Sermon:
Many years ago I learned one of my favorite ways
of preparing and delivering a sermon.
The preacher who taught this method said,
First, tell them what you're going to tell them.
Second, tell them.
Third, tell them what you told them.
I don't follow that pattern perfectly
simply because it doesn't always work
exactly the way one would expect.
On the other hand,
if you pay attention, you will find
that I do follow the pattern fairly closely
in many of my sermons.
Today I expect to follow it quite closely.
So, here we go:
I'll be sharing three major points in today's sermon:
First, I'll talk about the Solstice.
Second, I'll talk about fathering. (on Father’s Day!)
Third and finally, I'll talk about reopening.
The Solstices are among the highest
of high holy days
among those of us who treasure
earth (creation) based spirituality.
For me, there is no other spirituality in truth
than that which is based on earth (Creation),
since spirituality is concerned first and foremost
with breath.
Our breath is part of our own creation
and our relationship with the earth.
A Solstice reminds us of our connection
to the created order of which we are a part.
Both Solstices, Winter and Summer,
are more of a Season than a single day.
In both cases the Solstice Season
appears to last about a month,
since for about two weeks
before and two weeks after the Solstice,
the length of days seems to change very little.
The very term, Solstice, means,
"Sun stands still."
As we understand, the sun, the earth,
and all heavenly bodies
are in constant motion at all times,
but from the point of view of the Earth,
the sun appears to trace a pattern in the sky.
As the Solstice approaches,
the sun appears to slow down.
At the time of the Solstice itself,
today at 8:31 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time,
the sun appears to stand still
before it changes direction in its journey
across and around the sky.
Because of a variety of factors,
the Summer Solstice this year can mark for us
some new opportunities to address issues
that will be important for us all in times to come.
I'm speaking first and foremost of climate change.
The sun is the source of heat and light
upon which we all depend
for life on our small planet.
We have been blessed with an abundance of energy,
both of and from here and now
with the sun’s energy every day,
and of and from ancient times
in the form of energy in fossil fuels.
We have not always been good stewards
of either form of energy,
but it is not too late for us to learn.
Like a good father,
the sun can be a teacher for us,
reminding us of endings and new beginnings,
and helping us commit ourselves
to a new kind of stewardship of his gifts.
Obviously, speaking of the sun as father
is a metaphor
for the providence of so many gifts
we receive from the sun, our day star.
As the summer season begins,
it also begins to end.
[Here or as a hymn / special music]
Solstice hymn:
Summer sun, summer sun,
We watch as you set,
Sending your long arms of light from the West.
Summer sun, summer sun,
You shine so bright,
As you begin your return to the night.
Like many of life's gifts
and like many a good parent,
the sun reminds us
of the brevity and preciousness of our lives.
Like a good father,
the sun is thus a good teacher.
If we are paying attention,
we can learn good stewardship
of our planet and its resources.
A good father is a great example of
of nurturing in the process of parenting.
A good mother is likewise, of course,
and because today is Father's Day,
our thoughts and emphasis
are on the nurturing fathers among us.
To nurture a child from infancy
through near adulthood
is to ensure the hope
that we all may thrive
into the future of our world.
I want to share a reading about fathering
that seems most appropriate to me.
I Believe in Fathering
By Evin Carvill Ziemer
I believe in fathering
I believe in the radical idea that men have the full human capacity to nurture
Hair bows and baseballs
Cooking and creativity
Tools and tiaras
Camping and dancing
Snuggles and shrieks of delight
Too many fathers don’t believe in their own fathering
Too many are scarred by their own fathers to hear their heart say otherwise
Too many have known fathers who, faced with a quivering lip and tears, could only say “man up."
Too many have known fathers who knew only yelling and hitting
Too many have known fathers who lost sight of their sacred role of protector and became tormentor
But I believe in fathering.
When a human being gestates and gives birth their brain changes permanently.
A father’s brain changes permanently too—changes as he rocks his baby to sleep, delights in baby games, and soothes bumps and bruises. A father earns his new neurobiology.
In a world where too many mothers hand their co-parent directions more specific than those given to the babysitter;
Where a father out with his kids is asked, “Are you babysitting?” and “Where’s mom?”;
Where fathers are the punch line,
I believe in fathering. I believe in the radical idea that men have the full human capacity to nurture.
Whether their children come through birth, adoption, or fostering; through scouts, sports, Sunday school, or youth group
I’ve known too many gay dads, too many single fathers, too many men raising children others couldn’t to believe otherwise.
I believe we all—especially our children—deserve to know that the human capacity to nurture belongs to every one of us.
I believe in fathering.
I also believe in fathering,
and...
Now, finally, we get to think about one more thing
especially for today.
It's fitting somehow that this day coincides with
the holy day of the Summer Solstice.
We are able to nurture each other
into a hope filled future
as many of us gather in person
for our worship celebration today.
I'm speaking of the experience
we are all sharing at present
in the opportunity (finally)
for reopening
as the pandemic begins to recede.
Our own congregation,
the beloved community of the NIUU,
is experiencing the joy of gathering in person
for the first time in more than a year.
At first, even waiting until the end of a season,
not even to speak of the whole year,
was daunting for most of us.
As the pandemic progressed,
we were forced to recognize the importance
of protecting each other
by staying apart, far longer than we expected.
One of the greatest ironies I have observed
was the reality that a church gathering
was among the most dangerous kinds
of opportunities for the disease to spread.
Contagion is a dreadful thing
unless we are catching good things
like hope and love from each other.
It has been such a blessing for us
that we could continue to gather virtually, online,
while we could not gather in person.
It is my fond hope that many of us
who have been participating in our worship times
via Zoom are with us now by the same method.
The reopening of our in person gatherings
brings with it our desire to stay open
to each other by providing for each other's needs
according to the best of our abilities.
We want to be careful of each other's safety
as levels of risk from disease contagion
vary so widely from one person to another.
We also want to consider each other's feelings
so that those who are more comfortable
with such experiences as hugs
and being together without masks
do not become opportunities for contention.
Now I want to tell you all what I just told you.
I spoke of the Solstice
and the ways our day star, the sun,
reminds us of the importance
of caring for our world
as we move through time upon it.
Then I spoke of fathering,
how a man can be a nurturing parent,
a loving father,
fully as well as a woman,
a loving mother.
Finally, I spoke of the wonder and joy
of reopening as we are able (finally)
to be together in person
even as we continue to share our online presence
with those who are best able to join with us
in that way.
Amen.
So let it be.
Blessed be.