The World We Long For
The World We Long For
Rev. Douglas Taylor
8-30-26
Sertmon Video: https://youtu.be/iDr2ybW7LlA
Last Sunday, after leading worship here in morning, I met up with other people of faith for a Peace Walk in Otsiningo Park. This was our second annual interfaith Peace Walk. It feels good to have this positive activity together. The local interfaith group has been struggling in recent years. After covid and the shut downs, many faith communities felt the need to focus internally. We did. As folks were beginning to reach out again, the war between Israel and Gaza erupted, and locally we did not have the strength of relationship in place to navigate that together. It has been slow work to rebuild trust and come back together across our various communities of faith.
As one of the leaders in the interfaith community, I was pushing for us to keep it simple; to have discussions about the simple value of interfaith connections. In essence I suggested we not talk about the big divisive topic of the day, at least initially. Delightfully, last year we invited people to come together to offer prayers and walk together for peace. With wars and violence happening in the name of faith, we decided to meet each other in an activity for peace in the name of faith.
This is indirect – we’re not talking about genocide or about who is harming whom. We are not addressing the problem we all recognize, though we recognize it from different directions to be sure. But we are talking about what we’d like to see happening instead of the war and violence. We are talking together about the world we long for. It is a step. We are rebuilding local connections and relationships.
About three dozen of us gathered, Muslim, Christian, Pagan, Jewish, and Unitarian Universalist. A few of the clergy and lay leaders offered prayers. Then we split up into pairs or small clusters to walk around the park together with the conversation prompt: “What does your faith say about Peace?”
I walked with a retired doctor of the Muslim faith. He talked about what Islam teaches him about peace, about how his healing work as a doctor is a form of being true to the teachings of his faith about peace. I spoke about how my Unitarian Universalist faith calls me to practice justice and compassion on the road toward peace. I talked about how my faith says peace will come if we can build a true Beloved Community where all are cared for and injustices are addressed.
One of the deep values of Unitarian Universalism is Pluralism – the celebration of our diverse cultures, experiences, and theologies. We strive to live that value among ourselves as well as out in the community. We have an insert in the order of service today which shows the official Unitarian Universalist statement of values. https://www.uua.org/beliefs/shared-values You’ll see that Pluralism is one of the values we share.
If anyone asks you, “What is Unitarian Universalism? What do you all believe?” You can say – we are not a belief-centered religion, we are a values-centered religion. We have many different beliefs, but we gather around a set of values centered by Love.” And Pluralism is one of the values on our list.
And thinking back to the conversation I was having at the peace walk, Justice is one of the values on our list. When injustices are addressed, peace can occur. As Unitarian Universalist we pay attention of systemic oppressions and work to build something better in response. Over this past week, for example, we’ve had roof work done on our building. This meant we also had to be careful about Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The way ICE shows up is different depending on the community – around here lately, they have been targeting roofers who are brown and black.
So our leadership made a commitment to make our property a little bit safer for our roofers by blocking our driveways and stationing volunteers to sit out front whenever the roofers were here working. This was a good deal of added labor on our part and very inconvenient for everyone – not just ICE. It impacted our ability to prepare for our annual Veggiefest. The prep work for Veggiefest is fairly extensive and involved. With the added difficulties around accessing the building and concerns about an ICE raid – preparing for Veggiefest was untenable. So, we canceled.
We do still have musicians playing Porchfest today; and the Flea Market sale is still on along with some root beer float sales. And we are giving away ice pops along with conversations about the negative impact of ICE on our communities. But we’re not having Veggiefest this year. Which helps highlight how living our values will sometimes mean things don’t work out the way we want. Living our values doesn’t mean there are no conflicts. But our values help us navigate these conflicts and difficulties among us. Our values also help us respond to what’s going wrong in the world.
I have several complaints about what’s going wrong in the world around me. The way ICE is roaming our cities like masked and armed gangs is deeply troubling. The way unhoused people are treated by our local government and police is inhumane and cruel. The constant and casual lying and corruption is infuriating. The erosions of our democracy, the predatory capitalism, the plundering of our environment, the deregulation of food and drug safety, and the rampant bigotry and hypocrisy of this current administration is staggering.
And! … and I believe it is vital to have a clear vision of what I DO want. I have a long list of what is happening that I don’t want. But I cannot allow anger and indignation be my only response to it all. A set of values such as the official list of Unitarian Universalists values, gives me the framework for that affirming vision of the world we long for.
Here’s another example: This summer I had some back trouble which landed me in several doctors’ offices. Things are better now, but the suffering has shifted from physical pain to economic pain. We do not need to burden people with unreasonable medical debt – many other countries have figured this one out, yet we still do it. Economically, the country is in trouble. Many basic expenses like food and gas continue to rise, while medical debt, student loan debt, and housing costs sky rocket. It’s not sustainable – unless you happen to be one of the billions syphoning wealth off the rest of us. It’s sick.
