Rev. Joseph Boyd
Time passes us by. We wake up, we drink our coffee, go to work, greet the day open with possibility. Even if retired we go to work, making sense of our past, discerning how to make the most of our present while our health is still reasonably good and we can experience joy – the sun on our faces, days at the beach along the coastline, hours in our home listening or trying to play music. We yearn to soak in this life and find some way to carve out some kind of meaning which passes us by moment after moment.
At a dinner a couple months ago, a group of couples in their 60’s and 70’s told me that they were amazed at how the years had passed so quickly. They could hardly believe it, hardly believed that they had been married for 40 years, that they had worked a job during their youth, that they had children, or decided not to so they could spend more time on their career and hobbies. It was incredible they said, how time passes by. When I heard this I was filled with fear, wondering if this would be my destiny.
Would I one day be sitting around a table telling a younger man in amazement how time had passed by, how the years at times felt like one long, continuous dream that felt eternal while it was happening, but upon waking realized that it was brief and gone, never to return again, at least not in the same way.
Time passes us by when we felt the audacity of hope or at least were introduced to the possibility. Time doesn’t stop as we wonder if we can make America great again or perhaps for the first time, in ways beyond our forefathers imagining. We hear Alexander Hamilton rapping to us about the need for checks and balances, and how maybe an immigrant, the son of a prostitute can create a new life in a New world, open to all God’s children. We listen intently as time passes us by, and we wonder where it’s going. Where is it taking us? Which way will it pass and who will is pass by next?
For me these are religious questions – questions without a definitive answer, questions that if we turn away from will go untouched as time most certainly passes us by. Time is passing by me in this moment as I stand up here for the first time before you. Time is passing by you right now. Time is passing us by as we bid Reverend Matt farewell. And I don’t sense anyone feels morose about this fact.
And for good reason – we as a church community are not interested in simply witnessing time passing us by. We are here to mark the passage of time, to revere it, so that we may humbly engage it with every ounce of our being, knowing that time is a gift, a precious gift. Ministry is about deciding how we will mark time as it passes us by.
We mark time today not just for Reverend Matt and Liz, we mark time this morning for all of us…each of you that has participated in shared ministry these last 8 years, those who are heeding the demands of our time, and are daring enough to feel encouraged by difficulty instead of defeated by it. This is a vital and daring congregation – I can feel it. I can feel your commitment and warmth, and I see your possibility. It is not my possibility, it is ours. You have been living into this possibility long before I arrived with Matt’s guidance and encouragement, and you are living into it right now as I’m just getting settled in as your new minister. I want to live into this possibility with you.
As were preparing this service, Matt said something very wise in his quiet, unassuming way. He said to me: “Ministers come and go, but the church remains.”
Some of you have come up to me in coffee hour and told me how many ministers you have seen in your time. One of you told me “I’ve seen many ministers in my time, and I’m not here for the minister, I’m here for the principles.” That’s my kind of church. There’s a reason the church remains. It’s because of you, all of you who show up early on Sunday mornings to set up chairs so we can have a place to sit, those of you who climb rickety ladders to clean gutters, those that stay 15 minutes longer than you expected so we can more effectively serve our community. The church remains because you have come to mark time with your love as it passes you by.
There is nothing else I’d rather do with my time…I can’t think of anything more true, more human, more noble than coming together like this to mark time. Sometimes the way we mark time is invisible, private, not public or showy. We can make the grave mistake of thinking that our private lives, our lives when few if any one is watching are insignificant and devoid of any great meaning or purpose. This is one of the harshest forms of poverty, a poverty of the spirit, a lack of any sense of contribution or worthiness.
In feeling the pressure to be useful in a particular prescribed way, we let our life pass us by, resisting the life that is giving shape to our days. We may judge it, even curse it. We may bounce from extremes, alternating between believing that our life is what we make of it, so why is our life so darned screwed up to the other extreme of thinking: What’s the point of being part of a church community like this anyways? It certainly won’t stop time from passing us by. And this is true. The church does not stop time. It can’t freeze it, and as of yet no great mind here has built a machine that can reverse time. And I don’t have special powers, the ability to predict the future or even prevent you from experiencing disappointment or hardship.
The church does have a secret power however…and it’s our job to share this secret. And the secret is this: Though time will most certainly pass you by, our life need not pass us by in vain. Together we can hold the complexity of this moment in a loving embrace, and open ourselves to the most natural of human responses – awe and gratitude.
Reverend Matt and Liz, I can see in my brief time here that you have fed and nourished one of the greatest poverties of our time – the poverty of the human spirit.
You have given me and this community many gifts including bookshelves and writing advice. But more than that, you have given this community the greatest gift that any of us could hope to receive. You’ve given us your attention, and kind, steady presence. Matt you have shown this community that each one of us has a unique role to play in this shared ministry. You have shared your passion and your own personal growth. You’ve shared with me advice on where to get excellent beers, and you’ve shared excitement about the future of UUYO, and the future this church may help create in our city of Youngstown. Liz you’ve reminded me that there is nothing more sacred than our stories, and you have committed yourselves to marking these stories, making sure they are beautifully written down and never lost.
To the church, it is my great pleasure to mark this sacred moment in time with you, this passing of the torch. Ministers come and go, this is true, but few are like Rev. Matt and LIz. All of us knew this transition would happen, time waiting to pass us by. But it has not passed us by completely. Not yet. It is here now. Let us mark it with our love.
Rev. Alspaugh and Rev. Boyd meet in the middle of the altar space.
Matt: “Rev Joseph Boyd, do you agree to lead the people of the Youngstown Unitarian Universalist Church and to honor our covenant?”
Joseph: “Yes! I joyfully accept the responsibility to guide, to challenge, and to support the members of this church in accordance with UU principles and the covenant of this church.”
Matt: “Rev. Joseph Boyd, today, as I hand over to you the keys to this building, I entrust you with the welfare of this church and care of its people.”
Hand over the Keys.
Rev. Boyd extends his hand.
Matt, Put the keys in his hand. Allow his hand to close. Hold his hand in both of yours, the way some people will shake hands. This should be done almost chest high, so people can see.
Take time with this. Allow this to be a meaningful moment.
If nothing else, it is a great photo op!, and thus, a wonderful memory.
Give him your blessing in whatever words are meaningful to you. In another Church it might be: “Go in the Peace of Christ.” “Allah be Praised.” “Mazel Tov. “Walk forever in the Light.”
“Welcome to the Youngstown Unitarian Universalist Church!”