What Is Holy

Posted on January 18, 2013 by Patrice

When we feel fragile in spirit, in body, let us quiet our mind.
When struggle threatens to swamp us,
Let the voice within us whisper,
like the soft breeze that tickles our ears,
like the rain that falls onto our face.
Let the voice within us speak gently,
so that we do not pull tight the scarf around our neck,
or wrap our arms tight around our body,
or bow our heads so we do not see.
Speak gently,
so that we open our eyes,
fling wide our arms,
extend our palms: accept love.

When we reach out our hand
to caress a baby’s cheek,
to grasp our neighbor’s hand,
to place coins in the plastic cup on the sidewalk,
let us remember the indescribable wonder,
the flow of energy between us,
all beings, the cosmos;
between us and the Holy.
May we be awake to the splendor
that we co-create with the Divine,
in each moment,
all the days of our lives.

Prayer written for SKSM, January 17, 2013
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Getting Back on the Bike

Posted on January 6, 2013 by Patrice

This was my first sermon preached at First Unitarian in Portland on Oct. 14, 2012.

When I was around five years old, I got a shiny, new bike with training wheels. One day, if I am remembering this correctly, I decided I’d had enough of the training wheels, and I had the babysitter take them off. I remember crying through that day. I remember I kept banging my ankles on the chain guard. I remember falling off – bang on to the asphalt – and scraping my knees. I remember my shins getting scraped up too. I remember every time I hit my ankles or knees more than a few times. Ouch. And what I remember is that on that day, I learned to ride.

Today, just a bit on the other side of the freeway, as you go over the bridge into NW Portland, there is a little hill I ride down. I think it’s Jefferson Street. I think I reach a top speed of  25 mph on my bike. I always feel exhilarated flying down that hill.
But I also know, every time I ride down it, that I could fall, and if I did, I could get really, really hurt. (Here I have to pause and say, because I’m superstitious and because my partner is here, that I am not going to fall going down that hill. Ever. And I’m going to knock on wood for good measure.) My thrill as I fly down that hill, usually in as aerodynamic position as I can get, is directly tied to my 5-year-old self. I can never not be that little girl with the banged-up knees and shins and ankles.

We all have stories like this, about our bumps and bruises. Some of those bruises we expected, maybe from the result of us stretching and growing in some way. Some bumps, though, we did not expect. To embrace life leaves us open to being hurt. We are glorious, beautiful, wounded beings. Read more

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A Prayer for Christmas Eve

Posted on December 26, 2012 by Patrice

Spirit of Life and Love,

Thank you for the peace of this night. We know that all around the world there are those who in this moment are not so blessed. Thank you for the joy pulsing in so many of our hearts on this holy night and may we be mindful of those who struggle through this time of year.

Thank you for drawing us together here, a religious community gathered in love, together rejoicing in the good times, and helping each other weather the difficult. Let us draw nearer each other, celebrating that which makes us alike, and witnessing the inner beauty that shines in each of us. May we see that it is the same inner beauty of the baby Jesus, and that all new babes share this beauty and innocence.

The babies born in all the yesterdays, today and all the days to come share that beauty and innocence. Every baby is precious, come unto us wrapped in a cloak of divine light. Our lives are intertwined with each small being born into the community of humankind, and we are responsible for their well-being.

In the velvet darkness of this holy night, help us recall that when we are in despair for all that is hard in this world, when desolation threatens to overtake us, a shimmering, bright star can stop us in our tracks, like a giggling baby pulls us into moments of grace.

That small being cannot yet form words, and yet, still speaks to our hearts so loudly that we extend our finger to make contact with a tiny, grasping, hand. Our gaze softens and we are reminded of that soft, tender spot within us.

Please, Spirit of Life and Love, call us to live our lives in honor of each precious infant born unto this world. May we each day freshly remember to meet them wherever we are with all the love and compassion we can muster.

We know that only we can show them by our actions the goodness and love in this world, the precious life of a frog and a hummingbird, a puppy and a hamster; the beauty of a gingko tree and a tangled manzanita bush; the vast ocean and the vast plains of the desert; and on and on. The babies learn from us.

Help us tend to our own souls so that we are prepared for this most holy work. Help us forgive those trespasses against us which we still hold on to, and may we be forgiven the trespasses we have committed. Help us be grateful for the grace in our lives, and give us strength to carry the burdens that sometimes come our way. Help us open our hearts as wide as we can manage, and through exercise, help our hearts continually open wider. When we are stressed and tired, may we remember that the babes amongst us are always learning from us, from what we say, what we don’t say, the way we act. All of us, parents or not, are caregivers: help us reach this understanding, deep in our bones, so that the children learn how to love and how to live with Holy grace.

We each have unique gifts to offer children; may we praise the gifts we see in others, and cultivate our own by sharing them. The children are our salvation; they will become those who stand against oppression, rise up against domination. They will be the next builders and iron-workers to bend the arc of justice toward freedom. And they will tend to the next generations of holy infants. They are the transformers of the world.

They are love’s pure light.

Alleluia. So may it be. — Patrice

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