Cutting-edge researchers in psychology and cognitive science increasingly refer to the “two selves” of our in-the-moment self and our reflecting or remembering self. We will explore this abstract dichotomy through the lens of my very personal struggle to find a meaningful relationship with humility.
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How Shall We Live? In the first half of the nineteenth century approximately one hundred utopian societies were established across the United States, several by Unitarians and Universalists. We will look at those UU utopian societies and see what lessons they offer us today.
Times of dramatic and rapid change often lead people to question all aspects of their lives. Such a time in the United States was in the early 19th century. As America entered the early 1800s the country began to take its first major steps toward an industrial society. People no longer stayed on the family farm. The first textile mills were established in New England. Improvements in transportation and printing came at a time when hundreds of thousands of new immigrants from Germany and Ireland flooded the country. The old, traditional patterns of life were altered and individuals looked for new ways to live. Some sought community in utopian societies. Over 100 such communities were established in the United States in the years prior to the Civil War. Some were religious, some were secular, some were entirely economic – all sought a better way of life. A few were established by our Unitarian and Universalist forefathers. Their search for a new life in the 1830s and 1840s still speaks to the way we choose to live our life today.
The most well known of these societies related to our UU ancestors was Brook Farm, established by Unitarian minister George Ripley. Ripley was a graduate of Harvard Divinity School and for 15 years the settled minister at Purchase Street Church in Boston. Increasingly attracted to Transcendentalism, in 1840 he attended a Christian Union Convention where participants were encouraged to follow the words of 2 Corinthians 6:17. “Wherefore come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord.” Ripley envisioned a Transcendentalist “City of God” and plans for the community were made in the home of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The preamble to his “Articles of Agreement” state the lofty goals of Brook Farm:
To establish the external relations of life on a basis of wisdom and purity; to apply the principles of justice and love to our social organization In accordance with the laws of Divine Providence; to substitute a system of brotherly cooperation for one of selfish competition; to institute an attractive, efficient, and productive system of industry; to diminish the desire of excessive accumulation; to guarantee to each other forever the means of physical support and of spiritual progress; and thus to impart a greater freedom, simplicity, truthfulness, refinement and moral dignity to our mode of life…”
He organized a joint stock company, raised $11,000 in donations and pledges, bought a 200 acre farm eight miles from Boston in West Roxbury and called it “The Brook Farm Institute of Agriculture and Education.” In March of 1841 he gave his final sermon at the Purchase Street Church and he and his wife moved to Brook Farm. They were soon joined by 13 other adults and within a year the community had 70 residents.
Work was chosen and assigned based on personal affinity and skills. Since all were expected to work and all work was equally honored, all were paid the same. Farmers, carpenters, and laborers were paid the same as teachers, poets, and philosophers. Education, social class, age, and gender made no difference. This plot of land had previously been a dairy farm and the soil was rather poor. Nevertheless, they planted a garden. Nathaniel Hawthorne, one of the early residents, seems not to have enjoyed the blend of intellect and labor. He later wrote, “Mr. Ripley put a four-pronged instrument into my hands, which he gave me to understand was called a pitchfork; and he and Mr. Farley being armed with similar weapons we all three commenced a gallant attack upon a heap of manure.” They opened a school where students were taught history, philosophy, literature, music, Greek, Latin, and German. To achieve their goal of balancing manual labor and the intellect, students were required to work two hours a day. Some of Boston’s finest families sent their children there. The school would prove to be Brook Farm’s most successful undertaking.
The intellectual and social life at Brook Farm were stimulating. They had Elizabethan pageants, Shakesperian plays, concerts, operas, costume parties and dances. Works of Beethoven were played on the pianoforte; the choir sang the works of Mozart. The works of Dante were read in Italian. Literary societies and reading groups were popular. One resident later recalled that “the weeds were scratched out of the earth to the music of Tennyson and Browning.” At night Ripley led philosophical discussions, others led star gazing activities. Charles Dana led a group in translating difficult German texts. Many would close their day by joining hands in a circle and repeating “Truth to the cause of God and humanity.” Bronson Alcott and Charles Lane visited Brook Farm in the summer of 1843 and Lane critically wrote that he found “80 or 90 persons playing away their youth and day-time in a miserably joyous frivolous manner.”
From the beginning there had been a shortage of housing, so additional buildings were constructed, increasing their debt. Work also began on a 3 story high main building that would provide more living quarters, reading rooms, assembly hall, and central dining room.
Many of those who had given pledges of support were unable to fulfill their commitment. Struggling financially, in early 1844 the community was reorganized based on the communitarian socialist proposals of French utopian philosopher Charles Fourier. New workers joined Brook Farm, but many of the original Transcendentalist poets and writers left. Various industries were attempted. A sewing department made capes, caps, and collars for sale in Boston stores. Shoe making along with the manufacture of sashes, blinds, pewter lamps and pewter pots generated a little additional revenue. But not enough.
Criticism of Brook Farm began to circulate. Charles Fourier – the utopian writer – had believed that sex should follow the same patterns of work. That is, it should be based on attraction, alternation, and variety. Unfounded rumors of varied and alternating sexual partners began to be spread. Some parents withdrew their children from the school. Some parents opposed the equality or “leveling up” practiced at Brook Farm. One financial backer wrote to Ripley complaining about the presence of what he called “impure children” and called the social mixing of the children an “enormous evil.” In 1845 a student visited relatives in Boston where he was exposed to smallpox. Smallpox soon spread through the community and, although no one died, almost 1/3 of the population was quarantined. More students withdrew from school.
By 1846 about 65 residents and 12 students remained. In March the incomplete and uninsured main building caught fire and burned to the ground in two hours. Within a few months, 30 residents remained and virtually all of the students were gone. The following year bankruptcy proceedings were completed. Brook Farm was no more.
Ripley went to work for Horace Greeley and the New York Tribune. He later published a tremendously successful New American Cyclopedia and paid off all of the debts. Brook Farm lasted from 1841 until 1847, but Ripley’s dream of a Unitarian Transcendentalist utopia had failed.
Shortly after Brook Farm was founded, Adin Ballou established another utopian community, Hopedale. Ballou envisioned a pacifist cooperative community that would incorporate productive farming and industrial activities among a group of committed Christians. Ballou was almost 40 old when he began this enterprise, having served seven years as a Universalist minister and another eleven years in a Unitarian church. He had became a radical reformer, supporting the abolition of slavery, the temperance crusade against alcohol, equal rights for women, and pacifism. He believed in what was labeled “Practical Christianity,” a movement that supported Christian doctrine as closely related to the early, “primitive” church as possible.
In 1841 he organized and became president of “Fraternal Communion Number One,” a society dedicated to Christian living in a community setting. A joint stock company was organized at $50.00 per share, with the promise of a 4% annual return on the investment. The largest investors were Anna and Ebenezer Draper. With the money they raised, they purchased a 600 acre farm just west of Milford, Massachusetts and christened it Hopedale. Members of the Hopedale community agreed to a constitution that stated the following, “I believe in the religion of Jesus Christ as he taught and exemplified it according to the scripture of the New Testament.” They furthermore pledged that they would never assault, injure, slander, envy or hate any human or serve in the armed forces, use liquor, file a suit in court, or vote. Personally, they were committed to never indulge in covetousness, deceit, idleness, or have an unruly tongue. Thirty-two men and women signed this rather strict Christian pledge as they began their life at Hopedale.
In March 1842 twenty-eight individuals – about one-third of whom were children – occupied the Hopedale farm. All 28 moved into the old farm house. They were expected to work 60 hours a week during the summer months, 48 during the winter. And work they did. That first summer they planted 10 acres in potatoes and beans, 4 acres in corn, and 3 acres in other vegetables. They repaired the old buildings, erected a new one, and opened a school for the children. Every two weeks they printed a paper, “The Practical Christian.” They began manufacturing shoes and boots.
On Sundays they had morning and afternoon church services. On Tuesdays they had singing; on Thursdays they had religious discussions and on Saturdays they met to read and discuss public papers and periodicals. Thus, they practiced their Primitive Practical Christianity. Ballou would later write, “I…longed most ardently to see New Testament Christianity actualized.”
Within a few years Hopedale had grown to 170 people and annual business meetings reflected assets of over $50,000. But conflict had crept in. Many of the newer members did not have as firm a commitment to Practical Christianity as the original members. Divergent beliefs such as spiritualism, vegetarianism, and phrenology were practiced by some. Housing had always been inadequate and as new facilities were built, people argued about who would live where. The industries did not produce the revenue expected. As members withdrew, they were paid for their investment and labor, draining Hopedale of valuable financial resources. The end of Ballou’s Christian experiment came in 1856 when the Drapers, the largest investors, withdrew their financial support. The community could no longer be sustained and the Hopedale industries became private companies.
Ballou would write of his experiment. “It will go out to the world and down to coming generations…a laudable but ill-fated experiment entered upon and prosecuted, not to advance any selfish or unworthy interest or course, but rather to show the way of a better, truer life…”
In 1843 Bronson Alcott, the father of writer Louisa May Alcott, established a short-lived vegetarian community called Fruitlands. Prior to this community, Alcott had led a curious life, primarily fashioning himself as a philosopher, educator, and reformer. One historian claims that he was probably the closest personal friend to both Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Born in Connecticut in a large farming family, he had little formal education, but he loved learning.
After traveling to Virginia and failing to secure a job as a teacher, he returned to Connecticut and served as an innovation school master in two townships. He emphasized openness, respect, and self-expression, employing the Socratic method. Educational reformers helped him establish schools in Pennsylvania. Noted Unitarian minister Samuel Joseph May heard of Alcott and secured him a position in Boston. There, Alcott met May’s sister, Abigail, and in 1830 they married. He was attracted to the Unitarian faith of the Mays and for years attended William Ellery Channing’s Federal Street Church. But later, he drifted away from the church.