But notice we have listed Generosity among our central Unitarian Universalist values. We, as a whole community, do what we can to share what we have to make the world a better place. We work to counter the avarice around us with compassion and attention. We are using our resources and several individuals are giving their time and energy to support vulnerable people in the community, to feeding people, bringing clothes and necessities to folks, treating people with dignity and respect. Generosity is not just about money; it’s about all our resources and how we share them.
The world we long for is a world rooted in the values that lift us up. Our Unitarian Universalist faith has constructed a list of values we hold as central, as defining for our identity as a religion. These values guide how we want to be as a religious community; and I argue they guide how us into the world we long to live in. I talked about and gave examples of Pluralism, Justice, and Generosity.
(And briefly, to say a word about each of the other values in our list…) We celebrate our Interdependence with our connectedness with nature and with each other. We honor the value of Equity with the way we treat all people with respect and dignity – each other and all those we partner with and who experience our activities in the community around us. And I am excited for the coming year and the offerings I will co-create for transformation and learning. All of this threaded though the central value of love!
And I want to be clear – this list of values we have is not exclusive or limiting. It’s just the list we came up with together through discussion and debate among thousands of UUs from hundreds of congregations over a span of more than 5 years just recently. But it is not to say there aren’t other values you find compelling or central to your understanding of love and faith.
We have some posters around the building that we made internally, they say
“Do you believe in kindness, peace, equality, love, inclusion, hope, and diversity? So do we.” Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Binghamton.
I want to be sure my list of values includes joy and grace and a sense of agency. I happen to like the term interconnected better than interdependent – but I still support the values listed in the official version of our UU values. I don’t need everything to fit me specifically or for every part of me to fit here – that’s just not realistic or necessary. This list is good, and good is good enough for us to heal each other and heal the world together.
In closing, I want to recast the reading we heard before the sermon. Rev. Scott Alexander’s “We Need a Religion” https://www.uua.org/worship/words/reading/we-need-religion paired various troubles in the world with the Seven UU Principles – that’s what we used to talk about our religion for about forty years before writing the new articulation about our values. I needed a new version, following Rev. Alexander’s structure, but following the values instead of the principles.
We Need a Religion inspired by Scott W. Alexander (by Douglas Taylor)
In a world with so much tyranny and oppression,
We need a religion that values justice, and works to be diverse multicultural Beloved Communities where all thrive.
In a world with so much fear and violence,
We need a religion that values transformation, and calls us to grow spiritually and ethically, adapting to a changing world.
In a world with so many persons abused and neglected,
We need a religion that values equity, and declares that every person is inherently worthy and has the right to flourish with dignity, love and compassion.
In a world with so much dogmatism and falsehood,
We need a religion that values pluralism, and embraces our differences while celebrating our free and responsible search for truth and meaning.
In a world with so much greed and corruption,
We need a religion that values generosity, and cultivates in us a spirit of gratitude and hope, where we are connected to one another in mutuality.
In a world with so much personal isolation and environmental degradation,
We need a religion that values interdependence, and leads us to acknowledge our place in the great web of life with reverence and humility.
In a world with so much uncertainty and despair,
We need a religion that is centered on the value of love, and teaches our hearts to hope, and our hands to care.
—
In a world without end,
May it be so
Wild Wonder
Wild Wonder
Rev. Douglas Taylor
8-23-26
Sermon Video: https://youtu.be/KhREu2uqyb8
Researchers call it “soft fascination.” Which makes it sound like a new-age meditation technique. Soft fascination is a state of effortless, gentle attention. Which is almost, maybe a meditation technique. But really, Soft Fascination is when your mind focuses on gentle environmental stimuli: think dappled sunlight on trees or creek water trickling around stones or branches swaying in the breeze. We are drawn to such sounds and movement in nature – not as a meditation technique, simply as a reality. We all do it. And it’s not because they are loud and amazing or demanding of our attention; but precisely because they are not.
Evolutionarily, these sounds and motions are a sign that all’s well – no danger or threat looming. Watching a thunder storm from a dry porch is certainly an amazing experience. Standing at the Grand Canyon is a phenomenal way to gain perspective. But that’s not the experience researchers are talking about. It is instead the soft, gentle, effortless stimuli we are naturally drawn to which allow our otherwise overtaxed minds to rest and heal.
And, I will add – this is not just cool background sounds like from a white noise machine – although such devices are not unhelpful. It’s not background. This experience of “soft fascination” is when your attention is on the experience. Studies have shown for decades that experiences of Soft Fascination are calming and restorative.
Other studies highlight benefits with stress reduction and anxiety reduction. There are studies about blood pressure, and pain perception, and general immune support. One hitch is that folks struggle to determine exactly why being in nature this way helps. We just know that it does.
I have always loved the woods and wilderness. I love the wilderness from my experiences growing up with many opportunities to explore and play and (every now and then) to simply be in the woods near my home. I grew up in the Bushnell Basin near to where the Erie Canal runs through the southern suburbs of Rochester, NY. Glaciers created the basin long ago, which accounts for the many sudden hills and lowlands. Across the street from my house was one such lowland. The ground dropped down several dozen feet to a broad swath of trees and clearings that we called The Flats. (not really enough to count as ‘wilderness’ but as a child it was enough.)
