 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
||||||||||
 |
|
||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
|
||||||||||
 |
 |
|
|||||||||
 |
 |
|
|||||||||
 |
|
||||||||||
Unitarian Church of Sharon
4 N. Main St.
Sharon, MA 02067
781-784-3652
E-mail UCS
Food for the Journey
Sermon by Rev. Deborah Cayer
March 18, 2007
“Where do we come from, what are we, where are we going?” The
words of that lovely round are actually the title of a painting by the
artist, Paul Gaugin; it hangs in Boston at the MFA. Like most of Gaugin’s
large, bright canvasses it too is filled with the people, flowers and
light of the South Pacific islands. Gaugin went there in search of something
ineffable that he couldn’t find in Europe—a freedom of the
spirit, a new engagement with meaning. He had a hunger and passion for
life that took him to the far side of the globe.
Most of us aren’t artists, but we do think about life’s big
questions. “Where do we come from, what are we, where are we going?” We
think about these things in this congregation, as well as other big,
contemporary questions, such as: how might people with diverse beliefs
live in harmony? And, what is the best way to help create peace? We think
these are important questions, and that the future might even depend
upon what we come up with for answers. Questions about the future are
of ultimate importance these days, and that’s part of why we’re
here.
Our intentions, our striving toward the future matters, as we heard in
this morning’s reading. It’s essential to our well being
to have something to strive toward. We strive constantly in our daily
life—to get the laundry done before the work week begins, to get
the back hallway cleared out, to quit smoking, to get out of debt, to
exercise more and eat better food—and all this is good and necessary.
And yet, our souls, our deep self sometimes needs something more. Sometimes
this need for a deeper existence shows up in our lives as an intense
urge to visit an art museum, or attend a concert or play. We sometimes
feel a powerful need for beauty, a desperate urge for more than the mundane.
All of this can point toward large and noble things: beauty, truth and
goodness, powerful forces that can pull us forward. And admittedly, they
also sometimes steer us into deceptively shallow waters, shoals of illusions.
Like any heroic journey, this journey into larger meaning also has lures
and snares for unwary travelers.
But still a heroic quest is a heroic quest, and there’s
a benefit when we human beings go on a search for beauty, truth and
goodness. Sometimes new and helpful things are discovered or invented;
sometimes the realm of human freedom and rights is enlarged. Gaugin
experience this perhaps as the need to sail to the far side of the
world. Most of the rest of us are able to strive for what is large
and inspiring, for what serves the common good, even for what is ultimate,
without having to travel so far from home.
And so we visit that museum, or we read great literature, or see an independent
film, or listen to good music when we feel the need for inspiration.
Sometimes when we feel the urge for creative self expression we might
put on trendy clothes and rock out, if not in a club then at least in
our kitchen. Or we might get an asymmetrical haircut and dye a streak
of it pink, or paint our home with bold colors. Or we spend our free
time writing poetry or a novel, or painting our own canvasses.
But what we need most, before we’re able to come up with any of
this expression is our own inner vision, our own intention to make a
creative, generative contribution. Some research suggests that what we
hold in mind and what we work toward are the best predictors of whether
or not we’ll succeed in creating what we envision.
I believe this is different from wishful, magical thinking in some important
ways. There’s a wildly popular book right now that promises to
tell you the secret to all great success if you buy the book. I’ll
save you the expense; the purported secret is that we attract what we
want to ourselves with our thoughts; all we have to do is think good
thoughts hard and long enough, and fabulously good things will be ours.
However, if change was this simple, I myself would be several inches
taller—and dress sizes smaller—and this building would be
twice as large and universally accessible. I firmly believe that while
it’s necessary to have a vision, it’s not the only thing
needed. You also have to have plans, strategies, resources and support
in addition to your own best efforts. You can work for what you want,
but just thinking about preferred outcomes won’t make anything
happen.
I think vision and intention are different than wishful thinking, and
that they’re the right place to begin, and the right things to
hold in mind when we begin any quest for beauty, truth and the greater
good. I think this is true because I believe that our everyday reality
rests within a larger reality, and that larger reality beguiles us forward,
and supports our efforts to grow and change.
Rudolf Otto and Mircea Eliade are two scholars who have studied the phenomenology
of religious experience; both write about religious experience as an
expanded sense of reality. Otto says that religion is not about thinking
about God, but rather is an experience of the holy that the world over,
humans describe as a mysterium: tremendum et fascinans, a mystery that
evokes awe and fear because of its power, beauty and promise. Eliade
talks about the difference between sacred and ordinary ways of experiencing
the world.
Considering the work of these two scholars, Sam Keen writes, “No
matter whether the holy appears to us in an encounter with a rock, a
bush, a flower in a crannied wall, or in the words or presence of a teacher
or prophet such as Jesus or Mohammed, we find ourselves in the presence
of power that is luminous and revelatory. To encounter the holy is to
live in the presence of what is real rather than illusory, lasting rather
than ephemeral, power.”
