Is there a place for God in Unitarian Universalism?

Andrew Young
December 30, 2012

Welcome to First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin. Whether this is your first time or you’ve been coming all your life, we welcome you.

My name is Andrew Young. I have been a member of this church for five and a half years and for two and a half of those years I have been the Youth Programming Coordinator, which means that I am in charge of our middle school and high school youth programs. Although I am still in this role, I am entering into a new role as well. This Sunday marks the end of my first semester at Starr King School for the Ministry where I am pursuing a Master of Divinity degree in preparation for ordination as Unitarian Universalist minister.

Today’s service is a part of my final project for a class aptly named “History of UU Religious Practices” in which we’ve studied how our liturgy has evolved since the Puritans arrived in North America. The word liturgy refers to the rituals of the church, especially the structure and format of the Sunday service since that is the primary ritual of our church. As such, this service diverges somewhat from our normal Sunday service in both format and content and I apologize in advance for any confusion this might cause.

The elements of today’s service and the selection of its hymns are rooted in our Unitarian and Universalist traditions. The hymns are from a hymnal published in 1955 that was used by both the Unitarians and the Universalists before the two denominations merged. Our responsive reading is taken from a Unitarian hymnal published in 1907.

It is sometimes said that the work of religion is to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. Today’s service is sure to do both. We will deal with topics that may be uncomfortable for some of you due to your past experiences, and my intent is not to make light of or invalidate your feelings on these topics. We each bring our own experiences to the conversation and all I ask is that you keep an open mind and reflect on how each element of the service today affects you. Pay special attention to the words and phrases which trigger strong emotions for you, either positive or negative.

Now, as we begin our sacred time together, please join me in reading the words for lighting our chalice which are printed in your order of service.

Love is the doctrine of this church,
The quest of truth is its sacrament,
And service is its prayer
To dwell together in peace,
To seek knowledge in freedom,
To serve human need,
To the end that all souls shall grow into harmony with the Divine —
Thus do we covenant with each other and with God.

Invocation / Prayer

Please join me in an attitude of prayer.

La Eternulo estas mia paŝtisto; mi mankon ne havos.
Sur verdaj herbejoj Li ripozigas min, Apud trankvilaj akvoj Li kondukas min.
Li kvietigas mian animon; Li kondukas min laŭ vojo de la vero, pro Sia nomo.
Eĉ kiam mi iros tra valo de densa mallumo, Mi ne timos malbonon, ĉar Vi estas kun mi; Via bastono kaj apogiĝilo trankviligos min.
Vi kovras por mi tablon antaŭ miaj malamikoj; Vi ŝmiris per oleo mian kapon, mia pokalo estas plenigita.
Nur bono kaj favoro sekvos min en la daŭro de mia tuta vivo; Kaj mi restos en la domo de la Eternulo eterne.

Language is powerful. And yet, language is arbitrary. The words we use have no inherent meaning, only the meaning that we give to them. And yet, the words we use are still powerful because of that meaning. Dr. Zamenhof knew this well. In the 1880s he invented a language now called Esperanto, which you have just heard a sample of. Dr. Zamenhof grew up in a community that spoke four different languages, each with its own cultural heritage, and he saw how the differences in language created walls between members of the community. This was why he invented a language that didn’t belong to any single country or culture. He hoped that this language, with its lack of cultural and linguistic baggage, could help bring people together by lifting up their commonalities and rejoicing in their differences.

