Living our Values Part 2- Our Own Dr. Strowbridge

Female Doctor Wore Pants by Jennifer Conkling [from a newspaper clipping in the UUCC archives]

A female trousers-wearing doctor was an unusual site in the 1800s, especially in Cortland.

Dr. Lydia Hammond Strowbridge was a female physician who was born Nov. 21, 1830 in Freetown to Mr. and Mrs. Silas Hammond... She was married in May of 1851 to John W Strowbridge, a Solon native... They came to Cortland in March of 1853. He enlisted in the Union Army during the Civil War and was captain of Company F, 185th regiment, New York Volunteer Infantry, when Lee surrendered at Appomattox...

Strowbridge, who before her marriage was an invalid, had begun the study of medicine. When her husband entered the army she decided to continue the study and graduated from the Hygeio Therapeutic Medical College of New York City.

Dr. Strowbridge made a specialty of the diseases of women and children, said Anita Wright of the Cortland County Historical Society...

She was also a member of the Universalist Church, the woman’s Relief Corps and a charter member of the Lincoln Lodge.

Strowbridge was one of the few women to wear a bloomer outfit, she knew that tight corsets and dresses that women wore were unhealthy, so she wore straight-legged bloomers underneath a short skirt, known as a Turkish style of clothing.

Strowbridge was arrested for being involved in an abortion, Wright found in her research. She said the doctor must have gotten out of it somehow because nothing was mentioned in the newspaper and there was no reference to a trial.

Strowbridge died Oct. 4, 1904. After an illness of three years form internal cancer, according to her obituary. She continued to practice after she was sick and she worked up until the time she was forcedto be in bed, it said. 

When we found this article about Dr. Strowbridge, I was curious how active she was in the church, and was delighted to find find her name all through our history of those years.

If you’ve ever had a cup of coffee in our social hall, you have no doubt see the history of the wonderful speakers that came to speak at the Unitarian Universalist church of Cortland. Well it turns out it was Dr. Strowbridge who brought many of those famous women speakers.

From an article on our church history:

“During the 1870s Dr. Lydia Strowbridge, one of the first women physicians to graduate in New York State, moved to Cortland, joined the church, and brought speakers to the church such as Clara Barton, educator and founder of the Red Cross, [born into a Universalist family] Lucretia Mott, quaker leader who was ref used a delegates seat at London’s famous anti-slavery conference as a result of her sex, thereby establishing women’s rights as. Primary goal for reform, and Susan b Anthony, feminist and suffragette.” 

As  I read about Dr. Strowbridge, a picture came into focus of a woman who was very active in many reform causes, and especially the rights of women. I found an article by Tabatha at the history center who says in a Facebook post:

“She was a member of the National Dress Reform Association and served as its president, 1857-1858. In addition to dress reform, Strowbridge was also active in the suffrage movement.”

You can see in the photo above she is pictured wearing the bloomers and skirt promoted by Ameila Bloomer, another local hero, who was also a leader in the Dress Reform movement.

The Homerville Museum found a description of Dr. Strowbridge in the bloomers:

“In 1869 she and seven male speakers took part in the 21st anniversary of the Friends of Human Progress, at Waterloo, New York. Its theme was the failure of our social system as well as our moral and physical lives. A female reporter from New York City described Lydia's appearance as "dark complexioned, about 37 years old, with sharp brown eyes, a pleasant demeanor, clad in a bloomer costume of gray trousers being loose and hanging well, and her skirt descending an inch or two below the knee. The body of her coat fitted lightly…"

A website called Women and the Vote NYS tells us that:

“She brought attention to many social issues, including abolition of enslavement, women's suffrage, the temperance movement and women's dress reform. Dr. Lydia was a speaker at the first New York State women's convention held at Congress Hall in Saratoga Springs. [July 13–14, 1869]”

But she was not just one who brought issues of reform to our congregation, she was a founding member of the Ladies Aid society. Our own History of Ladies' Aide Society tells us that when the Society formed 1883 “the First VP was Mrs. Strowbridge. We find that just 2 years later the society hit a rough patch and the notes from Sept 24 1885 tell us that “A meeting was held at Mrs. Parson’s for the purpose of disbanding. But a few of the faithful ones clung together and the words of encouragement spoken by Dr. Strowbridge kindled the smoldering embers into a flame and the fire ss still burring. The obituary of the Ladies’ Aid was not written”

The notes form 1894 mention that “The pulpit chairs bought in 1895 from money received at Dr. Strowbridge’s supper . This is to be done so that in years to come we will have something in a substantial way as well as pleasant memories to remind us of Dr. Strowbridge and her kind hospitality.”

It seems like she may also have served as congregation president, which was quite unusual as near as I can tell- it seems women mostly had leadership in the Ladies Aid, with men serving on the board [do let me know if you are aware of other exceptions and I’ll update this post]. It says in our congregation history that in 1898 a special was “called to order by president Strowbridge. Dr. Strowbridge asked the pleasure of meeting in regard to extend a call to Rev. Kenyon for another year. Much discussion followed. It was decided it would be impossible to give any advance in salary under the present financial conditions of the church and the Rev. Kenyon tendered his resignation, which was accepted.”

