Rev. Joseph Boyd
I’ve been thinking of the phrase “delayed not denied” since I heard it during a sermon bringing the message of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to the present day given by Rev. Michael Harrison. It’s a popular phrase in many Christian churches, emphasizing that God’s promises of goodness for us may be delayed, but it won’t be denied. It’s a compelling thought, and it reminded me of the inauguration and of the time we are in now still in the middle of a pandemic waiting for it to end. It made me think of phrases like “the promised land,” and the inspiration for Amanda Gorman’s poem – the vision of “a city on a hill” made popular by Puritans who came to this country with religious fervor. It made me think of Dr. King during his last public address, telling America that he has seen the promised land with his vision and power of imagination, but that he may not get there with us. For those who know the Bible, they will understand that Dr. King was referring to a passage in the Hebrew Bible when Moses after many years of traveling in the desert toward the promised land stands atop a hill and witnesses the reality of the promised land with clarity of vision. At that moment of witnessing the promised land, the place he toiled and inspired people with his entire life, God tells him he will die and he won’t himself enter that promised land. In doing this, the text gives the reader the vision of the promised land that is their own inheritance, something that they have to live and realize within their own lifetime.

Amanda Gorman continues and renews that tradition in her own way with her inaugural poem “The Hill We Climb.” We as Americans are defined by one word: pursuit. We are always in pursuit, in motion, in activity, in hope toward something that may make us happy. With this comes an innate optimism that is taken for granted until you encounter a people that finds this orientation toward the world jarring and odd. But I too am an American, and this too seems to be part of my make up, my understanding of the world. There is an energy of pursuit inside me, the pursuit of justice, the pursuit of equality, the pursuit of a promised land where all are free and know they are loved. It is a wonderful part of our collective spirit that we believe deep down that the difficulties we face today are only temporary: there may be a delay, but we will not be denied happiness and fulfillment. I think it’s a wonderful quality actually.

It has been argued by many that we are addicted to pursuit. This is true even for our Unitarian Universalist churches. There is an old joke that Melissa Smith shared with me that if given a choice between heaven and a discussion on heaven, our members would always choose a discussion on heaven. I used to be critical of this tendency to always be pursuing something without realizing that it is already here, but I’ve softened a bit over the years, and my attitude has changed. I now see that a discussion about heaven is just as much heaven, if we can fully appreciate it. It is wonderful to be in pursuit of our dreams and imagination for a better world with each other. It’s a wonderful life, and in fact, I find it incredibly powerful, meaningful, and beautiful. Where I think it can get easy to slip, is if we forget that each and every one us is like Moses, like Dr. King, like all the people that our made possible: our greatest inheritance and our greatest gift to the world is our imagination, our vision, and none of us will enter it completely. All of us have the capacity to witness it, to truly embody it and inspire others in living their life to the fullest, but we are not meant to enter it. That is always for the next generation. Our only role is to prepare and pass on the hope of the ages that can sustain and inform the next generation. This is our greatest role, and if understood, our greatest joy and accomplishment. We are travelers to a destination we will never see, and this is how it’s supposed to me. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something we did wrong, and it’s not something that we could correct or change somehow. It is the price of a life in pursuit, and the price is really a gift: that the next generation can build upon our own discoveries and mistakes, and come into a fuller expression of who they are.

But I think we need to not fall into the opposite extreme. We should be wary of being too patient and moderate. If we comfortably enjoy endless delays to people discovering the beauty and depth of their personhood, we are in trouble. I’m personally not a big fan of peaceful acceptance in all circumstances. At times, I think impatience is necessary. Impatience exercised appropriately is just as virtuous as patient forbearance. Impatience reminds us that we have a role to play in all of this, and we shouldn’t just wait until our death so the next generation can deal with all the things we failed to act on. This is part of the American temperament, and I think it’s a good thing. Impatience – if it can be done today, do it today. But of course I’m saying that as an American, so I have skewed perspective. There is a price to delay, if there is something that can be done about it in our lifetime. The price is what we commonly call the status quo. The status quo is an illusion about reality that everything that is, must be this way for very smart reasons, and it probably will be impossible to change for very good, smart reasons. That kind of illusion is as deadly as any drug; any narcotic that poisons your mind and body. It’s a form of menticide, eating at the very spirit and intelligence of a person who shows some initiative in helping us fulfill our collective promise. It is literally deadly this illusion of reality. The status quo is a false reality, a limited imagination that keeps people feeling justified living smaller lives than they are capable of living. I’m more wary of this than any pandemic or any other kind of deadly disease. It is the number 1 killer in this nation – a belief that there are very good smart reasons why things are the way they are, and only foolish people would seek to do anything about it. That perspective in my estimation is a disease of the mind, and if we’re not careful, it will imprison us.