How does language affect the way you see the world? This is what I would like you to meditate on for the next few minutes whether you sit quietly or come to the window to light a candle. Take a moment to reflect on how you react differently to the Esperanto verse and its English equivalent.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
Amen

Sermon

Like many members of our faith, I am a relatively recent convert to Unitarian Universalism. I was raised in a non-religious home, the son of freethinking parents who were the product of the cultural revolution of the 1960s. As a child I attended Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal, Methodist, Baptist, Mormon, Pagan, and Jewish services with friends and extended family, but I was always only an observer and never a believer because I couldn’t subscribe to the central ideas of these groups. I didn’t believe in magic or in a God that would condemn so many of my friends to eternal damnation despite how much good they did in the world. After high school I discovered Buddhism and I embraced its teachings because they didn’t require me to believe in a deity or in superstition. By the time I found the UU church I considered myself a staunch atheist and skeptic. When I say that I was an atheist, I mean literally an a-theist, that is one who does not believe in God. This is subtly but importantly different from one who believes there is not a God. I had no proof one way or the other, and I knew for sure that I didn’t believe in the God of the Christian fundamentalists.

When I began attending here I didn’t realize was how much negative baggage I had attached over the years to many of the words associated with the church. Words like God, divinity, ministry, faith, spirituality, salvation, and grace made me bristle, and in the UU church I found a place where I could be in ethical and moral community with others without the need to use such terms. I remember that soon after joining the church a friend of mine was explaining his Pagan religious beliefs to me. He told me that he used to be an atheist, but he had realized that there was more to life than that. He felt that there was something that connected all of us together, and he had found an expression of this belief in Paganism. I remember that at the time I thought his beliefs were silly and superstitious and I was glad that I had found a church that was more enlightened. His use of divine language, such as god, goddess, and even ritual, had built up a wall between us. If you asked me then if I believed in God, my immediate answer without hesitation would have been “no”. Not only that, I thought that discussing the idea of a god or goddess was silly superstition. What I didn’t know was that my own journey of faith was only just beginning and I was yet to learn the underlying theology and history of Unitarian Universalism.

You see, Unitarian Universalism is a faith with deep theological roots. We can trace our direct lineage to the colonial era when English dissenters journeyed to America in search of religious freedom. The church of England considered them heretics because they believed in ideas such as universal salvation – the belief that all people will be saved – and unitarianism – the idea that Jesus was not God, only a man. And even though the dissenters were a product of the enlightenment, the ideas they supported were much older, almost as old as the Christian church itself. For the majority of our history the members of our denomination have considered themselves Christians and have been at home with the language of divinity. However, for the last hundred years our vocabulary has shifted to the language of philosophy and morality. This shift began, to some degree, in the early 19th century with the transcendentalists and their focus on the inherent goodness of both people and nature. It continued in the late 19th century with the translation of the great religious texts of the world into English. But it didn’t really pick up speed until the late 1940s with the introduction of the Unitarian fellowship movement.

At the time the American Unitarian Association was trying to find ways to increase growth. They found that there were some people who were interested in Unitarianism who weren’t comfortable in a traditional church, so they began to sponsor Unitarian fellowships as alternatives to churches. Fellowships could be started with as few as 10 members and without any ordained clergy. They could also meet in people’s homes or in rented space. To increase the likelihood of their success, the American Unitarian Association targeted largely white communities which also had universities in them. Add to this the popularity of humanism among this particular demographic sparked in part by the release of the Humanist Manifesto in the 1930s and the result was a boom in small groups which were lay led, often highly educated, and largely humanist in nature. Hymnals written at the time began to include readings and hymns which lacked the traditional language of divinity. Over time these fellowships became larger and either merged with existing churches or became churches themselves. This led to a large increase in humanism in the Unitarian church as a whole as well as a steady decline in the use of religious language. So complete was the removal of religious language from the denomination that our statement of principles and purposes, often pointed to when someone asks what we believe in as Unitarian Universalists, contains no divine language at all, except for the word “covenant”.

