Mission Possible

Nell Newton, Eric Stimmel, Chris Jimmerson

July 18, 2010

Leaders of First UU Austin present our new mission statement and introduce our new interim minister, Ed Brock.

“At First UU Church of Austin we gather in community to nourish souls, transform lives and do justice.”

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

Tiger Woods and the Beer Cart Girl

Timothy B. Tutt

Pastor, United Christian Church

July 11, 2010

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

Sermon

Some of you have looked at my sermon title in the bulletin and you think you know where I’m headed with this sermon, “Tiger Woods and the Beer Cart Girl.” Given the Sports news the past few months about Tiger and his off-the-course behavior, you assume you know what I might say this morning. After all, the bulletin also says I’m the pastor of a Christian Church and you know how those Christians are about sex. All I have to say is, “You dirty-minded Unitarians.” I’m not going to talk about sex at all.

But I do want to tell you a story about Tiger Woods and the beer cart girl. First, I may need to explain to you non-golfers – and I’m not much of golfer myself – about beer cart girls. Many golf courses hire young, attractive women to drive around the course selling beer from a golf cart. I know that’s sexist. And I know that’s exploiting women. I didn’t invent the practice; I’m just reporting it. I can also say I’ve never heard of a beer cart boy, but as I tell this story, if you would like to change the gender of my character you are welcome to do that. As I said, beer cart girls are mostly hired for their looks, their charm, and they’re ability to sell cold beverages to hot golfers. So, let’s take an imaginary trip to the links. Tiger Woods is the world’s greatest golfer. He’s won 95 professional tournaments, 4 Masters, 4 PGA Championships, 23 U.S. Opens. He’s the first golfer ever to hold all four professional major championship titles at the same time.

But recently, Tiger has slumped a bit. That happens, I suppose, when your spouse finds out you’re cheating and beats you with a golf club. And the tawdry affairs of your sex life are national news.

So, Tiger goes out to a course to brush up a bit. He needs to get his groove back. So, he goes to a course to practice. Something is just not right. His drives are short, his chips aren’t so chipper, his puts peter out. There he stands, the champion, defeated and frustrated, when up drives the beer cart girl. Now, as I said, beer cart girls aren’t hired for their golfing skills. They’re hired to sell beer with a smile and a laugh. But let’s say this beer cart girls drives up, hops off the cart and says, “Hey, Tiger, if you turn your front foot in just a bit, choke up a quarter-inch on your grip, and drop your back shoulder just a hair, your drive will be straighter. I’ve been thinking,” says the beer cart girl, “and maybe you should switch from a nine-iron to a seven-iron on the fairway.”

Imagine Tiger Woods, the youngest golfer ever to complete the Grand Slam … Tiger Woods, who was golfing on the Tonight Show when he was three … imagine Tiger Woods, the youngest Masters’ champion ever … getting golf advice from the beer cart girl.

Tiger Woods has won 111 Million dollars playing golf. Imagine him getting golfing advice from the beer cart girl, who works for tips. Imagine him saying to the ESPN reporters, “My game is picking up because I got some really great advice from the beer cart girl.” Some off you may remember back to the 1980 Presidential Debate when Jimmy Carter was asked a question about nuclear weapons, and he began his answer by saying, “I was talkin’ to mah daughta Amy the otha day…” Commentators just howled. Imagine the President of the United States getting advice on nuclear weapons from his ten year-old daughter.

That’s not how the world works, right?

Golf pros don’t get advice from beer cart girls. Presidents don’t get advice from fourth graders.

We have a sense of who is right and who is powerful and who is in charge and who is important. We listen to those people, right?

Let me tell you another story. This story is from the Hebrew scriptures. It’s from the Book of Kings, the portion that Christians call Second Kings.

(Parenthetically, let me say that I grew up a Southern Baptist in East Texas. And in the tradition of my growing up, this is where the preacher would pause to say, “Turn with me in your Bible to the Book of Second Kings.” My hunch is that the likelihood of Unitarian Universalist having a Bible at church is about as likely as Tiger Woods getting golf advice from the beer cart girl. Nonetheless, if you’d like to follow along on your Blackberry or IPhone, please log on to Second Kings, Chapter 5…)

In Second Kings Chapter 5, we meet a man named Naaman. Naaman was a general in the Aramean army. The Arameans were the vicious enemies of the Israelites. The Book of Second Kings says that Naaman was “a mighty warrior,” but he suffered from leprosy.

