From the Minister

I’ve been traveling with family this week, and this morning we woke up to rain. As I paused to listen to the gentle, steady drizzling, and to breathe in and feel the day begin, the listening became its own kind of morning prayer. Do you ever hear or feel a prayer as you begin a day? What words do you say, to yourself, to the day? Or do you enter into quiet, into silence, without words? It makes a difference how we begin, whether or not we make a space, a way, some time to rest our minds from constant grappling and explaining. Whether or not we open the edges of the stories we tell about the way things are within us and around us, to let more in.

One of my teachers says that spiritual growth, or becoming wise, is a process of discovering at your core a story that can hold all the other stories. A foundation that makes room for everything that comes your way, for everything that is. In that place, that story, vulnerability and courage are the same thing. Courage is not simply the energy or power to defend our expectations or habits or “knowledge.” Courage is the ability to keep the doors of our minds and hearts open, to change direction, to leave things behind and keep moving, even – or especially – if we are mourning as we go. “What would it be like to wake into our bodies, our relationships and our work as if seeing them for the first time?”, the teacher asks. Yesterday there was sorrow and joy; today there is sorrow and joy – but today we are not the same as we were yesterday. Nothing is the same.

This is a daily practice – to find ways and time to open ourselves and our stories to the way things truly are. To be willing to be lived by pain and sorrow and fear in all the ways we are willing to be lived by happiness and love and joy. To move as life moves, in us and around us. For the days of this week I wish for you, and for me, the gift of of opening to the day, beginning with breath, and with thanks. Sending love to you all — Jill

September arrives and soon we’ll begin a new Fellowship year. First, however, we’ll take a small break in the usual routine of Sunday services – a Sunday off, a chance to intentionally pause, a chance perhaps to consider and mull: what does this routine mean to me? What is it for? Whom is it for? The Fellowship is many things and includes many things, yet at its heart it is a worshiping community – which means at the very least that it is a gathering of people who are committed to a shared endeavor, a shared religious life. If you’re simply in the habit of attending, I invite you to take this time to consider what it means to you to be part of this worshiping community.

Our theme for the coming year will be “Building A New Way.” Whether we had decided to be aware of that need or not, the call to build new ways of being together, of being in the world, of sharing and caring, of searching for meaning, of building deep connections, of inspiring action – the call to build new ways is clarion. The world has changed, is changing, is in need of change – and we are part of the world.

Some of the areas we’ll continue to work on are living in a climate crisis, learning to understand and dismantle systems of oppression – racism in particular, how to be welcoming and inclusive, generational differences and bridges, and what religious and spiritual practices can help us in this work. Some of the new areas we’ll explore include leadership for now and the future, and especially leadership for the life and work of the Fellowship.

Enjoy this small break, use it well, and come again on September 10 ready to joyfully begin again, sharing the work and the beauty of being the UU Fellowship of Corvallis.

Church attendance in the US has been in decline for decades.  A recent article by Isabel Fattal notes that this “great dechurching” seems to be driven to a small extent by a long history of corruption and abuse within religious organizations, but even more by current American culture and priorities.  According to Jake Meador, editor-in-chief of the quarterly magazine “Mere Orthodoxy,” “contemporary America simply isn’t set up to promote mutuality, care or common life.”

Here at the Fellowship, in May we approved a new Covenant of Right Relations which aims at precisely those values – the nurturing of mutuality, care and common life – including specific needed skills and practices, such as engaging respectfully, listening deeply and clarifying misunderstandings. Now we need to make that covenant real and alive, between us, by practicing these skills with each other as often as we can.

Beginning in September, our theme for the year will be “Building a New Way.”  So much within the Fellowship which was lost during the pandemic still needs to be rebuilt, and we can’t re-build structures that are now outdated. We have to pay close attention to  the negative effects of current American culture and priorities, plus the long-standing obstacles of patriarchy, racism, sexism and so much more, and do better. Here, between us in this congregation, we aim for better ways of being together, so that all may feel safe and respected as we each pursue the journey of a religious life.