This is why, when I joined the church, I felt so at home, so comfortable with the language used here. However, things changed as I began to apply what I was learning in church to the rest of my life. As I attempted to truly live my UU principles each day I noticed two interesting side effects. The first one was that I was less and less defensive when other people used divine language in my presence. My understanding of words such as “God”, “ministry”, and “faith” began to change and take on new meanings, thanks in part to a large number of younger UUs who were adopting this language as their own. I came to think of God as the best hopes and dreams in all of us and when others would speak about God, I realized they were speaking about the same basic ideas. This led directly to the second side effect: Other people began to comment on what a good Christian I was. The first time this happened it took me completely by surprise. For a split second I was insulted, but very quickly I recognized the comment for what it was: not a slur, but a compliment on how I lived my life. I came to realize that there was an entire group of Christians, really the silent majority, who cared more about doing good in the world and following the teachings of Jesus than about commandments, sin, and hell. I also realized that many devoutly religious people were speaking of God not as a literal man in the sky – like the one on the order of service today – but as a metaphor for that something greater that connects us all. My ability to tolerate the use of God language had changed my entire outlook not only on Christianity, but also on religion as a whole. The walls which I had built up began to be broken down.

What I came to realize is that I had been doing the same thing that the religious fundamentalists had been doing. I had been taking words such as “God” and “faith” and putting them into little boxes of meaning instead of letting their meanings expand to meet me where I was in my personal journey. I thought that “God” had to mean a physical being, and that “prayer” meant talking directly to that physical being. I thought that “faith” meant blind trust of what you’ve been taught and that “salvation” meant that you would go to heaven after you die. I’m sure that if I asked a group of UUs about these words, many of them would have similar reactions. Many of us have attached the baggage of our previous religious experiences to these words. We hear the word “sin” and we think of angry signs at a protest. We hear the word “ministry” and we think of groups giving bibles to villagers in other countries. But to many these words mean much more.

As a religious educator and a parent I have seen another side of this issue as well. Many UUs want to spare our children from the negative effects that words such as “sin” had on us when we were their age. We want to shield our children from closed minded zealots who spew hate and intolerance in the name of religion. But in doing so, we often rob our children of the power that comes from having a language to describe that which is so difficult to describe in our lives. If we taught our children that “God” refers to the great mystery of life or if we taught them that “grace” refers to those gifts that we receive simply by being alive, then they would be equipped with those words when events in their lives moved them to use language which embodied the awe and wonder of life more directly than our everyday speech does. Instead we have given that power to the fundamentalists by making sure that their definitions of these words are the only ones that our children will ever learn.

I’m not trying to influence you one way or the other about your personal belief in God. Instead, my goal is to make you think about why the word itself is so problematic for Unitarian Universalists. I think that one of the reasons is that many times when we are asked “Do you believe in God?” we are expected to give a yes-or-no answer to a very complicated question. I think another reason is that many of the popular concepts of God are so simplistic and confined that we resist forcing the indescribable spiritual intuitions of our minds and hearts into such a simple and narrow description. The real question is not “what do you believe?” but “In what do you have faith?” When all seems lost and darkness is everywhere, to what do you pray for salvation from the darkness? If you put your hopes out to the universe, then perhaps the universe is God. If you rely on the inherent goodness of all people, then perhaps that is God.

I knew that my understanding of God, and especially of the word God, had changed significantly when I was asked by a high school youth if I believed in God and I was able to honestly answer “yes”. Although I don’t believe in a personal God whom I am able to interact with, I do believe in a wonderfully complex universe and in the spark of the divine in every living thing. To me, this is God. My belief in God hasn’t really changed since I became a UU, but my participation in this church has helped me define it as something more than “I don’t believe in the God they believe in.” I still consider myself a rational skeptic who doesn’t believe in superstition, but what has changed is my relationship with the word God. Instead of shrinking away from it I embrace it as my own. And I am beginning to see the fruits of my labor.

This year my 9 year old daughter began attending Redeemer Lutheran School, a local private school that is a part of Redeemer Lutheran Church. When we first started looking at private schools for my daughter I was concerned because many of them are very conservative. We chose Redeemer because of its rigorous academic program, but it came with some possible drawbacks. Two of these are the weekly chapels and bible verse memorizations, but the more serious one is that the church which runs the school is a member of the Missouri Synod. For those of you who have never heard of them, the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod is the fundamentalist branch of Lutheranism in the US. It is balanced out by the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. Whereas the ELCA ordains gay clergy, the Missouri Synod doesn’t even ordain women. They hold to the fundamentalist stance of strict biblical inerrancy. I’m sure you can imagine why this concerned me.