Now, along the way, the Arameans, on one of their raids, had captured a young girl captive from Israel. This girl was a salve to General Naaman’s wife And one day, this young slave girl said to Mrs. Naaman – the writer of Second Kings tells it in such poetic language – the young slave girl says, to Naaman’s wife: “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! The prophet would cure him of his leprosy.”

To condense the story a bit. Naaman decides to take the slave girl’s advice. Naaman goes to Israel, takes a wagon-full of money with him from the king of the ArameansÑafter all, when you’re hoping to get a cure from your enemies, imagine what a little bribe can do.

So Naaman, the Aramean general with leprosy, goes to find the Jewish prophet Elisha.

There are a multitude of angles we could explore in this text: There’s the issue of bribery in military campaigns. Seems like some things never change. There’s the issue of suddenly discovering that your enemies may have the cure you need. Heck, we could even wander off into a discussion of leprosy in the ancient Middle EastÑbut we haven’t had lunch yet, so maybe we should save that.

The issue I would like for you to ponder for bit is this: Naaman – the great general, the mighty warrior, the conqueror of nations – following the advice of the slave girl, a prisoner, a child, a nobody. Naaman was the Aramean version of George Washington or Dwight Eisenhower or David Petraeus. He was a “somebody.” He was in the news, he had his name carved on stone tablets. The slave girl? We don’t even know her name. She was a nobody. And she was triply cursed – a female, young, and a slave – in a day and age that gave few rights to any of the three.

But the writer of the Book of Kings says that Naaman loaded up the caravan and headed off to find Elisha, following the advice of the slave girl.

What if the world were really like that?

What if we paid attention to the nobodies? Or even better, what if the nobodies were suddenly in charge?

I just returned from a week in Ecuador. A group of people from our congregation and from Wildflower UU, along with some folks from the UU Fellowship traveled to Ecuador together for a mission project, a service project.

We worked at a church in the village of Cachimuel, a community of Kichwa Indians, nestled on a steep slope of the Andean foothills. The people of Cachimuel, the Native Americans, are fairly poor people by our standards. Their village has only had running water for 12 years. I saw one tractor and two cars in the entire village. They use outhouses. Pigs and cows and donkeys and sheep wander around in the streets. I didn’t see a child with a single DSI or Xbox or Gameboy. Their clothes were often grimy.

But you know what? They invited us into their homes and served us coffee and tea. This weathered Kichwa woman welcomed us into a room where she was kneeling on the floor and beating reeds flat with a rock and making mats. And she gave me one, because she is a generous.

She was hammering reed mats with a rock, and she gave me one: Because she is generous. Me? I’m neither that hard-working nor that generous, I’m afraid. Another woman was squatting down on the front porch of the church on our first day at work. We were scraping and sanding off old paint. It wasn’t terribly work, but it was dusty and dirty and we were tired. This tiny Kichwa Indian woman, with several teeth missing, was sitting by this big, beat-up aluminum bowl. And as we walked out the door, she invited us to bend down, and she poured warm water to clean our hands. She had heated that water over a fire, carried that big pot to that porch, and was washing our hands.

We’re supposed to be the “somebodies,” right? After all, both Barack Obama and Sarah Palin say we’re the greatest nation on earth. We’re General Naaman from the Book of Kings. But maybe hubris is our leprosy.

Last week, I saw the slave girl, maybe no longer the captives, but still the “nobodies,” poor Indian dirt farmers, clinging to their back-mountain ways – showing me a hospitality and a generosity that I need to learn. Not so much giving me advice to follow, but offering examples to emulate.

Before my wife, Amy, and I moved back to Texas ten years ago, we lived in Washington, DC. There is a remarkable church in DC called Church of the Savior. It is a decentralized congregation, made up of about a dozen smaller churches. Each of the smaller churches has a particular focus. One church focuses on the arts, one focuses on issues of addiction and recovery. But one of the churches focuses on diversity. People must join that church in pairs. To join that church, you must join in tandem with someone who is different than you, someone who is “other.” If you are poor, you must join with someone who is rich. If you are white, you must join with someone who is black. General Naaman would join it with the slave girl. Tiger Woods might join with the beer cart girl. The purpose of that church is to create relationships that break down barriers, where people live with and learn from each other. Rich learning from poor, educated learning from uneducated, old learning from young, powerful learning from powerless.