Every spring and fall the Flats would become a maze of flooded creeks and overgrown puddles, and all winter there would thick patches of ice everywhere. The land was not useful for farming or development and so was left to go wild with trees and shrubs, left to grow wild for the imagination and exploration of children.
Once I was old enough to be outside on my own, I spent nearly every nice afternoon down in the flats. I wandered a stretch of several miles, sometimes with a friend or sibling, more often alone. I explored, learning the boundary of the creek, memorizing where flats turned to cornfield, finding the biggest trees, making up games, having adventures.
I developed a strong sense of ownership to the Flats. ‘Ownership’ is too possessive a word – I developed a strong sense of identifying with the Flats. Like the wilderness was a gift for me to open anew each day. I spent years down there, like it was an extension of my own home.
When I read about environmental psychologists studying the benefits of being in nature, I am reminded of the woods of my youth. When I hear people talk about hiking or camping, I am reminded of the woods of my youth. When I venture out into the woods as an adult, I am reminded of the woods of my youth.
There is a potion of Walt Witman’s poem, Leaves of Grass that I’ve always identified with. “There was a child went forth every day,” Whitman wrote. And I was that child.
And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day … or for many years or stretching cycles of years. The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phœbe-bird
Whitman continues, listing many things in nature and people that became part of this child. The point he makes is that such encounters form our identities. Time in nature, or in any setting really, shapes who we become. I think we tend to down play the impact such experiences can have on children in particular. As adults we can still have formative experiences, but our brains are most ready for such things when we are younger.
When people think about ‘spiritual experiences’ we usually imagine big events, like a grand epiphany or dramatic turning point. What if a regular childhood practice like rambling through the woods could count as a spiritual experience. What if we’re talking about simple quiet experiences? Not just the grand dramatic ones?
In her most recent book The Wonder Paradox, philosopher, poet, professor Jennifer Michael Hecht writes about the value of poetry for non-religious people to engage in the thing religious people call ‘spiritual experiences.’ Her book explores how poetry can open us to wonder and awe. She offers a biographical context for herself early in the book:
My physicist father didn’t believe in God by kept quiet about it when we kids were young. I believed from the time my mother told me God was there until one day when I was twelve, standing in my parents’ living room, when I had an uncanny mental shift. I suddenly knew I might be anybody, anywhere, but instead I happened to be here, being me.
The proximate cause was ordinary loveliness: a steep slant of late-afternoon light serrated in the folds of a diaphanous blue curtain; nylon maybe. Yellow sunlight in a glowing fabric curlicue. I saw that we are just one species among great nature, and as the trees very slowly rot, so do our pampered haunches. That’s it. There is no reason to imagine a guy in the sky bowling to make thunder and brooding over how we fail him. Then the sounds of the world returned to my hearing. I never lost interest in such perspective shifts and I never again believed. (pp5-6)
I was fascinated by her description. One person can see a shaft of sunlight through the curtains and interprets a loving God, another the utter lack of a God, and still another can take no meaning whatsoever beyond that it is lovely. My point is less about the conclusions we may reach and more about honoring that such moments can and do shape us profoundly.
Hecht called what she experienced a ‘perspective shift.’ Perhaps it is this perspective shift that makes an ordinary experience of “soft fascination” into a spiritual experience. I’m beginning to devolve into analysis of semantics, for which I apologize. I’m very interested in our experiences of the natural world that lead us into wonder and healing.
I recently pawed through an old copy of the book The Geography of Childhood (1994). The book is a series of essays by naturalists Gary Nabhan and Stephen Trimble in which they present their hypothesis that children need wild places in their lives. Using mostly stories from their own lives and the lives of their children along with a sound base of theory, the authors make a compelling case. The hypothesis is not that everyone needs wild places, but that children need wild places.
Children in particular need wild places for developmental reasons. Surveys claim that less that ten percent of adults see the quality of the environment as an important issue, “over ninety percent of our children feel it is the major issue in their lives.” (p 40) They are drawn to wild places like moths to a flame. My experiences and feelings about nature fit well with what these authors suggest.
I remember how they talked about studies done around how young children use school playgrounds. In one situation, they replaced “an acre and a half of asphalt with a diverse group of traditional playground swings and bars; structures and sitting area; and a half-acre of fishing ponds, streams, woods, and meadows.” (p 66) Then they watched the children to see where and how they played. One aspect they found was how “the natural area of the playground saw wider ranges of activities and more mixing of the genders.” (Ibid) The bit of asphalt they left was used primarily by boys for competitive ball games. This is how some of the children described the natural area: “It’s a very good place. Really quiet. Lots of kids just sit around there and talk.” “It’s just perfect.” (Ibid) Children make themselves at home in the wilderness.