When we interviewed the principal we were assured that they taught evolution and that they were tolerant of other faiths at the school. The principal told us that a Muslim girl had even been student body president a few years ago. When we spoke to my daughter’s teacher he told us that they had an atheist student the year before and enjoyed having conversations with him about religion, so we signed my daughter up and hoped for the best. All of my fears were swept away on the very first day of school. The kids all put together bags with objects in them which represented who they were. The idea was for the kids to try and guess which bag belonged to which child based solely on the things in the bag. Among the things my daughter placed in her bag was a chalice. When they made posters that told other students about their interests and hobbies, my daughter wrote “I’m a Unitarian Universalist” as the very first thing on the poster.

So far our experiences have been very positive. Even though I’ve attended every chapel service to make sure I can explain to my daughter any theological bits that I disagree with, so far I haven’t needed to. She is so completely grounded in her faith and so at home with words like God and prayer and salvation that she has instead often come to me to tell me how she disagreed with the sermon topic before I even had a chance to bring it up on my own. We often discuss how we as Unitarian Universalists can apply the teachings of Jesus to our daily lives while maintaining our own beliefs about God and the spark of the divine within all people. She even asked her prayer leader at school to pray for me when I was traveling on a business trip, not because she believes in a personal God who answers our prayers, but because she wanted to express her desire that I come home safely.

So what is the point of all of this? My sermon is titled “Is There a Place for God in Unitarian Universalism?” I believe that the answer to this question is yes, there is a place for God. There is at least a place for the word “God” regardless of what your personal beliefs are regarding the existence or non-existence of one or more particular deities. We need to bring the religious language of our predecessors back into our daily experiences and embrace that language. It isn’t the words themselves that we have a problem with, it is the meaning that others have assigned to them. If we take back these words we will regain a descriptive vocabulary which we desperately need in these trying times. My challenge to you today is to reevaluate your relationship with the language of divinity. I realize that many of you have been hurt by religious zealots using these words to spew hate, but I ask that you try your best to embrace these words and to make them meaningful in your daily lives. Doing so will rob those same zealots of the power that these words have given them.

Benediction

I will leave you today with a quote from the book, Fluent in Faith: A Unitarian Universalist Embrace of Religious Language.

“God is the voice or impulse calling us toward goodness, beauty, creativity, love, justice, growth. God is a mysterious impulse available to us, a too-often unheeded voice within me and you and all of life. This god calls and invites, prompts and lures, but it is up to us whether to respond. We are a part of an interconnected web of life in which each affects all. There is a sacred spark, a spiritual energy and power, in each of us. It matters what we do with our lives. The great, ultimately unnameable mystery of life is a call to goodness and love. As we choose love, decide for love, stand on the side of love, we are part of the growing god in the universe.”

I implore you to find ways to embrace religious language in your daily lives and to teach your families and others about your faith by using the language of divinity. Words only have meaning because we give them meaning. If we don’t give these words a deeper and broader meaning, if we aren’t comfortable using them to describe our faith, then they will always be used to rail against us and the walls between us and those of other faiths will continue to stand.

Go now in peace until we meet again. Amen.


 

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Blue Christmas

Rev. Meg Barnhouse

December 23, 2012

We will have merry holiday celebrations this year. We had a wonderful pageant last Sunday, and afterwards we had a feast. Tomorrow night we will have our traditional Lessons and Carols service with candlelight and Silent Night. This morning we are going to talk about another reality of this season: the blues. This is a hard time for some among us. Maybe you are one of those. The whole world is celebrating, and you are terrified because you can’t make the house payment, or you have had to let your insurance lapse. People are glowing in green and gold and you have lost someone close to you this year. This is the first Christmas without them. You are feeling the loss keenly.

Maybe you are alone in the world. Your family is gone, or they are toxic to you, and the world is papered in snapshots of families eating together, laughing and watching movies and going over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house. You feel like a motherless child.

