{"id":5074,"date":"2021-06-29T16:37:53","date_gmt":"2021-06-29T20:37:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/?post_type=ctc_sermon&#038;p=5074"},"modified":"2021-06-29T16:37:54","modified_gmt":"2021-06-29T20:37:54","slug":"nomadland","status":"publish","type":"ctc_sermon","link":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/messages\/nomadland\/","title":{"rendered":"Nomadland"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>Rev. Lee shares her last message from her Philadelphia home about the movie Nomadland. This film focuses on the demise of a company town after the industry supporting it shuts down. She reflects on the fact that she\u2019s about to move into a place that once used to be a company town too. She reflects on how the story of a company town suddenly closing down speaks to our own pandemic experiences, when the things we thought would always be there were unexpectedly taken away. She also shares a mindfulness exercise from the Foothills Unitarian congregation in Colorado.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Nomadland<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<p>START OF TRANSCRIPT<br>[00:00:00] Speaker1<br>The following is a message from Wellspring&#8217;s congregation. Good morning, Wellspring&#8217;s. It&#8217;s really good to be with you today,<br>especially because this is my last message coming to you from sunny south Philadelphia before my move this week. Here, I&#8217;ll give<br>you a little sneak peek. This is the current state of my apartment. Doesn&#8217;t look too bad from here. It&#8217;s about to get a lot worse the next<br>couple of days. But I&#8217;m glad that I got to share one more message with you all from the spot, the spot that I never expected to share<br>any messages with you from, huh? This morning, we&#8217;re continuing our Spirit Flix message series for the summer where we find the<br>meaning in movies, films, TV shows, any story that comes across our screens. And today&#8217;s movie starts in some ways, 10 years ago<br>when a sheetrock plant was shut down in a town called Empire, Nevada, and a whole town went with it. A company town with<br>company housing owned by the plant, a town that had been there for 88 years, was shut down along with it. The true story of Empire,<br>Nevada, is blended with the fictional story in this movie of a woman named Fern. Fern is a widow in her 60s whose husband worked<br>at that plant before his death, Fern loses her husband. She loses her job in the town. She loses her entire community. Six months<br>after the shutdown of that plant, the town&#8217;s zip code is discontinued. It had been there for 88 years and now it was gone practically<br>overnight. The story of Empire, Nevada is real. And even though Fern is fictionalized, her story is based on the true stories of a<br>growing segment of our population in this country, elders in particular, who find themselves unable to make ends meet on their Social<br>Security benefits, who never made enough for their own savings.<br>[00:02:28] Speaker1<br>Apart from that program in the first place and also other people of all different ages and generations and stages of life who have been<br>left out in the cold, as many corporations provide low wages without benefits, gig work that comes in short bursts and is unstable.<br>And our country&#8217;s safety net fails to pick up the slack and support that that leaves behind for people. The Oscar winning movie<br>Nomad Land bends the genre as genres of dramatic and documentary filmmaking in this very fascinating way. They cast Real-Life<br>Nomads real life people who live in RV&#8217;s or vans who travel around to work and make ends meet where they can. These real life<br>people were cast alongside Frances McDormand playing the fictional Fern to tell this story in a fittingly complex way, with a mixture of<br>bold fantasy and harsh reality, the mix of pride and also necessity in this way of life, the failures of the systems and also the<br>unbelievable resilience of people realizing that the best choice available to them is not a life that they ever expected and that they<br>have to create new ways and new communities to take care of each other and to survive. You know, right from the beginning, Fern&#8217;s<br>story made me reflect on my own family&#8217;s biography, my grandmother story, my grandfather on my mother&#8217;s side. My mother&#8217;s father<br>was a coal miner<br>[00:04:17] Speaker2<br>Who<br>[00:04:18] Speaker1<br>Lived just outside of Scranton, and he lived in company coal towns of northeastern Pennsylvania, most of which are now abandoned<br>places, ghost towns, just like the sort that Fern was forced to leave behind. Maybe somewhere in your family&#8217;s story, there is a similar<br>experience, or maybe there&#8217;s a similar story in the place where you live now. The irony for me, of course, as I thought about my<br>grandfather, is that I know his granddaughter will soon be living in one of those same towns that has been resurrected. In a way, the<br>apartment I&#8217;m moving to this week is in Phoenixville right, the former home of Phoenix Steel Corporation, which shut down three<br>years after I was born. The apartments I&#8217;m moving into were literally built on the site of the company and the town around it.