I write a lot of articles, blogs, and sermons. As a result, I sometimes hit a bit of writer’s block and when that happens I turn to my social media following. Social media is a mixed tool but sometimes it’s a blessing, and it can be an interesting way to see where we collectively are. So, I asked: what would you like to see me talk about? What do you want my take on?
And about every third comment was on resilience.
We’re exhausted. I think it’s okay to acknowledge that. Those of us who are desperately trying to build a better, more just, more peaceful, more ecologically sound world are taking a hit pretty much every day. So much of what our predecessors built is being systematically dismantled. The progress we all gave so much for is being stripped away. The victories we do have right now are too frequently pyrrhic, or mixed. A gain paired with a loss. A win, but one with strings attached. Of course we’re feeling disheartened. Of course our reserves of resilience feel strained.
Like many Pagans, I am a student of history and mythology. The anchors of my spirituality live in very old stories, and in cultures that lived and loved and learned long before the coming of Christianity. So I know an Underworld journey when I see one. And friends, that’s exactly where we are right now.
The first thing you should know about Underworld journeys is that they are universally unpleasant. From culture to culture, these myths talk about what we gain when we feel like we’ve lost everything. One of the most famous Underworld journeys is The Descent of Inanna, a Sumerian myth dating from somewhere between 1900 and 1600 BCE. In this story, Inanna, a powerful goddess known by the title the Queen of Heaven journeys into the Underworld to visit her recently widowed sister, Ereshkigal.
Inanna begins her journey arrayed in splendor: fine garments, a crown upon her head, jewelry, and carrying a scepter of office. As she passes the different gates along her journey, she is systematically stripped of all these things. She finally enters the throne room of Ereshkigal “naked and bowed low.” A powerful goddess brought to her knees. And at this moment, without her tools and finery, her sister strikes her dead.
But the story doesn’t end there. Inanna’s faithful servant calls for aid, and Inanna is revived. Brought back from the dead. But escaping the Underworld is not so simple as walking away. Someone must take her place there. Inanna discovers that her lover, Dumuzi, is not mourning her death and is instead enjoying his place on her throne. And so a deal is struck: Dumuzi and his sister will each spend half a year in the Underworld, creating an explanation for the seasons. Inanna will return to the living world unencumbered.
It’s a good story, even after three thousand years. This is one of my favorite aspects of mythology. Many things change, but people? People remain largely the same. So stories from long ago can still be relevant.
One interpretation of this story (and there are many potential interpretations) is that Inanna encounters her own shadow, the darkness to her light, there in the Underworld. Indeed, Inanna is partially responsible for the death of Ereshkigal’s late husband – some of what happens to Inanna is a result of her own poor choices.
And for a time, the shadow wins. But the story does not end with death and darkness. Inanna is saved by the love others bear her. And when she returns, it is with more wisdom gained from some hard lessons. She learns that someone she loved and trusted betrayed her. The Inanna that emerges from the Underworld is not the Inanna that began the journey. She gained discernment, knowledge, and perhaps a better understanding of the consequences of her own actions.
We travel the gates ourselves now. We’re losing rights and progress rather than jewelry, but those rights are our power just as Inanna’s items of office were hers. I don’t know if we’ve reached the throne room yet, or if there are more gates to come before we arrive there. I suspect we will lose more before we are reborn there in the darkness.
So how does this relate to resilience if the part of the story we’re in is still pretty grim?
Resilience is not a matter of blind optimism or naive high-vibes-only thinking. It is a reserve of strength. The ability to respond when something happens, particularly if that something is challenging. Strength is rooted in many places, and when we are on an Underworld journey, those places are not the ones we’re used to sourcing from. So rather than hanging onto the idea that everything is going to somehow be okay again, I’d like to ask you these questions instead.
Who loves you right now? Who are the people who will endure hardship with and for you? The people you will endure hardship with and for in return? Imagine their faces for a moment. Feel the connection between you. The power and strength in that love.
What new wisdom has this path given you? What have you learned so far that you did not know before?
One new lesson I learned is that people are more afraid, and operating more from a place of scarcity thinking and fear than I ever suspected. And I’ve learned that frightened people are terrifyingly easy to manipulate.
What do the lessons of these gates of shadow inspire? What new ways of thinking emerge from these hard won pieces of knowledge?
How do these insights change your approach?
I’m thinking a lot about fear these days: the way it takes root, the way scarcity and lack of access turn decent people away from their better judgment. I think I’m seeing more of the full picture, the way the whole system contributed to where we are now. I’m learning that the way out of this Underworld journey will involve profound change if we’re going to truly create a better world. We can’t go back. And forward is going to look different than what came before if we’re going to be successful.
Many times, my own resilience comes from deeper understanding and the way that deeper understanding changes what I’m trying to do in the world.