Slides and swings and playground climbing equipment are all really great. Kids love those things. They are exciting. And there is something altogether different and important found in wild spaces. All experiences of wonder are important and valuable. That experience of pumping on the swing and getting up so high! Holding on to a powerful ATV or snowmobile as the landscape flies past! Visiting the elephants at the zoo! All of these experiences can be experiences of wonder. They are curated, contained, commercialized. And they’re good.
But wild wonder is something else. Wild wonder is nourished by chirping crickets and shifting patches of sunlight, burbling creek water and fields of undulating wheat moving like waves on the ocean. Wild wonder hums and shines in a way that eases our minds and brings spiritual restoration. Wild wonder allows your nervous system to settle and heal. We are drawn to these natural experiences. We don’t need to force our minds to be empty or to recite the supplication in the correct way. We simply need to show up and allow our brains to do would they might naturally do when offered the context of the gentle natural world – to experience wonder.
May we each fall in love anew with the quiet murmurings of the natural world. May we ‘rest in the grace of the world.” May we be led into the presence of “green pastures” and “still water.” May we re-acquaint ourselves with the companionable ease found in being present where we belong – in nature, among the dappled leaves and gentle buzz of life. May you slip into moments of Soft Fascination. May it bring you rest. May it restore your soul.
In a world without end
May it be so
—
Not a Handout, Not a Payoff, Not a Bribe
Not a Handout, Not a Payoff, Not a Bribe
Rev. Douglas Taylor
May 17, 2026
Sermon video: https://youtu.be/wAWfaR_Xoxo
When Dr. King went to Washington 1963 and delivered the speech for which he is most famous, he did say “I have a dream…” and cast into our collective awareness a vision of beloved community for which we still yearn and strive. But he also said “In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.” In saying that, he was speaking of reparations. He likened the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence to a promissory note written to every American guaranteeing the inalienable rights of life liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
King pointed out the ways in which our government had “defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.” King lamented the conditions poverty and discrimination faced by people of color back then. He called on the country to make good on the promise enshrined in our founding documents. And this was not the only time Dr. King called for reparations in his speeches or in his books.
A piece I find quite compelling is the way King framed the conversation in our shared American values as the land of liberty and opportunity. Reparations can get mistakenly framed as charity or entitlement or some sort of handout – but in truth the concept is rooted in repair. Reparations is a way to repair something broken.
In his highly acclaimed piece in the Atlantic back in 2014 “The Case for Reparations, Ta-Nehisi Coates explains the goals of the concept.
“What is needed is an airing of family secrets, a settling with old ghosts. What is needed is a healing of the American psyche and the banishment of white guilt. What I’m talking about is more than recompense for past injustices—more than a handout, a payoff, hush money, or a reluctant bribe. What I’m talking about is a national reckoning that would lead to spiritual renewal.”
—Ta-Nehisi Coates, “The Case for Reparations” (Atlantic, 2014)
I remember a conversation I had with a contractor doing some work for me on my roof. He shared with me some of his struggles as a small business owner and how working for some other big company might be the easier way. But he complained about a state program that gave financial incentives to people of color starting small businesses. He wondered where his support was. But this guy had generational wealth and support – his dad and two of his brothers all did similar work; and when he hit hard times, I witnessed his family pitch in to help him. That’s the point. Our country has systematically undercut generational wealth for Black people.
I recently read about the 2019 Yale University study revealing a dramatic disconnect in our understanding of the financial situation for Black people in our country. The story revealed that “most Americans believe that Black households hold $90 in wealth for every $100 held by white households.” (in The 1619 Project by Nikole Hannah-Jones) What do you think it really is? (The actual amount is $10-13.)
Reparations is about thinking like a community instead of like an individual. What does the community need in response to the harm that’s happened, not what do I need or what would work for me. It doesn’t really mean anything for me to say I’ve never owned slaves or stolen land from indigenous people or blocked someone from homeownership with a restrictive racial covenant or put a Japanese American in an internment camp. I didn’t do any of those things. And in so stating I’ve contributed nothing to the conversation. We need to start thinking like a community for this. Instead of refusing to be blamed, ask what we need. What do we need to repair, to heal, to bring more justice to our situation.
Reparations can often begin in education, in helping the community understand the situation we are in. New York State passed the Amistad law ten years back mandating schools to teach comprehensive instruction on the American Slave trade and its impact on our country and our people. And currently the state is hosting public hearings on Reparations.
https://www.ny.gov/programs/new-york-state-community-commission-reparations-remedies
They had a hearing in Binghamton just a few weeks ago that I regret missing. The group is currently just soliciting input and feedback with the likelihood of new legislative proposals when they publish their report later this year. They may end up talking about education again. Perhaps they’ll tackle housing, or climate, or poverty. We’ll see.
In a news article about the hearings, Commission Chair Seanelle Hawkins says,
“There’s still a lot of hurt and trauma. And healing needs to happen, especially when we see there are inequities that are still present today. We said that slavery happened many years ago but we’re still feeling the impact of that today. So, we invite the Southern Tier to be part of the healing process.”