I have many friends here at First Unitarian Universalist Church. Kathyrn Govier. Brent Baldwin. Donna and Derek Howard. Carol Ginn and several others were in class that I led at UT. It’s really a pleasure to be among so many friends this this morning. I have long been an admirer of this congregation. I am honored to be invited into this pulpit again this morning. With all of those pleasantries aside, let me say, Maybe, in some way, First Unitarian Universalist Church is like General Naaman. You’re smart, you’re well-educated, you’re important, you’re wealthy. You’re powerful in this city. You’re the “somebodies.”

But maybe you have a leprosy of sorts as well.

I know this congregation has gone through a long period of soul-searching, self-evaluation, internal examination. That is important. You are building bridges to the future and having vision-values-and-missions meeting. You’ve had consultants and committees and coffee conversations. Those things may be helpful. But make sure you aren’t just putting a Band-Aid over your leprosy. As you think about your future as a church, are you willing to listen to the nobodies? Are you willing to hear the powerless? Are you willing to load up a wagon-full of gold to follow the advice of the slave girl?

The first three principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association are impressive. The first three UU principles say that you affirm and promote: the inherent worth and dignity of every person; justice, equity and compassion in human relations; acceptance of one another…

Do you really? Do you really affirm the inherent worth of every person? Earlier, I mentioned Sarah Palin and Barack Obama. Do you really affirm the worth of both of them?

Or, what if this slave girl walked off the pages of Second Kings into First UU? What if she was a poor, immigrant who had suffered at the hands of a brutal government? What if she didn’t speak your language? What if she had never heard of yoga or philosophical inquiry or the yew grove moon ritual? I know you would give her canned goods, and you’d probably hire her to clean your home, but would you affirm her inherent worth as a member of this congregation?

Would you make her a Trustee if she’d never heard of Robert’s Rules of Order? Are you really compassionate in all your relations? The second principle says you are. Or do you try to out-vote each other, out-maneuver each other, out-talk each other? What if you gave up strategic planning and, instead, squatted out on the sidewalk with a big, banged-up aluminum pot of warm water and washed each other’s hands – or maybe even your feet – as a sign and symbol of compassion and caring?

You accept one another. Principle three says so. But, do you really? Would you accept the beer cart girl, as readily as you would accept a sociology professor? Would you accept a crack addict living under a bridge, as readily as you would accept that cute young couple that drives their new Prius past that bridge every day? Would you accept the day laborer named Raphael who doesn’t speak much English, as readily as you would accept the activist who has appointed herself to speak on Raphael’s behalf?

General Naaman, with his leprosy, loaded up a wagon of gold to go to find Elisha to see if the prophet can cure him of his disease. So, what happened? Was the slave girl right? Was Naaman cured? Did he find the prophet? What did he do with all that gold? Did the “nobody” become a “somebody”?

Well, you’ll have to log on to your Blackberries or your IPhones, or dust off the Bible that’s on your shelf, or run down to Book People and buy one and read for yourself the rest of the story. The ending is right there in the Book of Kings.

Which brings up another question: What about those kinds of people? People who read ancient faith stories like Second Kings, people who own a Bible or a Koran? Do you accept them? Do you affirm their faith journey? Do you promote their worth and dignity?

People who think stories of slave girls and generals might have meaning for you and your church on this day? Because you never know, the beer cart girl may just have good advice for Tiger Woods. And the slave girl just might cure your leprosy. And the voice of the nobodies may just have the word you need to hear.

A Government by the People

Rev. Mark Skrabacz

July 4, 2010

A Government by the People – Reflections on the responsibilities of our freedom

About patriotism George McGovern said, “The highest patriotism is not a blind acceptance of official policy, but a love of one’s country deep enough to call her to a higher plain.” Thomas Paine’s plea to move beyond the pale of a Sunshine Patriot in “The Crisis” is about as eloquent as it gets. He wrote: “These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated.”

What do we do with our freedom? Many of us question the influence of our liberty at any cost on the world stage. Who here has concerns about our covert and overt operations in our attempts to bring freedom and democracy to countries in areas where we stand to lose our access to natural resources and political clout?