You might look around you and see people who look like they have plenty of money, lots of friends, a good love life, radiant health and all their thoughts in order. You are comparing your insides to other people’s outsides, and that is a no-win situation. It’s hard to keep that in mind, though, as you feel tendrils of shame invading your spirit.

We are having a Blue Christmas service this morning to give ourselves a place to recognize this element of the holidays together. The shadow side of all the good cheer can get to us, and it can make confusion and heartbreak more keenly felt. If your marriage is in trouble, or if you or your parents or kids are going through a divorce, the “empty chair syndrome” can make everyone miserable. Everything is different this year. It’s harder, it’s easier, but it’s different. If you are in any of these hard situations, you’re probably having a hard year this year. Your feelings are reasonable and appropriate. You can’t stick the grief and confusion into a little closet for the duration of the season. It’s good to have a time when you can feel its weight and sorrow. Perhaps that will make room for some of the more joyous feelings too. It’s not all or nothing. How do we take care of ourselves and those we love when the season is a hard one?

They say “lower your expectations,” but I don’t like that. It sounds like we’re going to have something that’s not as good. I would say “lighten your expectations.” Having a house that’s decorated to the nines, saddling your family with debt so everyone can have what they think they want, cooking until you are grumpy, snapping at your family members because you are so stressed by giving them the Christmas they want — well, it’s not a “higher” realm in my book.

This is the celebration of the return of the light. Light means love and truth. Those things make room for sorrow.

Look for little things to enjoy. Before the house is decorated, before the presents are bought and wrapped and sent, it’s okay to breathe in the air of a day like today. Just breathe in and breathe out. Wear brown if you want to. Yellow. Watch people do the good cheer rituals as if you were an anthropologist studying the customs of a strange tribe. Look how they totter on ladders to put the icicle lights on their houses. Look how they run from one store to the next buying plastic things. Look how they make mountains of food to eat with people they ordinarily don’t get along with that well. Before you get too smugly above it all, though, remember that you may be doing exactly what they are doing in another year and that it will feel just right.

Instead of carols, listen to the music that speaks to your soul. Hang out with friends. Let yourself be sad that you are going through a hard time this year. Let your friends be happy. It takes a spiritual discipline sometimes, a maturity, to be glad for other people’s good lives. You can smile at them and in the spirit of truth, say “I’m so glad things are going well for you and your family.” Or you could take a sarcastic tone and say “I’m glad things are going well for you and your family,” and then they would have to take care of you for a few minutes, but that’s not quite as mature.

Notice your habits of attention. Are you making yourself worse by focusing on the contrast between your inner state and the one everyone else looks to be in? Are you like someone who has a sore tooth and keeps moving it with their tongue just to make sure it still is hurting? Gently shift your focus to something else. I’m not saying cover up your blues. I’m just reminding you they are not all there is to you.

Sometimes just acknowledging that this is a hard time of year can help. When you make room for the truth of what you are dealing with, the clamps come off of your heart and movement can occur.

More practically, or maybe I should say more biologically, if you are feeling depressed and sad you should lay off alcohol and recreational drugs. They cause depression to get worse. Exercise and eat well. Nutrasweet has been shown to lower your serotonin levels. That is a body chemical that helps with a feeling of well-being. Try to surround yourself with people who are good for you. Don’t force yourself to be around the awful people this year.

Usually your instincts will kick in and your spirit will try to make itself well again.

One friend, the year her husband died, was so mad about Christmas and all the expected good cheer that she painted the front door of her house yellow. Then she went shopping for the worst looking tree she could find. Finally she found one – a scrawny white number flocked with diseased-looking fake snow. She found some khaki colored balls to hang on it and stuck it on a table in the living room. Her intention had been to sneer at it every time she walked past, but she found herself feeling kind of sorry for it. Then affectionate toward it. They bonded, my friend and that ugly tree. It looked like she felt, and they were companions in sorrow.

