April 2008

Quest Archives

Contents

• A TEMPLE OF THE HEART PATRICK T. O’NEILL
• GIFTS FROM THE CLF
  
• THE SHELTER OF A TREE JANE R. RZEPKA
• GA DELEGATE REFLECTIONS CLF & CYF MEMBERS
• A KENYAN CLFER DAN KANE
• RESOURCES FOR LIVING LYNN UNGAR
• PASSOVER LYNN UNGAR
  

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Did You Know...
...that the CLF website has a page just for kids (and parents and people who work with kids)? Go to Kidtalk for history, activities and more.

A TEMPLE OF THE HEART

A HOMILY GIVEN AT THE CLF ANNUAL WORSHIP SERVICE AT GENERAL ASSEMBLY, PORTLAND, OREGON, 2007, BY PATRICK T. O’NEILL, SENIOR MINISTER, FIRST UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL SOCIETY IN BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

For many Unitarian Universalists, attending General Assembly (GA) is the highlight of the year. Annually, GA gathers delegates from across the US and attendees from around the world to participate in workshops, worship services, and plenary sessions for the entire group of thousands, in which reports on the state of various aspects of our association are given. These plenary sessions also feature the opportunity for delegates to discuss and debate Study/Action Issues, in which UU congregations take on learning about and addressing significant social issues, and Actions of Immediate Witness, in which the delegate body takes a stand on social issues brought to the floor by delegates to that particular GA. This past GA also featured an experimental process, called Open Space Technology, designed to give all GA attendees the opportunity to share whatever concerns were on their minds about our communal life as Unitarian Universalists.

This month, in hopes that you’ll feel inspired to attend GA this June in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, we’d like to share with you the sermons from our CLF worship service and some reflections from CLF and CYF delegates on their experiences at this past GA. You can find out more about GA 2008 at UUA.org. If you’ll be attending, please contact Lorraine about the possibility of being a delegate for the CLF.

It really is a pretty cool idea when you think about it, CLF. A church without walls. A congregation  unbounded by geography. Imagine, a church with no Building and Grounds Committee! Why, it’s a minister’s dream! Of course, the bad news is we don’t have any rental income to help balance the annual budget.

On the other hand, we don’t have any leaky roof to replace either.

Cool idea. This notion that a congregation can still be truly that: a “convoked people,” bonded and related one to another, even from afar, by a shared commitment to keep alive the common love for the Good, the True, and the Beautiful as expressed in our Unitarian Universalist heritage. This radical notion that wherever we might live, wherever we might go, we carry this congregation with us in our hearts, by how we choose to live in the world, by the values we choose to represent and be guided by.

Theologically and historically, we know the idea has significant precedent—several thousand years’ worth, actually. In Jewish history, Talmudic legend tells the story of how the great temple site in Jerusalem was established.

“Time before time,” the story goes, “when the world was young, two brothers shared a field and a mill, each night dividing evenly the grain they had ground together. One brother lived alone, the other had a large family. Now the single brother thought to himself one day, ‘It isn’t really fair that we divide the grain evenly. I have only myself to care for, but my brother has children to feed.’ So each night he secretly took some of his grain to his brother’s granary.

But the married brother said to himself one day, ‘It isn’t really fair that we divide the grain evenly—because I have children to provide for me in my old age, and my brother has none.’ So, he began every night to take some of his grain to his brother’s granary.

Then one night they met each other half way between their two houses. Suddenly they realized what had been happening, and they embraced each other in love. The legend has it that God witnessed their meeting and proclaimed, ‘This is a holy place, and here it is that my Temple shall be built.’ And so it came to be that the first Temple was constructed in Jerusalem. For God is known where human beings meet each other, and discover each other, in love.”

The implication of the legend is clear, no matter the theology: love is the only sure foundation upon which any temple worthy of the name must be built. No other foundation is strong enough to support a house of faith.

The great temple of Solomon in Jerusalem was the literal center of faith and culture for the flowering of the Jewish people. It contained in its Holy of Holies the Ark of the Covenant, the central symbol of Yahweh’s covenant with his chosen people. That physical temple was the indispensable center of ancient Judaism.

We moderns, living at a distance of four millennia, can only imagine what it must have meant for the Jewish people when the great temple of Solomon was destroyed by the Chaldean army, and the Jews were led off into their years of bitter captivity in Babylon.