In 1836 he helped organized the Transcendentalist Club; the first meeting was held in his home. He even provided the name for the Transcendentalist paper, The Dial.
That same year he also published a very controversial book, Conversations on the Gospels. Included in these “Conversations” were discussions of human conception and birth. The book created a storm of protest and many parents withdrew their students from his school. Three years later, when he admitted a young black girl into the school, the remaining students withdrew and the school closed. To make ends meet, he became a day laborer and his wife and young daughters took in sewing. In the meantime, the Alcotts had become vegetarians.
Emerson paid for Alcott to take a trip to England where he met other innovative educators, including Charles Lane. Lane returned with Alcott to Boston and, along with Abigail’s brother Samuel, put up the money to buy a 90 acre farm 30 miles from Boston. During the early summer of 1843, the Alcotts – with their four daughters, age 2 to 12 – along with Lane and his son and five other adults moved to the farm, Fruitlands.
In spite of only having about ten apple trees, they expected to establish an orchard and grow their own food and live according to their radical vegetarian principles. This site had poor soil and was not suitable for a thriving farm. Nevertheless, they spent most of the summer plowing and planting. They planted corn, beans, potatoes, and carrots. They consumed no meat, eggs, milk, butter, coffee, tea, or molasses. The preferred diet was raw fruit and vegetables and water. Later, Alcott would ban the growing of food that grew downward. They felt animals should be as free as humans and so used no wool, honey, manure, or animal labor. In order to not be attracted by money, they tried to grow only as much as they could consume. They had little to worry about, because over production would not be a problem at Fruitlands. Neglecting their farm duties, Alcott and Lane traveled widely to Boston, New York, Rhode Island and Connecticut unsuccessfully recruiting additional members. As a result, when the grain needed to be harvested in the fall, Lane and Alcott were away and so Abigail and the girls led the harvest.
The few adults at Fruitlands were a motley crew. One resident insisted on wearing a long beard in an era when all men shaved. Another was a nudist, believing that clothing was spiritually restrictive. He agreed to practice his nudity only at night. One male believed that cursing and profane language elevated the spirit and regularly greeted people with “Good morning, damn you.” One resident – an elderly female – was caught by Lane eating a piece of fish. Defending herself she said, “I only took a little bit of the tail” to which Lane replied, “Yes, but the whole fish had to be tortured and killed.” She packed her bags and left.
By the fall, only the Alcotts and Lanes remained. When Samuel May refused to make an installment payment on the farm in January of 1844, everyone was forced to leave Fruitlands. Alcott’s dream of a radical vegetarian community was over. It had survived less than a year.
Pre-dating these three communities by a few years was the utopian settlemen Of Abner Kneeland, Salubria, Iowa. Kneeland was ordained as a Universalist minister in 1804 and for 25 years served churches in New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, and New York. Throughout his ministry, he continued to shift his theological and societal beliefs and came to support the radical beliefs of socialist reformers Robert Owen and Francis Wright. He supported women’s rights, racial equality, divorce, birth control, and interracial marriage. Theologicallly, he drifted away from Christian doctrine and came to define himself as a pantheist. In 1830 he was declared out of fellowship with the Universalists and no longer recognized as a Universalist minister. He established the First Society of Free Enquirers, and preached to crowds of about 2,000 on Sundays. After 3 years, he was challenged by Universalist minister and editor Thomas Whittemore. In response, Kneeland wrote an article which was published in the “Boston Intelligencer.” Kneeland wrote: “Universalists believe in a god which I do not…Universalists believe in Christ, which I do not…Universalists believe in miracles, which I do not…Universalists believe in the resurrection of the dead… and eternal life, which I do not.” For those statements over a period of five years he underwent five trials for blasphemy. Ultimately, he was convicted and in June of 1838, at the age of 64, served 60 days in jail. Famously, he was the last man in this country jailed for blasphemy. While in jail, Kneeland made plans to move west and establish a new community of free thinkers. He sought a community where no one would be persecuted for their religious or social beliefs. He chose the newly opened territory of Iowa for his project of free thinkers. By the spring of 1839, less than a year after his release from jail, he was in Iowa. He purchased 230 acres, setting aside 80 acres for himself and offering the rest for sale. Friends and supporters bought 200 more acres. Ten other families soon joined him, “united in desire to free inquiry.” He advertised his new community of Salubria in the Boston Intelligencer, describing the new land in glowing terms. He built a large two-story house, the finest in the county. Now in his mid-60s, he had two more children by his fourth wife – the first three having died.
Although Kneeland was busy in his new, small community, new settlers did not arrive and the land did not sell. He had not taken into consideration the Panic of 1837 – a 7 year long depression – the worse that the United States had faced up to that time. If others had planned to move to Salubria, there was now no money. To make ends meet, Kneeland taught school, sold his livestock and his 200 books.
Local citizens had been tolerant of Kneeland and his free thinkers and a group of nearby Mormons. One local resident regarded the settlers at Salubria as a group of people who just read a lot of books. However, young men from the American Home Missionary Society invaded the area and reported there were a “considerable body of men here…who are in various degrees infected with infidelity.” Of course, they were referring to Kneeland and his free thinkers. As a reflection of their mindset, one Kneeland supported named his son Voltaire Paine Twombley.
Kneeland became active in local politics, was elected county chairman of the local Democratic party, but lost in a bid for the territorial legislature. In 1842, although Kneeland was not on the ticket for any office, the Democrats were attacked by their Whig opponents as the “”infidelity ticket.” The entire slate was defeated.
Two years later at the age of 70, Kneeland suffered a stroke and died. Some of his followers stayed and became absorbed in the area. But the free inquiry community of Salubria was over.
Utopia – “a place of ideal perfection, especially in laws, government, and social conditions.” Ultimately, these four communities tied to our UU forefathers failed. What had they sought? They sought communities of free thinkers, Transcendentalists, vegetarians, and practical Christians. They sought economic stability, religious freedom, and intentional communities of like minded individuals. They sought a better, more meaningful way of life. They sought to set an example for others to follow. Although their experiments in living failed, their quest still resounds with us today. The question remains, how shall we live?
On the one hand, I believe that Brook Farm reminds us to be open to our life- long search for truth and meaning – to associate with those who can give us inspiration, guidance, and encouragement. If we accept the principles of George Ripley’s “Articles of Agreement,” then we would strive to “diminish the desire of excessive accumulations.” Yes, we would learn the boundaries of “enoughness,” focus on what is truly important, and in the words of Ripley achieve “a greater freedom, simplicity, truthfulness, refinement, and moral dignity.” Adin Ballou teaches us to be true to our beliefs and to live life accordingly, wherever it may lead. Bronson Alcott should encourage us to live a life of simplicity, not only in our choices of what we eat, but in how we treat others, animals, and the environment. Abner Kneeland teaches us the value of freedom of speech and thought. For me he also gives encouragement to persevere, no matter what your age, circumstances, or obstacles. Shall we establish our own utopia? The First UU Utopia of Austin, Texas? After all, we have 132 acres of Hill Country land at U Bar U. Perhaps we can raise our own chickens and have farm fresh eggs. Perhaps we can have bee hives and have buckets of honey. We do have church members who can help us in those areas, you know. Perhaps we can raise goats and sell goat cheese to the finest restaurants in Austin. Or perhaps we have already addressed this issue. Our church mission statement states that “We gather in community to nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice.” We will most likely never establish a UU utopia, but perhaps, we can live out our mission, discover meaningful lives, do good works, and have a positive impact on those about us. That in itself would almost be a utopian community.
Dick Pierce is a founding member of the Austin Permaculture Guild, a cofounder, with Brandi Clark of the very successful Austin Citizen Gardener program, and a passionate spokesman for the Environment, for “relocalizing” our food, business, jobs/careers, lives and priorities.
Each of us is doing what we can so that all human creatures – big and small, young and old, here and elsewhere – have enough nutritious food, shelter, clothing, and meaningful work to meet the minimum requirements for survival. Then, and only then, should we in the US and the developed world work toward “seconds” or “thirds” for ourselves.
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Both the Unitarians and the Universalists have a long history of prophetic ministry – speaking truth in the public square and, perhaps more importantly, taking action on social issues. From Michael Servetus espousing an early Unitarianism in the 16th century through the Prophetic Sisterhood of the late 19th and early 20th century, to the Unitarian Universalists (UUs) publishing the Pentagon Papers in the mid-20th century, UUs, though not always unified, have a long tradition of being at the forefront of social change and carrying our values into the world. Will we continue that tradition into the 21st Century and beyond?
How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a light bulb?
We’re not sure. The Lighting Technologies Study Team of the Clean Energy Options Working Group of the Green Our World Starting Here and Now Task Force of the Facilities and Grounds Committee hasn’t issued its report and recommendations yet.
You may have heard other variations on this or similar jokes, all on the theme that we UUs can sometimes seem to talk, study, argue, debate, disagree, discuss and “400 plus pages written report” things to death.
It’s not that doing our due diligence, making sure we understand the issues or working through our differing viewpoints isn’t a necessary part of it; it’s just that we (and pretty much all liberal religious groups) have been accused of getting so caught up in our mental gymnastics that we never actually end up doing much about whatever the issues might be. Those 400 plus pages can end up in a file somewhere.
But that’s certainly not always true and it never has been. Even before the merger of the Universalists and the Unitarians, the Us and the Us had often acted as prophetic liberal religions. As our Unitarian Universalist training curricula A People so Bold says it, prophetic religion is “religion that is on the cutting edge, reading the signs of its times, creating a just and loving community in its midst, and advocating passionately for a better world”.
In 16th century Europe, even the very idea of believing in a Unitary God was prophetic and could get you branded a heretic and burned at the stake. And don’t even try for universal salvation! They’d have just added more dry wood to the fire.
