Rev. John O’Connor preaching, with and Djalai Babazadeh, Missy Shay, Charlyn Bethell, Guy Urban and some guest puppets!
We are so blessed to welcome the wonderful Rev. John O’Connor to FPW. You won’t want to miss this service. We come together in worship because we need one another. As we prepare for a change in presidential administrations, many are deeply concerned for the welfare of the nation and are especially worried about the more vulnerable members of our marginalized communities. Come and explore lessons from our past experiences, and share in the hopeful wisdom of luminaries, past and present, who offer us a way forward. Being ever mindful that laughter is a balm for the soul, there will be a fun bit with puppets for the Time for All Ages. Come, Come, Whoever You Are!
Rev. John has been an active member of Arlington Street Church since 1990 and graduated from Harvard Divinity School in 2022. He served as the Intern Minister at First Church in Belmont and was ordained at Arlington Street Church on April 7, 2024. He currently serves as their Community Minister for Good Works.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul –And sings the tune without the words –And never stops – at all –And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –And sore must be the storm –That could abash the little BirdThat kept so many warm –I’ve heard it in the chillest land –And on the strangest Sea –Yet – never – in Extremity,It asked a crumb – of me.
Sermon – Mosaics
I’ve been thinking of Rumi’s Guest House:
“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.”[1]
But what about the 7 ton elephant in the room — the one that burst into our guesthouse in November, seemingly intent on destroying what we, as members of a liberal faith community, hold dear. A trumpeting, stampeding, crazed elephant bent on destruction — leaving in its trail shattered bits of stone, glass, and metal that once made up the furniture of our guesthouse.
Rumi challenges us to welcome them all. Somehow, though, I’ve always envisioned these unexpected visitors — as temporary — certainly not here to stay for 4 years!
But the unthinkable has happened. The nation has made a turn towards the America First agenda. Americans understood this agenda when they voted; they were aware of Project 2025. They knew who the candidates were, and what they stood for. And they voted to place the Presidency, the House, and the Senate under the control of its advocates. While the pundits, talking heads, and pollsters will opine about how and why this happened, the fact is, progressive causes took a whomping.
So now what? How do we begin to cultivate a sense of equanimity that will allow us to move through the coming challenges with a certain sense of grace and composure? The “hope” Emily Dickinson so tenderly described earlier seems . . . well . . . rather delicate, “a thing of feathers that perches in the soul.” Hope doesn’t seem equal to the task, at least not alone. . . . I hope the war in Israel, Gaza, and Lebanon ends. I hope the government doesn’t really enact a policy of mass deportations. Hope seems . . . thin. While hope can help point us towards the goal, it doesn’t really give us a very good view on the terrain that lies in front of us.
So how can we make sense of what has happened and move forward? In her book, Finding Beauty In A Broken World, Terry Tempest Williams offers a way of healing and making meaning of a world, shattered. After the twin towers collapsed, she writes:
“How to pick up the pieces? What to do with those pieces? I was desperate to retrieve the poetry I had lost. Standing on a rocky point in Maine, looking east towards the horizon at dusk, I faced the ocean. ‘Give me one wild word.’ It was all I asked of the sea. The tide was out. The mudflats exposed. A gull picked up a large white clam, hovered high above the rocks, then dropped it. The clam broke open, and the gull swooped down to eat the fleshy animal inside. (She asked again) ‘Give me one wild word to follow . . .’ And the word the sea rolled back to me was . . . M o s a i c . . . A mosaic (she explains) is a conversation between what is broken. . . . What you see from a distance is not what you see up close. Mosaic became the way I perceived the world: Break it up and re-create a unity . . . In mosaic, (she says) I re-create an order out of the shards. . . (She concludes) We create the future through a rearrangement of forms, what we have learned from the past.”[2]
So how do we, like Terry Tempest Williams, pick up the broken pieces and put them together in some hopeful, meaningful way? I don’t know. I don’t have an easy answer. But I suspect the answer may lie in — picking up the pieces of shattered glass, stone, and metal — examining them together — and then wondering how we might fit them into the mosaic we are called to build in these challenging times. As the pieces start to come together, the outline of a picture may begin to take form.
In a way, each broken piece is a bit like a part of a story, or if you will, like an act in an episode of This American Life. As the acts unfold and build upon each other, a storyline takes shape, and reminds us of many familiar things we have seen, heard, and known before. Let’s take a look at a few of these shards.
Act I: I Wish This Had Never Happened
Picture this. Frodo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Fellowship, are lost in the deepest, darkest mines of Moria. Poor Frodo is carrying the one ring, a ring of immense power. Evil follows and threatens in the shadows. Frodo has already been stabbed with a dagger in the shoulder by one of the Nazgûl, an injury that almost killed him. And it will never fully heal. But he must continue on.
Frodo says to Gandalf: “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.”[3]
Gandalf replies: “So do all who live to see such times; but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”[4]
As a people of liberal faith, what will we decide to do with the time that is given to us?