Now this is a special bit coming up here, that reminds us how our history repeats itself. The history continues:

“In 1898 upon the resignation of the Rev. Kenyon, there was a committee appointed to confer with the McLean Church and see if they would unite with Cortland Church and receive part time service with the Cortland Parish. A delegation came over from McLean, liked the sermon and decided to unite with this parish, holding their services in the evening. Later Upper Lisle united with Cortland and our minister held services there on Wednesdays for a number of years." 

Isn’t that wonderful, to hear that back over 125 years ago we teamed up with other congregations and shared a minister?

But Back to Dr. Strowbridge. She was written about in book of “ Biographical Setches of Leading Citizens, Cortland county, NY” published 1898:

“She endears herself to her patients by her sympathetic manner, and the womanly, kindly skill displayed in the treatment of the sick. She makes a specialty of the diseases and ailments of women and children, to which she has give especial study, but is also quite as successful in treating all other kinds of sickness, and has gained a reputation for skill and success that is second to none in the country. She was a member of the Baptist church in her earlier days, but later united with the Universalist Church of Cortland, in which she is an active worker. She is the mother of 3 children, Clarence, Silas H, and John W, Diseased."

Our own church history reports: “In 1904 Dr. Strowbridge died. The loss of such an active member was much felt here and in the Women’s Aid Association as well as the many organizations in which she had worked.” She was burried here in Cortland, and we can still visit her headstone at the Cortland Rural Cemetery [Section S, Lot 40] They note that “there is a historical marker dedicated to her that is in front of the hospital on Homer Avenue in Cortland."

I love this story of our own Dr. Strowbridge. She was a dedicated church leader - hosting dinners, cheering on discouraged volunteers, pitching in for fundraisers. She was a caring parent, and dedicated physician. All  the while working for women's rights, for abolition of slavery and bringing her reformer's passion into our community. What a wonderful story of a life guided by our Universalist Values.

 

Photo from the History Center Blog

 

Living Our Values Part 1: The Story of the Lady's Society

It’s been wonderful reading through the archives of the Cortland congregation, having a scavenger hunt through history for ways our congregation has lived our values over the generations. Too many stories to tell today, but what spoke to me was the strength and generosity of the women of this church, and our role in the struggle for women’s suffrage.

Back in the 1960s, when the second wave of feminism was just beginning to rise, the women of our church took the time to write their own history. What touched me as I read through this history written in 1967 was to see the women of our congregation -- year after year -- doing what we still do today; sewing, cooking, supporting the families of this church, (and making up a good part of the budget of the church through their sewing and the meals they served and financial good sense.) And, just as we see today, their caring for others in need far and near, and “putting their hands” to what needed doing.

Selections from “History of The Women’s Organization in The Old Cobblestone Church of Cortland NY written by Mrs. Grace B Buck & Mrs. Mable Wing, 1967:

“The Aid Society in the beginning no doubt grew out of groups of women who met together during the Civil War to sew for the Army. In 1883 organized by Mrs. Hand (wife of Rev Hand) “To secure systematic and efficient aid to the church in meeting its many expenses, we the ladies of the first universalist parish of Cortland co-operate together and agree to devote to the service of the church such portion of our time and labor as we shall deem practicable and which shall be prescribed in our constitution”

1887- Many of the records relate the numbers of quilts made and even noted a missing block. “Slaking the quilts” was no doubt quite a ceremony [removing the quilt from the frames ready for binding.)

Much work was done for charity or for the army and Mrs. Godfrey or provided this work.

1888 “as each quilt was finished pieces which were left, inspired the starting of another one and so an endless chain of quilts went on and on”

1891 The Binghamton Church was being built at this time (on exchange street) and asked the society at Cortland to hold a supper for their benefit. In November, 1891, the supper was served and $17 sent to the Binghamton Church.

1899 There was no limit to their generous work, and no choosing of what their work would be “whatever their hands found to do” -- they truly did it with all their might. We find they voted to buy flowers for a woman’s funeral and started sewing for her children at the same time.

1906 ‘the lives of famous women were studied in the meetings but suppers and quilts had their usual importance”

1938 “The traveling apron was made by Myrtie Cortright with extra patches to be sewn on with a silver piece underneath. This traveled from each member until it had completed its journey, then returned to the treasurer or the chairman. Clara Barton stocking coin cards were passed out to be filled with dimes, the proceeds to be send to the Clara Barton camp for diabetic girls.

1941: Grace Buck, chairman of the Red Cross work reported the ladies of the society were highly complimented on the finished garments handed in to the Red Cross headquarters, also for their service on the Mobile Unit. As there was a shortage of tin, the group earned $2 on what they saved.

1945 A memorial plaque was presented by the ladies aid to the church in honor and memory of our boys and girls serving in World War 2, also gift packages were sent to those in service.

