To nourish souls

Susan Yarbrough
May 14, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

As I say goodbye on Mother’s Day, I’ll describe how you nourished my soul, thank you for teaching me how to do it for others, and reflect how we all can be nourishers of souls, regardless of whether we are parents.


Call to Worship

Our call to worship this morning is written by American poet John Fox, an amputee whose early suffering has led him to a lifetime of developing the field of poetic medicine, which he teaches in medical schools around the world. Here are his words:

When Someone Deeply Listens to You
John Fox

When someone deeply listens to you,
it is like holding out a dented cup
you’ve had since childhood
and watching it fill up with
cold, fresh water.
When it balances on the brim,
you are understood.
When it overflows and touches your skin,
you are loved.

When someone deeply listen to you,
the room where you stay
starts a new life,
and the place where you wrote your first poem
begins to glow in your mind’s eye.
It is as if gold had been discovered!

When someone deeply listens to you,
your bare feet are on the earth,
and a beloved land that seemed distant
is now at home within you.

Reading

From an Australian woman who goes by the name Brooke and writes a blog called “Slow Your Home”.

You know that your soul has been nourished when you have a feeling of contentment and fullness because someone has handed you something that will sustain you for days.


Text of the 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 16 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.

 

Growth

Senior High School Youth Group
May 7, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

The Senior High Youth Group provide their reflections on growth and what it means to grow up.


Welcome: Julia Heilrayne

Chalice Lighting: Marah Moers, Ava Gorecki

Call to Worship: “Glory Days” (Olivia), read by Rae Milstead

Affirming our Mission; Paige Neemidge

Story of all ages: “Four little seeds” Shanti Cornell

The Kinds of People
by Kate Hirschfeld

Let’s go back. To when the days were counted not in numbers but by discoveries. Small fingers outstretched to the sky, trying to get a grasp on this world, one experience at a time. Asking questions without answers Your favorite word was always “why.” “Why” Punctuated with intensely curious eyes, Your head cocked slightly to the side, Expecting a response even when there wasn’t one to give. Minds full of fairy dust Wide eyes of wanderlust Never knowing what life had in store for us.

Back to when you had perpetually paint-stained hands, Dirt under fingernails, Hair tangled by the wind, Mud stains on your new dress.

Don’t tell mom but you always liked it better like that anyway. Said it reminded you of chocolate milk. And everyone knows, there’s nothing on this earth better than chocolate milk.

Back to when we gazed at the stars so long our eyes themselves began to twinkle. We took to staring contests during the day to share our galaxies. We woke up early to watch the sun paint the sky like a canvas. Pink stained clouds never ceased to take our breath away.

Call us crazy, but thought it beat Cartoon Network any day. We stayed up past our bedtimes to wave the moon goodnight. We searched the sky for the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt. They were the only constellations we knew, But the way our eyes lit up when we saw them, Made them the only ones we needed.

Back to when wonder was our only motive. We dived in head first not because we had courage, But because we didn’t know to be scared yet.

Back to when we rolled the windows down just to taste the wind without fear of ruining our hair. And daydreaming was a common pastime not a waste of it. When we were more than just people, We were heroes and pirates and wizards and royalty. We soared through stormclouds and danced with dandelions. Our heartbeat was the only music we ever needed. And every raindrop was proof that magic really did exist. Bedtime stories didn’t seem so far off.

What happened between then and now? How did magic become merely a device for Disney to make a profit. And four-leaf clovers became so rare we stopped even bothering to look. We stay up late but keep the curtains closed from the cosmos. They say money can’t buy happiness but it’s starting to replace it. We shy away from opportunity because we finally learned what fear was. Our dresses remain clean and we don’t drink chocolate milk We close our fists and turn our eyes from the skies. We don’t have time for staring contests so our galaxies flicker and dim. Your favorite word became “Because.”

Except, for a few. Some people never stopped daydreaming They still wish on dandelions though some may call them childish. And wander forests in their free time because their curiosity surpasses their fears. They love for the sake of loving, their joy does not need justification. Most of all, they still ask questions.

Change is the Only Constant
by Julia Heilrayne

Change is all around us, all the time. It is what we live and breathe. As a science nerd, I love the saying “change is the only constant” because well, that’s the truth. Change is scary. I’ll admit that, but without it, progress and growth would be impossible. Change and growth are the driving forces in life — pushing us forward to the next discovery, the crucial part of history, the next step in our own lives. Without change, people would never grow, plants would never blossom, and none of us would be where we are today.

In my 15 years, change has been one of the best and worst things to happen to me. It has saved my life, and made it infinitely harder. Change has let me breathe again, while at the same time, it has taken my breath away and refused to give it back. But most of all, I have learned to love and appreciate the constant state of change in the world because without it, I have no idea where or who I would be today.

When I was in sixth grade, change took over my life. Just after the second semester had started, my parents told me I was switching schools. This news was wel- comed with tears, excitement, and relief but most of all, fear. I had been having problems at school for a little while, fighting back against a system that no longer worked for me, and fighting back against a teacher who no longer taught me. Even though I was glad to get away from that school and get another go at this whole learn- ing thing, I had never known any different than my little tiny private school and that scared me more than I can explain. So in February of sixth grade, I was abruptly pulled from the school that I had at- tended for eight and a half years, ripping me apart from my friends and much of my identity at the time.

To me, switching schools mid-year felt like being thrown into the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of a storm. I was alone, scared, and more vulnerable than I have ever been. As I was tossed around in the stormy waters of public school, otherwise known as STAAR tests and cafeterias, I struggled to swim, or even keep my head above the water. For those of you who don’t know me, I like to win. I like to be the best at everything I do. So as I watched the other kids, most of whom had been in public school for their entire lives, navigate this world with ease, I felt like a failure. I saw the other students around me, excelling at school and at sports, swimming through life gracefully, as I struggled to find my next class.

Eventually though, I memorized my schedule and I stopped getting lost on my way to classes. I found my group of friends, and I stopped feeling lonely all the time. But best of all, my mind moved on from my old school. Although I will never forget the experi- ences I had there, both good and bad, I don’t think about it as often as I used to. In sixth grade, I realized that my new school, friends, and teachers, had been my saving grace and exactly what I needed. It wasn’t until seventh grade when I accepted the change that had turned my life upside down and shaken it around a few times, and at that point, I started to really love what had become of all the shaking.

My new school gave me confidence I never knew I had. My friends taught me how to laugh like I hadn’t laughed in a long time. And my teachers taught me how to breathe, and how to live again.

If you ask anyone who knew me when I was a student at my old school and who knows me now, they will undoubtedly agree when I say that I am a completely different person. Although switching schools was one of the most painful things I’ve ever been through, if I was in the same situation now, I wouldn’t do anything differently. Public school gave me my life back, and led me to my best friends, my mentors and my teachers. My experiences forced me to fall back to the amazing support system I have in the UU world. My closest friends, some of who sit behind me and some of who live 4 or 5 hours away, exist in my life only because of this church and my other UU communities.

Today, I am a freshman at Austin High School. Today I am part of the Academy for Global Studies, and today I am one of the top students in the Biomedical Science program. Today I am 100% positive that I want to go into the medical field and today, I am 100% positive that I want to work with chil- dren as part of my job. But I would not be any or know any of this today, had it not been for the immense change that swept through my life yesterday.

Change has been and will continue to be the only constant in my life, and in yours. It is the force that keeps us going, and refuses to forget anyone. Change is the reason we grow, adapt, and adjust to our world in the best pos- sible way. Drastic, painful change is the reason that most of my closest friends are my closest friends. Change has forced me to grow into the person I am today, and I could not be happier.

Although it can be scary, change is necessary. It causes growth, and allows us to live. So I ask you, embrace change, and learn to love it for all it has to offer.

Growing Up a Human is a Lot Like a Tomato Plant I Once Had
by Everly Rae Milstead

A few years ago, my family decided to have our very own garden in our backyard. We grew things like squash and tomatoes and peppers. We would harvest them and I would proudly bring my harvested tomatoes to school and give them to my teachers. I would go on long speeches about how much we had to do to get this one handful of toma- toes. It was my own take on trying to be the teacher’s pet. Now we fast forward a few years and our little home garden is pretty much a heap of dirt that has grass growing on it. I plan to eventually get myself out there again and get my garden back up and running, keyword being eventually. Now the real reason for why I am telling you a story about a little home garden, besides that it goes so comedically well with the theme of this service, is that I hadn’t realized how much my life related to this tiny garden. Just like this garden falling apart, my life fell apart. Along with dealing with the normal hormonal roller coaster that is teenage-hood, I also had my family life completely turned over in front of me. There were so many nights that I cried myself to sleep wondering what I had done or what my family members had done to deserve any of what was going on. I watched a sibling who was the strongest person I knew fall defeated to none other than themselves. I watched my mom have to handle things that no mother deserves to go through. I watched my happy, sunflowery self become wilted and sad. My seventeen-year-old self was an abandoned garden.

But the thing is, throughout the years this garden was left unattended, a toma- to plant was able to persevere through it. This tomato plant made it through the Austin droughts and the floods and the freezes and heat waves that sometimes happened in the same week, because we live in Austin and that’s what Austin does. This little tomato plant once pro- duced juicy tomatoes during the early summers and now it produces a meta- phor for my life. Like this tomato plant, I dealt with my own winter freeze. My winter freeze took shape as depression and feeling lonely and cold. This tomato and I went through our roots, what kept us stable, getting frozen and our happy bright leaves falling off. Like this tomato plant, I went through a drought. My drought was the feeling like I just may not make it to the finish line or the next cycle of seasons. The little tomato plant wasn’t able to see whether or not it would make it just like I did. Life is rough, but like this little tomato plant, I have shown the grit to get through it no matter the circumstance.

I feel as if everyone is a plant in their own way. My mother has been a giant tree with roots that go so deep into the Earth that I know I am safe to lean on her. My siblings and I grew apart as we grew up, just as plants need space in order to live. We all made it, just as that tomato plant did.

While my life is still going on, I have realized that I don’t have to grow on my own. Just like plants have bees, ladybugs, and spiders, and many other critters to help them grow, I have friends, mentors, and this church to help me on my pathway of life. I have skills like making sure I get myself in a safe place before my life enters a hard freeze, just like we put hooped covers over plants to protect them from the cold. Life is going to keep going, whether I like it or not, and plants are still going to need to be tended to, just as my life will need assistance at times. As I plant more tomato plants, I will always think of that tiny tomato plant that seemingly made it through everything I could imagine. I will think of it the next time my life hits another drought or flood.

Change: Never Wanted, Always Needed
by Abby Poirer

Life is all about change-it’s commonplace and a vital part of the way we live. Change is scary, many people dislike it, but the thing is, if none of us ever changed, if none of us ever grew, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I wouldn’t be where I am today. You wouldn’t be where you are today.

Without change, without growth, I would be stuck. Stuck in a mind- set that rendered me incapable of learning. Stuck between a rock and a hard place simply because I refused to find another way. I don’t want to be stuck — I want to do things, discover things, change things. Even though it’s scary.

When I was between the ages of 11 and 14 I stared down the barrel of many a change. In the fifth grade my parents told me they were going to take me out of public school and enroll me in online school with some others for my sixth grade year. Part of me was excited, part of me was sad, and the other part of me, the biggest part of me, was terrified of everything that was about to change.

I was only 11, I didn’t have a say, and I didn’t really try to argue too much about it. I bought my uniform, I learned how to use the program, and I walked into my new “school” with a bunch of other kids my age that were even more scared than I was. I quickly became close to all of them and we remain friends to this day (one of them is even on the verge of graduating now), but still, it was terrifying to lose everything I was accustomed to in the public school system.

After two years of using on- line school, after I’d mastered the software and the format, after I’d made lifelong friends, after I loved where I was at this point in time, we disbanded. I had to start over again. I had to change everything. Again. I bought the new uniform I needed for this new school, went to my ori- entation, then walked in and became friends with the first girl I noticed smile at me. She welcomed me to her group, and the amount of relief that I felt when they later called me their friend made everything okay. It made all the changes I’d endured okay. Sadly, she and I stopped be- ing friends after about six months, which still hurts me to this day, but without that horrible, awful change, I wouldn’t have gotten even closer with another girl, who became my best friend, to whom I also remain very close.

As scary as it was, as much as it hurt, it was definitely worth it. I’d never had a friendship abruptly end before, and then all of a sud- den I had. She and I slowly became friendly again but we never got back to being actual friends, never got back to being close. On the last day of school, an enormous group of us wanted to take what we called our “family photo” and the girl I was no longer friends with was a part of it. We all huddled together, snapped the picture, and then, going our separate ways, we all started heading to our cars to go home for the summer.

