Minister’s Letter — January 2006

I recently came across a short poem by Matthew Arnold that seems perfect for New Year’s celebration. It is titled,

“Youth’s Agitations.”

“When I shall be divorced some 10 years hence, from this poor present self which I am now;
When youth has done its tedious vain expense Of passions that forever ebb and flow.
Shall I not joy youth’s heats are left behind, and breathe more happy in an even clime?
Ah, no! for then I shall begin to find A thousand virtues in this hated time.
Then I shall wish its agitations back And all its thwarting currents of desire;
Then I shall praise the heat which then I lack,
And call this hurrying fever, generous fire,
And sight that one thing only has been lent
To youth and age in common-discontent.”

All stages of human life have one thing in common-discontent. We certainly have our share in this early segment of the 21st century! I sometimes write about my latest outrage and forward it to you by email as though that were the best way to vent my indignation. Whether that catalyst of our discontent is the natural devastation of a hurricane in the Gulf Coast, the most recent terrorist crime, some political policy arrogantly invoked, or the size of our waistlines, we want the future to be different from the past. But this poses a deeper question about the course of time and history.

Who or what determines how, if at all, the future will be different? God? Nobody? Or you and me?

In one of his other poems, “A Buried Life,” Matthew Arnold describes the trajectory of our discontent when he says that we have…

A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course; A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild. So deep in us– to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.”

As we stand on the cusp of a new year, this is what we want to know: from where do our lives come and to where do they go? At this time of year, I put this question, in a more vernacular vein of course, to some of my psychotherapy clients. “OK,” I say, “you have a new year ahead of you. What’s your greatest discontent? What do you plan to do about it? What’s your vision?”

And then they either get excited and invigorated or they get depressed. Then we deal with that. I ask, “Well, how badly do you really want to change things? What blocks you?”

I ask the same of my self. I ask the same of you. “What is your greatest discontent? What needs to change? How?” (Get ready to make a list!)

I ask the same of all of us as a religious community—members, leaders, Board of Trustees: What is your discontent? What needs to be addressed and changed and turned around and made better and more fulfilling and promising so that we might become more vital as a Fellowship, more nurturing of the soul, and of more service to the community? (Make a list!)

And on the socio/political level, well the pickings are plentiful. Can someone tell me plainly why and how our government continues to reject environmental measures that will clean our air, fields and streams and conserve our energy? Will someone plainly explain how we can continue to cut taxes, cut services to the poor and elderly, enrich the rich, increase our deficit and remain a caring and equitable society?

Here’s the point, when it comes to things that matter most, discontent is a good thing. It’s what Arnold called our fire and restless force, and it impels us to create a future that is different from the past. Our discontent impassions us! From discontent, blooms passion. So let this be the year of discontent and passion! Of course, both can kindle destructive and irresponsible actions as well. As Yeats put it: The best lack all convictions, while the worst are full of passionate intensity. Without losing its intensity, passion needs to be grounded and conscientious.

Here’s my suggestion: take some time to identify the sources of your own discontent. What are you unhappy with in your life and at the Fellowship and in the world? Write down your causes of discontent. Rank them, with the most important one at the top. Then ask yourself: How badly do I really want to change things?

The record of the future will show either that we responded to the fire of our discontent, or we did not. Either we did something constructively and compassionately or we withdrew. Either we dealt with our waistlines or we did not. Either we worked together to keep our religious community nurturing and vital or we did not. Either we advanced the cause of justice and compassion, or we did not. May the record of the future show that we did—you and me!

Happy NewYear!

Jim Covington