Halloween. All Saints Day. All Souls Day. This is the season when we humans have always sensed that the world of the spirit, or the spirits, is most closely aligned with our world. This is a time when the boundary between the living and the dead seems thinnest, most permeable. The Day of the Dead is celebrated tomorrow.

Among us there are many beliefs about what happens when we die. Our liberal religious tradition makes no promises. I am content to let that mystery remain mystery. But even if we do not believe that we will ever come face to face with our ancestors, or hear their wisdom directly, our debt to them is undeniable.

In my family, respect for elders and for ancestors is a given. Despite vast cultural diversity, communities of color seem to share that respect and honor for those who have gone before. And, at least traditionally, there has also been less fear of death or of the dead. To this day, I find cemeteries welcoming places. One of the great sacrifices our very individualistic culture demands is the requirement that we see ourselves as solo actors rather than standing on the shoulders of our ancestors.

The honoring of the dead and our debt to them feels so very appropriate this week. The massacre at the Pittsburgh synagogue, the two latest Black deaths in Kentucky and the multiple pipe bombs sent to public figures seemed to bring death front and center for us. The boundary between life and death can be as thin as the action by one hate filled individual.

As religious people we are called to hold all of this. We are called not to turn our face away from the violence, but to turn toward accountability and the transformation that can open the possibility for love. Take a moment now, or find another time this week when you can be still. Breathe and be present to the truth of both the violence and the urgency of hope. Be present to both. Allow both to be present to you. And feel the care you can bring, that you are bringing, even in the face of despair.

I believe what we are confronting is not the problem of one individual or even a few. We are witnessing a culture nearing what feels like collapse. Perhaps that language is too dramatic. Perhaps. What is true is that even the pretense of accountability and the performance of empathy are absent in our national leaders. The priority for local action and the many ways we can build Beloved Community closer to home feel more and more urgent.

There has always been hatred and always been violence in this land. The pursuit of happiness has always been limited and not extended to us all. I know that. But it has been a long time since we have had national leadership that has promoted such divisiveness.

We need to remember and to celebrate those who have gone before. And we need to remember the hope and the dogged refusal to allow despair to keep them from keeping on. We need to find gratitude even for the most complicated of our ancestors. For better or for worse, they made our lives possible.

As we remember the stories of their persistence, I hope that we can be inspired to discover our own dogged refusal to accept that the way things are is the way things have to be. And I hope we remember that there is no more important spiritual work than the sustaining of honesty and hope.

Sunday evening, at 7PM, join us in Eliot Chapel for our second annual Vespers Requiem. It will be a time to name those who have died in our community and to mourn the many deaths to which we are called to bear witness. There will be candles to be lit. The Unitarian Choir will be there to nurture our spirits.

Next Tuesday, from 5-9PM, the church will be open as we hear the election results. There will be a short service in Eliot Chapel at 6. Bring snacks to share in the Buchan Reception until 9PM. The life of the world goes on.

I hope these days and this season, when mortality looks us in the eye, can be a time for us to center and recommit to building Beloved Community, a time to prepare ourselves before we hear the election results on Tuesday night.

Blessings,

Bill