Have you had a chance to meet someone new here this summer? Have you practiced listening deeply to someone else’s story, or clarifying a misunderstanding? August is a great time to do so, as is every other month! I don’t remember who said, “Be the change you wish to see,” but it’s still worth trying. May we reach out to each other with compassion and love.

Daily spiritual practice is a way to stay alert to how things truly are, to find sources of wisdom and strength, to let go of what does not serve us, and more.  Here is a new iteration of my daily practice writings – a once-a-week reminder to maintain your own practice. I’ll begin with a new version of a piece I wrote a few summers ago – it still has much to consider:

“We were talking about loss as we walked this morning. About changes in how we work and what is needed now and what to do with feelings of inadequacy. Perhaps these are just small feelings compared to losses of life and housing and jobs, losses of connections to others and daily support from friends and family, losses of habitat and species and wilderness in the world. Nevertheless, they are feelings which shape how we move into the day, and how we face all the other losses and changes.

I have great hope for the future because of how much is changing right now.  And I know for certain that these changes include many, many losses.  This too is part of my daily practice;  to name some of the losses of life and beauty and things I thought I could depend on.  To acknowledge the sorrow and fear, and the challenge of finding new ways to live.  As I breathe in and out,  I let these feelings be present. Sadness and joy move in me and around me, while the breath is steady. Life is moving and changing and also breathing through me in every moment – therefore I am moving and changing. I give thanks for another day given.”  

Sending love to you all – Jill

My friends – all you who are members and friends of the UUFC – I’m thinking of you today. This is not a special day, not a holiday, but I’m thinking of you.  Because you, like me, are alive in this world, and there are so many challenges in this living.  There is beauty, and love and insight and compassion.  And there are so many challenges.

I’m reflecting on things I learned at the UUA General Assembly, and on the old understandings of the 4^th of July which are outdated, and on the fact of how much danger some people are in from war, and politics, and other people.  And on the facts of climate change and the chaos and the realities of how the changes are affecting us all. 

In the summer months, I always try to spend more time in reflection – on the state of the world, on the state of the congregation, on the state of my energies, and on the needs among us that we call ministry.  I am greatly buoyed at the moment by the upwelling of new and needed relationships, ideas, and goals within the Fellowship.  I am heartened by movements within our UUA – toward more inclusiveness, and more acknowledgement of inequality.  I am inspired by visions of a future which build on the past, but keep us moving forward. 

In these summer months I invite you to reflect as well.  Reflect on how you are related to the Fellowship – to people and programs and visions.  Reflect on where you are uncomfortable – which may be just where you are ready to learn more.  Reflect on how you can add to the store of wisdom and compassion and strength among us.  And most of all – keep coming, keep connecting, keep meeting people, and keep learning.  This committed community which we share is a precious resource, which depends upon, and helps, all of us.   Jill

Good morning friends — I’m reading a collection of poems titled “How To Love The World” (James Crews). The title itself has become my daily practice for now. It is one of the essential religious questions, at the edge of learning and growth. It seems that the more we know, or think we know, the harder it is to love the world. The “facts” are not very encouraging. 

Buddhist teachings have addressed this question for centuries. They teach that what we call the ego – a major part of how we interact with and interpret the world – is biased according to its own needs. The ego in each of us interprets information to satisfy its limited needs and ignores everything else. This “ignorance” is the source of our suffering, they say, and suffering makes it hard to love the world. It takes a courageous outlook to “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by ignorance.”  

I’m learning that daily practice is simply a way to try to love the world, every day, over and over again. It is a way to step aside from the ego, a little bit (though whether or not we are ever successful at that I do not know), and let ourselves be present to what is true and real in the moment, starting with breath, air, light, sky, earth, living and dying. Most days, I don’t have a good answer for how to love the world, but almost every day I am convinced that it is worth trying, worth the effort. And I’m pretty sure it can only be done by loving one thing at a time – one thing, and then another, and then perhaps another.  Here in this small part of earth, where clouds move over the hills and the air is cool, I begin again by sending love to you all —  Jill