Up until that devastating experience, the Jewish religion was predicated upon the physical dependence of having the great Temple as its literal high altar. With the destruction of their temple, Judaism itself would have perished as a religion except for one great religious insight which the Jews never forgot from that experience. They learned how to carry their great temple with them in their hearts.

By learning to do so, the Jewish faith survived the Babylonian Captivity. It survived to rebuild the physical temple in Jerusalem. And when that temple was also destroyed centuries later by the Roman army, the Jewish faith once again survived in the hearts of its people. And it survived the Great Diaspora of another two thousand years beyond that. It survived centuries of persecution, even genocide, and every manner of destruction visited upon its people, because, you see, the Temple carried in the heart—faith constructed on the sure foundation of love—is not subject to captivity or destruction, not by all the armies on earth.

CLFers, it occurs to me, have shared this same intuitive appreciation of the Temple of the Heart from its founding, and this is your secret. If Unitarian Universalists in general are the “loose constructionists” of organized religion, then the Church of the Larger Fellowship congregation surely must be our “loosest.” You folks don’t even own a clubhouse! You’re spread out from Pennsauken to Pago Pago. You were a “virtual” congregation before the word was even invented. And you’ve done it beautifully now for many years. Through your publications, your on-line connections, your ministers and religious educators, your annual support, your generosity, and your vision of outreach, you have personally and individually carried this little light of Unitarian Universalism into the farthest isolated corners of our country, our culture, and the whole wide world.

This is not to say that your unusual way of congregating once a year at the moveable feast of General Assembly is without challenge. Those of us fortunate enough to live near and regularly attend a local UU congregation can easily remind newcomers, as I do every week, that “if you’ve been attending here for a while and find yourself spiritually at home in this place, you’re invited to make your membership here official.” Well, let me extend that same invitation of welcome to all of you here and to your friends and family scattered to the four winds, who may not hear such an invite very often.

If you’ve been on the CLF mailing list for some time now, if you are a regular visitor to the CLF website, if you look forward to reading Quest each month with its guest sermons, its essays on UU philosophy, Jane Rzepka’s little gems of columns, or Lynn Ungar’s R.E. lessons—if you find yourself spiritually and intellectually “at home” here in these Unitarian Universalist ideas, at home here in this expansive faith, at home here with these comrades and fellow pilgrims—if you feel your heart is “at home” here in these Purposes and Principles—if you never imagined you would ever find anywhere a congregation to match that Temple you’ve always carried in your heart—well, welcome home! You remember what Robert Frost said of home—that it is that place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. Welcome home to the Church of the Larger Fellowship!

What a cool idea! Way to go CLF! Shine on, you make us all proud to be UUs at heart!

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GIFTS FROM THE CLF

Do you belong to a bricks-and-mortar congregation? Are you looking for that special gift for volunteers? The Coming of Age group? Mother’s Day? Graduation? Father’s Day? Bridging ceremony for graduating seniors? The CLF offers chalice jewelry for all genders and ages, as well as colorful UU-themed note cards for all occasions.

Visit the CLF Shop to view and purchase a variety of gifts. Proceeds go to support the CLF’s work to bring Unitarian Universalism to isolated religious liberals around the world.

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THE SHELTER OF A TREE

A HOMILY GIVEN AT THE CLF ANNUAL WORSHIP SERVICE AT GENERAL ASSEMBLY, PORTLAND, OREGON, 2007, BY JANE RZEPKA, SENIOR MINISTER, CHURCH OF THE LARGER FELLOWSHIP

“I’ll shake these bones and shout and sing my life away.” Sounds pretty good when you sing it the way we just heard it. And well, I guess that would be one way to play it—shake these bones and shout and sing all the live-long day. Though that kind of sounds all footloose and happy and appealing, and while in general I would like to move in the more bone-shaking-shouting-footloose direction, I have to tell you the truth. I’m drawn to a different couple of lines in the song. These lines: “I’m hearing songs and melodies but when they’re out of mind,/ I’ll hear the sweetest peace of all left behind.”

The sweetest peace. When we find a lull in the action, when the songs and melodies of life grow faint and finally quiet, how satisfying it is to know the sweetest peace. That’s in large part what religion is supposed to do for us, what spirituality is for. That’s what stays with us wherever we are, wherever we go, in the temple of the heart that Patrick was just talking about. The sweetest peace.

