t even the stars…everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people who ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There’s something way down deep that’s eternal about every human being.”

What is that spark of vitae - that soul footprint that makes us each so special and unique? How can one son be so different from the other? Do you remember the wonder of when you found out that each snowflake has its own crystalline pattern? Life is glorious. Life is magic. It is no wonder that people struggle with the loss of it. Death is often our own mirror. Our own window into our finite time in this precious life.

Tich Nhat Hahn said, “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”

All is miracle - honor the process and honor each season.

Urban Meditation

2009-10-27T07:09:00.000-07:00

Let's think about one evening in an American household. Family and friends are spread out around the house, and a few people are watching TV. The television is turned up, and a cell phone rings. The owner of the phone doesn't hear the phone ring because she is jamming to her ipod tunes. The commercials are louder than the scheduled program, and the voices in the room speak above the show to be heard. The dog barks to be let out and someone is yelling from upstairs to be heard...Noise is everywhere. This might seem like the prelude to a Calgon or vacation getaway commercial, but the reality is all too common.

If you share your home with others – roommates, children, or parents there is a constant stream of distraction. There is noise at work, there is noise on the commute to work, and there is noise on lunch break...while walking the dog....while getting a cup of coffee... Our modern life is an exercise in filtering distraction and noise. With the hectic pace of modern life, we find at some point there is a need to find a still point of calm - even amongst the chaos of noise. As a mother of two young boys, I find myself searching hard for those oasis moments. How can a moment of peace be found, without the luxury of a weekend at The Mountain or some planned escape.
The good news is that you can. There is a practice for meditating in noise, finding peace amidst chaos.

As a part of staff worship a few weeks ago, I was blessed with the chance to do just that. UUCA's Business Manager graciously planned a worship exactly around how to find sacred and meditative space amidst noise and chaos. On a sunny Wednesday afternoon, with the traffic busy as ever on the 85 access ramp, a few of the staff tromped down to the Fern Creek preserve. Visually the trail down to the creek is idyllic with green and water surrounding you, yet there is a discordant sensation with the rush of traffic noise from the access ramp. It is surprisingly very noisy by the side of such a lovely creek! Sitting on towels and benches, we began our urban meditation under the written directions of Mike Suzuki, a writer of meditation resources.

At first it was disconcerting and disorienting to be among nature and still be under the onslaught of traffic noise. There is a trick to this. Suzuki writes that the key to meditating in a noisy environment is to change the way you think about noise. Rather than letting the external sounds distract them from your meditation, use them in your meditation. We are surrounded by the music of the world, whether birdsong or traffic noise. In an essence it is one more recognition of our part in the interdependent web of life, urban life is as much a part of that web as the flowing creek. Trying to separate ourselves from is not always a successful or easy tactic, as a parent of young children I can speak to that.

It is very hard to separate ourselves from noise and busyness, the key is to change how we integrate that noise. What do we do with it?

One suggestion that Mike Suzuki gives is to try and sit calmly and just listen to the noise. Sometimes, we can't help but listen. Let the sounds fill your head. Focus on the tones and vibrations of the sound rather than their origin.

All sound – whether distracting like a buzz saw, a crying child, or a barking dog – or even calming like a bubbling stream – are just vibrations. When the noise is broken down to its components, you can focus on the deep underlying vibrations. When you choose how to integrate the sound or how that sound makes you feel, then you have the power for it to be a calming sound.

There is also an acceptance. By the stream during that staff worship, I could not make the sound of traffic go away. It was amazing how as I accepted the rush of traffic, other sounds also became apparent. I could hear the water more clearly and I was attuned to other urban noises. A lot of times we might try and drown out unpleasant noise with music or white noise, yet even this is not full proof against soft points in songs or really insistent outside noise.
In order to meditate in this kind of space, you need to acknowledge and coexist with the sounds that are with you. Along with this acceptance, there is also certainly a need for patience. This is not a practice that will happen right away, and frustration can easily come up.

Yet there are countless reasons why we deserve to give ourselves a bit of peace during the stretch of a busy and stressful day. Don't give up! This method of meditation can work, and add more peace and calm to an otherwise noisy and stressful time. Whether by Fern Creek or in your car at lunch, make times for that still point. Make time for yourself to carve out that moment of stillness and meditation, regardless of bulldozers and chatty coworkers.

A square inch of silence is a square inch of peace.

Standing on the Side of Love

2009-09-13T17:42:00.000-07:00

In 2009, are you serious? This was the cry of the GLBTQ community in Atlanta this afternoon. There must have been hundreds of GLBTQ supporters and allies at a rally in Atlanta's midtown.

Today I proudly stood with over thirty fellow Unitarian Universalists in a community rally against the raid at Eagle Atlanta, a gay bar in Atlanta. We were there not only stand up for rights, but also to support the GLBTQ community in Atlanta. From victim accounts of the raid there were heavy handed tactics, oppressive slurs against homosexuality, and possible rights violations. Rev. Anthony David, Senior Minister of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta gave a stirring speech and there were a great deal of press present.

Without a protest and without speaking out there is the danger of losing the momentum on speaking out against misdeeds. Richard Gilbert speaks of the prophetic imperative that demands that we speak, especially in the face of human dignity. The South has had more than its share of struggles for rights and recognition. The struggle still continues and Unitarian Universalists are on the rising front of recognizing that love knows no boundary. Love should not be bound by law, oppression, and fear. We must speak up and speak loud or we will lose our right to speak at all.

G....is for Grace

2009-08-18T11:40:00.000-07:00

For some grace can be a rather loaded word. I'm not talking about the kind of grace that one receives from a mighty deity. I'm talking about the action of grace in our lives. I define grace as the space in our lives for failure, and what that can gift us. Failure offers gifts?

Sure.

I remember how frustrated I was when I was 5 and learning how to ride my bike. My best friend down the street had all his family around him and a lot of kids in the neighborhood cheering him on. He fell once, crying, and then sailed off on his bike like a champ. I was so jealous, and knew that I wanted to be a bike-rider too! I had a pink bike with tassels on the handles. While this was a little embarassing for a tom boy, I still knew it would get sufficiently muddy on the trails behind my house. I would turn it into a proper dirt bike - if I could only learn how to ride it!

I remember being by myself and falling and falling. I was pretty peeved that my triumphant crowd wasn't present to see me sail away on my bike. But, I would do it. Yes, I would. My knees were skinned and my pride was even more so. But, after what seemed like hours I finally got that bike moving in a straight line. I kept adjusting the handle bars and holding my breath as I pumped my feet.

That was better than anything! I finally had mastered the impossible. Later on, I gathered up a triumphant crowd - not to be outdone by neighbor and sailed down the street like a champion.

That is grace.

There is room in the universe for mistakes. It can be the most painful way to learn,but often the most rewarding and memorable. Looking back on what might be my easy lessons, I can't recall them. But, boy do those knee skinning and pride bending ones wrench my memory.

Being in ministry and being a parent remind me of this. I make mistakes, and watch my boys struggle through their first lessons...walking...social skills...playground fumbles. Before I jump in to "fix" it for them, I remember what grace is. Instead I offer a triumphant crowd of cheers and a hug for the tears.

Everyone needs to sail away on their bike, with their own feet pedaling.