Today’s service continues our theme of belonging. During an interim period between settled ministers, we must be intentional about the threads that hold us together. As we heard in the story this morning, these threads often take the form of the covenants we share. A few weeks ago, we witnessed the Board covenanting, and this morning, Rev. Joyce and I entered into covenant.
At the end of this sermon, I will invite you to covenant with me for this first year of interim work. It’s been more than 17 years since you’ve had an interim minister, and this work is specific to the transition ahead. Now is the time to be intentional—tracing these threads of covenant through our tradition, this congregation’s history, and your lives. As Howard Thurman suggests in our reading, we all hold ends of these strings, connected to people we care about, visions of who we’ve been and want to be, and the dreams and tangled messes of life.
The question is this: How do we stay present in these moments and plan for the future? Spirituality calls us to cherish the present—not focus only on where we’re headed. This interim time is more than a technical or adaptive shift; it’s a spiritual journey. It’s a time to reflect on what has been, find joy and challenge in our time together, and anticipate the next chapter of your story. I invite us to take this spiritual journey together.
A few lessons from vanlife will serve as metaphors for this interim ministry. Over 37 years and several campers—through VW vans, teardrops, something resembling a giant egg to a tiny Japanese campervan—we’ve learned about thriving on the road, making transitions, and embracing the unexpected. Some of those lessons [surprise!] relate to interim ministry: finding joy in transition, being intentional, and using useful tools.
Let’s look at these lessons through the five tasks of interim ministry:
- History: Two camp chairs and a fire stove invite us to explore who you have been.
- Identity: These two flags that Cindy hang at our campsite represent the importance of this church’s identity, which we will explore together.
- Leadership: A good multitool is essential in fixing things. I’ll carry the multi-tool for the small fixes. I’ll leave the big ones to tackle together.
- Denominational Connection: This rope, which I used a few weeks ago as a metaphor for connection, reminds us of how we are connected to our denomination and tradition. We will explore these. .
- Preparing for the Future: And there’s nothing like a good set of binoculars to see ahead. But vision isn’t helpful unless you have a good map, and this gazetteer provides both an overview and details.
After almost 20 years in ministry without a sabbatical, in 2023 Cindy and I spent almost a year living in a camper van. It was something between a self-funded sabbatical and experimental retirement. Life had brought us back from overseas with an early and unexpected retirement from the Air Force, and we thought we’d go full-time nomadic for at least two years. We lasted 10 months. Why? Aside from living in 133 square feet with a dog [gestures about size], we missed our threads. We missed belonging. Vagabonding from National Park to National Park was wonderful, but we missed family, community, and friends. We missed our threads.
We attempted to create some connections by joining HOWA, the “Homes on Wheels Alliance,” a nonprofit connecting nomads with resources. Of the 3.1 million full-time RVers and Nomads on the road, 300,000 aren’t there by choice. HOWA gave us a sense of belonging, even on the road. But, in the end, the threads of family and community called us home. Yet, after nine major cross-country and international moves through 19 homes, it wasn’t obvious where we belonged. Last year, we decided on Madison to be near our son, family, and granddaughters. We just bought what we’re calling our “forever home” where we might age in place. When this job with you popped up, really unexpectedly, I considered moving down. But Cindy wisely said “no” and reminded me of our commitment to trying out this whole “settling down” thing everyone talks about. It’s nice to be partnered with someone wiser than me.
While using nomadic life as a metaphor for interim ministry has been whimsical, do not be distracted. The stakes remain very high. Our country (with all its flaws, false starts, and historical sins) is in peril. Society needs progressive religious voices more than ever, so the future health of this institution matters. And please hear me: this is a healthy church. Many congregations in transition aren’t. Some are hot messes. You are strong, faithful to your values, and know who you are, so I don’t plan on coming in and breaking things just to repair them. I’ll be curious, observant, and maybe even nudge you toward growth. But the choice to accept or reject suggestions is yours. I may be an astrological Taurus, but I promise not be a bull in this China shop.