But then I heard my name called in a voice that hadn’t been spoken to me in months. I turned around and there she was: hopeful. Welcoming. Changed. She opened her arms for a hug and we both pulled each other in oh-so-tightly as if to make up for all the lost time. But what has stuck with me ever since is what she whis- pered in my ear between each of our sobs: “thank you.” I couldn’t believe what I’d heard, I said “for what?” Her response? “For everything.” Even though we weren’t friends anymore, even though we still aren’t, even though it took every bit of courage she could muster to say those two words “thank you,” even though neither of us could ever ad- mit, until now, that our experience allowed us to grow. Not only apart, but within ourselves. The old her never would have been able to utter those words, but she wasn’t “the old her” anymore, she was the bigger person. She allowed the experience to change her, as did I.

In the beginning, this whole issue kind of drowned me. It hurt so bad and I was gasping for air but there was nothing. So badly I wanted to make up, but I wanted to maintain my pride and keep saying I was right even more. I kept gasping, hoping to rescue this friendship, this person, but eventually, as you do, I ran out of air. A part of me died, I was devastated that we had both given up on each other, on ourselves. But this allowed me to approach my new school, yes another one, with no guilt, nothing holding me back, and nothing to weigh me down.

There’s a stigma around growing up, around aging, becoming an adolescent, then later an adult, even just matur- ing, because it means you’re not a kid, it means you are about to enter the world with all your rights and all your freedoms and the world is now yours to experience and no one can control you and it’s scary. But the thing I’ve learned as I’ve grown up, all these 16 years: growing up is freeing. Sure it’s scary, change is scary, new is scary, different is scary, the unknown is scary, every- thing in the world is scary. But growth as people is the only thing that can save us from a numbingly monotonous life where the only real growth is your height. I’m not scared. I’m not scared to be a better person. I’m not scared to become more understanding. I’m not scared to grow. I’m only scared to stay the same forever. I want to grow. I want to change. Every day is a learning oppor- tunity, how could I fear that? Growth is what the world is made of. We can all grow, because we are the world. The young, the old, the everywhere-in-betweens, we can all grow. It’s what makes the world go round.

Bridging Ceremony


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 16 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.

 

Spring has sprung

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
April 30, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Spring Into Action 2017 will come to a close at the end of April. We spent the month exploring “welcoming,” what is looks like and why it matters. Rev. Chris Jimmerson is joined by the Spring into Action team panel; Scott Butki, Wendy Erisman, Tomas Medina, Joe Milam-Kast, and Peggy Morton.


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 16 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.

 

Truth, Crushed to Earth, Shall Rise Again

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 16, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

The spiral, one of the most ancient of human symbols, indicates a path which travels to the center and then back out again.


Call to Worship

“Life again”
by John Banister Tabb

“Out of the dusk a shadow
Then, a spark.
Out of the cloud a silence,
Then, a lark.
Out of the heart a rapture,
Then, a pain.
Out of the dead cold ashes,
life again.”

Reading

exerpt from The Painted Drum
by Louise Erdrich

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.

Sermon

Happy Easter Sunday! I told a dear church member this week that I was planning to talk about Jesus this Sunday. ”I’m not coming, then,” she said. “Been there, done that!” I told her I’d been here six years now and had preached five Easter sermons without telling the Christian faith-story, and that it was time. Some among you are going to have a sinking feeling, hearing this. I ask for your trust. I’m not going to suddenly tell you what you need to believe and I’m going to remind you up front that we don’t believe in a supernatural place called hell.

Some of you may wonder why I’m being so careful, hedging the beginning of this telling with so many reassurances. Others, easily triggered by any talk of Rabbi Jesus, will wonder why I just don’t preach about something else for a sixth year.

As I’ve said before, the way I approach faith stories of all religions is the same way I would approach a dream. Whether from the Hindu Upanishads, the Buddhist Sutras, or the Jewish or Christian Scriptures, faith stories often express a truth from the deep ocean of gathered human wisdom. Carl Jung would have called it the “collective unconscious.” When I was studying Jung at Duke, in seminary, with my Aunt Ruth, who was a Jungian psychiatrist, and then later with Polly Telford, a retired Zurich-trained Jungian analyst living in the hills of Appalachia, I was asked to picture the Collective Unconscious as a great sea, and our individual consciousness as an island in that sea. The deep truths wash up on the shore, or seep up through the ground and show up in a culture’s folk tales and fairy stories. They also come up in a culture’s faith stories. Some adherents to some religions insist that the stories are historical, in the way that a reporter would write about what is happening. We know that even history is not historical, but is written with a point of view, with an agenda, and that many important things are left out by those with the power of print and publishing.

So we have the very true (but probably not historical) story of Rabbi Jesus, who serves Western culture, Jung said, as a symbol of the Self. Deeper than the Ego, the Self is your Soul place, the place where you are most who you are, your Inner Wisdom. For this element of Jesus, the syllables by which the Roman culture made his actual name Jeshua easier to pronounce, for this deep more eternal element of who he is in the faith story, Christians use the word “Christ.” Jeshua was his name, and the Christ is his role.

The story of this past week is that the Teacher knew he was in trouble with the authorities, both Roman and religious. He had said things that made people think unsafe thoughts toward both kinds of authority. Even though he was in trouble, he rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. This disappointed many of his fans, because they thought he was going to ride in on a horse like a military conqueror to sweep out the Roman occupation forces who had made a colony of their country most people prefer a satisfying show of force to dealing with things in a more radical way, “radical” meaning getting at the root of the problem. He gathered with his disciples for a meal and then went out into the garden. One of his disciples had sold him out, told the authorities where to come pick him up. They put him on trial, and the puppet ruler, Pontius Pilate, under pressure to keep peace by appeasing all the factions that were upset, turned him over to the soldiers who beat him, made him carry his own cross, the instrument of his execution, to the place made to carry it by the soldiers. Pressed into service rather than volunteering. Catholic church tradition, not the Bible, says that a woman named Veronica came out of the crowd and gave Jesus her veil to wipe his face. The soldiers of the Roman Supremacy system crucified him alongside two criminals, tormented and humiliated him for their amusement, and left him to die. He was buried in a tomb, a cave-like opening that was then sealed, probably with a rectangular stone, if it was like almost all of the other burial caves of that period. The story continues that, on the third day, two women who were his followers came to visit the grave and found the stone moved from blocking the entrance and the tomb empty. The stories continue by telling about people having mystical and/or physical experiences of him after the empty tomb was discovered.

We have an intense story of the journey of courage, of facing fear and death, abandonment and debasement. The journey in this faith story parallels the story of Innana’s descent into the underworld, where she is stripped of her finery, then her clothes, then hung on a hook for three days before she revives and returns to life. This is a Sumerian poem (modern day Iraq and Kuwait) from about 1600 BCE. The story of a divine being dying and rising again is told in many faith traditions, and many times the journey is represented by a spiral or a labyrinth. On one level it parallels the journey of a seed, which falls from a plant into the earth, is dormant until it is cracked open in the darkness and its new shoots find their way to the light and life. On another level it parallels a journey that most human lives take at least once, but more often in many small ways. We have all been through the experience of being stripped of what matters to us: a relationship, a job, a place, our health, our capacity, until it feels that there is nothing left. Marianne Williamson speaks of her nervous breakdown this way, saying that a nervous breakdown is a highly underrated way to reach enlightenment. Many of us have felt that what is important to us has been stripped away by the political and/or the religious authorities. Sometimes there are helpers, people who carry our burden with us because they are forced to by the same authorities stripping us of our powers, and some are volunteers who could be safe but choose to emerge with a touch of sympathy or compassion.

The point of the story is not what “churchianity” makes it, that an angry God killed his own son for sinful humanity. That is child abuse, and we know that. We are not better parents than God.

The point I would take from it is that if you are a disruptor of the system that benefits the powers that be, they will try to kill you, and sometimes they will succeed. That is the reason he died. The deeper point is that love knows that life will break you, and that the Great Love doesn’t stand apart from us, looking at us in pity, but joins us in brokenness. The Easter part of the message is that Great Love then brings life from the brokenness, and leads us again toward the light, toward life. Over and over 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 16 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.

 

Thinking like a mountain

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
April 9, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
austinuu.org

Humans are bound by limited perspectives, which can sometimes lead to faulty decisions when we lack the larger, longer-term view. How do we find that view?


Call to Worship

Visions
by Chris Jimmerson

We gather to see more — our individual perspectives expanded by placing them together in worship of that which is larger than us but of which we are a part.

We celebrate our differences, holding them up as the blessings we give to one another.

We gather to know more, to feel more, to experience more than that which each of us may know, feel and experience in solitude.

We gather to sing. We gather to raise our spirits to higher elevations. We gather to gain a collective vision of love and justice fulfilled.

We gather to worship together.

Reading

exerpt from Thinking Like a Mountain
by Aida Leopold

A deep chesty bawl echoes from rimrock to rimrock, rolls down the mountain, and fades into the far blackness of the night. It is an outburst of wild defiant sorrow, and of contempt for all the adversities of the world. Every living thing (and perhaps many a dead one as well) pays heed to that call. To the deer it is a reminder of the way of all flesh, to the pine a forecast of midnight scuffles and of blood upon the snow, to the coyote a promise of gleanings to come, to the cowman a threat of red ink at the bank, to the hunter a challenge of fang against bullet. Yet behind these obvious and immediate hopes and fears there lies a deeper meaning, known only to the mountain itself. Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.

Sermon

In 1949, a little known University of Wisconsin professor named Aldo Leopold published what would come to be considered a masterpiece in the literature of environmentalism called, A Sand County Almanac; and Sketches Here and There, it contained a section he had titled, “Thinking Like a Mountain”, which opened with those haunting words describing the howling of wolves on a mountainside that Margaret read for us earlier.

In “Thinking Like a Mountain“, Leopold wrote about a shift in perspective he had experienced when as a young man, he and a friend came upon an old wolf and her pack of full-grown pups while hunting deer. They opened fire on the wolves, striking down the old wolf, while the rest of the pack escaped, one with a wounded leg.

Here are Leopold’s own words describing this shift in perspective.

“We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes – something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view”.

He goes on to describe how he witnessed mountainside after Mountainside where hunters had killed off the wolves, thinking it would result in better deer hunting, or ranchers had killed off the wolves thinking to protect their herds (or both). Instead, without the wolves, the deer and the cattle over-populated, destroying the foliage of the mountainside, wreaking havoc with the ecosystem and causing much of the deer and cattle population to die of starvation.

The wolves, though predators, had been a vital part of the ecosystem. In Leopold’s metaphor, the mountains knew this. They were tall enough to have this broader view and old enough to take a longer view.

This was the change in his perspective. He had gotten a glimpse of thinking like a mountain.

And this stepping back to try to get a broader, longer-term view of our actions and their potential consequences is certainly vital to our struggle to prevent the most devastating consequences to our environment from global climate change and other risks from human activities.

It is a crying shame then that our president and his top advisors are thinking like a molehill when it comes to environmental policy. Their shortsightedness and greed for immediate gain are imperiling our future and that of generations to come. It is but one area in which we must resist.

But, this trying at least from time to time to take a broader, longer-term view — this thinking like a mountain — I think is important not just in how we approach our environment, but is also an essential element of our overall personal, public and spiritual and religious lives.

In our personal lives, such a perspective shift can so often change the very course of our lives for the better. The examples are many — the person with a substance addiction who finally sees its broader impact on their life and the lives of their loved ones and seeks help; the sudden realization that a career choice has become misery-making and the subsequent investigation of possibilities that leads to a more life fulfilling choice; an experience of interconnectedness in nature, though meditation, religion or other sources that leads to a shift in values from those centered around individualism to those more centered on relationship with other people and our world.

These perspective shifts have happened many times in my own life. One was when my grandmother was dying slowly from congestive heart failure. My mother was taking care of her at my mom’s house. My grandmother had been in and out of the hospital and had said she did not want to go back to one anymore.

My grandmother was unhappy and perhaps even miserable. She was often confused and would wake in the middle of the night, sometimes walking around, weakly, and in danger of falling, often only partially clothed. My mom was on the verge of emotional and physical collapse from all of this.

I called my mom often, and one day when she picked up the phone I could tell she was crying. She said she was exhausted and had been in bed most of the day, except to check on my grandmother a few times.

As we talked, we began to see a larger perspective. We began to realize that we had been valuing length of life over quality of life. We saw that being in a place that was not her own, lacking in the familiar, was part of the confusion and unhappiness my grandmother had been experiencing. We reached a broader understanding that this was not what my grandmother wanted.

We stopped all but palliative treatment, brought in hospice to my grandmother’s own house and allowed her to live there, in dignity, for the rest of her life, which only lasted a few weeks. She was comfortable and even seemed happy in those last weeks. I visited with her several times, and though weak sometimes, she was once again, in those last weeks, the happy, loving person she had been her whole life.

I can honestly say that it was the gentlest death I have experienced, and I am so glad she did not have to spend her last days unhappy and confused. I am so glad we did not rob her or ourselves of those peaceful, loving final days.

In our metaphor, the mountain already knew all of this, of course. We had to climb it first to get the higher view. Life is like that sometimes, but if we can make the climb and think like a mountain, it can sometimes change our lives and even the lives of those we love for the better.

