Prelude Melodia Africana I by Ludovico Einaudi
Opening Words by Cliff Reed
The Old Year and its turning is behind you.
In the spareness and clarity of winter,
see the promise of a New Year.
Sense the possibilities forming within you,
feel the silent stirring of life beneath your feet.
The nights are still long, but they’re getting shorter.
The days are still dark, but they’re getting lighter.
Nature still seems to sleep, but she is awakening.
Winter is preparing the earth for spring.
Give thanks.
Chalice Lighting (you may wish to light a candle in your own home at this point). Words by Cliff Reed
We gather on this first Sunday of the year
to renew our flame of love and fellowship
in hope of better days to come for us
and everyone on earth.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
be with us as we gather for worship,
each in our own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
in this world in which Covid has not yet gone away,
and the clouds of war and climate change overshadow us.
May we keep in touch however we can,
and help each other, however we may.
May we be grateful for the freedoms we have
and respect the wishes of others.
May we hold in our hearts all those
who are grieving, lost, alone,
suffering in any way,
Amen
Reading The Optimist, the Pragmatist and the Part-time Mystic by Judith Campbell
At the turning and the yearning of the year, a cockeyed optimist, a part-time mystic, and a dedicated pragmatist walk into a bar. The three are discussing the nature of human nature – the meaning of life, and what they should have for lunch. Once they had ordered, the discussion continued.
“The Golden Fleece,
the Holy Grail,
the Meaning of Life
the Great Hereafter
…and maybe even the Golden Goose,
are all still out there.”
…said the Optimist.
“I will be the first to say
on these cold and empty muddled winter days
that ‘Hope is hard to find’.
And the road ahead
is strewn with fallen rocks
….and secret sinkholes.”
….said the Pragmatist
“But there is a road ahead
and I don’t have to go it alone.
and for this, I am grateful…hopeful even.”
…said the Optimist.
“Don’t we really all want the same thing?
A road forward
a friend who will listen
and enough faith in yourself
to set off on that road?”
…said the Pragmatist.
And then the Mystic, who had been silent until then, leaned forward and looked at the other two.
“There is one thing more,” she said.
“Beyond the road and the rocks and even the golden goose, there is profound awareness of the world around us, there is visceral understanding of our sacred connectedness, and ultimately, there is gratitude.”
And the cockeyed Optimist and the dedicated Pragmatist…both said, “Amen.”
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust. Amen
Reading Year’s End and Year’s Beginning by Keith Gilley, from Echoes
Years come, and years go, always the same, but never the same. And I have known and remember decades of life. There have been times of war and times of peace; times of hope and times of despair when hope was hard to cling to; times of love and times of desolation. And there were times of great joy, when all the pain and suffering of life were hard to credit, like believing in snow in the heat of the day, or sun-burn in a blizzard.
Yet these, and all the in-betweens, I have known. I wasn’t someone different at those times; it was the same me in all those times, the same me in continuity in each long decade of living. So are we all, people of all seasons. Can we then be people for all seasons? Celebrating, accepting, rejoicing, grieving, and sorrowing, as the die of the times is cast for us? We are here, each of us, with different burdens as with different gifts.
We would resolve to live fully, richly and wisely in all that pertains to ourselves. We would resolve to live thoughtfully, kindly and compassionately in all that pertains to others. We would be secure in the knowledge that we are all kindred, one of another, bound together in sorrow as in joy, in trial as in celebration.
Prayer by Cliff Reed
God of our inmost hearts, we turn to you
at the start of another year.
No one knows what it will bring, and we
make our plans in hope, not certainty.
As we set out once more on the journey, we pray
for courage and guidance in the way of love.
Help us to hold to the truth we know, and to
resist the lies and follies that beguile the world.
Open our eyes to see the needs of others,
our ears to hear your call in their unhappiness and discontent.
Make us listen to the Earth and what she has to teach,
for the sake of all your children.
In humility we turn to you, O God. Help us to
make this year a better one than anyone dared hope.
Amen
Reading In the Midst of Winter by Kenneth L. Patton, from Songs for Living (adapted)
The days of the year have stiffened in ice, and darkness has grown upon the land.
The season of cold and early dusk is upon us.
