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Brian Ferguson
December 28, 2008
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org
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Reading
Impassioned Clay
by Ralph N. Helverson
Deep in ourselves resides the religious impulse.
Out of the passions of our clay it rises.
We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient,
self-sustaining or self-derived.
We have religion when we hold some hope beyond the present,
some self-respect beyond our failures.
We have religion when our hearts are capable of leaping up
at beauty,
when our nerves are edged by some dream in our heart.
We have religion when we have an abiding gratitude for all
that we have received.
We have religion when we look upon people with all their
failings and still find in them good;
when we look beyond people to the grandeur in nature and to the purpose in our
our own heart.
We have religion when we have done all that we can,
and then in confidence entrust ourselves to the life that is
larger than ourselves.
Prayer
As we take this time, may we become in touch with the deepest desires of our hearts and memories of our minds. We are creatures with knowledge of our past and hopes for the future.
In recalling our past may we find the humility to learn from both our failures and success. In anticipating our future may we find the strength and courage to challenge ourselves to become more of what we desire to be.
As the adversities of our life remind us of our illusions of control and delusions of independence, may they also remind us of those who can help us and our interdependence with others.
In times of our greatest vulnerability and uncertainty, may we remember the moments of our highest resolve. And in doing so may our life be the embodiment of our highest ideals and an inspiration to all around us.
Amen.
Sermon: Time to Change – again!
As we approach the end of the calendar year, I find myself thinking about that difficult subject of time. The year 2009 is almost upon us and I am one of those people who hasn’t quite got their mind around being in the 21st century and soon we will be in the second decade of it. But when I talk about the difficulty of time I do not just mean the speed with which it goes by or the seeming shortage of time.
I have that constant struggle I have to live in the present. My mind constantly planning ahead to the short term task ahead, like eating lunch, or longer term out to next year, “where am I going to get a job?” When not thinking about the future then I think about my decisions of the past the good ones, a year ago I really didn’t think I’d be living in Texas, or regrets, why did I think this would be a good sermon topic? My mind seems to make only fleeting visits to the present before concerning itself with thoughts for the future and memories of the past.
Midnight on Wednesday as the calendar flips to another year there will be that mixture of poignancy for the past along with hope and perhaps some anxiety for the time ahead. For some of us we will be happy to see the back of 2008 for the hardship and losses we endured. For others we will reflect on a year well-lived and enter the New Year filled with anticipation and optimism. Many of us enter the New Year with externally imposed changes which we had little control over.
As I consider my own situation as intern minister here I am in the middle of my year internship while simultaneously ending it here at First Austin and about to begin a new stage at the Liveoak church. I now understand Jean Luc Godard’s phrase “A story should have a beginning, middle, and an end but not necessarily in that order.” My current situation is simultaneously a beginning, middle and an end. Time is a tricky concept.
The end of a calendar year also imposes on our lives transition points, often artificially, as work contracts and projects end or deadlines imposed by the Christmas season itself. The busyness of the Christmas season can also become such a focus for many of us that it becomes difficult to plan for the time after until we get through Christmas. At this time between Christmas and New Year is when we have the time and energy to take measure of the past and look towards the future.
The month of January is a somewhat arbitrary beginning for a new year since it does not correspond to the beginning of an agricultural season or astronomical cycle. The month of January is named after the Roman God Janus, who had two faces which allowed him to simultaneously look forward to the future and backwards to the past. The tradition of New Year resolutions is also traced to the God Janus and when taken seriously New Year resolutions are about looking at our behaviors of the past and envisioning how we could do better in the future.
As individuals many of us in small ways or perhaps even in significant ways undertake the tradition of New Year resolutions. The most common resolutions are: losing weight, getting fit, eating better, quitting smoking, drinking less alcohol, paying off debt, spending more time with the family, volunteering to help others more, and just being less grumpy. Some of these might be useful goals for many of us. And probably very similar goals to last year, and the year before and the year before that. Or perhaps that is just me. I actually thought that I might take up smoking just so that I could give it up thus fulfilling at least one resolution this year.
Of course the joke of so much of New Year resolutions is how little time it takes to fail in keeping them and how we desire the same changes each year. There is a whole industry around this such as gym membership which sky-rockets in January as the next cycle of resolutions for weight loss and greater fitness begin. While the idea of New Year resolutions can be shrugged off as just another silly example of human nature and the large disconnect between our spoken desires and our actual behavior, I do think the idea touches on a real desire for many of us to live better than we have done and the great difficulty we have in doing so.