Now, this is important in our public life also. Taking the time to step back and try to gain a broader, longer-term perspective is more important than ever now, as we attempt to live out our values in the public and political arena. Faced, as we are with such a barrage of distortions and outright lies (or what the Trump administration calls “alternative facts”), it can be easy to get bogged down arguing with one individual Tweet or statement. With an onslaught of executive orders and proposed legislation, we can fall into being overwhelmed by battle after battle and lose sight of the dangerous, common ideological core that all of these these proposals represent.

The mountain sees the falsehoods as the distractions and attempts to misdirect they are intended to be. Them mountain sees the rooms filled with men making decisions about women’s health and rights. It sees the massive tax cuts for the wealthy that would be made possible by proposed legislation that would take healthcare away from millions and millions of people that just won’t seem to die. It sees profit being prioritized over sustaining life on our planet.

The mountain sees an administration full of white people taking aim at the rights of immigrants and people of color. It sees anti-LGBTQ bigot after anti-LGBTQ bigot in positions of power at the highest levels of our government.

The mountain sees these things and more. Because it sees this broader view, the mountain understands that we are up against an ideology of patriarchy, white supremacy and unbridled capitalist oligarchy, and that any of us who do not fit within that power structure are under threat if we refuse to stay in our proper place.

And because of this, the mountain knows we need each other.

The mountain sees that this is what we are up against, and we have to see it too if we are to have any hope of avoiding the fulfillment of such a dangerous, unjust ideology.

And then, once we see this, we also have to think like a mountain about how we might successfully resist it.

Fortunately, social science researchers such as Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan have done some of this wider, longer range thinking for us by studying which social movements in the past several decades have been the most successful.

They found that non-violent resistance is more effective than violence.

They also found that the most disparate movements have been the most successful movements.

I know we have sometimes wondered about this even in this church. Are we better to focus in on just a few social issues and target just them in order to concentrate our limited resources? Or, would we be better off with our folks working on a broad range of social justice issues, as long as enough folks have energy around anyone of them? Should we focus on tactics such as visiting, writing and calling governmental officials, donating to others already doing the work or on more grassroots protests and rallies?

Chenoweth and Stephan’s research make very clear that we are more likely to have success the more disparate our efforts, both in terms of topics and tactics. For instance, our immigration rights activism can inform and support our work for LGBTQ rights, or Women’s reproductive rights and visa versa. Each of these can combine and thereby amplify their efforts when needed. Likewise, we need tactics of both civil, political engagement and protests in the streets.

It is encouraging then that we are seeing exactly these disparate and wide ranging efforts develop in our church and in our larger society these days.

And here’s something cool — having these disparate social justice efforts can in fact help us to see more broadly, to think more like a mountain, and thereby become even more effective at doing justice, as well as live richer more fulfilling lives. They do so by engaging us with folks who may have very different perspectives than our own.

Many of us who are progressive but a part of the dominant culture in our society tend to reach a stage of development regarding how we interact with other races, ethnicities and cultures that is called minimization. We can see and value the many similarities that exist among human beings, but we cannot see or perhaps even resist or minimize the real differences that also exist among us.

And this limits our perspective. It keeps us from ever being able to see past our own life experiences.

Those of us who are white cannot know the life experiences of people of color living within a white dominated culture.

Straight folks cannot know the life experiences of lesbian, gay bisexual and queer people in a hetero-normative society.

Those of us who are male cannot know the life experiences of women living within a still patriarchal system.

Folks assigned a gender at birth that is congruent with how they see themselves cannot know the life experiences of transgender folks in a system that vastly favors gender conformity, which, by the way supports the patriarchy and serves as at least part of the support structure holding up racism and other forms of oppression.

Despite these and other differences though, we can value the perspectives these experiences bring, if we are willing to listen and do the work. We start by interacting with and valuing equally the people and their perspectives whose life experiences are different than our own. We start by refusing to give our own cultural perspective supremacy over another.

By learning to value difference, we can widen our own worldview and thereby become more effective at dismantling these very systems of racism and oppression. We can enrich our own lives and the lives of those with whom we interact.

I want to close by talking a little bit about the spiritual and religious dimensions of this thinking like a mountain.

Sometimes when we have our time of centering and breathing together here at the church or during other parts of our worship together, sometimes when I am out with a group of our folks working for justice, I will close my eyes and have this deep experience of interconnectedness with this religious community that I love and somehow through that with all of the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Within religious and spiritual contexts, these experiences may be called experiences of the holy, of transcendence or of God or the divine.

Some Buddhists and Hindus might call them nirvana, though they would ascribe different meanings to it.

Humanistic psychologist Abraham Maslow had a similar concept he called peak experiences. Other psychologists describe flow experIences.

Extreme sports enthusiasts will tell you that such altered mental states can be brought on by engaging in such sports.

Neurologists, psychologists and others have begun studying these altered states of consciousness more and more. They are discovering what is going within our brains and physiologically when we have such experIences.

They are also discovering that during these experiences we are actually thinking in a different way. We are making connections we do not ordinarily understand. We are experiencing transformations within our core values at a very deep level. We are grasping our universe and our place within it in ways that are much broader than our normal, day-to-day understanding.

Organizations ranging from Google to the Navy Seals are working on ways to help their people have such experiences more easily and more often, because these experiences, this wider, longer-term form of mental processing, seems to enhance creativity, increase productivity and strengthen team cohesion.

It seems that our deep, spiritual experiences, however we might label them, are helping us to gain a more timeless perspective from a much higher elevation, so the speak.

Perhaps this is one of the great purposes of church and religious community.

Together, we help one another cultivate and move into these types of experiences.

Together, we climb the mountain and our view, our perspective, expands.

And from the mountaintop, we glimpse the ancient truths the mountain has learned. We see a glimmer of the vistas the mountain looks out upon.

And knowing something of what the mountain knows, together, we are then better able to go out and change our lives and our world for the better.

This is our great purpose together. We gather in community together, we go up on the mountain together, so that we, together, are better able to nourish souls, transform lives and do justice.

Amen.

Benediction

As we go out into our world today, I wish you the blessing of that far-ranging vision — of vistas overseeing love and justice made real in your lives and in our world.

May the Congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed be.”

Go in peace.


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 16 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.

 

You have to be carefully taught

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
April 2, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

This sermon, a response to an invitation from our auction winner, is about welcome.


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 16 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.

 

Adventures in Hymnody

Kiya Heartwood
March 26, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Ever wondered what those numbers are at the bottom of the page of the hymnals? Find out many things you never knew before.


Call to Worship
Martin Luther

The riches of music are so excellent and so precious that words fail me whenever I attempt to discuss and describe them …. In summa, next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world. It controls our thoughts, minds, hearts, and spirits.

Reading
Plato

Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.

Sermon

Have you ever really looked at your church’s hymnal? Have you ever wondered where those songs came from and why those particular songs were chosen? This article is a very brief history of some of the musicians and theologians determining those choices.

Early Christian music was based on Jewish and Byzantine religious chants, primarily focused on praise or “psalms” such as the 150 Psalms attributed to King David in the Old Testament. These were sung by priests or cantors and trained choirs that sang in unison, often in a call and response style without harmony or instrumental accompaniment.

“Plainsong” or “Gregorian Chant” is the music of the Catholic controlled Western world well into the Sixteenth century. Plainsong is “musical prayer” designed to unite the faithful in “devout thoughts” while the participants symbolically reenact the Last Supper and take Communion. Over time, the music of the Mass gets more elaborate and adds more instruments and harmony but the role of music in worship does not change until the Reformation.

As Saint Augustine writes in his Confessions” … the weaker mind may be stimulated to devout thoughts by the delights of the ear. Yet when I happen to be moved more by the singing than by what is sung. I confess to have Sinned grievously … ” This philosophy makes some music “spiritual” and other more “secular” (of the world or of the Devil.) All church music was in Latin or in the case of the Eastern Orthodox, Greek. The participants weren’t there to enjoy or understand what was being sung.

As far as church music is concerned, the two most influential Protestant reformers are Martin Luther (1483-1546) and John Calvin (1509-1564). Most modern Protestant denominations can find their roots in one of their two approaches.

Martin Luther was a priest and skilled musician who loved music and felt it to be a great tool to change people’s hearts and minds. He said, “Beautiful music is the art of the prophets that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us.”

Luther believed the center of worship should focus on the congregation, especially in singing. He encouraged the use of literary, poetic and secular vernacular to widen the appeal of the Christian message. The Chorale is probably one of his biggest contributions. The other may be the belief that music, and musicians could glorify God. Just because music was pleasurable didn’t necessarily make it sinful. He felt art and artists should be supported and that they should strive to make their work “pleasing to God.” Many denominations are in the Luther camp including Anglicans, Methodists, and Baptists.

John Calvin taught that the only use of music was to sing the Psalms or other scriptures. He said,” these things being not only superfluous, but useless, are to be abstained from, because pure and simple modulation is sufficient for the praise of God, if it is sung with the heart and with the mouth.” The beauty of music was a temptation and “useless”. Music from Calvin influenced denominations therefore have very simple to no arrangements and little to no instrumentation. The Congregationalists, Unitarians, Presbyterians all subscribe to John Calvin’s approach.

Calvin influenced Hymnbooks known as “Psalters” become common with one note per syllable or metric. All hymns still use this metric system. In hymn meter you count the number of syllables per line verses thinking in poetic “feet”. For example “Amazing Grace” and Joy to the World” are both in 8.6.8.6 or in Common Meter. In your hymnal it will say C.M. In early hymn books only the words would be given and by knowing the hymn meter you could choose a tune that your congregation would already know that would fit the hymn’s meter. Try singing “Amazing Grace” to the tune of “Joy to the World” or visa versa and you’ll understand. The songs have different accents on different syllables but they both have the same hymn meter.

In the Sixteenth century the Church of England became the only sanctioned religion in England. If you didn’t agree or follow the rules you were considered a Dissenter or Non- Conformist. One very influential non-Conformist was the minister and hymnist Isaac Watts (1674-1748). Isaac Watts took the Psalms and paraphrased them, often from his own individual perspective. He did this using poetic language and form. This was revolutionary and opened the door to hymnists such as Charles Wesley (1707 -1788), and many others who wrote about a more personal relationship with God or Jesus and the twin armory of an Oxford poetic education and a deeply personal and emotional spiritual perspective.

In America, two key figures are American composer and singing teacher William Billings (1746-1800). Billings developed his own compositions without any formal training. He was perhaps the most popular composer in Revolutionary America. The remnants of his style of American frontier music make up Shape Note and primitive singing to this day. This approach was almost eradicated by the music educator and composer Lowell Mason (1792-1872) whose was trained in Classical European music and felt that Billings and others were too primitive and backwards. He believed that we should honor the European composers and teach standard music notation and Common Practice rules of harmony and theory in public schools. The rules of arranging and music theory from the Common Practice era of Mozart and Hayden are still taught in public schools and colleges today.

Hymnody is a fascinating subject to explore. Find out who wrote and selected the hymns in your hymnal and why? Happy digging!


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 16 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.

Five smooth stones

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 19, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Our great 20th Century Unitarian Universalist minister and theologian, James Luther Adams wrote of five underlying principles of liberal religion. This principles seem eerily relevant still.


Reading
exerpt from Being Human Religiously by James Luther Adams

Whatever the destiny of the planet or of the individual life, a sustaining meaning is discernable and commanding in the here and now. Anyone who denies this denies that there is anything worth taking seriously or even worth talking about. Every blade of grass, every work of art, every scientific endeavor, every striving for righteousness bears witness to this meaning. Indeed, every frustration or perversion of truth, beauty, or goodness also bears this witness, as the shadow points round to the sun.

Sermon

When I was a child attending a little Southern Baptist church in the S.E. Texas town of Groves, one of the stories they used to tell us was the one about David and Goliath from the Hebrew Bible. You may be familiar with it.

Goliath is a giant, philistine soldier who has been taunting King Saul and the Israelites, daring anyone of them to come do battle with him. Saul and the Israelites are terrified

This goes on for 40 days until, David, somewhere between boyhood and young man, arrives on the scene and tells King Saul that he will battle Goliath. Eventually, Saul reluctantly agrees, fearing David is too young, too small and too inexperienced. He loans David his coat of armor, helmet and sword, but they are too big and heavy for David.

Instead, David goes out to challenge the giant with nothing but a wooden staff, his slingshot and 5 smooth stones he gathers from a stream and places in his pouch.

As soon as Goliath sees David, he bellows, basically, “Look at you, ya little pipsqueak. I’ma killya dead.”

And then David drones on for a while about the Lord God Almighty being on his side, until finally, they charge at each other, the giant with his sword raised overhead. David takes a stone out of his pouch, loads it in his slingshot and strikes Goliath right in the center of the forehead. Goliath falls face down upon the ground, at which point David runs over and cuts the giant’s head off using Goliath’s own sword.

