Spiritual Growth

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 29, 2014

Spiritual growth: this is more important for First UU than numerical growth. What might that look like for UUs? How do we know if it’s happening?


 

Text of this sermon is not yet available. Click the play button to listen.

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.

 

What does it all mean?

Rev. Marisol Caballero
June 22, 2014

A recent article in the UU World magazine by Doug Muder, entitled, “I Don’t ‘Believe in’ the Seven Principles,” brought up the difference between a belief and a vision. This assertion has the potential to change the way we as UUs respond to the often-asked question, “What do Unitarian Universalists believe?” What about some of the other terms that we use casually to talk about our faith? What might they truly mean to us?


 

Call to Worship
By Amy Bowden Freedman

Once more, the earth has turned toward the light of the sun.
As we are bathed in the light of a new day,
So may we greet the dawning of fresh possibility.

Once more, we awaken from our slumber.
As our bodies rise
To meet the challenges and pleasures of living,
So may our hearts and minds open with promise.

Once more, we gather for worship.
As we join our voices in word and song,
So may this assembly bring forth wholeness.

Come, let us worship.

Reading
“You Get Used to It” by Barbara Merritt

How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a light bulb in our congregation? Answer: none. We don’t change light bulbs. It is easy enough for us to sit in the darkness and remember the light of the past. As we honor the memory of a former brilliance, our task is to live within the confines and limitations of today.

True story. When I arrived in 1983, I was told that the lights under the sanctuary balcony didn’t work, never had worked, and couldn’t be fixed. It was not a big deal.

We have few services in the evenings, and there are plenty of lights in that sacred space that do work.

Only our new sexton, Ron Lundin, did not believe that they were forever broken. He decided to investigate. He took off the glass plate and found a thick, dark coating of dust and dirt.

He thought, “There’s no way it could just be the light bulbs, but I’ll put in a fresh one, just to see what happens.” And then the miracle occurred, “and there was light and it was good.”

Incredulous, he changed the bulbs in the other six fixtures, and light poured forth.

Apparently, the bulbs had burned out in 1939, and no one ever changed them. The dust he removed from the recesses was in place when Hitler invaded Poland and John Steinbeck published The Grapes of Wrath. We don’t know whether the seven bulbs burned out all at once or flickered off one at a time. In either case, someone decided the fixtures didn’t function, and that transmitted wisdom left us in the dark.

Many years ago I faced a similar situation at the parsonage where I lived in Illinois.

For five years, as I had washed dishes, I had stared out of a smudged, streaked, grimy kitchen window. ecause the window had been painted shut for decades, I accustomed myself to looking through the gray film. Then along came a professional painter, and not knowing the limitations of my world, he hit the window rim with a hammer. He “unstuck it” and took out the storm windows. The panes were washed and put back. The task required a total of twenty minutes.

For five years, I resigned myself to the inevitability of blurred vision. Sometimes we settle too quickly for “seeing through a glass darkly.” Sometimes the clarity and illumination we seek is close at hand. Conditions can change. Windows can open.

We just need to stop believing that we already have enough light.


 

Sermon “What Does it All Mean?”

“A lifelong unchurched man suddenly develops a vague religious urge and decides to join a church – any church. So he sets out to find one.

His first stop is a Roman Catholic church where he asks what he has to do to join.

The priest mentions diligent study and the affirmation of the Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds, then – just to see how much the man knows – asks him where Jesus was born.

“Pittsburgh,” he answers. “Get out!” cries the shocked priest.

Next stop is Southern Baptist where the seeker is told he would have to learn Bible verses, swear belief in the Nicene and Apostles’ creeds, swear off booze, and be baptized (“By immersion, not just some sissy sprinklin”). The Baptist preacher then, to see how much this man knows, asks him where Jesus was born. “Philadelphia?” he asks tentatively (once bitten, twice shy). “Get out, you heathen!” yells the preacher.