The sun has retreated down the sky, the living green has forsaken the earth, and the leaves have fallen.
The flowers no longer bloom, and the birds have fled to the south.
People approach the shortened days with gladness, for their ancient fear is no longer in their faces.
The heavy death upon the earth is no lasting peril, and the roots in the soil are only sleeping a long sleep.
People hold the turning of the year as a promise; and the renewing of life is their solid hope.
The time of returning light is known, and they ready their houses for the celebration.
The sun will climb the heavens again, and the darkness will be pushed back each day.
The months of snow will give way to the months of leaves, and petals will fall upon the earth.
The young will be brought forth from the womb, and the shoot will burst from the seed.
People will walk upon the greening grass, and their ploughshares will divide the warming soil.
In the midst of winter the promise is given of the summer season, and in the midst of darkness there comes the assurance of light.
In the time of cold comes a messenger of warmth, and in the days of death there is heard the good news of life.
Time of Stillness and Reflection In one direction by Cliff Reed, from Carnival of Lamps (adapted)
Our lives move in one direction, but we need not fear the destination. There are worse things than journey’s end, if end it be…
Worse things, like living without purpose, living without love, living without ever having seen the gossamer in autumn.
Spirit of Life we are grateful for the things we need for our existence – our food and drink, our shelter from the storm, the clothes on our backs; the basics that everyone on earth should have.
But as Jesus said, ‘life is more than food’. Help us to receive with gratitude the things we need to live; the loving touch, the word of comfort, the vision of earth’s glory, the sense of your presence in all Creation.
Above all, help us to know you in ourselves and in those we meet – though we sometimes make it hard.
[silence]
Our lives move in one direction, there is no going back. May joy be ours on the journey; joy in sharing it with those who share the Way. However long the road, help us, amid the tears, always to find reasons for laughter, song, and praise as we travel together.
May it be so, Amen
Musical Interlude I Due Fiumi by Ludovico Einaudi
Address The Optimist, the Pessimist, and the Part-time Mystic
Our gorgeous first reading, from which the title and theme of this service comes, was written by an American UU minister and friend of mine, Judith Campbell, as her Christmas 2024 “round robin” on Facebook. And I think it has much to teach us, in this new year of 2025.
I have spoken before about the journey of life which we are all embarked on. From our first conscious moment until our last breath, we are growing and changing, enriched by our experiences along the way. I love Mary Oliver’s poem, Summer Day, with its final challenging question, so important for all of us: “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Our answer to this question is vital, because we only have one life, and it moves, as Cliff Reed reminds us, in only one direction. So it is up to us, as sentient human beings, made of body, mind and spirit, to take every opportunity we can to make the most of it, in every way. To keep saying “yes”, no matter what the potential cost. Because choosing to shrink away, to keep saying “no”, is the path towards an unfulfilled life. Which I guess none of us would want.
Another lovely and very famous poem about our journey through life is Ithaka by C.P. Cavafy. In it, he shares his hope that “your road is a long one” and adds,
“May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbours you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfumes of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.”
The important thing to understand it that it is the length of the journey is the key for Cavafy; he believes that we are immeasurably enriched by our experiences along the way, even if we have a final destination in mind. He calls that final destination “Ithaka”, recalling Odysseus’s long journey in the ancient Greek poem by Homer. He explains that although most of us wouldn’t set out on the journey without a destination in mind, it is the journey that matters: “don’t hurry the journey at all. Better if it lasts for years, so you’re old by the time you reach the island, wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.”
From our first conscious moment until our last breath, each of us has the chance to experience new things, to learn new things, to grow as people. But this will not happen if we stay tamely at home, settling for the mundane, the familiar. The will to set out on the journey must be ours. We have to be willing to say that first initial “yes”.
And that is not necessarily easy. To give one well-known example, when Bilbo Baggins, a sedate and placid Hobbit of the Shire, who never has adventures, is about to start out on his journey with the dwarves in Peter Jackson’s film version of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, he asks Gandalf, “Can you promise that I will come back?” To which Gandalf replies, “No, and if you do, you will not be the same.”
At first, Bilbo, like many of us, refuses the call to adventure. But in a surprisingly short time, he realises that if he turns down this chance to have new experiences, he will regret it forever. And so his adventures begin.
