As always, this text is close to what I said in the pulpit, but not exact, for a sermon is always a present-moment experience with the people gathered. Some of the wise lines in this sermon came from a few women who advised and discussed this topic with me in the past week; I asked if they wanted to be credited and they declined.

Here we are at the end of spring and the beginning of summer. The school year is ending. School kids have been saying goodbye to teachers and classmates. Teachers have been saying goodbye to kids and colleagues. The summer is also a time when some people change jobs and move to a new place, saying goodbye to neighbors and friends. These are just some of the more obvious and expected goodbyes.

Throughout life, there are many junctures which offer opportunity for a goodbye.
In our congregation right now, we are at a time of goodbyes with the Lead Minister, Rev. Erik Wikstrom, who has served this congregation since July 2011, and ends his service here on June 30.
And on August 31, Chris Rivera, Director of Administration and Finance ends her four years of service here.
This congregation has had goodbyes before, and will have them again.

Throughout life, we experience endings, and if we are lucky, we get to say goodbye. Goodbyes happen in so many different ways in life.

Goodbyes can be private or public.
Goodbyes can be expected or unexpected.
Goodbyes can be drawn out or sudden.
Goodbyes can be wanted or unwanted.
Goodbyes can be offset—one person says goodbye long before the other. Goodbyes are an external action, based on internal processing.

Who here among us has not looked back and wished they might have said a goodbye better?
Who here has realized, too late, that they can come to terms with a complicated situation enough to say what they want to say?

In order to explore this, let’s look at it through a story and characters that may be familiar to you: The Wizard of Oz. In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy begins in the familiar stillness of a Kansas farm, and the suddenness of a tornado carries her, against her will, to a new and magical place. She doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye to her Aunty Em and the others.

Throughout her journey in Oz, she meets many different people and creatures. Right at the start, she meets Glenda, the Witch of the East, who pretty soon says goodbye to her, and offers her gifts to help her on her way. She goes on to meet other creatures, some of whom she relates to with kindness and some with fear. Some she thanks and some she hurts. Some she has wild adventures with. And by the end, she says very deliberate and thoughtful goodbyes with the Wizard, the Lion, the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. She is sad, but peaceful.

As we look at the characters in this story and the choices they made, what can we observe? Dorothy could have magically left without saying goodbye—she had the power from the Wizard and her magic shoes. She could have let it be one more ending or closure or transition or change that went unmarked, like the tornado that took her at the beginning.

Dorothy had especially meaningful goodbyes with the Tin Man, Scarecrow, and Lion because they knew each other’s stories. They had learned and grown together.
One person that Dorothy did not have a meaningful goodbye with is the Witch of the West. Dorothy felt intimidated by her and eventually threw water on her to bring her demise. Dorothy never learned her story. But, someone did eventually ask that question: What was going on that made the Witch of the West behave the way she did? How did the world look to her? And so, many years later, a creative author wrote a whole new book called Wicked, and it was made into a very popular musical.

So, as we consider what these characters experienced,
When you boil it down, why is goodbye even something to talk about?
Because humans thrive on interconnectedness, and because a goodbye means that interconnectedness is shifting. The shift may be large or small, but nonetheless, there is a change.
Because one’s identity is tied to how one relates to another person, and when that person is no longer there in the same way, one’s very identity is challenged. We have roles, such as a father, daughter, coworker, or friend.
So, there is sorrow, grief.
It might be easier not to face.

Literally, the brain neurons have to regrow new pathways to make sense of how to operate without that person there. This can be tiring. One example that comes to mind is when a person has had a dog that always met them at the door; after the death of the dog, arriving home can be disorienting. One has to adjust to new patterns.
It can be scary.
It might be easier to avoid.

As people seeking to live good lives, we seek to love well. And sometimes love means the courage to do what is scary and tiring. To face those conversations that would be easier to avoid.
Your goodbye is part of your story, but the other person has their story, too. Do you even know it? Would it help to know how this goodbye looks to them?

To look closer at one type of goodbye, I’m going to use an example from the hospital, and I have to tell you that I am bit amused that since I started working half time at the hospital two years ago, (I have served here half time for nine years), I have noticed how many hospital examples creep into my sermons. I have tried to hold back, to offer you more diverse examples. But, what can I say: the hospital is a distillation of the challenges of life, and that crucible is worth looking at.