Recent polls declaring our population’s dissatisfaction and distrust of our government are very interesting. I wonder how you feel about our present government and situations that have come to the fore in the last 18 months. How about the 8 years before? Did anyone poll you to ascertain your level of satisfaction and trust? Are you in agreement with these current polls? This distrust in government seems a bit odd given the evidence of people’s disinterest in and lack of knowledge about our system of government. A succession of opinion polls have revealed that a majority of Americans are unable to name a single branch of government – not legislative, not judicial, not executive. Nor can a majority describe the Bill of Rights, which helps explain why the Patriot Act was so easily swallowed by most Americans. More than two-thirds do not know the substance of that landmark Supreme Court case, Roe v. Wade – perhaps the most polarizing judicial decision of the last 40 years. Nearly half of all adult Americans do not know that states have two senators, and three quarters do not know the length of a senate term. More than 50 percent of Americans cannot name their representatives; 40 percent cannot name either of their senators.

American educator and author Mortimer Adler, wrote that citizenship is the highest office in our government. All other offices – president for instance, or chief justice of the Supreme Court – are the instruments by which we, the people, govern ourselves. The government of the United States resides in us, “we, the people.” What resides in Washington D.C. is merely the administration of the government. We recognize this fact when, after a presidential election, we say that we have changed one administration for another. When the administration changes, the government does not change. That’s because the principle rulers of our nation, the citizens, are the permanent rulers, whereas the administration of the government is only temporary.

This is the meaning of our freedom. That “we, the people” have become our own rulers, the power behind the administration of our government. I remember traveling in Europe in Autumn of 2004 at the time leading up to the Presidential election. My European friends continually questioned me as to why I and we Americans were keeping the federal administration in power. In answer to their queries as to how this could be, I could only retort with examples of our two party system gone awry and how politics and lobbying and money had their influences far beyond the pale of the single citizen and his or her one vote. I felt the frustration that perhaps some of you did, especially when November 2 rolled around and the administration was given another 4 years. That motivated me to work during the next few years, attending my precinct caucus in 2008 and personally contributing money and time to elect someone I felt more connected to and whose policies more closely reflected my own.

Regardless of our political preferences, it is sometimes difficult to remember that in our system of government the president is not a dictator, but actually works for the citizens and is limited by the Constitution. Today we must be reminded that we, the people are the ruling class! “Citizen” is the highest office under the U.S. Constitution. All other offices are secondary. Perhaps some of our citizenry are asleep at the wheel when it comes to accountability for what “our government” is doing.

This brings to mind the slogan, “My country right or wrong!” Remember seeing it on bumper stickers and hearing it shouted in the early 70s? This simple phrase was used to polarize a generation during the Vietnam Conflict. History reveals that it was probably first stated as a toast by Commodore Stephen Decatur, Jr., who was an American naval officer notable for his heroism in the Barbary Wars and in the War of 1812. He was the youngest man to reach the rank of captain in the history of the United States Navy, and the first American celebrated as a national military hero who had not played a role in the American Revolution. Decatur said, “Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be in the right, but right or wrong, our country!” There’s another saying from Carl Schurz, who was a Union Army general and later served as U.S. Senator from Missouri, and then as Secretary of the Interior. Schurz said, “My country right or wrong: When right to be kept right. When wrong, to be put right!”

As citizen-patriots we love our country, and when the administration is leading the country in the wrong direction, we need the humility to admit it, and the courage to put it right again! As citizens we have the duty to do so.

Citizens come in all shapes and sizes, colors and preferences. One complains that our government officials are proceeding along the worst course of action, flies a flag on all national holidays and sports a “Support Our Troops” ribbon on his car. Another donates to her political party, never passes up an opportunity to vote and sports a “Dissent is the Highest Form of Patriotism” bumper sticker on her car. The relative patriotism of either is pretty much dependent upon your sympathy with their points of view. They have equal claims to patriotismÉ up to a point.

If we hope to gain more out of being an American than patriotic fervor, and seek to be more active Unitarian Universalists, than we must step outside of the “club mentality” and engage in an endeavor Emmanuel Kant emphasized with his students two and a half centuries ago. It was absolutely integral to the development of his philosophical views. Kant said, “Think for yourselves!” “Have the courage to make use of your own understanding.” This speaks to our motivation, that quality which most of us have little ability to understand in others, much less in ourselves.

Let’s look at our two patriots again. Many of us might assume the first gentleman is the worst sort of patriot. But let’s assume he questions the course of action of our government officials because he has been following developments closely from a variety of sources, reading up on specific history and spent a great deal of time agonizing over what the right course of action is, and only after such reflection, he complains.

The second patriot supports her chosen political party and always votes along party lines because that’s the way she’s always done things. It doesn’t matter who is on the ballot so long as she checks off the right box concerning party affiliation. Voting to her is a privilege without any correlating responsibilities.

