Crossing Over

This is the text of the reflections I offered on Sunday, June 2, 2019 at the congregation I serve in Charlottesville, Virginia.  This was the Sunday of our annual Bridging Ceremony, the uniquely Unitarian Universalist rite of passage from "youth" to "young adult."  It might be worth noting that these words were illustrated by project images.  (I've put the images at the end of the post, and noted throughout where they came.)

Prior to the reflection we watched a clip from an episode of the BBC Documentary "Human Planet," about the "Living Bridges of Meghalaya."  It's awesome.

There aren’t too many rituals that we Unitarian Universalists all share.  The vast majority of congregations light achalice at the beginning of their worship services, covenant groups, and some meetings, but not all congregations do.  And many UU communities celebrate an annual Flower Communion, yet I don’t think it’s even most.

Back in 1967 the Rev. Peter Raible took songs from the hymnal that was then in use, Hymns for the Celebration of Life, and, as he described it, “freely translated” them, creating Hymns for the Cerebration of Strife.  One of the more popular, sung to the tune of “Holy, Holy, Holy” was, “Coffee, Coffee, Coffee:”

Coffee, Coffee, Coffee,
Praise the strength of coffee.
Early in the morn we rise with thoughts of only thee.
Served fresh or reheated,
Dark by thee defeated,
Brewed black by perk or drip or instantly.

Though all else we scoff we
Come to church for coffee;
If we're late to congregate, we come in time for thee.
Coffee our one ritual,
Drinking it habitual,
Brewed black by perk or drip instantly.

Coffee the communion
Of our Uni-Union,
Symbol of our sacred ground, our one necessity.
Feel the holy power
At our coffee hour,
Brewed black by perk or drip or instantly.

So there’s that – the Coffee Hour.  Yet not even all of us drink coffee.

No, the one ritual that I believe is celebrated in every Unitarian Universalist congregation is what we’re about to do here today.  As far as I know every Unitarian Universalist congregation marks the transition of its young people from being youth to being young adults.  We don’t have a first Communion.  We don’t have Confirmation.  We don’t have Bar and Bat Mitzvahs.  We don’t send our children out into the woods to come back adults.  Instead, we have the Ceremony of Bridging.

Bridges are symbols with deep roots in our cultural consciousness. From “The Bridge on the River Kwai,” and “A Bridge Too Far,” to “Bridge of Spies,” “Bridge to Tarabithia,” and, of course, the 1995 classic, “The Bridges of Madison County,” bridges evoke so much.

Fundamentally, bridges represent getting from here to there, here to somewhere else. (1)  They cross some kind of chasm, connect two places separated by some kind of gulf. (2)  Some bridges take a long time to traverse (3), while the journey over some others is pretty quick (4).  Some bridges are solid (5), when you’re on them you feel safe, secure.  Others are a little more … sketchy (6).  Some (7) are improvised, rather impermanent.  Others (8) you know can last for centuries.  Like those bridges in Meghalaya. (9, 10)

This morning I want to lift up three messages I find in this metaphor.  I’m talking particularly to our bridges, of course, yet I think we could all do well to listen.

First, even on the most solid of bridges crossing over from here to there is an act of faith.  You don’t always know (11) where there is.  We generally know where here is, but where there is, (12) and what’s waiting for you on the other side is not always so clear.  Sometimes you’re not even sure what’s under you, (13) what’s supporting you, what's keeping you up.  Yet we all have to cross over the bridges of our lives when we come to them. 

Oh, we don’t always have to be in a rush about it.  (14) Sometimes we’re able to take our time. (15)  Eventually, though, we all have to cross over the bridges of our lives. (16)  If we want to keep moving forward, that is.  If we want to truly be Alive, that is.

The second message in bridges is that crossing a bridge can be a dangerous thing.  That’s why so many movies set a fight scene on a bridge (17) – it ramps up the tension (18), because we all know, viscerally, that when you’re crossing a bridge from here to there, (19) there’s always the danger of falling.  Of course, there are some bridges that don’t give any cause for concern (20) -- they're not all that high, and a fall wouldn't be so bad.  And there are others that are built (21) so as to inspire every confidence, constructed to assure you of your safety.  But not all bridges are like that. (22)  There are some bridges that are truly dangerous (23) to traverse.  We know that we cross over them at our peril. (24)

Yet even these we have to cross if we want to keep moving forward and be truly Alive.  The truth is that even when it’s a bridge like this – and I hate to tell you, if your doing it right, you’ll come to such bridges more than once in your life – even when it’s a bridge like this – and maybe especially when it’s a bridge like this – it is actually far more dangers to our life’s journeys if we refuse to cross, and instead settle for staying stuck where we are.

So that’s two things – as we live our lives we will be faced with crossing over a bridge the end of which we can’t always know, and we will have to cross them even though we do know that it can be dangerous.  The third lesson comes specifically from those living bridges of Meghalaya. (25) The third lesson is that the bridges that are the strongest (26), that will truly stand the test of time, are those that we create with others (27), those bridges that are really Alive not only because they grow and evolve but also because they are made by living and loving hands. (28)  

You who are bridging today are about to cross a bridge (29) from here to there, from being seen as youth to being known as young adults.  And this bridge you cross has been lovingly built and carefully tended by your parents, your siblings, your friends, your teachers at school, your teachers here at church, the people who make up this Unitarian Universalist faith, and all those who have crossed over this bridge before you.  You, too, have a part in building this bridge, because as you cross it you leave something of yourself.  You add your own unique beauty, and you strengthen this bridge for all who will cross over it in all the years to come.

