Question Box Sermon

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 10, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

People in the congregation write their questions down and Meg will read the questions and answer as many of them as she can.


Text of this sermon is not 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 18 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.

 

Does it hurt to bloom?

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
June 3, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

In this intergenerational service we celebrate the traditional Unitarian ceremony of flower communion. We remember its origins as a vivid resistance to Nazi oppression.


Call to Worship
“Blessing the Bread”
by Lynn Ungar

What a gathering-the purple
tongues of iris licking out
at spikes of lupine, the orange
crepe skirts of poppies, lifting
over buttercup and daisy.

Who can be grim
in the face of such abundance?
There is nothing to compare,
no need for beauty to compete.

The voluptuous rhododendron
and the plain grass
are equally filled with themselves,
equally declare the miracles
of color and form.

This is what community looks like–
this vibrant jostle, stem by stem
declaring the marvelous joining.

This is the face of communion,
the incarnation, once more
gracefully resurrected from winter.

Hold these things together
in your sight–purple, crimson,
magenta, blue. You will
be feasting on this long after
the flowers are gone.

Flower Communion

As we begin our Flower Communion I ask that as you each approach the communion vases, do so quietly — reverently — with a sense of how important it is for each of us to address our world and one another with gentleness, justice, and love.

As you bring your flower up, take a few moments to admire all the different flowers. Notice their particular shapes. Their colors. Their beauty. Are there any that particularly speak to you? As you take a moment to look at the flowers, remember that these flowers are gifts that someone else has brought to to this church community today. It represents that person’s unique humanity. If you did not bring a flower this morning, that is alright. Please still come forward and take a moment to admire all the flowers.

Please leave the flowers in the vases for the time being. Everyone will get a different flower than the one they brought to church at the end of service.

Norbert Capek started this ritual to celebrate the beauty of our faith and the people in it. Remembering that the sounds of children are a part of the quiet, let us now share quietly in this Unitarian Universalist ritual of oneness, community, and love.

Please move toward the center aisle and get in line to come to the flower altar in front of the pulpit.

Blessing

Infinite Spirit of Life, we ask thy blessing on these, thy messengers of fellowship and love. May they remind us, amid diversities of knowledge and of gifts, to be one in desire and affection, and devotion to thy holy will. May they also remind us of the value of comradeship, of doing and sharing alike. May we cherish friendship as one of thy most precious gifts. May we not let awareness of another’s talents discourage us, or sully our relationship, but may we realize that, whatever we can do, great or small, the efforts of all of us are needed to do thy work in this world.

Sermon

Flower communion is being celebrated in almost every one of the thousand UU churches in our country. It is a ceremony which was made up in a war-torn country where really bad things were going on because the country’s leaders thought that some people were good and other people were troublemakers, dirty, lazy and wrong. A Unitarian minister named Norbert Capek said “Look at the flowers. All of them are beautiful, and they are so different from one another. No one looks at a daisy and says “Why are you not a rose? If you tried harder you could be a rose.” No one looks at a lily and scolds it for not being a poppy. Flowers are beautiful, each in their own way, like we are. Whenever human beings get together, we are like a big bouquet of flowers.

Flowers have to be so brave. Their seeds fall into the ground and are buried by leaves, wind and rain. They stay there in the darkness, which is where they need to be for this first part. Then they split open, and a little shoot comes out. The shoot makes its way toward the sun. Where is the sun, it asks itself, and goes past any obstacle in order to find the light. That is a good picture of our hearts. We love the light of truth, the light of connection with each other. The light of love and purpose. Finally the shoot breaks through the ground, and it sends its stem up with two leaves. Those leaves eat air and sun and rain and they make more leaves and more, and then sometimes there is a bud. The bud is tiny and perfect. I think it might like being a bud.

But then one day its petals start to loosen. OH NO!!! What’s happening? I used to be so neat and compact, and now I’m opening up, ew, spreading out! Nooooooooo! Then — wait a minute, I’m beautiful! This is great!

Then, just when you’re enjoying your beautiful openness, when you are a blossom, and the bees are coming to visit you and you’re all warm in the sun… then your petals open even more and start falling off! OH NO!! But now you are at a great point… you are using your green energy to make seeds, and you’re ready to let them fall into the earth. Bye, little seeds, Blessings on you! See you when you sprout.

This church is in a period where part of it is blooming. I have to tell you that last Wednesday I was grumpy. TOO MUCH CHANGE. I don’t like it. It’s hard having the bathrooms under construction. It’s hard wondering if our concrete will pass the stress test. It’s hard knowing you are struggling to get here, to find parking. I want things to be easy. GRUMPY. It hurts to bloom. Yes it does.

In the words of the poet Dylan Thomas “The force that through the green fuse drives the flower drives my green age;”

We feel the force. It is the life force, that makes us grow and change. Let us welcome it, with all its surprises and alarms. Let us have faith in it, that if we welcome it and line ourselves up with it, it will take us to the place we need to be.


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 18 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.

 

Bravely ourselves

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
May 27, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

In her newest book, Brene Brown examines the supposed duality between becoming fully ourselves as individuals and finding true belonging and community. She finds it to be a false duality. She raises the question of how we find sacredness both in being a part of something and in standing alone when necessary.


Call to Worship

Exerpt from Dr Brene Brown’s book, “Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone”.

True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness.

True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are. It requires you to be who you are.

Reading

Exerpt from Dr Brene Brown’s book, “Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone”.

Theologians, writers, poets, and musicians have always used the wilderness as a metaphor, to represent everything from a vast and dangerous environment where we are forced to difficult trials to a refuge of nature and beauty where we seek space for contemplation. What all wilderness have in common are the notions of solitude, vulnerability, and emotional, spiritual, or physical quest.

Belonging fully to that you’re willing to stand alone is a wilderness — an untamed, unpredictable place of solitude and It is a place as dangerous as it is breathtaking, as sought after as it is feared. The wilderness can often feel unholy because we can’t control it, or what people think about our choice of whether to venture into that vastness or not. But turns our to be the place of true belonging, and it’s the bravest and most sacred place you will ever stand.

The special courage it takes to experience true belonging is not about braving the wilderness, it’s about becoming the wilderness. It’s about breaking down the walls, abandoning our ideological bunkers, and living our wild heart rather than our weary hurt.

Sermon

I’d like to begin today with a confession.

I am still struggling myself with what I am going to talk with you about today. I still mess up. I still get angry or hurt and make mistakes.

The last time I preached, I talked about human rights activist, Valarie Kour, and how she says that to build the Beloved Community, we must practice revolutionary love – love that is an intentional act both brutally difficult at times and ultimately beautiful and life-giving.

She says that are three aspects of revolutionary love. We must love ourselves; we must love others who do not look like us; and we must love our opponents, even those who would harm us.

It’s that last one I am struggling with this morning.

Anyone else struggle with that one? Valarie Kour confesses that she struggles with it too.

She tells the story of the first person killed in a hate crime in response to the attacks of 911, a close family friend named Balbir Singh Sohdi who like her, was a Sikh. Frank Roak, the killer, mistook him for a Muslim, because of Balbir’s turban and beard.

Roak had bragged, “I am going to go out and shoot some towel heads. We should kill their children too.”

Flash forward 15 years, she returned to site of the shooting and was joined by Balbir’s brother, Ranna. They lit a candle, mourning how little had changed.”

Kour asked, “Who have we not tried to love yet?”

And so, 15 years later, they called Frank Roak, who was still in prison.

They asked him why he agreed to take their call.

Roak replied, “I am sorry for what I did to your brother, but I am also sorry for all the people killed on 911”.

Ranna somehow found the compassion to not react to the second part of that and say, “That is the first time I have heard you say that you feel sorry.”

Roak answered, “Yes, I am sorry for what I did to your brother. One day, when I go to be judged by God, I will ask to see your brother, and I will hug him, and I will ask him for forgiveness.”

Ranna replied, “We already forgave you”.

Here is how Kour explains what she learned from that story.

VIDEO

So forgiveness, finding a way to be in conversation even with our opponents, is not releasing them from accountability. It is not giving up on struggling, fighting, resisting, rebelling against an ideology we oppose.

It is living our own values to their fullest.

It is, as Kour puts it, tending the wounds, both theirs and ours – the wounds that are so greatly and dangerously dividing us.

Dr Brene Brown, social worker, researcher, author and our second Ted Talk divinity for this morning, approaches much this same challenge in her book, “Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone”.

I can only scratch the surface of this book full of great information this morning, so I’ll start by simply highly recommending it to you.

Part of what she reveals though is how we as a society have been moving more and more into silos.

We are segregating ourselves not just by race and ethnicity anymore, but also by societal and political ideology.

We move geographically to live around people whose ideology largely matches our own.

We interact on the web and social media with people of like mind.

We attend churches or other communal institutions with folks who think and believe much like us.

Conservatives watch the “Fox Propaganda Network” and progressives watch the Rachel Maddow Ultimate Truth and Journalistic Integrity Hour”.

OK, I am joking. The truth is we all are getting a lot of editorializing.

And yet the data shows that we are lonelier than ever before. We have LESS of a sense of belonging, the more we segregate ourselves with only the likeminded.

Perhaps it is because we never have to be challenged by a different perspective. Perhaps we never have to go out into the wilderness and truly determine who we are, what we believe, what values we hold dearest, because all we have to do is go along with what the people with whom we already agree are saying.

And if we haven’t done the work of knowing who we truly are, we get triggered far too easily. We lose civility. We get on Facebook and spout simple slogans or share dehumanizing posts about our political opponents, which Brown notes diminishes our own humanity and drives us to feel even more isolated.

We avoid having the substantive and much needed conversations that might allow us to find reconnection. Hells Bells, as my grandmother used to say, we avoid even being around those with whom we disagree.

The problem is these are our fellow human beings, our fellow citizens and, far to often, our friends and family members.

The problem is, if we never have those difficult but civil conversations, we will never move forward. We will retreat more and more into our ideological bunkers until the fabric of society itself comes unraveled.

I know I sometimes avoid such conversations because they can be so very, very hard. I’m afraid I will make mistakes. I’m afraid I’ll get hurt.

That’s why it made me feel so much better to hear my Guru Brene Brown say much the same thing.

VIDEO

Good advice – especially for social media.

Another of my personal gurus, Van Jones, human rights activist, attorney, CNN commentator, and author of another recommended book, “Beyond the Messy Truth: How We Came Apart; How We Come Together” also offers much that is very, very helpful on this subject.

Today, I want to share a story he told at a recent conference I attended.