I don’t want to judge others without some understanding of their motivation. I want to look more deeply and ask what makes them tick.

Beloved community, we may celebrate our freedom today, but there is much to do to fulfill the promise of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. For example, we still have not achieved justice for the First Nations of our land. And we are in the midst of a passionate, yet unofficial, Immigration debate about people who are sometimes referred to as “undocumented workers,” and by others as “illegal aliens.”

And we face another threat – the power of corporations that have all of the rights of “citizens” but apparently none of the limitations. With massive wealth, they are able to purchase “free speech” through the media to such an extent that they have far more power to influence the outcome of elections than real citizens have. Now the Supreme Court, with newly appointed members, has decided that purchased speech is “free speech” and cannot be limited.

The promises of the Declaration of Independence – that all men are created equal, and possess certain inalienable rights – are difficult promises to fulfill. Yet this is the promise of our America. Our government derives its just powers from the consent of the governed. We have, simply because we are human beings, the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. As citizens, we are the rulers of our nation. We believe today that these promises are not just for white male property owners, as they were at the time of the early American republic. These are promises for all women and men. It is our hope that in time such rights will be seen as the natural rights of all people the world over. In the meantime, we still have work to do to fulfill these promises right here in our own land.

One last thought. In the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson wrote that “the laws of nature and nature’s God” entitled people to these inalienable rights. Jefferson, Washington, Madison, Franklin, Adams all believed in God. The folks on the Religious Right are correct when they remind us of this fact. At the same time, they were not fundamentalist or even orthodox Christians. They were all deists, dissenters, or religious liberals of one sort or another, by the standards of most Americans of their time. A few, like Patrick Henry, were fairly orthodox; a few, like Thomas Paine, were so radical as to be anti-Christian. Jefferson, a deist, declared himself to be a Unitarian. John Adams was a member of a church that became Unitarian during his lifetime, and he is buried in that church, the First Parish Unitarian Universalist in Quincy, Massachusetts – as is his wife, First Lady Abigail Adams, and his son, President John Quincy Adams, and his wife, First Lady Louisa Catherine Adams. Two presidents and two first ladies all buried in a Unitarian Universalist Church – and no other church in the United States can say that. Likewise, Washington, Franklin and Madison also held deist views. They believed in God. But they often preferred terms like “providence,” or the term Jefferson used in the Declaration, “the laws of nature and nature’s God.” That is not a biblical phrase; it is a deist phrase.

Yet the Founders were not as secular as some on the left like to think, and they were not as orthodox as some on the right like to think. As a group its fair to say that they did believe that “the laws of nature and nature’s God” had endowed us with inalienable rights. They thought religious faith was important, that it gave us morals and ethics, and that these things were necessary for good government.

But they did not want a test of faith to be required to hold political office. The Constitution makes this clear. They did not want a national religion – the Bill of Rights makes that clear. And, as the Treaty of Tripoli clearly states – it was negotiated during the Washington administration, signed by President John Adams, and ratified without controversy by the Senate in 1797 – they did not intend the United States to be a Christian nation. Rather, they wanted our nation to be a land of religious liberty and tolerance.

And while they mentioned “the laws of nature and nature’s God” and the “Creator” in the Declaration of Independence, they left God out of the Constitution.

In one of the last letters of his life, Jefferson wrote of America’s hard-won freedom from kings who used church and state together to reign over others, acting as if only monarchs could draw strength from God. On June 24, 1826, 10 days before his death, he wrote, “All eyes are open, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God.”

For the Founding Fathers, God’s grace was universal, not limited to royal blood. We owe a great debt to our Founders. They were not gods. They were not perfect. They believed in liberty, but many kept slaves. They believed in virtue, but most lived very complex private lives. All believed in the general idea of religion as a force for stability, but most had unconventional faiths.

George Washington refused to kneel to pray, and was not known to take communion – in fact, when a clergyman admonished Washington for not taking communion, Washington responded by ceasing to attend church. Still, he explained the American victory in the Revolution as “the hand of Providence,” going on at great length about how God had defeated the British Empire.

These complex and self-contradictory people laid the groundwork for much good. We hold these truths to be self evident! We have many promises to live up to. May we have the wisdom to fulfill the promise of the Founders, to achieve the blessings of liberty, justice and peace; and may we have the strength to pass on these blessings to future generations.

