Quest Archives
Quest Submission Guidelines
by Ken Sawyer, senior minister, The First Parish in Wayland, Massachusetts
In Kill Duck Before Serving: Red Faces at The New York Times, the Times admits to some of the more amusing corrections it has had to make in its 150-year history. For instance, the paper had to admit that “Because of a transcription error, an article about Senator Alfonse M. D’Amato’s remarks about Judge Lance A. Ito misquoted the senator at one point. In his conversation with radio host Don Imus, he said: ‘I mean, this is a disgrace. Judge Ito will be well known.’ He did not say, ‘Judge Ito with a wet nose.’” The Times also confesses that “A column about restaurants in Beijing misidentified Shen Xuanhai, owner of the home that is now the Bamboo Garden Hotel…. Mr. Shen [is] a prominent businessman and government official; he [is] not the Qing Dynasty palace eunuch who designed the gardens.”
Of course, church publications have also been known to make mistakes on occasion. Just this past Christmas, for example, one of our churches in California decided to type out the words to “Joy To the World” in the order of service so that, as the minister tells it, they could use the “REAL words” and not the UU Hymnal version. “But,” says the minister, “our office manager made a typo, so instead of saying ‘Joy to the world, the Savior reigns,’ it read ‘Joy to the world, the Savior resigns.’ So much for restoring theological meaning.”
Another colleague reports in the same vein that “Our last year's community Christmas Eve service was attended by over a thousand people from many churches. Imagine our chagrin when we noticed that the words in the order of service for ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’ read ‘Peace on Earth, Good Will to Me.’ I could only hope that people realized it was a typo….” My church has even done something like that ourselves, to our own home-grown hymn, “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.” The final lines look forward to “the age of gold: when peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling….” One year the words we printed up looked forward to “the age of gold: when peach shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling,” an interesting fashion prognosis, but not what Edmund Hamilton Sears had in mind.
But I want to return to the world of newsprint for a few final citations, the last of which will finally get us to the title and topic of the sermon. These were collected by Richard Lederer and printed in one of my major sources of information and sanity, The Funny Times. I will only share a few. “In Frank Washburn’s March column, Rebecca Varney was erroneously identified as a bookmaker. She is a typesetter.” “Our article about Jewish burial customs contained an error: Mourners’ clothing is rent—that is, torn—not rented.” “In the City Beat section of Friday’s paper, firefighter Dwight Brady was misidentified. His nickname in the department is ‘Dewey.’ Another firefighter is nicknamed ‘Weirdo.’ We apologize for our mistake.”
I don’t know, I think those are believable. Not all alleged corrections are. Lederer includes a correction that reads, “We apologize to our readers who received, through an unfortunate computer error, the chest measurements of members of the Female Wrestlers Association instead of the figures on the sales of soybeans to foreign countries.” I just doubt that actually happened.
But I am willing to accept the probable truth of my favorite. It is a two-sentence retraction: “Just to keep the record straight, it was the famous Whistler’s Mother, not Hitler’s, that was exhibited. There is nothing to be gained in trying to explain how this error occurred.”
Nothing to be gained.
I feel like those two sentences suggest a whole story about the hour the writer spent between his or her realization of the error, which was easy enough to describe in the first sentence, and when he or she wrote the second sentence, giving up on what I imagine was a fervent search for some other way of concluding the notice.
I picture the writer trying to get across that it was only because the cell phone reception was faulty, and a deadline had arrived inconveniently, and the usual person was out with the flu, and this, and that, and not that anyone at the paper thought that the famous painting was really of the mother of Adolph Hitler, nor that the newspaper staff had anything but revulsion for Hitler, although maybe it shouldn’t be held against his mother.… Did I mention that this was done by cell phone?
I picture the writer wondering for a mad moment if there shouldn’t be a whole column devoted to explaining the mistake and how it happened. It could take longer than that to get the facts across, when you really stop to think about it.
And I picture the writer, at just that point, realizing that the only thing to say, after acknowledging the error, is that “There is nothing to be gained in trying to explain how this error occurred.” What can the writer do but throw herself or himself on the mercy and good sense of the readers, who at their most wise understand that they are fellow members of the human community of the fallible?
We live in a world where ridiculous errors abound. We try to contribute as few as we can to the total, but we make some, too, and others just happen in ways past explaining. What can we say but we’re sorry? What can we do but move on?
