The Courage to Trust

Jim Checkley

July 8, 2012

According to polls, “trust” is at an all time low within our country. Government, lawyers, the media, politicians, and others are setting all time low marks for trust. They say that when trust is broken in a relationship, it is very difficult to repair and it is usually time to move on. But how do you move on from yourself? Moreover, trust is not just an external phenomenon; it is in fact important to our own inner well being, and somewhat like forgiveness, often says more about us than about them. Checkley first attended the Church in 1977 and has been conducting services since 1987. He looks forward to taking the pulpit for the 28th time.

 


Sermon: The Courage to Trust

Author’s note: I have revised this from the talk given at the Church. The big change is to the discussion of meetings by avatar, which were prompted by a post-service discussion with an IBM employee. The vast majority of the rest are the usual changes to go from an oral presentation to a written document, including details and back-up not included in the sermon as delivered.

There is an old joke that goes: What’s the opposite of progress? The answer? Congress.

Congress has been the butt of jokes for years, but last October, trust in Congress to do the right thing fell to an all-time low. Only 9 percent of respondents to a New York Times poll said they “approved” of how Congress was conducting its business. And, American’s trust in their government overall reached a new low – even below Watergate levels – with just 10 percent of those polled believing government will do what is right “all” or “most of the time.”

This isn’t much of a surprise is it? What may be somewhat more surprising is the fact that Congress and the government have plenty of company. According to the polls, the trust Americans have in just about everything is at an all-time low.

In late June of this year, a Gallup poll showed that trust in the public education system had fallen again, with only 29 percent of respondents having “a great deal of confidence” in education. This is down from 58 percent in 1958, when Gallup first began conducting the poll. Banks have been hit hard, down 24 percentage points since 2002 to where only 22 percent of respondents in a 2011 Gallup poll said they had confidence in the banking system. And of some interest to us today, trust in organized religious institutions, despite the United States being one of the most religious countries on the planet, is also at an all-time low. Even trust in the future is at an all-time low, with a majority of Americans believing for the first time in recorded history that the next generation will not be as well off as they are.

To give you some more flavor of how pervasive lack of trust is in America, let me provide you just a few more numbers. These percentages represent the people who in a 2010 Harris Poll said they had a high level of confidence in the institution in question: TV news at 17 percent, major corporations at 15 percent, the press at 13 percent, law firms at 13 percent, and Wall Street dead last at 8 percent.

And by all-time low, I really mean it. Here’s some interesting context for these numbers: according to the Associated Press, 34 percent of Americans believe in ghosts, which is higher than any of the numbers I quoted above. This means that more Americans think that their homes could be haunted than believe that they will get a fair shake at their banks, that major corporations will do the right thing, or that the press tells the truth.

So are there any institutions that are doing well? A couple. In the referenced 2010 Harris Poll, people gave only two institutions ratings at or over 50 percent in terms of having great confidence that they would do the right thing. What were they? The military at 59 percent and small business at exactly 50 percent. The next highest was colleges and universities at only 35 percent. And among the professions, we still trust health workers like doctors and nurses, although the numbers have fallen, while firefighters, teachers, and pharmacists round out the top four.

There’s one point of special interest to me given my background in science. And that is the fact that trust in science is also at an all-time low. That is, the number of conservatives who say they have a “great deal” of trust in science has fallen to 35 percent, down 28 points from the mid-1970s, according to a recent academic paper by Gordon Gauchet published in the American Sociological Review. According to the paper, the trust that “moderates” and “liberals” have in science has remained steady since the 70s, while that of conservatives has plummeted.

Bear with me, because I want to talk about this just a little bit. What’s disturbing about this is that we are not talking about uneducated conservatives. Nope. We are talking about educated conservatives, those with college degrees and graduate degrees. According to Gauchet, conservatives with college degrees decreased in trust faster over the time period studied than those with only a high school diploma. He finds this result profound because, “it implies that conservative discontent with science was not attributed to the uneducated, but to rising distrust among educated conservatives.”

But this fact is itself quite disturbing to me because it implies that this lack of trust is political and ideological and has little to do with science itself having been shown to be untrustworthy, even considering the politicization of global climate change. Gauchet says: “It kind of began with the loss of Barry Goldwater and the construction of Fox News and all these [conservative] think tanks. The perception among conservatives is that they’re at a disadvantage, a minority. It’s not surprising that the conservative subculture would challenge what’s viewed as the dominant knowledge production groups in society-science and the media.”

I would suggest to you that this polarization between the right and the left has in fact impacted every single aspect of America and the people’s trust in government, institutions, communities, and even themselves. Take, for example, the recent Supreme Court decision on health care. You would think that of all the institutions of government, the Supreme Court would be viewed as providing an objective decision based on law. But as the prognostication over health care and other important cases has shown, that is not the case. We see the Court as ideologically split and when Chief Justice Roberts upheld the health care law under the tax and spend authority, conservatives felt betrayed and liberals were stunned. The way Fox News reported it, you’d think that Roberts had just sold the country down the river-and I suppose that’s how conservatives felt. But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. We are so used to an ideological, if not cynical, view of the Court that we can’t remember well the days when there was at least an outwardly expressed belief that the Court would do what was right under the Constitution.

Now, I’m sure that a lot of this isn’t news to you. You live it every day just as I do. So you may be thinking, “Yes, Jim, things are bad. We know that. People can’t be trusted, institutions can’t be trusted, government can’t be trusted, seems like nothing can be trusted. What’s a person supposed to do?” My answer to you today is as simple as it is difficult: Trust anyway. That’s the lesson I want to bring to you today. Yes, it’s bad out there and we have been betrayed at every level, but it is important, imperative even, that we regain our sense of trust.

I know. Sometimes it is silly to trust. That’s one of the lessons of the Scorpion and the Frog. Sometimes it is silly, dangerous, and foolish to trust. And I get that and I’m not suggesting that we act foolishly. There is, however, a big difference in having an attitude of trust and being a dimwit and trusting when trust is a silly thing to do.

You know, the thing about the Scorpion and the Frog is that the lesson is that scorpions, and by extension, people, cannot help themselves, even if it means their death. Scorpions sting. And people, well, people betray our trust. We have plenty of examples of that right? Think of all the politicians who ruined their careers having affairs. I’m not going to name them, you know who they are. In fact, history is riddled with men and women who just couldn’t help themselves and in the process hurt others and ultimately ruined themselves and their careers.

But from a religious point of view, the story of the Scorpion and the Frog goes even further. Catholics and Fundamentalists believe in the doctrine of Original Sin. Original Sin says that all humans are born sinners, corrupted, as it were, by the sin of Adam and Eve, and from the moment of birth until death are nothing but sin machines. I found a wonderful expression of this belief online, where a fundamentalist minister claimed: “Have you ever heard about busy people who ‘hit the ground running’? In the delivery room we hit the obstetrician’s catcher’s mitt sinning. We’re born as sinners.”

But we don’t believe this, do we, we Unitarian Universalists? Do we believe that people are born sinners, corrupted by Original Sin? I don’t think so. We may be a creedless church, but we do have the Seven Principles, and I don’t think that believing that all people hit the obstetrician’s catcher’s mitt sinning is consistent with them. In fact, such a belief is wholly inconsistent with the very first principle: that we avow the inherent worth and dignity of every person. This seems to put us on the opposite end from the Catholics and the Fundamentalists, who believe that all babies are born corrupted. Not much inherent worth and dignity there.

Even so, we UUs are not naive and recognize that people will betray trust, behave badly, and even commit atrocious acts. But our first principle, our opening position, is to affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Said another way, we begin with an attitude of trust, and go from there. This reminds me that I want to say a few words about the saying that I put on the cover of the order of service: “In God we trust, all others pay cash.” You’ve heard it before, right? In Islam there is a similar saying: “Trust in Allah, but tie up your camel.” I kind of like that one. Even had it made into a t-shirt back in the 70s. And the sentiment expressed by these sayings reminds me of Ronald Regan famously saying about a nuclear disarmament treaty with the Soviet Union: “Trust, but verify.”

These sayings all make sense to us on a gut level. But, are they really talking about trusting? Where is the trust if you are going to verify anyway? Might as well just say: “We’ll agree, but only if we can verify because we don’t trust you.” And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think God is going to be ordering coffee and donuts any time soon, so the expression really reduces to: “Pay up now, because we actually don’t trust you to pay later.” And finally, I can’t claim to know much about camels, but I suspect that they, like horses, don’t stay put unless they are hitched to a rail. So the expression should be, “Tie up your camel, because if it runs away, it’s your fault, not Allah’s, who doesn’t seem to care what happens to anybody’s camel.”

Now, I’m making light of this, but there is a very profound question here. That question is: can we trust, I mean truly trust, in a world where we know the only things we can trust 100 percent of the time are death, taxes, and, at least since 1908, the Chicago Cubs not winning the World Series? I’ve made a little joke here, but this is actually a very profound question because in an uncertain world, it turns out that trust is essential for all human relationships to work well and for us to be happy. And I’d say that makes trust pretty important. I want to be very clear what I am talking about. There are two kinds of trust that I am talking about. First, there is the common, ordinary trust, which I will call transactional or relational trust. This is where you say, “I’ll be back at seven tonight to pick you up” and lo and behold, there you are at seven that evening. This kind of trust is founded on reciprocity, fairness, and mutual respect and affection. John Gottman, perhaps the most famous marriage counselor in this country, says that we trust in this sense when we believe that the person we trust has our best interest at heart, or, said another way, has our backs and will act accordingly. This then, is the ordinary trust in human relations, and it extends to trusting that institutions, from this church to the government to the banks to the media, all have our backs and will do right by us.

This kind of transactional or relational trust is precious and hard to come by. It’s what we Americans lack in relation to our institutions and leaders, but it also seems to be increasingly lacking in personal relationships. I may be out there on this, but here’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately: people don’t seem to be getting together to do things like they used to. Everybody wants to do his or her own thing and has a personal music player, personal smart phone, and even when they hang out together, they are alone with their music and their social media. Am I the only one bothered by the proliferation of screens and people’s obsession with them? Is it really the case that having 500 friends on Facebook means you have 500 friends? I believe you can’t know if somebody is truly your friend until he or she has inconvenienced himself or herself for you. Are all those Facebook friends ready to inconvenience themselves for you? And how would you know?

And here’s something for you in the hanging out and getting to know people department. Did you know that IBM at one time conducted meetings by avatar and that in 2009 that company rolled out a service called Virtual Collaboration for Lotus Sametime, where users set up and use virtual meeting spaces? It’s true. People who attend the meeting manipulate a two dimensional version of themselves on the screen and shake hands, sit around a table, and talk to each other through the cartoon image. I saw a report on PBS that said that IBM found that when people meet this way, their affinity for each other goes up and they are more cooperative and get more done. In fact, in commenting on the release of Virtual Collaboration, the Information Officer at Northcentral Technical College in Wisconsin was quoted as saying: “College students love to learn and meet in virtual worlds.” So I guess in the not too distant future many of us will be saying, “I may not trust John, since I never met him, but I really like his avatar.” Welcome to the brave new (virtual) world.

And transactional or relational trust, of course, is a two way street. This kind of trust is a reciprocal phenomenon that requires that we ourselves be trustworthy. And how do we become trustworthy? For starters, be honest. Keep your word. Researchers say that by doing the little things right and well, we create an aura of trust.

Keep confidences. Share personal information. If we divulge something of ourselves, we appear to be more trustworthy than when we hold things close to the vest. Of course, discretion is important here-don’t want to scare anybody off.

Do things that are in the best interest of the other person. That is the very definition of trust. Spend time together. In this era of texting and Facebook, nothing beats actually being together, except at IBM, I suppose. Finally, be real. Apologize when you make a mistake. We are all human and will all make mistakes. How we handle our mistakes is important. For example, studies show that doctors who apologize to their patients when they goof up are far less likely to be sued. And remember, most people want to trust. We just have to give them good reasons.

But there is a second kind of trust I want to talk about that is not reciprocal or transactional. This kind of trust is more of a spiritual or innate attitude about life and the world. It’s the trust that comes from an inner strength that provides us with confidence that however the world turns out this day, we will deal with it and be OK. You could call it faith, but I like to think of it more as a trust-a trust that the world is a knowable, understandable place, that I am an integral part of it, just like our UU principles declare, and that each one of us has the ability to create a quality environment for ourselves and others. It’s the ability to approach life with a trusting attitude, one that, like our first principle, allows us to view the world, our institutions, and each other with an opening position of trust that we can change the things we can control and have the wherewithal and ability to deal with those we cannot. I’m not saying it’s easy. But I am saying it is important.

But before I talk about that, I want to suggest that things are not as bad as we may imagine. With our 24/7 cable news outlets trying their best to outdo each other, every single bad thing that happens is burned into our consciousness with laser-like power. You’ve heard the expression, “no news is good news?” Well, I think the media act on the presumption that “good news is no news.” And why not? We seem to be drawn to tragedy, heartache, and loss like the proverbial moth to the flame. So in thinking about having and maintaining an attitude of trust, it is important to consider the media blitz of negative news and take it with a grain of salt.

Having an attitude of trust is important because trust is an essential element of life. Study after study tells us that without trust things break down, whether it’s at a cosmic level, a government level, an institutional level, or a personal level. Here’s your bumper sticker moment: Trust is the lubricant of human interactions. Trust helps us navigate the world in a way that minimizes stress, fear, and worry. When trust is absent, we are under stress, we become first vigilant and then hypervigilant about betrayal, real and imagined, we build walls both figurative and actual, we require confirmation of everything, verification of everything. It gets difficult to do business. It gets difficult to coordinate activities that require cooperation and planning and execution over an extended period of time. Sometimes it gets to be impossible to get anything done. Sounds like Congress, right?

And when we get to that point, when trust is truly ruined, psychologists will tell us that some relationships just can’t be saved. It’s sort of like trying to unburn a burnt pie. It can’t be done. Just have to throw it away and start over. I confess I feel like this with respect to our politics: that it’s broken beyond repair. And there are some studies that would support this conclusion. But then again, what choice do we have but to go forward and try to reconcile enough to at least get along?

Trust is also important because there is powerful evidence that having a trusting attitude leads to happiness. I quoted at the beginning of the service from the book The Geography of Bliss, in which the author explains the connection he found between trust and happiness. That connection is, in a nutshell, that the people who had the most trusting attitude about the world, institutions, and each other, were the happiest people. This makes sense to me given how negative life can be if we have little or no trust in it or ourselves. This also is consistent with studies about happiness in Europe. We Americans might think that the people who live along the Mediterranean would have the greatest overall level of happiness. But this isn’t the case. It turns out that the Danes, the Norwegians, the Swiss, and the Swedes, were the happiest, despite living mostly in the cold and the dark. And not coincidentally, these people also had the strongest attitude of trust.

One more example: a Canadian researcher who looked at the connection between trust at the office and happiness found that just moving up one point on a 10-point scale of trust in the management of the business has the life satisfaction equivalence of something like a one-third increase in income. A little bit of trust equaled a lot of money. Trust and happiness. They go together.

Finally, having a trusting attitude is good for our souls. By this I mean that having a trusting attitude inures to our spiritual benefit much more than it matters to those who we trust. In this respect, I see bringing a trusting attitude to life and its components, be they institutions or people, a little like I see forgiveness. When we forgive, we really need to do it for ourselves, not the other person. Forgiveness takes a load off of our hearts and souls, and lets us be free of the negativity and stress and anger and pain that go with carrying a grudge and being hateful and unforgiving. The act of trusting works in much the same manner. Trusting, even if the face of betrayal, allows us to heal, gets rid of the stress and negativity, and provides a positive psychological environment. Trusting allows us to view the world through lightly tinted rose colored glasses, as it were, and provides a faith in the unfolding of events and our lives that lets us approach life with a better attitude and a better opportunity for happiness.

Again I will emphasize that I am not saying we should act foolishly or naively-far from it. We need to be sensible and take precautions and enter into our transactional and relational trusts deliberately and with eyes wide open. But the courage to trust from a spiritual or innate point of view is more of a perspective, a way we choose to look at the world as we live our lives. For you see, courage is not about ignoring reality or denying anxiety. It is instead the will to act in spite of reality and anxiety.

The courage to trust is choosing to empower yourself and your choices rather than sinking into cynicism and negativity. And here is my last tidbit of the day for you: psychologists tell us that the marriages and friendships and relationships that last the longest and are the happiest are those where the participants view each other through lightly tinted rose colored glasses. As it is with love and friendship, so I suggest it is with life in all its myriad aspects.

Let me conclude by saying this: There are reasons why trust is at an all-time low in virtually every aspect of life we can think of. It would be easy to decide not to trust and instead protect oneself with emotional, psychological, and real walls. But if we want to make things better, both for ourselves and others, then don’t we have to take the first step and even in the face of betrayal, cultivate an attitude of trust? Somebody has to make the first move, and if we want others to trust us, shouldn’t we develop and project an attitude of trust ourselves? That will take courage and will mean being strong inside. It will also mean having the faith and confidence that come what may, be it betrayal or hardship or natural disaster, we can deal with it. And amazingly enough, all evidence says that if we can do this, the payoff for each of us will be a happier more satisfying life.

And trust me, I can live with that.

Presented July 8, 2012 First UU Church Austin, Texas Revised for Print

Copyright 2012 by Jim Checkley


 

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What Defines Greatness?

Jim Checkley

February 22, 2009

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button.

Is a Bold Hamster “Great” or Just What is “Greatness”?

Sometimes things just work out. Take this sermon, for instance. When I was asked to do this service, I quickly decided to talk about a topic that I have been fascinated with for a long time: what does it mean to be great? I was on the phone with Sally Scott and she asked me if I could do this date or that date, and we settled on February 22nd. I thought nothing special about it at the time.

However, forty-five years ago I would have instantly made the connection between February 22nd and George Washington’s birthday, because his birthday was a school holiday. In fact, back in those days we also got February 12th off from school because it was Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. Of course, as it turns out, Charles Darwin’s birthday is also February 12th, and the same year as Lincoln. But while they named a city after Darwin in Australia, there’s no way in America – except maybe for a few isolated Royal Blue areas – that we’d get Darwin’s birthday off from school.

We just marked the 200th anniversary of both Lincoln’s and Darwin’s birthdays. Washington would have been 277 today – a number of no special significance since it doesn’t have any “zeros” in it. Nonetheless, there is an interesting mathematical fact about Washington’s birth year of 1732. Put a decimal after the “1” and you have the square root of three – 1.732. Really. See, you never know what you are going to learn at a Unitarian church. I don’t know if this numeric coincidence portended greatness for Washington – perhaps a numerologist could tell us – but he certainly demonstrated greatness during his lifetime. As did both Darwin and Lincoln.

Like I said, sometimes things just work out.

The word great, like the words love and God, is subject to many meanings and often fierce debate. I’m beginning to believe I am an intellectual masochist because I keep picking sermon topics that are impossible to fully discuss in a 20 – okay 25 – minute sermon. So let’s narrow our theme today. When I’m talking about greatness, I do not in any way mean famous. Famous and greatness are two totally different concepts and the cult of celebrity often worships people who are decidedly not very great, but whom we hoist onto pedestals made of fluff, and which are either unsteady and fragile or else we – and I mean American society – are shallow and fickle. But really, what are the odds of that being true about America?

And I don’t have the time to explore the really wonderful topic of the “greatness” of villains, for example Lord Voldemort, who J. K Rowling tells us over and over in her Harry Potter books, has done great things – terrible to be sure – but great nonetheless. So for purposes of my sermon, I assume that we would all agree that Lord Voldemort – and the real characters of history like him – do not deserve to be judged as having greatness. And based on her many interviews and pod casts, I think J. K. herself would approve.

Instead, I am going to use William Shakespeare’s famous quote about greatness from his play Twelfth Night as a template to discuss what it means to be great and how we judge greatness. And although there are many who could serve as examples, including many women, African-Americans, and others, because the powers that be handed it to me on a silver platter, I am going to be a bit of a Taoist and go with the flow by talking about each element of Shakespeare’s quote using Washington, Darwin, and Lincoln as examples.

In Twelfth Night the comedic plot begins when Malvolio, Countess Olivia’s priggish steward, comes upon a letter that the merrymakers in the play have left for him to find. The letter is a fake anonymous love letter that Malvolio believes is from Olivia. The writer of the letter suggests that Malvolio can become “great” by doing certain things, each of which is more absurd than the last. Never questioning the authenticity or the origin of the letter, Malvolio proceeds to carry out the ridiculous tasks, until Olivia thinks her steward has gone mad and has him locked up.

Contained in the letter, which Malvolio reads aloud, is the famous quote about greatness: “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” Although Malvolio says these lines, he is reading from the letter, and audiences both then and now immediately recognize that the term “greatness” has very little to do with Malvolio, who is ambitious, pretentious, and has an ego that far outstrips his qualities as a person. He is blinded by pride, and is a ripe target for the prank being played upon him. He is so out of it that he cannot see just how far from reality his own self-musings have taken him.

I suppose that the ability to recognize one’s own folly is a necessary antecedent to being great. Which would lead one to conclude that people who think they are great very often are not. We have all known a super-confident person of whom we cannot understand where that confidence came from. Humility seems to be one of the hallmarks of greatness, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I’d like to take a look at each of the elements of Shakespeare’s quote and see what we can glean from them.

The first part of the quote asserts that “some are born great.” This is one of the ultimate nature over nurture claims. The implication is that there are certain inherent qualities to being great and that they are manifest in the person from birth. But is it true? If we were in any mainstream Christian church today, the overwhelming answer would be yes, for there can be no better example in Western culture of someone who is believed to be born great than Jesus of Nazareth. When you are born god incarnate, that would seem to coincide with the notion of born greatness. I suppose that would apply to some other religious figures from other religious traditions as well.

But what about everybody else. Are any of them – us – born great? Well, the answer, of course, depends on what we mean by “great”, but overall, I tend to think the answer is a qualified yes. I tend to think that some people are simply born with certain talents, attributes, personality styles, et cetera, that put them ahead of the curve, so to speak, when it comes to doing great things and eventually, being thought of as having attained greatness. Of course, simply having those talents, attributes, personality styles, et cetera, is not a guarantee that they will be translated into greatness. In fact, like so many things, there are probably tons of false positives out there; that is, people who were born with the qualities, but never lived up to them, or worse, betrayed them in a hurtful or harmful way.

