Sermons

Fools’ Service
4-1-07
Rev. Douglas Taylor

There was a man who was stranded on a desert island for many, many years.  One day, while strolling along the beach, he spotted a ship in the distance.  This had never happened in all the time he was on the island, so he was very excited about the chance of being rescued.  Immediately, he built a fire on the beach and generated as much smoke as possible.  It worked!  Soon, the ship was heading his way.  When the ship was close enough to the island, a dinghy was dispatched to investigate the situation.  The man on the island was overjoyed with the chance to be rescued and met his saviors as they landed.  After some preliminary conversation the man in charge asked the man on the island how he had survived for so many years.  The man replied by telling of his exploits for food and how he was able to make a fine house to live in.

“In fact,” the man said, “you can see my home from here.  It’s up there on the ridge.”  He pointed the men in the direction of his home.  They looked up and saw three buildings.  They inquired about the other buildings next to the man’s house and he replied, “The far one, that’s my church – I go there to worship on Sundays.”

They were greatly impressed by the man’s obvious piety.  When they asked about the middle building the man’s face clouded over, “That’s where I used to go to church.”

Charlie Chaplin has said “Laughter is the tonic, the relief, the surcease for pain.”  I have come to see laughter as a vital part of life.  I don’t mean life should be a laugh a minute and that I feel ready to give up my day job for the life of a stand up comic.  Simply that life is full of tragic suffering and hardship that can overwhelm a person.  Laughter makes life sweet.  And life should be sweet.  Life is full of bitterness, laughter is a balm, a balancing mechanism to keep you steady.  “Laughter is the tonic, the relief, the surcease for pain.”  Certainly laughter can be an escape, but as such it can also serve as a release – a liberation from pride, arrogance, heartache and pain.

A Unitarian Universalist went on vacation and arranged for his mother to stay at his house and take care of his cat. And, just to be sure, he asked his minister if he would look in on them every day and make sure they were all right. “No problem,” said the minister. The man flew off to Mexico and after a couple of days he called the minister and asked how things were going.

“Well,” the minister said, “your cat died.”

“Wow! You call yourself a minister? Do you have to come right out and tell me like that? Couldn’t you have a little more consideration? I’m on vacation. Couldn’t you have broken it to me a little more gently? Like first telling me that the cat was on the roof, then that the cat fell off the roof, then maybe the next day telling me you had taken the cat to the vet-like that, not BOOM all at once! By the way, how’s my mom doing?”

“Well, she’s up on the roof. . .”

One professor, in an evaluation of me, wrote: Douglas has a well developed sense of the absurd, a quality that will be put to good use in his ministry.  Granted, humor and holiness are not always seen as compatible. Faith is serious business after all and much of what passes for humor these days is far from holy!  But consider: one of the goals of religion is the sorting of priorities; of putting first things first.  Humor has a delightful way of poking at misaligned priorities.  In some ways, there has always been a deep connection between laughter and my own call to ministry.

There is a story of a young boy who suddenly announced to his mother after church one morning, “Mom, I’ve decided I’m going to be a preacher when I grow up.”

“O, my darling boy,” the mother gushed, “Tell me what made you decide to be a preacher.”

“Well,” the boy replied, “I’ll have to go the church on Sunday anyway, I figure it would be more fun to stand up front and yell.”

I’ve been overheard to say, “If we’re not having fun, why are we doing it!”  And I mean that not as a rhetorical question only.  Perhaps the answer will occasionally be that we are doing something that is not fun because it is really important.  But I think it also suggests that just because it is important and serious work we do need not always approach our work with an absence of humor.

Laughter has not always had a good rap among theologians and philosophers. The early Greek philosophers saw laughter as a mixture of anxiety and pleasure – part of that old slippery-slope into immorality.  They saw it as a great moral danger and potential weapon.  As if to laugh is to succumb to some great inner flaw or at least as a temptation toward vice.  Plato held the perspective that laughter arises from our desire to feel superior over other people. Aristotle was a little more sympathetic claiming laughter to be the cathartic potential of both tragedy and comedy.  However, he further believed that laughter was intimately related to ugliness and debasement.

The early Christian church was a fair mix of both Jewish thought and Greek thought.  Jewish thought has always held a valued place for joy.  One commentator noted that while professional comedians make up 5% of the population in the United States, something like 80% have been Jewish.  Clearly the Greek thought won out on the question of humor in Christianity for a long time.  The Early Christian Church denounced laughter on the grounds that Christ wept but never laughed….so weeping alone led to unity with God.  Recent Biblical commentators have released Jesus from such dour friends citing the subtle irony found in several parables and sayings.  “Let me help you take that speck out of your eye while I walk around with the large beam in my own!”  Come on, that’s funny!  Much of humor is a sudden juxtaposition of what you expected and another unexpected reality.