So much of religion, so many of our deepest personal issues, reside in this area of responsibility, acceptance, forgiveness, and blame. I am not hoping to resolve it all here. I only want to take up one part of the puzzle, especially as we begin a new year. I just want to affirm that there are times when there is nothing to be gained from further attention to this issue or that, this grievance or that, this expectation or that.
But stop for a moment, before you decide that you never again have to visit Aunt Eunice, or listen to your brother complain about your father, or whatever. Most of us have some of those “whatevers,” matters we’ve struggled with, tried to cope with, kept hoping would finally work out though it seems that they never do and maybe never will.
Sometimes what’s called for is perseverance, because maybe things will work out at last, or maybe they never will but it’s worth hanging in there anyway, because as difficult as Eunice can be, your visits seem to make her life more pleasant. There is something to be gained, unwelcome as the cost may be to you.
That fact is another part of the puzzle and worth its own sermon, I guess. As the Bible says, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:…A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;…a time to get and a time to lose; a time to keep and a time to cast away.” And figuring out which time is which is often no easy matter.
Maybe you do want to keep visiting Eunice, but maybe it is time to tell your brother you don’t want to hear any more complaints about your dad. Maybe you want to hold on to all that camera equipment for a while longer, because you still may find time to use it, but maybe you could gain some bookshelf space if you could admit you just are never going to teach yourself Chinese.
There is a time when you can give up the effort: there’s just nothing to be gained. I once had a broker who recommended stock after stock whose share price would promptly and irreversibly plummet. I about broke even because I picked a few stocks on my own, and they all did well. There was not much money involved, and I don’t know who I ever imagined would care, but I saved the records of this time in a manila envelope, so that if I did ever have cause to tell the tale, to lodge my complaint, I could substantiate it. I had the numbers. Last month I threw the folder away. I mean really, there was nothing to be gained. The guy was my broker in the late ‘70s.
I threw away an old pair of sneakers, too. I have even gotten to the point where I think I’m about ready to throw away my notes from college, since I haven’t had reason to refer to them once in the last 35 years. But I know for a lot of us it’s the old arguments, the old explanations, old understandings, that are hard to let go of.
In fact, for some of us, it’s hard to let go of almost anything. Truth is, that particular pair of sneakers was so beat up, I could have thrown them out two years ago. For people who don’t move on easily, it may help to have holidays like New Year’s and rituals like spring cleaning. Personally, I think of a computer virus that came through. Its name was BadTrans, it spread quickly and widely, but was said to be not very damaging, so I was a little slow in getting it out, giving it a chance suddenly to eat every email message I’ve ever saved at my main email address.
And I had saved a lot, creating dozens of file folders, many of them with dozens and dozens of messages. I could recreate for you the entire interaction around any number of difficult situations. It would have been no trouble to explain and justify, even celebrate, my role in these various discussions. But why? What was to be gained?
At least, that seems to have been BadTrans’ thinking, for it cleaned out every folder I had. And while this was not my first thought, I’ve been wondering since if BadTrans didn’t do me a favor. Now if I could just get it to take on my garage.
I recently visited an area in India that has the highest rainfall in the world, mostly in the spring. In one village this causes their bridge, made of local vines, to wash out. Every spring, the swollen river sweeps the year-old bridge away. When the river recedes, they gather vines and build a new bridge. But here’s the thing: rather than feeling put upon, the local people have decided to regard the loss of the bridge each year as a sign of good luck. When it happens, they rejoice.
It’s an attitude I’m trying to foster in myself at the start of this new year. Maybe I should regard a December visit from BadTrans as a holiday treat, and if it can’t be counted on to come on schedule, maybe I should do its work myself and every year let the old folders go. I should probably spend a little while considering what things deserved to be saved, whose time it is to keep, but as to the rest, when there’s nothing to be gained, the time has come to cast away.
But this notion that there is nothing to be gained in some behaviors doesn’t just apply to how we handle the past. It comes up over and again every day. You’re trying to explain how Hitler got into an art review, and you just have to throw up your hands. You’re tempted to try one more time to achieve some goal you’ve failed at repeatedly, like trying to change some behavior pattern in your child or partner, and it comes to you, reasonable as your effort may be, it’s not going to lead to anything but your own frustration and failure, and there’s nothing to be gained.