If you are not the sad one, but if it is someone you love, here are some things to do. Keep in mind that this is a hard time for them. Listen with compassion if they want to talk. YOU DON”T HAVE TO FIX IT. Don’t try to cheer them up, to change their inner weather. You don’t have to be sad just because they are sad. It’s fair to be happy next to someone who is not. It’s not fair to demand that they be happy too. That’s all. Let’s be easy with one another at this time of year. Let’s be grateful that we have hearts that are big enough to feel loss, to feel complicated combinations of happy and sad, cheery and mad. A friend of mine was telling his mentor that he was getting a divorce. The old man is very hard of hearing, so my friend had to shout several times “I’m — getting – a – divorce!” Finally his mentor, a man with ninety years of living behind him, held his hands up in the air, and with a gentle smile and merry eyes, said “Life.”

Thank you for coming here this morning as we all move through life together. Merry Christmas, or —whatever.


 

Podcasts of sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

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Christmas Pageant

Rev. Meg Barnhouse and Marisol Caballero

December 16, 2012

The Christmas Story. Costumes are laid out for our children to choose what role to play in the pageant.


 

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Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

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Rekindled

Rev. Meg Barnhouse

December 9, 2012

Hanukkah is coming, one of the many celebrations of the return of the light to the northern hemisphere… Whose light could you rekindle? Who rekindles yours?


 

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Podcasts of this and other sermons are also available for free on iTunes. You can find them here.

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Sweet Honey from old failures

Rev. Meg Barnhouse

December 2, 2012

 

In our culture we have to make straight As, be partnered up with an attractive person, raise children who are accomplished and useful, have a good job, and stay healthy and strong. What use is failure?


 

Reading: Last night as I was sleeping

by Antonio Machado

Last night while I was sleeping,

I dreamt – blessed illusion! –

that a fountain flowed

within my heart.

I said, “By what hidden canal,

water, are you coming to me,

wellspring of new life

where I have not ever drunk?”

Last night while I was sleeping

I dreamt – blessed illusion! –

that I had a beehive

within my heart

and the golden bees

were going about inside it

concocting white wax and sweet honey

out of old failures.

Last night while I was sleeping

I dreamt – blessed illusion!

that a burning sun shone

inside my heart.

It was burning because it

flashed embers of a red hearth,

and it was sun because it gave light

and because it made one cry.

Sermon: Sweet Honey From Old Failures

I remember, in SC, writing a chalice circle lesson on the topic of “Failure.” One of the groups, who normally were game to try whatever topics I came up with, called me on the phone to ask if I had anything else besides that they could do, that it just seemed too depressing. They were welcome to come up with whatever else they wanted to do, I said, but that was all I had this month. They ended up using the lesson, and said it turned out pretty well. We don’t like looking at it, but when we do, it’s not usually as awful as we think. I know people who have hit rock bottom have a special way of looking at life. One of my friends won’t date anyone who hasn’t got his “bottom certificate.” Marianne Williamson is often quoted as saying “Nervous breakdowns can be highly underrated methods of spiritual transformation.”

Once you have lost everything, you can face the next thing with more courage. You have hit bottom and survived. It’s demythologized for you, no longer mysterious and full of dread. A person who has lost everything has good odds of being kinder, more compassionate afterwards. Failure can make you more supple in your approach to life, less rigid. Thinking back to survey my failures, I couldn’t find any that fit into the word, exactly. I learned how to think about failure by reading Thomas Edison : he said “I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.” Also:

I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work. It was not always that way. I used to send my writing out to publishers, and I would get a letter back that said this: ” Dear Ms. Barnhouse, We have read your pitiful attempt at a story and we have to say that, really, it would be better if you never again attempted to write. You are also ugly. It also would probably be better if you had never been born.” It really hurt. Then I would read it again and what it really said was Ôthank you for sending this. It doesn’t fit what we are trying to do at this time.”