1956 The group was asked for books of green stamps, which they sent so a vacuum cleaner could be obtained for Camp Unirondack, also $5 was sent to the housekeeping department. The association paid the expense of shipping the clothing collected by the Religious Youth Group” to Hungary.

1957 Mrs. Philip Spring , director of Friendly Red Door of the American Cancer Society explained the work being done, following her talk the group made cancer dressings.

1958 The association voted to give $10 to the operating fund of the St. Lawrence Theological school $7 to the scholarship fund $10 to the housekeeping fund at Unirondack, usual amounts to the Jordan Neighborhood House and Japanese Project, and to increase the contributions to $25 each for the Clara Barton Diabetic Camp For Girls and the Elliot P Joslin Diabetic Cam For Boys. The group decided instead of the usual Christmas party and exchange of gifts, they would send a remembrance to shut ins.

1966 During the evening news was received of the death of Rev. James Reeb. Telegrams were sent to President Johnson, Senator Robert Kennedy… urging immediate federal intervention to maintain law and order and advance justice in Selma, Alabama. Motion was made and approved to give $50 to help finance the Freedom Pilgrimage trip. Those going were Rev. Payson, Roger Scales and James Cappy.

In his introduction to the history – Rev. Robert E Payson, who was pastor from 1961-67, writes:
“May all who read this document of the living history of this women’s organization find in it the encouragement and inspiration to follow in the footsteps of this, their finest example of living.”

How heartening to look back at our history and see the values that connect us in one unbroken line. To imagine our beautiful sanctuary at capacity as our congregation brought here to Cortland great reformers, fomenting new thought in our community,

And I imagine there in the social hall, the hundreds of acts of care; feeding each other and the community… bringing tokens of care to nursing homes and shut ins one quilt leading to another. The story which began with sewing for our soldiers in the civil war, ends its telling in sending forth our delegation to the great Civil Rights march in Selma.

The habits of care and connection, of transforming the world for justice, of putting our hands to work wherever help is needed, these I see each time we gather.

Let us be proud that we stand in these same spaces, doing the same good work, part of this same great tradition. May the spirit of this church guide our hands in what they find to do.

A Legacy of Nonviolent Resistance

photo provided by bswise flickr.com

I would encourage you, over the coming days, to find some time to read or listen to not just the memes and quotes of king, but a whole speech from beginning to end. His ideas were radical and challenging, and arrived at with thought and prayer and astute analysis. I had called this reflection “A Legacy of Peace” but when we hear the word peace, or even King's often quoted words “We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means“ from his speech protesting the war in Vietnam, it might lead us to inaction or acquiesce. We must remember that King had a very intentional and courageous alternative to violence- grounded in a challenging set of principles, and grounded in regular personal reflection and accountability. King’s primary legacy was non-violent resistance. This approach was radical in his time, and it is radical today.

The King Center offers this summary of 6 principles of Dr. King's work, noting that “Dr. King often said, he got his inspiration from Jesus Christ and his techniques from Mohandas K. Gandhi.”

PRINCIPLE ONE: Nonviolence Is a Way of Life for Courageous People.
It is not a method for cowards; it does resist.
It is active nonviolent resistance to evil.
It is aggressive spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.

It’s easy to fall into the habit, and I notice the tendency in myself, of thinking that non-violence avoids conflict. But as Dr. King so eloquently expressed in his 1957  interview*, passive acquiescence to evil is not a moral stance. Instead King called for active “non-cooperation with evil” as a moral imperative. The kind of peace King sought could not be reached without resisting evil, resisting injustice actively.

PRINCIPLE TWO: Nonviolence Seeks to Win Friendship and Understanding.
The outcome of nonviolence is the creation of the Beloved Community.
The end result of nonviolence is redemption and reconciliation

This is in stark contrast to much of what we see in the world today. Whatever side of an issue you are on, it is so easy to get focused on “winning” but the goal of non-violent resistance was the creation of Beloved Community -- a just global community where resources were shared fairly, where conflicts (which are inevitable in community) were resolved peacefully, and reconciliation was desirable even between oppressed and oppressor at the conflict’s end.

PRINCIPLE THREE: Nonviolence Seeks to Defeat Injustice, or Evil, Not People.
Nonviolence recognizes that evildoers are also victims and are not evil people.
The nonviolent resister seeks to defeat evil not persons victimized by evil.

There’s a theory we were taught in seminary- the levels of conflict. At the first level, we are all just trying to solve a problem together, as the conflict intensifies, we start to rigidify into who is right and who is wrong. We bring in the authorities and the rules to sort out who is right and who is wrong. As the conflict continues to intensify, it’s not enough for us to win, the other must be exiled, fired, must go. And at its most intense, the other must be destroyed, it’s not enough for them to leave our community, but only harm to the other will satisfy.

We can see this right now in all aspects of our political life. But if the end is for us all to be together in beloved community, we cannot exile those we disagree with, even those who have oppressed us. Destroying the other cannot be our goal. It is the injustice that must be defeated, must be overturned and transformed.

