Thank you. Thank you for 25 years of ministry, of a quarter century journey with you through life’s trials and tribulations. When Kristen and I arrived in the summer of 1999 with an 8mo old, two dogs and a cat, we were welcomed with open arms and held by you as we ventured into an unknown future. 25 years later, with the addition of a second child, our children, Morgaine and Charlie, are now exploring adulthood. You gave them a community in which to grow and explore their own passions and ideas. Because of you, my family and I have been able to become deeply rooted in this community. It is hard to believe that Kristen and I have been in Worcester longer than either of us spent in our homes of origin in southeastern Pennsylvania. That we have been able to know one home during this time, has been a gift that we all treasure.
You and I have been through community tragedies and triumphs, the tragedy of 9/11 and the warfare that followed, economic crises, political upheaval, marathon bombings, a pandemic, and so much more. We’ve seen the right of civil marriage recognized for our LGBTQI friends and family, we witnessed the extraordinary election of our nation’s first Black President, the completion of the human genome, advances in disease management and care, the life-altering introduction of social media technologies, cell phones, and advancements in computer technology. We’ve seen the advent of commercial space-flight, and significant advances in women’s sports, the publication of histories that celebrate the work of people who have been marginalized and whose contributions to our well-being were unrecognized and now are celebrated. Occupy Wall Street and the Black Lives Matter movements gave us ways to channel our outrage and injustice, and efforts to address climate change have seen the advent of new technologies, and deepening awareness and concern for the plight of our planet.
Throughout all of this, we’ve held each other. We’ve celebrated the lives of those whose lives continue to give ours meaning and whose spirit and efforts are now borne through our own. It is a rare thing for a minister to serve in one place long enough to dedicate children that now return to be married, and to see the dedication of their own children. Those that we’ve lost along the way are a constant meditation on the importance of a community of legacy and hope, where we can remember with joy and serve with humility.
Because of you I am a better minister than I was 25 years ago. You have been patient, kind, and understanding. I have made many mistakes along the way. You have helped and continue to help me be better at what I do. It is humbling and an honor to be invited into the lives of people during their most precious and vulnerable moments. An honor I have never and will never take for granted or lightly.
And, it has always been important for me to remember and reflect that what happens at UUCW is not about me, but about us. Our ministry is a group effort. It takes the creative vision, talent, resources, and energies of a lot of people to do what we do. You have been and are the greatest gift I have received in this process.
Where we go from here is, again, up to us. This milestone is just that, a milestone. My hope is that there will be more to come. What we have together has been and continues to be incredible. I hope that in the coming months and years we continue to do all that we do so well and learn to do all of it even better.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. I want to close with a reading that has been particularly meaningful to me over the years. I hope it speaks meaning to you as well.
Who Is a Unitarian Universalist Minister? by Rev. Jack Mendelsohn
A Unitarian Universalist minister is a person never completely satisfied or satisfiable, never completely adjusted or adjustable—a person who walks in two worlds: one of things as they are, the other of things as they ought to be—and loves them both.
Ministers are persons with pincushion souls and elastic hearts, who sit with the happy and the sad in a chaotic pattern of laugh, cry, laugh, cry—and know deep down that the first time their laughter is false or their tears are make-believe, their days as real ministers are over.
Ministers are people with dreams they can never wholly share, partly because they have some doubts about them, and partly because they are unable to explain adequately what it is they think they see and understand.
A minister is a person who continually runs out of time, out of wisdom, out of courage, and out of money; a person whose tasks involve great responsibility and little power, who must learn to accept people where they are and go from there; a person who must never try to exercise influence that has not been earned.
The minister who is worthy knows all this and is still thankful every day of their life for the privilege of being—a minister.
The future of the liberal church is almost totally dependent on these two factors: great congregations (whether big or small) and effective, dedicated ministers. The strangest feature of their relationship is that they create one another.