Being an American can help us live our UU principles and being UU can help us achieve what James Bryce expresses so beautifully. “Our country is not the only thing to which we owe our allegiance. It is also owed to justice and to humanity. Patriotism consists not in waving the flag, but in striving that our country shall be righteous as well as strong.”

Cloudburst

Rev. Janet Newman

June 6, 2010

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

“Cloudburst” Music by Eric Whitacre, poetry by Octavio Paz

First UU Choir

Kelan Latimer, baritone

Gitanjali Mathur, soprano

Carol Ginn, reader

Chris Smith, Dan Wilson, and Peter Pope, percussion

Kathryn Grovier, piano

Brent Baldwin, conductor

The First UU Choir performance of “Cloudburst” is not included in the audio file above.

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Environmentalism and a Culture of Caring – An Earth Day message

Mark Skrabacz

Pastor – UU Church of the Hill Country

April 18, 2010

One morning, long, long ago—in fact, 120 million years ago, something incredible happened here on Earth: The first flower ever to appear on the planet opened up to receive the rays of the sun. Prior to this momentous event, the planet had been covered in vegetation for millions of years but none had ever before flowered. I imagine that this first flower probably didn’t survive for long, since conditions were not quite yet favorable for a widespread flowering to occur. One day, however, such conditions came about.  A critical threshold was reached, and our planet became filled with an explosion of color and scent.  It was an evolutionary transformation in the life of plants and all life.

Much later, flowers would come to play an essential part in the evolution of consciousness of another species: us!  Think about it: over the years, flowers have provided inspiration and insight to countless artists, poets, teachers, and mystics.  In the New Testament, for example, Jesus, himself, tells us to contemplate the flowers and learn from them how to live. And the Buddha is said to have once given a “silent sermon” during which he held up a flower and simply gazed at it.  After a while, one monk began to smile. It is said that this monk was the only one who had understood the sermon. According to legend, that smile (which has been interpreted over the years as “awakening”), that smile was handed down by twenty-eight successive masters and became the origin of Zen.

So it is no accident that flowers are included in so much Buddhist art.  Seeing the beauty in a flower can awaken humans, however briefly, to the beauty that is an essential part of our own innermost being, as the Buddha called it, our original face — our true nature.

This is one of the reasons why many of us like to garden and work with plants. They are serene and their energy is infectious.

This is all described by Eckhart Tolle in his book, A New Earth.  Tolle raises the possibility that important religious teachers like the Buddha and Jesus were some of humanity’s “early flowers,” so to speak. That is to say, they were our precursors. They were rare and precious beings who were as revolutionary in their day as was that first flower 120 million years ago.  And when they appeared on Earth, conditions were not yet favorable for widespread comprehension of their messages.  This, argues Tolle, is because humanity wasn’t evolved enough, hadn’t yet reached a critical threshold of understanding to grasp the teachings.  Thus, these great teachers were largely misunderstood by their peers.

This raises the question:  are we more evolved now, some 2,000-2,500 years since the Buddha and Jesus were alive?  How many of us think that we are?  Although this evolutionary growth of consciousness has seemed to come in fits and spurts—and even seems to regress at times.

In these days of population growth and climate change, of industrialization and shrinking natural habitats, the question becomes whether or not are we evolving quickly enough to preserve life as we know it?

I want to be clear: this is not going to be a doomsday Earth Day sermon.  Rather, I want to share with you this morning why it is that I am feeling hopeful in spite of the many problems threatening the health and future of our Mother Earth.

Let me start with the assertion that we already possess the technical knowledge, the communication tools, the ability to educate our fellow humans about population control, and the material resources to grow enough food, ensure clean air and water, and meet the rational energy needs of all of us.  We have everything we need to survive and thrive for generations to come. Everything, that is, except for the required shift of consciousness that will inspire us to implement changes on a global scale.  Many of us are still plagued by the old habits and understandings that have caused the mess in which we now find ourselves.

“The Cosmos is all that is or ever was or ever will be.” Thus began the famed astronomer Carl Sagan’s majestic 1980 television series, Cosmos. The epic grandeur of Sagan’s Cosmos—suffused with “billions upon billions” of planets, stars, and galaxies—captivated the imagination of viewers everywhere. But despite the almost sacred reverence for existence that permeated the series, some still took issue with its strictly scientific bias, finding little room for the numinous or the transcendent in Sagan’s naturalistic worldview.