PRINCIPLE FOUR: Nonviolence Holds That Unearned, Voluntary Suffering for a Just Cause Can Educate and Transform People and Societies.
Nonviolence is a willingness to accept suffering without retaliation; to accept blows without striking back.
Nonviolence is a willingness to accept violence if necessary but never inflict it.

Consider our story this morning about the Children’s Crusade. Recall the iconic images of the civil rights movement, of protestors being met with violence and responding peacefully. Another challenging ideal. Now we must be careful of how we interpret this principle. Too many people have stayed in families, in communities where they accepted suffering, accepted violence. But this principle says “when necessary.” Remember these justice seekers were already suffering, were already oppressed, and they were clear that it was necessary to resist that oppression. In no way is this asking us to accept any violence that might befall us. I think it’s important to remember that this is in the service of resistance- resisting oppression, resisting injustice. I think it is also important that we consent, that we are choiceful. Those young people who participated in the Children’s Crusade made a strong and courageous choice to be there, where they knew they might experience suffering and violence. And they did it because they believed it could help educated and transform. And surely many people who saw those images those acts of resistance and violence woke up to the reality of injustice because of it, and were called to action and transformation.

PRINCIPLE FIVE: Nonviolence Chooses Love Instead of Hate.
Nonviolence resists violence of the spirit as well as the body.
Nonviolent love is spontaneous, unselfish, and creative.

I remember the first peace march I ever went to -- how much rage there was, how many speakers spoke from the stage with hatred about people who proposed and supported war. “This isn’t a peace march, it is an anti-war march” I realized, I had thought all peace marches would carry at their core this principle, that nonviolence chooses love instead of hate.

King says elsewhere in that interview “The nonviolent resistor not only avoids external, physical violence, but he avoids internal violence of spirit. He not only refuses to shoot his opponent, but he refuses to hate him, and he stands with understanding goodwill at all times.”

Another challenging principle. Perhaps, like me, you can easily bring to mind people or organizations who engage in acts of injustice or oppression -- how easy it is to vilify them, to hate them. This principle says it’s not enough to simply refrain from violence against them, we must strive to keep love at the center. The King Center tells us that part of this work is “personal commitment: Daily check and affirm your faith in the philosophy and methods of nonviolence. Eliminate hidden motives…” So working every day to make sure we are on track not only with our actions, but with our inner talk as well.

PRINCIPLE SIX: Nonviolence Believes That the Universe Is on the Side of Justice.

How could you do it? How could you keep going towards justice when there was no sign that things would ever get better? King believed that God is a God of Justice or, for folks who don’t believe in god, that as he said “We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.”** King believed that we are not alone in our struggles, but that life itself prefers justice, works toward justice. I am moved and heartened by King’s faith, after all he had seen. He held this belief while he was deep in the struggle, and in the suffering of oppression , even then he believed that god is a god of justice.

Today as we remember Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and all those who struggled alongside him and in the decades since – struggled for justice and for an end to racism, let us receive with gratitude his legacy to support our own struggles for justice, our own striving to achieve the beloved community. King wrote and spoke eloquently of the tactics of non-violent resistance, and showed us what living those principles might look like. They are ours to inherit if we choose. For to resist nonviolently is a choice, a courageous choice, that comes from deep discernment. May his faith, his courage and his principles give us courage as we meet the struggles in our times.

---

* Video-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmOwgkCZQHg&t=172s 

Transcript- 

https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/interview-martin-agronsky-look-here 

 

** Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., “Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution.” Speech given at the National Cathedral, March 31, 1968.

The Stones We Lay Down and the Stones we Choose to Carry

Laying Down Stones

Spring of 2020, my partner Eric and I found a new Happy Place on Lake Ontario. We noticed, walking the shore day after day, that our eyes were constantly drawn down- unlike walking the sandy shores of the ocean where the ground is smooth and flat, the waters edge by the lake was covered with round, smooth stones making a bumpy and uncertain footing. These smooth lake Ontario stones are (we learned when we went to ask Youtube after one walk) some of the most diverse rocks in the world.

I have a lovely pipe of stones I picked up last summer, because they delighted me. I spent hours on end walking the shore, admiring, inspecting, choosing, discarding that unique diversity of rocks. I realized quickly there were just too many wonderful rocks, but I decided to give in to the impulse, Picking up anything that caught my eye, inspecting it, enjoying it, and making that choice- to set it down, or drop it in my pocket.

These special pocket rocks made it back to the deck to became part of a growing pile of treasures on a patio table. I found myself often inspecting, noticing, reevaluating, arranging, sorting. Then on the last day, putting my favorites (still too many) into a tub to take home with me.

Our spirits are like this, I think. We pick up all kinds of things in our daily lives. We pick up shiny sparkly things because they delight us, we bear the heavy weights of grief, of anger, or resentment. We can’t carry it all indefinitely, we need sometimes to pause and lay things down.

I thought perhaps these rocks could help us work on letting go, on laying things down together. When I empty my pockets after a day of collecting- there is a lightness that has its own value, it’s own gifts. Today we consider together -- What might be worth letting go to feel a bit lighter?