When I read the quotation about Whistler and Hitler to our associate minister, with the author, in effect, throwing up his or her hands, she said this would be my “tontu fise prami” sermon. “Tontu fise prami” being a Portuguese phrase that conveys that sense that there’s nothing I can do about it, I just can’t care, it’s something I can’t solve. You know, “tontu fise prami,” let’s go on to something else.
Because after all, there are only so many things we can take on in a day or in a lifetime. The hours are not infinite, nor are our energies. As Emerson wrote in his poem, “Terminus”:
There’s not enough for this and that,
Make thy option which of two;
…Leave the many and hold the few
Let’s hope we have the sense and luck to leave the many things that offer nothing to be gained, and discern the few things that are worth our doing, best we can, and hold on to them.
Quest January 2004 Contents Nothing to Be Gained Set in Stone Remembering Martin Luther King, Jr. Sequence A note from our Fundraising Committee’s Chair Did You Know Rabbits, Bees and Mango Trees: Dr. Paul Randel Finds a Home in Puerto Rico Check it Out From Your Minister REsources for Living I’m holding my own
from Walking Toward Morning, by Victoria Safford, minister, White Bear UU Church, St. Paul, Minnesota. This 2003 UUA meditation manual is available from the UUA Bookstore and the CLF library.
In a cemetery, once, I found a soothing epitaph. The name of the deceased and dates had been scoured away by wind and rain, but there was a carving of a tree with roots and branches (a classic nineteenth century motif) and among them the words, “She attended well and faithfully to a few worthy things.” At first this seemed to me a little meager, a little stingy on the part of her survivors, but I wrote it down and have thought about it since, and now I can’t imagine a more proud or satisfying legacy
“She attended well and faithfully to a few worthy things.”
Every day I stand in danger of being struck by lightning and having the obituary in the local paper say for all the world to see: “She attended frantically and ineffectually to a great many unimportant, meaningless details.”
How do you want your obituary to read?
“He got all the dishes washed and dried before playing with his children in the evening.”
“She balanced her checkbook with meticulous precision and never missed a day of work—missed a lot of sunsets, missed a lot of love, missed a lot of risk, missed a lot—but her money was in order.”
“She answered all her calls, all her e-mail, all her voicemail, but along the way she forgot to answer the call to service and compassion, and forgiveness, first and foremost of herself.”
“He gave and forgave sparingly, without radical intention, without passion or conviction.”
“She could not, or would not, hear the calling of her heart.”
How will it read, how does it read, and if you had to name a few worthy things to which you attend well and faithfully, what, I wonder, would they be?
An excerpt from a speech given by Dr. King on March 25, 1965 in Montgomery, Alabama.
(We offer this piece in honor of MLK’s birthday. In the interests of preserving the cadence and authenticity of this speech, written nearly 40 years ago, we have kept the original language.—Ed.)
…I know there is a cry today in Alabama, we see it in numerous editorials: “When will Martin Luther King, SCLC, SNCC, and all of these civil rights agitators and all of the white clergymen and labor leaders and students and others get out of our community and let Alabama return to normalcy?”
But I have a message that I would like to leave with Alabama this evening. That is exactly what we don’t want, and we will not allow it to happen, for we know that it was normalcy in Marion that led to the brutal murder of Jimmy Lee Jackson. It was normalcy in Birmingham that led to the murder on Sunday morning of four beautiful, unoffending, innocent girls…. It was normalcy by a cafe in Selma, Alabama, that led to the brutal beating of Reverend James Reeb.
It is normalcy all over our country which leaves the Negro perishing on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. It is normalcy all over Alabama that prevents the Negro from becoming a registered voter. No, we will not allow Alabama to return to normalcy.
The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy that recognizes the dignity and worth of all of God’s children. The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy that allows judgment to run down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy of brotherhood, the normalcy of true peace, the normalcy of justice.
And so as we go away this afternoon, let us go away more than ever before committed to this struggle and committed to nonviolence. I must admit to you that there are still some difficult days ahead…. But if we will go on with the faith that nonviolence and its power can transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows, we will be able to change all of these conditions….
I know you are asking today, “How long will it take?” Somebody’s asking, “How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?” Somebody’s asking, “When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?” Somebody’s asking, “When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?”
I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because “truth crushed to earth will rise again.” How long? Not long, because “no lie can live forever.”
How long? Not long, because “you shall reap what you sow.”
