GRATITUDE FOR COMMUNITY

PUUF, NOV. 27, 2022

 

Last Sunday evening, I sat nervously in my car, parked on Duane next to Astoria’s Garden of Surging Waves, thinking about the Colorado Springs massacre the night before when a crazed shooter had mowed down those dancing and celebrating at Club Q, killing five and wounding many others before a former military man wrestled his gun away and a drag queen stomped him with her high heels.

My “name-sister” Christina Mae Ketcham, sponsor of the vigil to commemorate Transgender Day of Remembrance and the many lives cruelly taken, had requested police presence for our vigil, but I hadn’t caught sight of anyone in uniform at that moment, so I waited till 7 o’clock and then made my way to the entrance to the Garden.

Lit by candles strewn about the walkways, the Garden took on a reverent atmosphere, and when I saw Christina, Tessa, Marco, spouses of transmen and women, and many friends, plus Officer Chris O’Neary in attendance, I knew I was entering a safe space and a space that had been sanctified by hope and love.

I was grateful for this gathered community.  And during that hour of quiet reverie and song, I felt my anxiety abate, my sense of connection increase, and my resolve to continue my support and love for our many Q-community friends and neighbors.

Gratitude---not just gratitude for Christina’s bringing us together, but gratitude for a former soldier who couldn’t stand it and risking himself, wrenched the gun from the shooter’s hands.  Gratitude for the Drag Queen who took the opportunity to stomp the shooter with her high heels.

What does “community” mean to us?  The dictionary would tell us something about people united in a common cause.  The vigil last Sunday night was a community that formed for an hour, united in their love for those who suffer for their gender or sexual identity, angry about the senseless loss of life, fearful for the dangers that may lurk in hidden places, but determined to continue to work for the cause of freedom for all.

Where else do we find community?  I’d like to suggest that our coffee klatches offer a sense of community, folks gathering in their own neighborhoods, talking about the conditions where they live, what the solutions might be, the ideas brainstormed for addressing some of those problems.  But these communities might not exist except for their common roots in the Pacific UU Fellowship, here on the Lower Columbia.

 I just love attending our coffee klatches.  No matter who is there on any given date, our enjoyment of each other’s presence is tangible.  Our quieter members offer their ideas, which they might not do so readily if it were a larger, less connected group.  Our more outgoing members keep the conversation going. 

There is a sense of belonging, I think, that affects most of us---evidence of that, for me, lies in the willingness to let me know that trauma just wasn’t going to work for us, a message relayed quietly, respectfully, and earnestly. That kindly communication from members of the larger community of PUUF was effective and it changed my trajectory from trauma to gratitude for the respect and caring others showed for my misjudgment.

I don’t know if you read through the November edition of News from the Pews, which is the chronicle of the goings-on in the coffee klatches.  At the end of each month, I list the topics and ideas that came up during the coffee klatch.  And it strikes me that among the ongoing themes that arise, we often turn to social justice concerns.  Our coffee klatches are not just socializing moments!

Here's an excerpt from the Astoria CK:  (We) opined upon the issues of local right-wing politics, the gun legislation on the ballot, and the ever-present challenges of racism and antisemitism, plus the dangers of Christian Nationalism.

The Peninsula folks started out talking about racism and white privilege which soon developed into deep concern for the peninsula’s problems with meth addicts, squatters in RV’s and other homeless folks, moving from disgust at the trash and ugly dwellings into a larger consideration of how these problems develop. 

Our Tillamook county friends considered the personal issues of ageing, of losing one’s spouse, of the decisions that need to be made about relocating, downsizing, living with one’s children, the mingled grief and relief that comes with some losses in life.

And the South County group had lots to talk about as well:  the slash pile fires for starters, and then a wide-ranging discussion of rent increases, right to work laws and how they were related to slavery and other workers’ issues, the Great Resignations of health workers, teachers, and others.  And capitalism’s hold on the world’s economy, particularly “the 1619 Project” and its Capitalism chapter.

(By the way) If you’re not currently attending your local coffee klatch, you’re missing out on some pretty interesting conversations!  If you’re not on my mailing list for CK’s and would like to be, please let me know!  And we have goodies!

But to return to the theme of Gratitude for Community and how we express that gratitude to our PUUF community and to the larger communities in which we live---

One casualty of the pandemic was our forced ending of much of our social justice outreach and the committee which proposed and carried out projects.   

What would you think about re-energizing that committee and undertaking some interesting social justice projects and outreach?  It could be done in a couple of ways:  reaching out to the area in which each CK is located, with the Peninsula finding a project that benefits the residents on the peninsula, for example.  OR finding a project that could include the whole Lower Columbia area.

Let’s talk about some of the thoughts I’ve presented and see if we can come up with some workable ideas.  We’re a little rusty in the social justice department, at least in terms of boots on the ground, but we all seem to have strong opinions about what is wrong and how we feel about it.  Next step, of course, is how do we act on those opinions and feelings?

