“Where is the Good in Goodbye?”
Morgan McLean, Intern Minister
Sunday, May 22, 2011


Note: The sermon is an oral event. This manuscript may not reflect the exact spoken words. If you want to hear what was actually said, you can listen to the sermon on our website at www.uurockford.org. © Morgan McLean, 2011.

We come to forks in the woods throughout our lives. Some of them are obvious, others are gradual, but we come and go with different travelers, and each time makes all the difference. It’s those experiences, and the people we share them with, however briefly, that make us real – that make us loving individuals in relationship with each other.

At each change, we welcome new people and experiences, and we also say goodbye to what’s behind us. Often, it’s people: friends moving out of town or just moving on, family going in different directions, co-workers when we leave a job, people we’ve loved as we leave relationships. And with those goodbyes, we also leave a part of us. We need to acknowledge we will be different – we will call different people to share our days, our holiday celebrations will change, our daily routines will be interrupted, and we’ll need to learn to trust another person.

None of this easy. I’ve never met someone who likes to say goodbye. Over the last few months I’ve been talking to people here about goodbyes – about how we prepare for them, if we ritualize them somehow, and sharing stories and memories about good, and not so good, goodbyes. I found everyone has stories on both sides, and many goodbyes that were neutral. People who just faded out of our lives, or where the excitement of what’s ahead diminished the sadness what we’ve left behind. So, where IS the “good” in “goodbye”?

The Chalice Circles that have been meeting this year will be asking this question this week. The writers of the sessions, Christine Robinson and Alicia Hawkins say that “a good goodbye is not only a sad acknowledgement of change, but also an opportunity for gratitude and for finishing any unfinished business of the relationship.” Goodbye is an opportunity, and there are four components of an ideal goodbye for them: disengagement, memory, resolution, and blessing.

Disengagement doesn’t mean ignoring or burying what’s happening. In fact it’s the opposite. We must acknowledge not only to the other person, but to ourselves, the changing relationship. We might not see each other again. Or, if we do it will be different, because we will be different. When we change jobs or retire, the people and the routine we spend each day with, will change. It’s easy to say “we’ll see each other soon” but we also know, from experience, that that probably won’t happen as much as we’d like.

We have to let go. Let go of the past, and what that person or experience was to us. Not to forget it, but to allow that part of our lives to move in us; to change us, and help us in the future. That’s hard, and it’s sad to think something important to us will no longer be there. Maybe it’s our neighbor, or our working years, or our college years, or our hair dresser, or our intern minister. We’ve had a set of experiences that have changed us – sometimes for the better, sometimes not, but we can’t hold onto it. Our lives are fluid, and we have to disengage from the past to move into the future.

Another part of an artful ending is memory. We know that well here in this church, gathering all too often for memorial services, sharing memories and stories that heal our loss. We don’t need to wait for our final goodbye to share memories. Each goodbye is an opportunity to remember the experiences. Often when we leave a job or retire, there’s a party and we share stories, often laughing, though sometimes crying, and remember the time we had. The last meal you share with a friend leaving town will probably be filled with “remember when we…” and “how about that one time…” That’s perfect - especially when those relationships have been positive.

I have been reminiscing with you all for the last few weeks. I’m sure I’ll never forget a moment of Trash or Treasure week, with the clearing of the chairs in the sanctuary, and the unruly number of mugs set up in Deale Hall. I’ll cherish the time and stories shared in the Chalice Circles I’ve been part of. I joke that the thing I’ll miss most is the Finance Committee, but I will remember those, and many, many other committee meetings where dedicated volunteers do the work of this church. We’ve shared moving worship in this unique sanctuary, and with the choir. And I’ve so enjoyed each shared moment, hugs and hellos after the service, meals shared together, conversations in the hallways and my office. I remember these with a big smile.

Sometimes our memories, however, are not positive. Sometimes becoming real hurts. And those memories are hard to share when we’re saying goodbye. Often, in fact, goodbyes bring out the not-so-happy memories. The times when we felt hurt, or sad. So another component of saying goodbye is “resolution.” Goodbyes are opportunities to reconcile the past. As Robinson and Hawkins explain “We might clear up what really happened, forgive a hurt, acknowledge imperfections, agree to disagree, or come to realize that we all communicated poorly and congratulate ourselves for going on with the relationship anyway.” Resolution is a change for us to acknowledge our experience or relationship for what is was. Nothing is perfect, nothing, and it’s good to admit that – maybe it allows us to forgive ourselves, or other people, just a little as we say goodbye.

The last component of saying goodbye is a blessing, or a positive sending. Our word “Goodbye” has been shortened from the phrase “God be with ye.” Each time we say goodbye, even if the person is just going to grocery store, we are offering a blessing. When we say goodbye it is important to somehow wish the other person, and ourselves, well. Often this is easy because we’re saying goodbye and moving onto a new opportunity. We sincerely hope for their success, for a new path to unfold, for new travelling companions.

Sometimes it’s hard to give a blessing, because the person or experience you’re leaving has been hurtful. In those moments we often, through clenched teeth, say something like “we’re stronger for it” or “at least I’ve learned about myself.” I think those count as a blessing, at least at first. It’s about taking just a moment to acknowledge even in the darkest moments, that we hold the hope of light. Maybe someday, maybe right now, we can offer them a blessing. Hope for their own healing and transformation, for their eventual success and happiness, even if independent from your own.

I am not clenching my teeth to offer a blessing to anyone here today. When I came in August, I knew I would only be here through May. Today is my last Sunday in this church. Next weekend I’ll be starting a new leg of my journey, preparing to start my new ministry at Main Line Unitarian Church in Devon, Pennsylvania. I wish you well, and offer many blessings for your continued journeys.

I like to give gifts, so today I have a little gift for each of you. I wish it could be more, but it’s just a reminder of our chance meeting and the many risks we have all taken this year as we have developed our relationship.
(Congregation is given dice)

As you hold your die, I hope you might remember the luck and the chance in the experiences you have and the people you meet. And I encourage you to continue rolling the dice, knowing that you will sometimes have to say goodbye, but also knowing you could hit the jackpot.

I have seen you continually roll the dice, making new friendships and connections everywhere. You are proud, and should be, of what you do both inside the church and in the community. You have endless stories about this church – about social events and committee work, worship and the choir, fundraisers and community outreach, and the families and friends that have developed here. You celebrate life – there is joy in your work, in your gardens and special projects. You hold this history of this congregation, but you aren’t stuck in the past – in fact you focus on present activities and where to go.

I am thankful for the experiences I’ve had and people I’ve known in this congregation. I am grateful for your ongoing commitment to host intern ministers, and supporting the other seminarians who have a spiritual home here. This is a great place to learn about Unitarian Universalism and the power of community. Thank you for the ways you have changed me – I will carry the work of this church and each of you into my future ministry. Thanks for making me more real. I hope I have offered you something in return.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and it wasn’t that the path was less travelled… that’s not what made the difference. No, the difference came years later. It was the perspective of looking back on the journey, and not being able to imagine anything different. As we come and go and move through our lives, the more we stay present on the journey, the more we’ll be able to see the difference it’s making.

There is good in goodbye. It is that we have been in relationship. The good is that we have been changed by the people and experiences in our lives. We have taken risks, taken a chance that a certain path might make all the difference, and we travel those paths together. That is the sacred gift of our faith community. I hope you continue to share the journey; to practice artful goodbyes with disengagement, memory, resolution, and blessings. I hope you keep rolling the dice, open to the possibilities. I hope you will celebrate this community where we share our lives, no matter how many goodbyes there are.