I invite now to gather a couple of objects, perhaps rocks, or marbles or whatever you have available to use for our ritual today. Sometimes it helps to get at the nebulous intangible things in life by having something solid, like a rock to focus our intention and attention.

Once you’ve got your objects, which we’ll just call stones for simplicity’s sake, I invite you to inspect them, notice them, and silently begin to consider, as you hold your stones, what is heavy for you right now? What feels like it is weighing you down?

Today we have shared stories and poems about betrayals about grudges, about worries perhaps those speak to you. Or perhaps it’s something different you want to let go of- Old beliefs, habits, stories, patterns, practices?

Or perhaps a goal, plan, or project you are ready to step away from?

Maybe a disappointment? I know I was disappointed not to be able to share my lake rocks with you all in person this morning, due to the blizzard that kept us all at home, so I am trying to let go of that.

This will be the practice. Choose an object, and as you hold it, look at it, imagine that it represents the thing that you are considering laying down. Maybe choose an object that reminds you a bit of the thing. Once you decide what it represents, ask yourself if you are ready to lay it down. 

Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. 

You can hold it as long as you like. 

Follow your own inner sense. 

If you feel moved lay down something you can do that at any time. 

I’ve noticed for my own inner journey, that deep things can take time to move, so Just take your own time. 

Perhaps are there things you are not ready to lay down, that you would like to lay down someday, but the process is not yet complete? … Feel free to hang on to an object, maybe keep it in your pocket, or on a table you see daily, to represent those processes, to let them go in a week or a month or however many years it takes to be ready.



The Stones We Choose To Carry

I hope your metaphorical pockets feel a bit lighter now.

I invite you into a final time of reflection - In the words of Julian Soto from their poem "A Rock in Our Pocket":

    “There is always the possibility that
    we can treasure what is in our pockets,
    rather than the thing we have yet to attain.”

As we enter this new year together, is there anything you already have that you would like to intentionally carry forward into the coming year- something that is part of you, or part of your life that you could choose to treasure, to carry with intention at this moment in your life?

I invite you to choose an object  perhaps one that is easy to carry in your pocket, to represent this intention.

Each time you touch it in your pocket, or notice it in a place you will see it each day, let it  remind you of this intention.

What we Carry, and Why?

This new year asks us, invites us to notice what we carry, and why.

To consider what we will lay down on the threshold of the new year,

To decide what we have carried long enough, and to lay it down

This new year invites us to pause and notice all the gifts of our lives, smooth or sparkly, to consider what we chose to carry into this next chapter of our lives.

Some choosing is easy and clear, but some decisions take time. Perhaps there is a question, a discernment, this new year that is worth holding and investigating until our hearts know whether they are ours to carry.

A Miracle of Lights

This Tuesday is the dark of the moon. It is no accident that this falls right in the middle of Hanukkah- as the Jewish months follow the cycles of the moon, and so Hanukkah always begins in the last slivers of light of the moon, and lasts until the first slivers of moonlight return. Hanukkah always falls in the month of Kislev which in our hemisphere is also the darkest, coldest time of year.

It makes sense to our spirits to kindle lights in dark times, but these little lights on the menorah are not for illumination, they are not to be used in any practical way, like reading a book, or lighting other candles (that is why we carefully separate the Shamash, the helper candle that is a working candle). These candles traditionally remind us of the divine, and of the miracle of lights.

Often we talk about Hanukkah as an occasion to celebrate religious freedom, but there is another, old tradition that Rabi Waskow talks about in his book “Seasons of our Joy” -- the rabbis in the Talmud emphasize the spiritual meaning of the light that burned in the temple for 8 days.  Waskow writes:

 “the single bottle of oil represents the last irreducible minimum of spiritual light and creativity within the Jewish people – still there even in its worst moments of apathy and idolatry. The ability of that single jar of oil to stay lit for eight days symbolized how with God’s help that tiny amount could unfold into an infinite supply of spiritual riches. Infinite, because the eighth day stood for infinity. Since the whole universe was created in seven days, eight since the whole universe was created in seven days, eight is a symbol of eternity and infinity” [p. 91-92]

Perhaps this December your spirit is full of light and energy, overflowing with abundance. Or perhaps your spirit is burning low. These lights kindled on the menorah remind us in this the darkest time of year when we might need reminding, that the light, the fuel of the spirit is different than the fuel in our cars. That the light of our spirits can be renewed in unexpected ways, even when we cannot imagine our dim light ever being bright again. For theists, it is God that renews that fuel for the spirit. And for folks who are not sure about God, we remember the Spirt of Life, the web of life, the beloved community can surprise us with help to renew our spirit. So if you are full of energy and joy just now, perhaps you will be the source of the light for others. If you are feeling low, remember that miracle of lights, that relights our own spirit even in a season when light is scarce.

As I was watching Rev. Joanna’s video about lighting a menorah, she explained that the lights “These candles are meant to be just ornamental, just to bring joy, not to be a functional source of light and illumination to a space.” I had never really understood that before. The more I thought about it, the more I could see the wisdom of it.