I think this is especially true now. We have the great advantage to have inherited the vision of this land being a place of possibility, with the added advantage of seeing how far away we are from realizing that possibility. At first glance, you might think these two realities may contradict each other, but I think they can inform and deepen each other. It may seem strange to say, but it should inspire us more. The chance for human transformation has never been more possible in all of human civilization as it has at this moment.

Many are wondering how this pandemic will change our human civilization in terms of how we relate to each other. Many ask this question with great trepidation. But I see how I think this time will change us, and for me it comes down to one word: connection. We are wired to connect to one another. We are wired to use any means necessary, every possible way available to connect to one another. We will do this in person, once it is safe to do so. We will connect to each other using all the technology we currently have, and all that I’m certain we will invent in the next twenty years. We will use our phones, our computers, internet, and social media. We will witness live encounters of connection and record them for ourselves and for others who couldn’t join us in that moment. We will connect every way we have available, and we will continue to invent new and more accessible ways for us to connect with each other. What this time has showed me is that what we think, do, and say has a direct impact not just on ourselves but on the entire world. I’ve mentioned this in the past in regard to contagious pathogens, but I want to go a step further this morning. Our thoughts, words, and intentions will also impact this world. We have seen how quickly fear and panic can reverberate through every form of communication imaginable. We’ve seen how quickly an uplifting inauguration can uplift the mood of people. We can see how one moment, one single moment, can impact people far and wide in ways that are direct, personal, and felt.  We have an incredible amount of power not just in our own lives, but over each other’s experience of life. Our hope literally becomes the world’s hope. Our fear easily becomes the world’s fear. One is not better than the other. Both experiences can be beneficial if we know how to work them out as a community supporting one another.

Amanda Gorman wrote in her inaugural poem:

“We seek harm to none and harmony for all.

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true,

that even as we grieved, we grew,

that even as we hurt, we hoped,

that even as we tired, we tried,

that we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.

Not because we will never again know defeat,

but because we will never again sow division.”

I really like that definition of victory. We will be victorious not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division. The Bible also says wisely that “we reap what we sow.” All the more reason to sow growth in the midst of grief, all the more reason to sow hope in the midst of hurt, all the more reason to try toward goodness even when we’re tired, all the more reason to realize that we are tied together in a single garment of destiny as a nation and as a globe.

So I wonder if that might inspire you. If you don’t feel hopeful, don’t worry about being hopeful for yourself. Be hopeful, because your hope will impact the entire globe. If you really don’t feel like growing too much, don’t worry about doing it for yourself. Grow, because the world needs to grow up. If you feel fearful and skeptical, that’s understandable and all of us feel that. But think for a second of what kind of world you want everyone including the next generation to live in. We can’t help feeling fear and skepticism, but we can help if we sow fear and division or if we choose to sow possibility and connection. That actually can be a choice. I’ll go a step further because I’ve experienced it firsthand myself. You can be fearful or anxiety ridden, angry or in a foul mood, and still sow possibility and connection. It is possible to commit ourselves to this. I’ve experienced it firsthand. We don’t ignore or pass over our fear and anxiety, but we can learn how to be gentle with ourselves and allow that experience to be there without literally infecting the world without our realizing it. It is important to respect the nightmare we experience, but it would be a mistake to assume that we have to live in a nightmare forever. We need a dream that respects the nightmare but is not completely overwhelmed by it. And my theory is this: that dream will not come from me. The dream won’t come from a single individual. If any dream is to have power in this day and age, it must be a collective dream, a collective imagining that we find is worth giving our living to. The price of delay is the nightmare we’ve witnessed over the past year, but now it’s time for a dream, a dream that respects and can utilize the nightmare for the deepening of our souls and for the health of our world. I think there is great power in seeing the last year not as a denial of our deepest held values, but as a delay. There is great power in seeing that we are in the promised land today that past generations lived and died for, and we are also not quite there yet. Our task is not to get there, but to point out where we might go beyond our pettiness, division, arrogance, and fear. A place that sees the nightmare as part of the fulfillment and realization of the dream.