This is followed by much celebration, David having what seems suspiciously like a gay love affair with Saul’s son, Jonathan, and David becoming a great warrior who would eventually become the king himself.

They didn’t really talk about the whole David and Jonathan thing at my little Southern Baptist church. They did tell us that the meaning of this story was about how even the small and weak can prevail against their adversaries with the power of the “Lord God Almighty” on their side.

Even as a small child, that explanation didn’t ring true for me. For me, it seemed like David had prevailed because he had been quite ingenious by coming up with one of the first documented examples of insurgent, asymmetrical warfare.

Yes, I was a budding liberal religious geek even back then.

I tell you this whole David and Goliath story because it is also the genesis of another reinterpretation of it by our preeminent, 20th Century, Unitarian Universalist theologian, minister and scholar, James Luther Adams. Much of Adams thinking was greatly informed by what he witnessed while he was in Germany during the rise of Nazism.

It is amazing (and a little scary too) then, that so many of his ideas are still relevant today. I think even those who are not familiar with James Luther Adams or his works, will recognize the influence his ideas still have within Unitarian Universalist thought and theology.

As a liberal religion, and a small one at that, it can certainly feel sometimes like we are up against one or even many Goliaths.

Specifically, Adam’s ideas that I want to explore today, and that I think are still extremely relevant for our faith, are his ideas around, if liberal religion where to pick up five smooth stones as David did, what would be the tenants those stones might represent?

I will briefly go through all five of them in his words, which can be academic and a little dense, and then we’ll break each one down a little further. James Luther Adam’s five stones of liberal religion are:

  1. – “revelation is continuous”,
  2. – “all relations between persons ought ideally to rest on mutual, free consent and not on coercion”,
  3. – we affirm “the moral obligation to direct one’s effort toward the establishment of a just and loving community,”
  4. – “we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and affirm the necessity of social incarnation”,
  5. – “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change justify an attitude of ultimate optimism.”

Now Adams used the terms “God” and “Divine” pretty freely, so let me take a small diversion here to read for you his words about such terms.

He writes, “To be sure, the word “God” is so heavily laden with unacceptable connotations that it is for many people scarcely usable without confusion… Indeed, the word “God” may in the present context be replaced by the phrase “that which ultimately concerns humanity” or “that in which we should place our confidence.”

“God (or that in which we may have faith) is the inescapable, commanding reality that sustains and transforms all meaningful existence.”

So, let’s go through each smooth stone in more detail now.

The first stone is that “revelation is continuous”. Unlike some fundamentalist religions, which believe that once God laid down the sacred scriptures, he said, “Well that’s it. Revelation is now sealed for all eternity. Move along now, nothing else to see here,” we believe that we are always still learning. We must continue to question what we think we know to be the truth. As our island of knowledge expands, so does the shoreline of unknowing and mystery.

We do not provide creeds or easy answers but do support one another in a free and responsible search for truth meaning and beauty. We are responsible for seeking out meaning and new revelations because they help us understand more and more what our creative possibilities are.

I think we see this in our church all the time, as people of all ages explore together the mysterious of living creative, meaningful and ethical lives. We do this in worship, in our faith development classes and throughout the life of this church.

The second stone is that “all relations between persons ought ideally to rest on mutual, free consent and not on coercion” . Now. Of course, Adams recognizes that this cannot be absolute. We require children to attend school, for example. He is warning us though that both religion and the state can easily become coercive – that even persuasion if it is based on fear can easily “be perverted into a camouflage for duress.” It becomes coercive.

Sound familiar?

Adams reminds us that liberal religion grew out of an aversion to overly hierarchical “ecclesiastical pecking orders” – church denominational structures that were extremely top down and coercive in nature.

We see this rejection of extreme hierarchy even today in the way that Unitarian Universalism is organized through a system called congregational polity – each church owns its own property, elects its own board of trustees and calls its senior minister. We are an association of churches, but our Unitarian Universalist Association bureaucracy has no legal authority over any individual church.

We also see this stone reflected in our covenant of healthy relations at this church, which describes how we will be in right relationship with one another.

As ministers, Meg and I don’t get to use the promise of heaven and the threat of hell to grant ourselves authority or as coercion to try to get people to up their stewardship pledge!

Ours is a beloved community based upon on mutual, free consent and not on coercion.

Adams third smooth stone involves “the moral obligation to direct one’s effort toward the establishment of a just and loving community.” We must build the beloved community, that community of love and justice, both within our church walls and, perhaps more importantly, beyond them.

Adams wrote, “A faith that is not the sister of justice is bound to bring us to grief.” It becomes stale and thwarts the inherent creative potential of its people.

He continued, “Freedom, justice, and love require a body as well as a spirit. We do not live by spirit alone. A purely spiritual religion is a purely spurious religion; it is one that exempts its believer from surrender to the sustaining, transforming reality that demands the community of justice and love.”

For the church to be alive and fulfilling its promise, we must be a prophetic church – a church that is participating in the processes that give body and form to love and justice in our world and making a moral demand for such love and justice from our societal and political leaders.

We see this in First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin through the call to do justice in our mission, through our many social justice and interfaith efforts, our people of color group, our alphabet soup group and our white allies for racial equity group, just as a few examples.

We see it through so many of our church members also being involved in non-profit and human rights organizations. Our church members are out in what Adams called the “conflicts and turmoils of the world,” making love and justice real, answering that moral obligation to grow the beloved community.

The fourth smooth stone is that “we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and affirm the necessity of social incarnation”. This one is saying that good does not happen by itself – that we must make it happen by our actions and that the good requires social and institutional forms.

Freedom, love and justice can only be built through organizations — educational, economic, social and political organizations. Freedom, love and justice require, in Adam’s words, “The organization of power and the power of organization”. Our church and our faith must inspire our members to participate in such organizations and, when necessary, build them if they do not yet exist.

Given the authoritarianism and white supremacy that we are witnessing in our world, Adam’s call to organize power seems all the more prophetic now.

A strong example of this in this congregation was when we offered sanctuary to Sulma Franco, an asylum seeker from Guatemala who feared deportation back to a country where her life had been threatened because of her activism on behalf of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer rights. In the three months that Sulma lived on our campus, as many of you will remember, we organized a coalition of local churches, religious leaders and immigrant and human right organizations. That coalition worked with Sulma on a successful campaign to pressure Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to grant Sulma a stay of removal. The stay would allow her the time to stay in the U.S. while the government processed a visa application she had submitted that would give her legal residency status if approved.

A little over two years ago, ICE granted Sulma that stay of removal. AND, that network I mentioned has continued to expand and grow, forming the Austin Sanctuary Network, consisting of well over a dozen local churches and many, many local non-profits and human rights groups. The network has since helped our sister sanctuary church, St. Andrew’s Presbyterian offer sanctuary to another immigrant and her young son.

I am thrilled to let you know also that a few months ago, I joined some members of the Austin Sanctuary Network to accompany Sulma to the ICE office in San Antonio, where they granted her stay of removal for a second year. Then, just a few days ago, Suln1a learned that the government has approved her visa application. She has won legal residency status in the U.S.!

The organization of power and the power of organization.

Adam’s fifth and final smooth stone asserts that “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change justify an attitude of ultimate optimism.” Now this is not a blind or naive optimism, nor is it an immediate optimism. It is perhaps not even that the arc of the universe necessarily bends toward justice. For Adams, it is an optimism that we have all that we need to bend that arc toward justice ourselves, if with each new generation we choose to have the tenacity, courage, perseverance and strength to do so.

Adams recognized that we would experience setbacks. We would make mistakes. He saw that we humans also have a tragic side to our nature – that we can fall prey to the evils of greed, hatred, tribalism nihilism, war and violence, requiring that we adapt a willing humility.

And yet, he also wrote of the great progressive visionaries, who he said, “all sense that at the depths of human nature and at the boundaries of what we are, there are potential resources that can prevent a retreat to nihilism … The affirmative answer of prophetic religion, which may be heard in the very midst of the doom that threatens like thunder, is that history is a struggle in dead earnest between justice and injustice, looking towards the ultimate victory in the promise and fulfillment of grace.”

We have the resources we need. Grace is when we see them and utilize them.

In this church, we have our values: Transcendence, Community, Compassion, Courage and Transformation.

We have our covenant and through it, we have our healthy relations with one another.

I first came to this church over twelve years ago, and since that time I have seen it go through many a challenge and triumph. I think one of this congregation’s great strengths has been and continues to be a willingness to reach for “the resources (divine and human) that are available for the achievement of meaningful change.”

This congregation is filled with love, kindness, humor, joy and willingness to forgive, as well as to see difference and disagreement as potential assets. These resources give us reason for that “attitude of ultimate optimism” of which John Luther Adams wrote.

I would like to leave you with a formulation of the five smooth stones that I saw Connie Goodbread, one of Our Unitarian Universalist Association Southern Region staff members present a while back. I just loved it, and Connie was kind enough to send me her slide.

She took each of the five stones and associated a concept or value word with it. Here they are:

  • Because revelation is continuous, nearly endless discoveries and possibilities lie before us, so we may have great HOPE.
  • When our relationships are consensual, not coerced, we can know the true depth of a healthy and life giving LOVE held in sacred covenant with one another.
  • Fulfilling our obligation to work toward a just and loving community allows us to also know JUSTICE in our own lives.
  • When we deny the immaculate conception of virtue and work to create good in the world through organizing with others, we build up our own COURAGE.
  • Because we have those resources, human and divine, to achieve meaningful change, we may rejoice and know JOY.

Hope. Love. Justice. Courage. Joy.

May we carry these five smooth stones with us throughout our days and throughout the life of this church and our beloved Unitarian Unversalism.

Amen.

Benediction

Go now, with hearts overflowing with hope.

Go now, knowing that the love in this community goes with you until we are together again.

Go now and create justice in our world, filled with the courage to do so and the joy of knowing that nearly endless possibilities still stretch before us.

Maybe the congregation say, “Amen” and “Blessed be.”

Go in peace.


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 16 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.

 

Joy like a fountain

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 12, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

How often do you allow yourself to stop and bask in a joyful moment?


A few years ago, I was participating in a discussion in a class back when I was still in seminary . We had read some books about social movements and social change that dared to offer data suggesting that over the long haul, we humans have actually made some progress toward reducing overall rates of violence and increasing respect for human rights and dignity.

Several people in the class found it very difficult to believe this.

They argued with the data. The discussion got heated.

For a moment, I feared that we might singlehandedly, in one liberal religious seminary class, reverse years of violence reduction in a one afternoon. I had to wonder, why do we as progressives seem to have such trouble accepting it when actual progress has been accomplished?

Do we have some latent and unconscious Calvinistic streak coursing through our veins, inherited through our Puritan historical roots? Aren’t we the ones that broke away from that heritage, proclaiming the universal salvation of all humans?

Yet, there we were, a room full of future Unitarian Universalist ministers, basically arguing that humans were on the whole still catapulting toward violence, destruction and ruin, the victims of our own flawed nature. And it wasn’t the first time I had heard such sentiments expressed among either our ministry or our laity – I’ve been possessed by such despair myself at times.

And so I had to start wondering, where does this come from? If we are the folks that proclaim the inherent worth and dignity of every person, why are we so often so darned grumpy about humanity in general? Why do we find it so difficult to be grateful for it, to find joy in it, when we actually do make progress? Do we have some issue with celebration and joy?

Now, let’s set aside for just a few moments the current rise in authoritarianism in our country and our world that many of us fear threatens that progress I have just been talking about. I’m not ready to embrace the naysaying just yet. Later, we will come back to that and how being able to find and create joyfulness may actually be a key element of organizing successful resistance movements against this authoritarianism.

First though, how do we define joyfulness, why do we seem to have this resistance toward accepting and experiencing it and why does it matter?

I think most of us know joy when we experience it, and yet, it can be difficult to define precisely. Most dictionaries will define it as a form of elevated happiness, yet, for me at least, that seems an inadequate description of the actual experience of joy. In the very few psychological studies that have been done on the subj ect, people described joyfulness as both an increased sense of pleasure or happiness and an experience that expanded qualitatively beyond happiness to include thing like:

  • A sense of right place in the world
  • A feeling of deep connection with other people, as well as with the web of all existence
  • A sense of deep gratitude – of being blessed by forces larger than ourselves, such as love and belonging.

Jewish philosopher and religious thinker, Martin Buber, expressed a way of viewing joy that I find exceptionally beautiful, even though I do not share the same concept of God or divinity that he had.

Buber thought that at the moment of creation sparks of the divine fell into everything that exists in our world. Those sparks are still there, scattered, lying lost and neglected in all that surrounds us. For Buber then, joyfulness happens when we find those sparks, hold them up and release them. And we do that by finding connection with one another and with the natural world (and Buber would have said with God also).

I did an admittedly informal and unscientific public survey on Facebook where I asked people, “How or where do you experience Joy?”