And in the category of things working out, I would suggest that if we are going to agree with Shakespeare that some are born great, then George Washington is one of those of whom we might say he was born great. I don’t intend to go into any history lessons here, so you can all relax. But listen to this. In an essay called “The Greatness of Washington,” Christopher Flannery says: “What Shakespeare is to poetry, Mozart to music, or Babe Ruth to baseball, George Washington is to life itself.” Now that is quite saying something. Flannery continues: “This is by no means to say that [Washington] was flawless any more than Babe Ruth was a perfect baseball player or Mozart a perfect musician. It is merely to say that, if he had not lived, such greatness could hardly have been believed possible.” Here we have the description of a man who was born to greatness and who, through his actions, character, and decisions, upheld his end of the bargain. And consider the words of Thomas Jefferson from today’s reading. Now, you’re supposed to say nice things at somebody’s funeral, but what Jefferson has to say is itself extraordinary and his reference to “nature and fortune” points to somebody who was born for greatness. But for me the coup de grace on the issue is the story of Washington and the cherry tree.

Mason Locke Weems wrote a biography of Washington shortly after Washington died and recounted the tale that as a lad, Washington got a new hatchet, and proceeded to test it by chopping down a cherry tree. When Washington’s father saw the tree, he asked George if he knew anything about it. George is reputed to have said: “I cannot tell a lie, Pa; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.”

Now in recent decades, there has been much ado about humanizing Washington, indeed, all the founders of our country, and in so doing, demythologizing both the men and their accomplishments. And in this regard, it is pretty clear that the truth of the cherry tree tale lies somewhere between Santa Clause and the Lock Ness Monster. And although Washington gave all the credit to his mother, the point is that Weems was trying to tell everybody that Washington was an extraordinary man, whose greatness was manifest when he was a boy, and thus is an example for us of one who was born great – not perfect – but great. And at that level, it doesn’t matter if the story is true or not.

The next part of Shakespeare’s quote is that “some achieve greatness.” The achievement of greatness suggests hard work, dedication, and the accomplishment of something that is unexpected, or at least something that was not evident or obvious in the person. And I think the unexpected part is important because it means going beyond who we (or others) think we are and making choices that expand rather than contract our embrace of the world at every level and in a good way. Let me explain.

We human beings use the power of flight as a metaphor for freedom. But when a bird flies, it is doing something that is as natural to it as walking is to us. We can marvel at the grace, speed, and power of a bird in flight, but we would never say that a bird has attained greatness simply because it can fly. It is expected that a bird can fly. I feel the same way about people and their abilities.

If you are six-foot-ten and can dunk, does that make you great? I don’t think so. You have great physical prowess and we will admire you for it, perhaps, but I would never say that you had achieved greatness just because you could dunk. Similarly, we admire and perhaps envy really intelligent people because of their brain power. But are those people great just because they can figure out Sudoku with relative ease. Again I say no. And I suggest the same thing even applies to the gods we worship. Simply because a god is powerful and can kill us, or in the case of Yahweh, destroy towns or even the whole world, I don’t think that god is automatically great. Powerful, yes. Scary, yes. But partaking of greatness? I don’t think so. At least not because of this.

Truth is, there is an important difference between something being great and something having a quality of greatness. I had been thinking for some time about this and it finally hit me: great is measured; greatness is judged or bestowed. I’ll say that again: great is measured; greatness is judged or bestowed. This may be obvious to some of you, but it was an interesting revelation to me. The Great Wall of China is great because it is huge and they say it can even been seen from space. But the greatness of the Chinese people who built that wall and their culture, now that is something that must be judged and ultimately bestowed. Barry Bonds’ record of 762 home runs is great; whether we would say that Bonds himself embodies greatness in the world of baseball is something that is being debated and will be decided by the judgment of history.

Which takes me full circle: achieving greatness means doing something worthy and that is unexpected of you, because if it was expected, it might be great in some measurable way, like a falcon that can dive at 278 miles per hour, but greatness, true greatness takes something more, something beyond what is expected, something that encompasses more than just ourselves, and something that others deem to be admirable, good, helpful, and perhaps even amazing.

With this in mind, I’d like to take just a minute to talk about Charles Darwin. Darwin was a reclusive man who spent almost his entire lifetime coming up with his theory of evolution by natural selection. His great-great-grandson, Chris Darwin, lives in Australia and was quoted in last Saturday’s edition of The Age as saying that “[Charles] never did an honest day’s work in his life.” What did he do? An almost preacher, Darwin spent all his time observing and collecting beetles and other critters and thinking about the origins of life on Earth. He spent many years ruminating about his already formed theory of evolution through natural selection, and it was only when he learned that somebody else – Alfred Russel Wallace – had come to the same conclusions that he published his Origin of Species.

Darwin was not the first to say that life had evolved. His own grandfather had come to that conclusion. Nor was he the first to claim to know the mechanism for speciation. Lamarck had put forward a theory of how one species morphed into another, famously stating that the giraffe evolved its long neck by stretching for leaves up in the trees, and then passing on the gain; but he got it wrong. Darwin, however, got both evolution and its mechanism right.

These were huge ideas that encompassed the entirety of life on Earth. And Darwin published and stood behind them at a time when doing so went against the great weight of society and culture – like so many who we call great, he courageously broke the mold. As Chris Darwin says, “Every age suppresses the unthinkable; Darwin expressed it.” And it is something Darwin was vilified for then and continues to be vilified for by some today. And it is for these reasons, and the fact that his theories, as they have been developed over the last century and a half, form the very foundation of modern biology, that he achieved the greatness that has been bestowed upon him.

The last part of Shakespeare’s quote is: “some have greatness thrust upon them.” And here I guess, I would have to quarrel a little bit with Shakespeare, although in matters of English usage, that’s probably a dangerous thing. While not as poetic, I would rather the quote had said “some have the opportunity for greatness thrust upon them.” Because I don’t think greatness can be thrust upon anybody. It is something that is earned – even if one is otherwise born for greatness – and not something that can be thrust upon one for the obvious reason that the thrust could just as easily cause the person to fail. What’s really going on here is that some are placed by fate, chance, destiny, or choice, in a position where the circumstances are so extraordinary, that if the person can handle them, can successfully weather the storm, and perhaps even achieve great things, then that person will be judged to be great.

Having greatness thrust upon one can, of course, be applied to Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln ascended to the presidency after the ruinous Buchanan administration, and at the onset of the Civil War. He was literally thrust into a position of power just as the country was violently breaking apart and for four years had the weight of the fate of the nation on his shoulders. He issued the Emancipation Proclamation and is credited with ending slavery and saving the Union.

In a recent poll of historians conducted by C-SPAN, Lincoln just topped Washington as the best president of the United States, while Buchanan was dead last and is, in every respect, somebody who the world tried its best to thrust greatness upon, but who failed miserably. In many ways it is no accident that Buchanan, the worst president, and Lincoln, voted the best, came back-to-back during the tumultuous years heading up to and including the Civil War.

Well, that takes care of Shakespeare’s quote – or does it? Because you may recall that the full quote starts out: “Be not afraid of greatness.” What are we to make of this? In my last few minutes I want to talk about this part of the quote because I think, frankly, it is the most important part of all.

The first question to ask is why would anybody be afraid of greatness? I mean, you’d think that being great would be, well, great. But, I think the answer is pretty obvious, actually. Consider the men and women whom you think have attained greatness, however measured and by whatever means. I would bet that the person lived large, with courage, took risks, assumed great responsibility beyond him or herself, and was original in thought and deed to the point of breaking the mold of society and culture. In all events, I would bet, they went beyond what was expected of them and reached out beyond themselves to impact the world for the better. Finally, I’d bet that many of them, at least, exhibited one more characteristic – a willingness to leave the pack behind, to take the lonely path, and often to create something for others, something that they themselves did not or could not share in but which they protected for the benefit of others – people we often call heroes.

And here, finally, is where we get to talk about hamsters. I’ll bet you were wondering about that. Being a bold hamster takes courage, you see, because while there may be food just around the corner, there could also be a snake or a large bird. And if I were a hamster, it would be difficult to be bold, difficult to take those steps or take those positions or take those stands that place one at risk, especially on behalf of others or an important idea. But that’s what great people do. That’s what makes them great. Now people aren’t hamsters, but I think the point of the analogy holds. And so we might ask ourselves, are we like the bold hamster, venturing forth despite the risk, or are we somebody who Shakespeare was talking to, somebody who holds back because of the fear that we are going to be the bold hamster who is soon lunch?

These are among the most serious issues we face in how we live our lives, despite my somewhat tongue-in-cheek analogy. Let’s face it: it is not likely that any of us are going to attain the greatness of the historical figures I talked about – or could have talked about – today. But so what? I believe there is a bit of bold hamster in all of us, enough at least that we can see the path. But I suspect most of us anyway also have a bit of that fear of greatness, of taking the next step along that very path that might lead to greatness – the greatness each of us is capable of achieving.

Part of the purpose of this church and our religion is to help us to grow beyond our comfort zones, to embrace more than what is in our little world, and to think seriously about the gods whom we serve and how well we serve them. I think we can all walk the path of greatness because we can all do something that is unexpected of us, that breaks our own mold, if not that of culture and society, is larger than we are, and reaches beyond ourselves to impact the world for the better.

And if that’s true, then how do we know if we are on the right track? I offer two observations. The first is pretty simple. One measure of how big we are on the inside is just how far and how large our embrace is on the outside. The larger the scope of our embrace outside – be it family, community, country, or cosmos – then the bigger we are on the inside and the higher the likelihood of greatness. But always remember, greatness is not something that we ourselves decide. Greatness is judged and bestowed by others. So here is the second test.

In the Wizard of Oz, after gifting the Tin Woodsman with a new heart, the wizard cautions him by saying: “And remember, my sentimental friend, that a heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.” It’s the same with greatness, for greatness, like the heart, is not measured by the great things you have done, but by how much honest admiration and respect you are afforded by others, especially those who know you or who you have touched.

Martin Luther – the guy who started the Protestant Reformation – thought that the Epistle of James did not belong in the Bible because James teaches that “faith without works is dead,” whereas Luther believed that it is only by grace that people are saved by God. I’m on James’ side on this one. We are all given gifts by nature, we all have our dreams, our passions and our hopes for our lives and for the lives of our children, family, friends and others. Without action, without works, those gifts are wasted and our dreams and hopes nothing more than electrical impulses in our brains that will one day be silent and lost as a grain of sand upon an endless beach.

Let our greatness be to live fully and fearlessly, to use our gifts in the service of our best and most illuminating gods, and to embrace as much of life outside ourselves as we can, and like Lamarck’s famous giraffe, stretch our reach to encompass ever more, until we surprise even ourselves. And then let them judge how we have lived – those who have known us and those who we have touched – and they will nod a knowing nod and smile a knowing smile for greatness.


Presented February 22, 2009

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Revised for Print

Copyright 2009 by Jim Checkley.

And just because I know you’re dying to know, George W. Bush was 36th, or sixth from the bottom, just edging out Millard Fillmore and a touch behind John Tyler.

The Sometimes Strange Science of Us – Jim Checkley

© Jim Checkley

 January 27, 2008

 First UU Church of Austin

 4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

 www.austinuu.org

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button.

Imagine it is 2,500 years ago and you are a Greek with a question. This question has been bothering you for quite some time and you just can’t figure it out. So one day you decide to consult the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi, one of the ancient world’s most intriguing and unusual establishments. For there at the ancient temple located beneath the shining rocks of Mount Parnassus, the God Apollo spoke through a Pythia, or human priestess, and offered inspiration and guidance to all who came.

Legends tell that Delphi and its environs had long been considered to have mystical powers. A few years ago I went to Australia for my 50th birthday and actually turned 50 while visiting Uluru, formerly know as Ayers Rock, the largest monolith in the world. I was nervous about going out into the middle of the desert to a giant sandstone monolith for such an auspicious occasion – ironically, I had always thought I’d go to Greece and turn 50 at the Parthenon but I’ve got to tell you, Uluru has a magic to it that has to be experienced and cannot be described. If Delphi was like Uluru, then I understand exactly why the ancient Greeks put an oracle there and why they thought the very land held special power.

When you arrive at Delphi, you approach the entrance to the temple and notice something carved into the wall, something that has come down to us as the best known of all the Delphic injunctions: in Greek it reads: GNOTHI SEAUTON, which we translate as “know thyself.” Some sources say that “know thyself” is the answer the Oracle gave to Chilon of Sparta who asked: “What is best for man?” It is, interestingly enough, the same advice that the Oracle in the 1999 movie The Matrix gave to Neo, only in the movie the phrase was written in Latin over the entrance to the Oracle’s kitchen. Times change, but the questions (and some of the answers), do not.

Now it seems self-evident that knowing yourself would be a good thing. But just what does it mean to “know thyself”? It is a question as old at the Delphic Oracle itself. Socrates said that it meant that “The unexamined life is not worth living,” that it was important on a daily basis to look inward to discover the true nature of our beings and to consciously make decisions about our lives and our dreams. In The Matrix, know thyself meant to know the essence of your inherent nature, which for Neo meant to know, the way we know we are in love, with every fiber of our beings, that he was the One, the savior of mankind. And when asked what he thought of the injunction “know thyself”, St. Augustine replied, “I suppose it is that the mind should reflect upon itself.”

Nowadays we call such self-reflection “metacognition,” the ability to think about your thoughts, to engage in self reflection, to introspect. This ability was for centuries thought the sole province of human beings, but animal research has challenged that old prejudice’some animals seem to have the ability to reflect upon their internal mental states, if only at a rudimentary level. That aside, while I think that knowing yourself certainly includes self-reflection, I think it is more than that. For modern science has shown us quite dramatically that we are more than just our conscious selves, and knowing oneself, truly knowing oneself, would include understanding all the layers of our beings, conscious, subconscious, and unconscious.

So let me suggest that simple – or even complex self reflection will not get you where you want to go. One thing that has become clear over the years is that we humans are not monolithic beings – we are not simply a conscious being that makes fully informed choices about life. We want to think we are, and we certainly behave as if we are, but modern research on the sometimes surprising science of us has revealed that often, our control is an illusion, and that there is something very powerful and very deep going on that we don’t even know about at a conscious level.

Research shows that our subconscious and unconscious selves play a big role in who we are, how we feel, and what we do. More fundamentally, new studies reveal a subconscious brain that is far more active, purposeful, and independent than previously thought. Generalized goals, like eating, mating, traveling, and the like, appear to be instigated by neural software programs that can be run by the subconscious whenever it, and not we, chooses.

Let me give you a couple of examples:

In a recent experiment, psychologists at Yale were able to alter people’s judgments of a stranger by handing those people a cup of coffee. It’s true. What happened was this: the subject of the experiment was handed either a hot cup of coffee or an iced latte in a social setting. Afterwards, the people who held the iced latte rated a hypothetical person they read about as being much colder, less social, and more selfish than did the students who held the hot coffee. As improbable and strange as this seems, this result is consistent with others that have poured forth over the last few years. For example, new studies show that people are more tidy if there is a tang of cleaning liquid in the air, and they are more prone to be highly competitive in their negotiations with one another if there is a leather briefcase at the end of a long table rather than an old, worn backpack, in which case they are more laid back.

Psychologists say that what is going on is a demonstration of how everyday sights, smells, and sounds can selectively activate goals and motives that people already have in their brains. What is going on is that the subconscious is running preexisting programs that strongly influence our choices and our behavior – all without us actually having any conscious awareness that we are being manipulated by our own brains.

These findings help to explain how we can be happy one minute, then for no apparent reason, unhappy the next. I’m sure everybody in here has experienced this phenomenon – you show up to a party feeling great, then, without apparent reason, you get depressed, turn sour, and want to get away. No amount of self-reflection can explain the change, but it could be that one of the women is wearing the same dress that your ex-girlfriend was wearing the night she tossed all your possessions onto the street or perhaps the smell of the house triggered repressed resentments about your childhood. You didn’t consciously realize any of it, but your subconscious did, and initiated a hard-wired program that actually changed your basic equilibrium.

I’m going to go a little further and say that I don’t think that self-reflection is enough to know thyself for yet another reason. No matter how hard we try, I don’t think it’s possible to get a true picture of who we are simply by looking inward. While it’s true that only we can see our deepest thoughts, our deepest desires, and our deepest motivations, one thing we simply cannot see is how others see us. We need more data, data that reflects the who that we are in the eyes of others. In short, to fully know ourselves, we need feedback on the self that others know and experience.

And thanks to the Internet, all of us can do something that the visitors to the Oracle at Delphi could not: While they could ask a god for advice, we can Google ourselves. How many of you have Googled yourself? According to a Pew Research Study, by the end of 2007, about half of all Americans have come a little closer to knowing themselves, at least as others see them, by Googling themselves. But whether one Googles oneself or simply listens to what others who know and care about you have to say, I don’t think we can get close to truly knowing who we are without input from outside of ourselves. That perspective allows us, at the very least, to check on whether who we think we are matches with how we are perceived by others, and, if there is a discrepancy, as there often is, figure out what happened, and correct it.

Another thing about human beings is we are not static. We change as we grow older, more experienced, and, as Billy Joel might say, earn a few scars on our faces. I certainly don’t think I am the same person I was in my early twenties, before my experience with advanced Hodgkin’s disease and all that went with it. I have a sense of continuity, certainly, but deep inside I know that I have changed at a very fundamental level, a conclusion that has been confirmed by many of those closest to me over the years.

While these assertions may seem to run counter to the strong current in our culture that we each have an essence that is eternal and at some fundamental level, unchanging, recent findings in neuroscience and neuropsychology tend to support my experience. I do not dispute that we are born with certain aspects of ourselves hardwired. Nor do I dispute that this hard wiring is sometimes quite difficult to change. Nonetheless, research is showing that while older brains may be less efficient than younger brains, and may in fact, show signs of memory loss and the like, older brains may actually be wiser brains. It has to do with how information is accumulated and processed, but the point is that for this and other reasons, our brains – and with them, us – change over time. So unlike some people who think it’s better to be consistent than right, I think it’s OK to change your mind because, in fact, your mind changes. We change. We become different people with different desires, different wants, different goals, different values. And keeping up with ourselves, not living in the past, is a big part of knowing ourselves.

Which brings me to the point that knowing thyself doesn’t just mean knowing and understanding one’s essence. It also means knowing our dreams, our abilities, our real virtues and even our frailties. It means knowing ourselves in all our aspects, including how we change over time, at least as well as we know the world, our jobs, and those around us. But this often isn’t the case. Just as we are generally good at helping somebody else figure things out, whether it be their love life, money situation, problems on the job, or whatever, we are often not so good at taking care of ourselves, and the same applies here. As I’ve gotten older I have realized just how much I was unaware about my younger self and I think many people have had the same experience and that some, some go almost all the way though life as complete strangers to themselves.

So does all this mean it’s not possible to fully know yourself? I think that’s a fair question. There are those who say that it’s not possible to understand oneself, that an accurate definition of self is impossible from an objective point of view. Others think that the exploding field of neuroscience – the study of the brain at an anatomical, but in particular, at the cellular and even molecular level – is the most hopeful candidate for providing scientific answers to the questions that have perplexed human beings for thousands of years, including who we are and what is our true nature.

Neuroscience is expanding at a fantastic pace. My son, TJ, who is doing the lay leading today, has his masters degree in neuroscience and so I have some idea of how far we have come since the old days of stone knives and bearskins when I was studying biochemistry in graduate school.

But you know, while I think neuroscience is going to be able to teach us a lot about what we are and how our brains work, I think it’s going to be less good at telling us who we are and how we should live. So while it is clear that we are comprised of conscious, subconscious, and unconscious beings, and that our feeling of total conscious control is something of an illusion, no matter what science says, no matter what the limitations, it is vital that we get to know ourselves to the best of our ability, and be honest and accepting of what we learn. If you insist on being ignorant or if you insist on being somebody else, then who will ever be you?

All of which brings me to William Shakespeare. Thought by many to be the world’s greatest playwright, Shakespeare’s greatest play may have been Hamlet. In Hamlet, Polonius is preparing his son Laertes for his travel abroad. Polonius directs his son to commit a “few precepts to memory”, the most famous of which is, “This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.”

Much has been written about this quote, and I certainly am not going to do any literary exposition here. But I do think it’s interesting that Polonius assumes that Laertes knows himself, for how can one be true to oneself without first knowing oneself? Thus, before following Polonius? advice, we first must follow the advice of the Oracle at Delphi, something that is at best a daily exploration, and at worst, impossible. But leaving aside for the moment the very real issue of how do we know ourselves, what does it mean to be true to that self? What does it mean to be true to the self we know and understand today, who needs to get about with the task of living, and hopefully living well?

Well, the first thing we know is that Shakespeare was not trying to grant Laertes permission to behave however he wanted. If you are an axe murderer, it will not avail you to say you were simply being true to yourself. So that’s not what’s going on here. Unless we live in solitude, being true to oneself will always mean being true in the context of culture, society, and law. Thus, one of the most difficult aspects of being true to yourself is how to navigate in a complex society that presents us with scores of often complicated, difficult, and even ambiguous relationships.

And we do live in a complex society that demands much of us, and that, for almost all of us, requires some level of compromise. It is inevitable. So we tend to wear masks, masks that have the Good Housekeeping seal of approval, that are safe, that don’t rock the boat. Sometimes we wear them because we have to, one of those accommodations to reality that just has to be. But sometimes we wear them out of fear, and sometimes we wear them out of a lack of self-confidence. Those are the masks we need to work on, need to shed, if we are to live a truly authentic life of integrity.

Still, we are left with the difficult question of how to choose our path, when to fight and when to yield. There are many answers to this question, of course, but let me quote what Thomas Jefferson had to say: “In matters of style, swim with the current, in matters of principle, stand like a rock.” Looking back on the 1970s, I’m not sure I agree with Jefferson on matters of style, but I do certainly agree with him on matters of principle.

Which begs the question, of course, which principles? Well, if we are being true to ourselves, then the principles we are being true to are the principles we found within ourselves, while we were following the Delphic command to know thyself. You know, taken seriously, this position is a pretty radical one in our culture, one that sits at the core of what I understand it means to be a modern Unitarian Universalist and an adherent of liberal religion.

I’ve been coming to this church for 31 years, and have always believed that one of the important missions of this church is to help people get to know themselves, their real selves, and then assist them in being true to themselves as they live their lives and participate in our world. This is, I think, a very different mission from many other churches. In many other churches the mission is to convince you to distrust your humanity, to almost disavow it, in favor of revealed truth that comes from God, truth that is unchanging, that is to be accepted and obeyed. Our church, and all those like it, are very special places, are sanctuaries of humanity in the broadest sense of the word and I, for one, am grateful for them.

