In this article, drawn from her July 10 sermon, Rev. Alex shares about her decision in May to candidate at the UU congregation in Charleston, West Virginia, and her subsequent decision not to move.
The poet Robert Frost wrote a poem called The Road Less Taken about a traveler who comes upon a fork in a road. The traveler considers options for a while, and then picks the path that is covered with more leaves, showing that fewer people have traveled that way. The poem ends by saying, “I took the road less traveled, and that has made all the difference.” Often in our society, that is an ideal to which people aspire. But much of the time, we need to take the road more traveled.
TENSIONS
What I hear in many life stories, is that when two roads diverge in a wood, we often end up living with the tension of two very valued options. Often, we have physical needs such that we can’t take the spiritual high road. Or, we have emotional needs such that we can’t choose the path of physical security. I imagine you can think of a time in your life that you wanted to follow a passion, and had to figure out how to do that in the context of limitations and other commitments.
For example, a mother who chose to have kids, but sees her career options limited.
For example, A father who is divorced and sees the cost of maintaining a home.
For example, an artist who pursues a passion and knows it means their retirement planning is compromised.
For example, an elderly person whose capacities are diminishing, and so for security reasons they give up some of the things they love.
MY RECENT JOURNEY
Another example is from the story of my life, in a recent chapter, when I felt a call to serve the UU congregation in Charleston, WV, and they asked me to be their ministerial candidate. This all happened very fast, under a new search process structure, which allows congregations who did not find a minister in the usual year-long search cycle, to put their name in the hat a second time to find a candidate. I, myself, had not been in the year-long search process, and decided in late spring to consider the congregation in Charleston, and that was the only one I considered. But, what I discovered was that three weeks was not enough time for me to decide in my heart whether I was ready to change my home. And, so, while I was with them for their week of candidating, I ended up withdrawing my name from consideration. This was extraordinarily hard, because I had very good reasons for considering the change of ministry. These reasons included that I would be able to grow as a solo minister in a full-time ministry, which many see as a natural move after having served here half-time as an assistant minister for six years. But, while I was in Charleston, I realized in my fibers that I simply could not imagine changing my home. In short, I realized I wanted to choose domesticity over “career.”
During this discernment, which was often a struggle, in those few short weeks, I asked again and again for spiritual guidance. I asked my mentors, I asked the Higher Power as I understand it. In ministry, we listen for a calling. I thought I was being called to blossom in Charleston. To my surprise, as the week passed, I heard a different voice, that the place for me to contribute right now is here in the community where I already am in the fabric. And yet, having ventured forth, I can not come back the same person. I need to make a new way here. In the coming year here at TJMC, I will be focusing more on supporting servant leaders; I will focus newly on listening to personal stories; I will contribute to refining our operating systems.
Now, this story is just one example of how one human navigated one passage. And chose the road more traveled, or perhaps the road less traveled. It depends on the perspective you take.
In this sermon I gave on July 10, 2016, called “The Road More Travelled,” I invited listeners to reflect on three lessons: that staying still can be okay; that time has sacred moments; and that we need to listen for the still, small voice. These three lessons apply to our personal lives, our congregational life, our country, and our world.
The metaphor of a river can apply to life because there are times when we are moving in the river of life, and times when our lives have stillness, like the little inlets at the edge of the river, where the water stays still a while. When things are not moving forward, we may assume they are not successful. When we experience times of stillness, the journey may seem stagnant, or boring. But these places of still water at the edge of the river is where reeds grow, and where wildlife drink. There is value in the still, waiting water.
KAIROS AND CHRONOS
Sometimes life is like the river that seems to take forever to flow, and sometimes life is like a river where all the flows come together at once. The ancient Greeks knew this truth, and so they had two words for time.
Kairos (καιρός) is an ancient Greek word meaning the right or opportune moment. Chronos refers to chronological or sequential time.
If you know that both of these types of time are true, you open up your options for how you live your life, and create freedom in considering whether or not you missed opportunities.
I read a spiritual blogpost this week in which the author asks: “Did I miss out on my chance to make a difference?” Well, this author goes on to answer his own question by exploring the difference between chronos time and kairos time. If you measure by chronos time, you measure by the earth circling the sun, by seasons, by days and nights, by minutes ticking on the clock. But another concept is kairos time. In kairos time, we are open to the mystery moments, to grace acting in our lives, to opportunities where everything that matters might come together in an instant.
For those who were not at the July 10 service, I have written this article for the September bulletin of the newsletter as a way of sharing with you an update of where I am in my ministry. I have served at TJMC-UU with you since beginning my service in July 2010, during the interim ministry of Rev. Janet Newman. We have seen many changes. And I continue to listen for the still, small voice inside of me about the best way for me to be here with you. And I will continue to encourage the congregation as a whole to listen for the voice of wisdom that guides it forward. In peace,
Alex serves our congregation 20 hours a week as Assistant Minister and is available for appointments for pastoral conversation. Feel free to call or email the church office to get in touch with her.