Act II: In the Unlikely Event of a Water Landing
On January 15th, 2009 just moments after taking off from LaGuardia Airport, US Airways Flight 1549 struck a flock of Canada geese, causing an immediate and complete loss of power to both engines. In a true display of calm and skilled piloting, Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger and First Officer Jeffrey Skiles quickly assessed nearby airports. Due to their low altitude, they determined that a “controlled water landing” in the Hudson River was their best chance of survival. Office workers in Manhattan recounted seeing the plane pass just outside their their windows, realizing it was headed for the river. Eyewitnesses watched the descent, astonished by the precision of Captain Sully’s maneuver.
Just before the landing, Captain Sully famously instructed passengers to “brace for impact” — a phrase no air traveler ever wants to hear! Once the plane hit the water though, the well-trained crew swiftly coordinated the evacuation. The aircraft’s inflatable slides actually did convert into life rafts, and passengers quickly exited onto the wings and rafts in icy January conditions. Within minutes, ferries and emergency responders were on-site, assisting all 155 passengers and crew to safety.
Like Captain Sully and his crew, we too have trained for emergency maneuvers. We can do this. Turbulence ahead. Fasten your seatbelts. Brace for impact.
Act III. It’s Like Déjà Vu, All Over Again
As the late great baseball catcher Yoggi Berra said: “It’s déjà vu all over again.”[5] The nation is showing its racist, xenophobic, and isolationist tendencies again. It’s nothing new. It’s what America has shown itself to be throughout large stretches of its history, going all the way back to its colonial founding.
The enslavement and genocide of first nations peoples. The 3/5ths compromise. The Know Nothing party of the 1840s- and 50s that sought to take away the vote of Irish catholics. The Jim Crow laws that arose out of the collapse of Reconstruction. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 that banned Chinese immigration. The Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act of 1930 which exacerbated a world-wide depression. Here we are again. America First.
Today, it’s about trade, tariffs, “wokeness,” immigration, and mass deportations. It’s hard to deny; the nation’s politics have moved towards the America First agenda. Lest there be any doubt about this shift, just look at the election results. It wasn’t just a quirk of the electoral college. And so . . . here we are. It’s déjà vu, all over again. America First.
In the wake of the election, to the despondent and disillusioned, Venice Williams, NOT the tennis champion, but the black woman founder of The Progressive Catholic Voice, and the Catholic Coalition for Church Reform, offered the following:
“You are awakening to the
same country you fell asleep to.
The very same country.
Pull yourself together.And, when you see me,
do not ask me
“What do we do now?
How do we get through
the next four years?”Some of my Ancestors dealt with
at least 400 years of this
under worse conditions.Continue to do the good work.
Continue to build bridges not walls.
Continue to lead with compassion.
Continue the demanding work
of liberation for all.
Continue to dismantle broken systems,
large and small.
Continue to set the best example
for the children.
Continue to be a vessel of nourishing joy.Continue right where you are.
Right where you live into your days.”[6]
Act IV: Hold Onto Your Hat
North Brooklin, Maine, 30th March, 1973
“Dear Mr. Nadeau:
As long as there is one upright (person), as long as there is (some)one compassionate, the contagion may spread, and, the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.
Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society — things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly. It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. (Humankind)’s curiosity, relentlessness, inventiveness, and ingenuity have led us into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable us to claw our way out.
Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
Sincerely,
E. B. White[7]
Yes, as President Trump pushes forward his America First agenda, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. People will be hurt, especially the more vulnerable in our marginalized communities . . . all in the name of the preservation of some vision of the United States as a white, Christian nation. Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope.
Act V: What Would Jesus Do?
It’s hard to square white Christian Nationalist’s support for mass deportations with the teachings of Jesus. In Luke 10, Jesus tells his audience to: ‘love . . . your neighbor as yourself’ and then explains who the neighbor is by telling the parable of the Good Samaritan. We know the story.
A priest, and then a Levite, pass by another Jew on the side of the road who had been attacked by bandits and left for dead. Now, as co-religionists, as neighbors, Jesus’s audience would have expected the priest and the Levite to stop and help. But they didn’t. We and the audience think: ‘Bad priest . . . Bad Levite . . . You didn’t love your neighbor.’
But this is not the point of the parable. For then a Samaritan, someone whom Jesus’s audience would have considered less than, and certainly other than, stops and helps him. Jesus explains that the Samaritan was the neighbor, . . . the one who showed mercy. Jesus concludes: ‘Go and do likewise.’
In the parable, Jesus challenges his audience to expand the concept of neighbor, to stretch it out beyond members of one’s own nation, religion, and race. It is the foreigner, the stranger, the other whom we are called to love as ourselves; not just those who look, sound, and believe as we do. The good neighbor is the one who shows mercy.