But did you know that some of the people in this church are among the most disliked people in America? It’s true. And I’m not talking this time about being gay or lesbian. According to a study conducted by sociologists at the University of Minnesota, atheists, agnostics, and freethinkers are among the most disliked persons in America. They fell below Muslims, homosexuals, and recent immigrants in a poll that measured the respondents? view of whether and how much a number of different groups shared the respondents? vision of America and what it means to be an American. Unitarian Universalists, as free thinking adherents of liberal religion, and by that I mean us – you and me – we are not much liked or trusted by many in mainstream society, something it pays to know when you are out and about in the world.

Having noted that, we all know that no matter who you are, sometimes being true to oneself and one’s principles takes enormous courage and may even put you at risk of harm. It sometimes means having to stand against the majority, or your friends, or even your family. It means engaging in a regular pattern of behavior, and of making choices that are consistent with your espoused values and with the person you claim to be inside. It means having the courage of your convictions, and of being willing to put them out on the table, even when they are not popular. And I suggest to you that it all begins with knowing yourself, and then of accepting yourself, fully and completely, both the good and the bad, in order to be true to the good and change the bad.

Now, I don’t mean to imply that we are always alone in our lives and in our quest to be true to ourselves. Certainly, we have our friends, our family, we have this church, and we have a community of thought and feeling that goes back hundreds of years. All of that is enormously important.

And yet, we are a creedless religion that honors the individual conscious; which leads me to one of the scariest things about liberal religion and trying to know and be true to oneself.

There isn’t anyone else to blame.

When it’s up to you, when you are being true to yourself, then that’s all there is. This is another reason why living authentically, living the life of personal integrity, takes so much courage. Sometimes we’re all we’ve got.

And on this topic, it occurred to me that some Christians wear WWJD wristbands “What would Jesus do?” At first I thought we could wear WWED wristbands – you know, What would Emerson do?” Or even perhaps just get our own WWJD wristbands – only they would stand for What would Jefferson do? But ultimately I realized that none of these would be authentic, that if there was going to be a UU wristband it would have to read: WWID? What would I do?

Finally, there’s more to life than principles. There’s dreams, there’s goals, there’s fun. Yes, even tortured soul UUs get to have fun. But strange as it sounds, being true to your dreams, your goals, and your potential can sometimes be just as scary and intimidating as standing up for unpopular principles. Once we take off our blinders, once we see for real, we begin to understand just how much is possible in our lives and we wonder if we’re up to it. We look out at the vista of possibility and it can be overwhelming.

The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard put it this way: “There is nothing with which every person is so afraid as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming.” We talk about becoming the true beings that we are and then of being authentic and living lives of integrity, and it certainly sounds good, even exciting, but when it comes down to it, sometimes those prospects can be intimidating and scary. Sometimes it’s as if we are waiting for somebody to give us permission to be ourselves and pursue our dreams and our potential.

My message to you is don’t wait for anyone or anything to work on yourself and your dreams. You see, when we know ourselves, then we come into focus, our dreams become clearer, our path becomes straighter, and our sense of purpose and meaning grows until we feel such power and such of sense of belonging to and being right with the world, that as night follows day, we almost cannot help being true to ourselves.

So let me close today by suggesting this: I think there is a way to both know who you really are and at the same time, be true to who you are. And it’s not through ruminating, or self-reflecting, or taking classes, or any other inward looking activity. Ultimately, I think knowing yourself and being true to yourself is best accomplished simply by engaging fully in life and making choices and standing by them.

In the hit move Batman Begins, Rachel Dawes tells Bruce Wayne that it isn’t who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you. You are the choices you make and the actions you take. So if you want to know who you truly are, then put yourself out there, in situations that are challenging, that call for action, because then you’ll know. “There will be an inner voice that will tell you how you are doing.” You can sense it if you are honest with yourself and listen carefully.

So let me ask you to do something today, something we should do every day of our lives. Do something that is you. Do something that is true.


 Presented July 27, 2008

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Revised for print.

Copyright 2008 by Jim Checkley

Asking the Next Question by Jim Checkley

You can listen to the sermon by clicking on the play button above.

Asking the Next Question by Jim Checkley

I have always been a big science fiction fan. I even wrote and published some short stories way back in the dark ages of the 1970s when I lived up in New Jersey and was attending school at Montclair State College. I was, I think, in my last year at Montclair State when a friend of mine from school named Karl asked me if I wanted to go to a big science fiction and fantasy convention up in Great Gorge, New Jersey, a ski resort in the Pocono Mountains. I loved going to science fiction conventions and this one looked fantastic with lots of big name writers, a terrific program, and a fantastic dealers’ room. This science fiction convention had it all. And what was more, it was going to be held at the Playboy Club. What better place for a science fiction and fantasy convention?

Anyway, I told Karl that it would be great to go to the convention. So we made arrangements to drive up together and waited for the big day.

It was the middle of winter, back when we still had winter, and the night before the convention, it snowed something like three feet. I’m not kidding. The drifts were up over the parked cars on my street. But, I was a really big science fiction and fantasy fan, so I dug out my car and drove up to the college to meet Karl. I didn’t for one second doubt that Karl would be there, and so I was not surprised when he was—although his was the only car in sight. He, however, had been a little more practical than me and had called ahead to the Playboy Club to see if the convention was still going to be held. And, of course, it was or he would not have been there.

It was still snowing a little and standing there in the snow drifts, we had a momentary lapse of faith, but then decided, what the heck, what’s the worst thing that could happen—we fall off a mountain road in a blizzard. But we are all immortal when we are young, so away we went—driving, I might add, a Ford Pinto.

When we arrived at the convention, the place was deserted. I mean, there was nobody around. But we went into the club—it was very impressive—and found our way to the auditoriums where the main events of the convention were to take place. When we went inside we saw no more than a dozen fans and a handful of science fiction writers sitting around in conversation. Most of the people present had come in the night before and had stayed in the resort hotels. I think Karl and I were the only lunatics who had driven all the way up from the suburbs of New York City.

Anyway, the organizers saw no point to actually conducting the program—many of the guests of honor hadn’t arrived in any event. So, we spent the day hanging out in the mostly empty club, talking about science fiction, fantasy, and whatever else was of interest.

That was one of my favorite days ever. Yes, I was a geek, and on that day I was one very happy geek. Imagine being 21 years old and spending a day with a group of famous science fiction writers and some kindred spirits at a Playboy Club.

And this is how I met Theodore Sturgeon. How many of you know who Theodore Sturgeon was? Theodore Sturgeon was one of the great science fiction writers of the Golden Age of science fiction. His most famous novel is “More Than Human,” which won many awards, and he wrote two of my more favorite Star Trek episodes from the original series, “Amok Time” and “Shore Leave.”

But on this day, we spent hours talking, had lunch together—and yes, we had several bunnies as our waitresses (the first and only time that ever happened to me)—and we got to know each other pretty well. At some point in the afternoon, he signed the books I had brought up with me and in the process introduced me to his personal symbol that over the years I have taken on as my own. You see, Theodore Sturgeon signed all his books with his name and then he added a capital Q with an arrow going through it. Here’s what it looked like:

askingnextquestion

He asked me if I knew what that meant. I said I did not. He then said, “It means, ‘ask the next question.’ Ask the next question, and the one that follows that, and the one that follows that. And never stop asking questions.”

I immediately loved this symbol and what it stood for. After the convention, I asked a friend who was an art major to make me a stylized Q with an arrow going through it and I kept it framed on my desk for decades. I have tried to live my life in accordance with the attitude and vision engendered by always being ready and willing to ask the next question and being prepared to accept the answers wherever they may lead. That hasn’t always been easy, and there is more to it, actually, than meets the eye.

Asking the next question probably seems to you to be a natural state of affairs. After all, you—we—are Unitarian Universalists. But asking the next question is not a universally embraced attitude about life. There is a distinction between simply asking questions, which is a natural part of being human, and asking the next question. I don’t think that asking the next question, and the question after that, is actually an inherent part of being human. This is because, and this does make a difference, what most people want is answers. We hate uncertainty, ambiguity, and doubt. Human beings want answers so much that we will make them up if we need to—everything from the great myths that explain the world and our place in it, to the guy who says, “I don’t know,” but then gives you an answer anyway. And once people have those answers, and find them psychologically satisfying, they tend to stop looking.

You see, Unitarians always seem to be on the search for truth. And when you are searching, it makes sense to ask questions. But what happens when you have found the truth? The natural tendency is to accept what you’ve found, stop asking questions, and settle into a comfortable and satisfying place. Once you have found the truth, people who are still looking, who are still questioning, have a tendency to annoy you. So—on the bright side—we can all take some solace that we might annoy them as much as they annoy us. Be that as it may, however, once you’ve gotten to a place where you are satisfied, it’s entirely too easy to stop questioning.

And that attitude is understandable. I get it. We all get into our comfort zones with what we know and believe and we want to stay there. Having certainty, having answers, provides that comfort and lets us relax in a world that is terribly uncertain and is becoming more so all the time.

Many years ago, I had a secretary who would always interrupt me when we were talking about controversial issues such as evolution, global warming, or abortion. She’d tell me that she had her beliefs, that she was satisfied with them, and she was not interested in questioning them. She was saying, “Just leave me alone.”

The attitude displayed by my secretary can actually be kicked up a notch or two to the point where there is an active ban on asking questions. If you think about the way human beings lived for many centuries in Europe, free inquiry into the way the world worked, how to best live life, and so many other questions that confronted people was not just discouraged, it was punished. Thus, for a long time people were told that all they needed to know was Aristotle and the Bible and any deviation from that script was not just a sin, it was a crime.

This sort of attitude is still with us today, of course. The most obvious examples are the fundamentalists of Christianity, Islam, and other religions. But there’s more to it than that. At a mundane level, how often do we hear somebody say “TMI” meaning they are getting too much information about an uncomfortable or embarrassing subject and they want the speaker to stop? That’s a trivial thing, I admit, but TMI isn’t limited just to colonoscopies and locker room stories. TMI is symbolic of a strong current in our society that discourages inquiry into certain matters and areas of life. From the Frankenstein notion that there are things we simply were not meant to know, to the censorship and burning of books, a la Fahrenheit 451, to modern debates about recombinant DNA, stem cells, and cloning, there is a strong current of caution, indeed fear, about asking the next question and pushing the boundaries of knowledge, comfort, and our place in the world.

I, and I suspect many of you, reject these notions. You see, for me, asking the next question isn’t simply a matter of curiosity. For me, asking the next question is a way of life, it is an approach to the world and how we live in that world that for me is the only way to go.

Of course many—and I mean billions of people—have decided to live their lives and create their futures based on the authority of one of the mainstream religions, and in so doing accept as true and unchanging the values, laws, prescriptions, and choices found in sacred texts as interpreted by priests, rabbis, and mullahs. Those people have their framework of reality, their vision of life and how to live it, and they are done. They will each tell you sincerely and confidently that their accepted framework is the correct one, be it Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or some other. Reason and logic tell us that all of them cannot possibly be correct—but that doesn’t seem to matter. After all, they will say they have faith.

Faith is supposed to provide answers, and with them, certainty. It’s a kind of forced certainty—although that’s rarely acknowledged—because people of faith simply choose to accept something as true—that’s the very definition of having faith—accepting as true those things that otherwise cannot be proved to be true. Faith works, of course, because, it provides a safe, certain, framework of reality, morality, right, and wrong that people can and do rely upon. And it doesn’t seem to matter much what kind of faith we are talking about. Whether it’s faith in one of the many religions or faith in a Twelve Step Program, that faith will provide a level of certainty, which will itself provide for the comfort, safety, and sense of place and belonging that people seem to require to feel at peace with themselves and their place in the world.

This reminds me of a study I read about years ago concerning young children and how they respond to their environment. It turns out that if you provide a child with firm and certain boundaries, that child will actually venture out farther in exploring his or her environment than one that has been given total freedom to do as he or she wishes. This may seem counter-intuitive, but there is an explanation that makes sense to me.

The first child—the one with the boundaries and the framework—comes from a place of comfort and familiarity, a place of safety and certainty, which provides it with the confidence and ability to take some risks and venture out a little into the world knowing that if something happens, he or she can always come back to a known and safe place. The second child, the one with complete freedom, however, has no such certainty or safety and experiences what an adult might think of as unlimited free choice as a frightening chaos. That child must always decide for him or herself what is safe and unsafe, what is good or bad, and how far to go before going too far. This tends to make most children more cautious and anxious about things and as a result, they tend to hold back more. What applies to children also applies to adults.

Now everybody, whether they have traditional religious faith or not, everybody has a view of the world and their place in it. I have one, Hillary has one, we all have one. That view of the world is one that we trust, that we act upon, and gives to us the same thing that boundaries gave to the young children: a sense of comfort, place, and security in the world. And if we are asking the next question, then we are challenging that view on an almost daily basis, something I think is really difficult to do, but is also necessary.

In this respect, asking the next question symbolizes to me living the responsible, conscious, and intentional life. It is a life with as much responsibility as freedom and a life marked by having the courage and the will to confront, accept, and address the important questions that challenge us both as individuals and communities.

Asking the next question is not so much doubting as it is realizing that most knowledge and most truths are incomplete or inadequate to deal with every situation, especially in our incredibly complex and every changing modern world. Yes, it is important to believe in something, to be invested in each of our world views to the point where we trust and act upon them, but it is also important to know that they could be wrong and that we may need to change our minds, and, in the process, change ourselves. Said another way, not only should you not believe everything you hear, but you must be prepared on a moment’s notice to not believe everything you think.

This is the key to it then: If we create a framework of life that is full of certainty, full of absolute answers, whether from god or from science or some other place, then we will become stuck, we will not grow, will not evolve, will not expand. There may be some comfort there, perhaps even a lot of comfort, but to me it is a sterile, cold, and lifeless place to be. On the other hand, if we choose not to believe anything, if we choose not to invest ourselves emotionally, psychologically, and intellectually in a vision of what life should be, and constantly doubt ourselves and our understanding, then we end up in a shallow place, a place of impermanence, of total ambiguity, with little comfort, little to rely upon, little safety, and little fun. We must somehow be totally committed to our view of life today, but be willing to change tomorrow.

We are creating ourselves and our futures every day. This requires us to act consciously and with intentionality. That’s difficult to do for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that we have to actually pay attention and steer ourselves and our lives rather than simply letting ourselves follow the path of least resistance or some preordained path chosen by others or the path that our brains urge us to take as a result of evolution and our desire for comfort, certainty, and security.

In this regard, asking the next question is a symbol of our ability to rise above the animals that we are, that jumble of instincts, desires, fears, and other programs that evolution has provided to human beings for our survival. Those programs have worked remarkably well and we have not only survived, we have thrived. But now it’s time to change. Those survival techniques, including our incredible propensity for violence and war, as well as our ability to hate and denigrate based on irrational or meaningless distinctions, those tendencies simply are not serving us well any more and we need to do all in our power to lose them, both personally and as communities and nations.

Our ancient myths and mainstream religions contain the strong notion that humans were created by God at the top of the pyramid of life, that God has given people dominion over the Earth, and therefore, whatever we do is OK. This is a dangerous attitude, and one that needs to be lost, along with so much else from our old myths and religions. We need to instead accept that we are a natural part of the natural world, on a par with all life, and that for better or worse, we are the stewards of this planet and need to husband our resources and our home rather than believing that we have permission from God to do whatever we want.

There are two photographs that have been taken in the last 40 years that symbolize for me the new horizons and understandings that we all need to incorporate into our vision of the world and our place in it. The first was taken on Christmas Eve 1968 by the astronauts in the Apollo VIII spacecraft as it orbited around the moon. They turned their TV camera back on the Earth and for the first time in history, the people of Earth saw their home as a small cloud covered globe hanging in space—a jewel in an infinite ocean of black. That picture taught us in an instant that we are all one on this world, our only world, a tiny, fragile world, for which we, and we alone on this planet, are the caretakers.

There was no crystal dome over the Earth separating our world from heaven, as those who wrote the Bible believed; there was no heaven in the blackness of the total vacuum of space. On hundreds of millions of television screens around the globe all that the people saw was a fragile and altogether tiny world, a world put into perspective by the second photograph, I mentioned. Called the Hubble Deep Field, this photograph taken a few years ago by the Hubble Space Telescope and it provides the deepest, most awesome view of the sky ever recorded. The Hubble Deep Field revealed thousands of galaxies and trillions of stars existing in an area of the sky no bigger than a grain of sand held at arms length. The poet William Blake challenged us to imagine the world in a grain of sand: well here are trillions of them—an image so vast it is literally incomprehensible.

When the Apollo VIII astronauts read from the Book of Genesis on that Christmas Eve, it marked for me an important transition, a transition from the old myths, the old comforts, and the incredibly self-centered vision of humans and our planet, to the new vision with its very different place for us in the world, a natural place that was nonetheless fraught with responsibility and will require us to fearlessly, fairly, and honestly confront our future and the future of every living thing on this planet. But my youthful optimism has not been vindicated—at least not yet. I am a part of this church community and do these services in large part because I think that this transition—from the old myths to the new reality—is possibly the most important intellectual and spiritual transition a person can undergo and it is going to take lots of us to change the world.

And that, ultimately, is what asking the next question is about. It is about changing ourselves, our communities, and our world to make a better life for everyone. But before we can make changes, whether they are to ourselves as individuals or our communities, we need to be able to envision those changes and then make them so. To do this we must first and foremost change ourselves.

I therefore agree wholeheartedly with the notion of self-work and trying to make ourselves better than we are and to increase our understanding of ourselves, our relationships, and our place in the world. In that sense, I am a firm believer in what is called positive psychology. Most psychology you hear about is concerned with “fixing” something, be it a phobia, a neurosis, or some other metal ailment. But there is so much more possible in evolving and becoming a better, more understanding, more complete human being than just correcting problems. Positive psychology is about finding ways for us to grow, to become more than we are, and to simply be better people. And one need not be lying on a couch for positive psychology to be a force in one’s life: it can and does happen in the pews of this and other, kindred, churches and many other places as well.

I will conclude by noting that virtually all choices we make about how to live our lives, and what provides meaning and purpose, are uncertain in the sense that we cannot be sure that this path or that path will lead to the best result or have any meaning except to ourselves. There are no certain paths to specific outcomes like happiness, success, meaning and purpose. There is only our own path and the courage to go down it.

My path has been the path of asking the next question, and the question after that, and never stop asking questions. I am grateful to Theodore Sturgeon for introducing me to his Q with an arrow going through it on that snowy winter day so long ago. I chose that path, and it has made all the difference.

Presented June 24, 2007

First Unitarian Universalist Church

Austin, Texas

Revised for Print

Copyright © 2007 by Jim Checkley

Love Makes You Do The Wacky

© Jim Checkley

April 15, 2007

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button.

I wish I could take credit for the title of the sermon. But I can’t. The title comes from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a show I liked so much I did a service on it a few years ago. What’s going on is that Buffy is in love with somebody and is complaining that he is acting all jealous, but won’t admit it. Buffy is talking to her friend Willow and when Buffy complains to Willow that her boyfriend is being totally irrational Willow says, “Love makes you to the wacky.” To which Buffy responds: “That’s the truth.”

I agree with Buffy. Love does make you do the wacky. I’ll bet everybody in this sanctuary has at least one story of wacky behavior caused by being in love. Which begs the question, why? Why does love make us do the wacky? Why do we risk our jobs, our friends, our futures, our very lives in the name of love? What is it about romantic love that not only does it have its own holiday, but it provides both the greatest joys and the worst agonies imaginable, because truly, what can be better or worse than the total agony of being in love?

I was looking for a definition of love and found several I want to share with you. The first is from Ambrose Bierce and states that love is a type of insanity curable by marriage. You laugh now, but file this one away for later.

How about this one. It’s from a conference of sociologists back in 1977. Listen carefully:

Love is the cognitive-affective state characterized by intrusive and obsessive fantasizing concerning reciprocity of amorant feeling by the object of the amorance.

I dare you to try to turn that into a poem. In fact, I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable with the person who came up with that one dating my daughter. There are, of course, long dictionary definitions, but I think part of the problem we have in defining love is that in our culture, love is required to be all things to all people all of the time.

We love our spouse or our partner, certainly. But we also love our cars, our kids, our favorite colors, our food, our jokes, our art, and on and on. The word “love” has as many meanings and covers as much ground as the word “God.” Eskimos have 20 words for snow and we have one word for love. At least the Greeks had four words for love: Eros, or romantic love; agape or spiritual love; philia or Platonic love; and storge or natural affection, like that of a parent to a child. But we English speaking people, with a language that has by far the biggest, most encompassing vocabulary, we only have one word for love. Why is that? I think part of it is that our culture is very schizophrenic about love and there are enormous sensitivities around it, especially romantic love,

For example, you may have heard of the late Leo Buscaglia who once taught a course on love at UCLA called Love 1-A and wrote many books on the subject. Dr. Buscaglia taught that love is something we need to learn about and that understanding and dealing with love isn’t something that just comes to us by osmosis. As a matter of culture and social behavior, I think we can all agree with that. As you might imagine, however, Professor Buscaglia’s course created some controversy as people complained that university is no place to teach about love – seriously – university should be reserved for important stuff like history, language, science, and engineering. Besides, love is, well, a delicate subject, one that should be kept in a brown paper wrapper and only spoken about in hushed whispers behind closed doors or on the streets or under the covers.

I don’t know about you, but I think all of that is just ridiculous. I agree with, of all people, Benjamin Disraeli, who said “We are all born to love. It is the principle of existence and its only end.” Disraeli was right on at least two counts: first, as I’ll explain in a minute, we are born to love. The mechanisms of romantic love are hard wired and we are bound to that drive, those desires, like nothing else in life except eating and drinking. And second, I believe that romantic love, sex, and reproduction are the very purpose of our natural existence, the focus of life, and the only inherently meaningful thing about life itself beyond simply being.

