Once I was asked if my church "believed in the Bible." I gave my standard answer for such questions; "sort of." Then, since I knew what this person wanted to hear, I clarified, "We find much of power in the Bible but we certainly don't believe that it is the direct word of the creator of the universe." This person looked at me and asked incredulously, "Then what can you preach on every Sunday?" At that time I said something about speaking on what was universally true and good, but this person wanted to know what texts I used; what sacred words served as the seeds of my sermons? Well, it is not always a text but brothers and sisters today we draw from the most ancient of texts, the book of folk-tales; specifically I preach from the Gospel of the Goats, Chapter One through Three. We want to cross bridges safely into blessed lands and the good news is that to cross the dangerous bridges of life we need one another. We need the strength of other goats and the courage that comes from knowing they are there.

As far as we can tell the story was originally Norwegian, but versions are told by Swedes, Germans, Danes, Americans and others. In some versions the troll is the protagonist and the story cautions against greed. In some the goats are called Billy Goats, meaning that they are all brothers, but I think for certain that at least one was a sister. A Unitarian Universalist sermon I distinctly remember was called something like "The Gospel of the Goats." In it the minister argued that Jesus had chosen the wrong animal for his parables and that goats were far better than sheep; they were tougher, more independent, more willing to explore and wander on their own in rocky places to seek out new pastures.  So I hold up goats today as an image of the faithful in the Three Goats Gruff.

As I heard it, there are three goats with the last name of Gruff, who live on one side of a dangerous gorge filled with rushing water and tumbled boulders. On the other side are richer pastures, new grass and flowers growing. The only way across is a bridge and when the littlest goat decides to cross he finds that bridge is guarded by a terrible troll. "Who dares cross my bridge?" roars the troll as he clambers onto it, "I am hungry, and I will eat you up!" But the littlest goat, looking over his shoulder and seeing that he is all alone, thinks quickly and says, "Oh, no, what a silly idea. If you eat me I am so small and thin that I will only make you hungrier." Well, trolls, as you may know, are not too smart. So the troll pauses and the goat continues, "But look at my sister, she is much bigger than I. She is a full meal size. I know she will be along any minute now but if you eat me she won't think of crossing. So, don't waste your time with me and wait for her instead." The troll says, "Yes, I am too hungry for a mere snack. Be gone with you!" The littlest goat crosses and the troll hides. Soon the big sister comes traipsing across the bridge (trip, trap, trip, trap) and the Troll jumps up roaring, "Who dares cross my bridge? I am hungry, and I will eat you up!" But the sister thinks quickly and says, "Oh no, I run a lot and am very lean. You would use as many calories trying to kill me as you would get from eating me, even if you got all the marrow." The troll is quite troubled by this logic and he squints his beady little eyes at her. "But look," she chimes up "my big brother is coming and you can clearly see that he is supersized. He will make you so full you won't ever need to eat again." Well the troll is impressed by this and grumbles "Be off with you," as he climbs back under the bridge. Finally the biggest goat comes traipsing along, trip, trap, trip, trap, and again the troll roars "Who dares cross my bridge? I am hungry, and I will eat you up!" Immediately the Biggest goat says, "I think my horns will fill your belly, and my bounding will break your bones." With that he rushed forward, head down. His heavy head smashed into the troll tossing him heavily into the churning cataract, dislodging boulders to rumble down the river and grind the troll to a pulp. And the three goats Gruff lived happily ever after.

So the first message of this story is that sometimes we must cross a bridge. Sometimes we want to cross and sometimes we are forced by circumstance. Perhaps we have held a job for a long time and then we lose that job. We must cross over to another. If we have been a parent for many years and then our children grow up and move out, we must cross over to a new relationship with those children and a new image of what it means to be a parent. Or we may lose a child and must make a difficult crossing. When we graduate from High School, or from college, when we get married, or divorced, when bad habits must be dropped or good ones no longer serve us, as when we retire, a bridge must be crossed.  Even when we pass through the changes of puberty, or when our bodies suddenly seem to age and fall apart, we must move from one way of being to another across a bridge of time. In a sense all life is a bridge between the unknown before birth and after death. The last words of Stonewall Jackson were "Let us cross the river and rest beneath the trees." So, death is the final crossing.

Though we know there are bridges to cross we also know that there are dangers in every transition. The boulders are down there, and the waters that could sweep us away. So, sometimes we resist crossing. I think of many who have trouble letting go of their adolescent selves instead of growing into a more complete adult, who resist being responsible. It is good advice, "don't cross a bridge till you come to it," but eventually we must cross. We must make a change, live differently than we have done before. We often are not sure what is on the other side, but we know we must cross.

I heard Jessie Jackson asked what he was thinking of on Tuesday night, the night that a new U.S. President was elected. He gave a practiced yet powerful answer, he said that he thought of all those who had given their lives to tearing down the walls of injustice and segregation, "Jackie Robinson tore down a wall, Rosa Parks tore down a wall, Martin Luther King Jr. tore down a wall, we who worked for decades on civil rights tore down those walls. But now, Barack Obama is building a bridge." Some may fear where it will take us but it is a bridge our whole nation must cross, together.