<br>Phoenixville, of course, started as a company town just like Empire, Nevada. This corporation and Phoenixville created a whole new<br>kind of place on that land company owned housing for the workers and a post office and schools were built. But then the needs and<br>the circumstances of the economy shifted and things changed. And jobs disappeared, and it all makes some kind of sense<br>economically, right? But from the human view, it&#8217;s much more complicated and that complicated space is exactly where nomad land<br>stays, really. There&#8217;s a lot of interesting writing out there about this film, but none that spoke more to me than this quote from the film<br>critic Eileen Jones. She says, No mad land addresses both our profound fears of and our poignant longing for an alternative way of<br>life, an alternative way of living that makes sense given our nation&#8217;s ongoing state of calamity.<br>[00:06:29] Speaker1<br>It addresses both our profound fears of and our poignant longing for an alternative way of living. Put another way, we know that<br>things are not working. We see that our economy and our society leaves folks behind. And whenever we really are forced to<br>encounter that truth, many of us encounter it every day. We find a mix of emotions. We worry that we might lose what little security<br>and predictability we have if things change and we also feel this deep longing for a different way. There has to be a better way, as we<br>say, in our core beliefs here at Wellspring&#8217;s, we know that true fulfillment and happiness is not found in materialism. That is not what<br>fills the God shaped holes inside of us. But at the same time, we know that we need material to survive. Right. And surrounded by<br>material all the time. We need food. We need money in this culture, in this society to make it. And so there is a balance. But looking<br>around, it does seem like our world is pretty out of balance. It&#8217;s a tough line to walk and this film walks it unsparingly with its full<br>complications, which is why I think it&#8217;s so good, but also kind of unsatisfying in the end, because it leaves us, the audience, to wrestle<br>with the answers to those questions.<br>[00:08:11] Speaker1<br>Are these exploited people whose lives had been ruined by heartless economic and political systems that we follow in this film? Or<br>are they brave, resilient human beings finding new and maybe even better ways to form community, to offer support and live in<br>harmony with the Earth and with each other? And the tricky thing, of course, is that the answer is yes. The answer is yes. Both it&#8217;s all<br>of that and more whether they are real people or imagined characters. The folks in this movie are not right or wrong. They are<br>reflections of the world around us. They are a product of a society we&#8217;ve created. And each person in this film brings home all of that,<br>the complex emotional reality of the loss, material loss and resilience in the face of it, the pride that gets mixed up with grief and<br>anger and creativity. We see in Fern&#8217;s character at times her deep soul, joy and solitude as she journeys out into this natural world<br>around her and finds that it holds her and gives her something incredible. And then in other times, we see the intense pain and the<br>numbing sense of loneliness and her isolation, the fear of knowing that she is her own safety net, that she is responsible for building<br>whatever connections will sustain her. The desperation at times we see that she&#8217;s awkward some days as she fumbles around to<br>make these connections, and then another time she makes these beautiful, simple bonds with people.<br>[00:10:10] Speaker1<br>It&#8217;s very real and it shows how, no matter our circumstances, all of us are much, much more than caricatures in someone&#8217;s political<br>debate. No matter what our circumstances are, we&#8217;re all human and our systems may not treat people equally. But this film does, at<br>least in the way that it tells people stories. Which I think is why it&#8217;s such a powerful piece of art, one that helps us remember the truth,<br>that no moral value as a person comes along with success or failure, with money or no money with good circumstances are bad.<br>There&#8217;s no moral value assigned to that. We don&#8217;t always deserve what we receive. We don&#8217;t always receive what we deserve. And<br>maybe our system would do better to listen to people&#8217;s stories and that same kind of way to inject some of that basic human<br>compassion for each other. And remember that truth. And one of the articles I read about this film had what I thought was the perfect<br>title. It was called Nomad Land is a great and terrible film. And it means that in all the senses of those words, great and terrible, which<br>is exactly how I felt about it. One of the things that the article talked about was the residents of this movie for us as Americans right<br>now, not just because we&#8217;re grappling with these economic questions about our responsibilities to each other in this country, but also<br>it resonates because of what we&#8217;ve all just been through.