Have you seen those mini-libraries on the side of the road? They often have books in them and the concept is that you can take a book if one looks good, but also you can leave a book if you have one to donate.

I sometimes think of generosity the same way. Especially when I give something of myself and someone responds "I owe you one" or "I'll pay you back soon." I figure I did something generous for that person and there's no expectation that they reciprocate to me personally. But, I do have the hope that at some moment, when that person has a chance to be generous and they can do so, they take that chance. It's like the mini-libraries: when you need generosity, accept it. When you have a chance to offer generosity and you can do so, do it.

The difference between the mini-book library and the giving of our generosity is relationship. When we place a book into a mini library, we put whatever we have to give hoping that someone will find it useful. When we offer generosity as opportunities arrive, we have the chance to more deeply understand what someone actually needs and make an offer of support based in that need. This is sometimes called the “Platinum Rule” as opposed to the “Golden Rule”: instead of “treat others as you’d like to be treated” it’s “treat others as they would like to be treated.”

This is a more complicated way to give! It requires that you know an institution or an individual well enough to have some idea of what would be useful. Sometimes it requires more conversation and thought.

But sometimes it is more simple too. If we live into the relationships around us, we will find opportunities to give are often right in front of us. And if we would like to give more, that can be an invitation to build new relationships.

This morning, I sit and type in a Waffle House. Growing up, Waffle House was where my Grandma Jeanette and I would often go to breakfast when I was visiting her. I still remember the songs she would choose on the Waffle House jukebox! And the flavor of Waffle House pancakes is still very specifically delightful to my tastebuds. She was my favorite grandparent. We would go to shows together, sing together, and be creative together. I would visit her about two weekends a month and they were some of the happiest times of my childhood.

I also recall, as she neared her death, her relationship with my mother became much more contentious. Grandma Jeanette, my favorite grandparent, would say things to my mother that were so hostile, I don’t want to type them here. I witnessed the deep pain this brought up in my mother as these comments were often related to family complexities that my mother had never healed from.

Both of these truths about my Grandma Jeanette travel with me in thinking about the grief that her death brought to my life. In that grief, there has long been an understanding that one person can be complicated: both lovable and painful, and possibly a multitude of other experiences within their one personhood.

Indeed grief contains a multitude of possible understandings and inheritances as every type of grief is a bit different, each situation is different, the people involved are different, and we are different as we move through our lives. So I’ve asked some of our Pastoral Care Team to contribute some words about understandings, joys, and challenges that they have received as part of their grief journeys:

“[My loved ones who have died], I remember them always, the good and bad.”

In the past year or so, I have often reflected about the newness which we are welcoming into our lives, especially as we move forward from the most intense points of isolation connected to COVID-19. This week at ERUUF it was moving to two services each Sunday, a cause for much celebration! While there are many aspects of newness in all avenues of life over the past couple of years, ERUUF has felt quite celebratory in it’s welcome of the new in the short time I have been here. This has been a wonderful experience for me, as one part of my spiritual grounding is the idea (held in more than one spiritual tradition) that nothing about our world or experience truly stays the same. Everything is constantly shifting and changing, sometimes in the smallest of ways, and sometimes much more noticeably. This change is neither good nor bad on the whole. But I think it is healthy to celebrate that newness can bring joy and possibility.

And also, while I may believe change is always around us and in us…while I may believe that there is no truly going back to what is how it was…there is an importance to recognizing the warmth and joy of the familiar. ERUUF’s move to two services is both new and familiar. For many who have been here a while, it may bring some comfort to see that bit of familiar structure re-arrive! In the same way, familiar traditions such as the recent Ingathering and the upcoming Connections Fair provide us touchstones for our travels through the year as well as memories and reminiscence of why we have come to be where we are on our journey. The familiar can keep us connected to those pieces of our life that, while they may shift, are more persistent and grounding.

So, as we travel into this September, I hope for you a blend of newness and the familiar. May we see the old in the new, as well as the new in the old. May we take the opportunity to offer care and community to each other when the old and new enter each of our lives in challenging ways. And may we come together in celebration of aspects of both frequently and with vigor!

Growing up, my mother was always wary of January. She noticed that every year, she would be excited to prepare for and celebrate the December holidays. Then suddenly, when January arrived, all the excitement dissipated. We were left with cold, snowy landscapes and a strong dose of Missouri monotony.