Every single answer had to do with finding connection. Not one person listed buying a new car or getting that job promotion or even changing the world. Their experiences of joy were all bound up in relationship. Here are just a few:

– “Laughing with friends, hugging my family, seeing something in nature or humankind that I’ve never seen before.”

– Another person said, “When I have actually helped someone in reality.”

– Yet another commented, “Making mom smile.”

– Someone else wrote, “Playing the ukulele with my daughter.”

– Another one was, “Lying in bed with my love and my fur babies with nowhere to be.”

– Others spoke of nature, music, the arts and their church.

– One just said, “My kitties.”

Metaphorically at least, they were all finding joy releasing those sparks of the divine.

That all seemed great to me! So, why is it, then, that we can have that resistance I mentioned earlier to fully embracing and experiencing joy? We don’t even talk about it much. A meta survey of psychological research found that 90% of the studies on record regarding emotion where on negative emotions. Researchers had done thousands of studies regarding depression alone, while there were less than 400 studies about things like happiness or joyfulness.

Maybe it is not just progressives that shy away from discussing or examining joy.

In an interview with Oprah Winfrey, Dr. Brene Brown, well know researcher, author, speaker and Goddess from the University of Houston School of Social Work, said, “If you ask me, ‘What’s the most terrifying, difficult emotion that we experience as humans,” I would say, ‘Joy.”

Dr. Brown says that we find joy foreboding because it requires that we be vulnerable – because fully knowing joy will mean we will also fully know loss. So when we experience joy, we may find ourselves holding back, imagining all that could go wrong.

She tells the poignant story of a man in his 70s who she interviewed, who told her that his whole life he kind of stuck to a middle ground, never feeling too much joy. He just kind of stayed right in the middle emotionally, never feeling too much either good or bad. That way, if things did not go well, he would not be devastated, and if they did work out, it would a mildly pleasant surprise.

In his sixties, he had been in a car accident in which his wife of over 40 years had been killed. He told Dr. Brown that since the moment he realized she was gone, he has regretted not leaning harder into their moments of joy together – that not doing so certainly did not protect him from such great loss.

Dr. Brown goes on to say that, in all of her 15 years of research, the only way she has found to cultivate joy, as well as to interrupt ourselves when we begin to get that sense of foreboding that can disrupt our joy, is to practice gratitude – to find some regular, periodic way of recognizing that for which we are grateful. She says simply that, “We don’t get joy without gratitude.”

In addition to Dr. Brown’s research, I read some very interesting studies that indicate we can amplify our sense of gratitude and our experiences of joy by sharing them with our loved ones. Sharing our joy increases it and seems to also increase our sense of well-being and life satisfaction over time.

And sharing our joy may also be good for those around us and well beyond them. A 20-year, longitudinal study in almost 5,000 people found that joy is “contagious” through three degrees of separation within our social networks.

Here is how one of the study investigators described how it works, “For example, in a network of sexual partners, if you have many partners, and your partners have many partners, you are more susceptible to catching a sexually transmitted disease. Similarly, the most connected people have a greater likelihood of catching happiness.”

I’m not sure I like STDs as a metaphor for my joy, but the point is that we can “infect” each other with joyousness at the level of our friends, our friend’s friends and our friend’s friend’s friends. Given the STD metaphor, let’s just not let it get too friendly.

And this… this all may matter even more than we might otherwise suspect. At the individual level, studies have found that living more joyfully can result in developing greater antibody responses when vaccinated, reduce the risk of heart disease and limit the severity of cardiac problems if they do occur. It can also reduce the incidence of pulmonary disease, diabetes, hypertension and colds and other upper respiratory infections as well.

In a Dutch study of elderly people, it reduced an individual’s risk of death by 50% over the nine-year study period. Studies have also found that infusing children’s education with a sense of joyfulness increases educational attainment and can accelerate movement through the developmental stages. People who have specific gratitude practices are more likely to exercise, have regular medical checkups, wear sunscreen and engage in other preventative healthcare actions.

At the group level, shared joyful experiences increase group bonding and cohesion and can be one of the more effective ways to educate and raise consciousness on social issues. And this is where we return to how a sense of joyfulness may be a key element in efforts to resist the threats to civil and human rights, our environment, the institutions of democracy and on and on that we are seeing in our country and throughout the world these days.

As many of what had been separate social movements begin to join together so that we can build more power, this sense of joyfulness can help bind together diverse communities, who until recently may have been strangers to one another, and it can breathe life into organizing such broader, larger, more diverse movements.

We do not have enough time left today to go into all that is being studied and tried; however here are just three ways that have already proven effective in infusing joy into organized resistance and bringing about social change:

  1. The use of humor as a community organizing strategy. I’ll give some examples shortly.
  2. The use of culture (arts, street theatre, advertising, music, singing, food, faith rituals, etc.) also as an organizing tool, and
  3. Protest as theatre and carnival- wherein a protest might be like a huge party. It might include the usual march and rally, but might also include street theatre (such as a die in), music, dancing, food booths, religious vigils, chanting and singing and the like.

For example, “Church Ladies for Choice” a mixture of women and gay men in drag protect clients entering a Brooklyn reproductive health clinic from Far right, anti-choice activists by getting between those activists and the clients, playing tambourines and singing such songs as, “This Womb is My Womb” to the tune of “This Land is My Land.”

An observer at the protest as carnival event outside a meeting of the World Trade Organization a while back commented, “I watched a hundred sea turtles face down riot cops, a gang of Santas stumble through a cloud of tear gas, and a burly Teamster march shoulder to shoulder with a pair of Lesbian Avengers naked.”

Closer to home, when a Texas A&M alumni recently rented a space at the school and invited self-professed white supremacist Richard Spencer to speak, rather than stifling Mr. Spencer’s first amendment rights, the school and its students instead organized a huge Unity rally to occur at the same time as the speech. Held in the school’s football stadium, this protest as carnival event included speakers, live music and other fun activities.

Several of the student associations at Texas A&M also worked together to ensure that by far the largest part of the audience for the white supremacist’s speech consisted of students of color.

Even closer to home, here in Austin, at the University of Texas, to protest the State of Texas legalizing open carry of guns on college campuses, students and others instead open carried… life-like replicas of a certain part of the male anatomy.

I think that not only can this sense of joyfulness and playfulness make our social justice work more effective, but that we also need it in between the rallies and the marches and the lobbying and the calling representatives and the testifying and all of those other activities in which so many of us are engaged right now. There is so much, and it can become so overwhelming.

Cultivating joy in our lives and with each other can sustain us and help us avoid burnout and cynicism. It can nourish our souls and provide the fuel for the long work of doing justice that lies ahead of us.

Especially in a religious setting such as ours, I think a sense of joy is absolutely necessary. As one religious scholar whose work I read recently put it, “Religion without bliss devolves into moralism.”

I think this congregation has a wonderful sense of playfulness and humor – a joyfulness in our worship and throughout the life of the church. As we face the challenges posed by rising authoritarianism and persist in fighting back against racism and other forms of oppression, continuing to cultivate that joy together becomes even more important than ever.

In every ministry team and committee meeting, in every planning session for our next social action, in every classroom and even in our individual interactions in hallways and parking lots, may we make it so.

May we continuously express our gratitude for and the joy we find in each other.

My beloveds, life’s challenges and sorrows will come. We face daunting hurdles ahead in our struggle for justice, equity and the protection of our democratic processes.

May we never let this rob us of our joy.

May we cultivate joy together, finding and upholding those sparks of the divine that are within us and all around us, if only we remember to look for them.

Amen.


 

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

Most sermons delivered at the First UU Church of Austin during the past 16 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.

 

Get it to the size of an Oreo

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
March 5, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

The sixth principle urges us to promote peace, liberty and justice. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights describes the rights the nations of the UN agreed should be held by all men, women and children.


What I hear from so many of you in the past several months is that there is such a feeling of overwhelm. Quotations abound about never giving up, and the only people who accomplish great things are those who keep working when there is no hope, and that giving up is not an option, there is too much to be done. Yet there is too much to be done. Our sixth principle is overwhelming.

It says that we, as UUs, agree to affirm (say yes to,) and promote (try to get more people to say yes to) the goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all. That’s really big. It makes a person think the framers of the principles were getting tired at the end there, and that they just wrote one that was the equivalent of “well, we want the whole world to be okay, everything else plus that big freezer in the garage.” What do you do with a principle that large and unwieldy?

There is a funny short film on youtube with the title “The Man Who Ate a Car”, and it opens with him talking in his kitchen.

“A car is just the sum of its parts, and a lot of the parts aren’t that big, just a couple of inches across. 75% of the parts of an automobile are a couple of inches across and half an inch deep. That’s the size of an Oreo cookie. And the ones that are too big, you just machine down, smooth out.”

Most of us don’t have time, in the biggest part of our lifespan, to do much for the world. We are busy making a living, raising children, maintaining the relationships we choose, taking care of our health and strength or adjusting to its loss. It’s hard to find time and energy for leaving the world a better place. Ralph Waldo Emerson said a successful life was to leave the world ” a little bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you live…” Many of us do that. I am beginning to know some of the stories of a good number of people in this room and I can tell you there are many people here who will leave the world a little better than they found it. Lives have breathed easier because you have lived. What will you be known for when you are gone? What will be the elements of your legacy? I love how Emerson speaks so hopefully of “a redeemed social condition.” Just one?

Unitarians and Universalists have thrown their life energies in with the forces of change over the centuries. Unitarian Horace Mann organized the public school system Universalist Clara Barton founded the Red Cross. Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes was led by his liberal faith to a much more inclusive interpretation of the law. Thomas Starr King (after whom one of the UU seminaries, the one in Berkley, is named) was inspired to fight the California legislature for continued land rights of Mexicans. Jane Hull founded Hull House in Chicago, and began to professionalize social workers; moving caring for the poor from religious institutions that often pressured you to convert to get care, to non-religiously affiliated professionals. Roger Baldwin was led to establish the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). May Sarton wrote poetry inspiring her readers with truth and beauty. Susan B Anthony worked her whole adult life to get the vote for women.

Social action, politics and art are some ways we can make the world a better place. Most of us, in the ordinary course of our lives, are doing it by being loving family members, teaching our children strong values of usefulness, tolerance, open minded curiosity, kindness, knowledge, wisdom, and love. We teach the children in the church, we care for our grandchildren, we cook for people and visit them when they need company. We make the world a better place by being good friends, by trying to behave correctly and do the right things. Do those actions bring about world community with peace, liberty and justice for all? We can barely make justice within our own church, our own families. How can we heal the whole world?

This principle is over-large, and it sits there, parked in the driveway of every UU who is resolving to live the faith.

“This is a long term activity,” says the man who ate the car. “Look, it took five years. I ate my first two lug nuts on Dec 30, 1990 — finished the last piece of the clutch housing on Feb 14 1995.” Compared to a task with no beginning, no middle and no end, eating a car sounds almost easy.

World community, with peace, liberty and justice for all is too big a goal. It tells us that we are global thinkers, though. We are not “America First-ers.” That doesn’t fit our principle. We don’t say “I’m okay and my family is okay, so let the other people take care of themselves.” We have a big calling, we are called to world community with peace, liberty and justice for all. We are not individually called to that, though. We are called as a community. We’re not alone, We get to rest. We get to be ill, we get to fall back from the front lines when we are battle weary. We’re on a team. A big team with hundreds of thousands of UUs all over the world all holding this same goal.

Overwhelm burns us out. When we can’t get anywhere, when the things we do accomplish seem so insignificant compared to what we are supposed to be accomplishing that we feel they are nothing. We don’t want the sixth principle to make us feel that all our small efforts are insignificant. What I learned about setting goals is that you are supposed to make a goal from something you can control. Instead of saying “I’m going to be a catalyst for change like Barbara Jordan was!” you might say “I’m going to change one thing — about myself — this week.” That you can do, usually. Instead of saying, “My goal is to be a millionaire,” you make a goal of saving a certain amount of your income, or of living within your means day by day, or just or writing down what you spend. Goals should be measurable. Did I do it or not? They should be attainable. We can say that we have a goal to do some action every day to make the world a better place. Most of us are doing that just by living the principles, making our phone calls, supporting the lawmakers of our choice, running for office ourselves, and trying every day to do the next right thing, supporting those who are on the forefront of the work for justice.

One good purpose that can be served by an extra-large, unattainable goal, though, is that it is a measuring stick we can hold up to the various situations and decisions we face as we move through our lives. “Is this going to be more or less like world community?” You might ask yourself. “Will this make more peace, more liberty, more justice, or less?” A good large measuring stick can help as choices come up. Sometimes you still don’t know what to do. You make mistakes. That’s ok. Life is long, and there must be room for mistakes.

Let’s take that sixth principle little by little, and let’s take our time. Take a big important stand or do something small every day, or both. Just hold the goal in mind. Look at your home, your work, your church through its windshield. Machine those pieces down until they are the size of an Oreo cookie.