I have a book called Dr. Tatiana’s Sex Advice for All Creation by Olivia Judson. It is a very clever book written as if Dr. Tatiana were answering letters about sex, reproduction, and other related issues from a wide variety of members of the animal kingdom. Talk about wacky. I’m telling you, insect reproduction in particular is bizarre and often deadly. Males in several species literally die for the opportunity to mate and pass on their genes. If life on this planet is the design of some intelligent creator, then he or she was on serious drugs when they came up with the myriad methods of sexual reproduction extant in the animal kingdom. If you want to get educated and blown away at the same time, I highly recommend reading Dr. Tatiana.

Now, insects don’t have the capacity for rational thought. At least we don’t think they do. Their behavior is thus controlled by their genetic code and is hard wired into their very being. How else can you explain the sometimes suicidal and often dangerous behavior indulged in by a whole host of critters in the animal kingdom? For a long time people believed that humans were immune to that sort of hard wiring, that our big brains removed us from the ranks of creatures who were programmed for certain responses and behaviors in the world of romantic love sex, and reproduction.

It is becoming crystal clear that we were very wrong about that. Very wrong indeed. Study after study has shown that desire and what we call romantic love is the result of chemical processes in the brain that are not only hard wired, but result in brain activity that is virtually indistinguishable from being on hard drugs, and in particular, drugs like cocaine. Now think about that for a second. Being head over heels in love results in or from, take your pick, brain activity that is indistinguishable from being on hard drugs. Robert Palmer was right: we are addicted to love. Is it any wonder that people routinely behave insanely when they are in that stomach wrenching, sleep deprived, dramatic phase of love? The poets who wrote about love didn’t know the half of it.

It turns out that the brain is, in fact, the most important organ related to love, sex, and reproduction. At every turn, genetic programs, working through the brain, guide humans in their dances of love. And, I know it’s not exactly politically correct to say this, but the scientific truth is that men’s and women’s brains are significantly different in the programs they run, the systems they create, and the desires they generate when it comes to romantic love. This is true about almost every aspect of romantic love and reproduction, including sexual orientation, desire, and how the sexes view their role in the courtship dance. And the most recent studies show that socio-cultural influences are less important on these very fundamentally hard wired programs than anybody suspected. Thus, while it is true to there is a large variation in what signals and stimuli people respond to in actualizing romantic love impulses, those impulses and the genetic programming underlying them are resistant to socio-cultural influences.

Here are a few specific (and I think amusing) results to ponder:

In a study of the effect of pictures of beautiful women on the brains of men, researchers found that the pictures activated the same reward circuits in the brains of heterosexual men as did food and cocaine. Here is proof – as if we needed it – that men truly are visually stimulated. As co-author of the study, Dan Ariely of MIT, said, “This is hard-core circuitry. Beauty is working similar to a drug.”

Another study showed men a slide show of random women, each being projected for several seconds; but the men could extend the viewing time for each picture by pressing keys on a keypad. You can guess the result. The men worked frantically to keep the beautiful women on the screen, on average pressing the keyboard more than 4,700 times over a 40 minute span, prompting one researcher to observe that “these guys look like rodents bar-pressing for cocaine.” As far as women are concerned, studies have demonstrated, for instance, that a woman’s choice of which men she says she finds “sexy” changes depending on how close she is to ovulation.

When close to ovulation, women tend to prefer the almost stereotypical tall, dark, rough-hewn guys, while selecting more round faced “nice guys” at other times. Women are also thousands of times more sensitive to musk-like odors than are men, which makes perfect sense when you think about it.

When it comes to studying romantic love, there is one person who stands out beyond all the rest. She is Helen Fisher of Rutgers University in New Jersey, and Dr. Fisher is a leader among the army of scientists who are studying the biological bases for romantic love.

Dr. Fisher has written two popular books on the subject, Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love and The Anatomy of Love: A Natural History of Mating, Marriage, and Why We Stray. And in 2002, she published a landmark study on what is happening in the brains of people who claim they are head-over-heels in love. I cannot possibly do justice to her work here, but let me talk about Dr. Fisher’s theories on how human beings fall in love.

Dr. Fisher has proposed that human beings fall in love in three stages.

Stage one consists of simple and generic lust – that undifferentiated general sense of desire. Studies show that lust is mediated in the brain by the hormones testosterone and estrogen, with testosterone having been shown to play a large role in women. These hormones appear to function to get people out looking, so to speak.

The second stage is attraction to a specific person. This is that truly love-struck phase where each instant apart is a lifetime, where you call each other 20 times a day, and where you can’t eat, can’t sleep, and can think of nothing else. In the attraction phase, a group of neuro-transmitters called “monoamines” play an important role. These include dopamine; adrenalin’the chemical of fight or flight; and serotonin, which plays a role both in romantic love and depression – big surprise there, right?

Dopamine is the “reward” chemical and its production is what we are after when we desperately need to be with our beloved. It’s also the chemical that is made in bucket-loads when are brains are exposed to cocaine. Serotonin is the tricky one in that it can actually induce temporary insanity. Thus, many of the millions of people who do crazy things for love, who swim rivers naked, jump out of airplanes with friends to hold up gigantic signs of proposal while they parachute into a lover’s back yard, and all the other stuff you’ve ever heard about, many of those people may actually qualify as temporarily insane.

The third phase in Dr. Fisher’s scheme is called attachment and it involves becoming bonded with and attached to a specific person. It is marked by the sense of calm, peace, and stability one feels with a long-term partner and is driven by the brain chemicals oxytocin and vasopressin. Crazily enough, oxytocin and vasopressin seem to interfere with the production of dopamine and adrenalin, which is why the madness of the head-over-heels attraction phase fades as the attachment phase progresses – a finding that actually provides a basis for the otherwise cynical definition of love I quoted earlier as a type of insanity curable by marriage.

In fact, studies have shown that vasopressin is responsible for monogamy in a critter called the prairie vol. Once vasopressin is triggered in the brain of the prairie vol, that vol is faithful to its mate for life. Block the vasopressin and that very same vol becomes promiscuous. These are very powerful chemicals. Things are obviously much more complicated in humans – history teaches us that vasopressin does not work nearly as well in people as it does in prairie vols – but, Dr. Fisher nonetheless cautions that you should never mess around with somebody you do not want to fall in love with, because if you generate enough oxytocin and vasopressin, you very well might fall in love despite yourself.

As a result of her’s and others’ studies, Dr. Fisher has drawn the remarkable conclusion that romantic love is not actually an emotion like joy or sadness. Instead, she claims it is a motivation system, a drive, a need that compels people to go out and find a partner and is more akin to the need to eat than being happy or sad. Romantic love, the attraction phase, says Dr. Fisher, is an even stronger desire than simple lust. “People don’t kill themselves just because they don’t get sex,” she says. But they will and do kill themselves over failed romantic love adventures.

There is so much more going on in evolutionary biology, but I don’t have the time to go into even a fraction of it. What I will say is the discoveries of how deeply hard wired we are for lust, attraction, romantic love, and attachment are not a surprise to me. Put simply, reproduction is much too important to leave to the whims of consciousness and culture.

And it makes sense that humans would be subject to the same forces that other higher animals are since we share common ancestors and evolved together on this planet. Said another way, before there was consciousness, there was reproduction and all the drives and hard wiring that nature provided to insure the continuation of life. For the last handful of millennia perhaps, humans have been able to cogitate about love and sex and reproduction. But a million years ago, those things just had to happen for the species to continue and nature had to insure that they would by hard wiring in the proper mechanisms. And nature was obviously successful since we are all here today. Science has and continues to confirm that we have inherited those mechanisms and we call them romantic love.

My point in telling you all this is not to pretend to be able to fully explain

why or how we fall in love, or even the biological basis for romantic love. It’s much more complicated than this, of course. Rather, my point is to simply suggest that there is in fact a powerful biological basis for romantic love, that it matters, and we should openly and fearlessly take account of it in our lives.

But these revelations do not sit well with many people, who bristle at the

thought that humans might be subject to instincts, hard wired instructions, and that something as sacred in our culture as romantic love and all the trappings of courtship, marriage, and the like that go with it, might be the product of brain chemicals that mimic the actions of drugs. As unsettling as the scientific discoveries may be, I think the truth is that we humans are a natural part of the natural world and are certainly a product of evolutionary biology. But we are also conscious beings with the ability to make choices that either compliment or reject the signals, motivations, and desires that our DNA has made part of our experience of life.

This is why it is useful to think of ourselves as both a “what” and a “who”.

The what is the primate creature that Mother Nature created out of the raw materials of life and that is subject to the same laws, the same forces, and the same desires as the other higher level creatures on the planet.

The who is a relatively new entity, a conscious being who seemingly at least,

can make choices about how to proceed with existence and at present, seems to be a little bit confused about what life, the universe, and everything is supposed to mean. These two aspects of humanity coexist in one body. Both matter.

This is also the reason I think people are often confused when they ask the

question, “What is the meaning of life?” Life is a process that goes on all around us, has been going on for millions upon millions of years. Humans are included in the process of life, but so is a snail darter or an elephant or a wasp. So when we think of life in the broadest sense, it is clear that the purpose and meaning of life is survival, reproduction and all that goes with it.

But when they ask the question,”What is the meaning of life?”, many people use

the word “life” to substitute for consciousness and sentience. And that, as they say, is a very different question and not one I have any desire to tackle today. Well, actually, I will say this. Whatever purpose or meaning there is to human existence, as opposed to life generally, has to been created, invented as it were, which is the role of culture, religion, and other philosophical enterprises that seek to imbue our conscious existence with meaning. But the meaning of life itself, the purpose of life, that is clear: it is to survive, today, tomorrow, and always.

Up until thirty to fifty years ago, most educated people saw a human baby as a

tabula rasa, a clean slate upon which anything could be written without the pesky influences of instincts and other hard wired instructions, or drives. Virtually nobody who studies these things today thinks of a baby as a tabula rasa. That concept has been relegated to the same graveyard as phlogiston and the ether.

Having said that, I must emphasize that just how much has been pre-programmed

or hard wired and how powerfully is subject to debate, some of it fierce. Still, it is clear that we are born with hard wired drives, call them instincts, call them predispositions, call them an inborn style, but they are there. And probably the most powerful, the one that dominates so much of our lives, is the need for romantic love. Like every other creature on the planet, human beings modify their behaviors to accommodate those incredibly powerful desires – or as Willow says, “we all do the wacky.”

Can these drives and desires be overcome by the who that we are – our conscious

selves? Of course they can. People routinely choose to do behaviors that conflict with the urges and desires brought about by romantic love and its chemical addictions to a person. It happens all the time. It’s one of the things that distinguish us from insects and the rest of the animal world. A praying mantis will go ahead and get its head bitten off in exchange for the opportunity to mate. Even the most testosterone and dopamine driven man, however, is most likely to decline that offer.

But does the fact that we can control our behaviors mean we should not acknowledge the drives and desires that are making our lives both wonderful and miserable? Shall we pretend that we have conscious control of who -and what gender – we find attractive and that any feelings we experience that are not sanctioned by the dominant culture are to be labeled as sinful and wrong?

My answer is an emphatic no. I think it is time we looked at these feelings,

these desires, without embarrassment, without shame, without feeling defensive that we are, after all, the product of evolution and are children of the Earth as much as children of our conscious souls.

While the idea that romantic love is a hard wired mechanism might spoil some of our notions of romance, it is also liberating. I suggest that if people would let go of the notion of the tabula rasa, would let go of the notion that falling down the rabbit hole of romantic love is a conscious choice, and realize that all those powerful feelings and urges are perfectly natural and are deeply imbedded into the essence of our natural being, perhaps we could all relax a little and not be so harsh with each other and ourselves.

Moreover, once that admission is made and the feelings themselves brought out into the open without embarrassment, they are much easier to deal with. Suppressed feelings and desires have a way of growing in the dark, just like mushrooms, but tend to lose their almost preternatural hold on us once we put them in the light of day.

Preachers routinely, and for thousands of years, have taken nature to be sinful. Western culture definitely assigns passion to the dark side, the night side, the female side of life, the side that is opposed by the light of reason, the cold hard facts of rationality that is ruled by the day and the male sky god. But when you pull all of nature over into the side of sin, you degrade the deepest and most fundamental parts of what we are as living creatures and deny the

importance of millions of years of evolutionary biology.

Our behavior matters, of course, and I am not advocating or justifying rampant

infidelity and wackiness just because we are hard wired for romantic love and all the feelings and desires that go with it. But I do think our ancestors and our Western religions got it totally wrong. I think that the world being split into male and female with romantic love and sexual reproduction, however those drives and desires may manifest in any individual, creates most of the pure joy

and happiness we experience in life.

In fact, I would go so far as to suggest that when we accuse a young man or woman of being “superficial” because they are attracted to somebody because that person is beautiful or sexy, we’ve got it backwards. There’s nothing superficial about it; rather such attraction is one of the most deeply rooted aspects of our natural existence. It is not only not sinful, it is part of the very essence of the inherent meaning of life.

Let me conclude by reaffirming that Willow was absolutely right when she told Buffy “Love makes you do the wacky.” We understand why that is so just a little better now than our mothers and fathers and their mothers and fathers did, but the feelings, the desires, the power of love remain undiluted and are eternally ours. No matter the cultural spin we put on them, love, sex and reproduction are simply fundamental to us and our beings. We truly are born to love. It is our birthright, our purpose, our meaning, and our glory.


 Presented April 15, 2007

Revised for print

Copyright – 2007 by Jim Checkley

A century of relativity

Jim Checkley

July 17, 2005

You can listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

A Century of Relativity

by Jim Checkley

One of my intellectual heroes is the French mathematician and physicist Henri Poincare. This is because he is universally regarded as the last generalist—that is, the last person to do original work in all branches of mathematics. In 1902 Poincare wrote a book called Science and Hypothesis in which he posited three fundamental problems that befuddled physics: first, the motion of particles suspended in liquid, called Brownian motion, that defied explanation; second, the strange fact that when light hit a sensitive metal plate, electrons were knocked off the plate, a phenomenon called the photoelectric effect; and finally, the abject failure of physicists to detect the “ether”, the hypothesized medium in space through which light waves were said to propagate.

Three years later, in 1905, a 26 year old patent clerk living in Bern, Switzerland, named Albert Einstein, solved all three problems and then some. “A storm broke loose in my mind,” Einstein said about that heady year. Between March and September he published five remarkable papers (all without citation to other work), each of which either created or transformed a field of physics. Physicists call 1905 Einstein’s Miracle Year and his output is generally regarded as the single most productive burst of creativity in the history of science.

In honor of the 100th anniversary of the Miracle Year, 2005 has been declared the World Year of Physics by the United Nations General Assembly, the United States Congress, and a host of physics institutions around the world. Celebrations are happening in more than 30 nations and in the United States, scores of universities have conducted or plan to conduct programs in honor of Einstein’s accomplishments and to promote science generally.

And what accomplishments they were! I promise to talk physics for only a minute or two, in order to sum up what happened in 1905. Most famously, Einstein created Special Relativity, and with it, the only equation Steven Hawking’s publishers would allow him to put in his book A Short History of Time. You all know it, E = mc2, which was derived in its own three page paper that might as well have been attached to Einstein’s original paper on Special Relativity.

Ever pithy, Einstein described relativity this way: “Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute.” Special Relativity was subsumed into General Relativity, published in 1915, which overturned Isaac Newton’s theory of gravity. Einstein, and relativity, truly entered into our culture in 1919, when Sir Arthur Eddington conducted starlight bending around the sun experiments that showed the superiority of Einstein’s equations over those of Newton. Relativity revolutionized how we view space and time and lead to the development of atomic power and nuclear weapons.

In explaining the photoelectric effect, Einstein discovered that light is both a wave and a particle and set the foundations for quantum mechanics, one of the most important disciplines of the 20th century. It was for this discovery, and not relativity, that Einstein was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1921. The irony here, of course, is that Einstein never accepted that quantum mechanics gave a sensible picture of the universe, asserting that “God does not play at dice.”

In the third of the big three papers, Einstein proved the correctness of the atomic theory of matter by explaining that Brownian motion was caused when particles suspended in a liquid collide with the atoms or molecules that make up the liquid. That may sound obvious now, but back then, Einstein’s paper was crucial in converting the last skeptics of atomic theory.

Oh, and Einstein also published his thesis dissertation in 1905; it remains one of the most cited scientific papers ever.

Through his radical and revolutionary discoveries, Einstein became the very symbol of genius in the 20th century. Many experts on such things believe that in the history of Western Civilization, only Aristotle, Galileo, and Newton were his equals. Einstein, however, frequently downplayed his brain power with statements such as: “I have no special gift. I am only passionately curious.”

But there was no denying that Einstein was eccentric. His famously chaotic hair actually represented a famously chaotic personality. Einstein never learned to drive, for example, and when he walked home from his office at Princeton University, sockless and deep in thought, he would rattle his umbrella against the bars of an iron fence. If for any reason the umbrella missed a bar, he would go back to the beginning. And his lack of fashion sense would appall any self-respecting metrosexual. But, as always, Einstein had a clever quip to disarm his critics. Comparing the difficulty of physics and fashion, Einstein remarked: “Once you can accept the universe as matter expanding into nothing that is something, wearing stripes with plaid comes easy.”

And Einstein was famous. Oh, was he famous. He is the only scientist to achieve pop star status—something that has endured, if not increased, after his death 50 years ago. I think part of the magic of Einstein is that most people do not understand much about what he did, but they know it was important, they know it changed the world, and he seemed like a self-effacing, harmless eccentric who was accessible and not encased in some ivory tower. Americans like their geniuses to be nonthreatening—and Einstein fit the bill.

Whatever the reasons for it, Einstein used his celebrity to speak out against fascism, racial prejudice, and the McCarthy hearings. He was the only scientist with enough prestige and authority to sign the letter that convinced Franklin Roosevelt to authorize the creation of the atomic bomb. And in 1952, just three years before his death from a heart aneurysm, he was offered the presidency of Israel, which he politely declined.

It is difficult to overestimate how large an influence Einstein’s theories, especially relativity, have had on us and our culture. “We are a different race of people than we were a century ago,” says astrophysicist Michael Shara of the American Museum of Natural History, “utterly and completely different, because of Einstein.”

For all these reasons, and many more, Time Magazine declared Albert Einstein to be the Person of the Century and this year has been proclaimed his year. That is all I am going to say about Einstein directly, and if you are interested, there are a number of good biographies about him, including the one by Ronald W. Clark, which many people feel is the definitive work.

Instead, I want to talk about the impact that Einstein and science generally has had on us over the last century. Because I think it is ironic that the world is celebrating science this year, is trying to use this anniversary to rekindle interest in science across the globe. It is ironic because although the 20th century was the greatest 99 years of scientific and technical progress in the history of Western Civilization, much of it on the back of Einstein, it would be a mistake to claim we are a scientific society. I grant you that because we live in a highly technological society, it is only natural to believe that we also live in a highly scientific one. In fact, just the opposite is true.

Let me give you a few statistics I took off the Internet that I, at least, find disturbing. The belief in pseudo-science and fundamentalist religious assertions is staggering. Listen to this: 47 percent of people surveyed in the United States said they believed that the Book of Genesis was literally true and accurately set forth how the world was created; 65 percent believe in Noah’s Flood; 41 percent believe that dinosaurs and humans lived at the same time. But it’s not just religious fundamentalism: according to a survey taken by the National Science Foundation, 70 percent of Americans do not understand the scientific process; 40 percent believe in Astrology, that is, that the alignment of the planets at one’s birth determines one’s personality and destiny; 60 percent agreed strongly that some people have psychic powers; 30 percent think UFOs are genuine alien spaceships; and millions call psychic hotlines to get advice about finances, romances, and the future.

Belief, not knowledge, is the preferred currency of the day. Magical, superstitions, and irrational thinking are everywhere and the dedication to observation, facts, and the truth those facts reveal, which is at the heart of the scientific approach, is sorely lacking in virtually every aspect of our culture. This phenomenon is, I think, directly correlated with the fantastic strides made by science in illuminating the nature of the world and human beings’ relation to it. It has been said that “The darkest shadows are cast by the brightest lights.” The bright light of science has cast terribly dark shadows for many people who desperately cling to superstition, mythology, and blind faith in order to feel comfortable and at home in a world science has revealed to be harsh, finite, deadly, and without much mystery or magic.

Thus, rather than enhance the scientific and fact based framework of reality, I think that the development of relativity–and quantum mechanics–as well as other scientific intellectual paradigms of the 20th century, including evolution, psychiatry, genetics, and many more, has resulted in the alienation of many people, who either do not understand or do not want to understand the implications of our scientific discoveries and therefore have chosen to base their perception of reality and the conduct of their lives on something other than the cold hard facts.

This is quite a turn of events from what our ancestors just a few hundred years ago believed would happened. The appeal to rationality, to science, to reason was seen during the Enlightenment as inevitably bringing about progress in how people lived, progress for the better, progress that would eventually lead to the perfecting of the world. Unitarians are fond of quoting Thomas Jefferson’s prediction that once all men became rational and reason held sway, then they would all be Unitarians. Well, Thomas Jefferson was a brilliant man of many wonderful accomplishments, but apparently being a seer was not one of them. We Unitarians remain a small minority religion and, in terms of influence, are arguably less influential as a movement than we were in the late 19th century when many of the patron saints of the denomination like Ralph Waldo Emerson held sway and divinity schools like Harvard were populated by many Unitarian thinkers.

What happened? We don’t have nearly enough time today to discuss that issue. Part of it, I believe, is as I suggested: science has revealed a world that is harsh, incomprehensible to the average person, and very unlike what we wish it would be. And, our world is full of uncertainty, ambiguity, and, a sense of insecurity and fear kicked up many notches by 9/11 and war. In this regard, I think Albert Einstein and relativity get a bad rap. That is, Einstein has been blamed or credited, take your pick, by many for the development of moral relativism during the 20th century. Today, moral relativism is used as a curse term by conservatives and the religious right. And while I utterly disagree with them regarding the value of thinking about morals in a relative rather than absolute way, it is also simply untrue that moral relativism derived from Einstein’s theory of relativity.

First of all, Einstein never said “everything is relative, there are no absolutes.” In fact, Einstein developed relativity theory (which he preferred to call a theory of invariances) so that all observers, in whatever reference frame, could get the same answers to their physics experiments. It is true that various measurements will be different in each reference frame, but there are right answers—the same ultimate answers that everybody would agree are correct. Einstein did not bring about the end of certainty in knowledge; by fixing the problems Poincare pointed out, he actually restored it.