In America, early Unitarians and Universalists were among the first to work for improved education, provide charity for the poor, ordain female clergy, call for emancipation and work for women’s suffrage.
Later, after the merger in 1961, this prophetic spirit would continue, with UU participation in environmental issues and in the fight for racial justice, sexuality and gender equality, political and religious freedom.
To be sure, our efforts historically have never been perfect or unified – at no point have either of our Us ever managed to be in complete agreement about anything. However, there is little doubt that overall we have a history of being at the forefront of social issues.
Any yet, as I mentioned earlier, liberal religion can run the risk, sometimes, of intellectualizing more than engaging the core issues. Due at least in part to our roots in the Enlightenment, we tend to focus on the individual as rational and self-determining rather than place our “being” within our connections to others and the web of existence. We see the INDIVIDUAL bigots, the individual abusers, the individual classists and so on, but we don’t as often see the underlying societal structures that perpetuate the oppressive behavior. We focus on the individual victims and not entire cultures, races, classes and other groups that are being systematically subjected to injustice.
For example, let me share some questions I have been asking myself. In the past few years, how often have I given canned goods or the like to the food pantry or the homeless shelter but done little to speak out against the social conditions that force people to live on the streets and go hungry in the first place? I wonder — how many of us recycle, conserve and work to reduce our own environmental impact, yet remain largely silent as our government subsidizes businesses that do far more damage?
How often have we written checks or volunteered for the non-profit clinic, the shelter for battered women, the halfway house for recovering addicts or any other of a number of non-profit groups and then returned to the security of our own homes and lives without having to really consider –what is creating the need for these service agencies to begin with?
Now, I am going to pause for a moment of liberal religious guilt. OK, that’s long enough — because these acts of care and service really are vital and needed and wonderful and necessary and a part of creating the world we seek as UUs. But I believe there is another arena of action required if we hope to really make change. And that’s where living our prophetic religious tradition comes back in.
Will we really be “a people so bold”?
Will we volunteer at the immigrant assistance non-profit AND rally against the economic imperialism that is so often at the root of migration in the first place? Will we join forces with oppressed groups and their organizations to demand and work for change? Will we proclaim our liberal religious principles in the public square? We will do so even if it raises questions about our own middleclass privilege?
The President of our religious movement got himself arrested protesting an unjust immigration law in Arizona. Personally, I say, “more of that!” I believe there has never been a time that so cried out for us to assume the mantle of prophetic religion with renewed vigor and purpose.
Because we are losing our democracy.
Because we are killing our planet.
Before you diagnose me with “hyperbolic propensity syndrome”, allow me just a few minutes to explain why I do not think these are overly dramatic statements. Since the economic crash of 2008, economics professor Edward N. Wolf’s ongoing research revealed that wealth inequality in the United has actually increased even more sharply. The top 1% of wealth owners in the U.S. hold about 40% of all of our wealth; the top quintile hold almost 90%
Other research has found that wealth inequality is highly correlated with power inequality and political corruption. Further, such wealth inequality and corruption form an escalating cycle that threatens the viability of democratic government – wealth inequality begets corruption begets greater inequality begets greater corruption and on and on and on, until only the illusion of democracy remains.
In the U.S., fewer and fewer people own greater and greater percentages of corporate stocks, and corporations are amassing greater and greater power. After the recent Supreme Court decision allowing unlimited spending by corporations and other groups outside the political parties, spending by these groups totaled 135.3 million dollars in the 2010 elections – outside conservative groups spent 119.6 million, while outside liberal groups and unions spent 15.7 million.
Conservative politicians did somewhat better than did liberals, you might recall.
In reaction, democratic groups plan to try to match outside spending by conservatives in 2012. To do so, they too will rely on corporate wealth. By mid-February of this year, the presidential candidates and their Superpacs had already spent in excess of 69.6 million dollars. A recent study found that 30 of our largest companies now spend more on lobbying than they pay in federal taxes.
Wealth inequality begets corruption begets greater inequality. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Listen to what a Republican congressional staffer, who recently retired in disgust after almost 30 years has to say. Republican operative, Mike Lofgren states, quote — “Both parties are rotten – how could they not be, given the complete infestation of the political system by corporate money?… Both parties are captives to corporate loot.” End quote.
We are losing our democracy. Democracy is a core element of our religious principles — all that we as UUs value.
More and more, we face an Orwellian political system that promotes and affirms the inherent worth and dignity of the few over the many. We cannot hope for justice, equity and compassion if we allow our democratic process to be subverted in this way. There can be no peace, no liberty, no justice when such vast inequality is allowed to exist and increase.
But this unrestrained economic disparity of power is potentially even more destructive, even more threatening.
In their fascinating and sobering book, Moral Ground: Ethical Action for a Planet in Peril, editors Kathleen Dean Moore and Michael P. Nelson bring together essays written by people from throughout the world. With wisdom and expertise that varies from the scientific to the spiritual, they make a compelling case that any sense of ethics requires our immediate action on global climate change. They also paint a terrifying picture regarding the consequences of failing to act, such as:
Already, 40,000 people per week die of hunger-related illness worldwide. As global temperatures continue to rise, this is likely to get worse. 33 million acres of Canadian forest have died because it no longer gets cold enough in winter to kill the beetle that is killing the trees.
High-altitude glaciers that provide much of the drinking water in Asia, Latin America and the American West are disappearing. The U.S. Park Service estimates that by the year 2020, there will no longer be any glaciers in Glacier National Park.
The Great Barrier Reef may well be lifeless within two decades. Fifty percent of the world’s animals are in decline. One quarter of mammals face potential extinction, including elephants, humpback whales, gorillas, tigers and polar bears.
We have effectively ended the Holocene era of our planet, into which human civilization arose and during which countless life forms evolved and flourished. We have replaced it with an era of human-caused extinctions.
There is already no chance that we will leave to future generations, our children and grandchildren, a world as rich with life and possibility as the one we inherited.
We are quickly finding out that our 7th principle, that we affirm and promote respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part, goes much deeper and is much more sacred than we may have known – that our free and responsible search for truth and meaning can only exist within and through that web, not separately — not purely as individuals, but instead in communion with one another and with all that exists on this beautiful blue planet and beyond.
So, what more can we do? How do we sustain ourselves and have hope when the scientific predictions seem so huge, so overwhelming.
We can begin by realizing that the things I’ve mentioned that we are already doing are vital and must continue. The services and social action programs Unitarian Universalists are providing, both here in the U.S. and internationally are needed and wonderful. The actions of our congregations, as well as individual people within those congregations, to do what we can to conserve and protect our ecosystem are admirable. They are making a great difference in our world.
Today though, our world asks even more of us. Embracing again our movement as prophetic religion asks that we go even deeper — that we recognize that the corporatist undermining of western democracies and the escalating destruction of our planet’s sustainability are interrelated – that we name this malfeasance publicly and join with others to fight it. We must reaffirm the wisdom our UU sage, James Luther Adams, taught us about the “power of organization and the organization of power”.
Today, commercial, industrial and agricultural giants are producing more greenhouse emissions than all of the ecological conservation efforts of individual citizens combined can offset.
Today, industries so large that they are beyond our dissent, more powerful than most governments, are making decisions that will have tremendous effects on whether and what life survives on our planet in the future.
To have any meaningful influence will require that we engage with other religious groups and with secular and public policy organizations in ways that may have been uncomfortable to us in recent times. It will require that we engage with our more conservative friends in difficult but imaginative and necessary conversations. It will require that we find ways of harnessing the creativity and power of collective voices, making those voices heard, amplifying their strength.
I believe that we must walk a careful line, upholding the separation of church and state, yet realizing that our religious principles will be lived or not in the political arena.
As Sulak Sivaraska, cofounder of the International Association of Engaged Buddhists writes, “Politics without spirituality or ethics is blind. Spirituality without politics is simply inconsequential.”
Our Unitarian Universalist principles are calling us to the consequential. Our community’s values and mission compel us to act together out of compassion, out of love for one another and that sacred web of existence, with the courage to risk potential failure, despite the loss and the irreparable damage we witness. Climate change provides our greatest test so far of that compassion — of that love. It requires a people so bold.
Against all odds, we must still act. We must act to place love and community above market values and profit. We must proclaim our Unitarian Universalist beliefs beyond our church walls. We must act as if those values and principles — indeed the future of humanity and the beautiful world we inherited — depend upon it.
Because they do.
How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change the world?
Every single last one of us, along with the many others who might join an invitation to reclaim paradise before it is lost, if only we were to engage with them. If only we were to be so bold.
May we be so. May we be that prophetic religion for our time.
Marisol Caballero reflects on the symbolism of the Virgin of Guadalupe as a feminine image of the Divine. How may this “goddess”, native to the Americas, speak to us, as Unitarian Universalists, as well as unite diverse populations in compassion, perseverance, and justice?
When I was a very young infant, before I would fully focus on faces or follow sounds much, I am told that I would stare in the direction of a statue that my mother had on her dresser of the Virgin of Guadalupe. No matter where I was in the room, I would try to turn toward that statue. My mom tells me it was the weirdest thing and that visitors to our house would often comment on it, saying that it looked as if I was communicating with her in some way. This may be hyperbole, but it makes for a nice story. And, part of me likes to believe a little that I was born with a special affinity for the Lady, that she drew my eyes to her as she continues to draw my heart, and that a child development specialist can’t easily explain this story away. No, I don’t truly believe that a statue has super powers, nor am I a closet Catholic- in fact I was have been attending UU churches since age two, but there exists a subversive yet compassionate power in the story and symbolism of the Virgin of Guadalupe that transcends religion and that strengthens my faith.