Our perplexed protagonist finally walks into a Unitarian church where he is told all he has to do is sign a membership card. “You mean I don’t have to renounce anything, swear to anything, or be dunked in anything?” “That’s right. We have no special tests for membership, no dogma. We support total individual freedom of belief.” “Then I’ll join! But tell me – where was Jesus born?” “Why, Bethlehem, of course.” The man’s face lights up. “I knew it was some place in Pennsylvania!”(http://stoney.sb.org/uujokes)

The biggest fallacy in explaining Unitarian Universalism is to say that, as UU’s, we can “believe whatever we want” because we don’t require a creedal test for membership in our churches. While we don’t have a set doctrine or a singular holy book, this is far from true. I remember a colleague telling me years ago about her time spent organizing a campus ministry program at an east coast university. The Campus Crusaders for Christ group had plastered the campus with posters about their meetings that read, “You’ve got questions? We’ve got answers.” So, the fledgling UU student group made posters, too. “You’ve got answers? We’ve got questions!” Certainty of theological belief is not the greatest gift of the religious liberal.

But, we have all found ourselves in this same position: someone who cannot pronounce the name of our church cocks their head to the side and asks with a skeptical tone, “If you don’t all believe in God or Jesus or the Bible, what do you believe in?” Well, here at First UU Church of Austin, we often lean against our mission statement as an explanation, which does say a good deal about what we come here to do, but it doesn’t talk about belief.

I remember explaining UUism to the mother of a teen patient when I was a hospital chaplain in San Francisco, years ago. From our previous conversation, I could tell she had very little experience of the world outside of the small town they had been transported from, and so, to answer her questions, I remember using a less eloquent, less concise version of what we stand for and believe, but with a similar gist of our mission statement we use here. She smiled and nodded and then informed me enthusiastically that the kind of church I am describing is called “born again” and that she had attended one before.

It’s true. I had described to her any other church that endeavors to create loving community and effect positive change in the world, as they see it.

More often, my “UU elevator speech,” or nutshell description of our faith, will include a vague summary of some of our Seven Principles, such as “we believe that everyone is worthy of respect and dignity and should be supported in their search for truth, wherever that journey takes them.”

Of course, this is much too oversimplified and I often leave those sorts of conversations with feelings of inadequacy. I imagine the frustration newbies, who didn’t grow up UU or spend a decade preparing for ministry or who don’t own shelves of books on the subject might feel in a similar situation.

In the most recent issue of the UU World magazine, Doug Muder writes an article entitled, “I Don’t ‘Believe in’ the Seven Principles,” in which he talks about this experience:

” …If you’ve ever tried to present the Principles to creed-seeking newcomers} you’ve probably seen their disappointment. “And?” their expressions seem to ask.

The Principles fail as a creed because they’re too easy. Billions of people who literally would not want to be caught dead in a UU church can nod along with them. Take the Second Principle: ‘Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations.” Does some other religion take a bold stand,for injustice in human relations? People may argue what ‘Justice” means, but everybody is for it.

The Principles are littered with feel-good terms like that: “spiritual growth,” “democratic process,” “search for truth and meaning,” “world community,” “peace, “liberty. If all Unitarian Universalism wants you to do is approve of such concepts, it’s not very demanding, is it?

So, taken as a creed, the Principles define a religion just one step up from “Believe whatever you want.” Believe a few really easy things, and beyond that, believe whatever you want.

Now, I love our Principles. Though they lack the ability to comfort me in trying times, I have returned to their poetic language time and time again to draw inspiration. I am proud to be UU every time a read them, and I adore the debate-rich process by which they were lovingly authored over the years.

I had no idea what to expect from Muder’s article, but it acted on me and my difficulty in articulating our core beliefs as the light bulb-changing sexton and the window-cleaning painter did in today’s reading. The missing puzzle piece had been right in front of me the whole time.

Margaret Fuller once said, “Cherish your best hopes as a faith, and abide by them in action.” Muder asserts that in thinking of the Principles as beliefs, we have been getting it all wrong. Instead, we should understand and explain them as visions that can guide our actions. “That’s how the Seven Principles turn into a challenging spiritual path,” he says.

To believe something is to accept it as fact and so, in his admittedly blunt tone, Muder points out that none of what is listed in the Principles actually exists. You can’t take a photo or measure the interdependent web and the inherent worth and dignity of every person is surely not always observable, even within these walls.

