Happy July 4th!

I pray that you all had a safe and festive holiday, whether that be with friends or family or at home watching TV. I am reminded more this year then of recent about why we honor this special day and why we celebrate being thankful for all who have fought for our freedom.

Independence Day was founded on July 4, 1776, when we accepted the Declaration of Independence. The Continental Congress actually voted to be independent from Great Britain two days earlier, on July 2, 1776. July 4 is celebrated as a national holiday annually but wasn't until 1840 when Massachusetts established this day as a state holiday. And it wasn't until 1941 when we recognized this date as a federal holiday, when employees were paid for this day off. Since then we have added lots of other federal holidays to the year, with the most recent being Juneteenth, when we honor the "emancipation of enslaved African Americans."

There have been many times our country has united to overcome hardships since the first July 4th: the war of 1812, the Civil War, pandemics and epidemics, polio, the Great Depression, World War I and II, Equal Rights, equal pay, Viet Nam, Cold War, Gulf War, Columbine, 9/11, mass-shootings, war on drugs, COVID, and the list goes on. But in these times of struggle and sadness, anger and frustration, we can also find grace and compassion, and hope and love. When pushed to our limits we seem to find a way to join together to help each other. We have seen this recently when Russia declared war on Ukraine - how the world opened their boarders and created funds to support the Ukraine people. And during COVID when we found ways to be together over video calls, and how stores found ways to deliver groceries, and how our own Heart to Heart created the Pop Up Pantry to go throughout the city to deliver food. There are people finding ways to come together for the good in the world even when all seems lost.

I was sad to hear of the news this past July 4, when we are supposed to be celebrating our nation, we find a total of 11 mass-shootings around the country. My heart and prayers go out to the communities and all who lost someone on this day. I pray that we allow ourselves to go deeper within our own souls to continue to fight for a better way - to fight for hope and grace and peace. We have to. We have had so many who fought and died for this country and for our freedom. We can't allow the sadness and anger to overcome. There is too much good in this world to not fight for it.

With prayers we all can find some hope and peace,

Robin Hood

Care Coordinator

UCC Still Speaking

A Little Holy Fire Please

Matt Laney

Elijah answered the captain, “If I am a man of God, may fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty men!” Then fire fell from heaven and consumed the captain and his men. – 2 Kings 1:10 (NIV)

Sometimes I wish the God I know was more like the one Elijah knew. Then I could call down fire from heaven to consume today’s captains of iniquity, like those who resist action on climate change and favor authoritarianism, but do not support voting rights or sensible gun safety laws.

Yes, a little holy fire would be nice every now and then.

The disciples were channeling Elijah when Jesus got a chilly reception from some Samaritans. “Lord,” the disciples asked Jesus, “do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (Luke 9:54)

Jesus rebuked them. Calling down holy fire was all well and good for Elijah, but not for them. Jesus himself never did that. Even on the cross he forgave the people who put him there because they didn’t know what they were doing. He knew that the people who hurt him were acting out of their own woundedness.

I have a feeling Jesus would also rebuke me for wanting to summon fire. He might remind me that those who cause harm are more likely to change through compassion and forgiveness than through incineration.

The light of compassion doesn’t come as naturally to me as it did for Jesus. That’s why the heavenly fire of Pentecost is so important and necessary. It enlightens, inspires, heals, and blesses, but does not burn.

Holy Fire, when I’m lit up with fear and anger, bring down fire from heaven to incinerate my ego and leave only love behind. Come Holy Spirit!

I’ve had some forced reflection on some of the lessons of slowing down and resting. That’s right! Covid got me too, causing me to spend six whole days in bed. Truthfully, I’m not back up to snuff yet! I was grateful for the daily check-ins from friends and family saying, “How are you feeling today?” To which I would reply, “Today’s flavor of the day is _____” filling it in with whatever symptom was plaguing me that day. While symptoms came and went, the one that persisted was exhaustion. And this wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that a nap would help or that you could push through to complete a task. By this time, I’m sure many of you can relate to Covid’s unique type of exhaustion that makes going downstairs to refill your glass of water an Olympic event deserving of a gold medal on a Wednesday afternoon.

P.S. I highly recommend Adam Hamilton’s book entitled, Why? Making Sense of God’s Will. If you ever have asked the question: Why do bad things happen to good people? Or questioned why we pray when people are sick, this is the book for you. I have a few extra copies in my office that I would be glad to loan out. It’s a quick read! Just give me a call!  

During these hot days of summer, when I’m taking some vacation and retreat time, and not feeling particularly inspired, I thought I’d just share three quotes that came up during early July, including the 4^th of July holiday.