It isn’t often that we hear about traditionally Catholic imagery from our Unitarian Universalist pulpits but as a Chicana from Texas, my cultural connection to her runs deep. Just like each of us, my personal and cultural history influences my worldview and my theology, but I choose to speak from this perspective not because I wish to exoticize my story and my ministry or to become a novelty act. I choose to share such cultural expressions because it is my authentic starting point. One of my professors at seminary, Dr. James Cone, used to remind us in class that, “to do theology, you have to start where you’re at. You must speak from your unique vantage point.”
The image and symbolism of the Virgin of Guadalupe has much to offer UU’s personally, of all backgrounds and genders, as we struggle to equalize the playing fields, seeking justice for the oppressed, and as we strive toward greater compassion in our daily lives, not to mention as we also endeavor to create a more multicultural Unitarian Univeraslism. But, before she can be understood as a universal emblem, the Virgin of Guadalupe must be understood, as her Mexican people know her.
As we learned in the story of her apparition to Juan Diego, the Virgin appeared in solidarity with the marginalized indigenous population. She chose Juan Diego, a poor Aztec, to carry her message. She spoke to him in his language, not the language of the oppressors, from which Christianity had been taught to the Indians. She had brown skin. She wore Aztec astrological imagery on her robe. She was one who they could identify with because she looked like them. She was one of them and still remains so. Most importantly, she does not allow the marginalized to feel inferior. She raises the self-worth of the Mexican people with a mother’s compassion and offers her protection in their struggle.
The Mexican people, and those of Mexican descent, are a mix of various indigenous, Spanish (and other European), and African people. They speak many native languages in addition to Spanish, and many Mexican-Americans (Chicanos) speak no Spanish at all. Before the legendary apparition of the Virgin of Guadalupe, most Christian conversions had been made at the end of a Spanish steel sword. Mary had the effect of uniting the old and the new. She was a fusion of the indigenous and of the oppressor, much like the blood running through the veins of those she calls her children. She offered a means by which her people could retain their cultural identity with pride- with respect to the need for self-preservation amidst a violent theocracy.
This Mary continues to be such a means of synthesis for Mexicans and those of Mexican descent today. She unifies us as a cultural icon, no matter our language, religion, dialect or gender. She is our common mother, our loving ancestor. She is called by many names, among them are: Mother of Mexico, Mother of the Americas, (Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe) Our Lady of Guadalupe, and my great-grandmother- the matriarch of our family- called her affectionately, mi morenita (my little dark-skinned lady). She remains a symbol of strength for her marginalized people for after all, even if her story is only a myth, it reminds us that we are worthy of unconditional love.
In our science-minded culture, we say things like “only a myth”, as if myths were powerless things, when we have learned that myths are, in fact, values and ideals in the embryonic stage. Religions and nations alike were built on myths. (Remember George Washington and the cherry tree?) But, the story of the Virgin of Guadalupe is a revolutionary myth in that it offers us a woman (and a woman of color, no less!) as our champion! Maria de Guadalupe offers us all another way to imagine God. She is a feminine alternative.
Many White feminists have historically rejected her image, misunderstanding her due to centuries of misogynistic false interpretations. She has been said to be the reason that so many women dislike themselves, since she has been lifted up as the ideal of womanhood while women are simultaneously told that her perfection is unattainable. She has been accused of keeping women meek and silently obedient, since her eyes are cast downward. She has also been misinterpreted as a proponent of joyfully bearing one’s suffering, regardless of the hardship it may cause us and those we love. Some school districts have even banned her image on t-shirts, claiming ties to gang violence.
Latinas, however, have long known that although for centuries many have tried to pervert the image of Guadalupe in an effort to keep us in a subjugated place, most of us never truly bought it. She is quite the opposite. She is our Rosie the Riveter. Instead of being an ideal of womanhood that is unachievable, we can emulate her willingness to stand up to power and demand that the oppressed be recognized. We view her downcast eyes as a representation of her gentle, loving spirit and she is not silenced easily- she persistently appeared to Juan Diego three times before the Bishop recognized him. She did not accept him backing down and inspired in him the courage to persevere. To Christian Latinas, she is more accessible than a Father God or His divine Son, Jesus.
Dolores Huerta, co-founder with Cesar Chavez of the United Farm Workers union, heroine of the Chicano Civil Rights Movement, and single mother of eleven, says, “I don’t think I could have survived without her. She is a symbol of faith, hope and leadership. She has been incorporated into everything we do,” she said, “If she’s not there, you notice her absence right away.” Mexicans and Chicanos have carried her image in just about every rally, march, picket, protest, and even battle for centuries. Anywhere there are people of Mexican decent advocating for social justice for their communities, chances are, the Virgin of Guadalupe’s image will be there as well. In fact, I was not at all shocked when, in some of the media coverage of the many nationwide protests of the hateful new Arizona immigration law, marchers have been carrying images and statues of her. No doubt the thought of a compassionate and persevering feminine representation of the divine is bringing strength to those in fear of what this law’s implementation may bring (or, has already brought) to their lives and to their families and communities.
In her essay, “Latinas and Religion: Subordination or State of Grace?”, Laura M. Padilla tells us that,
“The Virgin’s model allows us to discard the notion that we must accept our suffering with dignity, thus freeing us to turn our attention to how to alleviate that suffering, regardless of whether it consists of physical, emotional, economic, or spiritual abuseÉ [she] also turns from a top-down hierarchy where God speaks and we listen, to a model where we mutually communicate with compassionÉ [and] shows Latinas how to incorporate [our spirituality] into our lives in a holistic way that is not based on hierarchy, opposition, intolerance or superiority. Rather, she points us to a framework that incorporates the feminine, not to the exclusion of the masculine, but in balance with it.”
In the story, she chose to appear before a man, Juan Diego, demonstrating that although she is “divinely” feminine, she exists for men, as well. Men can also both be mothered by and guided by her, while also learning to emulate her maternal attributes of tender nurturance yet strong advocacy for one’s family. For Guadalupe, this family does not begin and end with bloodlines. Our family is made of up humanity, itself, for we are interconnected. The marginalized and the oppressor are both of her concern, as she reaches for the heart of the wealthy Bishop through the experience of the impoverished Juan Diego. Men may follow the example of her symbolism not only as the sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers of woman, but also as members of the human family who recognize that ignoring the suffering of others prohibits the privileged from realizing their full humanity.
In this way, the Virgin of Guadalupe has relevance and meaning not only for all genders, but I would argue, all people. In the way that the image and symbolism of the Virgin of Guadalupe transcends religion, language, gender, and national borders, she also transcends race. Just as she unites the diverse people of Mexican descent in a common cultural identity, so may she unite the world to a common cause of justice, of working to end all forms of oppression. Although she will always be the treasured product of the Mexican people, the strength of her symbolism has the potential to reach anyone looking for a loving yet righteously angry, gentle yet fierce, and patient yet persistent ally in the struggle.
As UU’s, so often we begin our prayers to “God of many names”. In the Virgin of Guadalupe, we recognize that one name for God is “Mother”. The feminine divine does exist in many traditions: Hindus have Kali, Lakshmi and others, Buddhists have Tara and Kwan Yin, and pagans may call her Gaea or Great Mother, to name just a few. The Virgin of Guadalupe is the manifestation of the feminine divine for this continent. She is our native goddess, Mother of the Americas, and offers the world her love, encouragement, and protection both to those who view her as a powerful symbol as well as to those who view her as a supernatural being with intercessory abilities.
Next time you see a candle, a keychain, a mural, or anything else that her ever-so-pervasive image adorns, see her for who she is to her people and who she can be for all- a powerful symbol of compassion, fortitude, and justice. Not a cultural cliche or tacky kitsch, but a reminder that we shall overcome, that Si Se Puede (Yes, it can be done), for she is Mary, Mary, Quite Revolutionary!
Rev. Peter Morales
President of the Unitarian Universalist Association
January 15, 2012
Audio of this service does not include the music and some of the readings due to technical constraints. An unabridged video of the complete service can be purchased from our bookstore. Podcasts of this service can also be found on iTunes. Keyword: Austin uu
Call to Celebration:
Rev. Bret Lortie, Minister, First UU Church of San Antonio
Chalice Lighting:
Reading:
Exerpt from The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan
Read by Rev. Kathleen Ellis, Co-Minister, Live Oak UU Church
O! You bad little thing! — said the woman, teasing her baby granddaughter. “Is Buddha teaching you to laugh for no reason?” As the baby continued to gurgle, the woman felt a deep wish stirring in hear heart. “Even if I could live forever,” she said to the baby, “I still don’t know which way I would teach you. I was once so free and innocent. I too laughed for no reason. But later I threw away my foolish innocence to protect myself. And then I taught my daughter, your mother, to shed her innocence so she would not be hurt as well. Little one, was this kind of thinking wrong?… ” The baby laughed, listening to her grandmother’s laments.
“O! O! you say you are laughing because you have already lived forever, over and over again? You say you are the Queen Mother of the Western Skies. now come back to give me the answer Good, good. I am listening . . . Thank you, little Queen. And you must teach my daughter this same lesson. How to lose your innocence but not your hope. How to laugh forever.”
Welcome:
Susan Thomson, President-Elect First UU Church of Austin
Greetings from the Austin Community:
State Representative Donna Howard
Reading:
Excerpt from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard
Read by Rev. Eliza Galaher, Wildflower UU Church
When the doctor took her bandages off and led her into the garden, the girl who was no longer blind saw “the tree with the lights in it.” It was for this tree I searched through the peach orchards of summer, in the forests of fall and down winter and spring for years. Then one day I was walking along Tinker Creek thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with the lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing than like being for the first time seen, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The lights of the fire abated, but I’m still spending the power. Gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells unflamed and disappeared. I was still ringing. I had my whole life been a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck. I have since only rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam.