In this distinctively Unitarian Universalist ritual, one of the few shared by every Unitarian Universalist congregation, we recognize that you are young adults; that you’ve reached a milestone, a turning point, a transition in your lives and that we, as a community that loves you, recognize, mark this moment and honor this passage.

Oh, one more thing.  Despite the roughly 1,200 words I’ve just spoken, in the end it is up to you to determine just what the bridges of your life mean, and what messages you will glean from your crossings.  (30)   

Pax tecum,

RevWik

(1)(2) 

(3)(4)

(5) (6)

(7)(8)

(9) (10)

(11)(12)

(13)(14)

(15)(16)

(17)(18)

(19)(20)

(21)(22)

(23)(24)

(25)(26)

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(29)(30)

Little Boats and Living Bridges

This is the text of the reflections I offered to the congregation I serve on Sunday, June 3rd, 2018.  This was our annual "Bridging" service, at which we honor our graduating seniors and recognize that they have made the transition from "youth" to "young adult."

I want to tell you something absolutely amazing this morning.  Or, to be more precise, I want to tell you about something absolutely amazing.  You might think that I’m going to tell you about the youth who will be bridging in a moment – and you’re right, I could, they are amazing, and the journey that has brought them to this point in their lives has been amazing, and that the journeys that stretch out in front of them will be amazing – but I want to tell you about something else, instead. 

In northeast India there’s a region known as Meghalaya.  I first heard about Meghalaya several years ago through a video someone pointed me to.  A few years back, while trying to refresh my memories for that year’s Bridging service I discovered that this incredible place is only about two and a half hours away from Nongkrem, India, where our Khasi partner church is located.  Small world, right?  [If you want to know more about Nongkrem, there’s an amazing display in the Social Hall, created by one of our rising 5^th Graders, Sarah Colbert.]

What brought Meghalaya to my attention in the first place, as I said, was an online video I was directed to, a clip from a nature show, narrated by the incomparable English actor John Hurt, who died at the beginning of last year.  His voice is so distinctive; I’d put it right up there with James Earl Jones and Samuel L. Jackson as the best voice-over voice.  Yet great though his voice is, it’s what he was describing that really blew my mind.

Before I tell you about it, though, I want to call to your attention to the metaphor around which this whole service is built – the bridge.    Bridges come in all shapes and sizes.   All sorts of styles.  But whether they’re small or grand all bridges have at least one thing in common:  they connect here to there.  An apt metaphor, then, for the experience of moving from this time in your life to that; from here to there in life experience … say … a youth graduating from high school and being recognized as a young adult.  A big transition.  And, I suppose, you could go all Neo and try to jump it … but I think it’s better to use a bridge.  Of course some times you can’t quite see the other side, but if you trust the bridge, and those who built it, you know you can keep on moving forward.

And that brings me back to Meghalaya.

Centuries ago the people who live in this region realized that they, too, had need of bridges, and they developed the most extraordinary way of making them.  This is the picture on your Order of Service and what you’re seeing here is a bridge that is several hundred years old and is … and here’s the amazing part … alive.

In past years I’ve tried to use words to describe to you this incredible thing – this centuries-old practice of building living bridges, a practice passed down from generation to generation.  But, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, and a picture with words (given voice by John Hurt), well …  And since the weather is cooperating, giving us the perfect grey day which makes projection work in this sanctuary, here’s that video I first saw all those years ago:

I told you I was going to tell you about something absolutely amazing, right?

Bridges connect here to there.  And as those bridges from Meghalaya so clearly demonstrate, the space from here and there can often be treacherous.  There are bridges over troubled water, if you will.  And there are bridges that cross seemingly impossible gulfs, chasms so deep that it might seem that, as Mainer’s like to say, “ya can’t get theah from heah.”  And as Indian Jones taught many of us so many years ago we won’t always see the bridge we have to cross, yet with faith – faith in the truth that bridges will often appear when things might seem most bleak – as well as the courage that comes with a deep faith in ourselves – we just might find ourselves getting where we want to go, where we need to go, even if we’re not sure how we’re going to go to get there.

Leia gave us earlier the image of a littleboat in a vast, often overwhelming ocean.  But when it had friends, companions, it had the courage and the conviction to go anywhere – even past the edge of the world.  And let me tell you, those of you who are bridging this morning, it’s a big ole’ ocean out there and you and I really are tiny little boats (no matter how big we may feel from time to time).  That’s the bad news.  The good news is we’re not alone.  Not you, not me, not any of us.

And that might easily have been enough of a message for this day, but I couldn’t get those living bridges out of my head.  And that’s because the symbolic bridge you’ll be “crossing” in a few moments will be, in fact, a living bridge made by your advisors and your families and some of the young adults in this congregation who will be welcoming you into their midst.  And while not literally beneath your feet there’s another bridge, one that is right now laying out a path for those who will bridge, just as you are today, in years to come.

As Unitarian Universalists, we don’t have a first Communion.  We don’t have confirmation.  We don’t have bar and bat mitzvahs.  We don’t send our young girls and boys out into the bush to come back women and men.  Every culture of our human family has developed ways to mark and honor the transitional times which come in every life.  And so have we.

With this Bridging Ceremony we say that these youth who will shortly stand before us … we say that you will be considered here youth no longer after you’ve crossed this symbolic bridge.  We recognize that you are young adults; that you’ve reached a milestone, a turning point, a transition in your lives and that we, as a community that loves you, recognize this and want to mark and honor this passage.

To our bridgers – and to all of us, really – please remember that you’re not alone on that big ocean, wherever and however you chart your course (even to the edge of the world).  And trust that the living bridge that has borne you safe thus far will hold you, and grow stronger as the years go on.


Pax tecum,

RevWik