Sermons

Preacher: Rev. Margaret A. Beckman

READINGS

Hebrew Scriptures: Psalm 13
1 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I bear pain[a] in my soul,
and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

3 Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
4 and my enemy will say, “I have prevailed”;
my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

5 But I trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.
Footnotes: Psalm 13:2 Syr: Heb hold counsels
New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
 

Carrie Newcomer – You Can Do This Hard Thing
There at the table
With my head in my hands.
A column of numbers
I just could not understand.
You said “Add these together,
Carry the two,
Now you.”

Chorus:
You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.

At a cold winter station
Breathing into our gloves.
This would change me forever
Leaving for God know’s what.
You carried my bags,
You said “I’ll wait
For you.”

You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.

Late at night I called,
And you answered the phone.
The worst it had happened,
And I did not want to be alone.
You quietly listened,
You said “We’ll see this thru.”

You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.

Here we stand breathless
And pressed in hard times.
Hearts hung like laundry
On backyard clothes lines.
Impossible just takes
A little more time.

From the muddy ground
Comes a green volunteer.
In a place we thought barren
New life appears.
Morning will come whistling
Some comforting tune,
For you.

You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.
Words and Music by Carrie Newcomer
©2016 Carrie Newcomer Music (BMI), Administered by BMG Chrysalis
 

SERMON

I remember being in the second grade and not being able to figure out what to do with all the numbers of arithmetic. We were learning to add and subtract. I was lost.

My mother made up worksheets with numbers to add and different worksheets with numbers to subtract. After school, I sat at her small desk in the den and tried to find the answers. She helped me. I am still not very good at arithmetic – to say nothing of actual mathematics. But I got through the second grade, which at the time did not seem to be a given. I had help to do that hard thing.
There at the table
With my head in my hands.
A column of numbers
I just could not understand.
You said “Add these together,
Carry the two,
Now you.”

You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.
My mother believed that I could do that hard thing – and so many other hard things since then. Our mothers taught us that we can do hard things. Parents believe that their children can do hard things. And our mothers and fathers and teachers and preachers and friends and loves know that hard things can and do happen to each of us. The other thing that we learn if we are among the fortunate is that rarely do we need to do these hard things alone. Not as a child working on the mysteries of subtraction and not as an adult facing the wasteland of a democracy in ruins.

Again – Carrie Newcomer:
Here we stand breathless
And pressed in hard times.
Hearts hung like laundry
On backyard clothes lines.
Impossible just takes
A little more time.
From the muddy ground
Comes a green volunteer.
In a place we thought barren
New life appears.
Morning will come whistling
Some comforting tune,
For you.

You can do this hard thing.
You can do this hard thing.
Its not easy I know,
But I believe that it’s so.
You can do this hard thing.
 

We can do hard things. We can. We must. We will.
We will do the hard work of coming to terms with the results of the election.
We will do the hard work of working with those with whom we disagree.
We will even find a way to work with those who actually hate and despise us.
But—not yet. Not today and maybe not tomorrow or the next day. There is a time for everything under heaven. A time to do hard things and a time to rest, recover, and regroup before doing hard things. Hear the words of wisdom as found in the Hebrew Scriptures in the Book of Ecclesiastes:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

2 a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3 a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

———————————————————————————
5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
 

While many Americans find that this is the time to dance, others find that this is the time to mourn. So many of us in the more theologically liberal and progressive religious traditions are feeling quite distressed about the implications of the election of Donald Trump as our 45th President. It feels as though our principles of faith have been rejected in favor of religious zealots with a single agenda – restoring the greatness of the white male who can and does control the lives and bodies of all others. And for those who feel devastated or like they were just hit by a class 5 hurricane, this is a time to mourn. It is a time to mourn the loss of the America that might have been – the America many of us thought we were close to achieving where all races and genders and sexualities and classes and kinds of folk could live together in harmony; an America of unity and equality; a nation that cares about our planet and the health of all creatures; an America where might does not make right and where bullies are not elevated to the highest positions in the land. That America – the one we now know is still a very long way from us. We mourn that loss.

We also mourn the loss of the opportunity to be part of history – the history that finally acknowledges not just the suitability of a woman as President but the sheer rightness of having a female head of government. That history will now be in the future and some of us will not see it come to fruition.

And so, yes, we can do this hard thing of coming together. But not before we have had a chance to feel and share our grief and pain at the loss of what might have been. And to those extremists who say that the opponents of a Trump Presidency are whining and just need to “get over it” and “get on with it” I say, “No. We will not get over it.” We will be able to move beyond our grief and sadness, but we will not “get over” the emergence of hate and violence and disrespect and bullying and sexual assault and racial profiling. No, we will not get over our opposition to the forces of division and cruelty that now grip our nation. No, we will not get over our affirmation and promotion of our Unitarian Universalist Principles. No, we will not get over our support for Black Lives Matter, for LGBTQ equality, for clean water, for renewable energy, or for a woman’s right to control her own body. We will not.

Alright. We are certainly entitled to our grief and even a bit of rage. Yet, we know that we cannot stay in this place of negative energy. The nation and the world need us now more than ever. Fran Korten is the publisher of YES! Magazine. She is an activist and an optimist and a realist. She has offered 10 ways to cope with what just happened and I will mention them oh so briefly. You can get the details by going to Yesmagazine.org. Ready, here they are.