Jones tells of visiting communities in West Virginia where they were having to bring in freezer trucks on Friday nights because too many bodies of people who had died of opium overdoses were coming in over the weekend to hold them all in the local morgues.

Babies were being born already addicted and then losing both their parents.

Jones brought five leaders who had emerged from the 1980s crack epidemic in his community in Los Angeles with him West Virginia to work with five leaders there.

He says that was hard, because when drugs were ravaging his community, it was not treated as a public health issue. It was treated as a criminal issue – with brutality and imprisonment.

They began by sharing pictures of people each of them had lost. Out of that common pain, came a common purpose. They forged relations across their differences and divides.

I want to let you hear him tell about something that happened while they were there.

VIDEO

“The biggest danger we face is becoming what we are fighting”

But how do we avoid that? How do we engage with civility, even when those whom we disagree, are not always so civil toward us?

Well, there are no easy answers. It’s difficult even for these folks with far more expertise on this than me. All three say it is hard. And yet all three also say it is absolutely necessary.

Here are some thoughts.

Brene Brown says that people are hard to hate close up, so move in. Get to know them. Engage with them.

In the best book chapter title of all time, she also writes, “Speak Truth to Bullshit. Be civil”.

We can hold people accountable without using personal attacks. We can hold fast to our values without dehumanizing others.

No shaming, no name calling, no putting other people down.

We can listen and reflect back to people what they say. We can ask, “can I tell you how that makes me feel or what I understand about this?”

Valarie Kour talks about approaching other people with curiosity and wonder. She talks about the importance of sharing our stories and listening to theirs. “Stories,” she says, “can create the wonder that turns strangers into sisters and brothers.”

Van Jones speaks of searching for common ground – not mushy middle ground – but true shared interests. He talks about how he is working with conservatives such as Newt Gingrich on issues such as our criminal justice system, the addiction crisis and creating high tech and clean tech jobs.

It is difficult. Finding compassion, much less love, for those who might harm us is gut-wrenchingly hard. I know. 1’m one of the targets. Certainly none of should try to engage in a situation where we are at threat for physical harm.

I don’t have all the answers. None of us do.

I do know this. I know we have to try. I know we will never build the beloved community if we disconnect from, leave out, 30 to 40% of the population. We have to build a new way.

After the last Presidential election I found myself needing to have this kind of conversation with my mom. She gave me permission to share this story with you.

She had voted for Donald Trump.

I had posted some things on social media that were … strongly worded.

Our relationship had become strained. We avoided the topic. It is hard for love to flourish when pain has been left unspoken.

We agreed to talk. We set ground rules – each of us in turn would talk about our perspectives on the election and its aftermath – no interrupting, no arguing, no trying to convince the other of anything.

And it was difficult. And it was holy. And the ground beneath us and between us shifted, as if God had entered the room and held us both as we moved through that difficult but ultimately loving conversation. My beloveds, we can do this. It will not be easy, but we can build that new way.

We can build the be-(revolutionary)-loved community.

Amen.

Benediction

“We are bound together in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny”.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King’s words still ring true and powerful today.

And that means that even as we leave this sanctuary today, our work together to help build the beloved community goes on, as we work for justice that can transform both the lives of others and our own.

Likewise, the courage, community and compassion we experience here go with us also.

May the congregation say, “Amen”, and “blessed be”.

Go in peace. Go in love.


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 18 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.

Youth Service: Exploring Dreams

Senior Youth Group
May 20, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

This year’s Youth Service finds the youth exploring their dreams and yearnings. There will be music, meditation, inspirational stories and the Bridging Ceremony of our youth.


Welcome
Galadriel Logan

Call to Worship
Original poem by Kate Hirschfeld

Affirming our Mission Statement
Julia Heilrayne

Story for all ages
Shanti Cornell

Reading
read by Julia Heilrayne
Mary Oliver “What is beyond knowing”

Homily 1
Julia Heilrayne

Homily 2
Bridget Lewis

Homily 3
Abby Poirier

Music
“Daydream Believer” (Stewart) Will Snider

Bridging Ceremony


Text of this sermon is not 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 18 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.

 

Things I Learned From My Mother

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
May 13, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

My mother didn’t like being called cute. She wanted to be tall and elegant, but she was cute. She tried to teach me to “drive like a lady,” and she won all the belching contests when we were camping. There are things we want to keep from our mother’s lives and voices, and things that don’t help us, things we can let go of.


Text of this sermon is not 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 18 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.

 

Bringing Imperfect Gifts

Kye Flannery
May 6, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

As a highly educated and progressive denomination, we think often about what should be and what could be. But sometimes our deepest engagement with what “is” creates the best progress – and the best stories.


Call to Worship
By Erika A. Hewitt

All of us are welcome here; all of us are loved
All of us are welcome here; all of us are loved

Some of us are bringing our best selves to this space, and some of us are bringing our struggling selves, including pieces we might be ashamed of. All of us are welcome here, and all of us are loved.

Some of us already have open hearts; and some of us aren’t quite there yet, because our hearts have gotten a little beat up this week and might’ve forgotten how to trust and open. Your heart is welcome here, no matter how bruised. We welcome you among us.

All of us are imperfect, but we’re here to drop our defenses and trust that what happens in worship is powerful and life-giving. Together, we affirm that this day — and our being together — can make each of us braver, more compassionate, and wiser than when we woke up this morning. We welcome you here.

Reading
from Dakota
by Kathleen Norris

The desert monks were not moralists concerned that others behave in a proper way so much as people acutely aware of their own weaknesses who tried to see their situation clearly without the distortions of pride, ambition, or anger. They saw sin (what they called bad thoughts) as any impulse that leads us away from paying full attention to who and what we are and what we’re doing; any thought or act that interferes with our ability to love God and neighbor. Many desert stories speak of judgment as the worst obstacle for a monk. “Abba Joseph said to Abba Pastor: ‘Tell me how I can become a monk.’ The elder replied: ‘If you want to have rest here in this life and also in the next, in every conflict with another say, “Who am I?” and judge no one.'”

Sermon

First, I want to ask you to imagine a mental post-it in your mind. And on it, will you put the answer to these two questions?
What is a mistake?
What’s the worst mistake you ever made?

The last few years I’ve been attending high holidays in the Jewish faith. Learning about Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, has influenced my understanding of mistakes or sins. It’s a day where everybody reckons with their behavior over the last year, and asks each other for forgiveness. The phrase that is used at Yom Kippur is “missing the mark.”

Right now, I define mistakes as a misunderstanding or a forgetting of the bigger picture.

One of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made was not going to a funeral of a friend when I was 17. It was a person I loved who had died suddenly in a terrible accident — I was a freshman in college — I’d broken up with him… I was dating someone else — I felt unbearably, hideously guilty. I was afraid to face his family — I didn’t have the money to travel to Ireland, where he lived… I had no idea what to do. There was nobody I trusted to talk to about it. I just didn’t go.

And my guilt and my grief… I carried my guilt and my grief for ten years. Those two things, when you try to avoid them, they just clatter along at your heels, and I learned you can spend years just covering your ears, pretending all that din is normal.

I’ve been a chaplain now for about 4 years — I’ll start soon working with the Texas Organ Sharing Alliance, a nonprofit which meets with families when someone is extremely sick and could be a candidate for organ donation.

One of the best gifts of being a chaplain is that you get real comfortable with making mistakes. Going into hospital rooms, these are like people’s living rooms. And you just walk right in. No idea what you’ll find…

Once i asked a young man in his 30s in a cardiac ICU if the patient in the bed was his mother, when it was his wife. They were a lovely couple, both ministers, and I hope they’re doing well, that she’s trucking along w.o complications — You don’t make that mistake too many times.

You come at an awkward time, walk in on somebody turned over in bed with their bum being wiped. You stop hanging on to embarrassment, yours or theirs —

I’ve learned that the more comfortable I am as a chaplain with my own missteps and mistakes, the more I can give the gift of understanding to other people’s mistakes.

Making mistakes – and walking into the room knowing you’ll make them – takes courage.

  • Brene Brown talks a lot about this.
  • She and others have suggested we must “fail better next time”
  • “You will make all kinds of mistakes; but as long as you are generous and true, and also fierce, you cannot hurt the world or even seriously distress her.” -Winston Churchill
  • There’s a difference between honoring our mistakes and our growth and whitewashing — Watching all the lies of this administration after a mistake is made — when we lie about a mistake, that’s not courage. And it’s also not acceptance. I’ve met a lot of people in difficult circumstances, life and death…

I remember a woman who died at the hospital — a mistake I made there was speaking to her only in Spanish. People had told me she only spoke Spanish. That wasn’t true at all. She was bilingual. So she suffered through my tentative Spanish… Like a parent, you just suck up your mistakes and move on — chaplaincy in an intense situation can be a lot like parenting, in fact. You need to be okay, because you need to be able to ask everyone else in the room if they’re okay.

She wasn’t supposed to die that day. Her family wasn’t there, they were coming from hours away. I stood with her as she struggled for breath and sang to her and held her hand. One thing you know when you’ve been with a person as they’re dying — it’s not about saying “the right thing,” at all. It is about saying, “I care, and I’m here, I’m not leaving you.” And that’s pretty much it.

What you are left with as a chaplain is not “How can I not make a mistake here” but “Given all the things that are happening that nobody wanted, how can I just be decent to this patient and this family, treat them like I’d want my family to be treated?” It is a kind of love which amounts to Fearlessness. Applies to a lot of life I think.

So people just kept showing up for this woman who was dying — three of her exes showed up at the hospital.

In Texas, when you’re a chaplain, you know you have built trust with a family when they will acknowledge some of the more complicated truths: “My mom was a lesbian.” “She raised hell when she was younger.” “There is this crazy incident where somebody lost an earlobe.” “She had such a temper.” But also, “She’d do anything for you.”

Another patient whose family I got to know told me a great story about a family white water rafting trip.
Somebody’s planning was off, or the river itself didn’t go quite as they thought it would. This flotilla of rafts… just ran aground.
So, this man, he hopped out — turned a cooler top into an impromptu tray for drinks and said, “I’m your wader/waiter.” It was a brilliant move.

This is a story that was told at his funeral —
So much of what defines our character is what we do with something unexpected, our mistake or another person’s —

At the time when we die… what do we expect to have someone say at the funeral?
What is your wish? To live so authentically and lovingly that our Exes show up?
Maybe not ALL our exes 😉
But — is it really our deepest wish to have a funeral where people say, “Nothing to see here, mistakes were made, but not by her…”

I was a chaplain for a year to a mom who was in her early 30s. She died last year, leaving behind a small child, just two years old. A funny, loud, strong little girl. And her mother, my patient, knew it could be dangerous for her to get pregnant, but she went ahead with it, and ended up with this terminal disease.