The sweetest peace? We’re in a convention center! We’re at General Assembly! We’ve all been shaking our bones, one way or another, all the live-long day for days. Not that peaceful. Quick! Get from the Portland Ballroom to OCC Room C123-124—good you’re here and sure, you can chow down some lunch and get to the plenary (there’s still one left) by 1:30 if this thing doesn’t run too long, but can you get to Powell’s and pick up your banner and make it to the CLF booth to see if we’ve marked down the jewelry?! Not really that peaceful. Not that spiritual. GA is not always so conducive to being in touch with that calm and loving place called the temple of the heart. And yet, and yet, what do we say at the CLF? We say “The Church of the Larger Fellowship—your church at home, wherever you are.”

As you’ve probably noticed, there is an old growth Douglas Fir lying oddly in front of the Convention Center—an 80 foot long, $65,000 Douglas Fir, with Western Cedar, Hemlock, and little Douglas Firs growing in it. An occasion for pause. A keeled over tree amidst the concrete and steel of a convention center, is not business as usual where I live, and probably not where you live either.

Of course, the meaning of an art installation is in the eye of the beholder, and Buster Simpson’s “Douglas Fir” is no exception. But we know that it intends to take us not to the light rail or the food court or the plenary hall, but to a place of the spirit. In the responsive reading, quoting Wendell Berry from his book A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems, we said, “I go among trees and sit still.”...“My tasks lie in their places/ where I left them, asleep like cattle.” “All my stirring becomes quiet/around me like circles on water.” Standing in front of this public monument in a major city, we are not at all among trees, but we have been offered an invitation to be among them anyway, reminding us that wherever we are, we can access the religion, the peace, the Temple of the Heart that we ourselves have brought along. We can return again to the home of our soul, concrete and traffic lights notwithstanding.

Of course here in Portland, the tree connection comes easily. The local tourism folks are quick to highlight the nearby Forest Park, “dense and untouched forest land, the largest wooded city park in the United States.” It has been touched of course—for thousands of years the native people here in the Willamette Valley burned the valley floor at the end of every summer, eliminating what they saw as the threat of the forest, so they could grow their food.

But by the time the Unitarian minister Thomas Lamb Eliot arrived in 1867, the land was forested and the city of Portland was booming. Eliot didn’t like the looks of Portland—it was callous, he thought, commercial, no moral center. The answer, he believed, was to incorporate the wild beauty and grandeur of the nearby forest into the city itself. He thought that the health, morality, and intelligence of the people of Portland depended on the existence of the forest. His was not really a persuasive case, but in the end, our Rev. Eliot’s doggedness resulted in Forest Park. It is as we heard in the anthem: “Slowly, slowly they return/ To the small woodland let alone:/ Great trees, outspreading and bright,/ Apostles of the living light.” [Wendell Berry, Great Trees]

Nature is not an important spiritual touchstone in every religion, but it was for the Rev. Thomas Lamb Eliot here in Portland, and it is for most Unitarian Universalists, wherever we find ourselves. Which brings us back to this CLFish question about how to carry our religion along with us when the temple is a distant memory and the Douglas Fir too big to carry along even in an out-sized suitcase. Once we disembarked here in Portland, or deplaned, or stiffly stumbled out of the driver’s seat, how did we return to our best and most grounded selves? We may have a geographical spiritual home, but for the moment, we aren’t there. We’re in Portland.

I remembered that the Rev. Patrick O’Neill here once told a story from the anthropologist Loren Eiseley’s book, Night Country, so I looked it up. It seems that once upon a time, a little boy—Loren Eiseley himself—with a toy shovel and bucket in hand, lovingly planted a cottonwood sapling with his dad. It was a classic scene: a small town in Nebraska, a house with a white picket fence, and there in the yard, a father and son, digging a hole together, a hole for a tree that would offer them shelter long into the future. As it happened, their time in that house was short-lived, but the memory of this tree was one that Eiseley went back to again and again, one of those deep and nurturing memories that, over the course of his life, gave him a pocket of spiritual strength and peace whenever he needed it.

When Eiseley was nearing the end of his life, he felt he needed to revisit that tree. So he traveled the two thousand miles to the familiar address where the house and the picket fence still stood. And there, there, in exactly the spot where they had planted the cottonwood all those years ago, stood…nothing at all. Nothing. As it turned out, the tree had never taken root. For sixty years, Eiseley had known the shelter of a nonexistent tree. For sixty years, Eiseley had known how to return to the home of his soul using only the spirituality he carried with him.

