Sometimes insight can come from the most unexpected of sources, as the Rev. Joshua Pawelek found when he explored the work of Harvard professor and psychologist Tal Ben-Shahar, whose best-selling book is titled Happier. Rev. Pawelek discovered a resonance with his own vision of Unitarian Universalism in what he had dismissed as mere pop-psychology, exploring the idea of being joyfully determined in the way we live our spiritual lives.

You can also find an essay by Rev. Pawelek, who serves the Unitarian Universalist Society: East in Manchester, Connecticut, in the just-released Reverend X: How Generation X Ministers are Shaping Unitarian Universalism, from the Jenkin Lloyd Jones Press.

To Be Joyfully Determined

by the Rev. Joshua Mason Pawelek

Recall a time when things weren’t going well for you, when you didn’t feel quite right, didn’t feel quite like yourself; a time when you couldn’t hear the still, small voice, or when its song was faint; a time when there was some emotional or mental dissonance in your life; a time when you felt disconnected, depressed, anxious, weak, subdued, out-of-whack, broken; a time when your sense of purpose and meaning waned, and you sought help. You sought help from a therapist—a psychologist or a psychiatrist or some other mental health professional; or you talked to a social worker or school guidance counselor. Maybe you attended a twelve-step group, or an affinity group for bereavement, divorce, cancer. Maybe you talked to a minister, priest or rabbi; maybe your doctor. Maybe you turned to a self-help book or a friend you could trust to give good advice. I assume most of you have been in this situation at some point: you’ve sought help when something didn’t feel quite right.

Put that memory aside and recall a time when things were going great, when you felt exactly like yourself; a time when you could hear the beautiful, compelling still, small voice melody; a time when you felt emotionally and mentally healthy; a time when you felt joyful, happy, inspired, powerful, whole; a time when you had a potent sense of purpose and meaning, and you sought help. You said to yourself, “Wow, I feel so good I need help immediately! I need help to figure out what I’m doing right so I can keep doing it; so I can do it more, do it better.” We’ve all had that experience too, right? No, we haven’t. My guess is there are few people to whom that thought occurs. We don’t typically approach our lives this way. At least in the United States, it’s fair to say we spend an awful lot of time and energy looking at what’s wrong with us, what our diseases are, what our weaknesses are, how to overcome them. We don’t spend as much time and energy looking at what’s already right with us, what gives us joy and fulfillment, what our gifts are and how to use them well. To the extent I understand it, focusing on what’s right is the essence of Positive Psychology.

(Read on … )

The International Council of Unitarian Universalists publishes a reading for the lighting of the chalice every month, with the intention that all of our congregations across the globe have the opportunity to come together for worship with a common focus.

The Global Chalice Lighting for May came from France, submitted by Jean-Claude Barbier.

Global Chalice Lighting, May 2008

English

Hallelujah for the chalice which contains the wine, which contains our lives
Hallelujah for the flame which rises with our prayers, with our hopes
Let us give thanks to God, to the divine Breath, to the Matrix that is the source of the life.
Let us give thanks for this Creation given and received.
Thanks to rabbi Jesus of Nazareth and all the wise ones of our Humanity,
of all the religions, all wisdoms, all philosophies.
Thanks to the men and women of our History who built this world,
That we are present, by mutual agreement, together at the meeting-point of our worship.
That we are present, listening each other, helping each other, at the meeting-point of our worship.

French

Alléluia pour le calice qui contient le vin, qui contient nos vies.
Alléluia pour la flamme qui s’élève avec nos prières, avec nos espérances
Rendons grâce à Dieu, au Souffle du divin, au Matriciel source de la vie.
Rendons grâce pour cette Création donnée et reçue.
Merci au rabbi Jésus de Nazareth et à tous les sages de notre Humanité,
de toutes les religions, de toutes les sagesses, de toutes les philosophies.
Merci aux hommes et aux femmes de notre Histoire qui ont construit ce monde.
Que nous soyons présents, d’un commun accord, les uns avec les autres, au rendez-vous de notre culte.
Que nous soyons présents, avec écoute mutuelle, les uns pour les autres, au rendez-vous de notre culte.

Source: The International Council of Unitarian Universalists’ Global Chalice Lighting for May, 2008, submitted by Jean-Claude Barbier from the Assemblée Fraternelle des Chrétiens Unitariens.

There’s a chill in the air in the mornings now, as we go deeper into September. And though I have not been able to have a garden in years, this time in early fall always brings to mind, for me, that last session of weeding, before pulling up the last of the harvest, the last few weeks of a farmer’s market, filled with squash and gourds, and soon, pumpkins. There’s something about growing food for your own table, or meeting the person who grew it for you.

From Rev. Max Coots, minister emeritus of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Canton, New York:

Gratitude for the Garden

by Rev. Max Coots

I am finished with my garden for the year—almost. Oh, I’m still playing that game of hide-and-seek with the inevitable frost. Every night, when the temperature counts down to begin the game, I do run out to help the last tomatoes hide.

It was a good year, more or less—more for the snow peas than for the corn, less for the spinach, more for the rest. The turnips were immense, like spheres of opulence, though the radishes went more to maggots than to me. My potatoes remind me of that old country quip: “How’d your padadas do?” “So-so. I got some the size a beans, I got some the size a peas, and then I got a lotta little ones.”

But it was a good year, more or less. Most everything that missed the drought, overcame the weeds, and survived the bugs got home safe enough. From time to time I can go to the freezer and the shelf of jars in my cellar and count my canned contentment. The harvest will be an attitude, not a time of year. And maybe I’ll be wise enough to feel a sort of litany of gratitude:

(Read on … )