Our Unitarian tradition of the 19th and 20th Century has focused on the self-improvement of the person and has been summarized as “Salvation by Character”.
Salvation in our Unitarian tradition was about individuals improving themselves and working towards their own and others moral improvement. We moved the emphasis from a faith in and obedience to a God to an emphasis on improving ourselves to become better, more ethical people, and this improvement was often expressed as becoming more God-like. The 19th Century Unitarian Minister William Ellery Channing said “To honor God, is to approach God as an inexhaustible Fountain of light, power, and purity. It is to feel the quickening and transforming energy of his perfections. It is to thirst for the growth and invigoration of the divine principle within us, and to seek the very spirit of God which proposes as its great end the perfection of the human soul.”
Now I think it is fair to say that most people do not think of their New Year resolutions as the perfecting of the human soul. Yet in their own way, New Year resolutions are about becoming a better person – physically, emotionally or even spiritually – tomorrow than you were yesterday. I wonder if the reason we do not take our resolutions or other desires to change seriously is that we do not aim high enough with our demands on ourselves? The desire for human improvement in our Unitarian tradition led to a great emphasis on the education of people. This belief is still strong in our movement with our strong support and belief in public education for all people.
For example, our split the plate donation today is going towards the American-Nepali Student and Women’s Educational Relief organization. This group, which we will support with half of our offering from today’s service, supports 12-15 years of education for children from the lower castes in Nepal. Our tradition of human improvement and belief in education has taken on a global perspective today, showing a growing focus for our social justice work that is in keeping with our religious tradition. As someone who was the first generation of my family to attend college I know of the transformative effects and opportunities that an education provides.
Religion for many of us is about the transformation of the individual and our society for the better. Transformation for individuals comes generally as a result of an interaction of external circumstances and our internal motivations. Many people come into our religious community desiring change in their lives perhaps by seeking a community where they can pursue spiritual questions, engage in social justice work, or find meaning for the changes their lives. All these can be acts of transformation.
The struggle many of us have in enacting transformations within ourselves is how we go from often vague desires for change into more firm beliefs until we engrain these beliefs as habits. I learned something about this struggle during my chaplaincy training last year where I was working with military veterans who had mental health concerns and addictions. By the time I was working with them many had reached a crisis in their life due to their addiction and were desperate for help.
There was a common pattern where there was a tendency for them to either blame everyone else or blame themselves for all of their problems. Much of the work I did was to explore where the blame should belong then encourage them to take the appropriate responsibility for their actions. Through the 12-step program of alcoholics anonymous there was a strong group support for the patient and the encouraging of humility in admitting the need of help from a higher power.
For many of the people I worked with they had admitted they were powerless to resist alcohol and chose to replace their addiction with a healthier, higher power which often gave them strength to address their addiction.
The major lesson I learned from these veterans was how they struggled with their addiction everyday. As one of them said to me “The difficulty is not to stop drinking but to stay sober every day. Stopping drinking isn’t hard. Not starting again is.” The discipline of choosing everyday not to drink alcohol for them was a huge act of self-control and I believe it to be a spiritual discipline.
In our Liberal Religious tradition much of our religion is to guide us in how we should act and how we should make decisions.
I see a commonality between how our religion guides us to enact changes in our own lives and how those in 12-Step programs were attempting to help people address their addictions. To take a vague desire of how I wish to be different and change it into a belief that I will act on a daily requires a commitment from me and the support of my community which holds me accountable. Enacting these beliefs in my words and actions is a daily spiritual discipline I engage in and often fail at.
As I fail at living up to my beliefs I am fortunate that the consequences are not as severe as those with addictions who I served as a chaplain to. I deal with my disappointment, reflect on why I failed to live to my expectations then begin the cycle again.
By letting go of any attachment towards any need of perfection and just focus on improvement allows me to show compassion to myself and stay engaged in changing my beliefs and habits. This model of action, reflection, and action with consistent emphasis on improvement not perfection is a simple yet significant approach for me to enact change in my life. For many Unitarian Universalists it can be hard for us to settle for simple improvement and not obsess about perfection. It is said that, “The pursuit of excellence is gratifying and healthy. The pursuit of perfection is frustrating, neurotic, and a terrible waste of time.” In this vein I want to share with you a resolution I arrived at that guides much of my life.