This young woman, her heart was enormous. She was broken-hearted, but so courageous. She knew she was dying for almost a year. Her body had stopped being able to process nutrients. She was starving, slowly… She knew she was going to leave her little girl with her husband, her mother, their families. And I just remember … my dear patient, grooming her own Mom to be mother to her baby. This wasn’t the mom she’d have asked for — many of the things my patient had made of her life, her motivation, her enthusiasm, her schooling — she’d grown into these things in OPPOSITION to her mother — and yet, she knew her boat and her mother’s boat and her daughter’s boat were tied together. So she worked to teach her mother what she knew about being a good mother.

Everybody in that room was mothering each other the best way they knew how.

Many times at the hospital, you’re confronted with the question, … often accompanied by anger and fear… Am I doing enough? Are we doing enough? Is this other family member doing enough?

And what you learn in walking with families in this scenario is that… we all do our damndest to make the best decision we can in the moment with the energy and information we have.

Being with people in this way makes me think there really are no mistakes when you’re coming from love.

Alice Walker’s rewriting of the Beatitudes features this line: “HELPED are those who love the broken and the whole; none of their children, nor any of their ancestors, nor any parts of themselves, shall be hidden from them.”

I love that! If our hearts are big enough, our lenses are big enough, and we take in all parts of ourselves and each other.

One of the biggest things we fear in our imperfection is that we do not deserve respect and love.

That if we reveal ourselves as imperfect, we will not be offered Dignity – Belonging. Someone will say — YOU! Out of the pack. You’re holding us back!

Part of what I like about being UU is that we work to make space for many kinds of people in the pack.

Poet and mystic Marianne Williamson — writes about the dangers of “playing small” — we give others freedom, she says, by living out loud:

“We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

What I admire about a child is not that she gets everything right, I’m willing to forgive selfishness, thoughtlessness, wrong words…

I admire her “is-ness” — not measuring what she is against what others think, but nurturing a direct and profound and observational relationship with ls… Tao…

No movement is perfect, no people are perfect.

Pauli Murray… stubborn bus integrator… gender-queer person who did not get to be the face of the civil rights movement because she dressed in a masculine way and loved women.

Likewise, Bayard Rustin… MLK’s right-hand man… Meet the gay activist behind Martin Luther King Jrs civil rights movement “Not a problem for Dr. King, he was under such scrutiny, but it was a problem for the movement…”

Women’s suffrage movement 1880s where white leaders agreed not to pursue black folks’ right to vote — leaving black women and men disenfranchised —

No movement is perfect, no people are perfect. But part of respecting learning is not avoiding mistakes — we have to get it out there before it’s “perfect”

I think this connects to the Buddhist concept of Shunyata – emptiness, no-self. Is it a dodge for personal responsibility? “Mistakes were made, but not by me?” I don’t think so —

Shunyata is a way of dealing with mistakes as impersonal. It means we don’t have such hard edges that rub us wrong or cut us when we make a mistake.

Like when you get someone’s pronouns wrong.
Immediate feeling: (blush, terror) “This is going on your permanent record!” It can call up anxiety like at report card time — will I be judged and found wanting?
A students? B students? C students? Do we have feelings about that?

I’ve been an “A” student for most of my life — but in the last few years I’ve started to embrace my inner “C” student. C students of the world unite –!

I have a friend who says — a friend who’s intensely brilliant and also struggles with ADHD, so has had to do a lot of work on deep acceptance of imperfection — “There’s nothing I like so much as having been wrong about something.” Notice the tense. I was wrong, now I know better.

I sometimes present in a more gender-queer way (maybe not as much in Texas — it really depends), and a friend whose daughter I was babysitting asked me point-blank if I’m a girl or a boy. That was surprising, but cool. Her mom was mortified — But really it was okay with me. When we can be a safe space for people who are struggling with a question, that’s the best.

A friend of mine who is trans* feels the same way. He says, “I don’t mind kids asking questions, I like it,” he says. “I’ll ask them back, ‘well, what do you think I am?'” And kids will have the chance to think about signifiers of masculinity and femininity.”

It also brings I think new light to Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?” Because we notice too in that passage that what the answers people bring to the table tell us a lot more about culture, about assumption, than they do about who a person truly is.

When we are willing to ask or to entertain questions, we’re willing to learn something new. We open the landscape, and say, ‘this space is okay for mistakes.’

One of my favorite Christmas stories is The Littlest Angel. Do you all know this story? A lonely, forlorn small child in the very grown-up world of heaven…shiny, harmonious, sparkling and tasteful — he’s dirty and clumsy — there is a contest to give the best birthday gift to the Christ child. And the most valuable gift is the gift given by this child — a bird’s nest, a dog’s collar, a butterfly, 2 white stones…

When we start to deeply engage with nondualism – not just living in black or white – we also begin to engage with paradox – when 2 white stones and a butterfly are fitting gifts for the King of Kings.

Tao – nondualism – “The Thunder” poem from Nag Hammadi. We are no one in isolation. We only understand in community. And none of us is only one thing.

As a chaplain — having met people at many stages of their lives, and at the time of death — nobody says, “I wish I had been more polite and remembered everyone’s name,” “I wish I’d paid my rent on time,” “I wish I hadn’t offended a friend twenty years ago.” What they regret is what they did with a mistake: “I wish I hadn’t let our relationship go.” “I wish I hadn’t stayed with the wrong partner for so many years.” “I wish I hadn’t let my mother go through a painful time alone.” Because mistakes are our chance to recommit to what we believe is true and important, by doing something hard. Really, we regret not the mistake, but what we did or didn’t do with it.

Actual Regrets I’ve heard: “I wish we’d gotten to start our blueberry farm.” “I wish I could have recorded another album.” “I wish I’d had a chance to fall in love.”

If you listen deeply to these wishes, you start to realize that they’re really wishing for … the chance to make more mistakes.

And at the end of life — Big, audacious mistakes mean you will leave people laughing and in awe of you. (Hopefully nobody loses an earlobe.)

In the midst of any glorious mistake, I think we can feel free to ask ourselves: What am I practicing?

What is it you’re practicing? Right in the thick of your worst mistake, on your mental post-it… what is it you’re practicing?

Gail Sher, author of One Continous Mistake… a Buddhist approach to writing: “If writing is your practice, the only way to fail is not to write.”

That terrible mistake when I was 17 — not getting to see a friend’s family one last time, not finding a way to travel to his funeral, not finding a way at the time to claim my grief and honor his life — At the time, I couldn’t have told you what I was practicing.

Now I know:
I was practicing not seeing money as a barrier to important things —
I was practicing following my heart — really badly, it turns out — but you learn how tolisten better.
I was practicing confronting terrible feelings of guilt and walking myself through them.
And learning the dance I go through when I want to block them out…
I was practicing showing up for grief — learning the beast that grief can create under the surface if you don’t give it air, and let it breathe.

I wish I’d moved heaven and earth to be there to honor his life, and mourn his death.

But I couldn’t, and instead, that led me closer to my vocation. That was when I began to see steps toward where I wanted to be. And now, as a chaplain, I walk with others through their grief process.

Lucky enough this week to be exposed to some lines from Rilke: ” So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp/ it has an inner light, even from a distance- and changes us, even if we do not reach it/into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are…” (Thanks, Ann Edwards!)

Now my job is finding nonjudgmental space for people who fear they haven’t done their best, who have hurt others, who haven’t known what to do.

I believe this is a key commitment we make as universalists — to follow the light, not to leave each other in hell, or even purgatory, when we mistakes. Not using a mistake as an excuse to put a person, or ourselves, out of our heart. We must be kind, because we are each fighting a hard battle.

I’ll close with some words from Leonard Cohen — “Like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free –“

BENEDICTION

Like a bird on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
We have tried in our way to be free

Like a worm on a hook
Like a knight from some old-fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee
If I, if I have been unkind
I hope that you can just let it go by

If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you

Like a bird on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
We have tried in our way to be free


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 18 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.

 

Seeds

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 22, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

On this Earth Day, we talk about the life of seeds as they interact with the life of humans, about how diversity is crucial to protection against disease, and how well-meaning people sometimes create unintended consequences when solving short-term problems.


Call to Worship
– Denise Levertov

But we have only begun to love the earth.
We have only begun to imagine the fullness of life.

How could we tire of hope?
– so much is in bud.

How can desire fail?
– we have only begun to imagine justice and mercy,

only begun to envision how it might be
to live as siblings with beast and flower, not as oppressors.

Surely our river cannot already be hastening
into the sea of nonbeing?

Surely it cannot drag, in the silt,
all that is innocent?

Not yet, not yet
– there is too much broken that must be mended,

too much hurt we have done to each other
that cannot yet be forgiven

We have only begun to know
the power that is in us

if we would join our solitudes
in the communion of struggle

So much is unfolding that must complete its gesture
– so much is in bud.

Reading

EARTH TEACH ME
– from the Ute indians of North America

Earth teach me stillness
as the grasses are stilled with light.

Earth teach me suffering
as old stones suffer with memory.

Earth teach me caring
as parents who secure their young.

Earth teach me courage
as the tree which stands all alone.

Earth teach me limitation
as the ant which crawls on the ground.

Earth teach me freedom
as the eagle which soars in the sky

Earth teach me resignation
as the leaves which die in the fall.

Earth teach me regeneration
as the seed which rises in the spring.

Earth teach me to forget myself
as melted snow forgets its life.

Earth teach me to remember kindness
as dry fields weep with rain.

Sermon

Hoof and horn, hoof and horn,
all that dies shall be reborn
Corn and grain, corn and grain,
all that falls shall rise again.

The story of Johnny Appleseed is a good example of how history gets simplified and painted over with the assumptions and prejudices of whatever generation is telling the story. The Disney Johnny Appleseed shows a boy in Pennsylvania in the early 1800’s taking care of his family’s apple trees, picking big round red apples and singing “Oh, The Lord’s been good to me, and so I’ll thank the Lord for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the apple tree, the Lord’s been good to me!” Bluebirds twitter around his head, and he has a guardian angel who looks like an old white settler and talks like he’s going to say “Consarn it!” any minute. He shows Johnny a cooking pot to wear as a hat, gives him his bag of seeds and his good book, and sends him west with the other white folks who were being offered 100 acres for free if they could establish a permanent homestead. A permanent homestead was established if you planted 50 apple trees and 20 peach trees in three years. There were land-development companies who had “bought” the land (after the First Nations people were “removed”) and wanted it to be settled by European Americans.