Now, where the light shone through was in noticing the huge distinction between “belief” and “vision.” I may not believe that the “right of conscience” already exists everywhere, but I can do my part to envision and act its reality into existence.

I have heard this critique from some whom, though belonging to other faith traditions, are familiar with our faith, “Unitarian Universalism is mainly for folks who like to name drop all of the famous people who were Unitarian or Universalist who did great things, but not really have to engage in doing great things, themselves.” Though I did quote Margaret Filler earlier, this is not a completely fair criticism, considering that, for our relative small numbers, UUs are generally loud and proud when it comes to many social issues. But, I can see how attention paid to our haughtiness over the giants of our past can distract us from a deeper engagement and exploration of such terms as “belief” and “vision.”

This may seem like a bit of nit-picky semantics, but don’t UUs live for this sort of thing? It took over twenty years of drafts and debates before the current version of our Principles and Sources were agreed upon in 1984. But, what we know to be true is that words matter. When the Girl’s School of Austin was renting the church, I noticed that one classroom had a reminder posted, “Before you speak: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it helpful?”

The truth is, as Muder says, “truths can take care of themselves.” If something simply is, no further work is required of us. “On a Sunday morning, I can believe just as well in my pajamas… as I can at a Unitarian Universalist worship service.” This is where the once dim and dingy Principles become illuminated. The UUA bylaws require us to reexamine the language of the Principles every fifteen years, yet they have remained largely unchanged for thirty years. This is because the current language of this sacred, living document already has so much to work with, if we change the way we think and talk about them. Imagine if we were known for envisioning the world we hope for into reality instead of wishy-washy “beliefs.” Imagine if “affirming and promoting” meant to us a charge for our daily lives, rather than (if we’re honest) a self-righteous manifesto that we can nod our heads to.

To change the way we think and speak of our Principles as visions, rather than beliefs, is to shift our reliance from ourselves and our heads- where we can often get stuck – into a more demanding reliance on each other’s hearts and hands, to work toward the world the Principles envision in community. Here at First UU Austin, our Values, Mission, and Ends document (available online and in hard-copy in the mailroom) together with our Covenant of Healthy Relations is practically a how-to manual for envisioning our Principles into reality. Our Covenant is as much a means of keeping ourselves accountable to each other, as it is a means of keeping others accountable to us. In this way, this faith of ours requires more commitment of us than the recitation of any creed could. We don’t have to search long to find more “there there.”

In 1979, then president of the Unitarian Universalist Association said, “The old watchwords of liberalism – freedom, reason, tolerance – worthy though they may be, are simply not catching the imagination of the contemporary world. They describe a process for approaching the religious depths, but they testify to no intimate acquaintance with the depths themselves. If we are ever to speak to a new age, we must supplement our seeking with some profound religious finds.” Personally, I think we may be onto something good.


 

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.

 

Honor Your Father

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 15, 2014

The Fifth Commandment talks about honoring our parents. What does that mean? We reflect on the things we were taught that we should hold fast, and the things we were taught that we should let go.


 

TEN COMMANDMENTS “Honor Your Father and Mother”

We’ve been studying the Ten Commandments together for six months now, and today we are looking at number five: Honor your mother and father, so your days may be long in the land.”

Everyone has parents. Some grow up with the parents they were born with, and some grow up with people who chose them to love. Some in this room had parents that fit the picture we have when we hear that word: people who stay by our side as we grow, who give us the benefit of their resources, their advice, their experience so we can become useful in the world, joyful and brave and compassionate and good at relationships. Some in this room had parents who were somewhat like that, with some rough spots. Some had nothing but rough spots.

Some parents can stay for your whole growing up process, and some leave, or are taken from you. Lots of folks are raised by other family members, who act more like parents. Some parents do a good job, some do badly. Some do real harm. Some of our parents are still living; some have gone on into the mystery.

How might we think about honoring all of our parents? The Hebrew word used in the Exodus passage is kabed. It has to do with giving weight to something, knowing it’s heavy, that it matters.