Described this way, the sacred can but doesn’t necessarily have
to have personal qualities; it can be an impersonal force in the way
perhaps that the power and force of evolution is impersonal—but
both Otto and Eliade say that this power surprises us and lures us forward
on our journey of growth and change. This experience offers us new and
unexpected power, an expanded understanding of truth, new ways of proceeding,
not so much for ourselves but for the greater good.
No fabulous worldly prizes are offered for having this kind of encounter,
but it will change lives, capacities, and generative, creative abilities.
When Einstein says that the problems the world faces can’t be solved
by the same kind of thinking that created the problems, I think he means
that our new, expanded thinking needs to come from this kind of larger,
supportive realm of experience and empowerment.
It’s always good to have something big to wonder about and strive
for, but it’s not always easy to find our way when we embark into
this larger unknown territory. So we need other things: maps, guidebooks,
companions, stories and music to sustain us. And we need something like
nourishing, sustaining food as well.
Once when I was young I was desperately in need of changing my life and
quite challenged to figure out how, I was becoming worn down and hopeless.
I desperately needed some new friends, new ideas and new possibilities.
As I thought about what I needed to change, the idea popped into my mind
that somewhere in the universe there might be something like a cosmic
cookie jar filled with big, whole grain, dark and moist chunky cookies
that were packed full of the most wonderfully delicious, nutritious dried
fruits, seeds and nuts.
Cosmic cookies…I imagined these not so much as sweet treats, but
instead as nourishing and sustaining food for a particularly tough journey.
A kind of celestial power bar for the spiritual and emotional equivalent
of riding a bike up a steep mountain, or mushing a sled through the Iditarod.
I thought that it would be truly wonderful if at the times we’re
in need, we knew that we’re invited to take from the cookie jar,
and at other times when we’re feeling great, we could bake and
make a contribution. The thought of it was comforting at the time, and
it became a vision, a possibility of what might be.
We all are in need sometimes, of things as varied as a hug or an affirmation
or even an occasional gift. Shortly after this difficult time, I met
someone who has been a good friend for almost 30 years now. She is a
very kind, generous person who has really been there for me. We’ve
supported each other through thick and thin. I offer her laughter and
a list of sustaining books when life gets tough with her dysfunctional,
extended family. She’s helped me with a fierce belief that I can
do just about anything.
She firmly doesn’t believe in giving loans, yet twice when I really
needed it, she offered me money. But a long time ago she decided that
loans aren’t good, and that for her, it’s better instead
to simply offer cash as a gift when people are in need and she has it
to give. So when she’s able, she gives to anyone in need. All she
asks is that when the recipient has the chance to help someone else they
do whatever they can. You might think she’s a pushover, but what
I’ve seen is that anyone who tries to take advantage of her doesn’t
last long in her circle of friends. And at the same time, she’s
one of the most generally happy, resilient, successful people I know.
After knowing other people like my friend, I have come to believe that
my vision of a cosmic cookie jar, taking when you’re in need and
giving whenever you can, is not so fanciful or far fetched as it might
first seem. I think the cosmic cookies are actually real, in the sense
that just as good nutrition sustains our bodies, good, nurturing practices
create a kind of “spiritual power bar” that can help us find
our way through the challenging realm of greater possibility, and provide
stamina for our journey. These practices and qualities can sustain us
as we travel into depth and meaning, in becoming ever more whole and
integrated. I think some of the necessary ingredients in these cookies
are practices that develop qualities such as….
Compassion. “Visualize someone who makes you envious,” says
Marc Barasch, “someone who squats smug as a toad in what surely
is your rightful place in the world. Think of them in all their irritating
splendor, enjoying the perks and accolades you no doubt deserve. Then . . . wish
sincerely that they get even more goodies.” Now, that’s a
practice designed to help you become a spiritual master. And we need
many such masters, for as Maryann and Frederic Brussat say, “in
a world twisted with tension, violence, and divisions based on race,
class, gender, ethnicity, and sexual orientation, compassion and her
sisters — loving-kindness, empathy, altruism, forgiveness, and
social reconciliation — comprise the best possible hope for humanity’s
survival.” In a recent survey, a majority of people from around
the world say that our best hope for global survival in an era of terrorism
is to develop more compassion.
Another ingredient in the cookie that will sustain us on our journey
would have to be truth—the telling and seeking of truth. James
Luther Adams taught that truth didn’t stop entering the world after
the council of Nicea, or at time the Talmud was codified and closed,
or when God stopped talking to the Prophet Mohammed. If those human beings
had the ability to study, pray, argue, discuss, listen and discern truth,
Adams says, we can develop this too. “Revelation is not sealed,” he
taught, meaning that contemporary people have just as much ability to
seek and discern what is right and good today as did ancient sages. We
are wise to study and learn from the past, but we would be foolish to
stop there.