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 16 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.

 

Dealing with difficult people

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
February 26, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Some people are harder to be comfortable with than others. How do we deal kindly with people who are difficult?


Call to Worship
– Albert Schweitzer

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.

Reading
– Rabindranath Tagore

“When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy.

When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.

When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.”

Skit by the Healthy Relations team

Two actors face one another with coffee mugs.

Penelope: talking on and on

Dorothy: nodding, eye contact. She says something that is encouraging, like “Oh, my,” or “Is that so?”

Narrator claps to freeze the action: Penelope and Dorothy are talking at coffee hour. Penelope is what we call “A Talker!” Right now, Dorothy is giving listening cues. She’s making eye contact and nodding.

Claps to start action again

Penelope: resumes talking on and on

Dorothy tries to respond a couple of times to no avail, then deflates.

Narrator claps to freeze action:

After a couple of failed attempts to engage, Dorothy realizes that this is going to be more of a monologue than a dialogue. Notice how her enthusiasm for this encounter fizzles.

Claps to start action again.

Penelope keeps talking.

Dorothy looks at her watch. She drops her eyes, looks at the floor, looks around.

Narrator claps to freeze the action: Dorothy looks at her watch. She ends eye contact. These are cues that should let Penelope know that listening is coming to an end.

Now, Penelope is going to keep talking. Look, she’s closed her eyes so she can keep talking without seeing the cues Dorothy is trying to give. But Dorothy has some skills for just this situation. What would you do?

Claps to start action again

Dorothy looks up, puts her arm on Penelope’s arm, (Penelope is still talking) and says, over Penelope’s talking “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to go ask my husband something.” Smiling, she walks away.

Narrator: Many of us have been taught not to interrupt, but in situations like this, it’s actually okay. Have you met a Penelope? Have you been a Penelope? What might you do differently next time?


Sermon

People, huh? Some of us have been in this situation as the listener, some as the talker, and some of us have been on both sides. To paraphrase the Quakers, “Everyone’s a little difficult except me and Thee, and even thee’s a little difficult.” I’m talk about how to deal with difficult people this morning, and I want you to know that, like a Freshman Psychology major, I find myself a little bit in each example of difficult people.

The over talker is difficult, especially for people who are wired more toward wanting to consider their own words before talking. By the time there is a break in the conversation, if there ever is, the time for them to say what they wanted to contribute to the dialogue has passed. There are people who control a situation by filling up the space with their own thoughts. They are out of balance. Most people who are difficult for us are difficult for everyone, and usually it’s because they are out of balance internally, or they were raised in an environment which was out of balance, and they had to adapt to that in order to survive.

If over talking happens in a meeting or at work we might wait for the person who is the facilitator to say something to them, like “thank you. Let’s hear from someone who hasn’t spoken yet.” If you are with them and feeling taken advantage of, you might do as Dorothy did, make the social signals that you are ready to be done, and if those don’t work, tough the person’s arm and say you need to go. If that feels rude, consider that, by holding you against your will, they were being rude first. The Buddhist teaching to do no harm comes into play here. Do no harm to others, or to yourself. If someone is taking more of your time or your energy than you are willing to give, they are doing you harm, and you do them harm by allowing them to do wrong.

We make those cultural signals, but some people are difficult because they don’t share your culture’s signals. When I was the Chaplain at a women’s college in SC, at least once or twice every September I’d have a nice young women in tears in my office. “My roommate hates me!” she’d say. I would ask for examples. “She doesn’t smile at me, she’s rude, she talks mean to me, and she doesn’t help me when I ask her to.”

In Southern culture, girls smile. When you see each other, you say hey. You have little chats about nothing much, to establish connection. When someone says “my this is heavy,” you recognize that as a request for help. When you have something to say about someone, you don’t say it directly, you find some slantwise way to say it that feels gentler to you.

Her roommate wasn’t doing any of that. Finally I learned to ask “Where is your roommate from?”

“B-B-B-Boston…” Different culture.

Some difficulties are caused by us not reading one another’s cultural signals. The cure for this is talking about it, and most therapist type people will recommend and “I statement” format. “When you do ______ I feel _______” “When you don’t look up at me and smile when I come into the room, I feel like you wish I weren’t there.”

What are some other techniques people use for being difficult? They don’t listen, or if they hear your words, they don’t seem to comprehend them. Some folks are out of balance in a way that makes their inner mind very noisy, and they can barely hear you over all the lists, resentments, fears, plans, obsessions, and worries inside their own minds. Sometimes it can be effective to stop the conversation periodically and ask the other person to repeat back to you their understanding of what you said. Then you repeat to them your understanding and memory of what they said, and when you’re on solid ground together then you go on. I used to trust this method more than I do now, having had experiences with a couple of folks long ago and far away where they repeated what I said and they told me I was understanding them correctly, and a couple of days after the conversation that understanding seemed to have evaporated. It still is useful, even if it’s not infallible. I did have a friend who said he and his wife had stopped fighting because all the rules their marriage counselor gave them about communicating just made it too much trouble.

Some people are difficult because their head is full of assumptions about you. Some folks truly believe that lesbians hate men, and that could skew their perceptions of me. Those of us who are people of color have had many experiences with assumptions and stereotypes. So your mama says you have to be twice as good as white people, you must be exceptional. And we make movies about exceptional People of Color, but we won’t be in a just world until a mediocre person of color can get as far as a mediocre white person.

Some people are difficult for me because they are chaos people. Their plans are always done at the last minute, their hair is always on fire, they only know the answers to the questions about what’s happening, where things are, how it will go, , so every part of the event has to go through them personally. Or they want to decide everything on a case by case basis rather than going by the book, so things feel unfair and subjective, and the whole operation rests on their shoulders alone. They don’t delegate and they don’t communicate, so people around them get exhausted and burned out trying to be part of their show. It might work well for them, but not as well for people who are on their crew. I try not to be on projects with this kind of person. If I am, I try to be the boss of the project so I can lay out guidelines and deadlines.

Some people’s technique for being difficult is what writer Julia Cameron calls the “wet-blanket matadors.” You have nice forward motion, you and the rest of the crew are going places, and this person slows it all down. “Let’s think about this some more, let’s ask three more agencies’ thoughts on the matter, we tried this before and it didn’t work twenty years ago in 1996.”

Some trainers recommend that you just avoid these folks who are difficult for you if you can avoid them. “Fly like an eagle,” one advises, rise above the fray. That can work. If the person is your boss you can try to transfer or find another job. Many of you have changed jobs for that reason. Sometimes you just can’t avoid the person. They are your parent or your child, your sister or your spouse. Michelle Obama couldn’t avoid all the people who made cruel and racist comments about her. “When they go low, we go high,” she said. Sometimes we can rise above, but sometimes it feels impossible.

Many people are difficult because they are out of balance, and others are difficult because they just don’t share the values we hold dear. They want us to do things we feel uncomfortable with, or things we think are wrong. We can’t change them, usually. We only have ourselves to work with. Sometimes we can change the environment, leak their secrets to the press or let the boss’s boss know what’s going on. There are risks involved with trying to change the status quo.

Most teachers will tell us that people who are difficult for us are our best teachers in life. How would we know what we need to work on next in ourselves if it weren’t for that boss driving us crazy or that sister who makes us paralyzed with resentment?

One of my teachers, a woman named Byron Katie, has a series of questions she asks you to ask yourself as you investigate a resentful thought you have. She offers a “Judge Your Neighbor” worksheet that you fill out, letting yourself say the truest most judgmental things possible. I found a video this week of her working with a young woman. Sweetie, she said, “Thought appears, what’s your thought?” The woman read from the sheet. “My mother is manipulative, controlling and deceitful. She won’t let me be who I am, and she’s trying to make me exactly like her.” Katie asked for an example. The woman looked blank for a minute. “Well, she thinks I’m wrong about everything.”

“That controls you how?” Young woman looks blank. “So your mom wants to control you, is that true?”

Yes, the woman says. “Are you sure that’s true?” The woman looks a little uncertain, then thinks of another example.

“I made a scrap book of my values, and showed it to her. She said she thought all my values were wrong.” Katie nodded.

“You asked her what she thought and she told you. How does that control or manipulate you?” “How do you act when you think that thought, that your mother is trying to control and manipulate you?” The woman said she acted angry, and withheld conversation and company from her mother. She just wanted her mom to love and respect her for who she was.

Let’s turn this thought around, Katie suggested. The famous turn-around. I’m controlling and manipulative?” The woman tried. K nodded. Yes, sweetie, you’re trying everything you can to make your mother respect your values. Who should respect you and your values?

Me? K nodded. “You make a book of your values and asked her what she thought. She was honest with you but you don’t respect and love her for who she is. You want her to change. Her values are her values and your values are your values. If you respect yours and you love her without trying to manipulate and control her, she won’t be able to hurt you.

So your mother is manipulating and tries to control you. “Who would you be without that thought?” Katie asked. The young woman thought she’d be much happier without thinking her mother was deceitful and controlling. She’d be able to have a nice life and be around her mom.

The fourth question: “Can you think of a non-stressful reason to hold onto that thought? I’m not asking you to let it go, I’m just asking if there is a sane reason to hold on to it.” The woman shook her head.

She calls this form of inquiry “The Work,” and you can get everything free on her web site. Her techniques are not infallible or universally applicable, but they can be very helpful.

So how to deal with difficult people? Avoid if you can. “Take your sails out of their wind,” the 12 step people say. What might that mean in your situation? Ask yourself what would it mean for me to take my sails out of their wind? I bet some kind of answer will come to you. Sometimes you change your environment and sometimes you change yourself. Talk to them directly, with love, if you can. Make your position clear. Be clear and loving in what you ask them to do instead of what they’re doing. “I will be able to stay in the conversation with you much better if you speak to me respectfully and with kindness.” “We will be able to have a much more productive work life if you tell me the truth/don’t lay claim to my ideas/etc.

So: avoid, take your sails out of their wind, talk directly to them. Other ideas: Pema Chodron, a renowned Buddhist teacher, says “Take the target off your back.” She means by this that we can get caught up in the fire of aggression, and that if we have an inner quiet, if we are strong inside, we can refuse to respond to aggression with aggression, and its fires will die out, or find some other target to hit. Rabbi Jesus said that too “Don’t return evil for evil, but return good for evil.” It’s a way to drive your enemies crazy, he said.

I have seen good luck and bad luck with this. For two years after a friend divorced her husband, he was so angry when they talked on the phone, it felt abusive. She was a good Buddhist and kept her aggression low, speaking kindly and with respect. It got worse and worse. She wrote him that he had lost his privilege of talking to her on the phone, and that they would communicate about the children by email only from then on. The emails were so terrible, they were hard to read. She wrote back kindly and with respect, but they got worse and worse. Finally she asked her friend Charlie at work to read them for her, pick out the information she needed, where he would pick up the children, etc. and delete the rest. They kept being terrible until the day she wrote “the person who reads your emails for me said you were going to pick the boys up at 5, and that’s fine with me.” I call that technique letting the sun shine on reality. I don’t know why, but some people who want to treat you badly count on you for some reason to protect them and their reputation. Why is that?

I could go on for an hour describing various different ways to be a difficult person, and suggesting strategies for dealing with each different way, and that’s fun, but the main way to deal with irritating, annoying people (not the evil ones or the ones who are out to destroy you) is by changing yourself. There is the metta prayer, where you pray for them everything you want for yourself. I’ve spoken to you about this before. The 12 step folks call it the Resentment Prayer.

There is doing a little research to see if you can get to an understanding of why they are the way they are, and then your stance toward them will be as it is toward a broken person, with somewhat more compassion.

There is research into their culture to see if you can read their actions differently, in the context of their own ways.

There is asking yourself whether they are really trying to drive you crazy by being so awful. Is it true? How do you feel when you think that thought? Can you think of a sane reason to keep that thought? What happens if you turn your complaint about them around? Is there truth in it when the finger is pointing your way?

The Chinese book of wisdom, the I Ching, says you have to build your own good character. You have to be soft on the outside and hard on the inside. Most people are the opposite. Soft on the outside and hard on the inside means you have begun and continue to shape your good character. The point of doing that is to be able to see more and more clearly what is the next right thing to do.


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 16 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.

 

To run and not be weary

Susan Yarbrough
Feburary 19, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

The distance of social justice efforts is enormous, and we often wonder how we can find the strength to stay the course.


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 16 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.

 

Right Effort

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
February 12, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

In discussing this element of the Buddhist Eightfold Path, we look at what is an effective way to try to do things. How do we focus our efforts toward justice?


Call to Worship
By Octavia E. Butler

All that you touch — You Change.

All that you Change — Changes you.

The only lasting truth — is Change.

God is Change.

Reading:
by Kamand Kojouri

The guilt you felt
when you were smiling
and others were suffering,
the guilt you felt
when you were petty with friends
and impatient with your parents,
when you were rude to your teachers
and didn’t stand up for strangers,
that guilt
is marvellous.
It proves that you are human,
that you want to be better.
Thank this guilt for teaching you,
for making you aware.
And now endeavour to better yourself.
It is a lifelong work to become
the person we want to be.