I found some ways that don’t work for me. I failed to stay with the Presbyterian Church. Even in seminary I lost my faith regularly. “Explain it to me again,” I would ask my roommate, or my fiance. Tell me how someone else dying for me could erase my sins, and what are my sins, anyway? I’ve been doing my best my whole life, really trying to be a good person. I don’t identify with the whole “you need to be saved because you’re a miserable sinner. Yes you are. Yes. You. Are. Now, there’s good news! You’re saved by this man being killed by God so God could forgive you.” No. It didn’t make sense. It took me fifteen more years to leave. I don’t see that as a failure, though. It wasn’t a good fit for me. They loved me in spite of who I was, which is not fun.

I failed at my marriage, kind of. I mean, It lasted seventeen years, and a lot of those years were good and happy. Then I found out he had voted for Bob Dole, and that was it. I don’t want to make light of that, but I also don’t believe in preachers over-exposing themselves. The marriage doesn’t feel like a failure. We have two great sons, and that feels like success. It’s complicated, isn’t it?

I’m not sure that all of the things we label failures really are failures. Many “failures” happen when you go against what your inner voice tells you to do, or when you try to make yourself into something the others want from you, rather than what you need to do and be to live authentically. Maybe it happens when you don’t measure up to what the Perfection would be, in your place, but perfection doesn’t really exist.

Another possible translation is “old bitterness.”

the golden bees

were going about inside it

concocting white wax and sweet honey

out of old bitterness.

“Failure” is such a dualistic word. You succeeded or you failed. Life is more organic in shape than that, more complex. There is overlap between bitterness and failure, certainly. When you fail, there is bitterness at the situation, at the others involved, about your inadequacies, your lack of perfect knowledge. Failure sounds like something happened. Bitterness sounds like something you choose.

When you have a picture of how things are supposed to be, and they don’t turn out that way, there can be bitterness. In the 12 step program they call expectations “premeditated resentments.”

When you fail, there is bitterness about the circumstances, the other people involved, yourself, the things no one told you. How can the bees visit those things, draw out the essence, chew on it, distill it, carefully fan it dry and turn it into sweetness?

How can you make honey from those? I re-read “when smart people fail,” and they talked about telling the story differently, redefining failure, learning from mistakes, etc., but none of that felt like what this text was taking me. The man is sleeping. The water breaks through, water from a new life that he has never drunk before. The bees are busy, busy making white wax and sweet honey from old bitterness, old failure. He dreams that there is a sun inside warming like a hearth fire. I realized, late in the week, that these were not to be made into instructions about how I, a strong smart UU can make honey out of my own failures! The poet is sleeping. These things are happening beside his will and control.

Last night while I was sleeping,

I dreamt – blessed illusion! –

that a fountain flowed

within my heart.

I said, “By what hidden canal,

water, are you coming to me,

wellspring of new life

where I have not ever drunk?”

Last night while I was sleeping

I dreamt – blessed illusion! –

that I had a beehive

within my heart

and the golden bees

were going about inside it

concocting white wax and sweet honey

out of old failures.

Last night while I was sleeping

I dreamt – blessed illusion!

that a burning sun shone

inside my heart.

It was burning because it

flashed embers of a red hearth,

and it was sun because it gave light

and because it made one cry.

Last night while I was sleeping

I dreamt – blessed illusion!

that what I had within my heart

was God.

All of those, the spring that breaks through, the bees making honey, the sun, those are pictures of the Mystery. I try so hard to control everything, to use my will. It occurred to me that the poet is talking about things that happen in that part of yourself which has a life that is not always rational, that breaks now and then into your conscious experience. Many of you have experienced a shift in your mind or heart that feels like something new breaking in, bringing you water you haven’t drunk before. Many of you have felt warmed by a sight, some music, a relationship, a connection that flashed embers of home, that made you feel this, yes this, is the center of the universe. When you feel stale or exhausted, when you feel stuck in bitterness or ashamed of your current life, ask for the water of new life to break through, listen to the bees, busy making honey, turn your face to the sun. It is all within your heart, and it is on your side.


 

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