A little boy was walking down a dirt road after church one Sunday afternoon when he came to a crossroads where he met a little girl coming from the other direction.
“Hello,” said the little boy.
“Hi,” replied the little girl.
“Where are you going?” asked the little boy.
“I’ve been to church this morning and I’m on my way home,” answered the little girl.
“Me too,” replied the little boy. “I’m also on my way home from church.”
“Which church do you go to?” asked the little boy.
“I go to the Unitarian Universalist church back down the road,” replied the little girl.
“What about you?”
“I go to the Catholic church back at the top of the hill,” replied the little boy.
They discover that they are both going the same way so they decided that they’d walk together.
They came to a low spot in the road where spring rains had partially flooded the road so there was no way that they could get across to the other side without getting wet.
“If I get my new Sunday dress wet my Mom’s going to skin me alive,” said the little girl.
“My Mom’ll tan my hide too if I get my new Sunday suit wet,” replied the little boy.
“I tell you what I think I’ll do,” said the little girl. “I’m gonna pull off all my clothes and hold them over my head and wade across.”
“That’s a good idea,” replied the little boy. “I’m going to do the same thing with my suit.”
So they both undressed and waded across to the other side without getting their clothes wet.
They were standing there in the sun waiting to drip dry before putting their clothes back on when the little girl finally remarked, “You know, I never did realize before just how much difference there really is between Catholics and Unitarian Universalists.”

It is the sudden juxtaposition of what you expected and another unexpected reality.

But those early Greeks are not to be completely discounted.  All humor does contain an impulse, however faint, of anxiety and aggression.  Which is why much of humor depends on context.  What is the setting and who is hearing the joke?  Ethically speaking, it is fair to make a joke about yourself or your group – any group you feel strongly connected to.  It is good to be able to laugh at yourself.  It is, conversely, unethical and offensive to tell a joke that makes fun of another person or group.  For example, I, like most Unitarian Universalists love Garrison Keiler and enjoy his occasional jokes about Unitarians.  Technically, however, we are serving as a favored whipping boy for his wit.  Having noticed this a little while ago, it has not stopped me from enjoying his program and I’m not suggesting anyone should make a fuss about it.  But rather I think it is a fine opportunity for me to pause and notice who do I make fun of?  What do I laugh at?  What does that say about me?  I try to be aware of it.  I also try to use humor in the pulpit with care, striving to poke fun at myself and at my own groups.

How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a lightbulb?

None. We believe it must change by itself.  We’re not in the business of telling anyone they HAVE to change.

How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a light bulb?

Eight. One to do it, seven to make sure that the power doesn’t go to his or her head.

How Many Unitarian Universalists does it take to Change a light bulb?

We’re not in agreement as to whether the Lightbulb really exists or if it just another myth.

How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a lightbulb?

We strenuously object to the term ‘lightbulb.’ We believe there are many ways of darkness dispersion and so would not want to participate in an activity validating the lightbulb as the exclusive light source.

How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a lightbulb?

We choose not to make a statement either in favor or against the need for a lightbulb.  However, if in your own journey, you have found that lightbulbs work for you, that’s fine.  You are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your personal relationship with your lightbulb and present it next month at our annual lightbulb Sunday service, in which we will explore a number of lightbulb traditions including incandescent, florescent, halogen, three-way, and even candle light all of which are equally valid paths of luminescence.

Science Fiction author Robert Heinlein said “One man’s theology is another man’s belly laugh.”

Two Unitarian Universalists were debating their knowledge of Christianity.  One said, “I bet you don’t even know even know the Lord’s Prayer!”

“Oh really,” the other responded, “I bet you ten bucks I do!”

“You’re on.  Let’s hear it.”

The second man began to recite: “The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. … ”

The first man cut him off saying, “That’s not the Lord’s Prayer, that’s the 23rd Psalm.  The Lord’s Prayer goes, ‘Now I lay me down to sleep and pray the lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take’”

The second man looked him in the eye and said, “Alright, you win.”

Researchers have been studying the effects of laughter on the immune system. To date their published studies have shown that laughing lowers blood pressure, reduces stress hormones, increases muscle flexion, and boosts immune function by raising levels of infection-fighting T-cells, disease-fighting proteins called Gamma-interferon and B-cells, which produce disease-destroying antibodies. Laughter also triggers the release of endorphins, the body’s natural painkillers, and produces a general sense of well-being.  Dr. Michael Miller, director of the Center for Preventive Cardiology at the University of Maryland Medical Center conducted a significant study of this and concluded that “The recommendation for a healthy heart may one day be exercise, eat right and laugh a few times a day”

The poor country pastor was livid when he confronted his wife with the receipt for a $250 dress she had bought. “How could you do this!” he exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” she wailed, “I was standing in the store looking at the dress. Then I found myself trying it on. It was like the Devil was whispering to me, ‘Gee, you look great in that dress. You should buy it.’”
“Well,” the pastor persisted, “You know how to deal with him! Just tell him, ‘Get behind me, Satan!’” “I did,” replied his wife, “but then he said, ‘It looks great from back here, too!’”

Life is too serious to be taken so seriously.  Humor challenges pretentiousness, pokes fun at pomposity, negates preconceived notions.  In this way it is a risk.  Any time an opening is made in our expectations and our fixed ideas of life there is a risk that we will uncover the dangerous opportunity of growth.  I believe that a religious community such as ours, at its best, presents a radical perspective that is different from the standard accepted perspective on life.  Humor is a wonderful tool not only to boost your blood pressure, it can also heal your heart and give you the wherewithal to face the serious work we have before us of making our world a better place and as well as making our own lives and the lives of others sweeter.