Sermon

We’re in the midst of a series on the Buddhist 8 fold path. This morning’s element of the path is “Right Effort.” You try, you try with your heart and mind and spirit, but not too much. The Middle Way was where the Buddha recommended we live, having been an indulged prince, then a starving holy man. He taught that both indulgence and asceticism made you spend too much attention on yourself. Try, but not in a way that wastes energy, persist, rest, don’t give up. I had an indelible lesson in this concept on the New River one summer. We were learning to paddle canoes. The summer had been droughty, and the water was low. The teacher beckoned me to paddle to where she was. I paddled. Faster, faster, but there was no water to catch my paddle. She cocked an eyebrow at me and said “Why don’t you just get out and walk it over here?” She had the grace not to laugh. So I was trying hard and not getting anywhere.

Teacher Eric Kolvig says you can sum up this aspect of the path by saying “Try to do your practice, but don’t try too hard, and never give up.” Try, don’t try too hard, and don’t give up.

Now this might sound like I’m veering off the path, but I’ll bring it back around.

There were many great moments in the movie Hidden Figures. The Atlas Rocket was part of the launching system for the first manned space rockets. NASA, in the early 60’s, had human computers, men and women who would spend their days doing mathematical calculations. The movie follows three Black women who work as human computers at NASA. One of the most striking moments in the movie is a quiet one, but it’s a turning point. Katherine Johnson was promoted to work directly with the men who were trying to engineer the rocket to go up, and then to come down again in a way that would keep its pilot alive. She worked in the building with the white male engineers, but the only “Colored” bathroom was half a mile away, on the other side of the campus. Every time she needed to relieve herself, she took an armful of papers and trotted half a mile there and then half a mile back. Finally the man in charge of the program, needing to ask her a question and unable to find her, snapped at her about her long 40 minute breaks. Just what in the world was she doing for that length of time in the middle of the day?

Embarrassed, she has to confess that she’s going to the bathroom, and that her bathroom is half a mile away. One of the movies best moments was seeing the face of this man as he realized what she’d been up against, and then, a second later, realized he’d never even thought about it, never wondered, that it really couldn’t have occurred to him. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t – couldn’t think about it. As a man, he had more than likely drawn a velvet curtain over any thoughts of lady bathroom activities. You know how you just don’t think about certain things… you don’t even know you’re not thinking of them. In a blog post called “If America Were a Game of Monopoly,” the writer postulates four playing pieces, colored white, yellow, black and red. Using 2008 statistics on population, family income, and net worth, they describe the rules.

“If America were a game of Monopoly the rules would be a bit different. The following example considers race only to keep it simple. Adding class would be interesting too, but for now I leave that as an exercise for the reader.


RULES:

1. There are four players: one white, one red, one black and one yellow.

2. The white player is the banker.

3. Starting amounts: Before play begins give each player the following amounts to start with:

  • $1500 white
  • $1085 yellow
  • $105 black
  • $75 red

(Based on median household net worth in 2000.)

4. When passing Go: Each player will get the following amounts when passing Go:

  • $200 white
  • $170 yellow
  • $140 black
  • $120 red

(Based on median personal income for 2000.)

5. Settling disputes: If there is a dispute between players, it is put to a vote. (See Voting below).

6. Changing rules: If a player asks for a rule change, it is put to a vote (See Voting below).

7. Voting: To win a vote a motion must get at least 5.1 votes. Each player gets the following number of votes:

  • 8.2 white
  • 1.3 black
  • 0.4 yellow
  • 0.1 red

(Based on those reporting one race on the 2000 census.)

8. Speaking: The white player can speak at any time. Other players speak only when spoken to. They are allowed to raise their hand to try to get the attention of the white player to ask a question.
(Based on media ownership.)

9. Jail:
Going to jail: Red and black players go to jail if they land on any corner square except for the Just Visiting Jail square.
(Blacks are three times more likely to be stopped by the police and have their car searched. Both blacks and Native Americans are way more likely to wind up in prison than whites.)

Getting out of jail: To get out of a jail you must pay $1000 or wait five turns.
(Prison is way more damaging than in Monopoly. Also, it is way easier for the rich to avoid prison altogether.)

10. The red player: Decisions to build or sell houses must be approved by the white player. The white player can build on any of the red player’s squares and keep all income for himself.
(Based on the government’s management of remaining Native lands.)

11. All other rules are the same.

Advice to white players:
If the other players complain that the rules are unfair, say “Get over it!” Point out that the game is fair and democratic: they can always ask for a rule change and put it to a vote. Also point out that the white player does not always win, so if they lose it is their own fault.

Personal observations:
Most white players act as if the same rules and conditions apply to everyone, as if everyone starts with $1500 and gets $200 for passing Go, etc. If anything, they think yellow players get more for passing Go, that black players get more turns and that red players are too noble to care about winning.”


So, we are in a political situation where a white nationalist is the President’s main strategist and advisor. Their policies seem to be to make sure the Monopoly rules stay as they are, or advantage the white piece just a bit more. As people of justice, while we may not be able to fix everything, we have a responsibility to see the system the way it is. We have a responsibility to wrestle with our blind spots. Those among us who are white are not wrong for being white. But it makes for some big blind spots. Those among us who are men are not wrong for being men, It makes for some blind spots. Those among us who are able bodied are not wrong for being able. It makes for some big blind spots.

Most of us are trying to stand for UU values of justice and democracy. We are trying to learn where our power lies and how to influence those who can change and enforce laws. Justice is a practice for many among us. We stand with our Muslim neighbors. We want to protect our undocumented neighbors from the aggressive enforcement tactics ICE is using in Travis County in the past few days. How do we do that? We learn what our rights are as citizens and what our rights are as undocumented residents. We learn what ICE’s powers are. We learn how to interrupt unjust interactions so that we can live to interrupt another day. We try, we persist, we rest, we don’t waste energy, and we don’t give up.

I’m the head of a department at NASA. I want to do the right thing. I want to be a good person. I’ve got my disadvantages I’m dealing with. I’m trying to build a rocket here, I can’t be thinking about what happens when someone I work with needs to go to the bathroom. I can’t be thinking about what citizen schoolchildren fear about their undocumented parents. When my mom was late picking me up from school I worried that she’d forgotten me, not that she was handcuffed in a van on her way to a detention center.

I can’t be thinking about what it’s like to be preparing my black daughter to drive across Texas to her new job, worrying her along through every mile, knowing she’s got a mouth on her and that she’s not scared enough. I can’t see all the things I can’t see.

If I am a UU in 2017, I’m called to open my imagination. I can try to put myself in someone else’s shoes, as a spiritual exercise, someone who is fighting cancer or someone who is parenting a child with special needs, to put myself in the shoes of someone who walks around in this world every day playing the game of life at a much higher degree of difficulty than I am, what are their mornings like, their afternoons, their evenings? What is it like for them to find a doctor, to find friends, to deal with plumbing problems, with legal problems? What is it like for them to get an apartment, a home loan, to pick a school, join the service, to find a job?

If you have the privilege of being a citizen, find out what you can do with that privilege. If you have the privilege of being light skinned, ask yourself what you can do with that skin color. Asking to see the manager, by the way, is one of my powerful privileges.

If I’m the engineer in charge of a section of NASA, I can’t fix the whole system of white supremacy. I’m in the game. How it’s set up is not my fault, but once I notice how it’s set up, once I notice the obstacles in the way of my coworker that were invisible to me, I have to decide what to do. Can I do one thing? Do I dedicate my life to fixing the bathroom situation all over? I have a rocket to build. I had obstacles, but people helped set it up so that it would be easy for me to be an engineer and work on rockets. No one told me “boys don’t do that kind of job, honey.” I can go to the bathroom in a white or a colored bathroom. I can’t change laws, but if I wanted an appointment with senator, he would see me. Try, but don’t try too hard, rest, persist, don’t give up.


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 16 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.

 

Beauty walk

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
February 5, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We are surrounded by beauty, so why do we so often fail to notice it?


Our Unitarian Universalist 4th principle says that we “affirm and promote a free and responsible search for truth and meaning. I add beauty to that search. I add beauty, because I think sometimes to find or make meaning, we need it. Sometimes the truth is a hard truth, it is a difficult reality, and so we also need to be able to still experience beauty in order to make meaning in our lives, to be able to continue to see the divine within ourselves and all around us.

Here is a video I would like to share with you.

VIDEO (Music and images with no dialog)

I made that video several years ago for a class in seminary from photos taken on several of our local nature trails and in one of our neighborhoods that at the time was what we might call, “transitional”. Now, I would call it, “unaffordable.”

Anyway, I wanted to transpose those images from that neighborhood and the images from the nature trails to show that the duality that we so often set up between nature and humans along our creations is a false duality – that we are within and a part of nature. Beauty can be found everywhere.

And I loved the delicious incongruity of the cross that appeared to be rising from out of the recycling trashcan, as well as the “Ready or not, Jesus is coming” sign that was in the same lot as the bright red fence with the “Moneyland” sign on it. It seems perhaps that our separation between the sacred and the secular is also a false duality.

Human rights and environmental activist, poet and scholar Carol Lee Sanchez is of Lakota native American heritage. In her article, “Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral: The Sacred Connection”, she writes of how most Native American tribes do not have a concept for these distinctions between humans and nature, the sacred and the material world. Instead, they understand humans and animals, plants and all of the elements of our universe to be related to and a part of each other. So, for traditional native Americans, to be spiritual, to be a good person, humans must extend good intentions and good behavior toward not just other people but toward creatures, plants and the elements. They call doing this, “to walk in Beauty” and it allows for seeing beauty in all.

Here is a sampling of how she describes walking in beauty, “When Native Americans refer to themselves as spiritual people, they are saying they believe that everything in the universe is imbued with spirit and they embrace, acknowledge, and respect the animating force within/surrounding/beyond all things-including humans. The idea of “the Sacred” held by traditional Indians is all-inclusive, and to be spiritual is to be ‘in communion’ with the Great Mystery.”

I wonder how our world might change for the betters if all people adopted this perspective.

I’ll share a couple of experiences that have helped move me at least a little closer toward it.

The first opened me to this idea that there is no separation between humans and nature and that therefore beauty may be found anywhere.

It was after my grandmother’s funeral. My family had gathered in the home where my grandparents had raised their children and then helped raise many of their grandchildren, including me. My grandfather had died a few years earlier.

Now, I loved my grandparents dearly, but I didn’t love so much the Beaumont-Port Arthur area where they lived and where I grew up. It is flat, swampy, hot, humid and filled with chemical refineries that from time to time fill the air with strange odors and light up the night sky with these giant torch towers where they bum off waste gases.

All of this just did not fit with my concept of beauty.

Later that evening though, I excused myself and walked out into the yard where I had played so often as a child. Lit by the flame of one of those torch towers, the night sky was glowing with an orange-red light much like an amazing sunrise. And suddenly, I found that I could see and experience this odd sort of beauty.

And dwelling in that beauty, I was also finally able to truly feel the loss – the loss over realizing that I would soon never again be connected with this place, this home where I had felt such warmth and safety and love.

The other experience was of that of “being in communion with the Great mystery” of which Carol Lee Sanchez writes. I was walking to a seminary class one cold morning in Chicago. To my left rose tall buildings of stone and glass. To my right, across Michigan Avenue, was a large park area and beyond it was a partially frozen over Lake Michigan. The sidewalk was filled with people. I was meditating as I made my way through the crowd, and I suddenly had this overwhelming sense that I was a part of all of that throng of humanity, as well as the buildings, the side walks, the lake and everything else and that all of it was a part of me. It was such a beautiful, transcendent yet overwhelming feeling, that I had to duck into a doorway for a moment before I could go on.

I truly had been “walking in beauty” – connected to the great mystery.

The challenge is, though, it can be particularly hard to walk in beauty during difficult times. And for many of us, these are proving to be very difficult times. Yet, these may be the very times we need to be able to see beauty the most.

I know that for me personally, it can sometimes be hard to see beauty at all- it feels oppressive when I see my deepest values and principles being threatened like never before by things like:

  • A five year old being detained separate from his family for hours on his birthday and another young child handcuffed.
  • People across the world being prevented from entering the U.S. and detained at our airports even when they have legal visas or are legal permanent residents.
  • A white supremacist at the center of national security decision making.
  • A very small group within the White House systematically dismantling or neutering our institutions that are supposed to serve as checks and balances.
  • The groundwork being laid for what I fear will be even greater human rights abuses.

And the list could go on and on.

And yet, we are also seeing the largest protests in our history, activist groups that had formerly worked in silos joining together and more people engaging in III ore types of political activity and resistance than I can remember seeing in my lifetime.