This distinction reminds me of the care we have to take for our own spirits, and the light of our beloved community. It’s easy to use every last drop of ourselves in our work, and indeed the work is endless. We light these candles simply to remind us of that which is sacred. This year the lights of the Hanukkah menorah speak to me of the lights we preserve only to feed our spirits with beauty. They speak to me of the importance of things which exist in the world just to be enjoyed, not for their utility. That includes us -- each of us with our inherent worth and dignity. Though our work is important, our inner light, our life is sacred just simply being.

What the Soul Wants

Photo of the author playing Cunégonde in a High School Production of Candide

Here is a story from my own life, that some of you have heard before. It is one of the stories that I still use as a touchstone today when trying to discern my path.

When I was a little girl, I wanted more than anything to get a chance to be in a musical, like the young performers in “Annie” that was so popular at the time. Singing and dancing were sources of great joy to me. I spent hours singing or dancing along with the soundtracks to musicals, and later to pop songs and operas. I was part of the drama club in high school, and those experiences, that community provided many of my best friendships and favorite experiences. When it was time to go to college, I decided to go for it- to pursue my greatest joy. The program I chose was not what I expected -- 400 young singers all grinding through a factory- like obstacle course of a program. Only grad students, special ones at that, got to be part of the opera program that had appealed to me when I chose the school.

I worked hard- really hard. My friends and I spent most of the day every day in our practice rooms. I was unhappy. I became depressed. But it was hard to know… perhaps this was just what it took to become a singer. Perhaps grinding it out and persevering would help me achieve my dreams.

One bright spot my freshman year was a class called “Women in Ancient Israel – a feminist hermeneutic of the Hebrew scriptures.” This blew my mind. I had never been in a room full of other feminist before, and I had no idea feminism had anything to say about scriptures. The research we did was challenging and engaging. At the end of the semester the professor encouraged me to submit my paper to a competition- so affirming! I wrote in my journal” I wonder if it means anything that my favorite class is “Women in Ancient Israel”

Where music had felt like a great flood of creativity and energy before, now it felt like one of those places where the creek finally fizzles out into a shallow dry place. I grew increasingly depressed, but still I persisted. I went on to graduate school, where I still never had the chance to sing any of the music I loved in the practice room, much less get on stage with the opera. Finally I had a big memory freeze during a voice jury. My advisor encouraged me to take a year off and rethink. It was devastating. But also…

What a relief it would be to finally stop pushing against the wall, to stop dragging myself down this dry path, to stop practicing every day. There was a lightness when I thought of this decision. A cascade of decisions followed- not only would I leave school, but I would stop practicing. I would just see who I was without the disciple of practicing every day. For a year I was going to just be a normal young adult- get an office job, have fun on the weekends. It quickly became clear that this was the right choice.

But after a couple years of working in office jobs, it was clear this wasn’t right either. I had gotten a decent entry level job at a company with principled values (even if I didn’t agree with all of them) and a path for advancement. I was okay at it, but my spirit was restless. I began a period of thoughtful discernment, and the light began to slowly dawn that I would like to try being a Unitarian Universalist minister.

Here's what is important to me about that story- that experience of how it feels to be trudging down that dwindling dry path. To me, this is what it sounds like when the universe is saying “you can do that if you want, you are free to choose, but that’s not where the energy of creation is flowing.”

Another touchstone moment is that voice jury where my memory failed. It was crushing, that outcome, that moment, but now I see it as one of those turning points that released me from something when I couldn’t release myself.

I think of that restless feeling I had working in that office, that suggested something more was possible.

I remember how the energy moved in me during my feminist hermeneutic class in college, I remember how it felt similar as I thought about going to seminary, how the way opened like a crack in stone through which water trickles, and opened out into a flowing stream as I moved along it. There was a sense of invitation, of a way opening as I traveled it.

I kind of thought once I had made that big decision to enter the ministry, I was done with discernment. Here’s something else I learned; discernment is not just about the big choices, this career or that one, this place to live or that one. We make big and little decisions all the time in life, for as long as we live. Even though I feel so clear ministry is the right path for me, each day I must discern step by step the path I make by walking.

I also learned that Discernment is not just about moving towards what feels good, or easy. For example, part of ministry is being with people who are struggling, being with our challenges as a community and as a world. But I notice a kind of way I feel when we know that something is the right thing to do, even when it is hard? For me there is a feeling of deep resonance, maybe it’s that voice of the genuine speaking. I sense that staying on the hard path will matter, that it will connect me to something sacred, to the deep parts of myself, to the person I most want to be.

There are lots of ways to make decisions. You can write up a pro and con list, and total them up. You can follow the crowd, the path of least resistance. Ask for advice, or experiment. Some decisions can be made quickly, lightly. If you are getting takeout and decide to choose the restaurant with the fastest service, that’s a perfectly good choice, quickly made. But some choices deserve the time and attention it takes to hear the voice of our own soul.