The stakes are very high. We saw it this past week in a horrible and inexcusable act of political violence. Instead of using this moment to unite us in non-violence, however, the White House has started compiling a list of “left-wing organizations,” such as the Ford Foundation and George Soros’s Open Society Foundations, it says are tied to political violence. The reality is these two groups don’t support violence but
Accountable government and transparency
Justice and equality
Support for minority groups
Promoting humane drug policies
Reforming criminal justice
Supporting voter registration efforts
Funding scholarship
Supporting micro-loans in India and access to healthcare
This could just as well describe us. These are struggles to which we belong! If this is the criteria for a black list, our association certainly fits. To quote my favorite Democratic Socialist punk rock icon Billy Bragg, “If you’ve got a black list I want to be on it.” We could lose our tax-exempt status, said one White House official. The stakes are very high.
So high, in fact, that my word processor’s AI suggested cutting this last paragraph because it’s too controversial. It didn’t want me talking about this bit of news. It tried to keep me out of trouble. Are we the find of faithful who avoid trouble when the lives of others are at stake?
The stakes are high, not only politically but ecologically. Timothy Beal writes in When Time Is Short that we’re already living the ecological end times. He encourages a response of love and connection, but not denial.
Christian author David McLaren, in his latest book, Life After Doom, writes that now is not the time for churches to wait passively for the end times of civilization to come. Since he left the pastorate he’s noticed that few of the spiritually oriented people who come to hear him want to talk about civilizational collapse. A popular speaker, McLaren says he gets hired to provide hope and practical guidance for the world and its challenges. “I’ve done my best to do so,” he writes, “but in the last several years it’s been hard and harder to keep doing that. He says he wants to grab every pope, bishop, denominational executive, pastor, and seminary professor by the lapels and yell “what the frack are you doing? Arguing about theological trivialities while the world burns? Worrying about preserving organ music and quaint architecture as the sixth mass extinction is unfolding? Why aren’t you reorganizing everything? Aren’t you in the saving business?”
We are in the saving business, and we must focus our efforts where they matter most. This interim period asks us to consider: What are we arguing about that we don’t need to? How can we focus our energy to maximize our impact? And it’s not about organ music and architecture. McLaren doesn’t say “stop enjoying classical music or beautiful things.” He says we just don’t have time to argue about it. Now more than ever, we must find joy where it exists and focus our attention where it matters. This interim period invites examination; the times in which we live make interim work even more relevant. It’s time to step up our game, and ask good questions: What are we arguing about that we don’t need to? Where can we focus so our impact is maximized. These commitments to Love are the threads that bind progressive religious people together. While we may not believe the same things about God or prayer, I’ve never seen UUs fail to unite against the oppression of bullies and the impacts of our actions.
Rest assured, our work for justice won’t cease during this interim. In addition to our five interim tasks to help focus our efforts, we will also explore our congregation’s culture by examining what organizational consultant David Augsburger calls the “four Rs”: rules, roles, rituals, and roots. What rules, unspoken taboos, or sacred cows distract us from our goals? What roles do we play—staff, volunteers, members? What rituals sustain and inspire us? And what are the roots of this congregation, providing clues to our strengths and challenges?
Interim periods are about belonging. In them, we explore what that means. To whom do we belong? Whose are we? Who are we? What holds our attention? What guides our vision?
Do you belong here? Do I belong here? Yes and yes. We live within a covenant, grounded in Love. It may sound easy, but it’s not. As humans, it’s easy to act out of malice or hurt, but our covenant calls us back to peace. This foundation of love and peace guides us toward reason, freedom, and service to humanity.
So, what does this interim year look like? It looks like this hour. Examining our world through our UU lens. Speaking love and resistance to power. We will fold into this work that we’ve always done… and:
We will have fun, as we have this morning.
We will grieve the losses of what was—expectations unmet and the weight of change.
We will get serious, as we have this morning.
We will be in covenant, as we have affirmed today.
We will explore questions.
We will dream dreams.
We will examine and renew.