The Blessing and Grace of Water ©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
September 8, 2024

There are so many ways to talk about water, to think about water. We often consider water as a wellspring, as a source; a still pool that grounds us. But water can also be a river: flowing, ever changing, never the same from one instant to the next, and inviting us to journey with it. There is the mystery of fog, suddenly enveloping us, and just as suddenly receding. The sudden arrival of rain, drops at first, and then a drenching. And of course, the ocean; restless, inspiring and intimidating. Water – life-giving, and yet also, life-taking. We can die without water. And water, too much water, can destroy as well.

We don’t often think about water as a blessing, and of course, water’s role in offering blessings. But let’s think about it for a moment: all of us who have been baptized in a religious ceremony have been blessed with water. In many traditions, including our own, we use water in child dedication ceremonies. And in a few minutes, we are going to use water to bless our new trees.

Now, water is used to convey a blessing, and water itself is blessed. A few minutes ago we together blessed the water that we collected to symbolize the joining together of our religious community. Our Catholic friends use Holy Water, sanctified for use in numerous blessings.

Water is both a blessing, and it is blessed.

We can ask, what makes something blessed, or holy? Is it the words we say? And who can do it? You’ll remember that we blessed our water together, and that in fact, it was our worship associate, Holly, who led the litany of blessing, not the ordained person.

Did it work?

Yes, it worked. And I’ll share my theology of blessing with you – why I believe the blessing worked. To begin with, the act of our gathering together here this morning, and participating in a ritual together, either sharing water we brought from an important place, or water that we provided here, blessed our water. You, and I, and Holly, blessed it, by thinking about the water, holding it, and taking the time to recognize and acknowledge the value of it. We saw and felt the water. In that moment, by not taking the water for granted, we recognized the inherent holiness of the water.

My beliefs tell me that everything is part of the creation, and so contains within it something of the divine: a spark, a breath, some of the life force that surrounds us and nurtures us. The water is already holy. But the act of blessing awakens us to that holiness. We think of the water with gratitude. And so the water is blessed by our appreciation, our thanks.

Marilynne Robinson, in her novel Gilead, quoted an elderly minister who explained blessing this way: “There is a reality in blessing,” he said.… “It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is a power in that.” (p. 24)

Think of how we all bless this place. And you hear me refer to this sanctuary as sacred. But what makes it sacred? We love the old wood, and the design, and all the objects that live here. But what makes it sacred is the presence, over hundreds of years now, of all the people who have entered, who have sung and prayed and laughed and cried together. Thousands of people have blessed this space with their presence, as you are doing right now.

Our allee, equally old but suddenly brand new, has also been blessed this summer, by the hundreds of people coming to the Friday night concerts, by all the workers, and the neighbors who crisscross the space. And today we will bless the trees, to express our gratitude for them, and to wish them well that they might grow and live long and healthy lives.

So a blessing is both a recognition, a way of giving thanks, but it is also a way to wish someone or something well. “I see you,” we say when we bless someone or something. “I see you, and I wish you well.”

One of my final classes in seminary was taught by an older colleague who had been serving as a UU minister for over 30 years. He had a lot of wisdom to impart. And one day he talked about what exactly a minister does. There are many answers to that question. But Stephen emphasized one thing that day: that an important role of a minister is to offer blessings. To wish you well. To tell you that you are seen, and cared for.

Maybe you’ve noticed over the years that I always offer the benediction at the end of services. I don’t share it. I took Stephen’s words to heart that day, and I have never forgotten. When I leave here someday, it will be the last service I offer you.

But for today, let’s bless our beautiful new trees. If you want, we can take some water out behind the church to the three young maples there as well. And let’s not stop there: go forth from here understanding that you have the power to bless everything that calls to you. Our food. The water we drink. Our homes and loved ones. The whole world. May you go forth and live lives of blessing.

Blessed Be.
Amen.