This did not stop the pundits from associating new ideas in art, literature, philosophy, and music with Einstein’s theory of relativity. Einstein rejected all such associations. Nevertheless, despite what Einstein said or didn’t say, the phrase “everything is relative” entered into our culture and became synonymous with the notion that there is never an absolutely right answer to any question. The phrases “it’s all relative” and “everything is relative” combine for about 165,000 hits on Google. This concept has saturated our culture in a way that Einstein would both reject and never imagined and has led, I believe, to the transformation of the belief that everybody is entitled to place his or her own opinion into the free market place of ideas, into the belief that each and every opinion must be treated with respect because there are no actually right answers to anything.

This concept—and so much more—has also provided a basis for all those who long for the good old days of traditional values, solid cultural boundaries, and, above all, certainty, to come together and rebel against a culture that, to them, has lost its moorings and exists in a world of ambiguity and doubt, with no boundaries, no guidance, and no rules. This is decidedly not what Jefferson had in mind when he foresaw a world where Unitarianism was the dominant religion.

But despite my discomfort with all this, it might not matter so much if the people who believed in unscientific, irrational things kept their beliefs to themselves. But that is decidedly not the case with regard to religious fundamentalism. Fundamentalist religions of all denominations are the fastest growing religions in the world. According to reports on the Internet, fundamentalist Islam has been the fastest growing religion in the world over the last 30 years. And you don’t need me to tell you about the growth of fundamentalist Christianity in this country and the increasing amount of power and influence Christian fundamentalists wield. Right after the last election, Time Magazine’s cover story was on the 25 most influential fundamentalists in the country. They, and millions like them, have, to their credit, gotten off their backsides and entered into the fray, and now have influence and sometimes control at all levels of government and are seeking more. And the effects are being felt over much of the country. Here are just a few examples.

In Tulsa, Oklahoma, the board governing of the local zoo has authorized the construction of an exhibit that presents Biblical creation as the explanation for how animals got on this planet and their diversity. The justification used for this was, in part, that a small statue of an elephant in the style of Hinduism was present at the zoo.

At a park called Dinosaur Adventure Land, run by creationists near Pensacola, Florida, visitors are informed that man coexisted with dinosaurs. This fantasy accommodates the creationists’ view that the Earth is only 6,000 years old and that Darwin’s theory of evolution is false.

At the Grand Canyon, the Department of the Interior is selling creationist literature that claims that the canyon was made during Noah’s Flood and not over many millions of years of erosion by the Colorado River. This situation got the attention of scientists from seven organizations who sent a joint letter to the Department of the Interior demanding that the literature be removed from the book store. But when the Grand Canyon National Park superintendent attempted to block the sale of the book, he was overruled by headquarters. I can report to you that the privately run Noah’s Flood tours of the Grand Canyon have been cancelled for economic reasons, but as far as I can ascertain, the Bush Administration still condones the sale of the book.

In Texas, and around the country, fundamentalist pharmacists are refusing to fill prescriptions for birth control pills and other related devices based on personal moral standards. In 1965, the Supreme Court of the United States found that a Connecticut law making it illegal to sell contraceptives even to married couples was unconstitutional as a violation of the right of privacy. Today, however, legislation has been introduced in a number of states to specifically authorize pharmacists to refuse to fill a prescription based on their personal beliefs.

The Catholic Church has become more vocal and more radical on issues of science and religion. Two pieces in the Times last week (“Finding Design in Nature” by Christoph [Cardinal] Schonborn, July 7, 2005 and “Leading Cardinal Redefines Church’s View on Evolution: He Says Darwinism and Catholicism May Conflict” by Cornelia Dean and Laurie Goodstein, July 9, 2005) assert the view that evolution is in conflict with Catholic teaching.

And it’s impossible not to note that yesterday, J.K. Rowling sold millions of copies of the sixth volume in the Harry Potter series, a series that the Pope, who as a Cardinal was head of what used to be called the Inquisition, has condemned. According to signed letters scanned and published on LifeSiteNews.com, a family-oriented news portal on the Internet, Benedict wrote in 2003 to the author of a book critical of the Potter series: “It is good that you enlighten people about Harry Potter, because those are subtle seductions, which act unnoticed and by this deeply distort Christianity in the soul, before it can grow properly.” My soul is probably too old and already too corrupted for the Potter books to do too much damage, but I picked up my copy of the sixth volume yesterday and have already read the first 130 pages.

Finally—and I could go on, you understand—in Cobb County, Georgia, the Board of Education required that stickers that asserted that evolution is only a theory be placed into science books. The stickers read: “This textbook contains material on evolution. Evolution is a theory, not a fact, regarding the origin of living things. This material should be approached with an open mind, studied carefully, and critically considered.” This was in keeping with the President’s own scientific understanding of evolution when he said: “On the issue of evolution, the verdict is still out on how God created the Earth.”

Now it’s true that the sticker requirement was struck down by the courts, but that’s not the point. The point is that fundamentalists are everywhere trying to remake the world in their own image, trying to undo 400 years of scientific progress in our understanding of ourselves and the world, trying to make the world safe for their version of Christianity and its dogma so that they can luxuriate in their framework of life–a framework that at its heart is, I believe, unsupportable, but one that, for them at least, is also full of hope, promise, and self-satisfaction.

It is unreasonable and unrealistic to believe that fundamentalists are going to give up their religion, their beliefs, and the hope, promise, and satisfaction they provide, merely because somebody points out that scientific observation conflicts with those beliefs. You understand nothing about the human heart and soul if you do not understand the lengths to which they will go to keep an unwanted truth at bay. You understand nothing about the power of fundamentalist religion if you do not understand how deeply and powerfully it affects the people who surrender to it. The heart and soul do not care if something is true in the scientific, intellectual sense in order to become attached to it.

Human beings have the ability to invest themselves in beliefs that have no rational basis. You all know that. It happens all the time. But what quality of belief allows it to persist in the face of insurmountable evidence against it? This is a complicated question, one that I wish I knew the answer to, but I think we begin to understand it when we realize that whatever gives life purpose, meaning, and hope is the stuff that moves our hearts and souls and is believed. And for most people, there seems to be an imbalance between belief and knowledge in how they affect us and how they are valued. Knowledge tends to feed the intellect. Belief tends to feed the heart and soul. For so many people, satisfying the heart and soul, whatever is believed and however that is accomplished, is what is important in life; the rest, it doesn’t matter much, and can be left at the door.

In vivid and stark contrast, many Unitarians are the kind of people who, as Davidson is fond of saying, believe in salvation through bibliography. A central element of our religion is that it is one where knowledge and the intellect take precedence over, and in some sense control, what the heart and soul are able to believe. Unitarians insist on taking their brains with them into the pews.

The problem is that not only are they—we—in the minority, but the millions upon millions of people who believe in things that are irrational, delusional, unscientific, and downright wrong, they will never give up those beliefs on the basis of mere facts. We live in a post factual age—something I see increasingly expressed in outlets like the New York Times, the various news magazines, and even the cable news networks. I have concluded that Canon was right: Image is everything. And in a world where all things are relative, where everybody is entitled to his or her own opinion and have it respected out of PC etiquette, where there are no firm, absolute answers, then anything goes and belief–something that is at least an order of magnitude stronger than mere knowledge–will have its day.

I fear we are in danger of losing the gains made in the last 400 years against superstition, fear, and irrationality. Many before us have paid a high price to bring our culture to this point of understanding of the world and our place in it. Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake because he asserted that the stars were suns and there were other planets and they were inhabited. Michael Servetus suffered the same fate for claiming there were errors in the concept of the Trinity and that it was nonbiblical. Galileo was condemned because he espoused the Copernican system, a system that yanked Earth, and with it humans, from the center of creation. Joseph Priestly, the discoverer of oxygen, was forced to flee from England after his laboratories were attacked because he was a Unitarian who asserted that Jesus was not the literal Son of God.

But we are not going to retain what has been so costly won by simply asserting that reason and logic should be honored over mere belief. We know too much about how human beings work to return to that. Even economists now admit that people do not behave rationally in the market based on evidence that demonstrates that where money is concerned, people do not behave rationally, but rather indulge their hearts and souls when buying cars, houses, clothes, and everything else. The wonder is that it has taken economists this long to figure that out.

I think the challenge to Unitarianism and to Unitarians everywhere is to develop and share a religion that provides something worth believing, worth cherishing, worth investing one’s life in, while not leaving our brains at the door, while not succumbing to illusion and delusion, and while being true to ourselves–and by that I mean our hearts and souls as well as our brains. The Unitarian religion has always provided an abundance of things worth knowing; we need to strive just as hard and just as passionately to provide something worth believing.

This won’t happen by itself. Like the fundamentalists, we have to leave the safety of our sanctuary, and venture out into the world and proclaim that it is possible to be both scientific and heartfelt, to demand understanding based on knowledge without throwing out the deeply held beliefs that nourish our souls. But that will require us to take a stand, to assert that this way—our way—is better than their way and thus leave behind the shackles of political correctness and an irrational tolerance of things that we don’t believe in and that we actually believe hurt us and our neighbors.

As you leave church today, consider that our building is invisible until you are on its very threshold. Consider that we are isolated from the world and think about whether that is what you want for your religion, the one you’ve chosen, the one you believe in. Consider if you are willing to stand up for what you know and believe against a world engulfed in fundamentalist and irrational beliefs, beliefs that clash with much that we in this church hold dear. Consider if you are willing to be a beacon on a hill before it’s too late.

Presented July 17, 2005

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Austin, Texas

Revised for Print

Copyright © 2005 by Jim Checkley

Permission is given for noncommercial, personal use.

When Winning Is The Only Thing

© Jim Checkley

July 11, 2004

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

CENTERING

How do we define winning? It makes a difference.

Used to be that winning was not just about the scoreboard. Used to be that the scoreboard wasn’t the only thing. Can we still say that’s true?

From Little League to pro sports we hear again and again that losing hurts worse than winning feels good. Why is that? Why does losing hurt worse than winning feels good? Could it be that winning is expected, is the only thing, and winning is therefore more a relief than a joy, while losing is a dreaded, hated thing, just like the losers themselves?

When coaches say that their job is to bring out the champion in every player, are they speaking metaphorically or literally? Do you have to be a literal champion, win a championship, a gold medal, or is it OK to simply do your best, to become the best you can be?

If winning is about working to achieve success, and if success is, as the great UCLA coach John Wooden says, the piece of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you can be, then why are coaches and players fired, vilified in the press, booed, given death threats, and disrespected if they achieve success but still lose? Why is it that the great unifying principle for all these totured souls is losing?

Maybe it’s because Vince Lombardi was right: maybe its because when it comes time to walk the walk instead of talk the talk, when it gets down to brass knuckles and gut feelings, winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.

SERMON

I have been thinking about doing a sermon on sports and its impact on society for many years. But not as many years as I’ve known our own John Sanders. I’ve known John for almost the entire time I’ve been in Texas’going on 27 years. Last year John sent me some clippings from the newspaper about sportsmanship in Little League and sports generally and included a short note suggesting it was time to do a sermon on the obsession with winning that seems to be the hallmark of our culture. So here I am..

The article that John sent to me concerned a Little League baseball player who had broken some rules at home and whose parents had grounded him. Pretty typical. But then a strange thing had happened. Once the child explained to his friends that he was grounded and was going to miss a game or two as a result, the parents of the other children on the Little League team began calling and complaining to the grounded boy’s parents that his punishment wasn’t fair. The calls were many, frequent, and some were quite angry.

Why all the fuss? Well, the grounded child was the best player on the Little League team. Without him, it was much more likely the team would lose the games he was going to miss. This was so upsetting to the other players and their parents that they called to complain. So the parents of this child, in the aftermath, had written to one of those columnists who write about ethics to ask if they had done the right thing. Or was grounding their child wrong because the other children might, as a result, end up losing a Little League baseball game?

The columnist reassured the parents that they had done the right thing and spent most of his column complaining that the preoccupation with winning that seemed to grip the country had gotten out of hand. He lamented that the need to win, the desire to win, almost at any cost, and at any level, had become increasingly rampant and was becoming a real problem in our society.

The first thing I thought of reading that article was Green Bay Packer’s coach Vince Lombardi and his famous quote that “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing,” the quote from which I took the title of the sermon. If any single expression captures America’s obsession with winning, this is it. There are several sources on the Internet that claim that Coach Lombardi did not actually utter these words. But it doesn’t matter. Did Humphry Bogart say “Play it again Sam?” Did Carl Sagan say: “Billions and billions and billions?” Did Marshall McLuhan say: “The media is the message?” No, none of them did. But all these expressions are now American icons.

And while many individuals would dispute Coach Lombardi, and there are hundreds of articles claiming that winning is not the only thing, I think that the expression winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing has taken on a life of its own over the last 40 years. And while I do not blame Coach Lombardi directly for the escalation in the competitive environment in America and the obsession with winning that has accompanied it, the notion that winning is the only thing is, I believe, at the heart of many of the dilemmas we find in sports, business, culture, and society generally. Because I believe that we, as a society, have bought into that expression, and that it lies behind much of who we are and what we do as a culture.

I thought I would be doing a little sermon on the dangers of emphasizing winning to the exclusion of other important aspects of life, but I quickly realized that this is a huge topic, one that crosses many disciplines and aspects of culture. Indeed, it was a struggle to try to synthesize just a few aspects of this issue into a twenty-minute talk. For instance, I have neither the time nor the inclination to explore how American culture got to the point where winning a Little League game is so important it is worth challenging your neighbors’ choice of discipline or allowing a boy who is 2 years overage to play in order to win the Little League World Series, something that happened just a couple of years ago. Instead, I’d simply like to make a few observations on the effects of elevating winning to the status of the only thing and look at how this phenomenon is not limited to sports, but affects all we do.

I grew up in the 1960s and early 70s, a time when sports, while still a significant part of American culture, were not nearly as important or as available as they are today. Most people were content to deal with sports on the weekend on TV and check on the progress of the season in the paper or listen to the home team on the radio. Those of you under 30 might not believe it, but 40 years ago, one couldn’t just pop the TV on any given night and have a smorgasbord of sports waiting for the watching. There was no Monday Night Football, no superstation cable outlets, no magazines devoted to recruiting high school kids to college, no broadcasts of pro sports drafts, and, best of all from my point of view, sports had not yet degenerated into 24/7 sports talk radio and TV. Look, I love sports, played organized baseball, football, and basketball and ran track and cross country, but all this gossip about sports has really pushed me over the edge.

Can I just say the obvious: sports are a huge part of American culture. Major sporting events like the Superbowl, the World Series, the NBA Finals, the Stanley Cup Finals, Grand Slam tennis and Major golf events, the Triple Crown of horse racing, the Olympics, the World Cup, all these events and many more produce an almost continuous current of competition, triumph, and defeat that is at once iconic and in a sense, religious. If religion is that which binds us together, well, little binds the country together more than sports.

Since the creation of ESPN in 1979, sports have developed into one of the most powerful and dominant aspects of our culture. ESPN stands for the Entertainment and Sports Programming Network’although I often call it the ETERNAL Sports Programming Network’and is the single most important thing that happened to sports since the invention of the television. ESPN, Disney, and the American Broadcasting Company have common ownership: sports, fantasy, and television’what a combination.

Today players are paid not just in the millions, but in the hundreds of millions of dollars to play kids’ games for a living. Millions of fans metaphorically live and die by the success of their teams’and by success I mean winning and losing. And because of the proliferation and growth of sports, seasons have become extended, overlap, and never seem to end. Even when the teams aren’t actually playing, they are being talked about on thousands of outlets across the country. Sports in America have grown to the point where the personalities are almost as important as the games, where the culture is almost as important as the scores, and where, at every level, winning seems to be the paramount concern.

Jacques Barzun, the great Columbia University historian, commented years ago that to understand the American character one should understand baseball because that sport encompassed so much of what made America unique. I submit to you today that to understand the American character one should understand sports generally because our attitude towards sports reflects our attitude towards the rest of our culture. The way we play the games of our sports culture is, I think, reflective of how we will play the game of life.

We as a culture, as a society, have bought into the Vince Lombardi attitude about winning. American society, already competitive, already individualistic, has become obsessed with winning. In fact, Jerome Holtzman claims that “Losing is the great American sin.” There are many who would agree with him.

And while it may have started in the sports world, this attitude has spread to every aspect of culture, including business, law, and every corner of society. It is very different from the days when I used to go to the Boys’ Club of Clifton and there was a huge sign on the wall in the gym that said: “It’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game.” While everybody, including me, tried our best to win, and winning was important to us, make no mistake, my coaches for the most part displayed the attitude that if you gave your best, then the final score was not what was most important. I visited my old Boy’s Club’now the Boys’ and Girls’ Club’about 10 years ago and that sign was gone. And I frankly don’t expect them to put up another one any time soon.

The promotion of sports in our culture to the highest levels of importance and the growth of sports into a multi-billion dollar business has elevated winning to the point where it does seem to have become the only thing. This is a dangerous situation. I think we get in trouble when we are only focused on winning because eventually, everything else about the game becomes secondary or expendable. If winning is the only thing, how can there be room for anything else?

Sportsmanship is eventually sacrificed to winning; civility is sacrificed to winning; respect is sacrificed to winning; character is sacrificed to winning; playing by the rules is sacrificed to winning. All the reasons we are told sports are good for us fade away. Being honorable becomes a liability that many people question if not outright think is foolish. Like the heel of a shoe that wears down only gradually, so gradually that we don’t even realize it until we try on a new pair, all other aspects of competition slowly erode when winning is the only thing. And I’m not just talking about this happening in sports. This sort of phenomenon happens in business, in culture, in religion, in society, in any group where the emphasis on winning pushes other considerations aside. American culture has become, to an extent that I frankly have difficulty putting up with, a culture absolutely dominated by competition for everything and the attitude that winning is the only thing.

Having said that, I want to say that I don’t think that either competition or winning is necessarily a bad thing. My complaint goes more to a loss of perspective, to a loss of balance, and the ripple effect that occurs when society decides that winning is the only thing.

Let me give you an analogy to what I mean. Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” That saying is often misquoted and people often forget the foolish part. But that is the key to the saying. What Emerson was telling us is that consistency for its own sake’a foolish consistency’is the hobgoblin. What I am saying is that when winning becomes the only thing, pushes everything else to the side, that is the hobgoblin.

Speaking of hobgoblin’s, one of my least favorite side-effects of winning at all costs is that it has turned us into a much less civilized society. When winning is the only thing there is a tendency to break the rules, to cheat, to develop an us/them attitude that leads to disrespect, meanness, unsportsmanlike conduct, and tends to dehumanize, if not demonize, the other side. In short, when winning is the only thing it is simply much less pleasant to play the game.

Let me share with you my least favorite, but most apropos, example of what I mean. It happened at a Westlake High School football game a few years ago. I forget who Westlake was playing that day, but I will never forget how a vocal group of parents and fans behaved. There was a player on the other team who was quite good and doing quite well. These Westlake fans, who were used to steam rolling opponents, were literally yelling for the Westlake players to hurt this kid so he could no longer participate in the game. I, like most of you, I’m sure, have heard foul mouthed fans at a game before. But for some reason, this particular behavior touched me more deeply than some other similar behavior I have seen. I was instantly both angry and depressed and I just sat there thinking: this is one of your neighbor’s kids. He’s one of us, a part of our community. And you want him hurt because he’s a good player and Westlake might possibly, God forbid, lose a game?

There are hundreds of stories like this from Little League parents who scream at the umpires, the coaches, and the players, to my own experience in the practice of law, which I (and my partners) have found has become much nastier over the 22 years I have practiced, to the escalation of road rage that we have all heard about if not experienced. It is this lack of civility on the road that most amazes me. Tens of thousands of people die on the roads each year and you’d think we could be civil to each other when our very lives are at stake. But that doesn’t happen nearly as much as it should. I mean, wouldn’t you think you were dreaming if some day you were driving to work during rush hour and all the people driving SUVs, Hummers, oversized pick-up trucks, and other urban assault vehicles yielded when the lanes were merging or didn’t speed up when you needed to change lanes, or just gave a wave of the hand in thanks when you yielded? Winning is the only thing tends to escalate competition to the point where it leads to tremendous stress and strain, whether we are talking about a softball game, a lawsuit, turning a corporate profit, or getting to work on time.

Because of our cultural focus on winning, of making winning the only thing, and the escalation of competition that accompanies it, I am coming to the conclusion that we do not actually live in a civilization anymore. Some years ago I coined a word for what I think our society is becoming: I call it a “competitivization” – a society where competition is the single most important and paramount feature of the culture, one where, increasingly, we act as if only winners matter and losers are soon forgotten. Competition in my view has simply swamped cooperation, and with it our sense of community, with one exception: people on the same team (‘us’) will cooperate against another team (‘them’). People complain that there is no sense of community anymore. Well, how in the world can there be when we emphasize so strongly the success of the individual, individual competition, winning, and have established such a strong win/lose and us/them society that we often don’t even act civilly to one another?

I’d like to shift gears here and look at another aspect of sports that I think has made its way into our culture, and not for the better. This is in the area of personal responsibility. What I suggest may not be as obvious as winning is the only thing, but see if it doesn’t ring true to you.

All sports have a referee or an umpire. In a sporting event, the players are used to allowing somebody else to take responsibility for what is right and wrong in the game. In this sense, in sports, the responsibility for playing by the rules has been externalized. While the player remains responsible for playing by the rules, he is not responsible for enforcing them. That role is delegated to the official. Players are not only encouraged to accept the judgment of an outside official on issues of fouls, in or out of bounds, and the like, the game requires that they do so. I think this externalization of responsibility has evolved to the point where players, ever eager and needing to win, have a mind set that allows them to feel comfortable if the official misses a call or botches a call that is in their favor because that is simply part of the game and the player need not take responsibility for it. And fans accept it too So while players, coaches, and fans will rant against calls that hurt their chances of wining, nobody complains when a blown call is in their favor. In fact, how weird would it have been if John McEnroe, infamous for his obnoxious arguments with officials who made calls he disagreed with, had argued just a vociferously if the umpire made a call that worked in his favor, even if he and everybody on his “side” knew it? That’s not his responsibility. If a call is missed, that responsibility lies with the official, not the player.