Greetings from the Southwest UU Conference
Jennifer Nichols, District Director for Lifespan Faith Development
Charge to the Congregation
Andrea Lerner, DE Metro NY District
Reading: Credo by Judith Roche
Read by Sharon Moore and Michael Kersey,
Co-Chairs of the Ministerial Search Committee
I believe in the cave paintings at Lascaux,
the beauty of the clavicle,
the journey of the salmon,
her leap up any barrier,
the scent of home waters
she finds through celestial navigation.
I believe in all the gods -
I just don’t like some of them.
I believe the war is always against the imagination,
is recurring, repetitive, and relentless.
I believe in fairies, elves, angels and bodisatvas,
Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
I have seen and heard ghosts.
I believe that Raven invented the Earth
And so did Coyote. In archeology
lie the clues. The threshold is numinous
and the way in is the way out.
I believe in the alphabets – all of them -
and the stories seeping from their letters.
I believe in dance as prayer, that the heart
beat invented rhythm and chant -.
or is it the other way around -
I believe in the wisdom of the body.
I believe that art saves lives
and love makes it worth living them.
And that could be the other way around, too.
Offering for the Unitarian Universalist Association
Laurel Amabile
Sermon:
Peter Morales, President, Unitarian Universalist Association
Act of Installation:
Susan Thomson, President-Elect
Charge to the Minister
Kiya Heartwood
Reading: Fearing Paris by Marsha Truman Cooper
Read by Rev. Daniel O’Connell, Minister, First UU Church of Houston
Suppose that what you fear
could be trapped
and held in Paris.
Then you would have
the courage to go
everywhere in the world.
All the directions of the compass
open to you,
except the degrees east or west
of true north
that lead to Paris.
Still, you wouldn’t dare
put your toes
smack dab on the city limit line.
You’re not really willing
to stand on a mountainside,
miles away,
and watch the Paris lights
come up at night.
Just to be on the safe side
you decide to stay completely
out of France.
But then the danger
seems too close
even to those boundaries,
and you feel
the timid part of you
covering the whole globe again.
You need the kind of friend
who learns your secret and says,
“See Paris First.”
Reading: We have not come to take prisoners by Hafiz
Read by Brian Ferguson, Minister, San Marcos UU Fellowship
We have not come here to take prisoners,
But to surrender ever more deeply
To freedom and joy.
We have not come into this exquisite world
To hold ourselves hostage from love.
Run my dear,
From anything
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings.
Run like hell my dear,
From anyone likely
To put a sharp knife
Into the sacred, tender vision
Of your beautiful heart.
We have a duty to befriend
Those aspects of obedience
That stand outside of our house
And shout to our reason
“O please, O please,
Come out and play.”
For we have not come here to take prisoners
Or to confine our wondrous spirits,
But to experience ever and ever more deeply
Our divine courage, freedom and
Light!
Benediction: The Fountain by Denise Levertov
Read by Rev. Meg Barnhouse
Don’t say, don’t say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen
the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes
found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.
The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched – but not because
she grudged the water,
only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
refreshed.
Don’t say, don’t say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped
green and gray stones,
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.
It’s the simplest stitch of all. Tie a knot in one end of the thread, and slip the other end through the eye of a needle. Hold the fabric taut between your fingers, and pierce the fabric – not your fingers! – with the needle. Draw the thread up and through, and then, catch the fabric up on the tip of the needle, one, two, three, four times, and pull the thread through. Smooth it all out and there is your clear running stitch. It is the Paleolithic stitch that first pulled together two pieces of hide, two pieces of matted wool, two pieces of handspun cotton, or two pieces of the lightest woven silk to make something useful. Ecclesiates tells us there is a time to rend, and a time to sew. This is a time to at least consider sewing.
A few years back I offered to teach a group of Camp Fire kids how to sew some simple garments. Most of the parents agreed to help their kids, but one girl’s mom wasn’t able to help. No problem. Eleven-year-old Mary was well behaved and smart enough that I knew she would be fine just following along with me. I told her to show up with a couple of yards of fabric and we’d go from there. When they came to my house, instead of just dropping Mary off, the mom hung around to talk. I was polite, but turned my attention to the matter of fabric, choosing a pattern, etc. The fabric they brought was a sensible, solid blue. It was the blue of those coverall jumpsuits my great uncles used to wear when they worked on engines. And, given the navy pants and plain white blouse Mary was wearing, I guessed that vanity was discouraged in their home. But that blue fabric was just too ugly to mess with. Instead, I told Mary to dig through my stash of fabrics – that’s what it’s called – a “stash”. She found a nice piece of calico with a light blue background, sprigged with tiny white flowers. It would be perfect for her skirt.
Meanwhile, her mother was explaining why she would not be able to help us. You see, she explained, her mother had never taught her to sew, never wanted her to sew because her mother wanted her to be an engineer, or a scientist. She didn’t want her to be limited to girl’s work, or be tied down by domestic drudgery. I listened politely while quietly showing Mary how to find the fabric’s grain so the garment would hang right, and how to lay and pin the delicate tissue paper pattern correctly. I listened to the mom tell me that it was her mother’s insistence that she never learn to cook or sew because she presumed that she would be earning so much money that someone else would always be doing that work for her. So that is why she never learned to sew and why she got a professional degree… Finally, I’d had enough. I turned to Mary who was carefully pinning and cutting out the pieces, and said “If you think about it, sewing is really a type of construction based upon engineering. And it’s a bit tricky because you are working with a flexible material with the goal of covering a moving body. It takes a fair amount of math and planning, and you have to understand the properties of the material and how bodies move if you want to have something worth wearing. Badly sewn clothes are really quite uncomfortable.” Eventually the mom ran out of excuses and left us in peace.
Mary learned how to make a loose running stitch and pull the thread to gather up the fabric, how to fit differently sized pieces together, how to create a waistband tunnel to run elastic through, and how to hem the bottom evenly. Within a couple of hours she had finished a lovely three-tier skirt. She knew every thing about that garment. There was no mystery to it because she had sewn it herself. And, when she finally slipped it on to her delicate waist, she looked down at her work and did what any young girl would do – she twirled around to see the skirt flare out and swing around. It was a magical moment. Even if she never sews another thing in her entire life, she understands the basics and when she looks at the inside, the underside, the lining, or the back – she will see how something was put together.
I want you to do something here – just a moment. I want you to look at the inside of your sleeve, or the hem of your shirt or pants. Look at the threads holding that fabric in place. You will probably see an even line of stitching. Maybe there is a complex web of threads to bind the fabric and keep it from fraying. Maybe the thread is a contrasting color, or maybe it matches the fabric so well that you can barely see it on the right side of the garment.
Someone’s hands did that work. Every thing we are wearing was sewn by another human being. Every pillow case, sleeping bag, backpack, and tent was sewn by someone. Every sofa cushion, slip cover, and seat belt was guided through a sewing machine by a skilled worker. The suits the astronauts wore were assembled by expert seamstresses who had never sewn such a thing before, but they put their minds and machines to work, and sewed suits to protect fragile human bodies from the cold of space.
Even in this era of astonishing technology, there is still no machine where you stuff a bale of cotton in one end and remove a pair of pants from the other. We are still doing pretty much what our ancestors did – cutting a flat cloth into pieces, and sewing the pieces together to cover our shivering naked selves.
Maybe your mother sewed clothes for you when you were younger? If you came in with a tear on your sleeve or a rip in your britches, did your mom work some kind of mundane miracle of mending? Along with my 10″ chef’s knife and my pen, my sewing basket is one of my most powerful weapons against chaos. Like many women, I sewed clothes for my children when they were young simply because they were so beautiful and store bought clothes were so unimaginative. My kids got to pick out the fabrics so that instead of the same old football, soccer ball, baseball, or truck, my son’s pants had penguins and frogs and feathers and fish! Unless you look closely, you might not see the places where I’ve patched and repaired the rips and three-cornered tears where one of us snagged on a fence, or caught on a nail.
A woman I spoke with explained that when she is sewing a quilt it might mean assembling 35 blocks of pieced fabrics. She cuts, and stitches, and presses the same thing 35 times. It becomes a meditative time and as her hands work, her mind travels out into its quiet fascinating places. If it will be a gift, she might be thinking of the people who will receive the quilt. It’s impossible to put a prayer into every stitch, but she takes care to choose fabrics that will bring a smile to the person who snuggles under that quilt at night.
A man who quilts simply says “it’s my safe place”. His quilts are dazzlingly intricate – each one is made up of thousands of small pieces of bright cloth. He listens to audio books while he works and has listened to Tolstoy and Dostoevsky and other great writers whose books we all mean to get around to reading, if only we had the time. And while he listens, his hands cut, and piece, and pin and sew artwork of kaleidoscopic brilliance. This world would be a calmer place if all of us had such safe places for our creativity.
Choosing fabric takes practice and it requires a sort of Buddhist lack of attachment off-set by a hoarder’s mania. Choosing a color is only part of it. You also have to feel fabric to determine the quality, the drape, any stretch or texture to it. When we are searching for fabric, we move through the store shopping with our hands — touching, rubbing, tugging, and even just waving it to watch how it moves. It’s getting harder to find high quality fabrics so there is a certain amount of scowling when I shop. And the goddess will just laugh at you if you think that you simply MUST have a certain fabric because you will not find it. Or you will find the Perfect Fabric but not the Perfect Pattern. Or vice versa. We learn to buy up the fabric when we find it and then wait for the pattern to show up. Or vice versa. This is how fabric stashes grow rather large.
I was lucky to learn to sew from my mom – who taught me the 4-H correct way – and from my stepmother who taught me all the ways to adapt a pattern, be creative, and have fun. My mother’s fabulous dresses sewn from Indonesian batiks fit her beautifully because she sized them to her petite frame. My stepmother opened up her own business doing everything from simple alternations up to designing and sewing gorgeous wedding dresses. Both of them drew upon deep patience to teach me. And, while I don’t have the time to sew as much as I’d like, when I spread out the fabric and pick up my shears, I have them both, and all of my grandmothers, along with me for every stitch.