That’s our job too. Call it a Temple of the Heart. Call it the shelter of an imaginary tree. But know this: when the Temple is destroyed and you are wandering, when the tree you staked your life on never took root, when you’ve been living out of a suitcase for days at a time, the abundance of our religion is always at hand. The abundance of our religion! The sweetest peace. Always with us. Your church at home, wherever you are.

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CLF DELEGATES SHARE THEIR IMPRESSIONS OF GA 2007

We ask our GA delegates to report back to us on their experience. Here is a sampling of what they wrote. You can read their full reports here.

This GA was attended by 5697 people, the second largest number in history. UUs came from 643 congregations, plus representatives came from Hungary, Canada, Transylvania, South Africa and Japan. More than 300 were youth. Delegates numbered 2429. Coming from a local UU group of 20, I basked in the light of so many UUs in one place.

I heard three main themes at the General Assembly (GA), pluralism, growth and social responsibility.
Several congregations that experienced extraordinary growth were featured. One of them was the First Unitarian Church of Portland, Oregon. Their members emphasized the spirituality of the congregation. “Being spiritual does not mean being blissed-out,” they said. “It means being engaged spiritually, working for justice.”
—Bobbie, CLF member, Hawaii

Wearing my nametag that said “Church of the Larger Fellowship” throughout all the days of GA turned out to be a great conversation starter. A lot of people saw my purple “Planning Committee Uniform” shirt and wanted to tell me something they liked or didn’t like about this GA. Then they all glanced at my nametag to see where I was from. It was interesting to watch them process “Church of the Larger Fellowship” as a congregation. Either they knew all about the Church of the Larger Fellowship (CLF) and the Church of the Younger Fellowship (CYF) or they didn’t, in which case I was able to tell them something about my cyber congregation.
—Lynda, CLF board member, Connecticut

This was my first General Assembly and I was honored with the opportunity to serve as a delegate for CYF. I really enjoyed participating in plenary and attending a lot of workshops.

Plenary was a busy time. There were all sorts of business items but the one thing I was most involved with was the Open Space Technology time. I was able to attend a few Open Space Technology meetings and was glad to see at least one (of the top thirty) statements include supporting young adult (and youth) activities. It was exciting to stand at the microphone and speak to support the statement. I look forward to seeing how the vote went.

The Bridging Ceremony was really exciting to see and participate in. Not only was it great to see CYF receive the Donna DiSciullo Award but to see all the new young adults cross the stage.
—Leanne, CYF member, Washington

Reading the other delegates’ reports reinforces my impression that the CLF is a “sleeping giant” within the UUA.

I would like us to create greater visibility for the CLF. I speak to fellowships in five states and the CLF is unknown out there.
—William, CLF member, Minnesota

I would like to suggest that we, as a congregation, arrange more regular meeting times. As a CLF member without benefit of a local congregation, I would really like to get to know some of our members better. It will help me so much when I'm in such an isolated situation to feel more connected. I love e-mail, but it's not the same as the breath of a real, live person!
—Gillian, CLF member, North Victoria, Australia

This was a very different GA for me because I was a volunteer facilitator for the Open Space Technology experiment. I applaud the UUA Board for this grand experiment in gathering input from the rank and file members, a process so critical to the role of the board under policy governance.

It was so gratifying to go from room to room and see groups of people, heads together, working in community. About 1000 participated in the topic-setting session Thursday morning, generating almost 300 potential sessions. That was narrowed by random selection to 107 scheduled sessions. Approximately 800 people attended those sessions; 102 goals and strategy statements were reported.

Given the competition for attention of GAers, I think this was remarkable.
—Lois, CLF board member, Missouri

The booths in the Exhibition Room lured me as never before, showing us all what everyone was into...even free love, if you can believe that in this HIV age! Volunteering at the CLF booth and talking to folks was a joy, particularly when a woman came up looking for help in drawing her son to the denomination. Some passersby seemed hesitant to come to our table, suspecting we were trying to sell them something I guess, so I emphasized free inspection and handouts. Our red sign was outstanding, actually and figuratively!
—Nicki, CLF member, Arizona

This was the first time I've been to a UUA General Assembly, so I didn't know what to expect. My own first impression, on looking through the GA program booklet, was something along the lines of “WHAT? How am I ever going to do all *this*?” overwhelm-ment (hoping that's actually a word). Overall, a very interesting, enlightening experience, which I'm glad I experienced.
—Hank, CLF member, Virginia

