Portland, Oregon feels far away. The events unfolding there feel foreign and unreal. However, it is vital that we remain connected, that we pay attention, and that we speak up for justice. What is happening in Portland could soon happen in Chicago or Detroit.
 
I’ve lived here in Mount Pleasant for almost a year now. I’m starting to get a sense of this community…its rhythms and its relationship to the wider world. Because of our location, we can feel isolated. Yes, major U.S. cities like Detroit and Chicago are a few hours away by car—but a few hours north or west brings you to wilderness, forest, beaches, open water. This geographical fact of our location means that we can choose to orient either toward civilization or away from it. We have been blessed with relatively few cases of the coronavirus, and the counties north of us even fewer—but the Detroit area, and recently the Grand Rapids area, have been hot spots. Therefore we could be complacent or concerned, depending on which way we direct our gaze.
 
Locally, we had our moments of protest for Black Lives soon after the killing of George Floyd. The protests in Portland, which have continued since then, seem far away. But we should be paying attention to the deployment of federal police forces there, sparking further violence and unrest. We should be paying attention to the imminent expansion of those police tactics to other cities. This is a time unlike any other in this nation, a crisis of public health and of civil rights in the waning days of a presidency founded on racism. While we stay grounded in our central Michigan home, we must be connected to neighbors both nearby and far away. We must renew our vigilance and stay engaged.
 
Unitarian Universalism is a faith of action and engagement. It is a faith concerned more with this life than with what happens to us after this life is over. Our principles include the use of the democratic process; justice, equity and compassion in human relations; and peace. And our principles include spiritual growth.
 
I should, therefore, walk in the forest and enjoy the river in this place I call home; and I should support those protesting for racial justice and denounce those who are assaulting them anywhere in this nation I call my home. Both of these are in harmony with my religious principles.
 
Prayer:
Spirit of Life and Love, may the people of Boston, and of Miami, and of Mount Pleasant, and of Portland be united for love and justice. May all of us look within to find the instinct for loving our neighbor; for celebrating the freedom to be who we are in our beautiful diversity. May we nurture within us this fierce love that says everyone is worthy.
 
And may we, all people of good conscience, keep our eyes open to acts of evil, acts of fear, acts of violence, acts of hatred. May the strength within keep our sight clear so that we see when someone moves to harm our brothers, sisters, siblings, cousins. May the strength within give us courage to speak and to act to protect all who struggle for justice in the name of love.
 
May it be so, in my community and across this nation.
 
Aho. Amen. Blessed be.
 
Rev. Andrew Frantz

I have never worn a stole. I have one, but I’ve never worn it.
 
The stole is the colorful fabric—a bit like a scarf—that a minister wears over their robes. In the Unitarian Universalist tradition, only an ordained minister can wear one. Rev. Elaine Strawn, who was my supervisor during my two-year ministerial internship, gave me one of her stoles as a gift when I finished my internship. That was a little more than a year ago.
 
I have passed all the requirements to be a Unitarian Universalist minister. I finished three years of graduate theological training, including the internship I mentioned; and also 10 weeks of training as a hospital chaplain. I also passed an interview with a committee at the national headquarters to determine my readiness for ministry, which proved to be one of the most challenging parts of my preparation.
 
But in the Unitarian Universalist tradition, only a congregation can ordain me, allowing me to wear a stole and to take the title “reverend.” On Saturday, after the members of the UU Fellowship of Central Michigan, along with the Oberlin UU Fellowship from Ohio, speak the words, “we hereby ordain you,” I will be Reverend Drew. The committee in Boston couldn’t do that; the seminary couldn’t do that; Rev. Elaine couldn’t bestow that honor upon me. Only a UU congregation can ordain me.
 
I’ve been a member of a UU congregation for a long time, and I’ve only been part of one ordination. When a congregation ordains a minister, it means they are entrusting that person symbolically with the power of the faith. It is fitting that this power is granted only by a congregation in our faith, because we believe that the wisdom is in the congregation; the compassion is in the congregation; the passion for justice is in the congregation. A minister may embody or represent these things in a single person, but the depth of wisdom, compassion, and justice-seeking is in the congregation.
 
When the members of UUFCM speak those words to ordain a new minister, you will be stepping into a power that you may not have known that you had. You have the power to ordain, through your collective wisdom, compassion, and love.
 
Prayer:
Spirit of goodness and compassion within every human heart, hear this prayer. May the urge for goodness and compassion inform our actions today. Through the deep-seated love in each one of us, may we be moved to work for justice for all of us.
 
May love and goodness bless the collective spirit of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Central Michigan and of the Oberlin Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. May each congregation feel their power to bless, to act for good in the world.
May any minister ordained by these congregations feel the joyful and solemn weight of the call: to minister unto; to share joy and sorrow; to witness triumph and difficulty; to work alongside for the betterment of the whole world, with no exceptions.
 
May it be so, today and every day.
 
Amen.
 
Andrew Frantz

Sometimes I go walking at 11:00 at night or later. This is a pleasant time to be out during these hot summer days, and seeing the full moon on one of my walks this week was a special treat. The full moon this month corresponded with Independence Day, July 4.

I have always been fascinated with the motion of the Earth, the sun, and the moon. On the days of equinox and solstice I try to stand and face south and think about the relative position of the planets; where we are in the course of the year (Earth’s trip around the sun); where I am on the face of the Earth (northern hemisphere); how the Earth is tilted on its axis; and how I am travelling with the surface of the Earth as it spins daily, causing the sun to seem to rise and set.

I noticed that the full moon this month was lower in the sky. When I stopped to think about it, I was confused. Why isn’t the moon higher? We are just a couple of weeks past the summer solstice, when the sun is at its highest point for us here in the northern hemisphere. After looking up some very complex explanations on the internet, the best I can understand is that the moon’s orbit around the earth is in a slightly different plane from the earth’s orbit around the sun, accounting for its variable height in the sky.

Getting a different perspective is useful. Getting outside of my own worries is good. When I stop to think about my position on this earth, it helps me become aware that I am not at the center of the universe, but just one piece of it. Naturally we are conscious of the sun these days, dominating the summer sky and our awareness in a heat wave, but the moon has its own rhythm as well.

July 4th held a similar lesson for me: naturally I am conscious of this holiday. I was born and raised in this country; I have memories of picnics and fireworks from my whole lifetime. And this year my awareness goes in two other directions: first to other countries on earth, dealing with the coronavirus in their own way, many of them more successfully than my red, white and blue homeland; and second, to the two Americas that exist side by side. While white America celebrates the ideals of freedom, Black America reminds me that freedom under this flag has always been conditional. My perspective dominates my awareness, like seeing the sun in the sky and like being aware of white American culture. Like the moon that is there when I pause to notice it, another cultural perspective is visible to me when I take the time to understand it.

Prayer:
Spirit of the full moon, be with me now. Help me to know time in your rhythm. Help me to slow down and ponder my position on this spinning ball of Earth.
 
Sunlight illuminates, and moonlight reveals its own truth as well. May I be open to the visions of both.
 
May all beings be blessed by sunlight and moonlight; may we all know multiple truths and be open-minded enough to accept other perspectives.
Amen. Aho. Blessed Be.
 
Andrew Frantz