That first step out of the door, the first step away from the familiar, can be scary. Saying “yes” to life can be scary. It takes both courage and hope to sling a few belongings into our metaphorical rucksack and leave behind everything we know. Because the experiences we have, the people we meet on the journey, will inevitably change us.
But here’s the thing: we will almost certainly be the richer for it, the better for it. Because we are all supposed to learn from our experiences. We are all supposed to take every opportunity to learn and grow. There is no doubt that some of the experiences we have, some of the people we meet, will not be good or positive. We may be betrayed, we may be hurt, we will almost certainly experience grief and loss along the way. The Pragmatist in Judith’s story may have a point. But I believe the journey will be worthwhile, if we keep our minds and hearts open, so that we learn from them and grow into the best people we can be.
It’s like Mary Oliver says: life is all about learning to “pay attention” to everything that is happening in our lives, both the good and the bad. It’s about seizing our chances to learn and grow from our experiences. Otherwise, we will reach our lives’ end and realise, with enormous regret, that we have not truly lived at all. In one sense, of course, we have lived; but if our living is without purpose, without love (as Cliff Reed writes) we will have not really LIVED. We will have merely existed.
In order to live rich and full lives, he writes, we need “to receive with gratitude the things we need to live; the loving touch, the word of comfort, the vision of earth’s glory, the sense of your presence in all Creation.” And we need to be awake to their possibility so that we don’t miss them while we waste our time worrying about small, mundane things.
It may help if we realise that we are not alone on the journey. Some Unitarians believe that “that of God in us”, the Divine spark which raises us above the mundane, is always with us. We can turn to what Cliff Reed calls “the sense of your presence in all Creation” at any time, simply by paying attention, by remembering to put our hands together and pray. Whether our prayers are in thanks and gratitude, in awe and wonder, or for help in times of trouble, we are never alone. At least, that is what I believe.
And if you are one of those Unitarians who does not believe in any divine presence, there are always other people to turn to, for support and help. Each of us has a “beloved community” which surrounds us, whether that is our family, our friends, our church or chapel community. It is a very rare person who does not have *someone* to turn to, someone with whom to share the joys and sorrows of our lives. As the Mystic said in Judith’s story, “”Beyond the road and the rocks and even the golden goose, there is profound awareness of the world around us, there is visceral understanding of our sacred connectedness, and ultimately, there is gratitude.”
Which may be a consoling thought. Between the divine Presence, and the love and companionship of other people, we always have companions for the journey. It may be hard sometimes to believe in “our common humanity”, when we read and hear all the bad things happening in the world. We may feel powerless to do anything about it. Powerless to make it all better. I believe that all we can do is our best, starting from where we are, using the gifts that have been given to us. And however much or however little that “best” is, it will make a difference for the better, so long as we are following the best that we know, and in good company.
This is why being part of a Unitarian religious and spiritual community is so important. Good, open-hearted, open-minded company on the road can help us to interpret the signs we perceive, can help us to say “yes” to life. Being able to talk to other people about our own spiritual journeys and listening with full attention to those of other people can be a precious, life-changing experience. As Unitarian minister Andy Pakula once wrote, “With each new day, we are offered another step in life’s sacred journey, an invitation to join in the flow of life that streams around us.” And it is much easier to make this sacred journey in the company of others. Otherwise, as Cliff Reed warns, in his Pilgrim’s Prayer, “The blind alleys of our folly wear a dreary look, we must break out and find a better way.” We need help to be shown “the path of deliverance from the byways and cul-de-sacs in which we wander, trapped in a maze of old ideas, old hatreds, old fears; condemned to tread the same old ground we have trodden before.”
May we have the courage and determination to say “yes” to the challenges and opportunities of our lives. And may we be the beloved community, strong companions along the way.
Closing Words
Spirit of Life and Love,
Our time together is drawing to a close.
May we enter 2025 in good heart,
aware that we are not alone in the world.
May we share the love we feel,
may we look out for each other,
and may we keep up our hearts,
being grateful for the many blessings in our lives,
now and in the days to come, Amen
Postlude Stella del Mattino by Ludovico Einaudi