What might reparations look like in a congregation? I suspect our monthly Special Collections are a small beginning of that work. Not because we are sending money to a group or organization doing good work; but because we are working to develop our relationships with these groups. Money is one way to approach reparations. But are root, relationships are the key.
There is a fascinating case study online about First Parish Unitarian Universalist in Needham, MA. During some research and investigation for an anti-racism workshop, the minister uncovered a deep history of slavery associated with the congregation she served. Rev. Catie Scudera went on to offer some powerful truth-telling about Needham UU’s founding slave-owning minister. There was no money involved in this example, just a facing of the harm wrought.
https://www.uua.org/uuagovernance/committees/cic/widening/restoration-reparations
Consider another example, the Akron UU church has what they call “reparations through music.” On their church website, that explain that, as part of their anti-racism work, the “Music Committee is initiating taking an offering every time we use a Spiritual in our services.” It is a recognition that we owe a tremendous debt to the catalogue of music categorized as ‘spirituals.’
The Music Committee has designated the local Akron non-profit group YEPAW (Youth Excellence Performing Arts Workshop) as the recipient of this offering because of the transformative, life altering work YEPAW does for young people in the Akron area https://uuakron.org/justice-council/reparations-through-music/
Here is a third example: I attended a UUA sponsored workshop on Reparations a few weeks ago and listened to Rev. Oscar Sinclair and lay leader Louise Livesay-Al talk about an internal racism audit they did at Unity – Unitarian in St. Paul, MN more than a decade back that laid the groundwork for their thinking and perspective when a bequest came their way of a significant chunk of money. In discussion and discernment, the congregation decided to give the money in the form of reparations to people affected by the impacts of racism and oppression. That choice from over ten years back has led the congregation to be remarkably engaged with the community around them to this day.
A final example I’ll offer is from Camp Unirondack, the UU youth camp I attended growing up. Recently the emails from executive staff have included a tag with a land acknowledgement. “Unirondack is located on stolen Haudenosaunee land.”
By themselves, land acknowledgements like this can feel less like a statement about injustice and more like virtue signaling. ‘Are we planning to give the stolen land back?’ some people will ask. A real response to this tension is not so simplistic, of course.
On the website, under the page about camperships and discounts, the camp has this:
Camp Unirondack is committed to anti-colonial justice. That is why Unirondack is free for Indigenous campers.
We recognize that the Haudenosaunee land that we occupy does not belong to us. We recognize that, while it may not be possible to fully reconcile that fact, there are many things that we can do right now to address the harms of ongoing colonial violence in our communities.
During our time as occupants here, we strive to be good stewards and caretakers of the land so that it may be in good health for future generations. We use our platform as educators to teach our campers and staff about the painful realities of colonial history in North America, and the ongoing struggles of Indigenous peoples today. We hope to inspire a generation of youth who will fight back against colonial injustice in their communities.
https://www.unirondack.org/camperships-discounts
Reparations can take many forms. It may be about sending money in a particular direction such as investment or divestment, or simply offering uncomfortable truth about our history such as about the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921. It may be about crafting or advocating legislative changes at various levels from federal to local, or it may involve reconciliation among communities where harm has been committed. What might it look like for us?
Our Unitarian Universalist values call us to build Beloved Community. Our core values of generosity, Equity, and Justice lead us to engage with the conversations happening in and beyond our congregations to repair what is broken among us.
Most of the work of justice and repair is about relationships. I’m not suggestion a particular program or path. I’m not offering answers. I hope we will reflect together more deeply and honestly about our values and the harm we know has happened and is happening.
May we trust that we can think like a community rather than like individuals. May we lean into relationships around us where harm has been experienced. May we be curious together about what repair could look like here and in our country. May we speak truth, love justice, and move humbly through a hurting world.
In a world without end,
May it be so.
How to Adult
How to Adult
Rev. Dougals Taylor
April 26, 2026
Sermon Video: https://youtu.be/Ybsp_eg2MMc
I love how in the English language you can “verb” a word that would normally be a noun if you try hard enough. Do you remember being ‘wanded’ at the airport? Or how you can ‘friend’ me on social media? It’s not a new phenomenon. We ‘table’ discussions and ‘pencil’ each other in. You can ‘butter’ your toast while you ‘voice’ your opinion on this. This morning, I am curious about what goes into the act of “Adulting.”
If you are unfamiliar with this ‘verbing’ of the word ‘adult,’ allow me to reveal its meaning. There is an old Peanuts cartoon (1972) in which Charlie Brown is talking with Peppermint Patty. https://jerz.setonhill.edu/blog/2023/02/14/security-is-sleeping-in-the-back-seat-of-the-car/#jp-carousel-35790
She says, “Lately everything seems to bother me …”
“How do you mean?” he asks.
“What do you think security is, Chuck?”
“Security?” He thinks about it. “Security is sleeping in the back seat of the car. When you’re a little kid and you’ve been somewhere with your mom and dad, and it’s night and you’re riding home in the car, you can sleep in the back seat. You don’t have to worry about anything. You’re mom and dad are in the front seat, and they do all the worrying … they take care of everything.”