Crossing bridges is not always easy and as we hear the trip, trap, trip of our footsteps we may feel how very alone we are. No matter how many people surround us we are at some level alone. You must face your mistake, your job, your cancer on your own. In time of change we often find that our sense of self and our sense of security are threatened. For instance, when we come out of the closet, or publicly affirm rights and respect for those who come out of the closet, we may feel that we are alone and vulnerable. Many of us have experienced growing up in a family that did not question their religion. When we began asking questions we may have felt we were losing family. Then it is that we need to know we are part of some larger movement; across. We need to look back over our shoulders to remember that others have crossed before, or there wouldn't be a bridge. Others will cross after us, and we must keep the way open. If we fail to cross, think how much harder it will be for others, as the littlest goat said.

Always we are part of humanity, and as Unitarian Universalists we are part of a global lineage, of those who affirm that all can live well on this good earth, or at least can make life a little better. These others give us courage, and we give courage back, amplified. As a poet said, "even in the wilderness you are not alone." That is often why this church feels like a family to us. I recently heard of the successful Christian musician from Indiana, Ray Boltz, who announced that he was gay. In an interview he was asked if he felt that he had lost his faith. Instead he said that now he felt God was closer than ever before. Because Ray was no longer living with intense levels of self hatred and judgment, he could hear more fully the gospel message of love, forgiveness, and true grace. Epictetus, one of the Greek Stoics, put it this way, "When you close your doors, and make darkness within, remember... you are not alone. God is within, your genius is within, and what need do they have of light to see what you are doing?" It helps to cross a bridge if we see that the grass is greener on the other side, or it is a rainbow bridge arcing to the Hall of the Gods. It helps even more to know that though we cross alone, we are not utterly alone, but one of many.

However, once we get the courage to cross the bridge, then we must face the trolls. There are people who try to keep us from changing. Sometimes there are people who we might like to kick off the bridge, but trolls are not people. They are attitudes, habits of thought. The most dangerous trolls are in our own souls, those parts of our self that say, "You can't do this." They say, "The crossing is too dangerous, run back." At first we must work to just quiet those voices. It takes practice. If we are trying to tell the troll of dependency on alcohol or drugs that we refuse to let it kill us, we may at first feel like the littlest goat, very weak and powerless. Perhaps we must face racism, or ageism, or sexism in our work or social circle; then we must find our inner genius and courage. Each person who risked their lives or reputations to expand civil rights had someone else to inspire them, Jesus, or Frederick Douglass. Everyone who has defended the vital importance of science for the well being of all humanity has had someone bigger to inspire them; Maria Mitchell, or Marie Curie. Perhaps we quiet the troll voices by saying "don't destroy me, wait for someone bigger." The result is that someday we might even be that someone with horns of wisdom and knowledge formidable enough to destroy the trolls once and for all. There are statues of Moses with two goat horns. Horns are a symbol of wisdom, age and power. These are the things that help us face the trolls, to talk them down or hit them hard.

Then, we who have crossed bridges must look for others. We must be there, visibly grazing for those who would cross after us. Most youth in UU congregations drift away, and fail to become adult UUs. They fall from the bridge to adulthood because they fail to connect with an adult in the congregation who will remind them why they cross. They fail to find recognition or connection or identification with people who have crossed the bridge. Thus we have made 'Bridging Ceremonies.' These are opportunities to acknowledge that there is a bridge from being a UU Youth to being a UU young adult and we don't want any to fall off or be eaten up. We who have crossed must encourage the others, knowing how difficult it is. We must stand before them literally or figuratively.

The bridge is what gets you over the worst terrors of change. The community is the fellowship of goats that reminds you why you cross and helps you reach the other side, by strengthening your wits with all the resources available. The role of the religious community is to cross bridges, to help others cross, and then to live happily ever after in the fields of promise on the other side.  Sometimes we must cross together. Sometimes no one can do it alone for the troll is too big, created by the systems and habits of an entire culture, but that is another story. This one is about the times we cross alone.

Oh, I know, sometimes there is no bridge, so then we must build one. Or as Paul Simon wrote back in 1969: "When you're weary, feeling small / When tears are in your eyes, / I will dry them all / I'm on your side / When times get rough / And friends just can't be found // Like a bridge over troubled water / I will lay me down // When you're down and out / When you're on the street / When evening falls so hard / I will comfort you / I'll take your part / When darkness comes / And pain is all around / Like a bridge over troubled water / I will lay me down." The bridge holds the goat up, but the goat must still face the troll alone, the goat must face the fear of troubled water and cross. So it is that we must be the bridge people, showing how to get from trouble to hope, showing how to get from close-minded bigotry to tolerance, acceptance, and celebration of diversity.

I have few regrets in my life but once I was in a dream interpretation group with several others including a married couple with children. During the group we talked about wanting to do more to end war and the threat of nuclear weapons. After the group ended I saw them less, and when the woman decided to get arrested in protest of our violent and militaristic policies I heard about it, but did nothing. To paraphrase Jesus, She was in jail and I did not visit her. Later, when I saw her and she spoke about how hard it had been to make that choice, for her to cross the bridge from inaction to being an activist, I felt her disappointment in me. I felt regret that I had encouraged her in to do something, but when she crossed that bridge I was not there nor was I anywhere to be seen by the trolls of resistance.

In ministry I try my best to be there, when children are born, when illness or difficulty stops us. I want to be a goat, saying "have courage, be smart, and I will cross after you." But I am only one person and there are hundreds of you. So I ask each of you to also be goats. Cross the bridges, and then watch to see that others can do the same until one of us, or the power of all of us together, toss that troll right into the cataract, and we can live in peace and justice, happily ever after.