For me, that is a voice that is sometimes slow to speak- it requires quiet, and patience and deep listening. What do we mean by the soul? Hard to say. Perhaps it is the voice of the genuine, as Thurman suggests in his  commencement address at Spelman College. Perhaps it is the “deep wanna” that Sr. Dougherty mentions in her book Discernment: A Path to Spiritual Awakening. I imagine the soul as a place where all of ourself comes together -- heart, mind, body—and where we connect with that which is greater than ourselves, be that the web of life, community, or the divine. These parts of ourselves don’t always agree. Like any group trying to make a decision together, you can go follow the loudest most insistent voice- I’m hungry let’s eat! But one way to think of discernment is taking the time to hear from each part of our self, and for those parts to come to some harmonious consensus.

The danger in sharing my story, is that others will apply that model to themselves. For example, I have a friend who says she is “addicted to drama” and so for her, sometimes events sweep her up in a compelling way, even though when she can really check in with her soul, she notices these seemingly important events were just a distraction. That metaphor I use about the flow of energy that is helpful to me might send her down the wrong path.

So let’s take a moment here and invite each of us to consider Thurman’s question “How does the sound of the genuine come through to you?” to discern, “when in my life have made a choice by listening to the deep wisdom of my own soul? As I remember such a time, what did it feel like, what has discernment looked like for me in my own story?”

I wonder what questions are important to your soul right now? Some big questions that came up for me as I approached the 25th anniversary of my ordination, which we celebrated last night. I am no longer the 28 year old who was ordained back in California-- who am I now? Does what I do matter? How does it matter?

I’ve found that even finding the right question requires discernment. Sometimes being able to frame the question so it feels just right opens the door to an answer, to a new path. Sometimes the question starts out as a wordless restlessness in my spirit, I don’t know what it’s about, but I begin by asking “What do I want? What do I really want?” I ask and ask, until the inquiry feels complete.

We are very theologically diverse here. Those of us who have a prayer practice, or who are prayer curious, we might invite the divine into our discernment, might bring the question into our prayer practice.

For those of us who are atheists, or for whom that doesn’t feel authentic, we can pose our question to our own souls, or our own Psyche, our own deep wisdom

I invite you to take another pause to ask ourselves “what is it my soul wants now?” or whatever question feels like your question of this moment.

Discernment is not just a single choice once made, it is a way of involving our deepest self, or connecting to what is larger than ourselves, as we find our way through our life’s journey. If we want to have a soul-oriented life, it will necessarily involve taking time to listen to the soul. And like any rich deep practice it takes time to hone and develop. At this time when so much is changing, I encourage each of us to ask what it is our soul most wants, and to bring the quality of discernment to questions big and small along our journeys.

 

Holding Hope

"The young ask the old to hope. What will you tell them? Tell them at least what you say to yourself. "

What a powerful challenge Berry offers. He was only 73 when he wrote that poem, back in 2007.

"It is hard to have hope. It is harder as you grow old,
for hope must not depend on feeling good"

And elders know deeply the reality that lives end, ours and those we love.

And if we’ve learned nothing else, we’ve learned that you can’t count on the future being how you imagined it.

When he wrote that poem, Berry was worried about a lot of the things that worry us- about war, about corruption, and especially about the earth:

“Because we have not made our lives to fit
our places, the forests are ruined, the fields eroded,
the streams polluted, the mountains overturned.”

Ugh. And it’s not better now, 16 years later.
It’s hard to hope, he says, but “young ask the old to hope. What will you tell them?”

I want to just pause for a moment, and let that question linger in the air to see if any answers bubble up in you before I offer some thoughts.

I’ve been reading Why the World Doesn’t End by Michael Meade, (68 when he wrote it in 2012) who looks at the many times throughout history when it FELT like the world was ending -- apocalyptic times. Meade invites us return to the deep old wisdom that has always gotten us through times like these. “something ancient and enduring must be touched for things to be made anew and fashioned again. It is the ancient way of the world to make itself anew from the enduring threads that have been woven and rewoven many times before.” (p. 82)

I find this reassuring, to know that humans have been through times that shook our foundations before, but somehow here we are now, despite and because of the past. Hopeful that we are connected by ancient, enduring threads to those other times of resilience and survival. These ancient enduring threads are often hidden among the weaving of daily life, but when things fall apart, we can see they have been there the whole time.

Meade feels, like Berry, that we who are older have an important role to play here. He writes:

“This world has always been at risk, and at times the only safety comes when the right risks are taken for the benefit of everyone. The traditional role of elders included remembering what was most important about life and how to hold ends and beginnings together when times become hard. … Having survived the troubles of their own lives and having grown deeper and wiser, they knew both how to survive and how to find genuine vision where others could only see disaster. Being "old enough to know better" they would know that life renews itself in surprising ways and that the greatest dilemmas can serve to awaken the deepest resources of the human soul. [p. 24 -25]”

Like the grandmother in today’s story,
My Grandmother's Journey, all elders know that life can be hard, and how hard it can be, but they also have seen seasons come and go. They know what endures. Meade continues:

“There is a deep human instinct to turn to those who are older for guidance when faced with obstacles or danger. Yet part of the problem in modern cultures is that those who are older often feel as lost as young people just starting out on the roads of life. When a culture falls apart it happens in two places at once: where its youth are rejected and not fully invited into life and where its elders are forgotten and forget what is important about life. Modern cultures tend to produce a mass of "olders” who live longer and longer, but a lack of genuine elders who know what to live for. ... Everyone born grows older but elders are made, not born.”

