In times gone by, erstwhile blood donation drives would use the phrase, Give until it hurts! A clever way to encourage needle-shy people to take the leap, knowing that their short term pain could mean a life saving blessing to someone else out there.

Give until it hurts. This does not sound like an invitation to generosity to me, not today. Not when many (most?) Americans are feeling the financial pinch of the rising cost of food, clothing, electricity, gasoline, heating oil, medications, insurance policies, doctor co-pays, and on, and on, and on.

It puts me in mind of a poem by the Somali poet, Warsan Shire, the closing stanza of which reads,

“i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
it answered
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.”

Does that resonate with you, faithful travelers?

What is ours to do in this moment when so much of when so much of the pain is happening everywhere, everywhere, everywhere around us? How do we counter the death-dealing culture of cruelty that is too much with us? We turn the tides with a revolution rooted in Love. Let us practice turning toward one another; and let us give until some small thing heals.

Many of our congregations are winding down their church years and members are heading off to summer plans. If your summer vacation or day trip takes you near the New England coastline, chances are good that one of our UU congregations will be nearby. From Shoreline in Connecticut to Rockland, Maine and dotted across Rhode Island and Southeastern Massachusetts in between, include an intentional visit to a sibling church and add a few dollars to their offering plate. Let someone there know where you are visiting from, and strengthen the covenant between and among our congregations that invites mutual support.

Some families in your congregation may find that summer camp for the children is not in their budget this year. Could your congregation open its doors, even one day a week, for families to drop in for story time or crafts?

How many of your church’s members are doing home gardens this year? Together, could there be a plan to collect a portion of each garden’s harvest to send to the local food pantry?

When our families, our neighborhoods, our nation hurts everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, our greatest power to heal becomes possible through collective care. Mutual aid and collective care are only possible when whole communities of people come together and give what they can. Whether that is increasing my pledge by $5 a month, or carving out two hours every Saturday to pull weeds, or making a point to check in with someone we know could use a listening ear — each of us has a healing gift to ease the pain, the fear, the loneliness around us.

As summer begins in earnest across New England, we invite you into a spirit of healing generosity. Have faith that your financial gift, no matter how small, will multiply when joined with others’. Believe that your time, freely offered in service, will be well spent. Know thatyou have a gift (yes, you!) that is needed to heal the world — or at least your little corner of it. And may you receive blessings back, and know the healing return on your investment.

“Little by slow,” my colleague Meck Groot used to say.

Little by slow, insisting on the generosity of collective care, we get through all of this, all of this, all of this - together.