How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.
by Mark Belletini, senior minister, First UU Church of Columbus, Ohio
Masaganang Bagong Taon they say in Tagalog on the streets of Manila, in the Philippines.
Propero Ano they say on the sun-warmed lanes of Rio in Brazil.
Na bloavezh Mat they say at St. Michel in Breton, the ancient tongue still used on the north coast of France.
Full of good wishes! Full of good will.
Dreams of happiness. Visions of peace for all.
Kurisumasu Omedeto they say in Tokyo,
Subha Aluth Awrudhak Vewa they cry out in Columbo, Sri Lanka.
Ojenyuyat osrasay! they murmur in Québec among those who still speak a smattering of Iroquois.
Or maybe they say cheerfully Bon Année!
Or even, if they speak English, Happy New Year!
And we say it too. May our year be happy, not as a gift owed to us, but because we have the courage to live it with honor and honesty. May our year prosper us with surprising joy, not as a blessing but as an opening in our hearts. May each person on the earth know a good year.
No matter the language, the culture, the station, may all human spirits be faithful to their dreams of freedom, their visions of peace, their celebration of honesty and truthfulness.
Blessed is the arrival of the New Year, which is any day when human beings in any language say yes to life, love, freedom, honesty and peace.
I am thinking this morning of the results of CLF’s funding efforts and particularly the phone-a-thon in early October. So how do I tell you how much the support of so many of you is appreciated? Here’s one way:
These words all mean “thank you.” I write them in late summer even before the final results of the canvass are known. But you know how publishing deadlines are, and Jane and I felt we couldn’t wait any longer than January to say something about the superb 2003 canvass to raise funds for the 2004 year. I know it because I believe in trends, and in recent years, the trend of increased support by CLF members has even surprised the Board of Directors.
Oh, of course, there is never enough money to do everything that’s envisioned for what the CLF might do. But we have been making clear strides in sorting out the initiatives that we believe are so very important for the CLF’s future health and continuing a balanced budget.
So in the words used by some CLF members (in France, Finland, Germany, Israel, India, Iceland, Indonesia, Japan, Korea, China, the Navajo Nation, and Russia), I add my own from my native language, “thank you.”
The CLF is on the move because of you. I hope you know it and pat yourself on the back for being a part of this worthwhile effort for expanding our faith throughout the world, especially in those places where we have no organized congregations.
Charles A. Gaines, Chair, Fundraising Committee
...that the CLF’s Planned Giving Brochure is available online? You can remember the CLF in your will or make a planned gift that will benefit this congregation. Go to www.clfuu.org/giving/planned_giving.html or contact Lorraine at the office (617-948-6166 or ) for a brochure.
by Laura Cavicchio, CLF member, ministerial student, Reading, Massachusetts
How did CLFer Dr. Paul Randel end up in Puerto Rico? The answer is surprisingly simple. After receiving his Ph.D. in agriculture and animal husbandry from Louisiana State University, he heard that the University of Puerto Rico was hiring. Loving a tropical climate, he applied and got the job.
Dr. Randel has worked for the University at Mayaguez for almost forty years. Three years ago he was made the administrative director of the agriculture and animal industry department of the University.
His wife, Crimilda, is a native of the area of Lajas. Lajas, where he lives, is located on the southern coast of the island, and offers lots of mango trees, boating and fishing. The farm where he built his home twenty years ago grew pineapples at that time. His current business partner, the son of the original owner, prefers growing plantains, so that is their crop now. Plantains, a type of banana, are a vital part of the local diet.
Dr. Randel is a member of Amnesty International, as he has been since the 1970s when his good friend, Paul Schlacter, started a branch on the island. He still works on “urgent actions,” specific cases of political injustice, imprisonment or torture that AI aims to resolve. In terms of his concerns about globalization and “savage capitalism,” he thinks that Puerto Rico is quite a bit better off than a lot of countries because it is appended to the US economy.
Dr. Randel became acquainted with UUism when he attended a UU church in Baton Rouge during his studies at Louisiana State. Before he left, he was told about the CLF and his name was given to the CLF—he’s been a member ever since. He finds the CLF a great help in his life as he is completely isolated from liberal religion. He likes Quest very much and reads most of the UU World as soon as it arrives.