I was personally involved in developing and presenting an Action of Immediate Witness to be discussed at plenary encouraging members of Unitarian Universalist congregations in the United States to urge their congress people to support both the REAL and PATHWAY Acts. These acts deal with comprehensive sexuality education guidelines within the United States and funding for comprehensive HIV prevention education abroad, respectively.
More information about the Actions of Immediate Witness can be found here.
—Robin, CLF member, California

Open Space was like an unstructured blessing, not unlike the idea of one-shot workshops at our Continental Unitarian Universalist Young Adult Network (CUUYAN) conferences. With guidelines and principles such as “Whoever comes, is the right group of people,” “Whenever it starts, it is the right time,” and “Whatever happens, is the only thing that could have happened,” the foundation of this programming seems very young at heart. I noticed that many people had a difficult time with this, not knowing how things would turn out…but I personally felt inspired, engaged and excited at the prospect of brainstorming a plethora of topics at my discretion, on my time, giving as I was able.
—Sabrina, CYF member, Oregon

One woman at church told me before I went to GA that I would just enjoy being in the majority for a change. Her husband commented after I got back that sometimes it is just nice to be with your tribe. That is GA in a nutshell. I think CLF members who are isolated should all make the effort to get to GA. It is lovely not to be so alone for awhile.
—Elizabeth, CLF member, Colorado

I was impressed by the careful attention to theme and consistency this year, each worship service seeming to lead to the next. I was also taken by the Rev. Dawn Cooley's sermon on Saturday morning, with the message: “We want to grow because the world would be a better place if there were more Unitarian Universalists in it.” Yes. Exactly. Halleluiah.
—Ann, CLF member, Wisconsin

Well, this was my 26th GA, starting with 1978. With age the things that most matter to me are the personal connections, the ritual of the Service of the Living Tradition, the unpredictable conversations, and the vastly improved and effective display areas.

Speaking of which, the CLF had a great location his year, and our volunteer time staffing the booth was fun. We noticed that we ended up being asked where things were as people got their bearings.
—Fred, CLF board member, Michigan

The CLF worship service on Sunday morning was great and so well-attended that we had to turn away many people from the door. Some GA attendees estimated that up to 200 more people wanted to attend, but couldn't get in the room. We’ll be giving that feedback to the GA folks. You can take a look at streaming video of the CLF Worship and the Bridging Ceremony here. The text of the service is there to read along with a few photos.
—Lorraine Dennis, CLF executive director, Massachusetts

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A KENYAN CLFer

BY DAN KANE, CLF MINISTERIAL INTERN

Samuel (not his actual name) lives in what he describes as one of Nairobi’s “sprawling slums.” He is married and the father of a large and growing family. He first learned of the CLF through reading past issues of Quest, which he encountered in a stack of old magazines that had been thrown away in a local market. Although he identifies as a very traditional Christian, he enjoys and learns from the theologies and world views of Unitarian Universalism.

Samuel began corresponding with the Rev. Jane Rzepka shortly after reading her column in that first issue of Quest that he found. Even with the obvious differences in theology and belief, Samuel has found his relationship with Jane and other members of CLF staff to be inspiring, especially as he faces the many difficulties and challenges that exist for those who reside in Nairobi’s slums.

As Kenya’s presidential election approached on December 27, 2007, Samuel wrote to me requesting our thoughts and prayers for what he hoped would be the dawning of a new political day in Kenya. He wrote, “I am optimistic that good leadership next year will afford me a chance to better my life.”

As we have all so sadly witnessed over the last few months, that wish was not to be—at least not yet. In mid-January Samuel wrote, “Hell broke loose the moment election results were announced.… Horrifying scenes have been unfolding each day—for the first time in my life I witnessed human beings beheaded.”
Even in the face of all the horror, he holds out hope for a better future for the residents of Nairobi’s slums, and for all of us. He declares that he continues to hold fast to his faith and his firm conviction that God “is the provider of peace.”

Please keep Samuel, his family and all the people of Kenya in your thoughts and prayers as they face this difficult and tumultuous time.

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REsources for Living

BY LYNN UNGAR, MINISTER FOR LIFESPAN LEARNING, CHURCH OF THE  LARGER FELLOWSHIP

There’s a lot to like about the Jewish holiday of Passover. It has everything a holiday could want—food, family, ritual, story, singing, even a treasure hunt with a prize. What more could a person want? Well, there’s one more piece that, as a Unitarian Universalist, I really appreciate. The celebration of Passover requires asking questions. Kids are encouraged to ask questions about the story and the ritual and why things are the way they are. In fact, there’s a part of the Seder (the ritual dinner) in which the youngest child is expected to ask particular questions. The youngest asks: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” and then goes on to ask four questions about things that are done during the Passover Seder.