Honoring means helping someone, to bring them joy, improve their lives, to respect someone, esteem them, have concern for them, affection for them, consideration, appreciation for them, nurturing, forgiveness.

The way most of us were taught about this commandment, it sounded like “honor your mother and father” had mostly to do with obeying what they said to do, living up to who they wanted you to be, making them happy at the expense of your independence and your individuality. It set you up for either keeping this commandment or growing into your own adult with your own sense of truth and place and who you should be in the world. The Westminster Larger Catechism (the list of answers Presbyterians point to, written in the 1648) expands this this commandment enormously to include all older people, people who are “superiors in gifts,” supervisors, managers, clergy, legislators, police, etc. It seems as if you were a really good person, according to that system, you would be over obedient.

Most of us learned in college about the psychological experiment conducted in the 60’s by Stanley Milgram. A researcher in a white coat asked participants to press a button to shock a person in the booth in front of them. They would administer a mild shock, then a stronger one. The white coat would say, “again,” and look like he was turning up the strength of the shock. As the experiment proceeded, the person in the booth would act more and more distressed, then in agony. Finally he was begging for mercy. It surprised researchers how long most students would keep pressing the button, believing it was shocking this person in front of them, if the white coat said to. It was this kind of experiment, certain orders being obeyed in Nazi Germany and in Vietnam, that turned the spotlight on the dangers of teaching people to obey in this religiously connected, unquestioning way. We began to use bumper stickers that said “Question Authority” and started to raise our children to learn to negotiate and to trust their inner voice.

In our free faith, we can know that we will not be asked to do something that doesn’t make sense, something that is bad for us or others. Honoring our parents has to do with making their lives better, respecting them, allowing them to be who they are, as we would want them to allow us to be who we are. Sometimes there are specific things we can honor and some things we can’t. I think this Commandment has to do with honoring those who have raised and taught us, who have sacrificed for us and loved us. Maybe that is your biological parents, and maybe it includes other people too. Maybe there are some teachers or preachers or friends who need to be honored in that role as well. Maybe they need a note to be sent to them, or at least to be written – if they are dead or if you can’t find them for some other reason. The thanks is something that will be good for you to do, their role will be something good to acknowledge. It is good to acknowledge those who have given you gifts. Your parents are where you come from. It does a person no good to be ashamed of where they come from. Raise your head and find a way to honor it. It is part of you. You have some of each parent in you, whether in your biology or in your raising, and it would be good to know that’s there. You may have some of their good qualities and some that weren’t’ so good. Even if it’s not one of their best qualities that you have, maybe you can turn it to better use. If you got your dad’s comfort with risk-taking, maybe he was a compulsive gambler, but maybe you can use that quality to a better purpose. If you got your mom’s picky negativity, maybe you can use it to become a systems analyst who finds the flaws in a system in order to make it better for everyone.

Honoring who they are, who they were. Knowing that doesn’t mean obeying them, knowing that, in fact, the best way to honor them is to become a fully functioning, sane and joyful human individual in right relationship with a community, whether that is what they seem to want for you or not. Forgiving them, and forgiving ourselves as parents. Horrifyingly, we make mistakes as parents. Sometimes our children will talk to us about that and sometimes they won’t. My mother, as she was in the last part of her life, said “We told you ‘no’ too much….” I think that was adorable, that this was her biggest regret. She was a wonderful mom. Parenting is hard, and there has to be a lot of forgiveness about it.

“I seek your forgiveness for all the times I talked when I should have listened; got angry when I should have been patient; acted when I should have waited; feared when I should have been delighted; scolded when I should have encouraged; criticized when I should have complimented; said no when I should have said yes and said yes when I should have said no… I often tried too hard and wanted and demanded so much, and mistakenly sometimes tried to mold you into my image of what I wanted you to be rather than discovering and nourishing you as you emerged and grew.”

Honor them in who they are and honor them as they are in you. We get so afraid that we will turn into our parents. Our free faith encourages us to seek our own truth. To become an independent sane useful person IS a way of honoring your parents.

Part of this mutuality is implicit in the notion of honoring: ” ‘Honor’ is a more delicate, transitive maneuver, whereby both parties grow in dignity through the process” (Brueggemann)


 

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.

