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Rev. Michelle LaGrave
October 8, 2023
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org
Our lives are filled with moments of amazing grace, which break our hearts wide open with compassion for our fellow beings. We may not know why these moments come and go; even so we can meet them with gratitude together.
Chalice Lighting
We light this chalice to affirm that new light is ever waiting to break through to enlighten our ways. New truth is ever waiting to break through to illuminate our minds. New love is ever waiting to break through to warm our hearts. May we be open to this light and to the rich possibilities that it brings us.
Call to Worship
Come into this space, this sacred space, this sanctuary. Whether your sanctuary is here or at home or some other on-line space. Draw in its beauty as if drawing in a deep breath. Draw in its peace as if drawing in a deep breath and come, come into this space with hearts open, hearts ready to receive, hearts ready to give. Let us begin.
– Rev. Michelle LaGrave
Affirming Our Mission
Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.
Reading
THE SOUND OF THE GENUINE
By Howard ThurmanIf I were to ask you what is the thing that you desire most in life this afternoon, you would say a lot of things off the top of your head, most of which you wouldn’t believe but you would think that you were saying the things that I thought you ought to think that you should say.
But I think that if you were stripped to whatever there is in you that is literal and irreducible, and you tried to answer that question, the answer may be something like this: I want to feel that I am thoroughly and completely understood so that now and then I can take my guard down and look out around me and not feel that I will be destroyed with my defenses down. I want to feel completely vulnerable, completely naked, completely exposed and absolutely secure.
This is what you look for in your children when you have them, this is what you look for in your husband if you get one. That I can run the risk of radical exposure and know that the eye that beholds my vulnerability will not step on me. That I can feel secure in my awareness of the active presence of my own idiom in me.
So as I live my life then, this is what I am trying to fulfill. It doesn’t matter whether I become a doctor, lawyer, housewife. I’m secure because I hear the sound of the genuine in myself and having learned to listen to that, I can become quiet enough, still enough, to hear the sound of the genuine in you.
Sermon
I enter the trauma room and stand off to the side, watching. A young man, barely a man, lies before me on a stretcher. He is combative, fighting with the medical staff about having his pants taken off, demanding the two police officers in the room be removed, and refusing to give his name or any information about what happened to him. I watch as he alternates between fighting and yelling with the staff and curling over on his side and crying about how much it hurts. He was found, by police, lying in a snowbank; a victim of assault. Not much is known, yet, though he is clearly injured on one side. His appearance; young, male, ears and tongue pierced, arm tattooed; and his manner; refusing to give his name or story in front of the police, his anger and combativeness toward the medical staff; give rise to a myriad of possible labels and stories, none of them flattering. Then he turns on his side once more, curls up into a ball, and cries about the pain. My heart breaks open. A part of me knows this young man could be … a gangbanger, a person accustomed to being in trouble with the law, an innocent victim, or a thousand other things.
But none of that matters now. The possible labels and stories have fallen away. All I can see now is a young boy; crying, in pain, and needing comfort. My heart has broken open. I move closer, encourage him to breathe, and rub his head in comfort. His chaplain is there. Someone who cares, not just about his body and its broken condition; but about his feelings and his spirit, which have also been broken. He has been seen and his need for emotional comfort and spiritual healing has been acknowledged.
Years ago, I worked as a chaplain resident in an intensive clinical pastoral education program. The hospital where I served is a Level 1 trauma center and contains the state’s only burn unit. It is located in a city filled with violent crime and gang activity. Patients seen cover a wide range of diagnoses; from gunshot wounds and stabbings to appendicitis; from cancer treatments and life-threatening burns to dehydration or frostbite and they cover all ages, from the not-yet-born to elders dying in hospice suites. The program itself is demanding even, at times, grueling. Residents are there to learn how to do pastoral care, in all of its forms, well. Eventually, they move on to churches and hospices, hospitals and synagogues; wherever they are called and feel the call. Meanwhile, the most is made of their time in the program; work-weeks range from 60 to 64 hours; some shifts lasting as long as 28 hours at a time. Written work and assignments are in addition to those hours. My aim in telling you all of this is to explain how easy it is to become jaded in such a setting. It takes a significant amount of dedication and commitment from anyone who chooses to do a residency. And I will admit, there were times when I questioned my own levels of dedication and commitment, especially after a long and sleep-deprived night. But … this night and this patient I just spoke of was not one of those times.
Though I eventually found out his name and that he had been beaten by several guys who he is going to “get” someday; I never did get the chance to talk with him and find out who he really is as a person and what his story was about. The next hour or so had been spent alternating between resisting staff and their attempts at medical care and allowing himself to be comforted and soothed by the chaplain. Eventually, he fell asleep, from sheer exhaustion, and for several hours. I did not see him again, though his presence remains with me still, for my heart had been broken open.
I do not know how or why these moments of broken-openness come and go, just that they do. I consider these moments of broken-openness to be moments of seeing, of truly seeing, or “essentially seeing” as Mark Nepo has termed it or “the sound of the genuine” as Howard Thurman has so eloquently described. I consider these moments of heart-broken-openness to be moments of amazing grace.
Amazing Grace. There is a story behind the song; one which you have probably heard. It goes like this … John Newton was a slave trader, who after surviving a horrific storm, became suddenly wracked with guilt about his chosen profession. Newton immediately turned his ship back to Africa, freed all his slaves, and, as a newly-converted Christian, wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace”. Now, as heart-warming as that story sounds, it is unlikely to be a story Newton himself would recognize. That story is really the legend behind the song. It does not reflect the sound of the genuine John Newton.
