From Your Minister
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Before rebirth, there has to be birth. I have never given birth, but I have been privileged to witness two human babies, six puppies, three kittens, and a few birds and turtles enter the world. And I suspect all of us have watched documentaries of the same kinds of thing.
REsources for Living
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Perhaps you have seen the bumper sticker: “Born OK the first time.” That’s where we UUs tend to come down. You don’t need to be born again. We don’t hold with the notion of original sin, that babies are born carrying the sin of Adam and Eve’s rebellion. You don’t need to be baptized or washed in the blood of the Lamb or answer an altar call or accept anyone or anything as your personal lord and savior. We’re willing to trust that who you are is OK, at the same time that we hope that as a community we are learning to be ever more responsible, compassionate people.
In My Own Worst Season
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In my own worst seasons I’ve come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of red geranium outside my bedroom window. Read more →
The Adventure of Creativity
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Many years ago I was working very late one Saturday night on a sermon. This particular sermon was about the mythological Jesus. The main point of the sermon was that I really don’t care whether there is a shred of historical truth in the story of Jesus. What I care about is that it’s a good story, and it contains truths about life—about how to live my life.
The Garden of Eden
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I was nine or ten when my mother gave me permission to plant and tend my first garden. She was a gardener too. In addition to ten children, my mother raised several lavish beds of exquisite purple and gold irises. I’ve associated irises with her ever since, and so they’ve always been my favorite flower.
Where I Come From is Like This
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When I was twenty-three, I felt myself skating over the surface of my life. So focused on who I was, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was. Beauties would pass me by. I would find my mind in tomorrow already, not noticing today. So I started seeing things out loud. “This is the time when the daffodils are blooming,” I would say to myself. “The sky is pale blue, and there are wispy clouds way up high.” My brain would retrieve the name of the clouds. Cirrus. My fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Greiner, called them “horse tails.”
From Your Minister
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Thomas King, in his book, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative writes,
What if the creation story in Genesis had featured a flawed deity who was understanding and sympathetic rather than autocratic and rigid? Someone who, in the process of creation, found herself lost from time to time and in need of advice, someone who was willing to accept a little help with the more difficult decisions? What if the animals had decided on their own names? …What kind of world might we have created with that kind of story?
REsources for Living
Another Kind of Knowledge
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I believe there is only one power, one shaping urge, but I also believe that it infuses everything—the glistening track of the snail along with the gleaming eye of the fawn, the grain in the oak, the froth on the creek, the coiled proteins in my blood and in yours, the mind that strings together these words and the mind that reads them. Read more →
Swimming in the Deep End: Merging with the River
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Walking along the American River I came upon a tiny cove. I sat on some boulders near where the cove and the river met. In front of me the main body of the river rushed by at thousands of gallons a minute. It formed standing waves and white caps. But in the cove the water drifted slowly upstream. The downstream rush rubbed against the upstream, meandering, spawning dozens of whirlpools. Some were as narrow as pencils. Others were as broad as watermelons. Some funneled down a hand span below the surface. Some were gentle depressions. Some were wide enough to hold three or four little ones inside. Some winked out in a moment. Others lingered.