“Why is it that on all other nights during the year we eat either bread or matzah, but on this night we eat only matzah?”

“Why is it that on all other nights we eat all kinds of herbs, but on this night we eat only bitter herbs?”

“Why is it that on all other nights we do not dip our herbs even once, but on this night we dip them twice?” and

“Why is it that on all other nights we eat either sitting or reclining, but on this night we eat in a reclining position (leaning over on a pillow)?”

The answer for each question describes events in the Passover story and the symbolic meaning of each of these events in relation to the Passover holiday. The first two questions and their answers both symbolize and remind us of the sufferings of slavery, and the second two questions and their answers both symbolize and remind us of the glory of freedom.

What are the answers to each of the four questions?

Here they are:

Answer to the first question: We eat only matzah because our ancestors could not wait for their bread to rise when they were fleeing slavery in Egypt, and so they took the bread out of their ovens while it was still flat, creating matzah, a flat, crunchy kind of cracker.

Answer to the second question: We eat only bitter herbs (usually horse radish), to remind us of the bitterness of slavery that our ancestors endured while in Egypt.

Answer to the third question: We dip twice: (1) green vegetables in salt water, and (2) bitter herbs in charoses, a sweet mixture of nuts and wine. The first dip, green vegetables in salt water, symbolizes the replacing of tears with gratefulness, and the second dip, bitter herbs in charoses, symbolizes sweetening the bitterness and suffering to lessen its pain.

Answer to the fourth question: We recline at the Seder table because in ancient times a person who reclined at a meal was a person free from slavery, and so we recline in our chairs at the Passover Seder table to remind ourselves of the glory of freedom.

The questions, and their answers, summarize the most important parts of the story of how the Hebrew people were slaves in Egypt, and how they escaped from slavery to become free people—the beginning of the Jews as a particular religious group.

The questions remind kids of some important parts of why the Passover Seder is the way it is, but more than that, they remind everyone gathered around the table that questions are an important part of religious understanding. Kids need to ask questions in order to learn about their religious heritage. But adults need to ask questions too, to understand their religious practices in new and deeper ways.

The ancient writings of the Hebrew Bible, what some people call the Old Testament, are at the center of the Jewish religion. But as important is a set of writings called the Talmud. These are more recent (though still old) writings that summarize the debates and discussions and wisdom of great Rabbis—Jewish religious leaders. So the commentary on the sacred books—all the questions and answers and different answers and debates over the different answers to the different answers—are a part of the sacred books, too. The Jewish religion, like Unitarian Universalism, expects that people will look at their history, at the words of the great teachers, and learn from them. And, like UUism, Judaism expects people to keep asking and answering and debating and trying to understand religious teachings from the past on a deeper and more personal level. So that love of questions is built into the Passover Seder, along with the blessings in Hebrew and the matzah ball soup (which isn’t really a required part of the ritual like the questions, but you wouldn’t want to miss it, at least not the way my father makes it). Like I said—it’s everything in a holiday you might want.

Note: Most of the rest of this issue of Quest is about the Unitarian Universalist General Assembly (GA). Kids who want to learn more about GA and the resolutions process which is such an important part if it can have a look at the January 08 issue of KidTalk.

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PASSOVER

"Then you shall take some of the blood, and put it on the door posts and the lintel of the houses...and when I see the blood, I shall pass over you, and no plague shall fall upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt."  —Exodus 12:7, 13

They thought they were safe
that spring night, when they daubed
the doorways with sacrificial blood.
To be sure, the angel of death
passed them over, but for what?
Forty years in the desert
without a home, without a bed,
following new laws to an unknown land.
Easier to have died in Egypt
or stayed there a slave, pretending
there was safety in the old familiar.

But the promise, from those first
naked days outside the garden,
is that there is no safety,
only the terrible blessing
of the journey. You were born
through a doorway marked in blood.
We are, all of us, passed over,
brushed in the night by terrible wings.

Ask that fierce presence,
whose imagination you hold.
God did not promise that we shall live,
but that we might, at last, glimpse the stars,
brilliant in the desert sky.

by Lynn Ungar, CLF minister for lifespan learning, published by Skinner House in 2002 in What We Share: Collected Meditations Vol. 2. Available from the UUA bookstore (800-215-9076) or from the CLF library (617-948-6150).

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