 

The Cherokee Removal

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 8, 2014

Did you know that the man who was chief of the Cherokee during the Trail of Tears was a Harvard graduate? Did you know there were missionaries living in Georgia amongst the Cherokee who vigorously protested their removal? Did you know what natural resource was at the root of the removal? This week we learn about justice and politics in the nineteenth century.


 

The early 1800’s were when Beethoven was writing music, when Napoleon was being triumphant, when the telegraph was being used for communication over distances. In the early 1800’s, the Cherokee were living in a swath of land that went from north Georgia through Tennessee and western South Carolina and western North Carolina, with hunting lands in Kentucky. 100,000 sq miles.

The Cherokee were divided about how to best survive the encroachment of white settlers. Some wanted to continue to live in a more traditional way, with the traditional form of government they’d had for hundreds of years. This group signed a treaty with the US giving up title to the lands they held in the southeast in exchange for lands they chose in Arkansas and Oklahoma. They called themselves the Old Settlers, and established a traditional life with traditional governance in the west. They are known also as the Ketoowah tribe of the Cherokee.

Most of the rest of the Cherokee in the east wanted to survive by becoming as European as possible. Their houses looked like the white settler’s houses. They wore more European style dress. Some were country folks and others were more sophisticated and progressive. Some were in business, some in farming, some lawyers, doctors and ministers. Most converted to Christianity. Their Principle chief, John Ross, who was part Scottish and part Cherokee, was a graduate of Harvard, and he drew up a constitution for the tribe and made the governance more like that of the US. It was actually more like the Iroquois Great Law of Peace, which Thomas Jefferson had modeled the US Constitution. Many families were of mixed blood, as the Irish (who were not seen by the settlers as quite “white,” even though that term didn’t really exist at the time) intermarried with the Cherokee, as did the Scots-Irish. Many Cherokee were wealthy, and some owned large plantations in Georgia. Native tribes had enslaved one another for centuries, so the idea of owning enslaved Africans was comfortable. The labor of these enslaved men and women added to the wealth of many Cherokee families, who are said to have had around 25 slaves each. A Cherokee named George Gist, also called Sequoyah, developed a way to write the language that was also fairly simple to print. Between 1809 and 1820, most Cherokee learned to read and write, and their newspaper, “The Phoenix” was established.

There had been talk of removal since the beginning of the 1800’s. The communal way in which the tribe held land didn’t match with the way the Europeans saw land ownership. Then gold was discovered in the hills of North Georgia, and outsiders moved in in droves, trampling Cherokee land, trespassing, resenting the Cherokee sovereignty over the creeks and hills where the gold was. Pressure for removal increased.

Missionaries who lived amongst the Cherokee were expected by the state of GA to be on the side of voluntary removal, or at the very least hold a neutral attitude. Some of the missionaries agreed to that, but not the Methodist missionary Samuel Worcester. He noisily protested that “establishment of the jurisdiction of the State of Georgia over the Cherokee people against their will would be an immense and irreparable injury.” The publisher of The Phoenix took up the anti-removal cause, and the case went to court. Was the Cherokee nation a sovereign nation, or was it like a ward of the State of Georgia? A case on this matter had gone to the Supreme Court two years earlier, but the court declined to hear the case, saying in that instance that the Cherokee nation was not a separate nation, so it couldn’t sue Georgia. Worcester’s lawsuit went all the way to the US Supreme Court, which ruled for Cherokee sovereignty. President Andrew Jackson said he would not enforce that ruling, so it was ignored. The debate within the Cherokee tribe was whether they should remove themselves voluntarily to Indian Territory, or should they hold out to see if there would be a reprieve. A small group of Cherokee met with US officials and signed a treaty at New Echota agreeing to exchange their land for tools, money, equipment, land, livestock and other valuables in Indian Territory. Chief Ross and his people and their lawyers objected that these folks did not have the power to sign any treaty. In fact, the Cherokee governing council had passed a law a few years earlier that said no one could sign away Cherokee land upon pain of death.