A visiting minister was leading the service began the morning’s prayer saying “Dear Lord,” with arms extended and a rapturous look on his upturned face, “We know we are but dust”

During the dramatic pause, one obedient little girl (who was listening carefully for a change) leaned forward and asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, “Mommy, What is butt dust?”

Church was pretty much over at that point.

In a world without end,

May it be so.

The Fundamentalists Love My Cousin
Rev. Douglas Taylor
3-4-07

Every now and then during one of the Newcomer’s events we host here at the church a new person will say with a sigh of relief, “I like this place because you practice what you preach; you really live out what you say you stand for.”  And I’m quick to say, “wait around a little, …”  I’m quick to point out that we’re a bunch of hypocrites here just like every religious community you’ll bump into because every faith community worth its mettle calls its people to be more than they are.  Every religious community holds out ideals by which the people measure themselves – ideals that are like the North Star that we can point to but can not reach.  In this respect we’re no different.  We fail to live up to our ideals just like every one else.  What I think Unitarian Universalism does have that perhaps fulfills something of what these newcomers see in us is our commitment to self-evaluation and self-critique.

We say we believe in diversity: racial, economical, and theological; and yet we must regularly look around at one another and ask how we are doing on those counts.  We say there is not a litmus test to membership.  There is no creed you must subscribe to and neither is there a political or social issue that you must accept before you are accepted.  And yet we need to call ourselves on that count from time to time.  We say we honor all faith perspectives and encourage one another to find the valuable truths contained within all the world’s religions, and in particular we honor all people who strive to live as their faith or philosophy calls them to live.  But sometimes we need to look around and listen to the way we talk to find out if we are perhaps not living up to this ideal, to check if we are perhaps being hypocrites in this regard from time to time.  And it is toward this last illustration of the pattern that I have been steering.  Now and then I see we are not as respectful of certain other religious perspectives as we claim to be.

Many individual Unitarian Universalists tell a story of breaking away from an old set of beliefs; a rejection that echoes the broader story of Unitarian Universalist history.  The pattern for our tradition began by breaking away – rejecting old ideas and practices, casting out useless and worn out creeds – breaking away, then struggling with a new identity based on a minority opinion of conscience, followed by eventually joining together with others in a community based on religious freedom, acceptance, and shared discovery.  This story of how Unitarianism and Universalism began is similar to the story numerous individuals go through to reach our doors today.  Many Unitarian Universalist came to this faith after leaving the religion in which they were raised.  Of those who fit that experience, most of them by far have left Christian roots behind to join with this community.  One impact of this is that Christianity, among all other faith tradition, holds a unique relationship for us. Unitarian Universalists have been accused of secretly (and sometimes not-so-secretly) harboring an anti-Christian sentiment.

For a variety of reason the Fundamentalist Christians carry the greatest portion of this sentiment, it seems.  Fundamentalism has been described to me by colleagues and congregants as ignorant, brain-washing, evil, and/or dangerous.  Fundamentalism is defined in the dictionary as any movement, though usually a religious movement, characterized by “a return to fundamental principles;” it is also marked by rigid obedience to these principles and typically an “intolerance of other views.”  (The American Heritage Dictionary)   By this definition, any faith tradition can have a fundamentalist streak within it.  Or any political, social, or academic philosophy can take on the ‘fundamentalist’ label provided it is a return to fundamental principles, strict obedience to said principles, and intolerance of other perspectives.  Technically, there could be a Unitarian Universalist fundamentalism by this definition.  It could happen; and, arguably, has been attempted.  There recently was a group calling itself the American Unitarian Conference, which listed as its primary mission a return to Unitarianism as expressed by William Ellery Channing.  But that is a tangent from my point which merely was to illustrate that it could happen.

Fundamentalism is not limited to the American phenomenon of Christian Fundamentalism.  Our own Dick Antoun has written a book about Fundamentalism, a book I might add that appears as an authoritative source cited on the online encyclopedia, Wikapedia, under the topic of Fundamentalism.  Antoun lifts out the parallels among Christian, Islamic, and Jewish Fundamentalisms such as the quest for purity, scriptural inerrancy with selective modernization, and the reverence of a mythic past.   It is an excellent comparative guide.  This morning I wish, however, to compare not the different forms of Fundamentalism, but one specific form of it compared with our own faith tradition.

Christian Fundamentalism is the brand of Fundamentalism which was the first to adorn itself with that moniker.  Other groups that are given the label ‘Fundamentalist’ have rebelled against the tag due to its negative connotation.  Fundamentalists are viewed as backward-thinking, ignorant, extremists who are prone to fanaticism.  This is an unfair caricature.  As one historian writes, “Fundamentalism looked implausible to everyone who stood outside it. But within the movement there were dedicated and intelligent people who provided highly informed arguments for their case.” (Marty, Martin.  Modern Religion Vol. 2: 1919 – 1941, p161)

Historically, Fundamentalism is an American Protestant Christian phenomenon from the post-WWI era.  As a movement, it started among conservative Evangelicals. The purpose was to reaffirm traditional conservative Christianity and to “defend it against the challenges of liberal theology, German higher criticism, Darwinism, and other “-isms” it regarded as harmful to Christianity.” (Wikapedia: Fundamentalism)  Martin Marty, author and religious historian, defines Fundamentalism as a response to modernity.

