First Unitarian Universalist Society Burlington

November 17, 2024

(This not-quite-sermon, not-quite-homily was part of a larger worship service that explored Deep Time – back to the Great Flaring Forth (leaning heavily on the cosmological work of Swimme & Berry) and then into this future (inspired by one of the Work That Reconnects exercises developed by Joanna Macy).

I write to you from 200 years into the future – from 2225 – with my heart swelling with gratitude and with a message I hope brings you courage and comfort.

First: reassurance. After sinking deep into the abyss with the political chaos of the second, third, and into the fourth decades of the 21^st century, and after a period we call The Great Violence, humans around the world crawled our way up & out. Country by country, region by region, state by state, community by community, family by family, person by person.

We’re much smaller now in population, but I want you to know: we are thriving. And thriving in a sustainable way, adapting to the climate in ways that are actually working. I know you worried about that. But it’s true.

From the stories and songs we tell, I understand that you lived in a time of relentless, unbalanced greed that led to hate, revenge, and poisoning not only of the planet but also of the ways human gather: governments and culture. A tiny few seemed to have all the power – did you call them oligarchs? Yet, that system – we have retained the word as a warning: capitalism – crumbled. It wasn’t easy or pretty. It led to the period we call The Great Violence, but it did not last forever and it ushered in the Time That Came Next.

I hope the very fact of my presence seven generations into the future boosts your moral imagination for the time that is to come and the possibilities you cultivate in your time. I hope that this connection between us strengthens your own connection to faith that even when you do not know the next steps to make, you can trust yourself, others in your circles, and the future you are co-creating.

Human scale. Creature scale. Watershed scale. I’d say this is the best thing about the time I live in. The time my community thrives in.

When I hear stories about your time – about the period of Great Violence that descended upon you, that came before the Time of What Came Next – I think all the uncertainty about the future must have fed your fear. And there were real reasons to be afraid – the amount of firearms and ammunition freely available in your time, and then the ravages of disease that could not be healed. The stories from that period are harsh. I am so sorry that you, or your near descendants, experienced that.

The surviving songs and stories from that era tell of a newly emerging sense of reliance on each other, a deepening sense of interdependence that hadn’t seemed to be available. That confuses me, because relying on each other is always available in my time and seems to be intrinsic to being human. I really can’t fathom it. Anyway, our stories tell us that it was only out of dire necessity that you all came to rely on it in a way that made it not even second nature in my time, but our very nature. When I sometimes daydream about the past, I wish it hadn’t had to get so dire to learn that lesson.

And it’s not like we have eliminated violence in my time. It certainly seems to be part of being human. It’s just that now it’s at a smaller scale. Strangely, there’s more relationality, which allows for recovery and repair, which just didn’t seem possible in your time.

Our storytellers do sing and act and speak of some pockets of humanity – throughout the world, thankfully, who were already practicing deep reliance on each other, even in your time. Practicing it or trying to figure out how to.

We don’t always have the same names for places and people now as you did then – much was lost because in your time everything was – I getting the terminology right? Placed inside of clouds? I don’t understand how clouds can hold words or images or documents or records. In my time, clouds are in the sky. They are bringers of rain.  Sometimes, they bring too much rain, and with the too much rain they bring pain. I think that was true in your time, too.

Anyway, there was a place and people in the region where I live now that seemed to be ahead of other places and people in the rest of what I think you call your “nation.” I think the name for your place was green mountains, but maybe in a different language than English? Something like that.

My community calls this place Large Living Lake Green Mountain Surround. It’s a mouthful, but it reminds us that we are not separate from All That Is. While there are still parts of the lake which are still off limits, as the processes of natural cleansing and rewilding run their course, there are parts of the lake returning to life that were not so when my great grandparents were alive, so we see progress and trust it.

My parent and their parent taught me many things, which I pass onto those who are younger and in my care. I want to pass on two of them to you. The importance of faith and the necessity of gratitude.

First, faith. One of my dearest friends says this about faith:

Faith marries our insides with everything outside of us. It sooths, disrupts, illuminates and provokes. (Naomi Klayman)

I think that’s true. Faith is a necessity in my time and I can only imagine it should be in your time: allowing you to move through whatever fear surfaces in the face of cruelty and uncertainty, helping you to trust yourself and know whom among you to give your trust to. I hope you find your way to faith.

Secondly, and lastly: gratitude. I am thankful that you all did not give up – especially those of you living at the time when the governments of so many of your nations turned towards greed and control. I want you to know that in my time, we understand that the decisions you made as communities of people, not governments of individuals, made our survival possible.  Not just our survival but our thriving.

You chose, over and over, how to build and be a sustainable scale. You chose compassion over commerce. It made all the difference. I can’t speak for everyone living in my generation, 200 years from when you are. However, I do speak from my heart:
thank you.