SERMONS 

Youth Coordinator's Sermon

A few weeks ago, I spoke from the pulpit in my role as youth coordinator of this congregation. On that beautiful May morning, the youth and I asked you to consider with us the question: why are you here? One answer we all seemed to share was that we are here to connect with one another and to share the wonder of our journeys as well as whatever truths we might discover along the way. To continue in that line of brave and lofty thought, as any good Unitarian Universalist might do, I would like to consider with you this morning the challenge of maintaining our relationships to the mystery and wonder of life amidst the flurry of activity that life can sometimes be.

The idea for this morning’s sermon came to me during final exams this spring, which should tell you something of my state of mind at the time. I was tired, I was burnt out, and I was wondering just why I had thought divinity school was a good idea in the first place. It seemed particularly ironic to me that the intensive study of religion and spirituality would leave very little time for my personal practices of religion and spirituality. Add to the intensive studying a couple of part time jobs along with the usual flotsam and jetsam of adult life, and I had quite an excellent recipe for spiritual poverty. Every day I raced from class to class and meeting to meeting, trying to “get it all done” without being quite sure what “it” was. I had become adept at analyzing beliefs and critiquing spirituality, but these critical skills limited my receptivity to that which cannot be taken apart and understood by the mind. The end result, in my case, was a very full brain and a rather lonely spirit.

It was our teenagers who saved me. The teenagers we possess here at First UU work hard to maintain a balance between the pursuits of the mind and the spirit. They are highly attuned spiritual beings in touch with that transcending mystery and wonder we Unitarian Universalists talk about so well. They remember what life is all about, perhaps because they have had less time and reason to forget. As exhibited by their reflections on why they are here, they are quite adept at intelligently considering the world and their place in it, but at the same time they value the sacredness of a good laugh and a good hug and seek to incorporate them into their daily lives. In working with the youth group this year, I have come to see just how important the laughter and the bonds we share are to our common quest for the sacred. For how better to honor that mystery and wonder than to laugh at the sheer magnitude of the task set before us? If we cannot make sense of it all, then at the very least we can find the levity in our situation.

Every day, as adults and as young people, we are faced with myriad choices on topics great and small. We must decide what to eat for breakfast and where to go to college, how to deal with the loss of a loved one, and whether to wear black shoes or brown. Every day is a journey through a million details, some trivial and some significant. It can be hard, when caught up in this whirlwind of life, to remember that there is more to life than simply getting through the day. This year, in my transition to graduate school and adult life in a new place, I have come dangerously close to forgetting to find the meaning in my days, or to attempting to explain everything in a purely rational way. Every time I stray down those paths, however, the youth group has always been there to pull me back from the edge of meaningless busyness or worse, the loss of all mystery and wonder in my life.

Take, for example, our recent Youth Sunday service. I had spent countless hours in meetings and at the computer, pouring through the hymnal and racking my brain to come up with a truly meaningful service. I debated and organized and rearranged and made everyone rehearse until I thought we had it down as best we could. I can’t be sure, but I think the youth were pretty entertained by the way I worried over that service. They knew, as I had forgotten, that it would all work out well enough in the end. The universe always has the last laugh at the expense of those of us who try to preplan everything.

Well, the morning of youth Sunday came, and all the hard work seemed to be paying off. We transferred the couches from the youth room to the sanctuary without any major injuries and everyone showed up on time, a major feat. The first service passed with only minor technical difficulties so that by the time the second service rolled around, I felt pretty good about the whole thing, though I was still a little too keyed up to remember to actually participate in worshipping with the rest of the congregation. It took just one special moment for me to remember. As the second service wound down and the closing words had been said, Andrew Thompson pulled several bouquets of flowers from behind one of the couches. It seems that between services the youth had become inspired and sent Jamie and Andrew off to Kroger to buy me flowers. They had noticed my hard work and they wanted to show their appreciation. They recognized the mystery and wonder of the friendship and laughter our group shared and they wished to honor one of its sources. Even though I spent most of my time leading up to the service wrapped up in the mundane details, that work had managed to lead me to a few precious moments of connection. That day, I worshipped when I saw their grins, when we shared a meal in celebration of a job well done, and every time I caught sight of those flowers gracing my dining room table in all their purple, white, and yellow glory. That simple gift reminded me of one of the most sacred and mysterious gifts of all – our connection to one another and the joy it can bring.

The opportunities to remember what is most important in our lives arise more regularly than most of us ever notice. Every morning the sun rises, a giant ball of fire in the east, and each evening it sets in a glory of russet and umber. Each day new life blooms and old life passes gently away. Every moment brings a new opportunity to appreciate the glory of our surroundings and the gift of others with whom to share it. I know I have been particularly blessed to work weekly with a group of young people who are predisposed to notice the good and the beautiful, even in the most unlikely of places. Spending time viewing the world from their unique perspectives has made it easier for me to connect to that which is holy and sacred, but I believe that there are as many paths to the sacred as there are beings on this earth. We each have the chance – and the duty – to find that in our daily existence that speaks to something greater than ourselves. Perhaps you find a piece of the sacred in the crafting of art or in cooking a meal for your family. Maybe your morning walk or weekly yoga class is a holy time. Your job might bring more good into the world, or your vote might help to elect someone you think will make positive change. Your connection to the greater mystery could be prayer, or even something as simple as sharing a smile with the cashier in the grocery store. The chance to access and honor that transcending mystery and wonder is limitless, if only we can pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and see our lives with gentler eyes.

I’d appreciate it if you would try something with me now: close your eyes for a moment and take a few deep breaths. Slow down. If you’re anything like me during a sermon, your mind has been moving quickly from thought to thought the entire time I’ve been speaking. Try to let those thoughts quiet down for a moment. Listen instead to our shared quiet, the gentle breathing of those seated around you and the muffled noises of the outdoors just beyond this space. Something has brought us together this morning to share in this service and now in this quiet. I might call that something transcending mystery and wonder, some might call it God, or Goddess, but regardless of the names we choose, we have all come seeking that mysterious something – that connection to one another and to all that is greater than our individual lives. Though we may not be able to explain it with thoughts or words, we have felt those moments of connection and we have benefited from them. When you are ready, open your eyes and see again, perhaps for the first time, the community of fellow seekers that surrounds you. Appreciate the glimpses of nature you can see through the windows. And congratulate yourself for taking even this one moment to truly connect. I don’t think any of us do so nearly as often as we should.

Every day we can choose to connect, if only for a moment. We can seek to integrate the holy and the mundane, the meaningful and the necessary. As the youth group weekly reminds me, even the smallest things, like flowers for a job well done, can lift us up and allow us to connect to the mystery and wonder in our world. Go out seeking the catalyst you need to provide that connection. Nurture it and watch it grow. Reap the benefits of an enriched spirit, one that supports you as you seek your answers and as you follow your truths.