<br>[00:11:56] Speaker1<br>And it matters in some ways the emotional reality of our gradual re-emergence from the shock of the covid-19 pandemic ferns story of<br>resilience, finding meaning after losing so much doing that was not easy for her. The film shows us how complicated and non-linear<br>that process is, filled with forwards and backwards motion, just as many terrible moments as beautiful moments. And the article said<br>this touches a nerve for us because, as I say, most of us have already gathered from our covid locked down experience that we&#8217;re no<br>good at this, that this is hard, the solitude, the lonely grind, the need to be self-reliant in the face of so much challenge and loss and<br>grief and calamity. And if there&#8217;s a way to infuse all that, as this movie does with beauty and art and hope and even grander,<br>imagining a different, smaller scale, touchable, more humane way of being. Well, the author says we sure need to know it now. We<br>could use that. Any process of making meaning of our lives after things have been all shaken up after great loss or betrayal, after a<br>community or a system we thought we could trust evaporates. This movie speaks to that reality, that experience, and it speaks to the<br>complex mix of truths that we find after we try to emerge from the wreckage, both at that re-emergence is possible and it can be done<br>and it can be beautiful<br>[00:13:59] Speaker2<br>And<br>[00:14:00] Speaker1<br>That it is disorderly. It works on its own time, reemerging and recreating and healing. It happens with our contribution, in fact, only<br>with our contribution and our consent, but not by our force. We want often for it to all work out at the speed of our brains, but it much<br>more often works at the speed of our heart. I was taking some time off last week to pack and prepare for my upcoming move, and I<br>have a bad habit or good habit, depending on your perspective, I guess, of attending other church services while I&#8217;m taking time off.<br>And I saw something so lovely in another congregation service last Sunday that actually reached out and asked if we could share the<br>same practice in our own service here at Wellspring&#8217;s this morning. My friend and colleague Sean Milburn from the Unitarian Church<br>in Fort Collins, Colorado, graciously agreed to offer it to us. It&#8217;s an invitation to a short visualization and meditation practice to help us<br>make some sense of where we are on our path to re-emergence after our world has been shaken up. Where are we on this road that<br>we&#8217;re traveling towards? A new way of living and being together. So I want to invite you now. I want to let Shawn take it from here for<br>the next few minutes. Just settle in, perhaps just to listen or to join in a moment of practice and reflect together,<br>[00:16:03] Speaker3<br>Take a few breaths and find a comfortable place if it feels good in your body to close your eyes. If that helps you focus in to your inner<br>world, invite you to do so. Want you to visualize yourself in the place. Where you wake up in the morning. When you&#8217;re all tucked in,<br>maybe alone, maybe with another human or an animal companion. Recall what the texture is of that place. But the sounds you<br>usually hear in the morning are maybe even the smells of that space. You&#8217;re kind of waking up, your eyes are still mostly closed, but<br>you can sort of make out the big shapes in the room as you&#8217;re kind of looking around so can bring into your mind kind of the furniture.<br>Windows and doors, as you&#8217;re kind of waking up. If you start to feel that heaviness of your eyelids start to lessen and you realize<br>you&#8217;ve had this really strange dream. A dream about a pandemic that spread across the globe. Forced us to shelter in place, to wear<br>masks, to work and learn from home. It changed everything for everyone. And you kind of scrub through the images that stand out<br>from your dream, which are your memories from the past year and a half. What are the moments that stand out for you? The big<br>moments. The beautiful ones. The hard ones. What defined these different moments? Did they feel real? Did they feel unreal? You&#8217;re<br>kind of taking in this dream that you&#8217;ve had feels both real and not. You look at the time and date, maybe it&#8217;s on a phone or on a<br>calendar, on a clock, and you realize that it&#8217;s the date before the pandemic began.<br>[00:18:38] Speaker3<br>The experience felt so real to you in that dream that you feel changed by it, but you also know it&#8217;s a dream. And somehow, you know,<br>it will remain a dream. This wasn&#8217;t a premonition that the pandemic is not going to happen, but you&#8217;ve had this visceral experience of<br>it happen. You are changed by what has occurred. And you feel compelled to document, to remember how you were changed, how<br>you were. Moved by this experience, and so you get out a pen and a paper, you write a note to yourself, what I want to remember is.<br>What you want to take from this dream that was so real, but not about how you want to live. You&#8217;re not preparing for what is to come<br>because it won&#8217;t come. And this visualization, there&#8217;s no covid pandemic. It&#8217;s about remembering something essential about living<br>and life itself. When you wake up from this dream. What is it that you want to remember? What are you going to say? Now that you<br>see yourself writing it down. This message to yourself. You feel the energy of your awake this start to blossom. When you&#8217;re done<br>writing, maybe kind of stretch and look around. Kind of shake yourself off. I invite you to come out of this visualisations. And if you feel<br>so moved, invite, I invite you to write what you wanted to remember from this experience in the chat. What is the lesson for you of this<br>dream, a time for how you&#8217;d want to live? How you want to keep on living?