He was born John Chapman, in the late 1700s. Moving west, his story begins on the western frontier, which was anything west of Pennsylvania. His beliefs were Swedenborgian, which was Christianity informed by the writings of the Swedish scientist and mystic Emanuel Swedenborg. They taught that a person should live gently, in love, filled with the love of God. One of the beliefs pertinent to our story this morning is that they didn’t believe in grafting trees, because they believed it hurt the trees.

An apple tree grown from seed produces what are called “spitters,” because that’s what you had to do after you took a bite of one. “Sour enough to set a squirrel’s teeth on edge and make a jay scream.” – Thoreau

Disney and I imagined that Johnny Appleseed was eccentric enough to roam the west barefoot planting trees that would produce lovely sweet apples that people could eat off the tree, but that betrays a cultural blind spot. Since he didn’t believe in grafting, all his trees were planted from seed. What were the spitter apples good for, then? The great American drink, safer than the water out there, cheaper and more fun than coffee or tea – hard cider. Apparently, frontier life was lived in a bit of a haze, with every person, man, woman and child drinking it at an average per person of about 10 oz of hard cider a day.

He would stay just west of the wagons full of settlers coming to claim their 100 acres, and plant the orchards they would need. He would clear some land and plant 50 apple trees and 20 peach trees. Then he sold the orchards to the settlers, and moved on.

This land provided the basis for the building of family wealth through generations of people from England, Scotland, Ireland, Scandinavia and Europe. What was the situation for the non- white folks? Sherman promised formerly enslaved men 40 acres and a mule. Some people got that land and some didn’t. In a few years Reconstruction was over and Jim Crow laws began. Many Black folks lost their land. Banks would only lend to white folks, so farming was possible, but difficult. Wage labor was thought of in Washington DC as the proper place for Black Americans, rather than land ownership. Land is the basis for much of the family wealth of many Americans, but not nearly as much for people of color.

American farmers here lost their land as the Texas Rangers, local law enforcement, and civilian vigilantes killed thousands of Americans of Mexican descent, or pushed them across the border. Some ended up workers on land they used to own.

What happened to the spitter apple trees John Chapman planted? When Prohibition was voted in, the FBI demanded all the cider trees be destroyed, and they chopped down a good many of them themselves.

Who owns the land? Who grows the food? How is the food grown? Those are important questions globally. The people who own the land, especially land with water, have the power. Who owns the farms now?

After WWI, people started moving to the cities to work in factories. Hoover began programs to feed the destitute Europeans. America began to see itself as the food producer for the world. Ag grew more and more industrialized. Now many big-ag farms are owned by corporations rather than families. Our seeds are modified to increase their yield. The scientists who do this have all the good will in the world to make it a better place. They want farmers all over the globe to use these high yield seeds, but the companies who own the seeds want to recoup their investment, so they patent their seeds and forbid the farmers all over the world to save seeds the way they would have done for thousands of years, in order to plant again from the crops they harvested. Partly this is because the modifications don’t hold over a couple of generations, and the plants revert to the way they were before they were modified. The world bank will loan farmers money to buy seed, but only from certain approved companies. Monsanto owns the patents on 25% of all seeds in the world. This alarms some people. The scientists are under pressure to modify the seeds in helpful ways, like making them immune to Roundup, also produced by Monsanto, so the spraying will kill the weeds but not the crops. If there is an organic farm next to an industrial farm, it is incumbent on the organic farmer to make a barrier or buffer so that the sprayed insecticides and weed killers don’t get on their crops. If they do, the crops cannot be sold as organic.

Sometimes, though, the pollen from the “roundup ready” crops mixes with weeds, and then they become resistant to roundup too. They have engineered corn that has a bacteria called Bt in the kernels themselves. This is bacteria naturally found in soil which is bad for insects. Bt corn makes insects sick. The problem is, it makes all the insects sick, and there are concerns that the Monarch butterflies have been impacted by these modified crops. They were trying to develop seeds which would become sterile in two generations, making it impossible for people to use the seeds more than once, but then concerns were raised about the pollen from these plants mixing with other crops, making everything sterile eventually, and that would be bad.

If I were to make up a religion, it would be built around seeds. They hold infinite life inside themselves. If you plant an apple seed, who is to say how many apples will result over the next 100 years? A thousand? With what awe we should regard a seed. The seeds are buried in the ground, they split open, which I am sure is alarming to them. Then a new shoot begins the struggle toward the sun. Does this not mirror the journey taken by the soul? The shoot finds the sun, builds an infrastructure by which to deliver nutrients to itself, and then grows. It blooms, which may also be alarming. I’ll talk more about that on June 3 at flower communion. After the bloom, when the beauty is quiet, the seeds develop. This is the truly productive time for the seed/soul. Then the seeds scatter and the cycle begins again.

… as above so below. As without, so within.

Hoof and horn, hoof and horn,
all that dies shall be reborn
Corn and grain, corn and grain,
all that falls shall rise again.


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 18 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.

 

Justice, Not Justifications

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
April 15, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Why do good people sometimes do really bad things, or allow such things to happen in our name? How do we try to parent this in ourselves or reengage if we need to do so?


Call to Worship

Blessed Imperfection
Chris Jimmerson

Come, though we know we will fail one another and make mistakes.

So too, will we forgive. So too, will we support and uphold one another.

Come, though we know we will sometimes be unable to reach our highest aspirations.

So too, will we reach mightily together toward those aspirations. So too, will we sometimes surprise ourselves by exceeding our wildest expectations together.

Come, as together we hold up our values and ethical principles, knowing we will make mistakes but also knowing we will return again and again to those values and principles.

Come into this beloved religious community.

Come, let us worship together.

Reading

Valarie Kour on Revolutionary Love

Revolutionary love is a well-spring of care, an awakening to the inherent dignity and beauty of others and the earth, a quieting of the ego, a way of moving through the world in relationship, asking: ‘What is your story? What is at stake? What is my part in your flourishing?’ Loving others, even our opponents, in this way has the power to sustain political, social and moral transformation. This is how love changes the world.”

Love calls us to look upon the faces of those different from us as brothers and sisters. Love calls us to weep when their bodies are outcast, broken or destroyed. Love calls us to speak even when our voice trembles, stand even when hate spins out of control, and stay even when the blood is fresh on the ground. Love makes us brave. The world needs your love: the only social, political and moral force that can dismantle injustice to remake the world around us – and within us.

To pursue a life of revolutionary love is to walk boldly into the hot winds of the world with a saint’s eyes and a warrior’s heart – and pour our body, breath, and blood into others.


Sermon

The book, “Moral Disengagement: How People Do Harm and Live with Themselves” addresses really fascinating and important subject matter in just about the most the most pedantic and tedious of ways possible.

Now in all fairness, my dog Benjamin seems to disagree and in fact found it quite tasty.

Anyway, this morning, I have tried to engage in an act of loving kindness for you all by reading some of it and closely skimming the rest so that you don’t have to do so.

I’ll try to share with you the top level overview.

Each of us develop a set of moral principles, ethical values, in life that among other things most often involves the avoidance of doing harm to others. Our ethics are handed down to us through the societies in which we live, our families, admired figures and the like, as well as through our own life experiences, cognitive analysis and emotional responses to the effects of our own behavior.

These ethics are then enforced and reinforced by legal and societal sanctions and rewards.

However, we also have moral agency. We self-monitor our behavior for consistency with our morals. Unless we are sociopathic, we feel bad when we harm someone else.

How is it then, that good people sometimes do really terrible things or allow them to be done in our name, using our tax dollars?

Well, social cognitive research has discovered a number of ways in which we as individuals, and, in fact, entire groups or societies give up our moral agency – disengage from our ethical values – allow our selves to do harm to others without losing our sense of moral integrity.

We human beings are infinitely creative, so bear with me now as I walk you through the amazing number of ways we have come up with to violate our own moral standards and not feel the least bit bad about it.

– Moral Justification: We justify conduct that is harmful to others by convincing ourselves it has a larger moral, societal or economic purpose.

Going to war in Iraq gets justified by the threat of weapons of mass destruction and terrorism (both of which, of course, at least in regards to Iraq, turned out to be untrue).

Excusing advertising cigarettes to children as upholding freedom of speech.

– Euphemistic Labelling: Using language that sanitizes the consequences of our actions or even disguises them as something else.

Children killed in a bombing raid get called, “Collateral Damage”. Terrorists assume the label of “freedom fighters”. The gun industry repackages assault weapons as “modern tactical sporting rifles”.

– Advantageous Comparison: Justifying inhumanities through either comparison to even greater moral atrocities or by conflating them with higher principles and/or revered persons who have exhibited moral courage.

Pesticide companies once justified the negative public health consequences of their products by comparing with greater numbers of people dying in automobile accidents.

One former president of the NRA gave a speech in which she compared advocating for the ability to carry assault weapons to Susan B. Anthony’s fight for women’s voting rights and Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King’s struggles for civil rights.

– Displacement of responsibility: Excusing one’s detrimental actions by claiming a lack of agency for them – that one is subject to the dictates of some greater authority – soldiers just carrying out a superior’s orders without questioning them for example.

– Similarly, Diffusion of responsibility: Diffusing individual responsibility for immoral behavior into that of a group with whom one participates in such behavior together. When the death penalty is administered by lethal injection for instance, the placement of the IV s, the strapping down of different areas of the inmate’s body, the attachment of monitoring equipment, the pushing of the plunger to deliver each of the different drugs, each of these tasks are sub-divided between different people so that no one participating has to feel individually responsible for the death.

– Misrepresentation of Injurious Consequences: Minimizing, disregarding or even disputing the harmful effects of one’s actions. Denying global warming or that it is caused by human activity, for example.

– Attribution of blame: Perceiving the victim of injurious conduct as somehow being responsible for their own mistreatment. Blaming the African American teenagers shot by police for their own deaths because of some minor offense they had committed or because they had simply not been respectful enough.

– And finally, the really big one

– Dehumanization: stripping others of human qualities, viewing them as less than human, disengages our feeling of moral responsibility to act in just ways toward them.

This is exactly what allowed for the great evil of slavery in our country. At least in part, it is what still underlies racism and all of the other isms that continue to thrive in America today.

So, these are the ways that we justify acting unjustly.

Now, whether or not we can see ourselves in the specific examples I used too illustrate them, I do think we can easily fall prey to one or more of these mechanisms of moral disengagement from our own ethical standards.

