Legacies of Strength and Love

Sing out praises for the journey, pilgrims, we, who carry on, searchers in the soul’s deep yearnings, like our forbears in their time. We seek out the spirit’s wholeness in the endless human quest.

Look inside, your soul’s the kindling of the hearth fire pilgrims knew. Find the spirit, always restless, find it in each mind and heart. Touch and hold that ancient yearning, kindling for a newfound truth.

Stand we now upon the threshold, facing futures yet unknown. Hearth behind us, wayside hostel built by those who knew wild roads. Guard we e’er their sacred embers carried in our minds and hearts.

Singing the Living Tradition, Hymn #295

I stayed last week in the “Rev. Mark Mosher-DeWolfe” room at the “Eliott and Pickett House,” a Bed and Breakfast in Boston that is owned by the Unitarian Universalist Association and used to house visiting dignitaries, or, in my case, committee members. Mark was a young, openly gay UU minister who died tragically of AIDS in 1988. He is also the author of “Sing Out Praises for the Jour- ney,” which I share above.

A brief biography of Mark hangs on the wall in the room where I stayed. The last line is particularly poignant. Speaking of his final ministry, it says he served his congregation “with love and strength.” I can’t imagine a lovelier epitaph.

Serving as your minister has taught me so much about love and strength, and I am so grateful for all I’ve learned.

When I first arrived at KUUF, I remember feeling overwhelmed and uncertain. I wasn’t sure that I had what it takes to be a minister. Now, I know I do. To all of you who propped me up, encouraged me, and believed in me over the time it took for me to find that strength and confidence, thank you.

Strength develops as we are tested. We discover our true mettle in times of strife, struggle, and failure. To all of you who challenged me, argued with me, expected much of me, and didn’t let me off the hook when I let you down, thank you.

The strength of a community doesn’t reside in a single person. Rather, it lives in networks of connection and dedication. Individuals contribute as they can, to strengthen and sustain a place, a people, a philosophy of life. To all of you who contributed to the life of the fellowship, by volunteering, offering advice or expertise, donating money, time, or supplies, or simply being present and being who you are, thank you.

I am incredibly privileged to have walked with you in times of sorrow, and to have listened to your stories of pain and loss. I have held your hand in the hospital, helped you say goodbye to those you loved, and held you when you cried. You taught me that when I let my heart break, it heals in such a way that it can hold more. To all of you who let me love you when you were hurting, thank you.

I have celebrated with you, rejoicing in your accomplishments, sharing holidays, establishing new traditions and honoring old ones. I have blessed your babies; I have made music and I have made merry alongside of you. To all of you laughed and played and worshipped with me, thank you.

To be allowed to love so many unique and amazing human beings has been a gift beyond measure. I will carry the memories of our time together always. Each of you is woven inextricably into my mind and heart. To all of you who let me be your minister, thank you.