Thanksgiving 2010

The Universalist Parsonage

November, 2010

Dear Friends—

When we think of all we have been given,
simple men and women that we are--
the laughter of friends;
good work to do; and more than our
small share of nature’s bounty--
we ought to bow our heads in glad thanksgiving,
fall on our knees in deep appreciation,
or, at the very least, utter a simple, soft
word of gratitude
to the Hand of Life that has blest us
so sustainingly all these years.

How truly blest we all have been
to drink from this holy chalice, this Cup of Life.
The bread we eat was once a living spirit,

sacrificed to nourish us;
our communion, then, is a sharing of life with life.

So may we pause in gratitude this season
to speak clearly our word of thanksgiving
for these simple gifts of life which are all ours,
not to hoard, but to share;
till all the world is fed,

both on bread,
and on love and hope and justice.

 Elizabeth joins me in wishing each of you a happy Thanksgiving, and a blessed holiday season.  

Faithfully,

Rev. Jeffrey Symynkywicz

Puddles of Creativity (Sunday, November 13, 2011)

Puddles of creativity

This little puddle of creativity
which each of us is
is small, but deep and real,
for it is connected by underground springs
to the great ocean of life; to be a single drop in that ocean,
let alone an entire puddle,
is enough to transform the very landscape of this world of ours.  

For that puddle is deeper
than we can even imagine; it is a lake, really.
It is fed and watered by an ageless stream of human tears;
it is deepened yet by the rains of nature's seasons.
These wellsprings are eternal
and flow in endless supply;
these springs will flow forever;
these reservoirs never run dry.

The dryness that may come from time to time
is but a brief and transient state,
caused by human ego trying to control the flow;
replacing the Way of the Spirit
with our own little puny reasons and ways and wherefores.

And when these pass, as pass they must, and will,
it can be like a cloudburst in the desert,
moistening the dust
and turning it into potter's clay,
till at last that puddle overflows
and becomes a mighty ocean all God's own.

jbs
3/19/99           3/12/00          11/13/11

The dance of joy and pain (Sunday, November 6, 2011)

The dance of joy and pain

Joy and pain lie close within our hearts,
cradled in the arms of everlasting life.
Where we see darkness,
God’s light shines just beyond,
immutable, unchanging, as
the holy darkness of creation is impenetrable
to garish human daylight.

We are a unity of forces complementary
and completing, a sacred consummation
of light and dark. We call them opposites,
but life knows that they do
not oppose, but realize;
and each holds the germ of the other
within its living essence.

So, if we have a choice, we usually choose
the sugar-coated pill of happy, easy times;
but our deeper nature knows
we ought not run from the pain
(though only a fool steers directly into it).

Let us cling to the precipice of our love
emboldened brothers and sisters of all the world,
divine children both of dark and light,
both of joy and of pain.

jbs
5/29/03          1/30/05          11/6/11

"We are so much greater than we know' (Sunday, October 30, 2011)

We are so much greater than we know

We are so much greater than we know,
we oftentimes small and paltry beings,
men and women who walk
but few years upon this earth.

For there is shining within our souls
an illimitable light, a great force,
a speck of the fire born at the Creation,
which magnifies our beings and makes them whole.

Even in our smallness, our greatness sings.
Our brokenness itself speaks of wholeness,
and often, our pain speaks of joy.
In us, all powers of Life become one.

                                                                                    

The Spirit rises within us, and all at once,

the dark is cast away in its glow;
the holy darkness descends over surly day
and brings to birth deeper manifestations of our being.

We are so small, and yet
there beat within us hearts as strong
as that thundering fire that shook the heavens
and brought this world to birth.

We are so small, and yet
we are so much greater than we know.

jbs
1/30/01           12/2/01          10/30/11

"At the Rue du Bac", Sunday, October 30, 2011 (Call to Worship)

The beauty is just beneath the surface;
the place of peace just off the main street.
And it takes just an inkling—
a moment spent in prayer;
the splendor of a work of art;
the glory of a life well-lived—
to remind us that they’re there.

Imagine what we could do—
Who we could be—
If we let that living fire of Love--
of Charity—engulf us endlessly.

Half asleep, yet we are already
half way to God; imagine if we awoke
and understood within ourselves
the Joy—the full, heart-pounding Joy—
of being alive! Imagine what
blessed apparitions we could then see.
Imagine the sacred miracles we could then be.

jbs
Rue du Bac, Paris
8/4/04

We are mighty rivers (Sunday, October 23, 2011)

The important thing for rivers—
those in the world, and those within our souls—
is to keep on flowing.
We must not dam the torrents of anger we feel
in the face of the iniquities of this world.
We must not dam—or allow others to dam—
the flowing currents of our own creativity and wisdom.
That place where our own rivers meet
the great sea of life may be downstream yet—
perhaps more miles downstream than we really
want to think about—but that great sea whose name is Compassion
is there. And it is waiting for each of us to arrive.

We are not worthless creatures, bound to sin.
We are not but numbers in a ledger,
defined by our consumption; hypnotized into inaction
by the baubles and trappings of an age that is dying.
We are mighty rivers, each one of us.
We are flowing rivers—steadily, surely, cutting our own channel
through this oftentimes hard earth of selfishness and greed,
prejudice and fear.
We are rivers, flowing, refreshing again
the parched, dry ground of our times.
We are mighty rivers of constantly transforming,
living, breathing waters.
And we have come a long way from our Source;
and we still have far to go before we reach our sea.

jbs
6/9/91          5/29/05          10/23/11

The Joy of Waking (Sunday, October 16, 2011)

The Joy of Waking

Sometimes I yearn for sleep and rest,
times alone on some deserted shore;
 when all the actions fade, all chores are done,
are done, all responsibilities handed on
for others to take care of.

But I know that time will come at last,
when there will be unending sleep,
rest eternal, and nothing but time
to contemplate in wonder
all that I have done and been and loved.

So for now, the yearning must give way
for greater joys of rising to greet the day;
of seizing time and making it my own,
binding all the ties of love and work and home
into one coherent masterwork eyes can see.

And if there’s never time enough to do it all,
 I have lived; I have been part
of this holy, earthly symphony
whose tune is Life, whose joy is now,
whose greatest call is not to stop ‘til day is done.

jbs

9/6/00          1/24/10          10/16/11