<br>[00:20:53] Speaker1<br>What do you want to remember from this time? Reverend Sean shared with me a few of the responses that he heard from his own<br>congregation right now. Maybe you&#8217;re sharing a few of your own in our chat here on YouTube. Sean said that<br>[00:21:16] Speaker2<br>The<br>[00:21:16] Speaker1<br>People in Colorado and his community wanted to remember that there&#8217;s a preciousness in outdoor spaces. He said one person said<br>they wanted to remember that they can retire, but they don&#8217;t have to wait. Another person wanted to remember that there is a fragility<br>always in what we have. Yet another wanted to remember that they got clean and sober in this time and they can keep doing that. A<br>lot of folks in his community just wanted to remember that life matters, that there&#8217;s a preciousness and being alive, or that they have<br>got what it takes to survive big, beautiful things to remember life giving and sustaining things. Sean said that these are all powerful<br>lessons from this time that we can live into or put another way in the film, Ferne reflects on the phrase that her father always used to<br>tell her. He would say what&#8217;s remembered lives. What&#8217;s remembered lives. You know, what we will remember from this time will<br>shape the road that we each travel from here on out, it will shape the world that we create for ourselves and the bigger world that we<br>help create for each other. It will shape who we greet, who we remember to see along that road, who we welcome into our circle of<br>care. And when we make conscious choices about what we will remember, then that is what will live. That is how we create the<br>legacy of this time. You know, as we begin to regather, I want to offer us some space to weave our community back together with this<br>same kind of purpose this afternoon in just about two hours, actually, we will all be together in the flesh for the first time as a full<br>community at Wellspring&#8217;s at the Montgomery School.<br>[00:23:42] Speaker1<br>And we&#8217;ll be together in song, which is just about the best freakin way I can imagine a gathering for the first time after what we have<br>been through these past 16 months. It&#8217;s going to be awesome. And then there will be more weeks after today&#8217;s reunion. There will be<br>more Sundays, there will be more months. There will be more years, God willing, decades even of our life together in this community.<br>There&#8217;s still so much road ahead, so as we get ready to regather weekly in the fall. I&#8217;m going to reinstate something I did before the<br>pandemic as we get ready for this starting in mid-July, after I return from vacation, I&#8217;m going to offer a drop in time over the lunch hour<br>on Thursdays. Now, don&#8217;t ask me where yet. I haven&#8217;t quite figured that out, but. Oh, well, I&#8217;ll find a place. We&#8217;ll find a place, and we&#8217;ll<br>have a weekly space every single Thursday over lunch time with a way to drop in remotely to. Because I want this to be the kind of<br>thing where we can come together, even if you only have 10 minutes or five minutes on your lunch break. But an opportunity for us to<br>just see each other and be together and each week during these lunchtime drop ins on Thursday is all offer us up a single question if<br>we want to talk about it, just to get our conversations with each other starting and to remember that we have an opportunity to be<br>intentional about this time. I was inspired in this by the work of a woman named Priya Parker, an author and a facilitator who wrote a<br>book on gathering on how we meet and why it matters relevant right now.<br>[00:25:36] Speaker1<br>She has been writing in recent months about the topic that is on so many of our minds of what it will be like when we start to come<br>back together into the places and spaces that we knew, how will we navigate this transition, knowing that things have changed, that<br>we have changed in some ways. And she asks a set of questions that seem simple, but of course are full of lots of beautifully<br>complicated real life threads like what just happened. What just happened? All right. What just happened? What has this time been<br>for you? And going a little deeper, what happened to our sense of place in this time? What happened to our sense of family in this<br>time, what happened to our sense of ourselves? Who and what, she asks, did I miss and who and what did I not miss? What did I<br>learn? What do I still need to learn? What was lost in this time? And what ways did I become lost? How did I become reoriented and<br>find my way? And in what ways was I newly found and discovered to myself? What was revealed about myself, to me, about my<br>relationships, about the world I live in, and what did these revelations ask of me? What do they ask now? And finally, what is the story<br>we will tell about this time in the future? What is the story you plan to tell? When maybe your little ones are grown up and big enough<br>to ask your grandchildren, the kids in your community, in your congregation,<br>[00:27:31] Speaker2<br>What<br>[00:27:31] Speaker1<br>Is the story we will tell and how will we live into the story of these changes? So we&#8217;ll take maybe one of those questions each<br>Thursday, each week, starting next month, and for anyone at all who wants to join us, whether to reflect or just to listen sometimes to<br>other folks, reflections can be so