Georgia passed laws that no missionaries could live amongst the Cherokee without special permits, none of which were given. When Worcester refused to leave, he and one other missionary were sent to prison. Others in opposition to the removal were Senators Daniel Webster (a Unitarian) and Henry Clay. The signers of the New Echota Treaty left to join the other Cherokee who had settled in Indian Territory. The rest continued to fight removal in the courts, the newspapers, by sending delegations to Washington to speak with President Jackson.

In May of 1838, the terror began. Soldiers came to every village and rousted the Cherokee, rich and poor, sophisticated, educated, farmers, landowners, doctors, business people, mothers with young children, grandmothers from their homes at bayonet point. They were walked, just with the clothes on their backs, to stockades, internment camps. 16,000 Cherokee, 1500 enslaved Africans, penned up that summer. Many died of dysentery. Soldiers took about 4,000 in steamships down the drought-stricken rivers. The slaves had to work at clearing obstacles from the path of the boats. So many people deserted along the way, so many died, that the government signed a contract with Chief Ross to arrange for the transport of the rest of the tribe when the weather got cooler. With government money he hired wagons, and organized the people into cohorts, each with a doctor, some grave diggers, and a seaso was madened leader. The weather quickly grew freakishly cold, and the thousand-mile journey killed the old and the very young. The people slept on the ground or in the wagons without a warming fire, still in the clothes they’d left home in. There wasn’t enough food. People along the route would come out of their homes and stand while the people trudged by, weeping and begging the soldiers not to keep them marching this way. No one was allowed to stop during the day to bury the dead, so they had to be carried until night fall, when the sounds of shovels in the dirt and wailing would haunt people’s dreams.

Even though John Ross and his wife Quatie were on a steamship having a more comfortable trip, she died of pneumonia near Little Rock and is buried there. Our own forbear, Ralph Waldo Emerson, wrote a letter to the President when word reached MA of the removal.

“We only state the fact that a crime is projected that confounds our understandings by its magnitude, -a crime that really deprives us as well as the Cherokees of a country, for how could we call the conspiracy that should crush these poor Indians our government, or the land that was cursed by their parting and dying imprecations our country, any more? You, sir, will bring down that renowned chair in which you sit into infamy if your seal is set to this instrument of perfidy; and the name of this nation, hitherto the sweet omen of religion and liberty, will stink to the world.”

When the Cherokee got to Indian Territory, there were the Ketoowah tribe, living traditionally, matrilinealy, where the clan mothers chose the chiefs, and there were the hated group who had signed the treaty at New Echota. The leaders of that group were soon assassinated, as the penalty for what they had done was death.

About a thousand Cherokee stayed in the Southeast. They had melted into the hills, living on squirrels and acorns, or they had passed for white. A few hundred were living on the private land of a farmer in NC who had been adopted into the tribe as a boy, and if you were living on private land you didn’t have to be removed. This is now called the Eastern Band of the Cherokees, and the Cherokee in OK are called the Western Band. The divisions amongst the groups still gives rise to tensions. Appalachian culture, with its tradition of feuding, is rooted in Cherokee culture, so the feuds persist and it’s easy to step on toes. The Cherokee were not the only people who had to walk the Trail of Tears. Choctaw, Muskogee/Creek and Seminole were also stripped of their land and shoved out to Indian Territory. Then, when the European settlers wanted that land, the reservations were set up. Greed always pushes for more. We have to stand up to it, first in our own hearts, then out in the world.

Whenever I tell you stories from history, one of my purposes is to remind you that things are always as complicated in the past as they are in the present. Injustice has a similar shape wherever it moves. The laws are ignored. Differences are demonized. Horrors are minimized, dismissed. The oppressed turn on one another. infighting and self-hatred does the job of the oppressor for them. The people who do the very worst things are just following orders. Good people speak up. Sometimes we succeed in making a change. Imagine how different our US would be had we been able to envision a future including the First Nations people as neighbors and friends.


 

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.

 

Rilke’s Swan

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 1, 2014

The Fourth Commandment is to rest. What do you do to rest? What might a “sabbath” be in your life?


