“…What you seek is seeking you…”’
Let’s say… you’re a flower (a lotus, for the sake of this visioning).
A native trans-plant.
You’ve surfaced from your seed, spread roots downward, and emerged upward from fertile ground into the open air.
You’ve soaked up living waters through your roots, and breathed in symphonies of sunshine through your crown.
Some of that light has shape-shifted into sugar (thanks to Mother Earth’s alchemy), and your stems have flowered. You’ve matured.
You are now ready to be fertile ground. To co-create in living color.
Your heart’s elixir is beginning to surface.
You are breathing out your spirit’s secreted secret (your nectar) – and feeling assured enough at long last to cast your fragrance (your pollen) to the wind. You’re blooming.
And you are desperately seeking the bees who will allow you to fully be.
Speaking your pollen into the wind, while also inviting in a crosscurrent of pollen from elsewhere – which would grant you the gift of growing seeds for the world’s feeding.
So may it secretly begin.
As fate would have it, you happen to be blooming in the vicinity of a rather unique colony of honey bees. They are a sweet and welcoming bunch (they do far more singing than stinging).
These honey bees need, primarily, two things to live. Nectar (energy) and pollen (a balance of protein and fats) – both of which now abide inside you in abundance.
They seek that nectar for their nourishing. They will, in fact, chew on it, pass it to and through each other, and that energy exchange will eventually transform the nectar into honey.
And as your floral offering is being freely given (and gratefully received), the bees are returning the favor by (quite literally) rubbing off on you. They are transferring the residual pollen of their travels to your petals.
They are saints from elsewhere.
You give the colony the gift of honey – a liquid gold currency by which they feed each other and all others.
They give you the gift of grace-filled growth. And the experience of creative expression – the divine dance of producing/reproducing light.
But these particular bees are particular.
It can’t just be any old nectar (or nectar from just any flower). After all, they’ve been feasting lavishly on the nectar of a particularly lovely perennial sage for more than a decade. They seek a flower to blossom alongside their sage for a few seasons. And the flower they are seeking must be as unique as they are – aligned, and of like mind.
This is also true for you. No ordinary sage or random colony of honey bees will do. Only the right fit.
So it is no small feat that fate saw fit to cross your paths. It is a most sublime kind of synchronicity that you both seem to have precisely what the other is seeking.
The sage catches wind of your nectar and, before you know it, you and the colony are in each other’s orbit. Buzzing. Blooming. Developing. Enveloping. Local honey abounding – flowing into everything surrounding.
Exit seasonal allergies.
Enter sweet synergy.
So – the great revelation of my ordination?
I am that. The lotus, that is.
The sage is Paige.
And the honeybee colony is you, you see? (UUCC).
For me, this was as clear as a crystal quartz on Sunday evening – in the moments before ‘Resolution’, ironically. An African-American mystic UU in a military chaplain’s uniform – draped simultaneously in a custom-crafted reverend’s robe. Adorned in a handmade stole too special (and too specific) to ever be stolen.
Imagine Morpheus (in ‘Matrix’ terms) as both bodhisattva and bassist. Imagine him playing and singing some not-at-all-smooth jazz in dress blues – at his ordination service. Offering Coltrane as a benediction response (capping the choral context of Carly Simon, Take 6, Indigo Girls – and a spiritual). Imagine six souls on the chancel comprising a vast confluence of denominations, orientations, generations, and pigmentations. Imagine Morpheus leaning into the embrace of a few hundred friendly faces. A richly diverse honeycomb of family, friends, and colleagues in the seats, all buzzing with sweet love. Think about it…
Where else could this happen?
Where else would this happen?
Where else would this moment – or the fullness of my ministry – even be possible?
In truth, really only here. And only now.
The buzz I probably hear most frequently in the receiving line on Sundays?- “…We’re so lucky to have you…”.
In truth, I am just as lucky (if not more) to have you.
I am a lot of things that don’t normally go together. I show up in this world with arrows that don’t typically coexist in the same quiver (see the above Morpheus montage). In the words of Walt Whitman, “…I am large. I contain multitudes. ..”.
And a few years ago, I was seeking a place to flower fully – to be all of my multiplicity.
I was seeking the bees who would pick up what I was putting down. Who could not only tolerate the complex carbs in my nectar, but appreciate them. Celebrate them.
I desired deeply to unfold inside a truly complementary colony, alongside a nurturing and nourishing sage. To be in communion with that which I was seeking (which was also seeking me).
Thank you for ordaining me. For pollinating me.
Thank you for orbiting my petals, and breathing in my nectar. For harvesting it into honey, and spreading your sweetness outside (and inside) our doors. Thank you for allowing me to create and for re-creating me.
Thank you for giving rise.
Thank you for surrounding me in love and light, and growing me in challenge and comfort.
Thank you for being the container for my multitudes.
Thank you for showering my flowering family (Sarah & Tobias) in so many precious gifts and heartfelt affirmations.
Thank you for all the kind words, prayers, good vibrations, well wishes, warm welcome, positivity, generosity, time, energy, and love.
And for the sweet honey you all have poured into my (prog) rock.
Thank you for feeding me, and needing me.
And for your seeking spirits.
I am so lucky to have you.