Another woman I know was like many of us – forced to learn sewing in school. Girls learned sewing, boys learned woodshop. You know — the natural order of things… But she resisted sewing and hated it for the sexist holdover it was! She made her damn skirt moaning and groaning the whole time and was done with it. But then… as an adult, one day she picked up a book on quilting and was stunned – it was the most beautiful thing she had seen. The book pulled her in and in time she taught herself everything about quilting from the ground up – how to use a sewing machine – how to BUY a sewing machine. She found delight in all the odd doo-dads that someone, some where (probably a woman, probably in a snit) had invented to solve a specific sewing problem. Did you know, there really is such a thing as a bodkin? It’s very useful when you’re turning something skinny inside out. A fat safety pin works well too. As my friend learned to make quilts, she developed a respect for the ingenuity and engineering that paved the way for her. She loves choosing the colors, and that moment when she drops in a little piece of lavender or orange and the whole thing turns spectacular. And, when she sews a quilt – she is verrry selective of who receives them. Each one is more than a blanket, it is a gift of her precious time.
Sewing these days is anachronistic. It takes patience to learn how to sew and practice to learn to sew well enough to make something you’d want to wear out in public. Why bother? Someone else can do it better, cheaper, faster. And they are probably happy to have the work. I mean, it’s not like we really have slavery any more. Those people are skilled laborers who get paid. Right? Well… I don’t want to depress you with details, but if you pay $5 for a tee shirt, you can be pretty sure that the person who sewed it did not even make fifty cents for their work. And even if you pay $50 for a shirt, you still can’t be sure that the person in Vietnam, or the North Marianas, or Nicaragua was paid a fair wage. If you are vigilant, you can research your clothing choices, but there’s not a lot of “fair trade” garments on the market right now. Unless you sew your own. When I wear something I’ve sewn, I know the only person who was unfairly compensated or exploited was ME!
So what else can you do? How can you stand in opposition to a global economy that treats workers and their products as disposable commodities? It’s unrealistic for all of us to learn to sew clothing. But here’s a suggestion – treat every piece of clothing you own as if it were hand made especially for you. It might not have been hand-stitched, but hands guided the fabric through the cutting, stitching, and pressing. When you put on your shirt, consider the hands that carefully spaced the buttons and made sure they were secure. Think of the hands that folded it and wrapped it up for you. Wear it well. If the button falls off, catch it quick and sew it back on. And, when it is worn beyond repair, snip off the buttons – they might come in handy some day — and use the fabric as a rag to wipe your windows clean. Do you have a garment you love but that doesn’t fit quite right? Take it to a local seamstress for alterations or repairs so that it fits you – as you are right now, not when you’ve lost or gained or have an interview. And, when you pay that person and you’ll keep a few dollars in our local economy.
And, here’s my last recommendation: If someone gives you something they sewed, please don’t say “Oh! It’s so pretty. I’ll save it for sometime special” and then never use it. That would be missing the point. Put it on! Spread it out! Let the baby spit up on it! Hang it up where you will grab for it when you are in a rush. Wrap yourself up in it! And then twirl around slowly and see if the love swirls about you.
Widening our circle of compassion, opening our hearts, embracing life, living large…these are expressions of growing out, the theme of today’s examination of maturing. Most often, I think of it as unconditional love or attentive presence. This involves learning to acknowledge, allow, open to and inquire into the experience that each of us has of what is, without trying to have some other experience than the one we are in. This can be difficult.
Interestingly, there’s little in our Western experiences of community, religion, spirituality and psychology that helps us develop the capacity for unconditional presence. Most of what we learn in school, church and society sends us an opposite message — setting boundaries, isolating, developing caution and fear. These examples result in the tendency to turn away from aspects of our lives that are painful, unpleasant or threatening. They teach us that we must be strong — and that strength is about having power over. Yet from the East there’s a different lesson. The Tao Teh Ching reveals that genuine power is gentle and kind.
Chapter 8 begins: “The highest good is like water. Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive. It flows in places men reject and so is like the Tao.”
Chapter 13 concludes with this couplet: “Surrender yourself humbly; then you can be trusted to care for all things. Love the world as your own self; then you can truly care for all things.”
In Chapter 22 it says: “Yield and overcome.” And from Chapter 43: “The softest thing in the universe overcomes the hardest thing in the universe.”
Obviously, there is truth in both the teachings of West and East…and the both-and is a preferable balance to the either-or. Yet growing out, as the quality of maturing that we are exploring today asks the question: how can we expand our embrace into a quality of presence, awareness and equanimity that is able to respond with openness to unpleasantries, wherever and whenever they show up, most often in our relationships with family, friends, neighbors and our world?
Consider the idea of healing. We all have our scars. I have scars from various injuries, some more serious than others. They don’t go away no matter how much lotion, or massage or therapy I undertake. I have to learn to live with them. Part of this process is my recognition of how how I was affected. I’ve had to develop a different relationship to my wounds and because of them. Every time I see them and feel them, I recognize what they mean to me. My life has a different shape because of my scars. Healing does not mean the absence of suffering. It means learning from its presence. Recall the final words of the poem (The Cure by Anonymous) read by Eric (Stimmel, Lay Leader) before our time of contemplation.
And life is as natural as a leaf.
That’s what we’re looking for:
not the end of a thing but the shape of it.
Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life
without getting over a single
instant of it.
Have you heard of the practice of Tonglen? It’s described in some of Pema Chodren’s work. Do you know her? She’s a westerner who received training as a teacher of the Kagyu Tibetan Buddhist lineage of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, the wild Tibetan master, author of Cutting through Spiritual Materialism and other powerful books, and who taught in Boulder, Colorado in the ’70s. He founded the Shambhala Training and the Naropa Institute. Chodron has written numerous books, including Getting Unstuck and When Things Fall Apart.
Tonglen is an integrative meditation consisting of a breathing practice with thoughts, visualizations and especially feelings. In Tonglen one vizualizes a real condition for which great compassion is needed, like domestic abuse, and inhales the feelings of pain, violence and anger. You breathe in and actually take on this issue physically, mentally, emotionally and consciously. One literally feels into the condition, making it as imaginatively real as possible. Then with the out-breath, one exhales compassion into the situation. This means one must access genuine compassion in the midst of distress, a beneficial exercise in itself. Tonglen is a practice of a Bodhisattva (translated as “awakened being”), a compassionate one, who willingly takes on and transmutes the energy of violence, hate, abuse, war, terrorism, overpopulation, genocide, environmental degradation and other forms of dis-ease. Tonglen is a very personal practice that can result in very transpersonal changes.
Pema Chodron writes: “If your everyday practice is open to all your emotions, to all the people you meet, to all the situations you encounter, without closing down, trusting that you can do that — then that will take you as far as you can go. And then you’ll understand all the teachings that anyone as ever taught.”
Can you imagine being that open and willing with your embrace?
Maturity begins when we can understand the basic distresses and blocks that are at the root of our immaturity, personally and collectively. I often speak from the pulpit about that which I find to be true and basic. Perhaps a most basic truth has to do with acceptance. No matter where you are or what the circumstances, come to terms and become friendly with yourself and with the present moment. Because if you do not accept the present moment, you’re not friendly with life because life is only now. Some call it “the eternal now.” If you’re not friendly with life, life cannot support you.
The nature of our basic distress as human beings is that we continually judge, reject and turn away from areas of our lives that cause us discomfort, pain or anxiety. We think that if we can just get rid of these areas then we’ll suffer less, we’ll finally be comfortable. What happens however, is that in getting rid of our problems, we simply trade these concerns for a new set of concerns that keep us just as distressed as before, lending truth to the aphorism that what you resist persists. Changing circumstances isn’t the answer. Changing ourselves is.
We are all involved somehow in an inner struggle. It’s the human condition and no one gets a free pass. This inner struggle keeps us inwardly divided. This in antithetical to our nature as individuals; individual means undivided. We are constantly cutting ourselves off from the totality of who we are.
Of this totality, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote (in his essay The Oversoul):
“Within us is the soul of the whole,
The wise silence,
The universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related;
The eternal One…
When it breaks through our intellect, it is genius;
When it breathes through our will, it is virtue;
When it flows through our affections, it is love.”
This is a picture of our true nature. This is our goal. What we mostly experience is an emotional programming that contracts our bodies and minds, shuts us down, like a safety valve, keeping us from flowing when we perceive danger or threat. This is our way of survival, of protecting ourselves. Yet in cutting off our anger, our need for love, our openness, our sexuality, we form negative judgments against these parts of ourselves and of others. Hence we become disabled and disabling of others.
For example, say we didn’t get the love we needed as a child. One typical response is to contract our feelings when this need for love arises. We learned it is simply too painful to feel the rejection or unfulfilment. Hence we develop an emotional pattern or program, such that even as adults, when we continue to feel a need for love, we shut down our awareness of it. We become unable to function in areas of our life that evoke feelings we’ve never been able to tolerate. We contract and close off. This may be at the root of not asking for help and our incessant drive to do it my way. This is 180 degrees from opening our embrace as Einstein suggests (in a Letter of 1950, as quoted in The New York Times 29 March 1972 and The New York Post 28 November 1972 and read by our Lay Leader today as our Call to Worship -
“A human being is a part of the whole, called by us Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest — a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security.”) or of the poetic description of Emerson of the soul of the whole.
This programming creates a false self, a personal self-image and identity based on distress. With such a pattern we are faced with the challenge of having to continually display this identity and prop it up like the mask that it is. We fuel it with stories about our reality, our parents, former or current spouses or friends. Stories like: men are emotionally unavailable, women are crazy, certain people can’t be trusted, etc. This petty and divisive false self system can lock us into a distortion of life and drain our energy that instead could be feeding our true nature, that of our larger self — the soul of the whole.