If you recall Unitarian Universalist history, you may note that Unitarianism and Universalism are both specific Liberal Religious responses to Orthodoxy Christianity.  What I’m pointing out now is that Fundamentalism is a specific Orthodox Christian response to Liberal Religion.  In one sense Fundamentalism and Unitarian Universalism are doomed to an adversarial relationship as each is the embodiment of what the other exists to refute!  Sadly, this mere fact occasionally results is wildly hypocritical statements against fundamentalists from our corner.

Now, I am not suggesting that we have no right to offer critique to the Fundamentalist movement.  Indeed I have done so myself from time to time.  What I would like to suggest is a thoughtful critique.  For that we need to have some understanding of the perspective of a Fundamentalist.

From where I sit, it looks to me like all Fundamentalism offers its people is rules and fear.  It asks them to be obedient first and to think about things second.  It teaches them that doubt is a weakness of faith.  When there is an apparent conflict between Life as it is experienced and Life as it is described in scripture, Fundamentalism demands that its adherents trust scripture first.  At least, that is what it looks like from where I’m sitting; which may not tell you very much about Fundamentalism beyond why I am not part of it.

So what is the lure?  What does it offer that is so attractive that all these critiques I level against it mean little to nothing for those who call themselves Fundamentalists?  One thing it offers is certainty.  To have the answers!  That is unquestionably a draw for countless believers.

It offers a crystal-clear certainty that cuts through all confusion and anxiety.  It offers security and comfort.  Life is hard; there are troubles and pitfalls galore.  To know with iron-clad conviction that there are bad people out there causing this trouble that will be punished by God’s divine justice is very comforting – especially when you have suffered.  And what’s more: to know that there are bad people out there and that you are not one of them is an immense relief – offering a profound security and comfort.  The simplicity, the pure simplicity of the message is a powerful draw.  But I think the biggest attraction is not the certainty, the simplicity, or the security: it is just belonging.  The one thing that matters is that you are a member of the saved and all you had to do was accept the Fundamental beliefs!  Nothing else matters.  You can be rich or poor, Caucasian or Latina, educated or a high-school drop-out.  It doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that you believe; everything else is secondary.

In my reading I stumbled across a cleverly imagined dialogue between a Fundamentalist and Liberal written by Walter Lippmann, a prominent philosopher from the early 1900’s when Fundamentalism was forming.  Lippmann worked hard to be objective so as to achieve a better understanding of the dynamics at play.  Back at that time the terms for the two sides were Fundamentalist and Modernist.  The Modernist begins characteristically saying to the Fundamentalist:

“We can at least discuss it like gentlemen, without heat, without rancor.”  The Fundamentalist then would ask: “Has it ever occurred too you that this advice is easier for you to follow than for me?”  The Modernist would be put off: “How so?”  Then the Fundamentalist would reveal his involvement.  “Because for me an eternal plan of salvation is at stake.  For you there is nothing at stake but a few tentative opinions none of which mean anything to your happiness.”  It is hard to picture either Modernists or liberals recognizing their own side in that point, but for Lippmann this was an accurate rendering of the circumstance.  His Fundamentalist went on, revealing the emotions of at least one side.  “Your suggestion that I should be tolerant and amiable is, therefore, a suggestion that I submit the foundation of my life to the destructive effects of your skepticism, your indifference, and your good nature.  You ask me to smile and commit suicide.”  (Marty, Martin.  Modern Religion Vol. 2: 1919 – 1941, p162-3)

For a Fundamentalist the stakes are very high.  To be true to their faith they need to try to convert you, to save you.  It is part of how they live out their faith; it is the logical response to the principles of their faith and the fact of their love for you.  As a Unitarian Universalist, to be true to your faith you need to be open and tolerant even of Fundamentalists.  There is no way for this to be other than a conflict – if we each strive to be true to our principles.  And Unitarian Universalists are always telling everybody to be true to their principles!

From the perspective of the Fundamentalist it is as if you and I are leaning out of the window of a burning building asking if they would kindly come in and have a cup of tea.  Or we ask them to simply tolerate our views and leave us alone.  What, however, are they to do if they truly love us?  What if you saw your sibling, your child, your very dear friend leaning out of the window of a building on fire?  Would you not shout in alarm?  Would you not scream at them to get out?  And if they said to you, “There is no such thing as fire, you’re belief that my building in on fire is not my problem, it is yours; can’t we talk about something else?” while the fire crackles and sputters voraciously around them!  That is what it is like for them!  And from a Fundamentalist’s perspective, this illustration is not a metaphor, but a fundamental reality.

The world according to Fundamentalism is almost diametrically opposite from the world according to Unitarian Universalism except in a few important regards.  One exception is that for both groups it is important to live your life with integrity to your principles.  This commonality is largely why we end of on opposite sides of many social and theological issues, but it is a basic commonality nonetheless!  Both traditions expect their members to put the faith in action and to live with integrity to the basic principles.  Another major trait both groups share is a commitment to love.  The basic statement of any brand of Christianity is to love God and love your neighbor as yourself.  This trait in Unitarian Universalism is one simple indication that that we do still today have traces of our Christian heritage.  The Fundamentalists and the Unitarian Universalists have different ways of showing that love, but both groups share love’s commitment.  And, both groups are populated by regular people who fail to live up to the high principles and the call to love.  Both faith traditions are populated by hypocrites.