Out of the Flames: The Remarkable Story of a Fearless Scholar, a Fatal Heresy, and One of the Rarest Books in the World by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone
Out of the Flames tracks the history of a special work of radical theology, examining Servetus's life and times and the politics of the first information revolution during the sixteenth century. Out of the Flames is an extraordinary testament to the power of ideas, the enduring legacy of books, and the triumph of individual courage.
Visit the CLF Lending Library at http://h5.uua.org/clf/Cataloguelist.asp
by Jane Rzpeka, minister, Church of the Larger Fellowship
Have you ever been reading the classifieds when you see an ad, say, for a guitarist looking for a drummer? And then a couple of ads down you see another ad, this time for a drummer looking for a guitarist? And you have the urge to call them both and do a little match-making?
This phenomenon caught the attention of the public radio show “This American Life.” They decided to have some fun creating a band composed of musicians found in the classifieds of one issue of the Chicago Sun-Times. There was only one qualification: no two musicians could ever have played together “under any other imaginable circumstances.”
So it was that seven musicians, complete strangers to one another, gathered in a recording studio to record what would be their one and only song. John, a country punk bandleader, gathered Ben, an indie rocker bassist, followed by an acid funk percussionist named Steve. Also in the classifieds that day were Nathan, an electric violinist with an “anger management problem,” working on a conspiracy theory rock opera, and a smooth, soulful, sultry, female jazz vocalist by the name of Karen. The last two to join the band were an “experienced Christian worship leader” who strummed a guitar, and Eric, a 60-something retired factory worker who, in his ad, promised “to amaze you” with his theremin’s effects.
Sound like any far-flung congregation you know?
In the Church of the Larger Fellowship, the environmentalist in Warsaw joins with the grocery bagger in Cheyenne and the night-owl software developer in Seattle. The incarcerated CLFer is a congregant, as is the teenager from the Bible belt who sneaks onto our Website, and the energetic retirement home resident who leads a small group of UUs for worship once a month.
Some of you delight in your isolation, as did the electric violinist, off alone in a corner of the recording studio. All you really want to do is read Quest when it suits you and support the general cause of liberal religion. Others prefer relationship; you bond as instantly as the rhythm section did in Public Radio’s one-day band, initiating and participating in the CLF’s on-line communities, meeting one another at General Assembly, participating in Unitarian Universalist gatherings when and where you find them. We are a congregation that is geographically diverse—that’s unusual enough—but the fact that we welcome and affirm both those interested and disinterested in congregational “community” makes us wonderfully strange indeed.
What captures my imagination, though, is the theological diversity of our membership. When we conducted our recent survey, predictably, a number of members wrote creative descriptions of their theologies:
earth-centered humanist
agnostic/Christian/nature
deist
spiritual humanist
Christian-Buddhist
theistic humanist
mystic-earth-nature centered
Gnostic
pagan, not earth-centered
Taoist
Heinz 57
naturalistic mystic
humanist-Christian
Christian-Eastern-New Age
religious naturalist
pagan
While most of us identify primarily as straight-up Unitarian Universalists, when asked, CLF members sort themselves most readily into the following theological sub-groups: humanists, earth-centered, atheist/agnostics, theists, Christians, mystics, and Buddhists (in that order numerically). In our congregation, as in most UU congregations, there is room for us all.
During the radio show, the punk bandleader told us there wasn’t enough amazement in his life. He knocked on the door of the theremin player partly because this Eric promised amazement. When Eric began to play “Danny Boy” on his theremin, waving his hand above it, never touching it, thus disturbing the electro-magnetic field and creating a sound like a flying saucer from the Twilight Zone gone Irish, the band leader was truly amazed. But when the band of strangers came together and recorded Elton John’s “Rocket Man,” and it really sounded great, that was the clear winner of the day in the amazement department. “Suddenly,” he said, “they’re a band.”
For us it works the same way. As individual members of the Church of the Larger Fellowship, we are, I like to suppose, amazing. But together, when from wherever we are, we support the cause of liberal religion and all it stands for, when we ground ourselves in our solid religion, when we share Unitarian Universalism with those who need to hear about it, suddenly, we’re a church.
Amazing.
by Helen Zidowecki, acting minister of religious education, Church of the Larger Fellowship
When—and how—do you celebrate New Year’s?
The answer is different for different people around the world and throughout time. The celebration of the new year was first observed in ancient Babylon about 4000 years ago.