Anybody want to start the discussion off?  (Veja, will you manage the microphone for folks to use?)

Discussion ensued.

         In closing, I’d like to offer a recipe for feeling and expressing gratitude:

1.    Look for opportunities to be grateful

2.   Say it out loud----“thank you trees, or car that didn’t 

3.   Thank the universe, the powers that be, or God, if that works for you.

4.   Pay attention to what it feels like for you to be grateful.

5.   Be aware of the gift your gratitude gives to others.

Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE POWERS THAT BE

 MY UNDERSTANDING:  an epiphany on Nov. 26, 2022.

God is not a being.  "God" is the word used for the powers of the universe, visible in natural law.

"Jesus" represents a human being with human powers, subject to natural law and capable of understanding the powers of the universe as revealed in natural law.  Jesus, as well as others, has given humans insight into how best to live.

The "Holy Spirit" is spiritual power, available to all beings through natural law and giving meaning to the powers of the universe.

 

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

GLEANINGS FROM THE OCTOBER COFFEE KLATCHES

 

It’s been interesting to compile my notes of the September and October coffee klatches, the discussions, the complaints, even a few mild warnings about losing people because of the intensity level of our conversations about trauma and how it might affect PUUF’s ability to thrive because of the trauma that is endemic in our 21^st century world.

I have done a lot of thinking about this.  I understand our resistance to hearing more and more about trauma; it was difficult for me to hear about the many traumatic experiences that folks in our Fellowship have endured and are still enduring.  We all are still enduring the trauma of the pandemic, its limitations, the scary illness of COVID19 which threatened and took so many lives.  And is still occurring way too often right now.

In addition, in our Fellowship, we have several folks whose health is endangered by other causes---the ageing process with the threat of dementia, the failing health of spouses and friends, the prospect of losing our physical abilities.  It’s a tough row we hoe these days.  And I’m sympathetic. Cuz I’ve been there.

Let’s go back ten years to the year 2012, which was when I moved to the North Coast, in hopes of just enjoying being a member of a congregation.  I was worn out at the time from leading the Whidbey Island congregation as it built its own building, grew to 100 members, had a thriving RE program, a choir and a strong presence in the community.  I was worn out and ready for a rest.  And I wanted to be near a UU congregation.

I definitely got my wish to be near a UU congregation on the North Coast of Oregon, where I had spent so many happy days as a child and as a vacationer.  But that wish came with a challenge as well.  When I settled into that pew in the little green church in the fall of 2012 and began to enjoy the company of PUUFers, I could see clearly that some leaders were on the verge of burnout.

We had two folks in the congregation who were terminally ill and others experiencing ageing in a community with less than ideal health care provisions.  The congregation on Sunday mornings was pretty small—20 to 25 people in attendance.  People were getting worn out by the constant effort to provide pulpit speakers, to stay afloat financially, and to do the many tasks of successful layministry.  

I had hoped to just be a member but I found that my skills at ministry were needed and appreciated.  So despite my weariness and desire to be retired, when asked to help, I said yes.  And I have never regretted that decision.

But what I agreed to do, in the areas of pastoral care and preaching, were the things I enjoyed most about ministry---listening to people and relieving their pain and speaking my mind about important issues.  I didn’t want to do much more than that because I was tired and didn’t want to impose my new ideas on a congregation that was running pretty well, other than the burnout factor.

So when I thought about new ideas, I thought about the things I would enjoy doing, that would provide socializing opportunities for our farflung parish, and we started our coffee klatches--- on the peninsula, in Tillamook county, and in South Clatsop county.  And a monthly Happy Hour in Astoria.  We also improved our donations process, beginning the tradition of a spring canvass drive to secure pledge commitments for the coming fiscal year.  

We enjoyed the services one Sunday a month from Rev. Carol McKinley, who visited us from Olympia and brought her own thoughts about UUism.  But Carol was getting tired also, and ready to retire; she asked me what I thought about stepping into her shoes and being a regular preacher in PUUF’s pulpit.  The Sunday Services folks liked the idea and I became a regular.

We began to grow and eventually outgrew the little green church on the hill.  We started looking around for new digs and after some disappointments settled into the Performing Arts Center, becoming an Official Partner for the PAC with some of us even being on their board.  At the PAC we continued to grow a bit, but the PAC wasn’t a perfect fit and eventually the decision was made to accept the Presbyterians’ invitation to meet in their beautiful sanctuary. 

In 2019, the 7^th year of my service with you and my 77^th birthday, I decided to retire again; you all were getting ready to move on without me.  You were going into search and things looked pretty good.  And then the pandemic hit, we all went into lockdown, the search stalled and then fizzled when Rev. Denise decided she could not serve PUUF well via Zoom and also serve the Hillsboro congregation.

PUUF was back on its own, with no ministerial presence after 7 years of having a part-time minister.  So guess what happened!  She’s Baaaacck, as they say in the movies. And for the past almost three years, I have served you again, with diminishing energy but with great hopes for you.