I trust that for a significant number of us here this morning this topic is not merely academic.  I trust that many of us have a dear friend or a relative who is a fundamentalist or at least a conservative evangelical.  (If such is not the case, I suggest you may need to get out more.)  My hope for each of us is that when we do fall into an adversarial conversation about faith with a fundamentalist friend or cousin that we will remember to be humble and loving.  We are allowed to respectfully disagree, but we’re not allowed to be mean.  Conversation does not equal conversion.  And if it helps, remember they are our brothers and sisters in faith; they love us and only want what is best for us.  And I trust the same could be said of what we want for them.

In a world without end

May it be so.

Unmediated
Rev. Douglas Taylor
2-18-07

There is a story of an adventurer who went out to explore uncharted regions.  He discovered majestic mountain ranges, rolling hillsides, waterfalls and river systems of unsurpassed beauty.  He returned to his home town and told the people of his adventures, he tried to convey the wonder and beauty with his words but eventually felt at a loss to express adequately what he had experienced.  And so he implored the people to seek out these sights for themselves.  They asked him to draw a map that they might see what he saw.  The adventurer complied with their request, hoping to inspire them.  They received his map with reverence, framed it and displayed it prominently.  Generations of scholars studied the map and the people prided themselves on possessing the key to such beauty and wonder – but never once did anyone else from that town ever set foot on the lands represented in the marvelous chart.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “When we can read God directly, the hour is too precious to be wasted in other men’s transcripts of their readings.” (American Scholar)  Emerson entreated us to each have an original experience of the universe, not necessarily a novel experience, simply your own.  “Feel the rain on your skin,” Natasha Bedingfield sings, “no one else can feel it for you.”  Beliefs, doctrines, and great books like the Bible are but maps, leave them behind, go forth and meet life, find yourself in the universe. No one else can do it for you.  Welcome to Unitarian Universalism.  Here we strive to help each other uncover experiences such as these.  We offer a great many maps but we affix a warning label to each one declaring that none are authoritative, yet all are reliable!

One of the activities that we do during the formal New UU class, held two or three times each year now, is called the Four Corners Game.  It starts with religious labels: do you consider yourself a Theist, a Humanist, or a Pagan? Each of these three theological perspectives is designated to a different corner.  The fourth corner is for everything else: mystics, agnostics, eclectics and those who are simply confused or uncertain.  Then, everyone in the room stands up, locates themselves and moves off to one corner or another.  Typically there are a few who try stand between two or more corners.  You know the joke: get two Unitarian Universalists in a room together and you’ll uncover three or more theological perspectives!  Next we run through a couple of questions about human nature, and folks line up on a continuum from one side of the room to the other: do you believe in free will or fate?  Are you determined by nature and genetics or by nurture and environment?  Remember you don’t have to pick one or the other.  This is a continuum: fit yourself along the line.  Are you on one side of the room or the other or somewhere in between?  Then we wrap up with a question that gets us back into the corners again.  The question is: by what authority to you claim to know that the religious perspectives you’ve been expressing are true?  How do you bolster your claim that what you’ve said is true?

The traditional sources of authority for religious truths are usually three (at least in western philosophy of religion): scripture, tradition, and reason.  I know it is true because I read it in the Bible; I know it is true because these are the answers that have been handed down over the year; I know it is true because it makes sense; it fits logically based on our parameters.  Perhaps you’re noticing that this offers only three corners to answer in the Four Corner game.  Perhaps you’re wondering if I will let the forth corner will be “a little of everything or a little bit confused” as I had done with the one about religious labels.  Sorry, no such luck.  But don’t blame me; blame the Methodists and their founder John Wesley who came up with what is known as the Wesleyan Quadrilateral.  The Wesleyan Quadrilateral outlines four sources of religious authority: scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.

So, you believe in God; you believe in free will; you believe we are a product of our genetic coding; you believe in angels, fairies, saints, pure energy, or human potential: by what authority do you claim to know that this is true?  How did you reach this conclusion?  Let’s set aside for the moment our liberal predilection for the ambiguous and the mysterious.  I’m not asking you if you are certain of your conclusion or convinced of the truth beyond a shadow of a doubt.  I’m only asking to the extent you are able to pin yourself down on a point or two: how did you do it?  There is a strong leaning among Unitarian Universalists toward the authority of reason and personal experience.  Scripture and Tradition: not so much!  Reason and Experience: “I believe it to be true because I’ve experienced it and it makes sense.”  In his great essay Self-Reliance, Emerson admonishes, “Trust yourself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”  And in the Divinity School Address he said, “Refuse all good models and dare to love God without mediator or veil.” The Transcendentalists such as Emerson captured the fullness of the sentiment that Experience can hold the authoritative claim above all other claims because by our intuition we run straight to the heart of God.