There is a lot of talk, at least among seminarians with too much spare time, that we really need to find some guiding principles to help us in daily life. Of course, I undertook up this project with serious intellectual rigor hoping to arrive at some weighty, profound ethical principal. In truth, the outcome for me was on the surface a disappointment. My guiding principle is that I only want to make brand new mistakes.
The satisfaction of making the same mistake as others is a shallow, frustrating consolation and I don’t want to make the same mistakes as others by reinventing another broken wheel. By not wanting to the mistakes of the past then I learn from history and by accepting that I am going to make mistakes, albeit new ones, allows me to move forward into unknown areas and overcome the fear of failure. I have actually found this seemingly superficial guiding principle of only making new mistakes quite liberating.
This thinking may also be beneficial for organizations such as a religious community. Organizations seem to settle into a common behavioral pattern which prevents change and seems to condition any new person to conform to the expected behavior of the organization. Yet if the goal of religion is individual and community growth then we want an organizational structure that encourages change of individuals and renewal of the organization itself not stifle transformations.
A community that learns from the past and takes risks moving forward will make brand new mistakes by pushing boundaries. Hesitancy and resistance to change are understandable but limiting. If we wish to make brand new mistakes then we have to overcome our resistance to change as individuals and as a religious community. What is so bad about a mistake – especially one that no-one has made before?
As adults we become very conscious of what others think of us and we often do not wish to appear less than competent. Ask a group of Kindergarden children if they can sing or can dance then almost all of them would raise their hand enthusiastically and they would be very keen to show you. As we get older, our inhibitions seem to set in and our desire to try new activities or approaches diminishes. We encourage children to make mistakes and to learn. We develop for them compassionate boundaries for them to push against and we support them in their struggles and failures.
As adults we lose the ability to appear vulnerable or fallible. I feel we limit ourselves by not allowing ourselves to make mistakes. As the poem Suzy read earlier said “We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient, self-sustaining or self-derived. We have religion when we hold some hope beyond the present, some self-respect beyond our failures.”
There is a myth of competency we wish to project. Yet I think most of us have learned more from our mistakes than our successes. Those times we pushed ourselves into unknown areas, further than we intended beyond our comfort zone. By doing so we grow as people as we break down those barriers we have raised for ourselves or others attempted to impose on us.
Mistakes are almost a prerequisite for growth and success. Michael Jordan, the great basketball player, said “I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”
I would venture to say that perhaps the only real failure is to not attempt something that you really wish to do. When we think about our own life then we rarely regret what we did do, – now I’m only talking about legal activities here – our major regrets are those times where we did not do something when we had opportunity. Even when our efforts do not work out then we generally learn something, even if the lesson was to never to do that again. When we choose not to even attempt something for fear of failure then our learning opportunity is missed.
Of course to accept the possibility of our making a mistake involves us being willing to take a risk. The following words from the poem “To Risk” capture much of our struggles concerning our aversion to risk.
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk exposing our true self.
To place our ideas – our dreams – before the crowd is to risk loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
To live is to risk dying.
I would say that all of these actions – to laugh, weep, reach out, dream, to love, to hope, to try – are acts of coming alive and truly living. They all involve a risk but a risk of what – appearing foolish or sentimental, not being loved, exposing our true feelings. These may be sources of discomfort but are not character flaws. By growing from and beyond our failures and mistakes, we are coming alive to all of life’s possibilities. With knowledge of the past and imagination for the future we can make our whole life be a spiritual practice -breaking down the artificial barriers between the secular and the sacred, between ourselves and others. In doing this we awaken our soul to the excitement and nourishment of the complete spiritual life.
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Cassara, Ernest Biography of Hosea Ballou http://www25.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/hoseaballou.html Last accessed on December 27, 2008
Channing, William Ellery, Likeness to God: William Ellery Channing Selected Writing Robinson, David ed., (New York: Paulist Press, 1985) p.156
Hansel, Tim, Eating Problems for Breakfast (Word Publishing, 1988) p.39 quote from Edwin Bliss
Anonymous. To Risk Singing the Living Tradition (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1993) #658