 

I have been tired lately. It’s been May, when we all have all of our end of school year festivities, field days, picnics, lots of weddings, papers to write, exams to take or grade. Lots of us have been tired. You know it’s bad when the doves in the tree outside sound like they’re saying “File folder. File folder.” Last week I was what I call “stretcher tired.” I wrote a piece about it. Here’s how it goes:

The Stretcher and the Swan

I came up on an accident the other day. Emergency Services people were putting a woman on a stretcher. They were tender, attentive, capable. She was being taken care of. Traffic was being directed competently around the wreck. It would be cleaned up, hauled away. Taken care of. A fire truck was pulled up beside the ambulance, its chunky lights flashing. Standing by, just in case a fire happened. So they could take care of it. That was one well-taken-car-of situation. I wanted to be on that stretcher. I wanted calm and capable people to be taking care of everything. It looked restful. I was tired. I was the kind of tired you get at the end of a month-long project. I had pushed through to the finish and I’d make seven mistakes along the way but the thing was done. I was the kind of tired you get when you have ten different people feeling in their heart that you should have done it differently. Their way. I was the kind of tired you get when your house is messy, your grass is too long, your car is cluttered and there is a dent in the door and your gas tank is empty, along with your bank account. A tiny piece of me thought it would be restful to be lying down on clean sheets, fussed over in a clean hospital room, brought jello and chicken broth and straws that bend, have people worry about me.

Usually I think it’s a good day when you don’t have to take a ride in an ambulance, and I got back to that state of mind pretty fast. Anyway, I talked to a friend of mine who used to work in an emergency room and she said what happens when you come in is that fast moving people with big scissors cut off all your clothes. That didn’t sound restful at all. She suggested I pay for a day at a spa where helpful, calm people fuss over you all day long, and you get to rest, but no one cuts off your clothes with scissors. It’s cheaper than a hospital stay, when everything is all added up, and you can drive your car home afterward.

I know now that when I have a “stretcher day,” when being helpless looks good to me, that I just need to rest. How did I get to be a grown up and not know that I need to rest sometimes? I think I used to eat instead of resting. That doesn’t work any more. Resting used to sound weak to me. I used to work sick. Well, I still do that. I used to have two speeds, a hundred miles an hour and full stop. Crash. I thought you were supposed to go and go at full speed until you couldn’t go any longer, then you sleep. Then you wake up and start again. As I get older I’m adding more gears. I have “slow” now. Some days.

The poet Rilke wrote about a swan, how awkwardly he moves on the ground, but, lowering himself into the water, allowing himself to be carried, “wave after wave,” he writes, while the swan, unmoving and marvelously calm, is pleased to be carried, each moment more fully grown, more like a king, further and further on.”

The wisdom of one of my holy books, the I Ching, talks about the wisdom of not doing. I get tired when I forget and start to act like I’m the source of my energy, my love, my creativity, like I’m the one who works things out, who sustains my friends, who gets things done. I’m learning to begin to experiment with letting go, with allowing wave after wave to hold me up and move me along. May I be granted the wisdom to know when to paddle my feet now and then.

Connecting with the deep power in which we live in the way to rest. It’s a way to let go of trying to fix things that are not our business. It’s a way to let go of trying to control things that cannot be controlled. We, like the swan, have to move into our element, stop doing the things we’re not built to do.

Finding our element, finding what we were designed to do, moving in the deep power that our forbears the Transcendentalists called “The Oversoul,” is one way to rest from the frantic and awkward efforts we make to do and be what we think is necessary. Another way to rest is, as my therapist/trainer would say: “Don’t just do something, stand there!”

This is where the fourth commandment leads, I think. This is the commandment that tells us to rest, to keep the Sabbath Day holy. We were tortured with this as children. On Sabbath, we were only allowed to go to church, read the Bible, memorize the Bible, eat or nap. When we would watch other families headed to the lake on Sunday, we’d say “They’re going to the lake!” and mama would say “Honey, they’re Catholics.” I always wanted to be Catholic. Mama would let us play sometimes on Sunday, but she kept it between the lines. Instead of playing “Battleship,” where you divide a paper into a grid of squares, within some of which your battleships lurk, we’d play “Going to Jerusalem.” We had donkeys in the grid, and your opponents were the thieves trying to set upon your donkeys as you made the treacherous climb up through the gorges to Jerusalem.

