So I just got finished with another Zoom meeting. This one was not with a group from the Fellowship, but another group that I’m part of—my men’s group in Lansing. Tonight was my turn to be the leader. And as the meeting was ending, I asked everyone to pause and recognize the feeling of support and connection between the nine men on the call. But there is a simpler way to say it, and it applies to all of us these days.
 
Can you feel the love?
 
This is our challenge in these days of distance and isolation and masks. I believe that when we are in our normal mode, seeing one another, shaking hands, seeing one another’s faces, perhaps even hugging, it is easier to feel the energy between us. The connection. I believe that humans want and need to be connected, and that when we are interacting we are feeling that connection, that affinity, that sense of togetherness, that affirmation that we are not alone. My shorthand word for that is love.
 
But it’s harder to focus on that connection when we are not physically together. I grew up in the era of telephones—real old-school telephones with a spiral cord attached to the wall. Talking on the phone, there was a way to focus on the voice and the connection with a loved one through their voice—but you had to concentrate. I think that today we have to re-learn that every day, and learn it in a new way. How do we focus our attention on a Zoom video call? How do we focus our attention in a text message interaction or an email interaction?
 
How can we feel the love when we are socially distanced?
 
I believe that we can do this, with intention and faith. Yesterday, for instance, I was watching a recorded yoga instruction video. “I love you all so much,” said the yoga teacher in the video. And I felt the love. It was real.
 
I will use the word magic here, which means that something is happening that’s hard to understand scientifically. By the magic of the spirit, we can feel love between each other through video, through text, through Zoom, through the phone. It’s not as easy as it is when sitting with someone and looking at them face to face, but we can do it. We must do it, because we need to know that we are loved in order to survive and to thrive during this pandemic and into the future.
 
Through the words in this message, I’m sending love to you. I invite you to find the place in yourself to receive that love—not in your thinking mind, but in your spirit. May you feel this love, freely given, and be blessed by it.
 
Prayer:
Spirit of Life and Love, we need you now. We are apart from one another and it’s harder to feel the love between us.
 
Blessed spirit, help us to see with our hearts. Help us to know that we are not alone—that friends and family love us, that others in this congregation love us, that people of good will around the world are connecting to the love within themselves to share it with others.
 
Mother Earth, help us be grounded in love. As we touch the earth, may we feel the connection to every human being also touching the earth.
 
Father Sky, carry our love between us, faster than telephone wires and truer than internet signals.
 
May all know that they are loved. May no one feel alone. May all be blessed.
 
Amen. Aho. Blessed be.
 
Andrew Frantz

It’s been nine weeks now—nine Sundays—since we started doing worship services on Zoom instead of in person. I’ve noticed that some new people are coming to these services: some who tell me that they live here and they have been interested in our Fellowship for a while; some who are friends and family of established members (including some from out of state and even from abroad). And, I’ve noticed that some people aren’t showing up on the Zoom calls who used to be here in person regularly. In the life of any congregation people come and go, but this is a unique situation. In some ways, it’s easier to come to worship on Sunday morning. You don’t have to drive anywhere…you don’t even have to finish your breakfast! You can join the Zoom call and listen and participate—if you have a computer with internet or a smart phone. In some ways, then, it’s harder to come to worship now that it’s on Zoom.

On the news lately I’ve been hearing more about the unequal toll that this disease is taking on people of color and lower income people. I think of it as a white collar / blue collar split: in America today, many of us with white collar jobs are working from home and are able to get deliveries and not go out very much. And those with blue collar jobs are going to work every day—in grocery stores, big box stores, fast food restaurants, warehouse and delivery jobs. I might get stressed about a 1-hour trip to the store and the exposure to strangers and their germs…and for the workers in that store, that’s their reality 40 hours per week.

I’m suggesting that there’s a parallel between what’s true in our Fellowship and what’s true in this nation. Those of lesser means may have a harder time connecting to our Zoom services, while those with the luxury of a secure home with good technology have an easier time. What can we do to include more people, to not lose touch with the members and friends who were with us in person but aren’t with us on Zoom? Meanwhile, those of lesser means in our city, in our state, and in our country are at greater risk every day because they have to be interacting with people in order to make a living, while those with the luxury of a work-from-home job can shelter in place more safely. What can we do to decrease the health risk gap between rich and poor, through our individual actions and through public policy?

What’s true for us in the microcosm of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Central Michigan is true in the society at large. We are called by our UU faith, by our conscience and our moral principles, to address social, health, and economic inequality wherever we find it.

Prayer:
Spirit of life and love, may we be reminded in this pandemic which separates us that we are all one human family.
 
May I be aware of my privilege. May I not take it for granted. May I work toward a more just and equitable society—and toward a more inclusive and loving congregation.

May it be so.

Andrew Frantz
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“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
       ~ Frederick Beuchner
 
This quotation sits on an index card on my altar in my office at home. Next to it are photos of loved ones, sacred objects, a candle, and a bell. This little spot has become more important to me since I’m spending so much of my time here and not in the Fellowship building. The quotation seems appropriate now since the spring weather—flowers and trees leafing and blossoming—is balanced by the creeping realization that this coronavirus is not going away soon.
 
Beautiful things will happen in this life. I interact with people I love. I witness joy and compassion and support in this Fellowship among all of you. We plant flowers in a garden bed that was empty.
 
Yet terrible things are happening too. The coronavirus is plateauing rather than spiking and receding. The government and the health care system are inadequate to deal with the virus comprehensively. We seem to be ill equipped as a society to grapple with a pandemic of this scale and of this duration. The consequence of this seems to be, as best I can guess at this point, that the contagion will be here in waves for months to come. I was resigned to spending the month of April in isolation, but this week I have had to come to terms with doing the same for May. After that, who knows? But I’m beginning to glimpse further months of social distancing with little change. I’m beginning to glimpse a future where human contact is wary and scarce, at least for a while. The idea of returning to normal is not realistic.
 
Beautiful and terrible things will happen, Frederick Beuchner reminds us. And he says: “Don’t be afraid.” This is the saving thought for me right now. After all, we know that this thing we call human life has this bargain built into it: there will be joy and sadness. People are loving, kind, generous—and they can be cruel. We love and enjoy life—and we will surely lose it. But the wisdom I am clinging to today is not to be afraid. If we can embrace the challenge of this moment, we can experience the joy and beauty of this spring—even with necessary caution. If we are not afraid, we can be together (at medium distance with masks on, or by telephone and video) and share life’s joy together.
 
Yesterday I took a risk and brought my cello outside to practice. I sat by my front door in the driveway shared by the other residents of this duplex. After playing for a few minutes my neighbor came out to say how much he appreciated it. “Keep going, man!” he encouraged me.
 
May we all keep going.
 
Prayer:
Spirit of life and love, be here now and fill the hearts of all who hear this prayer with hope.
 
May we face our fear and live life regardless. May we embrace joy and beauty as it comes. May we share greetings and friendship with our neighbors. May we find new ways to congregate by video conference and by social distancing and by agreeing to wear masks. Let us not be afraid of one another.
 
Spirit of life and love, grant us resolve to do the right thing in our social distancing, though we are weary of it already and though we don’t know how long it will last. Grant us patience and remind us that we are doing this for each other, for our elders, and for our more vulnerable brothers, sisters, siblings, cousins.
 
May all be well, and may all know peace. May it be so.
 
Andrew Frantz