When a person goes to the hospital, most often they leave again after getting help. But a very few times, a person dies in the hospital. When a person is getting close to death, the spiritual care team tries to offer support to the family. I often give this suggestion: say five things while you still can:
1) Thank you. This could be a big thank you such as “Thanks Dad for raising me to be a respectful husband.” Or smaller thank yous.
2) I forgive you. This could be a big complex forgiveness that takes years to process, or something simpler and easier to talk about. Ideally, this becomes a back and forth conversation, and can happen over multiple conversations, depending on the relationship. 3) Please forgive me. This means naming something that happened, taking responsibility for it, and telling the other person, and hopefully having some conversation.
4) I love you. I love you can come in so many forms and for so many reasons.
5) Goodbye. That is just two syllables, but I can tell you that those two syllables can sometimes be the hardest ones to form with one’s mouth, especially when one doesn’t want to lose a loved one. It takes courage.

Saying it to the person does something for you
Not saying it does something to you.

Listen again:Saying it to the person does something for you Not saying it does something to you.

Part of this is timing. We may not know when another person’s illness is going to sap their energy and make them unable to communicate. So, better to start sooner than later.

Now, my friends, I am not saying this is easy. Even as I speak, I am guessing you are remembering a difficult death or a tender time, or fearing an upcoming loss.

No, it is not easy, but a life well-lived means taking time to discern what needs to be said.

Perhaps there is guilt about something done or left undone. Let me be clear here: guilt is different from shame. Shame is when another person invalidates someone’s truth, and they internalize that, and they become smaller. Guilt is when a person behaves outside their value set and then needs to make it right, and by making it right, they become more whole.

And that is the goal here. To be more whole. It means facing loss. And when possible, facing that loss together. I like the term “blessed acceptance” from a minister named Roy Oswald.

This is a life skill. A psychologist named John Hughes has observed: “I contend that saying hello and saying goodbye are the two major learning tasks all humans need to accomplish. … Some children come into this world and have no one in their family really say hello to them. Can you imagine what its like trying to learn to say hello to others in the world when no one ever said hello to you when you were born? … Others never learn to say goodbye to Mama or Daddy. Hence, even though he or she has long since passed on, he or she still continues to dominate this person’s life.”
(both quotes from Running through the Thistles, a short booklet by Roy Oswald, published by Alban Institute, 1978.)

And so, reflecting on these psychological questions, you may be asking yourself, how do I learn and keep growing?

Well, one way we can learn is literally by reading, if that’s a way of learning that works for you. Consider the issue of goodbye in divorce. There are lots of divorce books out there. Some have titles like This Isn’t the Life I Ordered, or, considering helping kids, a book called Why Do You Have to Get a Divorce and When Can I Get a Hampster?
But listen to these two titles:
The Good Divorce.
Conscious Uncoupling.
These books are declaring that there really is a way to do the goodbyes in ways that require hard work, that pays off.

Another way we can learn goodbyes is through trial and error. Here is an example. Many years ago, when I lived in a large house shared by many roommates and friends, I had a learning experience such as this. I had announced to the group that I would be leaving in a few months and would moving to another town for a different job. One of my friends there came to me, and very sincerely said: “I am so sad you are leaving. But I want to stay connected while you leave. The last time a friend left here, I checked out. I was so sad that she was leaving that I just stopped hanging around with her, and then she was gone,” she said. She went on: “With you, I’d rather help you, spend time with you, even if it means packing boxes with you, helping you look for your new place to live.” This person learned through trial and error how she wanted to handle future good byes, and I benefitted from her learning.

Many romantic songs tell us that an ending means a new beginning. And yet, we might say that a goodbye means two new beginnings. Each person in the goodbye gets to choose how they will move forward. Let it be mindful.
Before taking a step, it often helps to take look at the scene. To be curious. To be open to the current reality.

The altar this month is about our monthly theme of curiosity.
So many different shapes and spaces up here.
Is the goodbye you are facing large and contained and clear like this beaker? Is it dense and complicated like coral or barnacles?
Is it small and simple and familiar like a shell?

Here is a saying that I love: “A goodbye is a hole until you fill it.”

My friends, may you fill all your goodbyes with love. Amen.

—Rev. Alexandra McGee, for TJMC UU June 9, 2019, with love and deep care.