And because these mechanisms are not always operating within our consciousness, they can far too easily allow us to turn away from, to block from our awareness, systems in our societal and governmental structures that oppress and do great harm. We can too easily allow injustices to be done in our names and with our tax dollars.

So, how do we guard against these forms of moral disengagement? How do we recognize and confront systems that do great harm when we are a part of those very same systems?

This congregation is beginning to live into a new version of our mission, and within that new mission I believe lies at least part of the answers to these questions.

The new mission is really more of an extension, a logical next step to the mission we read together earlier. It goes like this: “Together, we nourish souls, transform lives and do justice to build the Beloved Community.”

Together, we nourish souls, transform lives and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

I believe that doing these things together, living our lives in this way, working to help build the Beloved Community IS how we stay morally engaged.

It is how we proactively call ourselves back to our highest ethical values and reengage when inevitably we will sometimes fall short of them. Now the term, Beloved Community, as we use it in our new mission statement and as I am using it today, has a specific meaning and context handed down to us by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is the vision he left to us, as described by the King Center for Non- Violent Social Change.

That description is on the top of page three of your order of service, and I invite you to read it with me now.

“Dr. King’s Beloved Community is a global vision, in which all people can share in the wealth of the earth. In the Beloved Community, poverty, hunger and homeless-ness will not be tolerated because international standards of human decency will not allow it. Racism and all forms of discrimination, bigotry and prejudice will be replaced by an all inclusive spirit of sisterhood and brotherhood. In the Beloved Community, international disputes will be resolved by peaceful conflict-resolution and reconciliation of adversaries, instead of military power. Love and trust will triumph over fear and hatred. Peace with justice will prevail over war and military conflict.

So the love in this meaning of Beloved Community is not an easy, shallow, Hallmark moment sort of a love.

Valarie Kour, activist, filmmaker and founding director of the Revolutionary Love Project says that we must engage in a radical kind of love, indeed a revolutionary love to build the beloved community.

Bringing feminist and womanist perspectives to the concept of Beloved Community, she says that revolutionary love “is not just a feeling but a form of sweet labor – fierce, bloody, imperfect, and life giving.”

It is love as an action – love that we engage in even knowing it will be difficult and challenging sometimes, and that we will make mistakes, and yet we must recommit to it and keep reengaging in acts of sweet labor over and over and over again. It is a revolutionary love that call us to mobilize, that calls us to action, that call us to our highest ethical values.

Valerie Kour describes three key practices for living out revolutionary love.

1. Love for others. We must see no strangers. We must adopt a fundamental vision of our interconnectedness. I must view your as a part of me that I have not yet met. We must develop curiosity when encountering difference.

This can be harder than it seems. Neuroscience has found that we may be hardwired in the more ancient parts of our brains to have an initial reaction of fear or even revulsion when we encounter someone who looks and acts differently than us.

But we do not have to let that initial reaction dictate our behavior. If we can then engage our frontal cortex by getting curious about this other person, we can change this emotional dynamic. “I wonder whom she loves? What pain has he suffered? What do they do for fun?”

Asking ourselves these and other curious questions can help us humanize the “other”. It can help us reach out and find common ground. Perhaps more importantly, it can help us begin to value difference.

We can do more together, grow more as human beings, not despite our differences but by embracing them.

Like the players in a jazz band or the individual ingredients in a Cajun gumbo, we each have a distinctiveness to add that combined together, do not melt away, but instead help create a greater whole.

And in our current social climate, this ability to love the other becomes even more important. We must willing to exercise this love on behalf of folks who have far less privilege than we do and are often in harm’s way these days.

2. Tend the wound. We must practice loving even those with whom we disagree, who would harm us. We must see the wound – see them as human and fragile. As Kour says it, “They hurt us because they do not know how else to deal with their wound.”

This is really, really hard labor, and the subject of another upcoming sermon. But isn’t just moral. It is tactical. We have more success when we go after unjust systems instead of individuals who are also caught up within those systems themselves.

3. Breathe and push. Kour says our sweet must include loving ourselves and that this is the love that we so often tend to the least. To sustain our engagement in the work of living our moral values, to love others with a revolutionary love, we must tend to ourselves.

This is not just individualistic self care. It must be the loving care we find within community. We need connection and belonging, such as that to be found within this religious community, to experience beauty and joy, to have others who will tend to us and pick up the burden for a while when we are the one who has been injured. We need beloved community for ourselves.

So these are how we practice a revolutionary love – how together we nourish souls, transform lives and do justice to build the beloved community.

Revolutionary love can move us to dismantle systems of oppression that do harm in our names and build the Beloved Community in their place. and we need it more than ever.

We need revolutionary love to transform a global economic system that benefits the very few over the great many and is endangering the very life on our planet.

We need a revolutionary love that creates a system that prioritizes people and lifeá itself over profits and wealth accumulation and by doing so builds the Beloved Community.

We need a revolutionary love that addresses the root cause of the devaluation and dehumanization that make the MeToo and TimesUp movements necessary – that still results in women receiving less pay than men for doing the very same job.

We need revolutionary love to bust up the patriarchy and build the Beloved Community in its place.

We need a revolutionary love to stand up to an executive branch that is not only systematically reversing rules and procedures that had been into place to protect the rights, of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered and queer people, but within some branches, is putting into place rules and procedures making it legal to discriminate against us.

We need revolutionary love to bring LGBTQ folks fully into the Beloved Community.

We need revolutionary love to dismantle a private for-profit prison system, including our immigration detention system, that treats black and brown bodies as commodities, often forcing them into labor for little or no pay, in effect recreating indentured servitude and slavery.

We need revolutionary love to replace that system and build the Beloved Community.

And even more my friends, we must have a revolutionary love that dismantles a culture of white supremacy and Christian hegemony that leads to the abuse of people of other faiths and continues to drive extremely harmful disparities in eduction, health care, voting rights, incarceration rates, housing, income, police brutality, arrest rates and on and on and on for people of color.

We must, we MUST engage in a revolutionary love that will not rest, will not stop, will not give up until it dismantles these systems that are draining us all of our very humanity and replaces them once and for all with the Beloved Community. Revolutionary love is where we may find the strength to remain morally engaged against these and other forms of systemic harm.

Revolutionary love is how we instead create systems that make it possible for each and every one of us to live out our full human potential, and these systems of health not harm are the foundations upon we build the Beloved Community about which which we dream.

I hold a revolutionary love for this faith and for this church and the people who bring it into being.

I have no doubt, no doubt, that we can, together, nourish souls, transform lives and do justice to build the beloved community.

Amen


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 18 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.

Broken Things

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 8, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

The Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken things are repaired using material that has been mixed with gold. This is a way of embracing damage, where a bowl or plate becomes even more beautiful because of its “scars.”


Call to worship
-Theodore Parker

I do not pretend to understand the moral universe; the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways; I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.

Reading
-Leonard Cohen

“Anthem”

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.


Text of this sermon is not 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 18 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.

 

A “Foolish” Easter

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 1, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Easter is a time of new beginnings, celebrating babies, renewing our awe at the rampant resurrection of the natural world, turning our thoughts to the life that comes out of death. “All that dies shall be reborn,” says the neo-Pagan chant. In the major arcana of the tarot, the Fool is an archetype of the beginning of the journey. What might the Fool have to teach on this, his day?


Call to worship
– e e cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing day:
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Meditation reading
– Tom Stoppard, Arcadia

“It makes me so happy. To be at the beginning again, knowing almost nothing … A door like this has cracked open five or six times since we got up on our hind legs. It’s the best possible time of being alive, when almost everything you thought you knew is wrong.”

Reading
– Ralph Waldo Emmerson

Finish each day and be done with it. You’ve done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in. Forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.


Text of this sermon is not 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 18 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.

 

Finding our balance

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
March 25, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

We are trying to do challenging and long-term soul work, and it can be overwhelming. How do we find our balance again? (Intergenerational service)


Stand on one leg and see how long you can balance. Some people can do it for a long time, but you have to practice. When I was taking karate they used to make us practice kicking 100 kicks on each side. I used to be able to do it. I could do it again if I practice long enough. You have to pick one point on a wall to look at that. It helps a lot just look at one thing. Don’t Close Your Eyes. Another thing my teacher they said was that your thoughts have to be balanced if your body is going to balance. You look at one point and you try to make your mind quiet. One of the main things that makes our mind agitated is fear. Frank Herbert, in the famous book Dune said “fear is the mind-killer.”

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

– Frank Herbert, Dune

We’re afraid so many things. I put one of my fears up in FaceBook, an unfounded and unreasonable one. Others added theirs.

Afraid of looking dumb. Afraid ceiling fans would fall. Afraid of falling through the subway grates on city sidewalks. Afraid of going blind from the little light that flashes when you go through the toll booth. Spiders, bees. Getting hurt at school. Having an accident at school.

A lot of people, kids and grownups too are afraid of making mistakes. When we make mistakes, Miss a meeting or answer a question wrong or do something that loses you a friend, we lose our balance. We worry about it as we’re going to sleep at night. We think about it when we wake up in the morning. It makes your stomach hurt.

Some of the grownups and I want to tell you about a mistake we made.

Story of the Water Protectors video.

All of us have blind spots. We have good will, and we think we’re doing the right thing, but it’s easy to forget something. Even when you have four or five people working on the same thing it’s easy to forget something. Here’s what we have decided to do when we make a mistake. We are sorry. We grieve. We feel pain. We sit with that pain. We are sorry for the pain we’ve caused other people. We try to make it right if we can. We ask for forgiveness. We ask ourselves what we can learn from this. We ask the people we’ve hurt what we should learn from this. This is not to say we won’t make more mistakes.

I had a friend I was hanging out with some years ago who used a wheelchair to get around. She was fierce about being seen correctly and being treated well. She would not hesitate to tell people who made a mistake in the way they talked to her with, encouraging them to have more respect, to honor her as a whole person her and her chair. I told her I am being quiet with fear because I’m so scared of saying something wrong to you.

She said oh you will, and I will let you know, and then we’ll keep working together.

If we are too scared to make a mistake, we are scared to move in any way that we can. We are scared to roll ahead when you’re scared to walk ahead, we’re scared to stand up, we’re scared to try new things. We learn and we try to do challenging work. We have to balance care and courage. They are not opposites.

We must develop infrastructure in our souls to survive mistakes and not go into a spiral of shame. We cannot be fragile about making mistakes. We have to find a way to be open hearted and strong-hearted at the same time. This doesn’t mean we will not care when we make a mistake, it doesn’t mean we will not care about the pain; quite the opposite. It means we will take care of ourselves and each other so that we can mend after making a mistake, and we can do what we can to mend those hurt by our mistakes. And then keep working the struggle is always going to be with us. Because we struggle it doesn’t mean we’re doing something wrong. It means we’re doing hard work together.