And one day, talking with Terri, our board president, I stated simply “You have to figure out what you’re going to do when I can’t do this anymore.”  And you all started working on that task.

I was tired of trotting out the Golden Oldies in my sermon file and wanted to do something more creative to deal with the multiple crises our world was struggling with.  So coffee klatches with a focus were my bright idea.  My lengthy experience running groups in other congregations and also in junior high schools gave me great confidence.

But at this point, after a few intense coffee klatches in September, the enormity of the trauma load began to weigh on us all and after some discussion within the CKs, I decided to soften the approach, at the urging of some who were concerned we’d lose folks if things were too intense and challenging, especially since the trauma crises were ongoing.

So October has been more of a time when we’ve talked about grace, that unbidden moment that comes out of the blue and changes our lives when we least expect it---and often after a terrible experience.  We shared our stories in October, though other topics also arose.  And we will become more gentle in our approach to hard times, talking about gratitude and the gifts of being together with friends, rather than the pain of trauma.  It seems like a logical next move and definitely part of the healing process from trauma.

But wait, there’s more!

In talking recently with members of the Search committee, I learned that one challenge they faced was figuring out the Why and What folks wanted in a new minister---why did they want one and what did they want that minister to do?

And there appeared the challenge that arises when a congregation which started as a Fellowship, meaning a group of UUs who wanted their/our faith represented in their community, started their own church.  This trend grew from small beginnings in the 40’s and 50’s, with the blessing of the UUA, and this is how PUUF got its start, essentially, through the efforts of Arline and Cliff LaMear and probably some of you here today.  They were our forebears, the ones who took the first steps to create the Pacific UU Fellowship.

It's a success story in most ways, except for the inevitable burnout factor!

People were proud that they could start a church of their own and be accepted as a member of the greater body of the Unitarian Universalist Association.  Fellowships sprang up all over the USA and flourished, many of them growing large enough to be able to call a minister, at least part time, and hope to thrive.

Some ministers eagerly came to serve Fellowships, but many of them quickly discovered that a group which had been successful as a layled congregation did not particularly want to change over to pastoral leadership.  It felt like their freedom was at stake.

I have seen this happen before and I have personally tussled with it with mixed success in other congregations.  I gradually have learned that the key to leadership of a formerly layled group was to listen and learn who they were and what they were good at, what they needed help with, and not move too fast, but to get acquainted first.

My own experience was at a small congregation in Portland which had spun off from First Unitarian.  I was eager to show off my skills and plunged in headfirst with my new ideas.  Before long I had made enough people uncomfortable that they wanted me to be removed as minister and a small group of dissidents went to the board president with that very request.

         Over the next year, we managed to reduce the tension and I made amends as best I could for the rookie mistakes of moving too fast.  And many of them apologized to me. 

But I didn’t stay there much longer, and, taking my painfully learned lessons, went on to serve two other small congregations up in Puget Sound both of them started by layleaders.  My success rate went up, fortunately!

         I think something like this has happened at PUUF.  You are a strong group, with leaders who are wearing out.  You want lots of freedom and you’re not comfortable being bossed around.  And yet the workload is heavy and we are growing older, to the point where some of us are burning out.

         My hope for you is that we will work together to ease that workload for our overburdened and tired leaders, that we will encourage our newer members to take leadership positions, and that we will agree to consider new ideas before we balk.  Some of this is already happening and the board’s Visioning Committee is active in this regard.

         When I came here, I had taught three small congregations how to work with a minister, more or less successfully.  I had learned to shut up and listen to what was already good about the congregation, to make small changes not big ones, to work for agreement among leaders about those changes, and to not be bossy.

         The advantage to you was that I could live here.  The advantage to me was that I didn’t have to struggle to get you to do things.  I basically watched what you liked and encouraged it, added to it in the way of small social coffee klatches and happy hour, and suggested a more systemic way of handling pledges and other donations.  Nobody seemed to dislike any of these small changes.

         Interestingly, when I decided I needed to fully retire and move away and introduced the idea of coffee klatches as discussion groups to work through the possible injuries caused by the pandemic, the fizzled search, the ageing of our membership, that sort of thing, the reaction was not enthusiastic.  Was I asking too much of you?  Maybe so, or maybe it’s the timing, coming as I am getting ready to really sever my relationship with you next summer.  

Grief in both me and you is a real thing.  And it is part of the trauma.  No wonder we’re needing to step back a few paces and look at the good stuff.

I am grieving my need to leave you behind, possibly not seeing many of you again.  We have been good companions on the UU path and I will miss you very much.  I am making plans to move to Vancouver WA, where there is a mid-sized church with a settled minister.  I need to let go completely of the many responsibilities of ministry.  

You may be grieving too.  We will talk more about this as we move closer to June 30, the end of my contract with you, and get ready to say goodbye.  I will probably need your help with things like a yard sale and with packing, but we can figure that out later.

We have a little time now for conversation about what I’ve said and to talk about the theme of this homily:  Where do we go from here?