Hence, the call to maturing is a call to recognize this burdensome facade and to become a real explorer of the vast embrace of the Universe.
In order to grow out, to expand our embrace, to welcome what is we must expose our wounds which lie at the root of our disconnection from our larger being. We must engage our suffering directly. Of course, it’s hard to let ourselves feel our pain. We’ve spent our lives masking it, denying it, avoiding it. Our society, education and experiences reinforce the delusion of separateness. As in 12 step recovery work, the first thing we must do is acknowledge our distress, our human condition. That’s one of the reasons we meet here. An important component of our gathering is to connect with ourself and each other in honesty and humility.
There are many ways to observe life. There’s the view that we do make mistakes. We have failed to do as we would. We act and feel imperfectly. There’s also the view that there are no real mistakes, that all things work together to make life what it is.
Nisargadatta Maharaj says: “Nobody ever fails in Yoga. It is all a matter of the rate of progress. It is slow in the beginning and rapid in the end. When one is fully matured, realization is explosive. It takes place spontaneously, or at the slightest hint. The quick is not better than the slow. Slow ripening and rapid flowering alternate. Both are natural and right.”
Whatever our view, let’s get straight with ourselves and each other. We also need each other. We need to receive love — to give love.
And so I encourage us to develop an antidote to the emotional programming of our false self system, and that is in developing unconditional presence and a wider embrace. It starts within each of us. We must connect with that which shuts us down and accept what is. We must exercise our innate awareness to recognize (re-cognize) our dilemma.
I’m no expert in human behavior. Truth is, no one is. That’s because our true nature is unbounded and open-ended. We have yet to experience who we really are, who we fully are. As Unitarian Universalists we are committed by covenant to an exploration of our true and unlimited potential as human beings. We want to see evolution continue and to cooperate with it in every way possible.
I can say with confidence that if we wish to mature, we must learn to bring awareness to our false selves, to bring it out in the open, so that we can stop investing so much energy in propping it up. We must devote more and more of our energy and attention to the fact of our true nature. Our true nature may be seldom seen, but does not have to live for us as merely the poetic and visionary potential of an Einstein or Emerson. We are the people we’ve been waiting for!
Fact is, like the air that surrounds us and often goes unnoticed as a source of the life force in our breathing, unconditional presence is also already always here. It lies within, beneath the layers created by our busy and judgmental minds. Unconditional love and presence is accessible to everyone and is, in fact, our most intimate reality.
Whenever we open into our larger self and our unconditional presence, our conditioned self or our emotional programming tries to run away or else, says, “I know that,” and puts the experience in a familiar box. Fact is, our false selves can’t fix ourselves and neither can anyone else. Our natural opening, maturing and expansive embrace will only come when we can see and feel our truth. And truth shows up against the background of our sustained awareness of our facades, programming and dis-ease.
Sorry, no quick fix. However, like I’m find of saying, “You have to do your work, and you can’t do it alone.” We are a community in covenant to work out our lives together. As our awareness of unconscious patterns of our false selves starts to be seen, it becomes conscious. This awakens our desire and will to a new life. This new life is the life that is our real and present experience, that accepts our life as it is. It takes awareness.
This description may not fit the picture that our mind wants, just as those we are related to don’t always measure up. Folks, the world is in a mess and if you are paying attention, if you live from awareness, you’ll risk heart break. Yet our broken, open and fragile nature is the one that can open wide its arms in expansive embrace. We need to become vulnerable in order to be mature. “The softest thing in the universe overcomes the hardest thing in the universe.” Paradoxically we need to be vulnerable to be solid.
Understanding our false nature and the possibilities of our true nature is a start. It’s the beginning of self-awareness and self-acceptance. It provides compassion for ourselves and for others whom we may begin to understand are afflicted with the same human condition. We need to heal our separation from ourselves and those we meet everyday. We need to heal our separation from the life we know as our daily reality. This is true for us and for our whole world.
Let us join together in opening our arms in a wide embrace. Here’s a vision: imagine opening to all and fully accepting your present reality. Imagine transforming your identity into its full and unique part of the interdependent web of all existence. Imagine living so large that even the specter of death would appear as a friendly and fearless embrace of the Universe, which is not other than you. Our greatest difficulties provide us with our greatest opportunities.
Barbara Gay Stoddard
Interim Director of LifeSpan Religious Education
September 25, 2011
Show Up, Choose Your Attitude, Make Someone’s Day and Play are the four principles of living from the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market. I’ll consider how these principles have informed my life and keep me smiling.
Barbara Stoddard has been a professional religious educator for 15 years. She has served as the interim religious educator beginning in 2003 for UU churches in New Jersey, Virginia, Massachusetts, Maryland, Seattle and Houston. In addition to her work as an interim she helped design and teach the training for Interim Religious Educators. She is so very happy to be with First UU for the next two years.
“Flying Fish Make me Smile”
Or living by the Principles of the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market… “Show Up, Choose Your Attitude, Make Someone’s Day and Play”
Barbara Stoddard September 25, 2011 First Unitarian Universalist Church Austin
Years ago, I met a woman in my UU church in Manchester, NH named Charlene. She was a motivational speaker and great advocate for positive thinking. Charlene was beautiful, intelligent always had perfect hair and a wonderful smile, 3 gorgeous children and a very handsome husband. I wanted to be Charlene, but I could never quite embrace all that positive attitude stuff. After all, I was still in my 20s, full of angst, a divorced single mother, whose ex had deserted my daughter his child- never to contact her again until she was 15 years old.
Year’s later, Charlene shared with me that her life was not as perfect as it appeared. There were many heartbreaks and illness and money issues they had suffered through. But, they survived by loving each other and helping others and sharing positive energy to all those around them. She gave me a gift by telling me that it was my own sense of joy and wonder and love about life and people that helped make me a survivor and also helped those around me feel better.
Charlene was showing up, choosing her attitude, making someone’s day, and playing long before it was a part of the success story of the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market. And I bet, if I were to call her today, she’d tell me she had incorporated the philosophy in her own speeches.
Music has always very important to me. Perhaps one could say it’s been the core of my existence. I was a child of the 60s so of course there were the Beatles, but mostly I adored my folk singers like Judy Collins and Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell. I was going to be all of them when I grew up.
Music was always there for me in times of silliness, joy, hope, tragedy, sorrows, elation, passion, pain and the mundane. Music provided my first connection to UUism – when I was 18 years old attending Columbia College, a Methodist woman’s college, in Columbia, SC – I became part of a folk singing group called the Ladybugs. My beloved Ladybugs and I were asked to sing at a service at the Columbia UU Fellowship. They met at that time in a big green house, a small group of children went to one part of house for classes after a story while the adults listened to a speaker and then discussed the topic. I remember we sang “where have all the flowers gone” and other anti-war songs. It was the first time as a singer I got the chance to speak my values through music. I was exhilarated and wanted more of this UU thing.
A few years later, my now ex-husband and I were living in Manchester, NH – We were- house parents for 3 adults with cognitive disabilities and a year old baby in tow. We went to the Episcopal church in town. That morning the priest spoke about loving each other. Reaching out to strangers, etc. etc. etc. But when we walked out of church, he rebuffed this strange little family of mine in a way that devastated me. Wasn’t the church a place we could bring our joys and pains and be hugged and loved. Later as we mulled over our experience – I asked (being very new to New England) Do you suppose there are any UUs around here? Well – hallelujah there were. We next attended the Manchester UU church, walked in the door. Our minister, Elium Gault – greeted us with the biggest smile and heartiest handshake I’ve ever known. We were home.
The church continued from that first day forward to nurture us and care for us. They were my daughter Dayna’s and my extended family for over 20 years. They saw me with a guitar in hand and asked me to be a youth advisor, and sing at services. Over the years the church held fundraisers to purchase 2 different guitars for me. They held Dayna and me even closer as we went through divorce, poverty, and perils of life. They nurtured me by helping me discover that I had gifts beyond my knowing. I really discovered my singing voice, I found out I loved working with children. I further developed the comedienne that I can sometimes be, the organizer, the advocate, the storyteller, and on and on. They hired me to be their DRE for a couple of years. They got me to go to RE Week at Star Island (a UU conference center – off the coast of NH) for the fist time in 1985 – this has since and forever will be my “spirit’s home.” Any of you that have attended a UU summer experience know from whence I speak. These are life changing moments. The love is intensely felt.
I was always singing, performing and playing the guitar during the years I raised my child. My daughter would never really sing with me -I didn’t discover until she was older – how intense her own need and love of music had and continues to be. I didn’t even think she knew or cared for anything I sang – until I discovered that she was the one gen Xers that knew all the folk songs and even mimicked me doing some of my silliest ditties.
I’ve discovered for both of us that music actually gave us a voice in our worlds, but it also comforts us in great times of need. It has not been easy for either one of us. We’ve each made some really bad decisions and have had quite messy lapses in wisdom. But we have also found great love and hope that always surrounds us. We are both survivors of varying degrees of pain but through it all we pull out our songs and we remember the strength within that gives us the freedom to continually soar and soar again. Music has helped us choose better attitudes, make someone’s day and certainly helped us play.
But there have been times when the music has actually died for me in my life. Times when it gave no joy, no comfort, no solace, no laughter, no hope. I hid from music as it might open my heart. In my life, when music wouldn’t help I’d find solace in the next place which for me was food.
I’ve been overweight most of my life. There have been varying degrees of the weight I carried. I’ve even seen old pictures of myself that I didn’t recognize, I was so thin. But no matter the weight, I performed in front of people, usually confident at work, playing with my child, falling in love, volunteering for the women’s crisis service, and teaching in RE classes and so much more.