Trauma is tricky, though. We get too intense about our work, we don’t take deep breaths, we lose our curiosity and start lecturing, we ride roughshod over people. We use our powers unwisely for a goal that seems good to us. There is an old wisdom story that addresses this.

“It was said in the old days that every year Thor made a circle around Middle-earth, beating back the enemies of order. Thor got older every year, and the circle occupied by gods and men grew smaller. The wisdom god, Woden, went out to the king of the trolls, got him in an armlock, and demanded to know of him how order might triumph over chaos.

“Give me your left eye,” said the king of the trolls, “and I’ll tell you.”

Without hesitation, Woden gave up his left eye. “Now tell me.”

The troll said, “The secret is, Watch with both eyes!”

How do you take care of yourself? How do you keep both your eyes? You stay present to the present moment. You understand that perfect order is not a possibility, that life is hard. You rest when you’re tired, you understand that the struggle continues, and if you see someone who is sinking down, you say – Are you okay? What can I do for you?

Song: All will be well.


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 18 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.

 

Spiritual Always

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 18, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Spirituality may be even more important to us if we are facing challenges to our quality of life, or even our own mortality. How do we face difficult decisions in ways that maximize our agency, quality of life, and our ability to maintain our spirituality?


Call to Worship

We enter, now, into this place of renewal.

We join together, now, in this community that sustains and upholds.

We imagine, now, a world with more compassion, more justice, more love.

We worship, now, that which is greater than us, and that holds our aspirations, our fortitude, our faith, our hope.

Now, we enter into this shared spirit of gratitude and community.

Now, we worship, together.

Reading

CHRISTMAS AT MIDLIFE
-Mary Anne Perrone

I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days.

I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred.

I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task

I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star.

I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived.

I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now.

I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held.

I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called.

I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out.

I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough.

I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle.

I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe.


Sermon

When we first got the call, we did not realize how serious things were. Our niece, Paige, had gone in for an adjustment to her pacemaker but suffered cardiac arrest during the procedure.

Paige was more like a sister to my spouse, Wayne, and for that matter to me. Her mother, and Wayne’s oldest sister, had been a lot older than Wayne. So much so, in fact, that Paige was much closer in age to us. She was almost exactly the same age as me.

Wayne made immediate plans to fly to where Paige was in the hospital. Not knowing quite how serious things really were, we agreed that I would stay behind.

The next day, Wayne called me. He let me know that Paige had died and been revived more than once after she had gone into cardiac arrest.

Her higher cognitive functioning was gone. Her kidneys were failing. Only the machines they had attached to her were keeping her body alive.

Wayne and Paige’s younger brother and one of Wayne’s other sisters (Paige’s aunt) were there. Her younger brother was faced with making the agonizing decision of whether or not to turn off the machines.

The family talked. He told the doctors to turn the machines off – to let her go.

Wayne called me later that same day to let me know she had died.

This is a scene that plays out all too often in hospitals across the country. We have the technology to keep people physically alive long after the person, the spirit, the mind is no longer. And even when consciousness is still there, we can far too easily trade away quality of life for vague hopes of extended life that too often go unfulfilled.

In Paige’s case, she had left a real spiritual gift to herself and to those of us who loved her. Perhaps because she had developed congestive heart failure at a relatively early age, she had put into place the documents that detailed her wishes should various medical circumstances develop. She had created a will that specified how she wished her values to continue to be expressed in the world after her death.

As importantly, she had discussed these wishes with key members of her family.

So when the time came, her family, her younger brother already knew what she would want them to do. I can only imagine how much harder it might have been had they not known.

Paige left our world having known that she had empowered the people she loved to enact her wishes in circumstances where she could not express them herself. There is an agency to this that too that to me has a spiritual element to it.

I share this story partially because too often aging, death, disability are topics we avoid.

And yet who here this morning is immortal?

And I have more bad news. We are all only temporarily abled. Like all complex systems, wear and tear, illness and accidents will eventually begin to break us down.

I think Paige’s story is a great example of someone who did not avoid these inevitabilities – of preparing ahead of time so that her own agency reached beyond even her physical longevity.

In his book, “Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End”, Dr. Atul Gawande addresses how the medical model for handling aging and disability that we have adopted can take away that agency – can rob of us of the spiritual development that might otherwise be possible as we age, face fatal illness and/or disabilities.

He talks about alternatives that would prioritize quality of life over absolute safety and squeezing out a few more days of life.

Now before I go on, I want to acknowledge that there are likely people who are confronted with one or more of these challenges here today or whom have loved ones who are. Know that I know one of the reasons we avoid these topics is because they are difficult. They are emotional. Please know that I am available to you to talk further later on if need be.

My fellow Unitarian Universalist Minister, Jennifer L. Brower, outlines a number of spiritual tasks and opportunities for spiritual growth that we encounter as we age, many of which we also face if confronted with a fatal illness or the loss of one or more of our physical abilities. She defines spiritual in a way that I really love, so rather than paraphrase, I want to read you her actual words:

“If we understand the ‘spirit’ to mean the animating or vital force within each person — ‘spirit'” derived from the Latin spiritus, meaning ‘soul, courage, vigor, breath’ — then the spirit is our vital center or our core. And the ‘spiritual’ are those things which support that center; those things which enliven us and give us a sense of courage, or heart, for our living. Spiritual experiences are those events in life and moments in relationships which attune us to that vital or animating force within and which give greater meaning and depth to our day-to-day living.”

As we face aging, end of life issues, disability or some combination of these, we often need these spiritual experiences even more so. They can help us make sense of what is happening to us, find meaning and agency even within our new circumstances and maintain the relationships that sustain and comfort us.

As I mentioned earlier though, the problem, Dr. Gawande addresses in his book is that our “medicalized” model for handling disability, fatal illness and caring for the aged can and often does take away our very ability to engage our vital center, our spirit.

He tells heartbreaking stories of people in nursing homes in a room with someone they do not know and placed on a schedule that prioritizes the nursing home’s need for safety and efficiency over the residents’ agency and quality of life. Understandably, family members also often prioritize the safety of their loved ones without being aware of how extreme safety measures can so restrict quality of life.

Likewise, he tells wrenching stories of people with a fatal illness being given treatments and medical procedures with a false hope of extended life, at the cost of such treatments themselves causing misery and robbing them of quality of life. Too often, he asserts, healthcare providers find it difficult to describe the true direness of the situation and end up offering additional medical treatment instead.

Dr. Gawande points out that it does not have to be this way. He describes true assisted living facilities. One where each person has their own apartment where they can lock their door if they wish. They can establish their own priorities regarding their safety versus their agency. If they want to risk having a cocktail at night and end up falling down because of it, it is their decision. Regardless, the assistance will be there is they need it.

He describes other facilities that feature individual bedrooms and bathrooms arranged around a homelike central living and kitchen area. Again, agency is prioritized over safety. The residents make their own decisions and schedules to the extent that they are able. Pets and other life are allowed within the facilities.

Similarly, Dr. Gawande describes the hospice movement that has arisen in the U.S. and tells of how it has given people facing death the chance for a greater quality of life and has reduced their suffering. Hospice staff can also greatly help family members through the decline and loss of their loved one.

One study even found that people who went into hospice care actually survived longer on average than people in similar circumstances who were put on aggressive therapies.

My stepfather, Ty, was in my life for over 40 years. In many ways, he was more my father than my actual dad. He too developed congestive heart failure. For Ty it was in late 60s and early 70s. I am so thankful that the last trip he was able to make was to be here at this church for my ordination just over three years ago.

Ty’s condition quickly deteriorated after that though, to the point to where his heart was no longer pumping sufficiently. He had trouble breathing. His feet swelled with fluids.

He and my mom went to Houston and spoke with a specialist who talked with Ty about having an artificial heart transplant.

I am also so thankful that upon his return back to the Beaumont area where they lived, Ty spoke with his regular cardiologist, who had the courage to tell Ty about how low the chances that the transplant would be successful. He told about the many ways that the transplant procedure itself could go wrong with a person in Ty’s condition and could lead to even greater misery.

Eventually, Ty decided not to have the procedure – to live out whatever time he might have left with as much quality of life as could be made possible with palliative treatment only.

Those were difficult conversation he and my mom and the family had, but they were necessary conversations. They let Ty have agency and enjoy what he could even in his waning days.

I remember my mom calling me one time – I can tell you this because she and I have talked about it – she called me worried that she was making Ty mad by pestering him about his continued cigarette smoking. He had been a lifelong smoker and continued it even after deciding he would seek no further treatment for his heart other than hospice care.

I was like, “Mom, leave him alone. He enjoys it. What harm’s it gonna do now?”

She let it go.

I remember visiting mom and Ty near the end of his life. Ty was in his favorite reclining chair in their living room. Home hospice care had him on a pretty high dose of morphine because he was having a lot of trouble breathing and it helped keep him from suffering because of it. He could not talk much.

Still, he greeted me with that famous smile of his that could still light up the room, and after exchanging pleasantries, I sat down in the chair next to him.

We just sat for a while together, not saying much and even in our silent being together saying everything that mattered.

It was for me a spiritual experience, and I hope and think it was for Ty too.

Again, I share Paige and Ty’s stories with you because I think that they both demonstrate one of life’s important spiritual practices.

They put their wishes in writing. They had the difficult conversations with loved ones before it was late.

And this is something we all can do that will give us agency later on when we might not otherwise be able to exercise it and, as it was with Paige, can also be a great gift to those we love.

Getting our wills together that express how we would like our values to be expressed beyond our time here one earth, creating our health care directives and power of attorney documents and perhaps most importantly having these discussions with our loved ones now, so that this is already all in place when need it is actually a spiritual endeavor.

While there are absolute guarantees, having those difficult discussions with loved ones about what types medical procedures and life support we would want i under what conditions makes it much more likely our wishes will be fulfilled and that our loved ones can do so with far less anguish.

Letting our loved ones know what types of assisted living facility we would want and again under what circumstances can ease the decision making process later and give us the best chance for a higher quality of life as we reach the end stages of life. Would you prefer agency over safety? Have you purchased a long-term care policy for in home care? If so, do your loved ones know all of this?