So. Who are your people? What are you learning? What does that mean for the journey forward?
The story of Vasilia and the Baba Yaga comes to us from Russia. The Baba Yaga is a terrifying magical crone who lives in the forest in a house that has chicken feet. The fence of the Baba Yaga’s land is made of human bones, decorated with skulls whose eyes glow like lanterns.
Vasilia is a little girl when her mother dies. But before her mother passes, she gives Vasilia a magical doll along with her blessing. If the doll is given something to eat, it will help its owner out of trouble. After the death of his wife, Vasilia’s father marries a woman who already has two daughters, and the structure of the Cinderella story unfolds for a while. Vasilia’s stepmother doesn’t like her.
Eventually, the stepmother begins sending a now-mostly-grown Vasilia into the forest near to where the Baba Yaga lives. The doll continues to protect her, taking her on safe paths through the woods. So, frustrated, the stepmother and her daughters send Vasilia directly to the Baba Yaga’s territory to obtain fire.
Baba Yaga rides out into the forest on her flying mortar and agrees to Vasilia’s request for fire, but not without cost. Vasilia must work as a servant for the Baba Yaga. She is trapped inside the fence of human bones.
The Baba Yaga gives Vasilia many difficult tasks, but with the help of the doll and some of her own cleverness, Vasilia completes them all. Eventually, the Baba Yaga asks Vasilia how she is accomplishing so much, and Vasilia tells the Baba Yaga about the doll, and her mother’s blessing. The Baba Yaga then throws Vasilia out, rejecting those who are blessed. But she gives her a parting gift – one of the skulls with burning eyes. When Vasilia returns home, the skull burns her stepmother and stepsisters to ashes.
Vasilia buries the skull and moves in with an old woman. She takes up spinning and weaving to make a living. The fabric she produces is so fine that the king himself commissions her to make his clothing. And, of course, eventually falls in love with her.
This Underworld story emphasises another thread of resilience that is so important: the works and blessings of those who came before us. These myths and stories exist because passages through darkness, Underworld journeys, are just a part of the human experience. We can be betrayed by those who have influence over us. We can end up trapped for a time. But the blessings we carry with us have their own power, and this is another source of resilience.
Who also fought the battles you are fighting now, or laid the path to past victories? Which cultural ancestors are the ones whose work we are building on? What are their stories? From Susan B Anthony to Martin Luther King Junior to Marsha P Johnson to Harvey Milk to countless other powerful figures in the story of this land and its path toward justice, we are continuing the work of those who came before us. Their blessing and strength travels with us, like a doll carried in a pocket. A secret reserve of strength.
These battles are not new. It is simply our turn to fight them, just as those who came before us did. This Underworld is not unique. It is like many others, but it is ours to navigate.
Think for a moment: whose blessings are you carrying through this time? What story of a cultural ancestor is one you hold dear? Whose words do you turn to in order to find strength?
Another lesson from the story of Vasilia is about skills. Through her labors, Vasilia learned to make fabric so fine that a king fell in love with her over it. What skills are you learning here in the Underworld? What work have you undertaken that did not exist before?
One place I draw resilience from is the way we’re learning, organizing, and cooperating in new ways. I’m watching new people step in to help, new structures for supporting each other appear, and new platforms for communication arise. Art, science, passion, drive, and cooperation are taking on new forms. Will these skills make a king fall in love with us? Probably not. But they will support us as we build the world to come.
I know it’s hard right now. I know we’re tired from this passage through shadow. That is unfortunately a part of what makes a true Underworld journey. We come to the edge of hopelessness. We see the bottom of our reserve of resilience drawing close. We stand naked and defenseless in the throne room. We are trapped behind the fence of bone. And so we must follow the path of the myths and folklore laid down by our ancestors. We must reach deep into memory and story for different sources of resilience.
Connect with those you love, and with those who love you. Consider what you’re learning, and what those insights and wisdom mean for the path ahead. Dream bigger, taking inspiration from your hard-won knowledge. Consider the new skills you’ve developed. Apply them wisely. Look to the past, to the blessings and labor of those who fought similar battles to our own. Read their stories and know that you truly do stand on the shoulders of giants. It is our turn to take up their mantle. Wear it proudly and know you are part of the legacy of light.
And one day, if we’re smart, and connected to our allies, and skilled, and just a bit lucky, someone will tell our story when they are facing their own Underworld journey. One day, we will pass this well of resilience on to the next generation, and our own immortality will live in the story of survival and overcoming adversity that is told. We will be part of the story of the Underworld, and more importantly, we will be part of the story of what comes after.
And maybe read some folklore and mythology. It’s a lot more than just children’s stories.
This sermon was first offered to the Unitarian Universalists of Gettysburg on Sunday, July 19th, 2026.
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