Even more, when you study religion as Otto and Eliade did, you begin
to understand that there are rational truths and mythic truths. “For
me the world of my imagination is always closer to the truth than the
truth,” Federico Fellini said. Sometimes a fictional film or novel
can inspire us or teach us even better than history can, particularly
about rising beyond human limits into greater possibility than we first
think possible. When you study the world’s sacred texts, you begin
to realize that much of it is not literal truth, but rather is this kind
of imaginative truth.
Another quality that sustains us on our journey is respect. Confucius
taught, “Always and in everything let there be reverence.” He
realized that this quality is essential in the building of a stable world.
Another word for reverence is respect. Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot, professor
at the Harvard Graduate School of Education says that respect is not
so much a debt due to people because of their hard work or venerability,
as it is a virtue that builds balance, empathy, and connection in human
relationships.
Another essential quality is humility, which is not about feeling small
and worthless, but rather about feeling our full humanness, knowing ourselves
fully and truly as we actually are. This self knowledge helps restore
us to wholeness, and also allows us to take our rightful place in the
interconnected web of life. It helps us know where we begin and end,
and this is necessary for transcendence, for getting past the limits
of our ego.
Hospitality is a quality necessary for cultivating relationships. The
Brussats say, “Instead of hostility and distrust of strangers,
we can exhibit hospitality. Instead of constricting our hearts and tightening
our fists, we can open our souls and reach out to others in mutuality
and compassion.”
Along these same lines, gratitude and generosity are important ingredients
that sustain us on a spiritual path. Gratitude and generosity enable
us to see all that we have, be thankful, and give back. The Hausa people
of Nigeria have a saying: Give thanks for a little and you will find
a lot.
One big opportunity we have to practice this in our culture is in considering
how much of our income we’ll give away. I mentioned a couple years
ago that my husband and I are working to be able to give away 10% of
our income every year. When we put together our taxes recently we learned
that we’ve worked our way into giving 5% of our income to the church,
and another 1.5% to other causes. We plan to increase that in the coming
years. Ironically, as we’ve planfully given our money to groups
that share our values and put our principles into action, our savings
have also increased. We’re not wealthy by the world’s standards,
but we find that these days we’re feeling empowered and very good
about the quality of our life, and secure about the future.
I like to give money to the church because in a way, a congregation is like a cosmic cookie jar—or a pantry full of nutritious ingredients for cosmic cookies. We stock this pantry, this congregation, with worship services full of real feelings and truth as well as good music, words and ideas. We’re far from perfect and we don’t have it all together. But we do offer the true fellowship of real people on a journey, and opportunities for significant social justice action, and we continue to grow our souls and learn together here.
One of the things that has been most inspiring to me here this past year has been to witness the seriousness and intention that members bring to their relationships with others in the congregation. I think our intentionality takes the form of implicit offers or promises to one another about how we intend to be here for each other, what we will do, and how we’ll allow others to count on us. It’s been deeply moving to hear various people ask for help at times; it’s been a privilege to hear how others have responded with offers of help.
It’s easy to understand that our offers of help are gifts that we offer to one another. But I think that our requests for what we need are also incredibly important gifts as well, because our requests invite others into the ebb and flow of real relationship. It can be extremely difficult to ask for what you need—but it’s actually a sign of maturity, because it’s actually a way of taking responsibility for yourself. And asking for what you need ends up offering the opportunity to deepen and grow to the whole community. This is part of what happens in the realm of the sacred.
Author Jamie Sams says, “True devotion and commitment are never made with the mind. These qualities, which allow us to expand, to grow, and to bloom into our potential, are developed through the heart and the spirit.” When we ask for and receive these kind of sacred commitments not only with our rational conscious self but also with our mythic, poetic self, with both our secular self and sacred self, we discover the spaciousness of our whole selves; and we gain a new, enhanced capacity to make and honor our commitments, our promises.
Different faith communities say these essential qualities emanate to us from different ultimate realities—the Buddha, God, or even a scientific story about the nature of reality. Unitarian Universalists say we can be in the same story or a different story and it’ll be ok. What holds us together isn’t a shared belief, but rather, it’s our respect for each person’s experience of ultimate reality, our testing of illusions in community, and our promises to be there, facing the same direction, facing the future together, discerning a vision, listening together for the sound calling us forward into what wants to happen next.
“Where do we come from; what are we; where are we going?”
We are a religious people who come from a past that was born of the practice of asking questions and listening for new answers.
We are lovers and thinkers, dreamers and planners,
and we are making our way with compassion
into a larger possibility based in the reality of love.
May it be so this day, and in all the days to come. Amen.
About UCS | Worship | Religious Education
Fellowship | Social Justice | Home