Here are the additional spiritual challenges and growth possibilities we may go through as we age or face physical decline as outlined by Rev. Brower:

  • Bereavement – learning to cope with the loss of significant persons in our lives and those who had been with us during earlier, life-shaping events and yet remaining able to form new, close, intimate relationships.
  • Redefining our sense of purpose in life – what do we do to find meaning after we retire – after raising a family is no longer part of our purpose in life?
  • Reconciling our sense of self with a body and mind that may begin failing us in some way.
  • Reviewing our life – are there things we have left undone, unsaid, unresolved that we might like to address?
  • Resolving our questions about the nature of God, or what is ultimate or the nature of human existence, as well as resolving anxieties about death and the process of dying.
  • Our relationship to religion and our religious community. For older and disabled folks, just getting to church on Sunday, even if given a ride, can be a difficult if not almost impossible chore.

Yet the desire for religious community often remains strong. I am so glad that Rev. Ellis at this church goes to the Westminster assisted living facility and provides a worship service once per month for several of our members who reside there.

Spirituality and agency remain basic to our human needs throughout life, even as we face our own physical limitations and our own mortality.

By working to advocate for a society that treats these as human needs and not simply a medical problem, we can give ourselves and others the best chance to be able to meet those needs.

By knowing what spiritual challenges may lie ahead for us, by doing our best to prepare for them, by having the difficult but holy conversations around them with our loved ones, by making our wishes known, we may best be able to turn those challenges into lifelong spiritual growth.

Thank you, Paige. Thank you, Ty, for helping me learn this.

Amen.


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 18 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.

 

Hacking Transcendence

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 11, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Neuroscience and other research is learning more and more about what is happening in our brains and in our bodies during spiritual / transcendent / flow / peak experiences. Organizations from the Navy Seals to Google have been exploring ways to help their people reach these altered states more easily and more quickly, as such experiences can increase creativity, productivity, and team cohesion.


Call to Worship

Now let us worship together.
Now let us celebrate our highest values.

Transcendence
To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life.

Community
To connect with joy, sorrow, and service with those whose lives we touch.

Compassion
To treat ourselves and others with love.

Courage
To live lives of honesty, vulnerability, and beauty.

Transformation
To pursue the growth that changes our lives and heals our world.

Now we raise up that which we hold as ultimate and larger than ourselves.
Now we worship, together.

Readings

THE NIGHT HOUSE
– Billy Collins

Every day the body works in the fields of the world
Mending a stone wall
Or swinging a sickle through the tall grass-
The grass of civics, the grass of money-
And every night the body curls around itself
And listens for the soft bells of sleep.

But the heart is restless and rises
From the body in the middle of the night,
Leaves the trapezoidal bedroom
With its thick, pictureless walls
To sit by herself at the kitchen table
And heat some milk in a pan.

And the mind gets up too, puts on a robe
And goes downstairs, lights a cigarette,
And opens a book on engineering.
Even the conscience awakens
And roams from room to room in the dark,
Darting away from every mirror like a strange fish.

And the soul is up on the roof
In her nightdress, straddling the ridge,
Singing a song about the wildness of the sea
Until the first rip of pink appears in the sky.
Then, they all will return to the sleeping body
The way a flock of birds settles back into a tree,

Resuming their daily colloquy,
Talking to each other or themselves
Even through the heat of the long afternoons.
Which is why the body-the house of voices-
Sometimes puts down its metal tongs, its needle, or its pen
To stare into the distance,

To listen to all its names being called
Before bending again to its labor.

THE GUEST HOUSE
– Jellaludin Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Sermon

In a remote area of northeastern Afghanistan, an elite team of the already elite Navy SEALS special forces was on the move. Known as the Special Development Group, or DEVGRU, their mission was to capture Al-Wazu, an Al-Qadea terrorist who had recently escaped a U.S. detention facility. Al-Wazu could provide invaluable intelligence, so it was essential that the team capture him alive.

As they moved stealthily toward a compound of buildings where they knew Al-Wazu was hiding, a switch flipped within each of them. Their brainwave patterns began to synchronize. The composition of the neurochemicals in their brains changed in similar ways.

Suddenly, they were a collective, not individual actors. In this state of altered consciousness, this group flow state, they were able to move both quickly and quietly, communicating without verbalizations and with minimal physical gestures.

Their movements became synchronized. Their division of scanning for potential enemies, side to side, ahead and behind became automatic. The person best positioned to take leadership changed as needed without discussion or debate.

As they approached the compound, they automatically split into teams that would surround it, as well as an assault team that would enter the the compound and attempt the capture.

The first room the assault team entered was empty, but the next room was crowded with armed guards mixed in with unarmed women and children. It was vital that the assault team be able to disarm the guards with as little fire fighting and unarmed casualties as possible.

And in their state of altered consciousness, they were able to do exactly that – read even minute facial expressions or body movements; sweeping in to capture each of the guards quickly and disarm them.

Leaving a couple of their team behind to watch over the guards and civilians, the remainder of the team entered the next room, only to immediately encounter Al-Wazu himself, sitting in a chair, an AK-47 rifle in his hands.

It would have been so easy to react immediately and fire upon him. In a normal state of consciousness, anyone of the team might have quite rationally thought, “better to strike immediately than to give him time to open fire with the automatic weapon in his hands”.

But they didn’t. In theIr altered state, each of them had processed almost instantaneously that Al-Wazu’s eyes were closed. He was fast asleep.

They made the capture without firing a shot, without any bloodshed.

And they could do so because they had been selected and trained for this ability to enter into a group flow state.

Back in the U.S., an artist was installing her interactive sculpture, sound and light experiential art piece.

As she worked, she lost all sense of time. Time seemed to slow or perhaps to just lose all meaning.

Her sense of self dissolved into an experience of being part of something larger than her – something that was luring her to create the piece of art that was coming to be all around her. The act of creation felt effortless, and she felt a great sense of richness, a vividness, an aliveness.

In this flow state, she experienced a sense of right place and well being. She felt a great sense of belonging and connection, even though at the present moment she was physically completely alone.

If someone could have scanned her brainwave patterns at that very moment, they would have looked almost identical to those of that DEVGRU team during their mission in Afghanistan.

Interestingly, though she would not have used this same terminology, she had designed her art installation to stimulate virtually the same neurological responses.

In a lab in another part of the country, a neuroscientist who specialized in neurotheology was studying long-term meditators and other spiritual practitioners to examine what was happening with their brainwaves, neurochemicals, breathing, heart rates, etc. when they entered a state of altered consciousness that these practices could bring about.

These states have been described as nirvana, transcendent, an experience of the holy and in many other ways depending upon the religion involved.

Had this scientist been able to compare his neurological and biological findings from these spiritual practitioners with our artist and our Navy seals team, once again, he would have discovered remarkably similar results.

The neuroscientist as well as many others have also taken these findings and created biofeedback mechanisms that can help newer meditators, for example, reach the desired state of altered consciousness much more quickly than the years of practice it can otherwise sometimes take. By providing instantaneous feedback on heart rate, brainwave patterns, and the like, scientists have been able to help people more quickly focus their spiritual practices.

And this may be consequential, because other research has found that more frequent experiences of such altered states are associated with increased life satisfaction, a greater sense of belonging, increased compassion and empathy and higher levels of cooperative social behavior to name just a few of the potential benefits.

Maybe that is why Google has worked with Stephen Cotler and Jamie Wheal of the Flow Genome Project to install a prototype research and training center dedicated to helping Google’s employees experience such altered states of consciousness.

They call it “Flow Dojo”. Cute, huh?

Now, it turns out, experiences of art, music, nature, beauty, extreme physical activity, strong connections with others and certain types of sound and visual stimuli can also spontaneously generate these altered states of consciousness.

So, the Flow Dojo” prototype combines training in classical techniques such as meditation with biofeedback, art, music and the like, along with machines that can safely simulate the gravitational, centrifugal and other forces associated with extreme sports.

You see, while extreme sports can be be one of the most powerful ways of inducing an altered state of consciousness, a flow or transcendent or peak experience, they can also be, by their very nature, very dangerous. Take for example, wing suit gliding through mountain caverns and caves.

This is a sport wherein one straps on a suit that creates more bodily surface areas by stretching fabric between the legs and under the arms, essentially creating winglike structures that allow one to glide like a bird after launching from a high altitude, in this case swooping through the narrow, rock wall crevices of mountainous caverns and caves.

You can probably already imagine the potential problem. It is far too easy to make a navigational error that sends the extreme sports enthusiast smack into one of those rock walls.

For me, smashing into a rock wall at a high rate of speed followed by falling to my death on the rocky ground hundreds to thousands of feet below, would just ruin any peak experience I might just have had.

So the Flow Genome Project and Google provide machines that allow folks to experience the state of mind induced by this and other extreme sports but to do so safely.

Why are Google and other companies investing in how to help their employees experience these altered states of consciousness more deeply and more often?

Why are the Navy Seals and other areas of the military hacking transcendence?

Because it turns out the advantages they can convey upon individuals are also beneficial to the workplace and in combat situations.

These altered states have been shown to increase creativity in the workplace even after employees have returned to a more normal state of consciousness.

The sense of selflessness, timelessness, effortlessness and richness that occurs while in a state of flow, like I mentioned with our artist earlier, can also create a sense of cohesiveness and cooperation in the work place, increase job satisfaction, enhance productivity and deepen commitment.

Google employees have reported that after undergoing training at the Flow Dojo center, they found themselves more often slipping into a flow state at work and at home without even trying.

Now I should mention that Cotler and Wheal, in their book, “Stealing Fire” and elsewhere, describe certain types of excessive sex, drugs and extreme breath holding that can also induce an experience of transcendence.

To my knowledge, Google hasn’t been training their employees in these areas, and I should note that I am in no way recommending excessive sex, drugs, extreme breath holding or any combination thereof as a means of obtaining transcendence.

And no, I don’t know how “excessive” is defined in this context.

Researchers also warn that there are also potential dangers in all of this knowledge we are gathering about what happens in our brains and bodies when we experience a flow state.

For example, advertisers could insert in their ads visual, sound and other cues that tend to induce these brain wave patterns, to manipulate us into associating I their product with the heightened sense of wellbeing that often results.

Extreme sports and some of the drugs that can lead to experiencing flow, can also be highly addictive.

It is possible that such altered states of consciousness can themselves become addictive as people learn to more easily enter into them. Their is some early evidence of this.

The thing is, we can’t function if we live in these states of transcendent experience all of the time. The idea is that we carry out of them values and understandings that enhance our day to day functioning and state of mind. Jack Cornfield, American Buddhist, author and teacher writes about this in his book, “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry.

As a minister, I worry that these scientists, the military and Google learning more and more about how to hack transcendence are going to put me right out of my job.