The Ten Commandments were given to a group of people who had been enslaved, and whose ancestors had been enslaved, back through 400 years of generations. It’s easy to imagine that they could have used some instructions relative to work. Rest was demanded. There were lists, eventually, about what constitutes work on the Sabbath. No planting, no gathering, no threshing, no grinding, no sorting. None of these is simple, as thousands of years of thought has gone into their meanings.

Take sorting, for example, which is defined as separating the desirable from the undesirable. Sorting or selecting is permitted when three conditions are fulfilled simultaneously. It is absolutely imperative that all three conditions be present at the time of the sorting.

1. B’yad (By hand): The selection must be done by hand and not a utensil that aids in the selection.

2. Ochel Mitoch Psolet (Good from the bad): The desired objects must be selected from the undesired, and not the reverse.

3. Miyad (Immediate use): The selection must be done immediately before the time of use and not for later use. There is no precise amount of time indicated by the concept of “immediate use” (“miyad”). The criteria used to define “immediate use” relate to the circumstances. For instance if a particular individual prepares food for a meal rather slowly, that individual may allow a more liberal amount of time in which to do so without having transgressed “borer.”

Examples of Permissible and Prohibited Types of Borer:

1. Peeling fruits: Peeling fruits is permissible with the understanding that the fruit will be eaten right away.

2. Sorting silverware: Sorting silverware is permitted when the sorter intends to eat the Shabbat meal immediately. Alternatively, if the sorter intends to set up the meal for a later point, it is prohibited.

3. Removing items from a mixture: If the desired item is being removed from the mix then this is permissible. If the non-desired item is being removed, the person removing is committing a serious transgression according to the laws of Shabbat.

So if you are making beans, you may sort the beans from the small stones that are in there

Trust human beings to take a rule which says you must rest one day out of seven, as God did when creating the earth, and make it so complicated that you need to call your lawyer before you do something on Sabbath to make sure you’re not breaking the law.

We need to rest. What’s so hard about that? It’s hard for us. “I work hard and I play hard,” our TV heroes say. We answer “how’ve you been?” With “Oh, busy. Crazy busy.” It’s true too. Crazy busy.

“Work is not always required… there is such a thing as sacred idleness, the cultivation of which is now fearfully neglected.”

– George MacDonald

A study by neuroscientists at the University of California says that there are complimentary brain networks that toggle back and forth. One is used for times in which we are paying attention, focused, trying to get things done. The other, which they call the Default Mode, is activated during times of rest, daydreaming, and other non attentive but awake times.” DM brain systems activated during rest are also important for active, internally focused psychosocial mental processing, for example, when recalling personal memories, imagining the future, and feeling social emotions with moral connotations.”

Rest Is Not Idleness: Implications of the Brain’s Default Mode for Human Development and Education

Mary Helen Immordino-Yang, Joanna A. Christodoulou, and Vanessa Singh

Educational theorists are now trying to figure out how to balance attention demanding situations with time for internal reflection, daydreaming and doing nothing.

It’s okay to rest. In fact, the neuroscientists say that activating the DM network is good for recalling our past, processing our present, planning our future. Writers know it’s good for creativity. Artists of all kinds know if they don’t spend enough “do nothing” time, the brain lies down in the road like a tired mule and no amount of shouting and jumping up and down will make it move. Rest instead. Take a Sabbath. The DM network is activated when one is not focusing on external stimuli. It doesn’t toggle over when you’re paying attention to video games, a book, TV, although all of those are restful activities. Meandering. Sitting in the back yard staring at nothing. Ruminating. These are ways we connect with the part of us that balances our sometimes frantic activity. When we are rested we think and remember, plan and process better. Imagine someone was going to pay you a thousand dollars to figure out how to create a Sabbath in your day, or in your week. See what solutions occur.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean– the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver, The House Light Beacon Press Boston, 1990.


 

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 14 years are available online through this website. You will find links to them in the right sidebar menu labeled Sermons. The Indexes link leads to tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on the topic to go to a sermon.