The Romans were the first to recognize New Year’s Day on January 1. In 153 BCE, the Romans selected it for civil reasons: it was the day after elections in which the newly elected assumed their positions.
Until the 16th century, in Europe and North America, New Year’s began in the spring, connected with the days of several saints or religious observances, such as Annunciation (March 25 to April 1), or days for Saints Sylvester or Basil. As European countries started adopting January 1 as the beginning of the year, some people refused to make the change and were called “April Fools”—which has led to other traditions!
In Vietnam and China, the date of the New Year celebration changes each year, but comes between mid-January and mid-February.
Other traditions celebrate New Year’s in the fall:
The Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah marks the beginning of the agricultural autumn season and a new beginning or New Year.
In ancient Egypt, New Year’s was celebrated when the Nile River flooded, which was near the end of September. Without the flooding of the Nile, people would not have been able to grow crops in the dry desert.
Celts, who lived in what is now called France and parts of Britain before the Romans arrived had Samhain, meaning “summer’s end,” which is the basis for Halloween.
The Muslim calendar is based on the movements of the moon, so the date of New Year’s is eleven days earlier each year.
Regardless of when New Year’s is celebrated, it is recognized as a day in which rites are performed to let go of the past so there can be a rejuvenation for the new year. Ancient rituals included purifications, extinguishing and rekindling fires, masked processions with masks representing the dead, and other similar activities, often with much noise to scare away evil spirits. And there are many superstitions around that will bring good and bad luck in the year to come.
New Year’s Resolutions are a way to let go of the past in exchange for intentions for the future. It is where the phrase “turning over a new leaf” originated. Jews, for instance, use the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as a time of penance and forgiveness.
In considering New Year’s as January 1, we meet the Roman God Janus, for whom the month of January is named. Depicted as having two faces, he looks back over the last year and forward to the coming year. We can follow his example! There are various ways that we can recognize the good things and challenges of the past year. These can include:
When we turn to the new year, the Unitarian Universalist principles can be a guide as to how to live. There are various children’s versions of the principles, and this one is designed for younger children. These principles are promises that we can make as part of the Unitarian Universalist congregation of the Church of the Larger Fellowship. I suggest that you have a piece of paper with each principle written on it. Then think about what you can do for each one. Put the paper with your ideas where you can see it often.
We live in a way that recognizes that:
Everyone is important. We are fair and kind to others. Church, including the CLF, is a place where we learn together. We are always learning for ourselves. We have a say about things that are important to us (but may not have the final say!). We help to make the world a better place for everyone. We help to take care of our world.
Everyone is important.
We are fair and kind to others.
Church, including the CLF, is a place where we learn together.
We are always learning for ourselves.
We have a say about things that are important to us (but may not have the final say!).
We help to make the world a better place for everyone.
We help to take care of our world.
I would like to hear how you are going to work on these principles. I am creating my own ideas. Write to me at and let me know what you’ve come up with.
But you don’t have to wait for an official New Year’s celebration to think about letting go of the past and starting over. Your birthday is Your New Year, and each day is a time for starting over! So, Happy New Year—throughout the year!
“I’m holding my own,” said more than one pioneer. “I didn’t have anything when I landed here and I ain’t got anything now but I got some hope left. I ain’t lost hope yet. I’m a wanter and a hoper.”
“I’m holding my own,”
said more than one pioneer.
“I didn’t have anything
when I landed here
and I ain’t got anything now
but I got some hope left.
I ain’t lost hope yet.
I’m a wanter and a hoper.”
By Carl Sandburg
Excerpt from selection 39 in THE PEOPLE, YES by Carl Sandburg, reprinted in Natural Selections: Sacred Poems Chosen and Read, by UU minister the Rev. Frank Hall, book and CD available from the CLF library.
Original copyright 1936 by Harcourt, Inc. and renewed 1964 by Carl Sandburg, reprinted by permission of the publisher. The material may not be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Quest January 2004 Contents The Camels Speak Stargazers, Pilgrims and Epiphanies Epiphanies Member Profile: Joan Steffens Sign up for CLF-Announce Prison Pen Pals Needed We are delighted to announce REsources for Living A Season Called Advent Did You Know
Last updated June 12, 2005
Church of the Larger Fellowship (CLF), 25 Beacon Street, Boston, MA 02108-2823 Phone: (617) 948-6166 · Fax: (617) 523-4123 · E-mail: clf@clfuu.org