One was Walt Whitman’s Preface to Leaves of Grass, which was the daily poem for July 4 from “The Writer’s Almanac.” This seemed like better material for meditation on this Independence Day than any other celebration I could muster. I’d forgotten the sterling advice for living given in the preface to Whitman’s masterpiece.

The second is a short poem from the Persian poet and mystic from the 13^th century (aren’t all 13^th century Persians poets and mystics?), Saadi Shirazi (or Saadi of Shiraz) that John Stoehr, editor of “The Editorial Board,” put in his 4^th of July blog, taken from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, Singing the Living Tradition. Saadi was also known as “The Wordsmith.”

Note: Our dinner times have changed from 5:30 pm to 6 pm throughout the summer. Book Discussion times remain the same.

Dinner at El Vaquero

Oscar’s in Old Dublin

Ah, growing older… a fear to some, an annoyance to others, certainly a new experience to all. But I’m alive and breathing just as I was at 20 so what makes being older so different?

Is it because I can more easily see the possible path to death as I look at those aging around me? Is it because I feel a creak or two or three that are unfamiliar? I hear the voices of those around me saying, “I just can’t do what I did a couple years ago. I still feel young inside, my body just doesn’t work like it used to. All I seem to do anymore is go to doctors.”

I’ve decided to nix all of that talk, no matter how true it may be. I had a wonderful role model in my mother who lived to be 99 1/2 and I choose to be like her. I will learn to adapt and hopefully make the most of the days I am given.

This is not to say learning to adapt is not a potentially difficult experiment. I am finding out what I can and cannot do as I age. Sometimes in my mind I see myself attempting something and find it doesn’t quite work out. Last summer while vacationing with our grandchildren’s family I decided I could take a turn on the tube behind the pontoon boat. Well, now I can say I’ve been there, done that as after being successful on the first run I started out again to immediately fall forward with my 6 foot frame lifting off the tube like a whale’s tail into the drink.

This spring I thought I would try snorkeling which in my thirties had been so wonderful. I watched the man in front of me jump off the boat, putting on his mask and snorkel tube after he entered the water. Not realizing I was jumping into 15 ft. of water I followed his lead. With a cloth brimmed sun hat on my head I bobbed up and flailed about struggling to get the mask and tube over my hat and around my face. Within a few seconds I knew it was futile and asked for help coming back aboard the boat. Rats! It had all looked in my mind’s eye so easy!

Returning from vacation I was excited to try out our new electric bicycles we waited for all winter. A few successful trips around the neighborhood and my husband Gary and I felt ready for the trail. A beautiful evening we took off down a path we had often walked and after I made a successful turn I heard a cry behind me only to find Gary in a heap on the grass next to the path. Hurrying to his side and aided by some helpful walkers Gary got righted around and we dejectedly walked our bikes home, puzzling out what had gone wrong. In the days hence when we found Gay had broken his collarbone I realized with my two hip replacements and a subsequent revision surgery on one of them it might not even be a good idea for me to ride. So, to our dismay the bicycles with less than 10 miles have new owners.

Ok, so I’m learning what I can’t do through trial and error. Hopefully I will learn to do the trial run in my head and not have to experience the error. So how do I learn to adapt to this aging process and still enjoy life?

Back to my mother. Her mantra was, “an inch is a cinch, but a yard is too hard.” She loved to garden and did not want to give it up so she’d go to the garden store, have them load a bag of dirt in her trunk, then back at home pail by pail she would spread it on the garden.

Another enjoyment was cleaning her home. (No, I did not inherit that gene.) As it became difficult for her she didn’t try to tackle the whole thing but one room a day, carefully dusting knick-knacks and polishing furniture. When she couldn’t get down on her knees to do floors she jerry-rigged a mop handle and a magic eraser.

Cooking and baking were another specialty for mom and hardly a person in town went without the blessing of her homemade goods. She was a frequent visitor to those sick or homebound with something warm from the oven or stove top. When driving was no longer available to her she resorted to writing notes and making phone calls. She also was a member of her church’s prayer chain and faithfully lifted up those in need.

How can I adapt? I don’t have to ride a bike. I have a path right outside my door I can walk on, fast or slow. I’ve decided not to go tubing or snorkeling again but I can ride in the boat and cheer on my grandchildren. I can explore new things less taxing on my body like painting rocks, sewing, reading and needlework. If I take the time to think I can actually conjure up things I can do I wouldn’t have thought of doing in my 20’s that will bring me fulfillment. In reality I don’t want to go back to my 20’s? Other than a more agile body and mind there were a lot of stressors I don’t have now. Adaptation is how species survive. I want to learn to adapt so I don’t die not having experienced all my older years can bring.