Sunday, October 13, 2024
What the World Needs Now: Humility
Guest Teacher: Daryl Van Tongeren, Ph.D., is a Professor of Psychology and Director of the Frost Center for Social Science Research at Hope College. His latest book, Done: How to Flourish after Leaving Religion, explores ways to find meaning and experience growth after undergoing religious change.
Musician: Sam Robbins (he/him) is often described as an “old soul singersongwriter.” A Nashville-based musician who adds a modern, upbeat edge to the storyteller-troubadour persona. He has gained recognition as one of the six 2021 winners of the Kerrville Folk Festival New Folk competition, and as the first to sing a Jim Croce song on The Voice. Sam released his second album “Bigger Than in Between” to critical acclaim in August 2022.
Music: Sam Robbins
Gathering Host: Beth Buelow
Music: Sam Robbins
Meditation: Nelleke Knarr
Moment of Silence
Readings/Teaching: Daryl Van Tongeren
I go by a field where once I cultivated a few poor crops. It is now covered with young trees, for the forest that belongs here has come back and reclaimed its own. And I think of all the effort I have wasted and all the time, and of how much joy I took in that failed work and how much it taught me. For in so failing I learned something of my place, something of myself, and now I welcome back the trees.
—Wendell Berry
A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.”
-Stephen Crane
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.
—Sara Teasdale
The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
”In return for the odor of my jasmine, I’d like all the odor of your roses.”
“I have no roses; all the flowers in my garden are dead.”
“Well then, I’ll take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.”
The wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
“What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?”
—Antonio Machado
Music: Sam Robbins
Gathering Host: Beth Buelow
Music: Sam Robbins
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