And this, because the heart in thee is the heart of all; not a valve, not a wall, not an intersection is there anywhere in nature, but one blood rolls uninterruptedly an endless circulation through all men, as the water of the globe is all one sea, and, truly seen, its tide is one.  Let man, then, learn the revelation of all nature and all thought to his heart; this, namely: that the Highest dwells with him.  (Oversoul)

The implication of such a connection is not only do we find no wall between us and the Divine, but in this same way we can know what is true and right and just.  Emerson writes:

We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity.  When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams.  (Self-Reliance)

Thus, according to Emerson, there is a Divine moral law inscribe in the heart and conscience of every person.  You recognize truth when you see it because you ‘lie in the lap’ of the source of truth – if you will but quiet the outer noise and open your eyes.

Or do you perhaps find a wall or veil or some sort of screen that does not allow passage?  Do you have a screen between you and the universe, between you and the truth?  Screens can come in the form of doctrines and beliefs that you use to filter all information that comes to you.  They can come in the form of powerful experiences from the past that limit your vision of what future experiences can be.  Screens can come in the form of the charismatic voice of another person compelling you to forsake your own perspective for that of another’s.  I wonder if anyone can really get to that point where they experience no screen between themselves and the universe.  I strive to recognize my veils: I know I look at the world with the perspective that all people have an inherent worth.  It colors my perception of events.

Perhaps the metaphor of a screen can even be applied to the literal screens or the television and computers in our homes.  And we suddenly develop a double entendre for the cry to be ‘unmediated.’  Is the media a screen between you and reality?  “Dare to love God without mediator or veil.”  Do you have a favorite media news source?  A friend shared with me an argument she fell into with someone about NPR news being a superior source of information over CNN.  It seems to me that if you choose to lock yourself into just one then you will certainly be setting up a screen to filter truth for yourself.  It seems to me seeking out a variety of sources of information is your best way to find clarity.  Which illustrates an interesting point.

Emerson said go it alone; to refuse all good models.  He said when we can read God directly, why waste our time reading transcripts written by other people.  He did not, however, mean that we should not read and seek information from other people.  He did not mean we should ignore all good models, only that we should not limit ourselves to them.  Indeed, were we to live only an inner life, ignoring scripture and tradition and the doctrines of others, we would decline quickly into a fantasy life with no basis in reality.  Indeed, were we to refuse absolutely to read the transcripts written by other people in favor of writing our own transcripts only, then by what lights would we measure our progress?  Emerson was a very well read scholar.  It is the world’s opinions we are to eschew, not the world’s facts.  Emerson writes:

It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. (Self-Reliance)

But this line of thinking is dangerous stuff.  Critics of Emerson to this day level the charge that people cannot be trusted with ideas such as these.  Here he is advising people to think for themselves, believe for themselves, discern good and evil or themselves, to declare truth for themselves.  Such can be done well, and such can also be done quite poorly.  Shortcuts can be rationalized and self-reliant ideals can be turned to self-serving fancy.  And perhaps too few pick up on Emerson’s coupling of such radical independence with critical self-evaluation.

About a week ago one of the syndicated opinion columnists in the Press & Sun Bulletin, George Will, wrote a piece about Ronald Reagan’s political theories having root in Emersonian thought.  The article was reviewing a new book “Ronald Reagan: Fate, Freedom, and the Making of History” by John Diggins.  George Will writes,

Diggins says Reagan imbibed his mother’s form of Christianity, a strand of 19th century Unitarianism from which Reagan took a foundational belief that he expressed in a 1951 letter: “God couldn’t create evil so the desires he planted in us are good.”  This logic – God is good, therefore so are God-given desires – leads to the Emersonian faith that we please God by pleasing ourselves.  Therefore there is no need for the people to discipline their desires.  So, no leader needs to suggest that the public has shortcomings and should engage in critical self-examination.

Now, I am not fluent in Reagan’s political theories, and I haven’t read Diggins’ book, and neither am I familiar enough with columnist George Will to tell you which of them has so grossly misunderstood Emersonian thought; so I won’t even try to assign blame.  Perhaps it is a like the party game called ‘telephone’ where you whisper a message along the line.  Reagan thinks this is what Emerson said, Diggins thinks this is what Reagan said, Will thinks this is what Diggins says and in the end I read this article and see statements attributed to Emerson that sound nothing like the man.  Emerson never said we please God by pleasing ourselves.  Emerson never implied that there was no need to discipline our desires.  Emerson was in favor of critical self-examination.  But then, it was Emerson who said, “To be great is to be misunderstood.”  This certainly applied to Emerson; I’ll admit it probably applied to Reagan as well.  But I’ll say no further along that line of thought.

By what authority to I tell you all of this?  Certainly my first appeal is to the authority of scripture: what I tell you is true because I read it from scripture.  Of course, around here, scripture includes more than the Christian Bible.  The words of Emerson are fit alongside those of Micah, Amos, Isaiah and Jeremiah!  I also appeal to tradition: our history shows us the truth of my words.  Throughout the ages great people like Emerson have demonstrated the veracity of what I have offered this morning.  And still I appeal to reason: does not what I say make sense?  Well, and finally, of course, I appeal to my intuition.  I appeal to my personal experience: I have lived these ideas and been ennobled by them.

But don’t take my word for it.  Life is an adventure filled with majestic sights, fertile lands, treacherous countrysides and beauty – such beauty as will leave you gasping and at a loss for words!  And we have many maps detailing excellent locations to explore, charts describing the opportunities that await.  Many of the maps are contradictory, but that is only because the landscape is different for each person who walks it.  No map is authentic, yet all are reliable.  Of course we can all stay right here if you wish and discuss together the sorts of things one might experience, we can study the maps together.  But then, life was made not for the discussion of life but for living.  What are you waiting for?  Go!

