SERMON: SEE YA LATER
Rev. John T. Crestwell, Jr.
March 27, 2022
What is a sabbatical? It is an old word but comes from a wise tradition that universities and religious congregations still honor. Sabbath from the Hebrew Bible means rest. It is the day some Jewish people say God rested after creating the world—the seventh day. In the biblical book of Leviticus, the word is mentioned again as a year of rest for those who labored in fields for seven years. Seven is a holy number in Judaism. Seven means completion or “heavenly rest”. Fortunately, Unitarian Universalist clergy don’t have to wait seven years for an extended break, we can sabbath every 4 years. By the way, the length of time for a sabbatical is one month per year served up to 6-months. I could have taken 6-months off but that did not feel right for me so I chose a 3-month sabbatical and one month of study leave. I’ll be away for 3 months sabbatical leave and one-month “on-call” in July slowly returning on August 1st.
This will be my first sabbatical! And I am overdue. I am excited and ready, and you are ready. The timing couldn’t be more right. For those of you who have been here for the last 6 years or more, you really know what I’m talking about. We’ve been through so much change and transition over the years. There really wasn’t space for me to take 3, 4, 5, or 6 months of sabbatical. As a congregation, we were always reacting to something important in the life of the church. Rev. Christina left in June 2017; Rev. Fred also retired that year in December. Then in June 2018, we were all traumatized over the sudden death of Wendi Winters. That was during the two-and-a-half-year interim ministry with Rev. Kathleen starting in 2018. Let us not forget that our longtime Business Administrator, Susan Eckert, also retired in 2018. Then in March 2019, the pandemic hit us. That did not slow our progress. We also went in to search for a minister of equal standing. We welcomed Rev. Anastassia in May of 2020. That is a lot of transition! I needed to be your rock. I needed to represent stability in transient times. That I have done.
Now, nearly two years into this new ministry with Rev. Anastassia, I feel the time is right for me to take a sabbatical. You will have an experienced minister and executive leading you who is super smart, compassionate (our theme this month); she’s full of integrity, honesty, caring, and full of positivity. She loves children and youth and has many creative ways of growing our souls and our membership. Get to know her more during my time away. Because of her awesomeness, I know I can depart with peace in my heart that you have another rock to hold on to.
I will miss you, Anastassia. You make me better. You affirm my humanity and always remind me that I am awesome too 😊. I will miss your dry humor and especially how I can’t always tell if you’re serious or playing 😊. I will miss your good memory (the memory of an elephant—amazing). I will miss your stories—you’re such a good storyteller—and I will miss your opinions (they are many)—I mean that with love. You have a lot of good ideas. I will miss our staff. We have such a good team of folks—everyone is so committed to the job; everyone loves serving this community. I’m so proud of our growth as a team. We finally have a full staff in place! Amen!
Things won’t be the same while I’m gone—they will be different, but they will be good. You will miss my booming bass voice echoing down the hall, my singing on Sundays, and my mystical rantings (at least I hope so). Church life will go on. Things won’t be perfect, they rarely are; but things will be as they should be and that is enough.
What will I be doing? I will be using my sabbath to travel a bit, to rest from the rigors of ministry; to write, meditate, reflect, among other forms of professional, religious, spiritual, or personal growth. A sabbatical is also known as “clergy renewal” for obvious reasons. Like the soil that needs to replenish after overuse, the sabbath allows religious leaders a time to look forward and backward—to appreciate and heal—to renew their souls.
Ministry is hard. Taking on the suffering and sometimes projection of others continually is exhausting. Carrying the weight of it all weighs on you and your family. Managing the hundreds of details necessary for a successful ministry is laborious. Rest is required. It’s time for me to rest. But I expect to come back super-charged and ready for the next chapter in our ministry together, Spirit willing.
My dream for this congregation remains unfulfilled so I believe there is still much work for us to do. We are really just now getting started as we hopefully move beyond the pandemic. I’m so proud of how we managed to do a construction project while facing COVID-19 and all that it brought to our lives. That says a lot about who you are. In many ways, we are literally and figuratively rebuilding what it means to be a postmodern liberal religious institution. That is an exciting challenge. Yes, we have had many successes and good times to celebrate but we still have a lot to do. We must diversify our pews with all due speed because that is what real Unitarian Universalism is and does. As a community, we must become more invitational and welcoming to strangers because that’s what UUism is and does. We have to become even more generous with our time, talent and treasure because we could do so much more to help our operations run smoothly. What does a postmodern 21st century UU congregation look like, act like, feel like? How can we use our space to serve you and others better? How can we make a bigger difference in the community? How can we go from good to great? These are some of the questions we must ask in the coming months while I’m away.
For me, I see our outdoor space—our 10 acres—as a spiritual campus of action and activities for you, your families, and the communities around Annapolis and Anne Arundel County. Our land can be a place people come during the week to hang out and read and meditate or come to a class; to do gardening or walking; It can be a campus of actions and activities based on our values and principles. I continue to see some sort of UU school on our land that promotes our values to our children and others in the community. I see holistic and wellness services offered here to help people heal deep emotional and physical maladies. I see a community garden that we all support and eat from. I see us as a space for helping folks with their emotional and racial literacy and faith formation spiritual development too. We need a clear vision for our building, land, and programs that is unified and aligned with our overall vision and mission. What do we hope to become over the next five years—10 years? Thinking about that excites me and I’ll be thinking about that while away.
I will continue to say, until I’m blue in the face, that we can be the religion for our time—when so many are turning away from the church. We can be that place for spiritual seekers that nourishes and challenges them. We can be that place for all generations and sexual orientations to come and celebrate life and love without damnation—toxic negativity; or even toxic positivity (when we don’t discuss evil and its ramifications). I love that we UUs keep it real! We face despair and evil and the ugliness in life and we do what we can to transmute hate into love. I love that we live in the world as it is while working to shape the planet as it should be.
We are a beloved community. We are a safe and bold space where people are affirmed and challenged to be their best selves. How do we tell this story more to the public? How do we live this story more authentically? How do we let our light shine even brighter?
Which makes me think about our social justice work… We have to figure out a cohesive plan there too. What should our social justice work look like? How do we want to engage in racial, environmental, or immigration justice work? We can’t do everything so when do we say YES or NO to something? We need a vision for our social action in the community. There are still “miles to go before we sleep.” We have a lot to do to realize our vision of a beloved community. I have shared some of my vision—but what do you see? Think about what you envision for this community. As I said, we can’t do everything, but we can find ways to work collectively toward our common goals.
What else? Ah! Let me not forget. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” Have I told you that I appreciate you? Have I told you that you are an awesome bunch of human beings? You are—all of you—every one of you. You are smart and witty and funny and intelligent and so well-read and compassionate and gentle and generous and all that and more. You have made me a better minister. That’s why I’ve been here so long. The best is yet to come for us. You are such a blessing and I am so thankful for you. I love this congregation. My life is full in part because of you. Thank you.
Last, but not least, to my wife, Joni, I say thank you for your patience and forgiveness as I know I’ve sacrificed a lot of time over the years for this ministry because you know it is my life’s calling and work. Thank you for standing by me even in the rough times. You’ve been my rock. You’ve wiped away my tears on many occasions. This ministry has sometimes been a burden on you too. This break will be good for us. My promise to you is that I will be more present with you during this time away. I love you.
What else is there to say? I will miss you. See ya later.