Now, you can talk about sportsmanship, and in the movie Bagger Vance, the golf pro calls a foul on himself, and thus costs himself the match, but when winning is the only thing, how can an ordinary person afford to call a foul on him or her self? Especially in the modern era when millions upon millions of dollars are at stake, if a receiver catches a game winning touchdown in the Superbowl, and he knows he was out of bounds, but the referee didn’t see it and the instant replays don’t show it, how can we ever expect him to fess up? Lots of people would think he was an idiot to fess up. Moreover, even more insidiously, it is simply not his job, don’t you see, to make that call. It’s the referee’s job and the player not only can, but must, abdicate personal responsibility to that referee. It’s not the player’s fault; it’s the referee’s.

I believe we have expanded this externalization of responsibility for our actions that is required on the playing field to culture in general to the point where we no longer see ourselves as the primary enforcer of the rules of the game, and moreover, if we break the rules and are not caught, then it’s not our fault. The fault lies with the referees, as it were, for failing to catch us.

I’d go so far as to say that in many ways, we have, as a culture, externalized responsibility for our actions to the point where many people act as if unless one is caught, then there is no harm. I mean, if the umpire blows a call, or misses a call, we accept it and move on with the game and it’s not the player’s responsibility to call a foul or an out of bounds on him or her self and fix it. So why not in life? After all, it’s the job of the police, or the SEC, or the FBI, or our boss, or our spouse, or somebody else, to discover our flaw, mistake, error, or violation. If they don’t, well, then let the game go on.

I have an expression for this phenomenon as well: I call it “no foul, no harm.” Anybody who has played pick-up sports knows the expression, “no harm, no foul.” It means that even if you technically broke the rules, we won’t stop play because what you did, did not affect the play. There was no harm. But now, many people seem to act like the rule should be “no foul, no harm.” The notion is that unless we are caught, then there is no harm’it’s just part of the game. The breaking of the rules becomes not so much an issue of character or ethics, but one of simple practicality. What matters is not how you played the game, but whether you were caught. And if you can break the rules in ways that allow you to have less chance of getting caught, so much the better. Let me sum this up with a question: If NFL linemen are taught how to hold without getting caught, something that many sports commentators not only claim, but seem to admire, then is it any wonder if our kids think it’s OK to cheat so long as you don’t get caught?

The attitude of winning at all costs, and with it, kicking up competition several notches, along with the externalization of responsibility for one’s actions, combine to create real problems for anybody who dislikes the culture of winning and wants to behave civilly, ethically, and do the right thing. The problem is that when everybody is playing by a set of rules that implicitly condones the notion that winning is the only thing, what do you do if winning means having to cheat, or behave belligerently, or hurt some kid from up the street, or ignore the rules? As was noted in the reading today from the New York Times, the problem of rampant breaking of the rules in order to win in a highly competitive market is being perceived in the business world as a real problem. When winning is the only thing, when competition gets out of hand, then whatever gives you a competitive advantage is OK. And if everybody else is doing it, then what choice do you have?

Look, what the writer of the Times’ business editorial I read earlier today is saying is no different in theory from one of us telling a policeman who has pulled us over for speeding that we were just going with the flow of traffic. Were you doing 80 in a 65 zone? Sure you were, but you have just externalized responsibility for breaking the speed limit. The traffic made me do it, you say. And you have a point’especially if all that traffic swooping past you makes you feel unsafe limping along at the posted speed limit. That’s why this is such a tough issue.

But let me raise the stakes. If the CEO of a major corporation says yes, I was breaking a few rules, but the market made me do it, are you going to be sympathetic to him or her? Are you going to cut him or her the same slack you cut yourself on the highway when you consciously decided to speed to keep up with the traffic? Probably not. But all that CEO was doing was conducting business with the flow of ethics and doing what was necessary to win.

Or, then again, you might say, with some cynicism, that his big mistake was getting caught. You might see this like the NFL linemen who are taught how to hold and decide that the CEO simply was not good enough and got caught’lost’which is the ultimate sin. I’ve heard many people in business, politics, and other non-sports environments say: “his big mistake was getting caught.” And I ask you: what’s up with that expression? It implies that it’s OK to cheat, to do whatever it takes to win, so long as we don’t get caught. It’s a perfect example of my expression,”no foul, no harm.” Everything is OK because we have externalized our responsibility for our choices. Everything is OK because winning is the only thing and this will help us win. I think that this, right here, is one of the real challenges of American culture.

Given these challenges, if we care about winning but don’t have any desire to compromise our principles and integrity in the process, what do we do? I’ll be blunt with you and say that in the absence of a cosmic umpire, it is sometimes very difficult to justify playing by the rules when nobody else does. It just depends on what ends up being important to you’which is, of course, very Unitarian. But I reiterate that if you decide to take a stand, if you believe that winning is not the only thing, that there are other things that matter just as much if not more, then you need to understand that doing the right thing can cost you’sometimes a lot’especially when everybody else, or nearly everybody else, is cheating and not just getting away with it, but is somehow, in a perverse way, encouraged to cheat by the very competitive environment we ourselves have created.

Those of you who know me, know I can’t do a sermon without a pop culture reference. So if you want to know what price sometimes has to be paid for doing the right thing, then I’d suggest you go see Spider-Man 2. The first hour of that film is about the following question: when you have great power and you take great responsibility as a result, what are the consequences? We see in the movie that being Spider-Man, of doing what’s right, takes a great toll on Peter Parker, who is failing school, being fired from his jobs, has let down his Aunt May, and has pushed the love of his life to the breaking point. Peter has a miserable life being Spider-Man, but he does the right thing, even at the risk of his life and happiness.

I don’t have any magic cure for this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. In fact, on some level, while I don’t necessarily recommend it, I think a reasonable person could sometimes decide that driving with the flow of traffic, as it were, is the best thing to do. After all, one of the single most potent images of fairness in our culture is the notion of the level playing field. And if enough people are cheating, and most everybody knows it, then cheating somehow becomes fair because it levels the playing field. But it also perpetuates and tends to escalate the cycle. Ultimately, while there may be short term gains, the long term outlook is bleak.

But because I simply cannot let myself end a sermon on a down note, let me conclude by suggesting some hope by way of an analogy. I think of being ethical and of doing the right thing in the same way that I think of recycling. No one person can make recycling work. But if everybody recycles even as little as one can a day, then suddenly, we have mountains of cans. Only almost nobody ever sees the mountains of cans; we simply have to have faith that they exist and thus resolve to do our part. I think the same thing applies here: we each have to make our small contributions to doing what’s right, being ethical, whatever that might be in any situation, and have faith that it matters in the larger scheme, even though none of us may ever see the mountain of cans.

But more than this, even if there is no mountain of cans, even if nobody else follows, we might just free ourselves a little bit from the belief that winning is the only thing. It isn’t you know and the belief that it is tends to have a corrupting and harmful influence on both individuals and society. But it sometimes takes real courage to find that out. It takes being willing to “lose once in a while for a deeper cause” including the cause of finding and honoring that champion all those coaches tell us lies inside each of us and winning beyond the scoreboard in a way that matters to us all.

Presented July 11, 2004

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Austin, Texas

Version 2: Expanded for Print

Copyright 2004 by Jim Checkley

All Rights Reserved

All Things Buffy

© Jim Checkley

August 3, 2003

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

SERMON

When Buffy the Vampire Slayer ended its seven-year run this past May, I knew I would make it the subject of a service. My first thought was to call it “Requiem for a Slayer.” But I quickly realized that Buffy did not need a mass for the dead, but rather a proclamation for the living. Because while Buffy the Vampire Slayer is ostensibly a show about the supernatural battle between good and evil, at its heart, it is really an exploration of all things human, a celebration of the best that we can be.

I’ve seen all the episodes of the series – some more than once. I saw most of them on Tuesday nights with my daughter Kathleen, who earlier sang for you the love ballad from the musical episode “Once More With Feeling.” She and I had a standing date for a number of years and watched the show together as she passed through her teen years. The show acted as a wonderful catalyst for our relationship during those years. Subjects like high school, dating, peer pressure, drugs, sex, friends, or lack thereof, rejection, personal responsibility, moral choices, loyalty, love, all these and more were explored on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Now I know it’s just a TV show, but Buffy the Vampire Slayer was special. And you don’t have to take my word for it. BTVS, as it’s known on the Internet, has generated over 2000 Internet sites, many of them devoted to the deeper aspects of the show. There are two scholarly books I am aware of: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy and Fighting the Forces: What’s at Stake in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Both are collections of essays by noted academics on subjects like philosophy, ethics, sociology and religion. I had a nice e-mail correspondence with one of the authors, a professor of philosophy, regarding issues of love and friendship on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and William James’ philosophy, in particular his “will to believe.” There’s even an Internet site called slayage.com where papers that didn’t make the books are posted for reading and comment – and more are posted all the time.

During the months leading to the series finale, people were coming out of the woodwork to praise BTVS. The Sunday Times had a spread written by a woman who did the TV beat for a Boston paper similar in spirit to our Austin Chronicle. I had to laugh – there probably wasn’t anybody at the blue-blood NY Times who knew enough about Buffy to write the piece. The Austin American Statesman also did a wrap-up piece, one that featured where the best parties were in town. That is where I copied the handout you received today. Buffy is the best show that wasn’t accepted by the mainstream – at least not until its demise.

Let’s face it, the name of the show does not inspire confidence and series creator Joss Whedon admits that the studio begged him to change the name, but he refused. Plus, Buffy the TV series was spawned from a rather mediocre 1992 movie of the same name. Joss Whedon wrote that movie too, but did not care for how it turned out. So when 20th Century Fox gave Whedon the opportunity to do Buffy on TV, he jumped at the chance.

And the difference was remarkable: the dialogue was hip, crisp, and articulate. Hillary, who has now seen two episodes and is a convert, asked me to emphasize the humor. There is humor, lots of humor, but the show took itself seriously enough that all the supernatural aspects were played straight up. That is, BTVS is not a spoof. This combination of wildly creative, supernatural material explored in an honest, straight forward way produced a marvelous canvas upon which to explore what it means to be human, and how to best live one’s life in the company of others. Amidst the demons and the vampires, the deep humanity of the show shined like a beacon. I have always said that science fiction and fantasy provide the best opportunity to explore our humanity. Buffy the Vampire Slayer proved the point with style and aplomb.

BTVS is a show primarily about teenagers as they moved through high school and college, but it was not just a teen show. The teen years are an intense time in our lives and during those years we make choices and experience events that set our path for much of the rest of our lives. And I frankly don’t get it when people reject out of hand shows or movies that focus on teens or the teen years. While it is obviously possible to portray the vapid, hormone driven side of teen life, and a lot of Hollywood producers do just that, it is also possible to use the teen years and the choices they present as a rich canvas to explore life and the struggle we all face to become the persons we want to be. In this sense Buffy is very real and taps into the deep emotions of growing into adulthood.

And here’s a surprise. We may fool ourselves into thinking that we only get or need to make fundamental choices once. But I don’t think that’s true. Chronologically at least, I am a middle-aged man, and yet I found myself time and again identifying with those teenagers and the choices that confronted them about how to live their lives. It turns out that I looked around to discover that my children are grown and my needs, goals, and hopes for the future were very, very different from when I was a teenager, or even in my thirties. I realized while watching Buffy that I too have fundamental choices to make about how I live the second half of life. This resonance with the teens on the show was often quite powerful and helped me to “think outside the box” about the rest of my life.

I have brought a prop with me today. Some assembly is required so give me a moment. Here, larger than life, is Buffy the Vampire Slayer – or at least her cardboard cutout. I don’t know if I should tell you this, but she was given to me by my son for Father’s Day. Now, of course, this a picture of Sara Michelle Gellar, the young woman who played Buffy. Pretty cute, huh? It’s easy to see why some people might assume that Buffy the Vampire Slayer is just another show about a scantily clad young thing and thus dismiss it. It also explains why I got so much grief from my colleagues and friends, and why my son, TJ, told me I was taking a risk doing this service.

But anybody who gets stuck on Buffy’s appearance is missing the entire point of the show. For underneath her Vogue and Maybelline exterior lies the heart and soul of a super hero. The whole point is that Buffy is not what she appears to be. The whole point is to get beyond stereotypes and superficial appearances and discovery what lies beneath. As I will discuss throughout the rest of this talk, what matters is who we are inside – our strength as a person – and the choices we make when confronted with the challenges of the world.

British psychologist Cynthia McVey says Buffy’s appeal as a character is that, while looking frail and girlish, she is deeply powerful. In this respect, Buffy has a lot in common with that celebrated British teenager, Harry Potter. Nobody would suspect that beneath those round glasses and slight build is a great wizard. Therein lies, I think, much of the appeal of Buffy and Harry with young people: those young people are hoping against hope that inside of them there is something or someone special, just like Buffy and Harry.

As a female super hero, Buffy belongs to the recent pop cultural movement that is entwined with the empowerment of women. We can start with Diana Rigg, who, as Mrs. Peel, was partners in the spy game with John Steed in the 1960s British TV series The Avengers (recently reprised by Uma Thurman), and more recently recall the likes of Wonder Woman, Ripley, Xena: Warrior Princess, La Femme Nikita, Charmed, Witchblade, Electra, Lara Croft, Dark Angel, Birds of Prey, the PowerPuff Girls, Charlie’s Angels, and Sidney Bristow of Alias. Our culture is currently flooded with images of outwardly powerful women.

And yes, Buffy the Vampire Slayer blows the lid off female stereotypes and the message is clear: women are as powerful and independent as men and deserve to be treated with just as much respect. But Buffy is not just an adolescent boy’s dream on steroids, someone who can fly through the air on wires and never get her make-up mussed, like some of the images out in our culture today, those that I call the “adolescent empowerment of women.” Buffy represents an “adult empowerment of women,” one that empowers on the inside as well as the outside and comes complete with responsibility, moral dilemmas, and a real person.

In adult empowerment, the power I am talking about goes beyond physical strength and magical abilities, although these are fun and admirable. Buffy – and several of her friends – are powerful in this way, of course, but the power I am talking about is the power inside, the power of the heart and the will. Buffy, many times with the help of her friends, overcomes obstacles that would crush most of us. And often it is not Buffy’s supernatural powers that save the day. They are a mere instrumentality. What saves the day is Buffy’s dedication and indomitable will.

For example, at the end of the first season, Buffy discovers that an infallible prophecy says that the Master Vampire will kill her on Prom Night. Her initial reaction is to want to run away, of course, and she asks her mother if they can go away for the weekend. But after her fiend Willow discovers some boys at the high school who have been horribly killed by the gathering vampires, Buffy changes her mind. Willow, shaken, and lying in bed, tells Buffy:

I’m not OK. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be okay. I knew those guys. I go to that room every day. And when I walked in there, it was… it wasn’t our world anymore. They made it theirs. And they had fun. What are we going to do?

Buffy answers simply: “What we have to.” In that moment, Buffy decides to confront the Master even knowing that it will mean she is going to die. Those moments of courage and responsibility go beyond any external strength or beauty. She then confronts the Master and is killed. Only this is TV, and so she drowns, and, as luck would have it, is revived by one of her friends who knows CPR, and comes back stronger than ever to ultimately defeat the Master.

You see, while the Buffyverse is supernatural, the lessons are not. The lessons touch us in the most real ways possible. This is one of the great truths about how we interact with our stories, whether they are from the Bible, other scriptures, mythology, or, yes, even television. We will translate the lessons to our lives and to our hearts, if those lessons – even if they are in a supernatural setting, an unreal setting, an impossible setting – if those lessons touch our souls.

Moreover, the lessons from Buffy are positive lessons, including self-reliance, self-knowledge, and self-exploration. Let me give you one example, my favorite example, among many. At the end of Season Two, in the two part season finale I think is Buffy’s best, Buffy loses everything she cares about in her life as a consequence of her battle against evil. She is kicked out of school, kicked out of her home by her mother who cannot accept her calling as the Slayer, she loses her friends, is accused of murder, and must, in the final analysis, literally send the man she loves to hell in order to save the world.

At the absolute nadir of the episode, when all seems lost, the evil vampire Angelus approaches a fallen and apparently beaten Buffy and says: “So that’s everything, huh? No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away and what’s left?” “Me,” says Buffy as she catches his sword just before it would have killed her. What’s left is me. Self-reliance. Self-confidence. Self-esteem. No Ophelia Complex here. From that point, Buffy battles back, and at great cost to herself, does what is right, what needs to be done. For seven years Buffy always battled back, always had the will and resolve to do what was right, always did what needed to be done. I can’t think of a more positive lesson whether you are a man or a woman. I can’t think of a more positive empowerment for a human being.

I only have a few minutes left and there are any number of things I could talk about, but let me talk about an overarching theme: the power of choice. Because in a world where beings are defined by what they are – demon, human, slayer, vampire – it turns out that the most important aspect of life is the power to choose.

Have Yourself a Very August Christmas

© Jim Checkley

4 August 2002

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

SERMON

When I told my friend John I was doing another service, he asked, “What about?” I told him I had always wanted to do a service called “Christmas in July” and was finally going to do it – albeit in August. His reaction was quick and decisive: “Oh Jim, don’t do that.” “Why not?” I asked. “Because it is a clich”,” he said. ‘too late,” I said. “I”ve already sent in my blurb for the newsletter.” There was silence on the phone. “Oh no,” he said finally. Then he quickly added, “I’m sure you’ll be OK.”

Well, that remains to be seen”I will be making some fairly radical suggestions in a while. But part of the reason I wanted to talk about Christmas, and do it at a time when we are removed from the effects of the holiday – both euphoric and toxic – is precisely because so much about Christmas has become a clich”, or worse, a bah humbug. The Christmas season presents us all with challenges both practical and spiritual, and that is what I”d like to talk to you about today.

Speaking of bah humbug, lately I”ve been focused on stories as they define culture and provide meaning to our lives. And I”ve been thinking about our Christmas stories, especially the ones we’ve created since Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol. Besides the stories of St. Nicholas – we’ll deal with him later – what popular Christmas stories have we created in our culture?

Being a child of the 60s, the first one I thought of was A Charlie Brown’s Christmas. This is basically the story of a misfit boy and his misfit tree. The most enduring feature might be Vince Giraldi’s theme music. There’s Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. How many here know how Rudolph came into our culture? Rudolph and his animated television special – also from the sixties – have outlived his creator. Montgomery Ward, now bankrupt and gone from the retail markets, introduced Rudolph to the world in the 1930s as a marketing tool. And then there’s The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. My memory is of the 60s animated TV show, with Boris Karloff as the narrator, although Jim Carry played the Grinch in the recent film.

Then there are movies like Home Alone – a violent though comedic piece set during the Christmas season. And speaking of violence during Christmas, there are Die Hard and Die Hard II, both set during the Christmas season. In fact, in Die Hard, after Bruce Willis and his pal kill the bad guys, but not before those bad guys kill some hostages and blow up a building, and while bearer bond certificates float down from the sky, the end credits begin with a rendition of “Let it Snow.” Frankly, I cannot invent a better image of what Christmas has become in our culture than that: money – not just money – bearer bonds’s nowing down from the sky while the triumphant heroes get in their cars leaving death and destruction in their wake. Now that is an American Christmas!

If a culture is defined by its stories, then ours is often pretty sick. But you already knew that. But what you may not have thought about is the fact that all of these stories – including Dickens – have (with one tiny exception) nothing to do with the meaning of Christmas. I make a distinction here between the meaning of Christmas and the spirit of Christmas. The meaning of Christmas is the birth of the Christ child. Period. The spirit of Christmas is how we feel about the season. The spirit of Christmas is about joy and glad tidings and parties and gifts and time off from work and drinking the finest liquor and seeing heroic truth justice and the American way movies and stuff like that. Our Christmas culture is like a James Bond martini’the tapestry of our cultural images feels like it has been shaken, not stirred.

Even in American culture, however, as bad as it is in many ways, Christmas has its moments. In fact, it has many moments. We all have wonderful memories of Christmas somewhere in our hearts. One year when I was a kid, we got our tree early (in my family, we often got the Charlie Brown tree on Christmas Eve), had it all decorated, and I got a robot toy called Mr. Machine. I had really wanted it and I was overjoyed when it was there on Christmas morning. But looking back, the best part was there was no stress that year, none of the terrible pressure that Christmas often puts on parents and families to be happy, giving, cheerful, and a little – or a lot – materialistic. Talk about performance anxiety. The Christmas season excels at inducing it, that’s for sure. But for this one time, it felt like we were in the spirit of Christmas as we were taught it should be. My favorite Christmases as an adult were when my own kids were young and I had survived cancer and having both hips operated on, and I was living vicariously through them.

I say living vicariously because for me Christmas was often more a dark time than a time of light and joy. I don’t do Christmas trees; the kids and I have a Christmas fern. And as you might gather from my talk thus far, the whole Christmas season as currently practiced in our culture leaves me not just cold, but a little bitter and a whole lot sad. I know I am not alone in those feelings. Indeed, many people feel far worse than I do. I know that because both the incidence of depression and the suicide rate go up during the Christmas season.

Christmas is a very powerful holiday that gets to you one way or another. I said in my newsletter blurb that it gets in our pores whether we are fer it or agin” it. And I sincerely believe that is true. I sometimes think that as we approach the Winter Solstice and the end of the year, the gestalt and ambience of Christmas itself causes us to look deeper at ourselves and our society and often we don’t like what we see. But I am even more inclined to think that a lot of the negativity is a function of culturally imposed expectation “why isn’t my holiday season like the Walton’s?” and the stark contrasts with reality that result at the edges of life. Misery loves company, and it is truly miserable to be miserable when society and family and friends tell us ’tis the season to be jolly. That really hurts.

And this explains in large part why Christmas is both the best and worst of times. Dickens had in mind the French revolution when he penned those words. I’m talking about the

Christmas season, which, emotionally and psychologically, at least, is just as powerful a time. And that time is getting longer and longer.

I used to get mad at stores that put up Christmas displays before Thanksgiving. In the 70s and 80s I had a policy of not patronizing those stores. Well, if I put that policy in place today, I would have virtually no place to shop. Christmas has become such a huge economic imperative that it is almost a year long undertaking. Christmas is a global secular holiday. Talk about getting out of the way of a freight train.

I have a report I found on the Internet called 2001 Christmas Sales in Major Overseas Markets and Retail Outlook for 2002. Here are a few choice excerpts: – the 2001 Christmas sales situation in Hong Kong’s major overseas markets commands special attention…” I caught you, didn’t I? You thought the report was about markets overseas from the United States. This report, based in Hong Kong, talks about sales in Europe, the US, Asia, even Japan and contains this interesting sentence: “In Japan, Christmas sales were not encouraging.” I guess not. I shouldn’t say this but I can’t resist: do you suppose Japanese children would write letters to “shinto Claus.” And how about this one for confirming the rise of Christmas as a world wide secular holiday: “While Christmas is not traditionally celebrated across the Chinese mainland, it has begun to catch on in more sophisticated urban cites. A growing number of retailers have started to promote the festive season by putting up Yule-tide decorations and offering discounts on related merchandise in the hope of boosting year-end sales.”

