It is a blessing to be. It is a blessing to be here. It is a blessing to be here together.” It is a blessing to be. For about a decade this sense has grown in me, supported by members of this church like Linda Scharf, musicians, and many friends who remind us that it’s good to be. Over the last two years we have had many challenging moments together. It would be fair to say that we are still in a challenging moment. And it would be reasonable to think that it is likely we will have future challenges. It seems that this might mean that “to be” would not be our automatic response to such challenges. I remember early on in the pandemic how it felt to be in this pulpit with completely empty pews, with only myself and Tim Raridon in the building, and “to be” felt very different. But a fascinating thing started to happen over those months which I didn’t expect. It helped me to pay closer attention to the details. I learned it was just as important how I showed up in my chair as it was in the pulpit. I learned with the precariousness of technology the ability to focus on what I could control, and what I could not in that moment.

I learned that most of the circumstances of any given moment are not under my control whatsoever, but that I like you had my part to play, and each of our parts is important. I remember during Christmas Eve service which was completely virtual that 10 minutes before the service began we lost internet connection at the church. I remember texting with Andy wondering if we could start the service or not. I was fully expecting we would have to delay the service a bit, but then the internet connection came back, two mins until our original start time. And we were ready, ready and yet always at the mercy of the unforeseen. I began to appreciate that this is always true. I just never acknowledged it before. We each have a way to be in this moment. We each have a part to play, and if we’re fully here, we put ourselves at the mercy of the unforeseen over and over again. I learned that this is a very valuable thing to get used to, and it leads to a kind of liberation.

I learned that when I accept I’m at the mercy of the unforeseen, life becomes vivid, details become beautiful. I notice the sky more. I notice the smell of a room, the feeling of walking up stairs. Alone, any of these don’t seem like much, but together, it creates a full moment, it creates a life. A life that is willing to surrender again and again to the unforeseen.

It is a blessing to be here. I once met an older gentleman in a longterm care facility, and asked him how he was: He said he was glad to be here. And then he chuckled, and said “At this point I’m glad to be anywhere.” That always stuck with me. Here is always changing, even though it might have some of the same qualities. To be here might be to be here at one point in one set of circumstances, and then months later, a complete other set of circumstances. Each of us knows this now intimately. To be able to practice living that is a blessing to be here, when what is here now, will be different, is a deep practice. It’s a deep practice to allow ourselves to feel the shifts and difference, and yet still express it’s a blessing.

I know some of you were here for my ordination. During it, we read my favorite biblical story: Jacob who wrestles a mysterious force: God, angel, an unknown man, with the hope of receiving a blessing. To bless is to acknowledge someone or something as sacred, to express a moment, a person, a situation, a place as valuable, infinitely valuable. I like the story of Jacob’s wrestling because I think we all know what it’s like to seek something infinitely valuable. Many of us are convinced it will be somewhere else, or in someone else, or in a different situation, or in a situation that once was. I think many of us can relate to wrestling, to contorting ourselves, even when it’s harmful to get something or some situation that we think would make life worthwhile. According to the story, this mysterious force eventually gives up due to Jacob’s perseverance and blesses him, in the darkness, when Jacob has lost his senses: lost his sense of where he is and who he is. I find wisdom in that story. We lose ourselves and we are found.

If we think we know ourselves, we might be depriving ourselves of the depth and breadth of truly being here. Another thing I like about the story is that Jacob is blessed in the place he wrestled. He didn’t go somewhere else, or get beamed to heaven. No, his place in the wilderness, in the darkness, it was a blessing to be there. It is a blessing to be here. More than once you’ve probably heard me say that Youngstown is one of the best cities in the world. Why do I say that? Simple. Because it’s a blessing to be here. The problems we have here are opportunities for love and connection. And we have abundant problems, which means we have abundant opportunities. It’s a blessing to be here. If God were anywhere, God would be in this place. I have no doubt about that.

It’s a blessing to be here together. That’s where the magic happens. That’s when love, connection, God, whatever word you choose becomes real. And this happens not through any special ritual or practice. It happens through the yearning each of us has to be in a relationship.

That yearning has led to a multiplatform world, where nearly everyone in all circumstances can be connected. We have done our part as a church to make the internet accessible to those who still need it or can’t afford it. If that’s still true for anyone you know, let us know. And we are now growing more at ease with being with one another in person. That’s been a relief for me. I recognize that now when I see someone in person, it feels special. It was always special, but I guess I took it for granted. Now when I see someone in person, when you can share the same space, and see how both of your bodies and minds respond to the same space – it’s actually amazing. And we know deep in our history that this has always been amazing: it’s a blessing to be together in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. I think there is some truth that when we come together our sorrows are cut in half and our joys are doubled. We feel that we don’t need to carry the world alone, in fact we never were.

One of the most important ways of expressing the blessing of being together is sharing food together. Sharing coffee, sharing treats, sharing potluck dishes, sharing stories with our friends online. I think the main goal of a worship service is to prep us for coffee hour, for being together, for sharing food and presence together. That’s the main event. It’s completely ordinary and transformative. I don’t think there is any place quite like a church for all its faults. I know of no other place left in our culture that welcomes you in from womb to tomb, encouraging you to care about people who are not your friends or family, to take time to just be a human being who has both innumerable problems and innumerable opportunities for love and connection. When I actually take a step back to think about it: it is very strange and wonderful. I can show up here just as a human being, yes in the role of minister, but as a human being. As much as our society shapes us, our view can expand if we let it by being in this space either in person or virtually.

What if our sense of worth was not derived by how much money we’ve accumulated, or how smart we are, or even how respectable we are. What if the source of our worth comes simply because we’re alive, from realizing that to be is a blessing. And from there to realize it is a blessing to be here, in the place we already are. What if we actually quit trying to manage our life to try to protect ourselves from being at the mercy of the unforeseen, and instead allowed ourselves with support to lean into it, to lean into this moment, to feel the support that comes naturally just through being together. It sounds simple and it is. What kind of world would that be? I’ll tell you. The world we already have. What a blessing. What a joy. What a relief. This will be the last service we’ll have in this sanctuary until after Labor Day. Savor this experience, and when we’re downstairs, savor that too. I really feel the blessing of being together: all of you make this a place a blessing in small and great ways.