Fifteen years later, the integral philosopher Ken Wilber issued an 800-page response to concerns such as these. Titled Sex, Ecology, Spirituality, Wilber’s grand tome argued for a more holistic conception of the universe—one that would honor the profound revelations of science and religion alike. He called the Universe “the Kosmos” (with a “K” from the Greek). So when some use the term “Kosmos,” with a “k”, it’s not only to affirm our appreciation for Sagan’s extraordinary universe but also to restore the spiritual depth and transcendent mysticism that the ancient Greek philosophers, who coined the word, duly acknowledged and revered.

Perhaps a more realistic synthesis of the two comes from renowned systems thinker Gregory Bateson,

“If you put God outside and set him vis-a-vis his creation, and if you have the idea that you are created in his image, you will logically and naturally see yourself as outside and against the things around you.  And as you arrogate all mind to yourself (Arrogate, from the latin arrogatus defined as claiming or seizing without justification.) Continuing with Bateson: as you arrogate all mind to yourself, you will see the world around you as mindless and therefore not entitled to moral or ethical consideration.  The environment will seem to be yours to exploit.  Your survival unit will be you and your folks or conspecifics against the environment of other social units, other races, and the brutes and vegetables.  If this is your estimate of your relation to nature and you have an advanced technology, your likelihood of survival will be that of a snowball in hell.  You will die either of the toxic by-products of your own hate, or simply of overpopulation and overgrazing.” Sounds daunting and all to familiar.

Here is the good news: although still relatively small, there is a rapidly growing percentage of humanity that is experiencing a shift in consciousness that many deem necessary if we are going to survive as a human species.  Some associate the shift to the theories and proofs of quantum physics.  Others attribute it to the emergence of the internet—which has brought connections and ideas into our homes from all over the world — our global village. Still others see it as a natural result of the end of imperialism or of the 2500 year epoch of the dark ages.  I personally think that all of these things are having their impact.  Just go to any bookstore and you’ll to find a number of books on the subject, some written by notable scholars such as Joanna Macy and David Korten.

These two writers differ greatly in their fields of expertise—Joanna Macy is a Buddhist scholar, and David Korten is an expert in business and economics.  But both are currently telling us the same thing: that we are now living in a defining moment in the course of our history. That the era of cheap oil is ending, climate change is undeniably real, and economies can no longer rest on the unsustainable foundation of financial and environmental debt.  Out of necessity, they tell us, we are collectively entering a new era.  We are moving away from the life-killing political economy birthed by the Industrial Revolution and we’re moving towards a sustainable, life-enhancing political economy that exists in harmony with the Earth.  They both refer to it by the same name.  They call it “The Great Turning.” Perhaps you’ve heard of it.

Simply put, this concept of The Great Turning encompasses all the actions currently being taken to honor, care for and preserve life on Earth these days—and there are lots of them.  But it is more than these, too.  It involves a new understanding of who we are and what we need to be happy.  In large numbers, people are learning the falsehood of the old paradigm that there is an isolated, competitive, solid self.   In its stead, we are beginning to embrace a new paradigm in which our selfish and solid separateness is seen for what it really is: an illusion.  We are discovering our inter-connectedness to everything, our mutual belonging in the web of life.  So despite centuries of mechanistic Newtonian conditioning, we are slowly learning to name, once again, this world—and everything in it—as sacred, as whole.

Whether these understandings come through Gaia theory, systems theory, chaos theory, or through liberation theology, shamanic practices, the evolutionary theology of UCC minister Michael Dowd, engaged Buddhism,or even Unitarian Universalism, such insights and experiences are now freeing growing numbers of us from the grip of the industrial-corporate-growth society. They are offering us nobler goals and deeper pleasures. They are redefining our wealth and our worth, thus liberating us—finally—from compulsions to consume and control everything in sight.

To me, I view this trend as a natural emergence of the Feminine (or Yin) Principle in a world that has been strongly skewed toward the Masculine (or Yang) Principle.  But however you view it, there is no denying the fact that something is sparking a transition around the world and it is giving me hope!

That’s because one of the best aspects of this shift is that there is less room for panic or self-pity.  No, with these new understandings of who we really are, it is gratitude that generally arises, not fear.  We become grateful to be alive at this moment, when—for all the darkness around us—blessings and awakenings abound. The Great Turning helps us stay mindful and steady, helping us join hands in community to find the ways the world self-heals — like our Sanctuary Garden and Hands on Housing.  The present chaos, then, doesn’t doom us but becomes a seedbed for a better, more sacredly connected, future.