This all reminds me of what the wonderful liberation theologian, James Cone calls “terrible beauty”. Terrible beauty is when that situation I mentioned earlier happens – truth, reality is difficult or even tragic and so we need beauty to make meaning. For Cone, it is when an oppressed people starkly acknowledge the reality of their hurt and loss and yet refuse to let it define them, claiming their own sense of humanity instead.

I want to let you hear him describe it himself, as he finds it in blues.

VIDEO

(Excerpt from James Cone on The Cross and the Lynching Tree

BILL MOYERS: In all of this, you turn your attention in the course of your long career, to this– to The Spirituals And The Blues, which is my favorite of your books. I mean, it’s not the most theological. But it is I think the most vivid in its description of how music was theology. Tell me about that.

JAMES CONE: Well, I grew up with the spirituals and the blues. I heard the spirituals every Sunday morning in Macedonia AME Church. And that’s where I received the sense that I was somebody. I was a child of God. But the blues was heard on Saturday night. Now, my mother wouldn’t let me go to the place where the blues was played. But you can hear it.

BILL MOYERS: From your house?

JAMES CONE: From my house. Yes. You can hear it in all the community, ’cause there were several juke joints.

JAMES CONE: And that’s where the people played the blues. That– now, the blues was for people who did not receive the same kind of– transcendence that people received on Sunday morning.

BILL MOYERS: What kind of transcendence did they receive?

JAMES CONE: And I– see, on Sunday morning, you could– you could know that your humanity was not defined by what happened to you during the week. Now, on Saturday night is when the blues people found that out.

BILL MOYERS: What’d they find out?

JAMES CONE: They found out that they had a humanity that nobody could take away from them.


My beloveds, I fear we are going to have to find terrible beauty in solidarity with our Muslim human family members; with immigrants; with people of color; with women and their allies who dare to demand equality.

And, yes, I fear that I and my fellow lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer people are going to need our allies to find terrible beauty with us, as attempts get made to legalize discrimination against LGBTQ folks across the country. We are going to need that ironic tenacity that Dr. Cone mentions.

We are going to need each other.

And that’s where one more source of beauty I want to discuss with you comes in. This religious community is a thing of beauty. It is a place that sustains and nourishes so many folks. We have been experiencing high levels of wonderful visitors. Just last week, 28 new members joined the church, some of whom you got to meet earlier.

Friday before last, a terrific group of our church members put together a moving and healing “People’s Inauguration” worship service.

And it’s beautiful that this church is becoming a place of both comfort and challenge toward doing justice for more and more people.

During times like these though, we can easily become very stressed out. No matter what our political persuasion, there is so much coming at us right now. There is such a greater than usual sense of uncertainty in our world.

And when we are stressed out, at the very times when we need one another most, we can behave in ways we normally would not. I know I have found myself having to be careful to take a step back, take three or four deep breaths and check myself from responding to another’s words or actions that I would normally just let go. I have found myself having to take that step back to keep from assigning intentions that might or might not be true.

And all of that’s just with my spouse, Wayne, poor guy.

We need to know that these types of reactions under stress are normal. They are actually neurologically hardwired – our brains kind of shift into a different mode.

The great thing is though, we are capable of interrupting ourselves when this starts happening by recognizing these negative feelings and reactions when they are coming up in us, taking that step back, those four deep breaths. By doing so, we reengage our brain’s more rational mode.

So in this time where so many of us need this, our beautiful, beloved community, let’s try to move even beyond the promises we have made to one another in our covenant of healthy relations. Let’s not only try to interrupt stress-related reactions that may try to come up in us, let’s ask ourselves how we can offer each other more kindness, more humor, more fun, more compassion, more support.

We are in life’s struggle together, and there is much beauty to be found within the struggle itself – with and through each other.

If we walk in beauty together, and we invite more and more people to walk with us and we join in solidarity with more and more other groups of folks also walking in beauty together, I believe we can create something greater than resistance.

I think we can create a revolution that will move hearts and influence minds.

And wouldn’t that be terribly beautiful.


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 16 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.

 

Animal Blessing Service

Rev. Meg Barnhouse
January 29, 2017
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We bring our well-behaved animals to church to bless them and to recognize the blessing they are to our lives.


This is an exercise that you would go through if you were being taught to be an animal trainer. You get to play the dog, and another trainer plays the — well, the trainer. You are in a room together. No words are exchanged. You know there is something the trainer wants you to do. The trainer has something in mind, like he wants you to put your left leg up on a chair. That’s the secret training goal, and you all will work together until you figure it out . How does he get you to do it? He praises you for doing something close to it. You move your left foot, you get some praise. You move toward the chair, you get some praise. You move away from the chair, you are ignored. Nothing. Hmmmm.. What does he want me to do? You have to put it together, what do you get praised for? When you put your leg on the chair, you are praised extravagantly. Who doesn’t care about praise? Well, cats, but there you go. I have more often had cats than dogs, and, while I have loved horses, I have never had one, or a bird. I did a lot of reading this week, and I got fascinated with dogs, so I will probably end up talking more about them. And I need to say that I am no expert on anything about animals.

That training exercise shows some of what it’s like for animals living in inter-species households. They don’t know our language, and, at least at the start, they don’t know what we want, although as those who have less power, they are more aware of our language and our requirements than we are of theirs.

We sometimes act like they communicate the same way we do. We smile at the animal to say hello. I hope they understand that. For animals, baring teeth is a threat. We would be in trouble if we said “look, that cute dog is smiling at me,” when we saw a dog baring its teeth. We feel close to animals, so we attribute to them the same emotions we would have in a certain situation. If a dog comes to you with ears lowered, chin down, you may think they are sad or being pitiful. That is their non-threatening friendly look. Their excited “Hey! Let’s go!” look is easier to read. Scientists who observe animals say they do have emotions. They get excited, humiliated, threatened and confused by some things we donÔt normally think of. Some things we have in common though. We want to be touched, loved, we want food shelter, attention, territory, a purpose, loyalty, belonging, exercise and fun.

Some things that are important to them, we don’t understand. Most animals, in a group, want to know who is in charge. Is it you? Is it someone else in the family? If you aren’t in charge, then they are. That can be what some animals want. It can produce anxiety in others. I had a greyhound living with me for a while, and I took her with me to a start-up weekend for a new ministry in this district. After a few hours with the members of this church, she walked to the center of a circle we were talking in, turned to face the man who was in charge, and bowed deeply. Was he the President of the congregation? No. Was he the new minister? No. Was he talking the most? No. He was simply one of the founding members, and one of those members who, by virtue of who they are and who they have been, are chieftains in the group. She instinctively knew who was the top dog in that group, and she bowed.

This Sunday we are celebrating a Blessing of the Animals. Why would be bless animals? Because they bless us so often. We don’t talk about them very often, but animals as companions have touched almost all of us, and it is good to acknowledge that. . As children we may have fallen asleep with the purring weight of a cat on our chest. Or on our head. We watched TV in the company of the family dog. We went exploring in the woods and our parents would feel safer knowing that the dog was along with us. They comforted us when we cried, they made us laugh, they were a personality in the midst of the family. For most of us, they still do those things. Here is what people say about animal companions: they give unconditional love. They forgive you anything. They think you are the be all and end all of the universe. They are sensitive to your feelings. They don’t care what you look like, what your sexual preference is, what your skin color or your car model or your job is. They just love you because you belong to them.

Animals have been in relationship with humans for thousands of years. Often in a mutually beneficial way. Often hurting one another. Humans were traveling with jackals, helping each other hunt. The dogs hung around the campfires and ate scraps, sounded the alarm for intruders. Enjoyed some protection from the humans, and gave them protection in turn.

In ancient Egypt, they worshipped cats and dogs. By that time, people had dogs as pets. We know because they were buried, sometimes, with their favorite dogs. The god of cats was named Bast. Egypt was the first country we know of that had laws against harming dogs.

In our country we have laws against cruelty to animals, but in animal farming and animal experimentation, we still perpetrate cruelties that are devastating to face. Some among us prefer not to eat any animal meat, others just want to work for lessening unnecessary suffering in the animals that are raised for food. That is not the purview of this sermon, though, as we are talking about animals that act as human companions. Feelings are strong enough about the animals that live in our homes. I do want to get into talking more about animal rights, just not this morning.

Animals as companions can do so much for us. A study published in the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society in May, 1999 demonstrated that older people who have pets tend to have better physical and mental well being than those who don’t. A 1997 study showed that elderly pet owners had significantly lower blood pressure overall than their contemporaries without pets. There is an experimental residential home for the elderly called the Eden Alternative, which is filled with over 100 birds, dogs, and cats and has an outside environment with rabbits and chickens, has experienced a 15 percent lower mortality rate than traditional nursing homes over a span of five years.

Animal Assisted Therapy has been beneficial for kids recovering from abuse or other trauma. There are a few therapeutic homes for kids that use animals to calm agitated kids, to connect with autistic kids, to heal wounded kids. Mending a bird’s wings, caring for sheep and cows, sitting with cats on your lap, relating to dogs, seems to be healing for children. Helping another life through the caring of disabled or unwanted animals teaches nurturing and lets the children see beings who are surviving and relearning trust, just as they must do..

Even for ordinary families in ordinary time, there is a strong psychological and emotional attachment between people and their pets. Studies have revealed that most pet owners view their pets as both improving the quality of family life by lessening tension between family members and waking up their owner’s compassion for living things (Barker, 1993; Pet Theories, 1984; Voith, 1985).Using a projective technique to investigate owners’ closeness to their pet dogs, one study (Barker and Barker (1988, 1990) found that dog owners were as emotionally close to their dogs as to their closest family member. They reported that more than one-third of the dog owners in their study were actually closer to their dogs than to any human family member. I read a book called The Social Lives of Dogs by a classically trained anthropologist who began observing dogs instead of far off tribes. She and her husband had a dog who the husband described as “the keeper of my soul.” He and the dog were inseparable. She asked him idly one day if he had to choose, would it be her on the dog. He was quiet for a moment. “Don’t ask me that,” he answered.

Companionship helps us be healthy and happy. It is part of the art of living.

Economist John Maynard Keynes, saw the purpose of human history as our species learning to “cultivate the arts of life.”

It was in a publication called “Yoga World” that I saw a wonderful description of how to be a good companion. Sometimes an animal can be this to a human, sometimes a human can be this to an animal. Sometimes we can find this with another human. To be a good companion, it says, “You will need to be caring and concerned about his or her happiness. As a friend, you will want to share his or her concerns and labors. Naturally, you will want to make his, her, life more pleasant. You will have to know life and yourself well enough to become trustworthy, capable of keeping your agreements. To be a friend, your word must be true. A true friend, you will hold good will in your heart even when you misunderstand or distrust your gracious companion. You will refuse to indulge bad moods brought on by your inadequacies. It is not easy to be a true friend. ” May we all find a being like this is our lives. May we sometimes be able to be a friend like this ourselves, to another being. Our job here on earth is to learn how to love and be loved. As our animal companions teach us those things, we are grateful to them.

We have our animal blessing at Brigid rather than in October on St. Francis Day. We celebrate our earth-based connections by celebrating in the Spring, in the time when the earth is waking back up from its winter dormancy.

Our theology:: we are all priests and priestesses, and can channel the energy of blessing from the mystery. This is why I invite you to bless your own and one another’s animals. We can ask God to bless our animals or we can bless them just asking the Divine Spark to flow through us and grant our animals blessing We bless by wishing good things for the animals in our families, and by promising them we will love them to the best of our capacity, that we will learn from them, respect them, and that, when it’s time to let them go, we will let them go with honor.

Bless you for depending on me, for trusting me with your well being. Thankn you for all you give me in return. Companionship. Attention, your warm furry body next to me on the sofa, your tail wagging in joy at my return. Your delicious eggs for my breakfast.

You have a safe warm place in my heart and, if you leave this life before I do, I will carry your memory with me. You opened my heart. You taught me compassion and connection.

“We Give Thanks For The Animals”
by Gary Kowalski

We give thanks for the animals
Who live close to nature,
Who remind us of the sanctities of birth and death,
Who do not trouble their lives with foreboding or grief,
Who let go each moment as it passes,
And accept each new one as it comes
With serenity and grace.
Enable us to walk in beauty as they do
At one with the turning seasons,
Welcoming the sunrise and at peace with sunset.
And as we hallow the memory of good friends now departed,
Who loved abundantly and in their time were loved,
Who freely gave us their affection and loyalty,
Let us not be anxious for tomorrow
But ask only that kindness and gratitude fill our hearts,
Day by day, into the passing years.

Blessing for All”
by L. Annie Foerster (adapted)

My furry, feathered and scaled friends, I greet you. You come from the same life force of creation that I do and I greet you as a sister (brother). May your days be filled with love and whatever else you may desire. May your tummy always be full and may you always have a place to rest. May you have many days of love with your human friends. May you play together and work together in gentleness and respect for one another… My furry, feathered and scaled friends, I say farewell. I am happy to have met you. May your life be blessed.


 

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