So today, I am going to tell you a different story; a different story about the same person and one, hopefully, John Newton would better recognize. This one is a story about a young boy frequently in trouble for disobeying his father, who grew into a young man impressed in the British navy. Of a deserter who was caught, publicly stripped and beaten, then demoted to the lowest rank. Of a slave trader brought back to life – by slaves sneaking him food from their own small allowance. Of a slave trader locked up by his own master – who went without food, shelter, or clothing – for many hours at a time; yet, still continued to trade slaves after he was rescued.
It is the story of a man who drank and swore too much, who derided Christians, who was disliked by his fellow crew yet was saved by them when he nearly went overboard in a drunken stupor. It is the story of a man who twice, by two different captains on two different ships, avoided drowning when he was sent on a last-minute errand. It is the story of a man who got shot in the hat, lived through at least two tropical diseases, one mutiny, and three slave revolts.
It is also the story of a 23 year old who converted to Christianity- yet continued to trade slaves. Of a 39 year old who became a priest, of a 47 year old who wrote a hymn, of a 60 year old who finally began to speak out against slavery – and continued to do so for 22 more years. John Newton’s story is NOT an easily-reducible story (as no one’s really is); and it is NOT the story of legend. John Newton’s story IS the story of a human life, of painfully slow growth, and change, and finally, transformation. This John Newton story reflects “the sound of the genuine” in one former slave-trader come priest. His story is a story of amazing grace. His story is a story of a heart broken open.
Knowing this story, the longer, deeper, fuller, though still-not-complete story, brings richer and deeper meaning to the words of this famous hymn. Listen, once more, with eyes and ears and hearts open, if you will …
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.
Twas grace which taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils, and storms I have already come.
Twas grace which brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home.
When John Newton penned the words “through many dangers, toils, and storms, I have already come” he wasn’t exaggerating; not by a long shot. Like all of us, his life was full of its own dangers and challenges and near misses. His life was replete with its own tragedies and sorrows. As my life is … and your life is … and all of my patients’ lives were … As Unitarian Universalists it is from our lives; from our direct, lived experiences that we build our thea/olgies and philosophies about what is sacred; about what is holy; about what gives meaning to our lives and what our lives mean.
This journey of meaning-making and discovery and, hopefully, self-growth is never-ending. William Ellery Channing, one of our early and most famous forebears, believed that this process (which he and other 19th century Unitarians termed self-culture) continued even past death and into the afterlife. Either way, we all continue, throughout our lives, to make meaning and to discover anew, as did I, during the time I spent working as a chaplain. Here are a few of the things I learned:
All of us, and any of us, can and do feel lonely and isolated at times and it is not a matter how many people we are surrounded by. Each of us, any of us, can get wrapped up in our own pain and suffering and when this happens we are often unable to see the loneliness and pain and suffering of others who surround us. I have often walked into a hospital room and discovered a person who is sitting, or lying, in isolation and loneliness and who is suffering. Though the hospital is 430 beds full, and almost all of the people who fill those beds are experiencing some kind of pain or suffering, each person feels alone. Alone, in the middle of four hundred and thirty other people, also feeling alone. And I daresay, there may be people right here, there probably are people right here, sitting in this room, amongst all these people, who feel lonely; at least sometimes. It can be as if each person is blind to the suffering of others and cannot see through their own pain. This is a natural phenomenon, inherent to the experience of being human, and can easily happen to any of us when we are hurting deeply.
So please hear me well. I do not mean any of this as criticism of any person or even as a critique of the human condition. Rather, I see these moments as opportunities; opportunities for grace; maybe even for amazing grace.
“Grace”, as a theological concept, traditionally refers to the grace of God. Though there are multiple definitions of exactly what grace is within Christianity, I like to explain it as a gift, neatly packaged and tied with a divine bow. Christians, may or may not believe grace is deserved, and they may differ on ideas about how grace is earned, or even if it is earned; but it seems that no matter what, by anyone’s definition, grace is always unexpected. When John Newton wrote “Amazing Grace” he certainly was referring to a Christian concept of the divine grace of God. Today, though, I’d like to argue that there is such a thing as human grace; a grace that, like divine grace, may or may not be earned, but is certainly always unexpected.
I believe that each of us needs to be seen, heard, known, affirmed, and validated in our pain and in our suffering and even in our joy. I believe this needs to happen whether we are lying in a hospital bed or sitting in a pew on Sunday morning; whether we are at a gathering of friends or standing by the grave of a loved one. No one’s life is just like another’s, even when we are experiencing similar life circumstances. Each person’s experience is unique and must be seen for what it is. And when someone comes along and sees another’s pain, or joy, or sorrow, sees it’s essential truth, and sees the person behind the emotion; whether that someone is your chaplain or your minister, your friend or a stranger to you; you have been a recipient of grace. Human grace; extended from one human to another; yet no less holy than any kind of divine grace.
I believe that when we can see, when we can essentially see, the truth of another’s life through their own eyes and hearts, then our hearts are broken open and our lives are filled with amazing grace.
May it be so. Amen and Blessed Be.
Benediction:
With hearts open, and with a love which knows no bounds, may your spirits be filled with amazing grace.
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