In the US, many merchants count on Christmas shopping for up to 25% of their sales and 50% of their profits. Thus, every item of commerce imaginable has become grist for the Christmas mill – power tools, vitamins, electronics, magazine subscriptions, pet accessories, furniture, carpet cleaning – you name it, I”ve seen a TV commercial for it. And the madness goes beyond mere retail sales.

My favorite example of the American business spirit of Christmas is a Federal Express ad in the Wall Street Journal in the late 1980s. It was a full page ad that compared business to war and made the argument that if a General moves his troops during a truce, he gets an advantage in the war. Well, said FedEx, a good business person knows that you can’t just sit around idly during Christmas. Packages need delivering. Advantages need to be claimed. So, like Santa,

FedEx is going to work on Christmas Eve and deliver on Christmas Day. Because even on Christmas, FedEx knows you have to get it there overnight.

In one ad we get business compared to war, FedEx compared to Santa, and the reality based notion that only an idiot would consider not doing business on Christmas. Scrooge would be so very proud.

Christmas has become so commercial, so ubiquitous, that both it and its economic symbol, Santa Claus, have been declared to be secular by the federal courts.

A couple of years ago a Cincinnati attorney named Richard Ganulin filed suit in federal court in an effort to have the federal government’s recognition of Christmas as a national holiday declared unconstitutional as an impermissible establishment of religion. Federal District Court Judge Susan Dlott disagreed with Ganulin and dismissed his lawsuit declaring that there were “legitimate secular purposes for establishing Christmas as a legal public holiday.” Judge Dlott issued her ruling in part as a poem. While it’s not The Night Before Christmas, I wanted to read you a verse or two:

The court will address

 Plaintiff’s seasonal confusion

 Erroneously believing of Christmas

 MERELY a religious intrusion.

The court will uphold

 Seemingly contradictory causes

 Decreeing “the establishment” AND “santa”

 Both worthwhile CLAUS(es).

We are all better for Santa

 The Easter Bunny too

 And maybe the great pumpkin

 To name but a few!

There is room in this country

 And in all our hearts too

 For different convictions

 And a day off too!

So we have a federal court flatly stating that Santa Claus is a secular rather than religious symbol and that Christmas itself is enough of a secular event to avoid any entanglements with the establishment clause of the Constitution.

I suspect many of us in the sanctuary today have problems with the commercialism of Christmas, with the hectic nature of the season, the unreasonable expectations, the cultural pressures. But we UUs have another problem with Christmas. It is a fundamental problem faced by many religious people, but not in the odd way we do. Although Unitarian Universalism is considered a Christian sect, by definition we reject the notion that Jesus was the Son of God and that he was sent by the Father to save mankind through a substitutionary salvation. Unitarian does not mean we are looking for one world government.

I don’t know about you, but this situation has always puzzled me. Jews don’t believe in the divinity of Christ and they simply don’t celebrate Christmas. Yet somehow, we Unitarians want to have our cake and eat it too. We disavow that Jesus was the Christ, but still have a candlelight Christmas Eve service. If we’re just celebrating the birthday of an important guy or the season, then why don’t we celebrate Sir Isaac Newton’s birthday?

Isaac Newton was born on December 25th, something we are certain is not the case for Jesus. In fact, this (fictional) coincidence of birth inspired Newton throughout his life and he felt that it was a sign from God that he was meant to be a giant among men. Back in my undergraduate chemistry days, we used to put a big banner along the halls of the chemistry department that read: Happy Newton’s Birthday! On the last day before winter break, we would have a birthday cake and drink punch and sing Sir Isaac happy birthday in absentia.

Although we had a good time and reveled in the goof on society we had invented, it would not be fair in any sense to say we had come up with a substitute religious holiday for Christmas. We merely changed the focus of the day.

So where does that leave most thinking UUs? We reject the divinity of Christ and hence the inherent meaning of Christmas. And we, as much as any sensitive, thinking people, reject Santa and the economic hold that Christmas has on the world. Yet at the same time, we all yearn for the hope, happiness, and joy we felt as kids and sometimes, almost by accident it seems, experience as adults.

I”ve been thinking for some years that there may be a way to reclaim the Christmas season in a way that will make it more meaningful for us. I hope you will find my suggestions helpful, recognizing that Christmas is an emotional and psychological battleship that is slow to turn.

My plan involves doing something that I spoke about in a theoretical sense in my last service – creating new stories that speak to us today in order to provide both context and meaning to our lives. Because, you see, the energy is already there. Christmas has more energy than you’d care to shake a stick at. That energy makes the Christmas season the perfect place to start to invent new stories, new mythologies, new ways of seeing ourselves and our lives.

I honestly believe that Christmas Day itself is too far gone to salvage. It is an economic juggernaut and my advice is to just get out of the way. But there is a holiday that can be salvaged. And it falls just twelve days after Christmas: the Epiphany.

The Epiphany, celebrated on January 6, is the day that the three wise men arrived at the manger, guided by the Christmas Star, declared Jesus to be the Christ child, and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their arrival marks the end of the real twelve days of Christmas, not the last 12 shopping days before Christmas Day that Madison Avenue wants you to believe.

The Epiphany is a day all but lost in our culture, although it was and continues to be an important holiday in the Russian and Greek Orthodox churches and in other Christian countries. In fact, when I talked about this service with a number of people, I found that a surprising number of them did not know what the Epiphany is.

I know about the Epiphany because my uncle was a Russian Orthodox priest. When I was a kid, I used to sometimes be an altar boy with my cousins, especially around the Christmas season, when services were crowded and my uncle could use the help. My family always celebrated the Epiphany and we did not take our Christmas tree down until January 7. Of course, by then it was a fire hazard and the object of ridicule by the neighborhood kids, most of whom had taken down their trees either right after Christmas Day or right after New Year’s . So I have practical experience with the holiday, experience that convinces me that the Epiphany contains considerable meaning that we can mine and use for our own lives.

The Epiphany, not Christmas Day, is the real religious holiday. Until the wise men arrived and revealed to the world that this infant was the Christ child, Jesus was just another poor kid in the manger. The word epiphany means to reveal or recognize that which is already there, but which we cannot or do not yet see. There is a universal aspect to the epiphany, beyond the manifestation of Christ to the Magi. And that is simply this: it represents the recognition of the light within all of us, whether you call it divine or simply the spark of life. While we do not believe that Jesus was god, many of us believe that we all – him included – have the divine within us. As Robert Heinlein said in Stranger in a Strange Land: “I am god, thou art god, and all that groks is God.”

Here is a ready made myth that is overripe for the taking by Unitarians. What is more Unitarian than a holiday that reminds us that we all have a light inside ourselves, a light that must be uncovered and revealed to the world in order for us to be fully human and perhaps approach the divine?

And here is another benefit. For the first time in 16 services I am actually going to talk about one of our Seven Principles beyond noting they exist. Our very first principle states that we believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person. During the Christmas season, we can honor this principle by first, reminding ourselves of the spark within ourselves, and second, by honoring it within others.

In the first instance, we can connect with – or perhaps find for the first time’the divine spark within our own hearts and souls. Of course, none of us is a king; and none of us is the Christ. But we are all aware, spiritual beings. We all have a light inside of us, however you choose to describe it, and when we reveal it to ourselves at the Epiphany, we are reminding ourselves that we, like Jesus, are sons and daughters of the cosmos. Once we have revealed our light to ourselves, then we can follow the words of Jesus who said that one does not light a lantern and then put it under a box. Our light must be nurtured and allowed to grow and to illuminate ourselves and the world around us. We can use the Epiphany to remind us of that important task.

The wise men gave gifts to Jesus because he was the King of the Jesus and they worshipped him because he was the Christ. And the gifts they gave him were the gifts of a king: gold, frankincense and myrrh. The spiritual aspect of gift giving, then, is that it is a tangible demonstration of the worth and dignity of the other person. So when we give gifts to each other at Christmas, it should be for a better reason than to make housework easier or to accumulate stuff in the “whoever dies with the most toys wins” mode.

The best reason I can think of to give gifts at Christmas is to demonstrate to the person to whom you are giving that he or she is important, that he or she matters to you, that you are not just thinking of him or her, but will honor their individuality, and that they, like Jesus, deserve to be given a gift. In our society gift giving has gone from a special gift that symbolized the gifts of the magi, to trying to outdo each other in a materialistic shark feeding. My kids used to have so many boxes from relatives, and to be fair, us, their parents. that their mother and I decided to hold some back and dole them out over the year. There is something wrong, I think, with kids having 30 boxes waiting for them under the tree.

Here is where the thought really counts. The why of Christmas gift giving has been lost in a crass commercialism that knows no bounds. You are a daughter of the cosmos, my friend, my lover, I will honor you today with a gift of – a blender? See, it doesn’t work. Not if you are trying to connect to this universal truth I am talking about and our first UU principle. And just to be fair, it doesn’t work for a three-quarter inch drill either. If gift giving at Christmas is to have any meaning, the gifts we give must be the gifts of the human spirit, of the light that shines within all of us. On this day, at least, and for one special gift, at least, let the thought be noble, the heart pure, and the gift divine.

So, in the practice what you preach department, this is my proposal. Follow Jesus’ advice and render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s. I have abandoned Christmas day to the merchants. It really has no meaning for Unitarians anyway, and I think in popular culture it lost whatever meaning it had as a spiritual holiday long ago. December 25 has for millennia been a day that belonged much more to Caesar than to God. If we can believe its press, it started out as a pagan bacchanalian festival – we, in our capitalist bottom line society have simply perfected it.

The spiritual meaning of the season and I think, the Unitarian meaning, might be recaptured by allowing December 25th to instead mark the beginning of a 12 day reflective period. Twelve is a magic number in many cultures, so we can keep it as part of the new story. Then December 25th can become a symbolic beginning of the quest to understand who we are and to find the sacred within us. The period in between, which now is just a stretch of dead time until New Year’s Day, will allow us time to think about and be quiet with this most important of spiritual subjects.

And then, on January 6th, let us celebrate the Epiphany, the revealing of that which was already there, and rediscover, rekindle, and reveal the light of life within us all. Then we may rededicate ourselves to honor that discovery within ourselves and allow – no insist that – the light inside shine outward the entire year through. And in conjunction with transforming this inner discovery into an outward expression of love, compassion, connection, and simply being, I suggest we use the giving of gifts to acknowledge the light in others with a gift from the heart and soul, a gift that honors the light in the other, a gift bought during the symbolic twelve day journey of discovery, and thus a gift that allows us to beat Caesar at his own game by buying it during the secular after Christmas sales.

I even think it would be nice if Unitarian churches thought about celebrating the Epiphany with its own service of light. Instead of celebrating the godhood of Christ, however, we would celebrate the spark of the divine within us all. After all, we UUs have a Christmas Eve candle light service. Frankly, it feels even more appropriate to me for us to have a candle light service on the Epiphany. The candles are obvious symbols of the light of life we carry within us, of the divine light the wise men revealed in Jesus.

The power of Christmas is undeniable. That power reflects our deep longing to know who we are, where we came from, and what is the best way to live and connect to one another. This is my suggestion for taking the energy of Christmas, so much of which is either lost to us or has become negative, and transforming it into our energy through a new story and a new commitment to ourselves and each other. If we can do that, then perhaps we can all have a very august Christmas indeed.

 


Presented August 4, 2002

 

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Austin, Texas

Revised for Print

Copyright – 2002 by Jim Checkley

A Most Unlikely Unitarian

© Jim Checkley

8 July 2001

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

It’s the summer time, and when we are young, anyway, it is a time of simple play. And yet, when I think about being Unitarian, “simple” and “play” are two words which don’t really jump out at me to define who we are. In one of those wonderfully irrational moments of clarity that happen from time to time, I recognized in a rather famous character a cartoon-like mirror of us – or at least the more parochial us – and just knew I had discovered the jumping-off point for a service. So this Sunday, in hopefully a lighthearted way befitting the season, we will explore ourselves through the example of this most unlikely of Unitarians, a veritable self-proclaimed super- genius, whose very essence, and lifelong behavior, more than qualify for admission to our denomination.

I love comic books and cartoons. Reading comics and watching cartoons is a pleasure I have not – and hope I never will – grow out of. When I was young, I had a paper route which supplied me with more than enough money to indulge my comic book passions. There was a place on Main Street in Passaic, New Jersey, called the Passaic Book Center. In the late-sixties I was there at least once a week buying primarily comic books, science fiction paperbacks, and various cinema and monster magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland. Those were some of the happiest days of my life.

In those days of stone knives and bear skins, we didn’t have cable TV with channels like Nickelodeon and the Cartoon Network. TV was broadcast and even just outside of New York City in New Jersey where I grew up, we only had the three networks and a few independents. Neither did we have videotapes or DVDs or the Internet. So there were basically only two ways to watch cartoons: either on TV, and there mostly on Saturday and Sunday mornings, or sometimes at the movie theater on the weekend before a feature film. I cherished my cartoon time and actually seeing a cartoon at the movies was a real thrill.

In case you can’t tell, I was then, and still am, an animation junkie. With our computer technology, today’s animation technically far outstrips that of the past. But I still have a deep fondness for the old cartoons. And among my all time favorite cartoons was the Road Runner with his perpetual antagonist, Wile E. Coyote.

Wile E. Coyote is one of my two or three favorite cartoon characters of all time. He has been chasing after the Road Runner for decades. The set-up for the cartoons was always the same: Wile E. would try his best to capture the speedy, elusive, and almost mystically lucky Road Runner. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how clever the trap he set or sophisticated and complicated the devices he used, Wile E. always failed. Always. And yet, I, and millions of others, fell in love with Wile E Coyote. And although we may not have ever wanted him to actually catch the Road Runner (well maybe just once!), we certainly did not want to see him fail. But fail he did, gloriously, constantly, and in ways that simply astonished and delighted us.

I had no idea then that Wile E. would someday inspire me to do a church service focused on him and his escapades with the Road Runner. But one day recently, I had this odd revelation that Wile E. Coyote, self-proclaimed super genius and absolutely, hands-down, the world’s worst predator, would be my candidate as the most unlikely of Unitarians. In that moment I saw in Wile E. so much that I see in myself and many of us in our denomination and decided it was too good a vision to pass up. Because as amusing as my thesis may be, I hope today to show you that there is also something equally profound.

Wile E. was always plotting behind Road Runner’s back, but I prefer to talk about him as if he were here with us today. So here we have Mr. Wile E. Coyote, or at least a bean bag version of him. The Latin name for coyote is Canis latrans, but for today, and for our purposes, we will refer to Wile E. as Toomuchus Intellectualis, although we could just as easily refer to him as Pitifulis Predatorus, because both his high IQ and his abysmal record as a predator provide us with insights into ourselves and our lives.

And although the focus today is on Wile E., we must not ignore the Road Runner. I couldn’t find a bean-bag Road Runner, so my daughter, Kathleen, kindly painted his picture for me. He’s just a little guy, but is fast as lightning. His Latin name is Geococcyx californianus, but for today, and for our purposes, we will refer to him as Veritas Elusivaris, that is, the elusive Truth. Road Runner has eluded Wile E. for over fifty years often through sheer speed, but also through a good luck streak that borders on the supernatural. Like any good symbol of Truth, Road Runner doesn’t say much except “Beep Beep,” and is in most ways totally inscrutable. And although the notion of the Road Runner as mystic will have to wait for another day, for today, at least, I want you to bear with me and view our friend Wile E. here as a most unlikely Unitarian in search of that most elusive of prey, the Truth.

By the Truth, I mean that which resonates with our souls and provides us with meaning in our lives and makes us feel like it is worth getting up in the morning and worth living. We all have different truths – today I am talking about the one you seek.

Now you might be asking yourself, what credentials does Wile E. have that gives him credence as a Unitarian? Well, first of all, we have no idea what Wile E. Coyote believes – which makes him perfect for Unitarian Universalism. That really wasn’t fair, I guess, but the fact is that we are a creedless church and what each one of us believes is a matter of personal conscience. Yes, we have our principles, and they are printed each week in our order of service. But those principles do not dictate that we believe that X or Y is or is not true.

But even more importantly, we know that Wile E. is most proud of his amazing intellect and places rational intellect over emotion and other ways of dealing with the world, and isn’t that at the heart of the Unitarian movement? Aren’t we famous for being the great religious rationalists? We differ from traditional religion with the latter’s emphasis on revealed truth and the necessity to have faith and belief in that truth no matter how far removed it may be from our empirical understandings of the world and our place in it. If we believed in revealed truth then we wouldn’t have to be running around like Wile E. Coyote trying to capture it – it would be served up to us on a silver platter. But on some level, I think, our love affair with the rational intellect goes beyond our demand that our religious truth be consistent – and perhaps more than that – with scientific truth.

I have been going to Unitarian churches for twenty-five years and it has always seemed to me that we claim every smart person who has ever lived as Unitarian. And if we’re not sure, then at the least we claim they were “closet Unitarians.” I went on the Internet and found – within minutes – several Unitarian sites which provided list after list of famous Unitarian Universalists. Politicians, scientists, philosophers, social workers, you name it. And I had a revelation: We brag on the famous in our ranks in much the same way that other religions brag on their version of revealed truth. So I think I am within my rights to claim Wile E. Coyote for the ranks of Unitarianism. He is, after all, a self-proclaimed super genius, is quite famous, and his beliefs are, to be kind, unclear to us. I would say he is perfect for the position.

But wait a minute. If Wile E. is so smart, how come he has never caught the Road Runner? This is a good question, a seminal question, and the one that brought me here before you today.

The simple answer is that Wile E. makes everything complicated and in the process thinks himself out of a meal. Wile E. is incapable of merely catching the Road Runner. He has to use some intellectual artifice, some Rube Goldberg contraption, to catch his prey. So instead of just grabbing the Road Runner when he is standing out on the road, Wile E. uses his Acme Rocket Sled to try to cut the Road Runner off at the pass. He devises complicated traps which depend on magnetic bird seed and quick opening Star Trek-like steel doors. He constructs or purchases complicated devices that would make any Aggie engineer proud. And then he fails. Time and again.

And he doesn’t just fail. He fails miserably. Who can ever forget the image of Wile E. Coyote suspended in mid-air, a look of sad resignation on his face as he pitifully waves good-bye, and then with a high pitch whistle, falls to the desert floor and crashes with a muffled but sickening thud? Whether flattened like a pancake, scorched and burned to a golden black crisp, or squished like an accordion, our resident genius Mr. Coyote is left scratching his head – assuming he can still move his arms – wondering what went wrong.

Unitarians – and many others – believe that if we are smarter, then we will get to the Truth faster. I have nothing against being smart. It’s a good thing. But don’t we sometimes, like Wile E., tend to construct complicated intellectual paradigms or buy into far out or marginal theories in our such for Truth? Honestly, when we look back over our lives and the methods and fruits of our spiritual quests, how often do we discover we believed we could find the Truth using the equivalent of an Acme Rocket Belt only to end up, like Wile E., crashed into the side of a mesa? I want to suggest that like Wile E., we sometimes lose ourselves in our complicated intellectualisms and paradigms and in the process, we miss the Truth. You know, we laugh today at mediaeval philosophers who argued about such arcane topics as how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, or whether God – all powerful and omnipotent creator – can make a four sided triangle. But are we much different than they were when we rely on intellectual artifice or extreme and complicated theories to capture the Truth?

Over seven hundred years ago, William of Ockham wondered about these same issues within the context of a medieval culture caught in the thrall of the sometimes wildly weird pronouncements of the Roman Catholic Church. His law of parsimony, also known as Ockham’s Razor, became a cannon in the development of science and even today exercises great influence on scientists as they grapple with explanations for the workings of the universe. But Ockham’s Razor is much more than a rule to apply to scientific theories. The notion that all things being equal, the simplest answer is usually the best, if not the right, answer is one that comes into play in almost everything we do – including the quest for Truth. I think you would agree with me that Wile E. Coyote can use a little razoring in his approach to catching the Road Runner. It is a lesson I know I need to remind myself of all the time in my own life.

I don’t mean to pick on Wile E. and just focus on the negative. Indeed, one of the things that Wile E. teaches us is that what matters, ultimately, at least as much as success, is the character of the attempt. One of the reasons Wile E. is beloved is that he is sincere in his quest, never gives up, and despite his boasts that he is a super-genius, suffers the humiliations of the universe (and the Road Runner) with equanimity and grace – if you can call walking into the sunset with an accordion body waving in the breezes graceful. It is precisely because we identify with Wile E. and his quest, and recognize his sincerity, that we love him. Is there a better lesson to learn in life than to persevere in the face of persistent failure, to remain at peace with yourself and the universe, and to try your best, despite the odds?

And yet, while we may admire Wile E. for his perseverance and character, we wonder about his methods. It has been said that the very definition of neurosis is to repeat the same behavior over and over again, each time expecting a different result. Wile E. qualifies under this definition as he tries one after another of his contraptions, each time with the same result, and yet each time believing that the next attempt will succeed. If we acknowledge that Wile E. is smart – and we do – then we have to wonder what is going on here. Because as easy as it is to conclude that Wile E. has simply gotten caught up in his own complexity, it is puzzling to see him rely on the same methods, the same behavior, the same misplaced hopes, time and time again. It’s not like the universe hasn’t been sending him the message that the bombs, the rocket sleds, and the spring powered shoes, aren’t working. It has. But he is stuck repeating familiar behavior, hoping for a different outcome – a condition I suspect many of us today can identify with.

I think it is difficult to try something new, whether you are Wile E. Coyote trying to catch the Road Runner, or you are an ordinary person trying to make sense of the world. Wile E. is so committed to his intellect as the path to his salvation, that it never even occurs to him that maybe there is another way. His search for the right device, the right tool, causes him to escalate his attempts, both in terms of complexity and creativity – for Wile E. is nothing if not creative. But he either never sees – or never has the courage – to try another way. Because it takes courage to seek our own Truth, and to try new behavior in hopes of a different outcome.

Don’t we all sometimes do the same thing? Whether it is being stuck in a job we hate or the habits we bring to a relationship or even the way we find pleasure in our lives, how often do we repeat the same behavior, thinking that if this time we can just fix this or that little thing, or make

this or that a little better, then everything will be different only to discover, once again, that it is the same?