But in our highly polarized society, it’s hard to imagine to whom I would even ask this question — What would Jesus do? I don’t know many people who didn’t vote the way I did — not in my family, my work place, my house of worship, my school, my social media feeds, or friend groups.
We have become so sorted that the only place I know where I engage with people who don’t share my political views, is in the halls of Alcoholics Anonymous. As the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says:
“We are average Americans. All sections of this country and many of its occupations are represented, as well as many political, economic, social, and religious backgrounds. We are people who normally would not mix. But there exists among us a fellowship, a friendliness, and an understanding which is indescribably wonderful.”[8]
After the election, the Franciscan Order offered this reworking of the Serenity Prayer, a prayer that is recited at almost every AA meeting:
“God, grant me the patience to work with the unjust systems I cannot change today, the courage to strategically enact progress when I know I can, and the wisdom to know that, despite structural oppression, I can still make a difference. Amen.”[9]
Where, how, and with whom can we build bridges, and not walls? What common threads bind us to one another?
Act VI: We Need A Miracle!
Ram Dass, begins his book How Can I Help? with the story of a scuba diver in distress . . . alone . . . 40 feet underwater . . . experiencing severe cramps . . . unable to release the weight belt . . . sinking towards the bottom . . . and almost out of oxygen. Ram Dass writes:
I thought, “I can’t go like this! I have things to do!” . . . I called out in my mind, “Somebody, something, help me!” . . . Suddenly I felt a prodding from behind me under the armpit. I thought, “Oh no, sharks!” I felt real terror and despair. But my arm was being lifted forcibly. Around into my field of vision came an eye – the most marvelous eye I could ever imagine. I swear it was smiling. It was the eye of a big dolphin. Looking into that eye, I knew I was safe. . . . I relaxed, hugging it, flooded with relief. . . . My stomach cramp went away as we ascended . . . At the surface, it drew me all the way to the shore. It took me into water so shallow that I began to be concerned for it, that it would be beached, and I pushed it back a little deeper, where it waited, watching me, I guess to see if I was alright. . . . When I took off the weight belt and oxygen, I just took everything off and went naked back into the ocean with the dolphin. I felt so light and free and alive, and just wanted to play in the sun and the water, in all that freedom. The dolphin took me back out and played around in the water with me. I noticed that there were a lot of dolphins there, farther out. After a while it brought me back to shore. I was very tired then, almost collapsing, and he made sure I was safe in the shallowest water. Then he turned sideways with one eye looking into mine. We stayed that way for what seemed like a very long time, . . . timeless I guess, . . . in a trance almost, with personal thoughts of the past going through my mind. Then he made just one sound and went out to join the others, and all of them left.”[10]
My friends, we are indeed on the threshold of difficult times. LikeTerry Tempest Williams, we can help shape the future by rearranging the shattered forms of what we have learned from the past. We can create a mosaic, a shared vision for our future.
I wish this had never happened. So do all who live to see such times; but that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time given to us.
Like Captain Sully and his crew, we have trained for emergencies. We can help land this plane safely. The nation’s history reminds us. . . we have been here before. It’s deja vu all over again. Continue to do the good work. Continue to build bridges. And yes, hold onto our hats.
Let us look for ways and places to water the seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time in others, waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. What would Jesus do? Love your neighbors as you love yourself.
And yes, let us be open to miracles. Around into my vision came an eye — the most marvelous eye I could imagine. I swear it was smiling. It was the eye of a big dolphin. Looking into that eye, I knew I was safe.
May it be so. Blessed be. Amen.
[1] https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/guest-house/
[2] Terry Tempest Williams, Finding Beauty in a Broken World, First Vintage Books Edition, pp. 2, 3, 6, 22-23 (2009).
[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
[4] Id
[5] https://www.google.com/search?q=It%E2%80%99s+d%C3%A9j%C3%A0+vu+all+over+again.&oq=It%E2%80%99s+d%C3%A9j%C3%A0+vu+all+over+again.&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIICAEQABgWGB4yCAgCEAAYFhgeMggIAxAAGBYYHjIICAQQABgWGB4yCAgFEAAYFhgeMggIBhAAGBYYHjIICAcQABgWGB4yCggIEAAYChgWGB4yCAgJEAAYFhge0gEIMTI0MGowajeoAgewAgE&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8
[6] https://www.facebook.com/venice.williams.16/posts/you-are-awakening-to-the-same-country-you-fell-asleep-tothe-very-same-countrypul/10161168478684205/
[7] adapted, https://fs.blog/eb-white-humanity/
[8] Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book, Chap 2 pg.17, There Is A Solution
[9] https://www.facebook.com/BeingBenedictine/photos/a-serenity-prayer-for-our-timesgod-grant-me-the-patienceto-work-with-the-unjust-/1040766581418128/?_rdr
[10] Ram Dass & Paul Gorman, How Can I Help, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, pp. 3-5 (1987).