“That’s real neat,” Peppermint Patty is smiling thinking about that feeling.
“But it doesn’t last!” Charlie Brown warns. “Suddenly you’re grown up and it can never be that way again. Suddenly it’s over and you’ll never get to sleep in the back seat again! Never!”
“Never?” She asks.
“Absolutely never.”
“Hold my hand, Chuck!”
Ah, classic comic strips. Sometimes light on the laughs but always ready for some poignant social commentary.
Adulting, according to Peanuts, means you have to do all the worrying now. People might say “I’m done adulting for the day” when they’ve had a particularly hard task they had to do that earlier that day. Adulting is about being responsible, about doing things that have to get done, usually unpleasant things like car repairs, taxes, and getting yourself to the dentist – all while the world around us feel like its on fire. That added layer of context is important. ‘Adulting’ as I’m hearing the term used, is about coming to terms with the reality of global climate degradation, war, Fascism, human trafficking, political corruption, and corporate greed, … all while doing the laundry and making the grocery list. Adulting is about doing all the things we need to do while everything else is also going on. You have to do all the worrying now.
And the current generation feels this more pressingly than previous generations with the way our media and information is always available in our lives. There is so much to worry about! The news was not so much in our faces two generations back. So ‘adulting’ is certainly about managing responsibilities and obligations, but this piece about also having to do all as the world seems to be on fire is an important nuance to it all.
This week I was up at a retreat with my clergy and religious educator colleagues, and over lunch I asked several of them about my sermon topic. I told them my title and asked, “What do you think I should say to them?” One colleague really emphasized this piece around the feeling of global anxiety. This younger colleague really wanted me to hear how her generation can’t get away from the pile-on of crises happening around us.
Another colleague recommended I pause mid-sermon and let us all howl for a bit. Because adulting is hard. (Awoooo!) A modern, playful version of biblical lament, perhaps, about all the things! (Awoooo!) Howling is a little outlet for the anxiety.
Yet another colleague framed their response around learning better regulation techniques. They said being an adult means you have to do your own regulation of your nervous system. This point tied in with what I was planning to say already but filled in a piece I had been missing until this colleague mentioned it. Perhaps ‘adulting’ is about learning to regulate your nervous system in the face of everything you are responsible for now.
Perhaps it’s not really about the errands and the chores and the decisions we need to make as adults. It’s about managing all those adulting obligations while also navigating fear and loss, managing the ebb and flow of friendships, dealing with anxiety – your own and that of others. “Being the one responsible for all the worrying” is about learning to regulate your nervous system.
This the ‘adulting’ task that caught my interest. Learning to regulate is foundational to dealing with all the other, mundane adult tasks like filling out extra forms for the doctor’s visit, or paying off a parking ticket, or dealing with growing personal debt.
In keeping with the analysis offered by Charles Shulz, we need security. The opening question in the comic about being able to fall asleep in the back seat is about security. Being an adult is not only about providing that feeling of security for our children; it’s about having that security for ourselves. And I hear from a lot of young adults that they are scrambling, which does not signal a feeling of security.
The economy features strongly in this scrambling people describe to me. One article I read talks about “the insecurity produced by the gigification of labor, AI-driven job loss, and algorithmic scheduling” as a reality blocking the generation of young adults from attaining a financial foothold into the stability we normally associate with adulthood. (From May 2026 Christian Century article “Has Worship become a Luxury Good?”)
The usual benchmarks of adulthood and financial security are things like getting married, starting a family, graduating with a degree in your field, beginning a career that will last 40 or more years, buying a home: These milestones are less attainable for today’s young adults. And that’s something people might want to howl about.
It is hard to really feel like you’ve entered adulthood when you are still in a transitional space in your life. And you may not be personally feeling this but you probably know someone who is, or you’re feeling something related. And I’ll note that many elders are feeling this economic phenomenon when they don’t feel secure enough to retire. For elders, it’s not the same conversation as ‘adulting.’ It plays differently but I think it’s rooted in the same overarching economic and social context. This may simply be what it feels like to be regular people experiencing the decline of an empire in real time.
And before we fall into despair, allow me to say some more about how we need to learn to regulate our nervous systems as adults. Because the premise is that we need to all get better at self-regulating. The premise is that ‘being an adult’ means we can’t fall asleep in the backseat anymore.
But what if that’s not true? What if adulting doesn’t have to be imaged as a solo act? I do agree that self-regulation is a key feature of adulting. You do need to figure out how to keep yourself grounded, doing the things that need to get done. Yes. But what if that doesn’t mean we have to give up on co-regulating?
My colleague (… and let me pause for a moment and point out how often in this sermon I’ve said that I found wisdom from a colleague – I’m not relying only on my own adult brain to bring today’s message! …) My colleague George Tyger shared this reflection recently on this point of regulating our nervous systems:
Self-regulation is important, but co-regulation is imperative.