Wow, I feel that too. A lack of guidance for becoming an elder, a lack of societal recognition that elders are critically important to the health and hopefulness of society. And I was looking! This rang so true to me, that we all have a choice as we transition into the later stages of our lives, we can allow our culture to show us we are becoming invisible and powerless, . Or we can claim, and grow into this important role. I have been asking myself ever since I turned 50, “what is the meaning and purpose of this next chapter of my life”? So Meade’s idea was heartening to me. Perhaps I could help with “remembering what was most important about life and how to hold ends and beginnings together when times become hard.”

Perhaps for ourselves we wouldn’t do it. But the other generations need us:

“The lack of meaningfu1 elders leaves youth less protected, more isolated, and more exposed to extreme conditions, tragic deaths and wasted lives than they would normally be. Youth are at greater risk when the "olders" fail to act as elders and neglect to risk fulling living their own stories.”

And I have seen for myself the cynicism and lack of hope among Generation Z- my son’s generation. He tells me that it seems like the problems of our day only get worse: gun violence, climate change, racism, the growing wave of violence and restriction against our trans siblings.

The CDC report earlier this year said that 60% of female and non binary high school students report “persistent sadness and hopelessness” in 2021. 

The young ask the old to hope, and what will we tell them?

A superficial hope will not do; [Meade p. 57] “there are those who are overly hopeful even when tragedies occur and loss demands a deeper response. ..there is an insistence on “positivity” an avoidance of supposedly negative feelings, and a lack of the gravitas natural to the human soul and to life on earth. Some insist that “every cloud has a silver lining,” even when some clouds are lined with acid rain”

So where does real hope come from? The kind of hope that would help us get from one day to the next, the kind of hope that would help us do what had to be done? Berry suggest it comes from places, our places. And place to him means not a dot on the map, but the complex and sacred web of relationships that include the land, all the critters and beings who live on and with the land.

When I was a young minister, we often had visioning sessions that started with a blank sheet of paper, if the sky was the limit what would we wish for.

But in truth nothing starts with a blank sheet of paper -- every inch of our world is ancient and full of a unique community of life. We have so often damaged the web by imagining we can brush it aside to make space for our new vision.

So Berry suggests a grounded hope, one that literally emerges from our relationship with the land, with our ecosystem and our web of relationships. From our direct, embodied knowledge of our neighborhood and our neighbors in it. This is a solid grounding for hope, a future made by the intimate collaboration of this soil, these plants, trees, rivers, birds neighbors.

“Found your hope, then, on the ground under your feet.
Your hope of Heaven, let it rest on the ground underfoot.”

Greta Thunberg writes in No One Is Too Small to Make a Difference

“Adults keep saying: "We owe it to the young people to give them hope."
But I don't want your hope. …I want you to act as you would in a crisis.
I want you to act as if our house is on fire. Because it is.”

Ouch!

The hope we need for our times is grounded in action. Showing up, walking our talk, so it isn’t just pie in the sky. Perhaps we worry that we aren’t as strong as we used to be, can’t march or lift or push as we used to. But I remember how heartening it is to just have someone at your side, willing to roll up their sleeves and do what they can. It reminds us that we are not alone. To me, this is a great source of hope. The youngers need to know the olders haven’t abandoned them, are still showing up, still lending a hand however they can, and this is what our olders need too- to know that their lives have fresh meaning, are important in building our future together,

Part of our work in learning to be Elders, the path to becoming elders is to listen. We must Listen to “the voices that rise up …from your own heart” We have to tend our own light, shine our own light, because “When the people make dark the light within them, the world darkens.” Then we must “…Be still and listen to the voices that belong / to the streambanks and the trees and the open fields.” When we listen deeply ourselves and to our places, we see how people in other places are like us in our place. And it shows us “invariably the need for care / toward other people, other creatures, in other places / as you would ask them for care toward your place and you.”

The young ask the old to hope, and what will we tell them?

Berry suggests we cultivate a local, practical hope, that if we listen, if we pay attention, if we share our own inner light, it will matter to this place, and this place matters.

Meade holds out the ancient and enduring threads “that have been woven and rewoven many times before”, We who are older have a long view- we have seen things fall apart and come together, beginnings and endings. Our own stories have hope to offer, and the stories and wisdom of the ancestors. Generation after Generation, the teaching is the same -- we who are here in this time of great tension and change, must call forth in ourselves, we must grow the new thing that we are becoming, that our world is becoming, that our place is becoming, even this very moment, in this very place, in our hearts and minds and bodies. This is what gives me hope.