By the Waters of Babylon
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By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down, and we wept when we remembered Zion. In the midst of it all we hung our harps upon the willows. They that carried us away captive required of us a song. They wanted us to sing of joy. “Sing to us,” they demanded, “one of the songs of Zion.” But how shall we sing the Lord’s song in this strange land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill. If I do not remember you, if I do not hold Jerusalem as my chief joy, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.— Psalm 137: 1-6
From Your Minister
REsources for Living
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I’ve been enjoying looking at pictures of tiny homes lately—little bitty houses made of cargo containers, recycled materials or just a lot less traditional building materials. There’s definitely an appeal to a house that’s no bigger than you need, that pushes you to have less stuff and spend less money and use up less of the planet’s resources.
Coming Home
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1.
It happens with the simplest gestures:
a door swung open,
a light turned on in the hall,
the snap of a lock as it opens
somewhere unseen inside.
All of a sudden the world
turns inside out—
or rather, outside in—
and I can’t remember
what it means to be a stranger.
2.
“It takes a heap of living
to make a house a home.”
Perhaps. But we know
that homes are built
not just by living, but by building.
Homes are built by tricky choices
when you cannot see the result
and must imagine.
Homes are built by days
of patient effort, painting
stroke after stroke
until the color shows pure.
Homes are built by rebuilding
the ceiling when the ceiling falls,
stripping away old layers
‘til the wood comes through,
trusting that when you
connect the wires the electricity
will flow through after all.
Homes are also built by
slow minutes curled together
on the couch just looking.
3.
How to judge a house:
Are the foundations firm?
Is the structure sound?
Can you live with the neighbors?
Will you stay warm through the winters?
When you enter, are you captivated
by the quality of light?
Grief
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Each and every person on this earth has experienced loss. We may think when grief comes over us that we are alone in our mourning, that the smiling chatty folks around us don’t know…but of course they do. Being alive in this mortal world means knowing loss.
And grief—grief is the process by which we heal those holes ripped in our life through relocation, through divorce, through death. We mammals are designed to feel acutely the loss of one we love; it is a survival mechanism that binds parent to child, that binds together family group and tribe. The more we bring people into our hearts, the deeper the hole they leave if they are taken from us.
Grief—One Year Later
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In writing about her mother’s death, Meghan O’Rourke suggests, “A mother is a story with no beginning.” This is because a mother was always there—from that very first moment of your creation in her body. She’s a given, a part of the fabric of your story from day one.
In my mom’s case, her story having no beginning seems especially true. She was adopted—and never wanted to know anything about her birth parents. So her beginnings were shrouded in mystery. No one knew the story, not even her.
Working Through Environmental Despair (Excerpt)
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In August, 1978 I chaired a week-long seminar on planetary survival issues. College professors and administrators had prepared papers to deliver on themes ranging from the water crisis to environmental effects of nuclear technology.
As we convened, I took time to acknowledge that the topic we were addressing was different from any other, that it touched each of us in a profoundly personal way. I suggested that we introduce ourselves by sharing an incident or image of how it had touched us.
From Your Minister
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It was not a surprise when my mother died. Survival rates for ovarian cancer are not high, and hers was in stage four by the time it was diagnosed. Against those odds, she lived three years with a high quality of life.
Finally, when the experimental treatments could not stave it off any longer, she refused any more chemo and radiation, quit eating, and slowly let go.
REsources for Living
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One way of defining religion might be as a place for talking about things that are hard to talk about. What does my life mean? Who or what is in charge? Where did everything come from? What do I owe to other people? What is good enough? How am I connected to the other beings of the planet as well as the other people? Why do bad things happen?