In a world without end,

May it be so

Do I Have to Love Everyone?
Rev. Douglas Taylor
2-11-07

Yes! (Turn and walk away from pulpit as if sermon is over; turn back to pulpit and continue.)

I had talked with Vicky earlier this week and she suggested we do this sermon in a point counter-point style – and to have someone else come up and say, “(sigh) no.”  But we’re not doing that, you’re stuck with “Yes, you do have to love everyone.”

Because love, love will keep us together; love is a many splendored thing; love makes the world go ‘round; all we need is love; and love hurts.  And Valentine’s Day has come upon us as the ultimate Hallmark holiday celebrating this romantic fancy we call love.  I read somewhere that an excess of 150 million cards will be exchanged this coming February 14th.  One could almost suggest that we as a culture are love-obsessed.

The origin of our modern Valentine’s Day comes from the Roman festival “Lupercalia,” a day in mid-February when each young man in town drew lottery for the name of the young woman who would become his ‘sexual companion’ for the next year.  Around 500 C.E. Pope Gelasive swapped the Lupercalia festival for the feast day of a minor Christian saint – a common practice used to win over the local pagans.  So, instead of drawing the name of a young woman, the men were supposed to draw the name of a Christian saint whom they would emulate for the coming year.  For the life of me I can’t imagine how the Christians were so successful using strategies such as this.

They must have been experts at the ‘hard-sell,’ especially considering the full legend of the saint the church chose to host the day!

St. Valentine was a priest in the third century (or maybe a composite of several priests.)  The Emperor Claudius had outlawed marriage for young men to conscript them into the military.  The priest Valentine continued to marry young couples in secret.  Discovered, he was sent to jail and sentenced to death for disobeying the Emperor.  The legend continues that he fell in love with the jailor’s daughter, and wrote her a note, signed “from Your Valentine”, prior to his beheading on February 14, 270. (From Rev. Debra Haffner)

Then, over 200 years later, this defiant priest who lost his life to help young lovers is enlisted to be the poster boy to reign in the promiscuous habits of young lovers!

And so, our modern Valentine’s Day has gravitated away from a day to emulate saints but not entirely back to the original pagan custom.  Arguably we strive on this day to emulate St. Valentine, I suppose.  It has settled into our culture as a day of rejoicing for Romantic Love.  And we teach our children, as Blanchard demonstrated in our reading, that indeed we need to give a Valentine’s Day card to everyone.  But is this suggesting that we are to affect a romantic love for everyone we know?  That would be ridiculous.  You don’t need a degree in the humanities to know what a disaster that would be!  That can’t possibly be what is suggested.

Perhaps the word ‘love’ is too broad a word to use with the assumption of clarity.  Love is a much misused and misunderstood word.  A friend has suggested we ban the word from the pulpit because it has grown meaningless and impotent through excessive exhibition.  Indeed this is a common practice among Unitarian Universalists it seems.  Great words like God, Peace, Love, and Liberal can be overused and misused and worn-out to the point of either cliché or idolatry.  One remedy is to throw the word out for a while, let it cool off, then later pick it up again, dust it off and discover again its depth of power.  So allow me to do some dusting.

What first excited me about preaching on the topic of Love again was a national Geographic article last year about the Biochemistry of love.  (National Geographic, Feb 2006: pp 32-49)  The description reads, “Scientists are discovering that the cocktail of brain chemicals that sparks romance is totally different from the blend that fosters long-term attachment.”  This is another area of study where the hard sciences of biology, chemistry and physics offer corroborating evidence for what the soft sciences of psychology, sociology, and anthropology have been saying for decades; and which theology and philosophy have been saying for centuries!

The article begins with the story of Anthropologist Helen Fisher who is “looking for love, quite literally, with the aid of an MRI machine.”  She and her colleagues look for couples who have recently fallen in love, pop one of them into the MRI machine and show them a neutral photograph and then a photo of their sweetie.  Then the scientists watch to see which parts of the brain light up!  (For the record – that would be the ventral tegmental area and the Caudate nucleus.)  They note that the ‘madly in love’ areas of the brain are linked with the reward centers and the pleasure centers – a lot of dopamine spreads from those spots.  Thus, “falling” in love is like an exciting amusement park ride.  But, be warned, the figurative rollercoaster can make you sick, same as the literal one!  Another break-through demonstrating this is found in the work of Donatella Marazziti, a professor of psychiatry from Italy.  Professor Marazziti has been studying what she calls the biochemistry of lovesickness.  Not surprisingly, she has found similarities in the serotonin neurotransmitters and the chemical profile of both love and obsessive-compulsive disorder.  I can’t stop thinking about you; night and day, you are the one; only you can make my dreams come true; I’ll sleep on your door step all night and day, just to keep you from walking away.  Yeah, having a crush on someone comes out your neurotransmitters like OCD.