In fact, I was going to call this sermon, “Google is Really Pissing Me Off,” but I wasn’t sure if I could say that in the sanctuary.

Oops. Actually I think that these things we are learning from science can help inform how we do church and can supplement and enhance our personal spiritual practices.

Maybe I’ll have one of those extreme sports contraptions installed in the back parking lot.

And though we are learning much about what is going on neurologically and biologically when we have these experience, for me at least, this in no way robs them of a spiritual dimension nor does it remove a sense of awe, wonder and mystery.

We still have much to explore about why we have this ability to enter these altered states and why it seems beneficial to us to do so. This may be yet another area where religion and science have the potential to inform rather than be in conflict with one another. After all, it is entirely possible that religious rites and rituals may well have been among the earliest ways we learned to hack transcendence.

And I do think that especially for us as Unitarian Universalist, these peak or transcendent experiences are a core element of our faith going back at least to our transcendentalist forbearers.

We list them as the first of the six sources of our faith. Here in this church, we list first among our religious values that we read together earlier – “Transcendence – To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life”.

So the rituals, music, sermons, readings, fellowship opportunities and other activities we engage in here at the church are intended at least in part to help lead us into this type of experiences.

I know for me, very often our music program moves me into an altered and wonderful state of being. Another recent example was when Meg talked about the “me too” movement and then offered a ritual folks could participate in afterwards.

It was moving and powerful and difficult and cathartic, and I suspect for many of us it forever altered our consciousness about the subject.

And I think that a key reason we seek such experiences when we have gathered as a religious community is that they can help move us toward and even into another of our religious values transformation, which we define as “To pursue the growth that changes our lives and heals our world”.

In describing transformation this way, we are basically talking about creating the Beloved Community.

Now the term, “Beloved Community” get used fairly frequently in religious circles. Today though, I am using it with specific meaning.

Part of that meaning is the community of love, compassion, empathy and care we work to create here at the church. We do so through our covenant – a set of promises we make to one another about how we will walk together in the ways of love.

And this is not a sappy, sugary-sweet view of beloved community. It acknowledges that creating such a religious community is hard work. We need our covenant precisely because we will fail each other and ourselves sometimes, and our covenant helps us get back to the ways of love and right relationship.

We do so because it is worth it. As one theologian put it, the divine is to be found in the messiness of making and maintaining loving religious community together.

Another part of the meaning of Beloved Community is our participation-in a much broader movement to create more loving and just relationships and institutions in our larger world. This is the Beloved Community which Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King envisioned.

Here is how one of King’s followers described Beloved Community, “an inclusive, interdependent space based on love, justice, compassion, responsibility, shared power and a deep and abiding respect for all people, places and things that radically transforms individuals and restructures institutions.”

So, beloved community calls us to dismantle racist systems and institutions for instance – indeed it calls us to work for justice against all forms of oppression as well as the betterment of all living creatures and our environment.

It requires transformation that changes our lives and heals our world.

“An inclusive space based upon love, justice, compassion, responsibility, shared power and a deep and abiding respect for all people, places and things… “

Wow. I think creating that might be yet another way we could hack transcendence, radically transforming ourselves and revealing our path toward restructuring our institutions to benefit all people and our world.

That is transcendence beckoning us toward transformation.

That is the power of Beloved Community.

And amen to that.


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 18 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.

 

Faith for UUs

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
March 4, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

When some people use the word faith, they are talking about faith in a personal God, or faith in the trustworthiness of another person. When someone refers to “the Unitarian Universalist faith,” what are they talking about?


Call to Worship
Alfred S. Cole

Go out into the highways and by-ways
And give the people something of your new vision.
You may possess only a small light, but uncover it and let it shine.
Use it to bring more understanding to the hearts and minds of men.
Give them not Hell, but hope and courage.
Do not push them deeper into their despair,
But preach the kindness and the everlasting love of God.

Reading
By Max Kapp

Often I have felt that I must praise my world.
For what my eyes and ears have seen these many years,
And what my heart has loved.
And often I have tried to start my lines: “Dear earth,”
I say, And then I pause.
To look once more.
Soon I am bemused. And far away in wonder.
So I never get beyond “Dear Earth.

Reading The Rock of Ages at the Taj Mahal,
Meg Barnhouse

ALL WILL BE WELL

All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.” This is one of the mantras used in the Christian meditation tradition. Don’t think it comes from a dewy-eyed Pollyanna. The woman to whom it is credited, Dame Julian of Norwich, is the same one who, when her mule got stuck on a mountain road in a rainstorm, dismounted, shook her fist at the sky, and shouted, “God! If this is how you treat your friends, it’s no wonder you don’t have many!”

Lately I have been experimenting with repeating, “All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.” I try it out in different situations. Sometimes I feel stupid affirming that all will be well. What about things that aren’t well and don’t look like they’re ever going to be well? It’s hard to see the whole picture from where I stand at this moment in my life.

There is a story of a Chinese farmer who had a fine horse show up in his pasture one day. “How marvelous!” all the neighbors said. “Maybe,” said the farmer. His son tried to ride the horse and the horse threw him, breaking the son’s leg. “How awful,” said the neighbors. “Maybe,” replied the farmer. Then the Emperor’s army came through town to draft young men for war. The farmer’s son was spared because of his broken leg.

I can’t tell, in the grand scheme of life, whether things are turning out well or not. To affirm that “all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well” is difficult for me. There are child abusers and torturers and AIDS and oil spills and a multitude of other horrors in this world.

Here is what I do know. I know that I have a choice between hope or despair when viewing the world and my future. Each choice has equal evidence in its favor. Each is affirmed and underscored by my life experience. How do I decide between them? I choose the one that brings the most joy, the most healing, the most compassion to my life and to the world. In despair I’m no good to anyone. I stop functioning well, I drag through the days, I deal with horrors that haven’t even happened yet. I don’t enjoy my children, food, sex, or any of the other dazzling pleasures of my life.

When my mother was dying of cancer, she said to me, “Meggie, everything that happens to me is good.” That was a statement of her faith. I was a cynical twenty three year old seminary student. My mother’s faith sounded naive and silly. I was in despair over her suffering, but she was not in despair, and it was her suffering. Suddenly, it seemed presumptuous to despair over her suffering when she was choosing not to.

As I experiment with this mantra and risk feeling stupid, which is a feeling I despise, I ask myself, “Which is more stupid: to despair my whole life just in case things aren’t going to end well, or to live in joy and hope my whole life, whether or not things turn out well” I’m going to keep singing this mantra to my fears. All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.

Sermon

Faith struck me at the beginning of such a Christian word. I think that is because I grew up in a Christian background. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen, the writer of the book of Hebrews says. The more I thought about that the more I didn’t understand what it meant. Faith, I always used to teach, is acting as if. Acting as if something you believe to be true is actually true. I act as if I have an inner wisdom that guides me. I act as if the truth will ultimately be revealed. I act as if the other drivers on the road are relatively sober during the day.

UU writer Jeanne Harrison Niewjaar, in her book Fluent in Faith, talks about faith has something on which you comfortably rely, a place or an attitude in which you feel at home. She tells the story of a rabbi who asked a school full of students at the synagogue whether they believed in God. No one raised their hand. When he asked have there been times when you have felt close to God? Many hands were raised. And the church I grew up in, the Apostles Creed, which we said every Sunday, started by saying I believe in God the Father Almighty, Etc. It was a list of things Christians, Protestant Christians were supposed to believe. These are not things in which I felt particularly at home, not things on which I comfortably relied. I never thought about it that way. I thought I just needed to try harder to think those things were true. Is believing different from knowing? Does faith necessarily imply something which cannot be proved? I don’t think so. I know that Carl Jung, when asked whether he believed God, answered “I don’t believe — I know.” Or is faith a choice?

Maybe Unitarian universalists can reclaim the word faith by thinking of it as something we rely on with our bodies and our spirits, something were we act as if it’s true, whether we know it for sure for sure or not. Maybe we think of it as a choice of what world we want to live in. I choose to believe that all will be well. I choose to believe that there is a spark of the Divine and every person, every animal, every rock and tree, every grain of sand, every atom. This requires me to consider that there it’s the Divine in the cancer cell. That is hard for me. I don’t know if you all know Peter Myers song Everything Is Holy Now, but I want the world I walk around in to be a world in which that is true.

On what do you rely? In what do you have faith? The goodness of other people? Until they show you otherwise? The goodness in yourself? The Ring Of Truth? The senses of your body? Most Unitarian Universalist would say that we have faith in the community. If we take that apart a little bit, it is not just in gathering next to each other that we have faith, even though Rabbi Jesus said where two or more of you are gathered there am I in the midst of you. There is something quite powerful about gathering together. Yet it is not just in gathering together, but it is in a shared and living mission that we find power, and shared effort, and shared experience, and shared word and song, enjoyment, ritual, conversation, it is in shared history. There is power in sharing our stories together. There is power in striving to refine and strengthen our spirits. There is power in nourishing one another’s souls. There is power in transforming our own lives, the lives of others, and the culture of Institutions that there is power where we make an effort together. There is power in US. One of my Bedrock articles of faith is that, in order to make the world the one that we want to be living in, we must expand our sense of who is included in that word “us.”

Look around you. This is us. But there are people who are not here today. They are also us. What about the people who used to come but now have moved away or go to other churches? Are they still us? Are UUs in other churches across the country us? What about the people who will belong to this church in the future? We are here. My faith and my experience tells me that we will still be here 10 years from now, 30 years from now, 50 years from now. Some of you have been with this church for 30 years. (maybe ask people in the congregation how long they have been coming, on and off or steadily)

The UUA has issued an invitation to think about leaving our legacy. Leaving a part of our treasure to us. To the us that will be here in fifty years. We want to see our values transmitted to the next generation. And yet my wife Kiya, the resident scholar in our house, in her master’s work for her Master’s in cultural studies, wrote that each generation hands to the next their precious treasure. The generation they hand it to smashes it to pieces, then puts it lovingly back together in that generation’s way. We may grieve that, but we may also have faith in that. I want to ask you the question — Do you have faith in us?


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 18 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.

 

Be the Spark

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
February 25, 2018
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Fire is one of the central metaphors and symbols of our faith. The fire of commitment, the warmth of community, the spark of truth, the spark of the divine inside us all. What reignites your spark when it is going out? How might we tend one another’s spark?


Call to Worship
Albert Schweitzer

Sometimes our light goes out but is blown back into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.

Reading
Clarisa Pinkola Estes

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do is intervene in a stormy world, standing up and showing your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, build signal fires.

Text of this sermon is not available. Click the play button above 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 18 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.