‘Time Has Changed’

By Emily Bruce
UUAC First Parish at Sherborn
April 5, 2020

Reading – ‘Prayer’ by Rev. Gretchen Haley

There is enough space

between us

to hold

all that you are carrying

all you’ve been waking wondering

worrying, or wearing out with

confusion, or attempts to control,

trying to find some sense of normal,

all of your irritability,

your curiosity, your fragile sobriety,

your numb disbelief, your loneliness,

your exhaustion, your daily question: allergies, or the virus –

and, your joy – we can hold that too,

we can hold all of it here, for this time -

and bless it,

here we will call each other,

just as we are,

beloved.

Here in this far apart space

that is also close in,

so much remains uncertain

with each passing breath

the ground is shifting,

all we can say for sure

is that we are caught

in this tangled blessing of life

of grief and gratitude,

together –

like always, except more –

with all the forces of Spring

and the spinning of the earth

we are turning, and becoming,

and beginning again –

offering ourselves like the crocus flower

breaking through with a

wild beauty

ready for whatever comes

next …

Sermon – ‘Time Has Changed’

Hello friends, it’s lovely to see all of your faces this morning. 

We are moving into Week 4 of this new reality. Like many of you, I’ve been spending hours and hours online these past few weeks: in Zoom meetings, reading news articles, scrolling through social media, watching all of the crazy videos that people are posting across the world, reading more news articles. It has placed a strain on my eyes and my spirit to have had this much screen time. 

As I’m sure you can relate, a lot of my screentime is driven by my own fears about the pandemic. I think that if I read another article, I’ll find the answers I’m looking for. I’ll find something that tells me things are getting better, that the curve is flattening, that we’re on our way out of this terrible crisis. It feels like a second job, this online time. If I’m not careful, the days slip away fast when I don’t regulate my screen time.   

What’s funny to me is that just a few weeks ago, I likely would have complained about my schedule and said “Gosh, I’m so busy, I just wish I had more time. Time to read or learn a new skill – if I had more time at home I would do a lot of things.” How many of you would have said something similar? 

And now, for me, there is more time – so much of it that it has almost ceased to have meaning. I ask myself questions like What is time, anymore? What day is it? Did I talk to my parents yesterday, or was it the day before? Just how long have I been wearing these pants?  These are all questions I never had to ask before.

Friends, time has changed. We are now living in what’s called liminal space. The word liminal comes from the Latin word “limen” (pron LY-man) which means “threshold.” Liminal space exists as a time between what was and what is coming next, like the summer between high school and college, or the transition from marriage to divorce.

The Catholic monk and theologian Richard Rohr describes liminal space as “…a unique spiritual position where human beings hate to be. It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else. It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer.”

Liminal space can feel unsettling and scary, and for good reason. It’s really hard to feel safe when the ground seems to be shifting underneath you, when you have lost a way of being and can’t see the shape of what lies ahead. Losing our schedules, losing our access to friends and our community is very unsettling. And if those losses are coupled with illness, job loss and the other challenges of life, it can be really frightening. 

That said, liminal space can also feel freeing sometimes. Many artists describe their most creative moments as times of liminal space, between the artistic inspiration and the tangible result. New ideas are often born in times of liminal space because the disruption of norms can make room for creativity and innovation. 

So, in this time of liminal space, some of us are still working. Those still working outside the home, especially our health care workers, are having to face this reality far more directly than the rest of us. For those of you in our community doing this work, I hope and pray you know how grateful we all are for your work. 

Some are working from home, filling our hours with Zoom meetings and email.  Some of us are working from home and taking care of our families, learning how to home school our kids. 

Some of us have had to face job loss, illness and perhaps even the loss of loved ones. The toll this crisis is taking on our collective mental health – especially for those facing these kinds of struggles, cannot be underestimated.   

Wherever you are in this crisis, you are no doubt trying to find ways to try to cope with the anxiety of this difficult time. Maybe you are jumping into action by taking on home renovation projects, or learning new skills. 

Maybe you are slowing down: reading those books you never got around to and taking long walks at a safe distance from others. 

Maybe you are like me, and wish that you could say you were actually doing all those productive things. But outside of doing work and keeping in touch with your loved ones, you’re actually just watching lots of Netflix, eating snacks, and going for sporadic walks outside. 

Maybe you are collapsing at the end of the day because working from home and taking care of your kids literally takes every ounce of your energy. 

However you’re coping with this crisis, today I want to tell you: you’re doing great. 

Yes, you are. You. Are. Killing. it. 

Because we are facing a time that none of us has ever seen before. We don’t know what tomorrow will hold, we didn’t know what today was going to look like – but we’re here. We’re alive, we’re surviving somehow. 

Time has changed. Therefore, I think how we measure time should change too. And the judgments we place on ourselves about how we respond need radical transformation:

·      If you are struggling to get out of bed before 10am or noon, I see you. 

·      If you can only manage to feed your kids and not teach them any school work every single day, I applaud you. 

·      If your waistline is expanding because you’re eating all the snacks and none of the vegetables in your fridge, I offer you a high five. 

·      If you went out and bought all the supplies for that home improvement project three weeks ago, and those supplies are still sitting in a pile in your garage, you get a gold star. 

·      If you’re struggling, and you’re scared, and think you’ll never find your way out of this dark place, I offer you a big virtual hug. Because we are your community, we love you and we are all with you.  

My dear friends, you are not your productivity. You are not your ability to cope with the anxiety, fear and stress of this chaotic time. You are not your exercise regimen, your to-do list, or your positive attitude. 

Your identity and your worth far exceed any kind of measurement or judgment that you or anyone else might place on you these days. We are in the in-between. The normal rules just don’t apply here; they can’t because the world has changed its shape around us. 

This crisis will irrevocably change the course of our way of life – for good and bad, but in all ways still completely unknown. 

So, take a moment to breathe deeply and forgive yourself for whatever it is that you think you’re failing at. Because you’re not failing, you’re surviving. 

Give yourself a break for not measuring up to some kind of imaginary pandemic productivity standard. Embrace the reality of not wanting to do work, of being tired, of lacking purpose. 

Listen to your anger, your too-frequent tears, your boredom, your listlessness. They are telling you that time has changed, and that you don’t know yet how to respond, and that is totally okay. 

Forgive yourself for everything, every single day. And while you’re at it, forgive those around you for all of the same things. Because we are all in this struggle friends; and none of us has a map. 

The wise and wonderful Pema Chodron says “Having compassion starts and ends with having compassion for all those unwanted parts of ourselves. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

In this time of liminal space, when we don’t know what threshold we are crossing, maybe we can let go of the expectations we are carrying that only serve to bring us grief and anxiety. Because doing so allows your soul to breathe. It makes space for you to feel compassion for others, and yourself. It lets in the light of grace. And, most importantly, it will help us cross this threshold together. May it be so, amen.