Why is co-regulation is so important:
it creates safety before insight
It reduces threat and shame
it helps the body come out of survival mode
it teaches regulation through lived experience, not just instruction
it protects connection when distress would otherwise turn into rupture
When the nervous system is in distress, either in flight mode or shutdown, We don’t need a lesson on coping skills. We need a grounded human being to be with us, attuned to us. Individual skills work if the nervous system is no longer drowning.
We do not learn calm alone. We learn it in the presence of calm.
Which means, maybe some of the anxiety baked into the idea of adulting – the part that says we have to do all the worrying on our own now – maybe that part is a lie. Maybe, like Peppermint Patty at the end of the Peanuts comic, we can reach out and ask Chuck to hold our hand.
And here is why this is a sermon instead of a ted-talk that happens to be on a Sunday morning: a significant part of what we do in Unitarian Universalism is build community together around shared values. We gather on Sunday mornings and sing together, we hold silence together, we share food and conversation together after the service – which are all practices that allow co-regulation to be happening for people.
I know that no everyone has friends around them that can help calm that anxiety – but that’s what places like this congregation are for. We help each other grow in maturity. Growing is not something people are meant to do alone.
I have always enjoyed the quote from A Powel Davies who said the work of the church is to help people grow a soul. Davies was talking about developing our personal moral compass and critical thinking skills; he was talking about deepening our capacity for empathy and compassion. ‘Growing a soul’ is done in community.
I suggest this is also what we need to make ‘adulting’ easier. We need communities in which we can learn to be calm; in which we can co-regulate together in the face of the world’s atrocities; in which we can, at times, carry each other.
It is a lie that says we have to carry all this alone. We can support each other; we need to support each other and to be supported. That’s how we grow. That’s how we live. That’s what it means to be a mature adult. We do this together.
Hold my hand, Chuck.
In a world without end
May it be so
The Modern Abolition Movement
The Modern Abolition Movement
Emily Richards and Douglas Taylor
3-29-26
Sermon Video: https://youtu.be/phpQUnoJUh0
Emily: Part 1
When we hear the word abolition we immediately think about tearing something down. Abolition in this country in the 18th and 19th centuries was the movement that sought to end slavery and continues to be what first comes to mind for many people when we talk about abolition.
Today the conversations about abolition have shifted and it is common to see and hear messages such as abolish the police. Abolish ICE. Demands that we get rid of the systems that are in place.
Dr. Crystal T Laura shared “I think of abolition as the deliberate and intentional removal of imprisonment, isolation, punitive institutionalization as the foremost way that we address issues of harm and healing.”
Abolition is the deliberate and intentional removal of systems that cause harm yes, but abolition justice inherently also has to include the building of something new.
Not REbuilding, which in many ways was what happened during reconstruction after the abolition of slavery in the United States, the old systems were simply shifted to continue to allow for the oppression and profit off of the people who were freed from chattel slavery.
True abolition means creating something totally different. And ideally better. In order to do that you have to tear down these systems and start from scratch.
The challenge there is that these systems, these ideologies, are so ingrained into the society in which we live that we cannot imagine what we would create to replace them.
Eric Stanley wrote:
“Abolition is not some distant future but something we create in every moment when we say no to the traps of empire and yes to the nourishing possibilities dreamed of and practiced by our ancestors and friends.
Every time we insist on accessible and affirming health care, safe and quality education, meaningful and secure employment, loving and healing relationships, and being our full and whole selves, we are doing abolition.
Abolition is about breaking down things that oppress and building up things that nourish. Abolition is the practice of transformation in the here and now and the ever after.”
Abolition is building things up. What do we want to build? What are we called to build as UUs? As a people who value justice and equity and generosity? As a people who believe in transformation, of our selves, our communities and our society?
Douglas: Part 2
This conversation about Abolition grew out of a “Congregational Study Action Issue” at our UUA General Assembly this past summer (2025). In general, a Congregational Study Action Issue (or CSAI for short) is a multi-year process intended to have people in our congregations talk about and consider a justice issue most of us do not already know a lot about. The point is to encourage sermons and workshops to get us talking and thinking before we draft any statements or work toward any changes.
When I heard the Abolition proposal, my initial thought was ‘prison reform is a worthy goal, I agree we should talk about that.’ But this is not simply a conversation about making changes to how prisons work in our society.
At root, it is about crime and punishment – yes. But theologically it asks us to look at what we mean by the idea of ‘crime,’ to recognize that not all behaviors we categorize as ‘crimes’ are about harm and not all harm is categorized as a crime. Digging deep we can ask: what do we do with people who cause harm? Are some people disposable? What would redemption look like, or rehabilitation, or repair?
One aspect of this conversation I eventually realized is that we’re also talking about the issues in our society that lead people to ‘break the law’ and end up in prison. Can we recognize that issues of poverty, racism, addiction, and homelessness are connected to this issue of abolition?
If we abolish prisons, we will also need to abolish the conditions that too often lead people to ‘break the law.’ If we had universal health care and affordable housing and minimum basic income – a lot fewer people would be at risk of incarceration.