As I grew older, despite my weight I developed self confidence, sense of purpose, recognition of gifts I had, understanding of the world around me, and the impact I had on people in my life. I actually started liking myself and I understood that what was in my heart was so much more important than how good I looked. But I think I forgot that being healthy was actually more important than how I looked as well.
After my daughter was grown and left home, I decided to go to college again, this time to get certified to teach K-8th grade. I went home to live with my mother in Ft. Inn, SC. I went to Clemson and joined the Greenville UU Fellowship. And yes, that is when I first heard about our own Meg Barnhouse. I was home in a way even though as a child my family never lived in one place more than 5 years – it was home because mom was there. It was a good thing. We both got to know each other as the incredible women we are.
My first teaching job was one that I should never have been placed in. I was the wrong person for the children I taught. I was teaching at an alternative school for Jr. high students that were placed there as the last resort. A myriad of emotional and behavioral and criminal issues and hard family lives. I looked like the lady that only had experience popping bon bons all day and how the hell did I know what they were going through. I wasn’t good at the job. I was an out an out failure. I came home every night in deep despair, frightened and worried. I ate and ate. My blood pressure sky rocketed and I was on the verge of a heart attack. My doctor advised that I quit. I quit. I had failed. And it was then that I went into a new self imposed depression that included no music, no joy, no hope, I went into a cocoon of safety and never wanted to come out again, I felt as though the music in me had literally died.
But after my failure, I needed to find a way to fly again. I returned to a part of the country that for some reason feeds my soul. I returned to New England this time settling in on the coast of New Hampshire = right on Rte.1A, where I could look out at the ocean when I woke in the morning and also see my beloved Star Island every day. I needed to be back where my spirit would find a new path a new journey a new source of freedom, of joy, where my music might live again.
I think I returned to New England, because it was that part of the world that had really given me my UU community. I knew people all over the area, they knew me. They knew the gifts I had, they knew and understood my idiosyncrasies, they understood that I had flaws but they loved me and embraced me because they knew and believed I had great potential to continue to find my soaring ways again.
Yes, I survived my teaching disasters and with the help of love from a lot of friends I found grace. I’ve been in and out of cocoons (so to speak) so many times but each time I emerge from that cocoon stronger than ever.
Now, over the last 10 years, I’ve many wonderful successes both personally and professionally, but at the same time I subconsciously sunk into a new low and began an assault on my body that eventually got to a point that I could no longer deal with. No matter what I’d do, couldn’t lose weight. I was broken, I felt miserable – I tried hypnosis, nutrisystem, weight watchers, Jenny Craig, etc. etc. etc. I started losing my personality. Oh I’d manage to bring myself forward as best I could when at work and around children. But it was a struggle. I looked horrible, I couldn’t breathe correctly which affected my singing. I gave in to it all. I got canes to help me move around – I wont’ even bother to list all the medical issues due to being so heavy.
I felt so physically burdened, that I found no joy in my life and work and no energy for play. Being so very overweight – saps all the energy from you even the energy to love yourself and others around you. I was giving up. I wasn’t showing up for me. One week on a diet I’d say – well I’ve done that – lets move on. I felt I was a failure at life a failure at love a failure at, joy and I was no good for anyone.
When I arrive at Emerson UU in Houston, in 2009 I was at my heaviest, 280 lbs. I eventually had 4 doctors caring for me and all my health issues. They all said the same thing – lose weight. My hematologist lovingly said, your primary doctor and I were talking about you – have you ever considered Gastric bypass. I said yes but I was afraid. He directed me to the clinic where I finally had the surgery last November.
To say that I’ve changed is an understatement. I’ve lost over 110 lbs so far and still need to lose more to reach my goal. But, I’ve thrown out the cane, I climb the stairs, I walk, I exercise, I eat properly, I breath, I breath, I’m singing again. I’ve found joy and I’ve chosen positive attitude (most of the time), and the days that I make someone else smile are my happiest days.
In the book Switch, How to change things when change is hard. by Chip Heath and Dan Heath. They write: “The conventional wisdom in psychology, is that the brain has two independent systems at work at all times. First, there’s what we called the emotional side. It’s the part of you that is instinctive, that feels pain and pleasure. Second, there’s the rational side, also known as the reflective or conscious system. It’s the part of you that deliberates and analyzes and looks into the future.”
The authors’ feel the “tension between the two brain systems is captured best by an analogy used by University of Virginia psychologist Jonathan Haidt in his book The Happiness Hypothesis. Haidt says that our emotional side is an Elephant and our rational side is its Rider. Perched atop the Elephant, the Rider holds the reins and seems to be the leader. but the Rider’s control is precarious because the Rider is so small relative to the Elephant. Anytime the six-ton Elephant and the Rider disagree about which direction to go, the Rider is going to lose. He’s completely overmatched.” They continue to state that “most of us are all too familiar with situations in which our Elephant overpowers our Rider. You’ve experienced this if you’ve ever slept in, overeaten, dialed up your ex at midnight, procrastinated, tried to quit smoking and failed, skipped the gym, gotten angry and said something you regretted, abandoned your Spanish or piano lessons, refused to speak up in a meeting because you were scared, and so on. “
They explain that “the weakness of the Elephant, our emotional and instinctive side, is clear: It’s lazy and skittish, often looking for the quick payoff (ice cream cone) over the long-term payoff (being thin). When change efforts fail, it’s usually the Elephants fault, since the kinds of change we want typically involve short-term sacrifices for long-term payoffs. Changes often fail because the Rider simply can’t keep the Elephant on the road long enough to reach the destination.”
“The Elephant’s hunger for instant gratification is the opposite of the Rider’s strength, which is the ability to think long-term, to plan, to think beyond the moment (all those things that your pet can’t do.)”
“But the Elephant also has enormous strengths and that the Rider has crippling weaknesses. The Elephant isn’t always the bad guy. Emotion is the Elephant’s turf – love and compassion and sympathy and loyalty.. That fierce instinct you have to protect your kids against harm – that’s the Elephant. That spine-stiffening you feel when you need to stand up for yourself – that’s the Elephant.”
“And even more important if you’re contemplating a change, the Elephant is the one who get s things done. To make progress toward a goal, whether it’s noble or crass, requires the energy and drive of the Elephant And this strength is the mirror image of the Rider’s great weakness: spinning his wheels. The Rider tends to over analyze and over think these things.”
As the authors point out, “if you want to change things, you’ve got to appeal to both. The Rider provides the planning and direction, and the Elephant provides the energy.. So if you reach the Riders of your team but not the Elephants, team members will have understanding without motivation. If you reach their Elephants but not their Riders, they’ll have passion without direction. In both cases, the flaws can be paralyzing. A reluctant Elephant and a wheel -spinning Rider can both ensure that nothing changes. But when Elephants and Riders move together, change can come easily.”
I think perhaps this is why I’ve found a love for the interim work that I do. I get to use both my rider and elephant while helping beloved communities such as First UU Austin find the balance. I feel a wee bit more competent and confident in my own ability to do this with each new interim and I learn more about how churches function and how I function as a leader. It’s a fantastic, exhilarating place to be. But…..
In my personal life – forget it. Elephant 90% of the time. Fortunately, in mine and for most of us I suspect, the elephant does get tired and wants a little help. That’s the time when perhaps, we stop and say I need to listen to the rational side of me I need to rest and analyze why I do what I do, or where I’m going, or what I want. , I’m too tired to feel the passion for the things I love. I need to stop. That’s why I was able to make the decision that I couldn’t lose weight by my own will. I needed outside forces to help me find success and to re-learn what it is and who it is that exists in this body.
As I’ve begun this personal/physical transformation, I know that I have more weight to lose, that I still and always need to exercise and eat healthy and care for myself in ways that I let fall by the wayside in the past. I’ve had to rediscover all the things I love and love to do and that I love people. I love people. I was getting to a point where I couldn’t bear to be with people because I couldn’t bear to be with myself. Ah, the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would do unto yourself.” I wasn’t being very nice to me – how could I find the energy to be nice to others. When I’m in right relationship with myself, (in the words of Iris Dement) I can give joy to my mother, and I can make my lover smile., and I can give comfort to my friends when they’re hurting and I can make it feel better for a while.
Does this mean all my trials are over. Of course, not – I still have many worries and people to take care of and love and aches and pains and bad hair days ahead. But now, the excitement that wells up inside me – the joy that I am feeling right now about attending the connections fair later, and the excitement of moving into my new apartment on Oct. 13 is delightful. The happiness of seeing my 91 year old mother twice this summer and the fun I had literally running around with my 2 grandsons is indescribable. Oh I’m still mostly that Elephant – but my Rider is firmly attached and helping me push on the walls of my cocoons and guiding me as I fly through this wonderful thing called life.
While I have many friends that are not UU, I am so blessed to have found so many loving UU communities that over and over again, hold me, call me to look beyond myself, but also call on me to love myself , communities that support and restore my soul. That love is miraculous.
So I say to you, Remember the Pike Place Fishmongers and start throwing fish around. Show Up, Choose your attitude, Make Someone’s Day, and Play. Fly with the freedom to explore, fly with the freedom to fill your soul with all that you are, fly with the joy of giving and receiving, fly with the wonder of discovering who you are and the gifts you have – each day is a blessing when the spirit of beloved community is there to embrace you. And when you need to rest, or seek comfort or find peace of mind, know that we are with you in those moments as well as the moments of joy and play. We are here for you always. Blessed Be.
Text of this sermon is not available. Click the play button to listen. Audio is also available for free download at iTunes. Keyword: austin uu
Henry David Thoreau is generally recognized as one of us, a UU. He most famously lived for two years at Walden Pond and wrote of his life and observances while there. His quest at Walden and at other times in his life reflect a search for meaning and simplicity that we can apply to our lives today.
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