Searching for Grounding

Birdie Cunningham, MA

Director of Congregational Care

August 24, 2025

Text: Romans 12:9-18

As I have been preparing for this morning and giving my first Sunday Sermon, I have been holding and reflecting on three things:

One, my son Oliver, who was confirmed last Spring, asked me the other day how I was feeling about preaching this morning. And I said, “Oh, Oliver, I have many emotions; I am nervous, excited, anxious…so many emotions and at the same time feel as though there is something within to say.” He looked at me and said, “Mom, from my experience in confirmation, when I spoke up front, I noticed how much everyone cared about me and wanted me to grow and succeed.” I thank you already for all the care and grace you give.

Secondly, I, like you, have sat in the pews, for 20, 25 years listening to ministers who have shaped my faith, my spirituality, and who I have become. Standing here in this place where Jim, Cathy, Jeff, Paula, Carla, Seth, Beth, DeWayne, and JT have preached is humbling, and one of the biggest honors of my life. I don’t take this honor lightly. Thank you for offering me the trust to stand before you.

And lastly, at seminary this summer I took a preaching class…thank goodness! And a pivotal moment—a learning from that course that resonated with me so deeply—is that when I go to our scared text to find meaning-making and wisdom and hope, I bring you, our congregation, with me. The stories you have shared with me and the fabric of our community are on my heart. I am not alone in this. You are woven into this. You, me, and the Divine are woven into the process of forming a sermon, and that feels so very sacred. I am truly filled with gratitude to be doing this sacred work with you. Thank you.

Let us now prepare for this morning:

Will you take a breath with me as we seek to find wisdom from our sacred text? Perhaps placing a hand over our heart, we inhale together and exhale.

~

Did you know that another name for a whirlwind is a dust devil? I have been searching and searching and searching, trying to find a word to make sense of these times we are living in. The word whirlwind kept popping into my head, and I turned to the dictionary to look it up. Hence, dust devil. Kinda feels like a whirlwind these days, in a sense—can’t you picture it standing in place and flying around you swirling? Another injustice, oh look there goes another human right, oh, and there goes another safety net for the marginalized, right?!? I know you see them, and I know you can name them as well. There are so many, swirling and swirling. But is whirlwind the right word?

Then there is the hum of emotion plus energy—the hum inside of me, and perhaps inside of you, too. I have heard about it from you and have witnessed it. I have even seen it get released at times; I hear you. The hitch to the anger, the anxiety, the fear, the hopelessness, the doubt, the sadness, the being scared, the being overwhelmed, and more sadness—you can name them as well.

Remember when, back in the day, the TV channel would stop broadcasting and the screen would turn to static fuzz? It was as though the TV was on, but the channel was off. It reminds me of the hum inside and around us. Is that what this feels like? Are we like that TV that is never fully off—part of us always feeling on even, when we are wanting to be off? There is just so much happening.

I keep turning to logic and metaphors to try and make sense of this time we are in, but what if we just can’t? What if we have run out of words to explain what is happening AND what it is like to live in these days? Have we outlived our language to explain all that is happening and how we are feeling in the middle of all of this? What if our metaphors can’t fully comprehend what’s happening around us, to us, within us?

And

There is very little, if anything, I can say that can provide an answer or solution to the dismantling or whirlwind to all that is happening. For I am walking though these days with you. These hours, this unraveling of moments and emotions.

So instead, let’s go searching for grounding. Where might solid ground be?

Turning to our sacred text, Paul in Romans, writes a letter to the Christians in Rome. Within this letter is a section that has been referred to as “how to live in community/” Others refer to it as the human ethics for Christians. How might this section provide for us even knowing that nowadays not everyone is living by these ethics? Still, how might they speak to us in this time?

Hear these words. Romans 12, verses 9 – 18.

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly, do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.”

It’s easy to take them in, right? It’s dreamy, as a huge sum of wishes, maybe we even felt a feeling of the distant land of peace and hope. Oh, but how quickly our mind brings us back into our reality and brushes them away!

What would happen, though, if we broke them down verse by verse and held them. Perhaps cupped them softly and tenderly, quieted our mind, meditated on one verse—one verse or one part of the verse for moments or for a day or two or more? Hold them in your heart, in your mind, in your soul, embody them. Walk around in the world with them.

Try it with me, starting at the beginning, “Let love be genuine.” Hold that. How does it land in your heart? What truth do you hear in your mind, in your soul?

Perhaps you think that one is easy; try this one, “Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.” What might be found if you examine it from all sides? Or this one, “Weep with those who weep.” Oh, to name and feel all the grief. Or this one, “Rejoice with those who rejoice.” There is rejoicing even happening among all of this whirlwind, I promise you. What if you embodied the rejoicing for a time?

I am not claiming this is the answer to the time we are living in. My invitation is to let these words that have lived for years and years—that our ancestors have turned to—let them speak to you, let them provide a grounding for you, let them be held so quietly that the wisdom inside of you arises. It may be a new understanding, or nourishment, or energy to lift your foot to continue to walk forward in the work of justice, or a deeper feeling of the Divine’s love, or a further human connection with humanity, or moments of clarity and hope and peace.

And I think about Plymouth, how in this time of transition and unknowns as we carve out our future together, how might these words, if we center ourselves with them, how might they guide us? What might we find in their wisdom to lead us and hold us together as a community in the journey ahead?

The invitation is waiting. I have added these words from Romans into the bulletin for you to take with you and use in the days and weeks ahead. May they provide for you, and us, grounding as we gather what we need in this time.

May it be so. Amen.