Ground yourself
Breathe deeply. Go to a favorite spot in nature and really be there. Meditate. Find a favorite poem, reading, religious passage that has helped you before and read it quietly.

Allow the grief
Don’t suppress your feelings of fear, dread, anger, grief. Just allow them. But don’t wallow there; move on when you’re ready.
And allow other feelings to arise, too—they may surprise you.

Be with friends
This is a time for community. Share your feelings, your insights, your fears—and, especially, your hopes. Hug a lot.

Take a media break
Keep up with the news, but turn off the endless rehashing of painful stuff that you already know.

Take care of the children
Yours, neighbors’, grandchildren. They will sense your fear, and the very young won’t understand it. Reassure them that they are safe.

Reach out to anyone threatened
There are people who are especially afraid: immigrants, Muslims, Blacks, Latinos. Speak up and show solidarity.

Don’t dismiss the Trump voters
Remember that many of his supporters voted from a place of anger and despair about many of the same things for which you feel anger and despair: all the wealth going to the already wealthy, corporations getting all the breaks while everyone else feels stiffed, political power wielded by the very rich.

Think local
I’ll bet on Tuesday night there was something (maybe many things) on your local ballot to celebrate. Embrace them. And find the many ways in addition to electoral politics to make change in your community, your town, your state.

Take care of yourself
Yes, eat some comfort food—but then take those walks, do those yoga stretches. The whole world needs your energy, your health, your vision. There is much to be done.

Take the long view
Martin Luther King’s words can hold us: “The long arc of history bends toward justice.”

 

And then, it is time to wake up if we had fallen asleep. We are being called to join the movement toward wholeness and inclusion. We are being called to monitor the actions of this new administration carefully and consistently and to call them out when they betray us.

My dear Spiritual Companions, though you may still be tired and dejected, you really can do this hard thing of living your values and working to build a world where justice shall roll down like waters and peace like an ever flowing stream. We were made for this time and we shall not disappoint.

The great good news of our Unitarian Universalist faith is that Love Prevails. A Love that takes many forms and shows up in a stunning array of ways both natural and human. A Love that reaches out to every person, no exceptions. A Love that always finds us when we are lost and that will never let us go.

Love shows up. Sometimes each of us is the Love that shows up for someone else. We Stand on the Side of Love. There is a time to Love and that time is now.

Love for the earth and all her gifts and creatures – Yes.

Love for the immigrant – Yes.

Love for the Lesbian couple just married and the Gay man working in the factory and the Bisexual widower finding love at 70 with another man and the Transgender teenager struggling to find herself in a world of confusion and rejection and Love for the Gender non-conforming college student who looks like a boy dresses and walks like a girl and talks like no one else but himself – Yes.

Love for the soldiers, sailors, aviators, coast guard and marines who have served or are serving our country who are not weak and who, nevertheless, suffer from the ill effects of the horrors of combat.

Love for anyone wearing a hoodie – Yes.

Love for anyone wearing the hijab or the Yarmulka or the turban or the sari or the cross or the lotus blossom – Yes.

Love for our neighbors – all of them – Yes.

I want to share with you words from the Reverend Naomi King – UU Minister and daughter of Steven and Tabitha – posted online on Wednesday.
Number me among the distressed and disappointed by the choices my neighbors made this election. It is a weird place to be, a member of a religious tradition that affirms and promotes democratic practice. How do we go forward when the other things we affirm and promote are threatened by how we have practiced democracy?

Boldly.
Faithfully.
Riskily.
Lovingly.
Compassionately.

Indeed, the way we are called to go every day.

We have a grace period of a transition time to organize what our faithful response can be.
We need to settle down to how we can continue to work to make this world more loving, equitable, mercifully just, and compassionate.
We get to settle down to how we can still try to adapt and avert the worst scenarios of climate change.
We get to settle down to how we are going to care for and protect those who are at greatest risk from hate manifested in our laws, over our airwaves and digital connections, and in our streets.

This is a time of trial. There were trials aplenty before this election. If the hate messaging continues and manifests further, then there will be more.

But if we are among the love people, the folk called to be part of changing the world without hate, we have much work, much spiritual, legal, practical, and relational work to do.

Love is not about drawing in and drawing smaller circles. That does not keep hate out or turn hate away. Love asks us to be bold and risky and vulnerable and faithful to these amazing promises we have made.

We’re still in this together. Our neighbors are still everyone in the whole world, those neighbors we are called to love, including the ones that are angry and afraid or that we who have suffered violence from hatred have learned to fear.

How do we go forward? Same as before and also more: more organization, more effort, more faithful risk especially to create sanctuary and protect those most in danger. Love and Justice have been our calling in other times of hatred in the past, one that we often struggled to embrace because this is difficult and painful as well as astounding and beautiful work. Love and Justice were our calling in the middle of hate made manifest before this election. Love and Justice are our calling now.
Love unite us, guide us, strengthen us, encourage us for the way ahead.
Love hold us, comfort us, & help us risk making way & welcome for all in need.
Love challenge us each & every day to meet hate & challenge & change it.
Love carry us on & let us be your voice singing as we work for change.
Love carry us on & let us be your hands making a more generous world.
Love carry us on & let us be part of the way of healing & hope now & forward.
 

Can I get an Amen on that?

We know that work is hard. We know that we can and will do this hard thing. And to help us along our way, we will sing. When tyrants tremble at the sound of freedom ringing – How can I keep from singing!

Blessed Be. I Love You. Amen.