helpful to begin to make some sense of this for ourselves, seeing where we show up in someone<br>else&#8217;s story. Right. Or where we might differ, it&#8217;s all helpful. That&#8217;s all part of the gift of having each other, being a community. We can<br>remember together and what&#8217;s remembered<br>[00:28:19] Speaker2<br>Will<br>[00:28:19] Speaker1<br>Live. Amen Wellspring&#8217;s and may you live in Blessing. I invite you all to take a breath, maybe let your eyes closed if you&#8217;re<br>comfortable, let your shoulders drop and join me in the spirit of prayer. God, who has made our lives. Holder and creator of this road<br>that we travel. May we remember as we think about stories that affect us, as we think about this time and where we&#8217;re going and<br>where we&#8217;ve been. Maybe remember that this idea of a road is not just a metaphor that we drive on roads every day with other<br>people, that we walk on the streets and we pass each other. May we remember that the road is an image for us that helps us make<br>some sense of how things happen, how things unfold in our lives, but that we make the road by walking, as Brian McLaren says, we<br>make the road by traveling it. And just like a good Samaritan in that Christian New Testament story. We have opportunities to reach<br>out and to connect with people as we travel. We may think we have very little to offer that we don&#8217;t have enough energy, that we don&#8217;t<br>have enough resources, but what we offer may do more than we think. And so maybe we remember today that as we continue to<br>travel this road ahead of us, tired as we might be, we can rest and that we can move forward when we&#8217;re ready. We don&#8217;t have to<br>sleepwalk back into our old lives. We can move with intention and choice and freedom. May we remember only one to use our<br>freedom? Well. Today and all the days to come. For the person I&#8217;ve spoken and for the prayers that everyone gathered with us from<br>all different places on this land, the prayers they&#8217;re holding in their hearts this morning, for all of these, we say amen. If you enjoyed<br>this message and would like to support the mission of Wellspring&#8217;s, go to our Web site. wellspringsuu.org. That&#8217;s Wellspring&#8217;s the<br>letters UU dot ORG.<br>END OF TRANSCRIPT<br><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Rev. Lee shares her last message from her Philadelphia home about the movie Nomadland. This film focuses on the demise of a company town after the industry supporting it shuts down. She reflects on the fact that she\u2019s about to move into a place that once used to be a company town too. She reflects on how the story of a company town suddenly closing down speaks to our own pandemic experiences, when the things we thought would always be [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5053,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","ctc_sermon_topic":[146,143,147,125],"ctc_sermon_book":[],"ctc_sermon_series":[130],"ctc_sermon_speaker":[123],"ctc_sermon_tag":[],"class_list":["post-5074","ctc_sermon","type-ctc_sermon","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","ctc_sermon_topic-change","ctc_sermon_topic-courage","ctc_sermon_topic-spiritual-practices","ctc_sermon_topic-unitarian-universalism","ctc_sermon_series-spiritflix","ctc_sermon_speaker-rev-lee-paczulla","ctfw-has-image"],"featured_image_urls":{"medium":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-300x169.png","thumbnail":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-150x150.png","medium_large":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-768x432.png","post-thumbnail":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-720x480.png","saved-banner":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-920x400.png","saved-square":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-720x720.png","saved-square-large":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-1024x1024.png","saved-square-small":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-160x160.png","saved-rect-medium":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-480x320.png","saved-rect-small":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/SpiritFlix-2021_1A_FACEBOOK-COVER-1-200x133.png"},"appp_media":null,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon\/5074","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/ctc_sermon"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5074"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon\/5074\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5076,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon\/5074\/revisions\/5076"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5053"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5074"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"ctc_sermon_topic","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon_topic?post=5074"},{"taxonomy":"ctc_sermon_book","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon_book?post=5074"},{"taxonomy":"ctc_sermon_series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon_series?post=5074"},{"taxonomy":"ctc_sermon_speaker","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon_speaker?post=5074"},{"taxonomy":"ctc_sermon_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wellspringsuu.org\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ctc_sermon_tag?post=5074"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}