This conversation leads us to consider all the harm that happens that never gets labeled as criminal. Can we recognize that climate degradation, wage theft, and income inequality are not ‘criminal’ but are issues we’ll want to tackle if we are going to seriously build a just world without relying on our current prison industrial complex.
Abolition has a holistic vision bringing in a broad swath of justice issues we Unitarian Universalists tend to be actively working on already. We talk about intersectionality and how often our struggles in one area overlaps with other areas in our lives.
This conversation about abolition touches on LGBTQ issues and immigration and reproductive rights and human trafficking and political corruption and addiction and so much more because it starts with the question of ‘what counts as a crime?’ and how will we respond as a community?
What might society look like if we began with responses to those questions that take our Unitarian Universalist values seriously? This isn’t merely about abolishing the systems that do not work – that are in fact causing us harm. It is also about imagining what we might do when we start to build something new.
Emily: Part 3
Frederic Jameson said “It’s easier for us to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” Really sit with that. “It’s easier for us to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.”
We can include capitalism when talking about abolition. We can include it along with the abolishment of modern day slavery, of the prison industrial complex, of human trafficking, of forced labor, of family policing. Of all of these systems.
It was my youngest’s birthday this past week and they wanted McDonald’s for dinner. Wednesdays are a busy day for us so we went through the drive through on our way home from rehearsal and they noticed that there was a sign on the window that said that they didn’t accept bills larger than a $50.
And they asked why. I replied that it was probably because they don’t keep much cash in the register so they wouldn’t have change for a larger bill. And then I kind of flippantly added, they probably empty the registers regularly so there isn’t much in there if they get robbed.
And my kids were so offended that someone might rob McDonald’s. To which I responded, wouldn’t it be great if we lived in a society where people didn’t need to resort to robbing McDonald’s.
When we talk about abolition that is what we mean. Can we imagine a society where no one is living in poverty? Where no one feels like they need to steal to survive?
Alan Detlaff, a professor, author, and abolitionist, shares that statistics show that nearly three-quarters of children in foster care are there because of neglect, which is largely associated with poverty and disproportionately affects brown and black children.
Can we imagine a society where there is no need for children to be removed from their families for the crime of being poor?
Douglas: Part 4
In two weeks, on Sunday April 12, we will have a workshop based on Mariam Kaba’s book We Do This ‘Til We Free Us. We used an excerpt from the book as our reading this morning. Alex Compton and Catherine Magdala will lead the class with the support of our Social Action Huub.
We’ll crack open this conversation around abolition together. If you already have this figured out, maybe this class isn’t for you. But if you are curious or are beginning to see some connections and want more – then we can start a serious conversation about abolition and what might be possible together.
Last week in my sermon on “The Rejected Stone” I said:
“We are called to take care of each other, to build a society in which we all can thrive – not just some, but all. We are called to denounce the idea that some people are disposable or unworthy. The rejected and the outcast are more than welcome here – we are celebrated, central.” (3-2-6)
If that’s true, then we will want to start talking seriously about abolition together.
Last month in my sermon “Do We Have Enough Love” I shared this:
“Friends, our theology does not call us to be among the respected classes. We are not called to whisper sweet platitudes of God’s love to the oppressors. Instead, we are called to remember that our love is radical. … Our faith calls us to build just and loving communities. Our faith calls us to get out among people in need and get our hands dirty, to let our days be the evidence of our hearts on fire.” (2-15-26)
If that rings true, then we will want to start talking seriously about abolition together.
Last fall in my sermon “Sometimes Things Break” I reminded us:
“Sometimes things break. That doesn’t mean we are bad people. We can thrive and grow when broken, (perhaps only when we are broken.) How we respond to the brokenness builds the world around us. It’s not the brokenness that matters. What matters is our response. What matters is the love.” (9-28-25)
And if that sounds right to you, then we will want to start talking seriously about abolition together.
Friends, this is something we’ve been building up toward for a while. It only seems impossible because it is a big idea. But all the pieces are in front of us and we’ve been talking about them together for a few years. Abolition only seems radical because it is. But that’s what we’re here for – radical love, the kind of love that can get all of us free.
Emily: Part 5
W.E.B. du Bois wrote, at the beginning of Looking Forward, “How two theories of the future of America clashed and blended just after the Civil War: the one was abolition democracy based on freedom, intelligence and power for all men, the other was an industry for private profit directed by an autocracy determined at any price to amass wealth and power.”
The rise of autocracy and an industry determined to amass wealth and power, at any cost, has created a society where only the few can truly thrive and the rest of us are confined within systems that judge our worth based solely on our monetary assets, and find us lacking.
Abolition goes beyond making a few changes to the systems that already exist. Abolition requires a fundamentally different way of living. It requires building up things that nourish everyone. It requires transformation in the here and now and the ever after.
And to get there we need to start the demolition.
In a world without end,
may it be so.
Rev. Douglas Taylor 