My favorite anecdotal example of this behavior is our diets. We try diet after diet, many of them as funny and complicated in their own way as Acme Rocket Sleds, remote controlled aerial bombs, and spring loaded shoes. We convince ourselves that if we eat nothing but cabbage soup, or substitute pickles for ice cream, or don’t eat any carbohydrates, or eat nothing but carbohydrates, except on alternate Tuesdays when the moon is full, we will lose weight and look just like the beautiful people in the ads. But it never works. And yet there we are, going from diet to diet each time expecting a different result. William of Ockham would tell us that we simply need to eat less and exercise more. But no, not us. We have to complicate things with multicolored cards and counting systems that would make a Las Vegas gambler squeal. I sometimes think we Unitarians tend to do the same thing with our search for meaning and spiritual truth that we do with diets and other aspects of our lives.

And then what does Wile E. finally do when all his grandiose plans fail? According to Ian Frazier, like any good red-blooded modern American, Wile E. puts the blame for the failure of his complex intellectual plan to capture Road Runner not on himself, but on Acme.

I mean, what could be more American, more rational, than for Wile E. to sue Acme for damages? And he has good reason, doesn’t he? After all, no Acme product purchased by Wile E. Coyote has worked as advertised in more than half a century. But although those devices were defective, I for one have little sympathy for anybody who would actually strap on a pair of Acme Rocket Skates and blast through the dessert at 200 miles per hour thinking everything will turn out roses. Sounds to me sort of like putting scalding hot coffee between your legs as you drive.

Although Acme may have sold Wile E. defective products, I am of the belief that Acme is not responsible for Wile E.’s failure to catch the Road Runner. There is another, more interesting, possibility that I want to explore. I think it is possible that Wile E.’at some subconscious level – really doesn’t want to catch the Road Runner. I think it is possible that he is actually sabotaging himself. Now I am not trying to impugn Wile E.’s integrity. Not at all. But think about it: in 50-odd years, he has never caught the Road Runner? Come on. Talk about being a pitiful predator. I happen to think there is more here than just defective rocket belts and catapults. I think this goes much deeper than that.

I think the reason Wile E. Coyote has become such a poor predator is the quest has become the meaning in his life and if he actually caught the Road Runner, that meaning would be lost. What I mean here is that the quest, the search, the attempt, is what gets Wile E. up in the morning, it is what drives his spirit and his intellect, it is the very essence of his life. The accomplishment of the goal – getting a good meal – has long ago taken a back seat to the quest itself.

It’s easy to see how this might happen. Just imagine you are Wile E. Coyote and you feel deep in your bones that if you actually catch this Road Runner creature, fulfill your avowed quest, then the cartoon will be over. The world as you knew it would be gone and your life would be transformed in ways you could scarcely imagine. What might you do with this internal conflict? Even if only subconsciously, might you not invest the quest with your emotional energy, with your intellectual energy, and find in it the meaning and substance for your life and in the process make sure you never caught the Road Runner?

I believe that a similar dilemma often faces us in our own search for understanding and truth. I think it is sometimes tremendously difficult and takes a lot of courage to truly put yourself on the line when it come to embracing and being engaged with issues of the spirit, the Truth as I have been referring to it. Because actually facing and embracing the Truth can be a dangerous thing. Any real encounter with Truth will transform us, sometimes in ways we neither understand nor are able to anticipate. That prospect of transformation, even though we may say we want it on an intellectual level, requires us to change and often to give up some part of ourselves – in some real sense allow a part of us to die – and to then leave our comfort zones and change the way we behave. And what is more scary than that?

We often hear that the journey is more important than the destination. I agree that sometimes it is – but only so long as it is the journey that is transforming. But what I am talking about here is not transforming at all and actually allows us to maintain the status quo and keep the transformative power we say we are searching for at least at arms length. When the quest becomes a way to provide meaning in our lives without ever really opening the door to the possibility of true change by actually finding, embracing, and believing in something we find to be true and real, it has become our shield, our suit of armor against change, the ever elusive notion of Truth always just outside our grasp or down the next path.

These notions have special meaning for Unitarians because we have no creed and what we believe is really up to us and our personal consciences. While this is one of the fundamental reasons I am a Unitarian, this circumstance does place each of us in a much more uncertain and difficult place than having a set of beliefs mandated by the church. So thinking about Wile E. and his quest for the Road Runner got me to wondering whether any of us Unitarians ever use the phrase ‘I am searching after Truth,’ as a code for the notion that so long as we are engaged in the search, then we don’t need to actually risk believing in something, we don’t have to make a choice. We can revel in the excitement and safety of the quest forever.

There is something deep and universal here that defies articulation in mere words. Yet these examples at least suggest that our motives are not always what they may appear to be on the surface. We would all do well perhaps to take time to examine our lives, to try to discover what gives them meaning. Do we have a Road Runner that gives meaning to our lives simply by remaining forever outside our grasp? Is our quest a real one or are we simply window shopping for truth, the quest itself becoming a shield or armor within which we actually protect ourselves from a real encounter with Truth and all the transformation and uncertainty that comes with it? Is our habit of using intellectual artifice and engaging over and over again in the same behaviors just another way we avoid having to deal with the big issues of life, be they spiritual or practical? Do we actual want to find and believe in something? I cannot, of course, answer these questions. But they need answering and I am delighted that a simple cartoon like Road Runner could act as the catalyst for our exploration of such important issues.

I will close by saying this. If we pay attention, and remember Ockham’s rule of simplicity and economy, then maybe when we become like Wile E. Coyote and begin to go down the path of creating every more complex intellectual artifices, of repeating past behaviors, and seeking along distant paths, we will recognize that something is wrong just by the complexity of what we have wrought, and seek a simpler path. For not only are we sometimes too intensely committed to our intellects, and clothed in the protective shielding of our quest, the fact is that the world around us, and more importantly, the world inside of us, is more often than not amenable to a different approach – a quieter, simpler approach that lies within our grasp, but often just outside our finely constructed frameworks of reason and logic. Because when reason and logic are at wits end, when all the equations, rocket belts, and nuclear powered catapults have failed, oftentimes the best hope for finding our answers is to take a walk around the pond, where we can lose all those artifices, become quite, and listen.

It is one of the great challenges of life to sense when that time has come, and in the spirit of adventure, and keeping our friend Wile E. Coyote in mind, have the courage to let go of our toys, our shields, our crate loads of weapons, and just let it be.

Amen and Amen.

 


 

Presented July 8, 2001

First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin

Austin, Texas

Revised for Print

Copyright 2001 by Jim Checkley

Three Steps From the Edge

© Jim Checkley

February 4, 2001

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

If spirituality could be put into a pill and sold over the counter, then in this country at least, billions would be sold annually. The ratio of spiritual fulfillment to material wealth appears to be at an all time low-although the number of books, seminars, and discussions about both subjects is at an all time high. In the Golden Age of Materialism I want to suggest that there is an inherent conflict between the traditional rendition of the American Dream and finding meaning and spiritual fulfillment in life. And I do not refer to the conflict between serving God and mammon. The conflict I wish to discuss is far more insidious, manifests in many areas of our culture, and goes to the heart of who we are. But it is, I believe, reconcilable; hence, the basis of Sunday’s service.

Today would have been my Father’s eighty-sixth birthday. He died in 1981 at the age of 66 and never saw any of his grandchildren. I owe my intellectual curiosity to my Father and it is in that spirit of curiosity about ourselves and the world we live in, that I present this service today.

When I was growing up in the 60s, my family was very poor. Things got worse when I was nine years old and my Father had a massive heart attack. He never was able to work a real job again in his life. I, on the other hand, had gotten my very first job just a few months before he had his heart attack. In the summer of 1964 I got a job handing out flyers for a butcher shop on Main Street in Clifton, New Jersey. I have no idea what I was paid for this job in the conventional sense, because the butcher used to weigh the flyers on his meat scale and then paid me by the pound. Except for one semester of law school, I have had some kind of a job ever since.

In many ways I was oblivious when I was really young about being poor. It wasn’t until I and my brothers and sisters became teenagers and started seeing the world and going to friends’ houses for overnights and the like that we realized how little we had. I had really never liked having old everything when I was very young, but by the time I was 16 or 17 years old, I was becoming quite embarrassed about it. Being poor, feeling poor, as I approached adulthood was a major defining element in my life.

Today I am a partner with one of the forty largest law firm’s in the country. I have had the opportunity to work on some of the most challenging and interesting cases in Texas over the last 18 years. One might almost be tempted to say that, from an economic point of view at least, I have lived the American Dream.

I was thinking about this and the coincidence that I was asked to speak on my Father’s birthday, and I realized that I wanted to talk about something that has bothered me in recent years about the American Dream. I wanted to talk about how it can be that despite the fact that we live in the richest nation on Earth, a nation that consumes 50% of the world’s resources for only 4.3% of the world’s population, a nation that has more gadgets, cars, TVs, movies, airplanes, designer clothes, choices of music, cable stations, and professional sports teams than anywhere else on the planet, how can it be we are so well off and yet so many of us seem to be so unhappy?

The array of stuff that is available to us is staggering and although we still have poverty and too many of us remain poor, that array of stuff is available to a really huge proportion of the population. For while millions of people made fortunes during the greed era of the 1980s and more recently, in the amazing economy of the 1990s, even more millions have joined the ranks of the great American Middle Class and achieved a kind of safety and security few people in centuries past have ever known.

And yet, despite all this, huge numbers of people (successful people) say they are unhappy, or at least unfulfilled. My favorite anecdotal example is something I read in Time Magazine last year. In a story about the search for meaning among our material possessions, a doctor was quoted as saying that more of his and his associates patients were complaining of depression, loss of interest, lethargy, loss of energy, and the like than ever before. He said that the existential crisis had hit epidemic proportions and if you could just put spirituality into a pill you could sell billions of them.

There appears to be a paradox here. If people have more stuff than ever before, if their needs and wants are being met in greater proportion than ever before, why aren’t more of us happy? I like paradoxes. Whenever there is a paradox, there almost certainly is an opportunity for learning. And this one happens to be near and dear to my heart. I certainly have no delusions of solving it today, but I do want to at least talk about it. And to talk about it, I want to start right in the middle of things.

For a long time in our country, the American Dream was viewed as a rags to riches kind of thing. It was epitomized by the cliched notion that any one could grow up to be president. But over the last forty or fifty years, in my lifetime at least, something has happened either to us or to the Dream. I’m not sure, but I think that as we have become more of a meritocracy where increasingly more people have had access to the fruits of our incredible economy and the opportunities that go with it, the American Dream began to take on a new dimension. On some level, I think the American Dream was transformed into the notion of creating safety and comfort for ourselves and our families within this complex and dizzyingly fast paced society we have created. In this sense, I want to say that the American Dream became the great Middle Class Dream.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. When I was in college, I noticed that very few of my friends ever talked about their dreams. What they talked about was having majors in areas where there were jobs. I specifically recall talking with many of my friends in chemistry and physics and discussing how our majors hard science offered the prospect of many excellent jobs. And I also remember overhearing many conversations where people questioned the sanity of students who were studying in majors where the job market was poor. So it seemed very much to me that most of my generation, at least, of college students primarily wanted a good and secure job, a place to live that they could call their own, a good school system for the kids, and finally, being part of a community or neighborhood of equals who respected and obeyed the same rules and had similar beliefs to their own.

Most of us got all that and more. And we believed that in gaining the safety and security of the great American economic bounty, we had satisfied our needs, our desires, and our dreams. But it turns out we hadn’t. There was something we didn’t count on about dwelling in what I will call the great American middle in honor of our Middle Class Dreams.

Living in the middle, in relative safety, turns out to be like making a popcorn string. Each day is like a kernel of popcorn, each different from the last, but each exactly the same, and we put each kernel on a string, and when we die, we have a very long string of barely distinguishable days. Oh, every once in a while there is a string of seven to fourteen kernels that have a different color, perhaps, those days when we went on vacation, but even those days are hardly distinguished.

And yet, we Americans truly have a love for the middle. It is part of our folklore. By the time we are five, we all have heard of Goldilocks, who is excited when she finds porridge that is neither too hot nor too cold, but is just right. It is part of our deepest held beliefs about the nature of truth. If I had a quarter for every time I heard somebody say that truth is somewhere in the middle, I would be rich. Just yesterday there were two articles in the newspaper in which the author of each suggested that the truth lay somewhere in the middle. Finally, when I think of this issue, I think of a herd of zebra. If you are a zebra out on the plains of the Serengeti, then you should get as close to the middle of the herd as possible because it is less likely any lions will get you. In many ways, we are no different from the zebra: our thirst for the middle is driven by the same concerns, only translated into human culture.

And now we’ve gone well beyond safety in our quest for the middle. So many of us are to the point where we want and can have Pema Chodron’s Perfect Room that was the basis of today’s meditation. And don’t get me wrong: I think that is great, I really do. But there is a danger. Living in the great American middle there is a danger that we will become complacent, will get soft, and we will end up being lukewarm, like Goldilocks’ porridge. Within our Perfect Room we become ever more distant from life, and not just figuratively, but literally. I wonder how many people feel connected to the world because they watch CNN or CNBC or CSPAN or some other ‘C’ network? But it is a false connection.

We are bombarded every day with news of catastrophes all over the world and we just keep on eating our dinner. Does anybody else think it is weird that our network news programs wherein we are treated to images of war and violence in our schools, where we hear about youth killed by drunk drivers, and catastrophes of all kinds, coincides with dinner time and bedtime? I can’t figure out which of the two is worse, to tell you the truth, but I do know this. If the connection were real, then we would get upset and be unable to eat our dinner or go to sleep when we were told that many thousands of Indians died in a major earthquake. The truth is that living in the safety of the middle, living in our Perfect Room, we begin to lose compassion as we lose touch. We also begin to lose our sense of being, our sense of meaning, and finally we end up losing our sense of spirit and self.

I tend to see our love of the middle as quite Darwinian. Evolution is about survival. Evolution tells us that mostly we should choose safety. But what works for our bodies does not necessarily work for our souls. This is the great paradox of life and my take on the conflict between the contemporary vision of the American Dream and having a spiritually meaningful life. Evolution and middle class dreams are about the survival, and more than that, of the body. But in order to have a spiritually meaningful life, we need to talk about the survival, and more than that, of the soul.

Oh I know, we are Unitarians and we are scientific, and science seems to be telling us we probably don’t have souls. Well, let me tell you something: I don’t care. I am going to talk about them anyway. In fact, I am going to suggest that we would do well to reconsider the rejection of the notion of the separation of mind, body, and soul. Because, while it may not be true as a scientific reality, I think we need to treat ourselves as having minds, bodies, and souls in order to have a better shot of having complete lives, because each of those three aspects of ourselves have different needs.

Without at least thinking of ourselves as having souls, whether we actually do or not, we are more likely to ignore the real spiritual needs we have as humans and concentrate more on the needs of the body or the mind. And along these lines, how could we have ever thought that the human spirit would be happy with life in the middle, with being safe and secure but ultimately lukewarm? It isn’t. The human spirit needs challenges, it needs dreams, it needs faith, the kind of faith necessary to leave the safety of the middle and go to the edge and take some chances for something we value and believe in, something besides our own safety or having porridge that tastes just right, or having digital cable TV. To this extent, the life of the soul, of the spirit, is different from the life of the body and sometimes is even in conflict with it. The truth is, a spirit out on the edge is a mutant as far as the body is concerned.

I recently found something neat about this in the Bible. The Book of Revelation, Chapter 3, verses 15-16 states:

I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.

This is so great: John, the author of Revelation, tells us that being lukewarm is the ultimate sin. God would rather that we be hot or cold. But we love being lukewarm. We are drawn to the middle and its safety and security like a moth to the flame. And I would suggest to you that as safe as the middle is for our bodies, the middle can be just as deadly a place for our souls.

Here then is the heart of the conflict I have been talking about: the only place to feel truly alive is close to the edge, but it is also the place where we are the most likely to be hurt. So if we want to be alive, if we want to grow, if we want to explore life and all its possibilities, then we have to be brave enough, and motivated enough, to give up the comfort and safety of the middle and venture to the edge.

I have a friend who lives in Minneapolis. He is in his early fifties and has practiced law since his mid-twenties. Ever since I met him ten years ago, he has been on a mid-life quest for meaning and answers for the second half of life. We were talking one day about how he had gotten a puppy and how the puppy changed his life. Now for a single man who is a partner in a major law firm, getting a 6-week-old puppy is really going out to the edge and is a case of leading with the heart rather than the intellect. And for two months, he left the office every day and went home for lunch. This is a man who skipped lunch most of the time because of the pressures of work. And because he had to walk his dog twice a day, he says that he noticed the arrival of spring for the first time in 15 years. Imagine that.

He and I talked a little bit more about living a life that made us feel alive, one that had some zip to it. And in the course of that discussion, he made a profound observation. He told me that in walking his dog and noticing the arrival of spring, he observed that growth occurs at the edges, not in the middle. The middle may be green, may be solid and set, but it is not where the action is. That happens on the edge.

This was a wonderful observation. And I liked it even more because for years I have been defending stuff like comic books, science fiction, and fantasy because I believe that those genres, as far out as they often are, nevertheless provide wonderful opportunities for understanding ourselves and the world simply because they, unlike mainstream literature, constantly grapple with issues on the edge.

So many people end up struggling to fight the symptoms of living in the middle, but they do not realize that the problem is the very real conflict between the safety of the middle we all desire and the wants and needs of our souls, which would much rather go playing around at the edge. So we have the strange phenomena of people living in the middle but jumping out of airplanes to feel alive; they jump off bridges with elastic tied around their ankles to feel alive; they listen to Madison Avenue and buy cars that can give them a certain thrill so they can feel alive. All this and I suggest that the real problem is the fundamental approach to life: becoming lukewarm living the middle class American Dream.

Our spirits long for space, not the claustrophobia of the middle of the herd. How can our hearts and souls be free living in the Perfect Room Pema Chodron talks about? It is actually a trap, albeit a nice one. And the irony is that the longer we stay trapped in our perfect porridge world, the more resentful we become of the real world. What I mean is, how are we ever going to develop real compassion for anybody when it means leaving the sterility of our Perfect Room, of getting messy in the world, of enduring odors, sights, sounds, and risks that our Darwinian survival instinct tells us to avoid like the plague? We are explorers and adventurers we humans. And if we sit all comfy with our perfect porridge in our Perfect Room with no windows and a big screen TV that gives us the impression of being connected to the world’we will die inside. We will. And many of us already have.

Don’t misunderstand me. There is nothing wrong with being comfortable, safe, fed, happy, and secure. These are in fact good things. I want them for my family and myself. Nor am I suggesting that we have to indulge in dangerous or self-destructive behavior. My suggestion is simply that we become aware that what is good for our bodies is not necessarily good for our souls and that the safety of the middle we so yearn for can be death to our spirit. As stated in the poem I read earlier, the soul is a quiet animal and we need to pay attention to it and its needs or we will simply drift apart and lose contact until it is too late. And in order to help myself do this (I am really bad at practicing what I preach sometimes) I have developed a rule for making choices in my life.

But before I talk about that rule, I want to say that choosing to be alive, truly alive, is not an easy choice to make. Choosing to go to the edge, to be alive, means paying more attention; it means taking risks, but risks that are both reasonable and meaningful; it means investing energy and emotions into something important to you and having the faith in it and yourself to go and do it; it means developing your senses and your awareness like you never have before; and it means sometimes having to go too far in order to understand how far you can go, and frankly, paying the consequences.

If it is hard to do, then how do we do it? All I can tell you is that the best way I have found is this: in everything you do, everything, lead with your heart. That is, follow your passion first, and then use your intellect, reason, and logic to insure that wherever your heart and passion may lead, you will be at least three steps from the edge and not three steps over the edge. The goal is to be close enough to see it, but not so close that we are in constant danger of going over. So it is necessary for us to use our intellect to monitor and channel our hearts or else we may end up like Wylie Coyote, suspended in space several steps beyond the edge, certain to fall as soon as we recognize that nothing is holding us up. If you remember nothing else from this talk, I hope you will remember this simple rule.

You see, the intellect can always give shape to what the heart wants. That is, the intellect is a tool that operates upon whatever situation is brought to it. It is objective, indiscriminate, and cares only for the cold hard facts. But that does not apply to the heart and soul. Passion is often very picky and mysterious in where it will cast its desire and energy. It is for this reason that the finely made balance sheet of pros and cons thought out by the intellect will not by itself insure that the heart will agree to follow. Hearts are like that. They have minds of their own, you know. And they are stubborn. Show the intellect that 2 plus 2 equals 4 and it will believe you. Show the heart that this is the most logical path to take, and it still may rebel. We go against our hearts at our own peril.

In 1978 I was faced with a life choice. I could have gone to law school or I could have earned my Master’s in Radio, TV, and Film. My mind, reason and logic, said go to law school. My heart said RTF. In part because of a youth spent in poverty, in part because I felt that success at law school would more easily translate into my own Perfect Room, I chose law school. This was one of the most pivotal decisions I ever made in my life and frankly, was the inspiration for this service. And while I will not say that I made a mistake, for I have been successful and who knows what may have happened otherwise, I will tell you that my heart has never forgiven me.

But the good new is that it is not too late. It is never too late to leave the middle and move to the edge. It is never too late to recognize that sometimes moderation in all things is not necessarily a good thing. Let me put it this way: Does it feel right to love with moderation, to dream with moderation, or to dance with moderation? I hope not. But that is what happens if we allow ourselves to lose touch and become lukewarm. That’s why God is ready to spew lukewarm people from his mouth. I say: Love with passion, dream with abandon, and dance until you drop.

I will conclude by saying this: leading with your heart and living three steps from the edge is the difference between being Jean Luc Picard or James T. Kirk, and being a couch potato. Jean Luc and Jim Kirk actively embrace life and go often to the edge, following their hearts, sometimes at great risk, while the couch potato passively hides out in his Perfect Room and pretends to be engaged with life through his television. It’s more dangerous to be at the edge, and it isn’t always very comfortable either, but in the end it is much more meaningful. We don’t need to choose between our bodies and our souls. We can satisfy both. But we need to recognize that they have different (sometimes conflicting) needs and then set about to honor them all. Living three steps from the edge does that.

I know my Father would not want me to do it any other way.