This is a very exciting time to be alive: we have so much potential; we can make such a difference!  Of course that’s not to say that these coming years will be easy.  One can always expect resistance to change, especially when it affects profitability and patterns of dominance.   No, we are now encountering times of great suffering and uncertainty.  And at times our grief will seem overwhelming—like the type of grief so many of us are currently feeling about war, and genocide, and natural disasters, and over-population, of species extinction, and so many more disasters.

But like living cells in a larger body, it is natural that we feel the trauma of our world. So today — this Earth Day — we offer some balance to the paralysis of analysis and its intense anguish that we might be feeling these days.  These responses arise from the depth of our caring and the truth of our interconnectedness with all beings. After all, “to suffer with” is the literal meaning of compassion.  And this world could use a lot more compassion.

What if we were to understand our relation to nature and our environment in sacred terms or poetic terms or, with Emerson and Thoreau, in good old American transcendentalist terms, but there is no broadly shared language with which to do this. So we are forced to resort to what is, in fact, a lower common denominator: the languages of science and bureaucracy. These languages have broad legitimacy in our culture, a legitimacy they possess largely because of the thoroughness with which they discredited religious discourse in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. But many babies went out with the bath water of religious dogma and superstition. One of these was morality. Even now, science can’t say why we ought not to harm the environment except to say that we shouldn’t be self-destructive. Another of these lost sacred children was our very relation as human beings to the mystery of existence, as such. As the philosopher G. W. Leibniz famously wondered, “Why is there something rather than nothing?”

For St. Thomas Aquinas in the 13th century, this was the fundamental religious question. In the place of a medieval and renaissance relation to the world that was founded on this mystery, we have a mechanical relation that is objective and data driven. We no longer have a forest; we have “board feet.” We no longer have a landscape, a world that is our own; we have “valuable natural resources.” Avowed Christians have been slow to recall this sacred relationship to the world. For example, only recently have American evangelicals begun thinking of the environment in terms of what they call “creation care.” We don’t have to be born again to agree with evangelicals that one of the most powerful arguments missing from the 21st century environmentalist’s case is reverence for what simply IS. One of the heroes of Goethe’s Faust was a character called Care (Sorge), who showed to Faust the unscrupulousness of his actions and led him to salvation. Environmentalism has made a Faustian pact with quantitative reasoning; science has given it power but it cannot provide deliverance. If environmentalism truly wishes, as it claims, to want to “save” something—the planet, a species, itself—it needs to rediscover a common language of Care.

Here’s a valuable learning: you cannot defeat something that you imagine to be an external threat to you when it is, in fact, internal to you, when its life is your life.  The truth is, these so-called external threats are actually a great convenience to us. It is convenient that we can imagine a power beyond us because that means we don’t have to spend much time examining our own lives. And it is very convenient that we can hand the hard work of our resistance to these so-called externals over to scientists, our designated national problem solvers.

Environmentalism should stop depending solely on its alliance with science for its sense of itself. It should look to create a common language of care (a reverence for and a commitment to the astonishing fact of flowers and plants and existence) through which it could begin to create alternative principles by which we might live. As Leo Tolstoy wrote in his famous essay “My Religion,” faith is not about obedience to church dogma, and it is not about “submission to established authority.” A people’s religion are “the principles by which they live.”

I’ll close with this: The establishment of these principles by which we might live would begin with three questions. First, what does it mean to be a human being? Second, what is my relation to other human beings? And third, what is my relation to existence as such, the ongoing “miracle” that there is something rather than nothing? If the answer to these questions is that the purpose of being human is “the pursuit ofhappiness” (understood as success, which is understood as the accumulation of money); and if our relation to others is a relation to mere things (with nothing to offer but what they can do for us); and if our relation to the world is only to “resources” (that we should exploit for profit); then we should be very comfortable with the world we have. If this world goes to perdition at least we can say that we acted in “good faith.” But if, on the other hand, we answer that there should be a greater sense of self-worth in being a human, more justice in our relation to others, and more reverence for existence as a sacred Whole, then we must either live in bad faith with market-driven capitalism and other systemic “givens,” or begin describing a future whose fundamental values and whose daily activities are radically different from what we currently endure. The risk I propose, as our choir sang, is for us to rise to the nobility of a star. We should refuse to be mere functions of a system that we cannot in good conscience defend. And we should insist on living a new story, one that re-cognizes the mystery, the miracle, and the dignity of things, from flowers to frogs to forests to our fellow humans, simply because they are.

Happy Earth Day!