So, that is interesting, but the best stuff comes later in the article.  While novelty triggers dopamine in the brain and thus feelings of attraction, it is a different chemical entirely that stimulates attachment.  “Oxytocin is the hormone that promotes a feeling of connection, bonding.”  Oxytocin is released in abundance when a mother nurses her infant, when you give or receive a massage, and when a couple makes love.  Attraction and attachment happen in different parts of the brain with different sets of hormones.  The chemicals in the brain that conspire to bring you together are not the same ones that work to keep you together.

So far, this indicates there are at least two forms of love expressed in the biochemical levels of brain function.  Typically a serious exploration of different forms of Love will consider at least three forms of love.  The three categories are typically developed to follow the three significant Greek words that are generally translated as love: Eros, Philia, and Agape.  Romantic or sexual love was called Eros; this is easily linked with the production of dopamine and serotonin.  ‘Friendship’ in Modern Greek is Philia, which in Ancient Greek denoted a love for friends, family, and community distinguished by loyalty and familiarity.  Certainly this sounds like the sort of bond-strengthening love that is associated with oxytocin production in the brain.  Well, this leaves me wondering if they could find the biochemical signature of Agape love.  Which neurotransmitters are firing in the Dali Lama’s brain or in Thich Nhat Hanh’s Brain?  Which bio-chemicals flooded the brains of Mother Theresa and Martin Luther King Jr.?

Agape is a type of love where the object to be loved does not need to possess any particular qualities such as beauty or familiarity.  It is unconditional love.  The New Thayer’s Greek to English Lexicon of the New Testament describes Agape as:  “to love, to be full of goodwill and exhibit the same; to have a preference for [and] regard for the welfare of others; of the benevolence which God in providing salvation for men, has exhibited by sending His Son to them and giving Him up to death; of the love which led Christ, in procuring human salvation to undergo sufferings and death”

When I was in seminary I had a Methodist professor of New Testament say to the class of mostly Christians that the difference between Unitarian Universalists and most Christians is that Christians focus on Jesus’ death and resurrection while UUs focus on Jesus’ life and teachings.  Someone once told me that when a Christian asks him, “What is a Unitarian Universalist?” he likes to respond saying “We practice what you preach!”

The teachings of Jesus, in particular the ethical sayings found in the Sermon on the Mount, have stirred the souls of Unitarian Universalists through the centuries.  It is in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:43-48) that Jesus says to love your enemies.  He asks “If you love only those who love you, what good is that?”  The Greek word in these verses is Agape, not Eros or Philia.  The most famous discourse on Agape love is found in Paul’s first letter to the congregation in Corinth.  “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude … It does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”  In this letter from Paul, the word he uses is Agape, the same word the gospel writer used in writing down Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.  Of course, Jesus spoke Aramaic, not Greek – so I can’t tell you that Jesus was steering at this particular interpretation of Love, only that the authors of the gospels intended us to see it as such.  Though, in fairness to them, the context of Jesus’ words about loving our enemies does fit with the Greek concept of love as defined in the word Agape.

Agape love is not a feeling, it is a choice.  Perhaps that is why we haven’t uncovered the biochemical signature of Agape love yet: it is a choice, a decision.  If it were a feeling it would have a hormone linked to it.  Instead it is a choice to be concerned for the well-being of others, to treat them with dignity and respect.  A person may be difficult, obnoxious, and completely undeserving but you can still choose to offer this form of love to her or him by extending respect and a wish for that person’s well-being.  With a modern global perspective, we might translate Agape using the Buddhist concept of loving-kindness.  While loving-kindness is not quite synonymous with what Agape is meant to convey, they both carry the tone of unconditional regard.

And that, I believe, is the aspect of love that we are called to offer to everyone.  Are there difficult people in your life?  Are there folks you find “irritating, obnoxious, mean, aggravating, anxiety-producing, hostile, difficult, stupid, disturbing, or some alarming combination of the aforementioned attributes.”  (Blanchard)  Perhaps there are people from work or school or in your extended family you would fit in this category.  Maybe there are certain politicians or celebrities for whom you’ve taken a particular distaste.  Perhaps some of them are members of this congregation with you.  Who would you balk at sending a Valentine’s card to?  Do you hate anybody?

Our faith calls us to treat all people fairly, to recognize the inherent dignity of each person, and to discern the ways in which our individual lives are interdependent with all life – including the life of that irritating, obnoxious, mean, aggravating, anxiety-producing, hostile, difficult, stupid, or disturbing person you have to deal with.  This largely stems from our Universalist heritage that says we are all accepted, we are all loved – even the irritating, obnoxious, mean, aggravating, anxiety-producing, hostile, difficult, stupid, and/or disturbing people.  Especially them, if for no other reason than that you may be one of them according to another person’s perspective.

Universalism since its inception has rejected not only the eternal punishment of hell, but also the reason for such a punishment in the first place: the concept of original sin.  Hosea Ballou, an early leader in the Universalist denomination, said that the consequences of sin are manifest in this life alone; that “hell is not a place of punishment, but a state of rebellion against God and against the unity of humans and God.” (Robinson, David The Unitarians and the Universalists, p 65) The implication here is that we choose to make of life a heaven or hell.  This is not exactly free will as the Unitarians would see it, but it does leave in the hands of humanity the capacity to respond to the love of God by loving one another or by making of this life a hell.  We hold that power, and that responsibility!

When you withhold your Valentine from some people, you are in rebellion against the unity of humans and God; you are in rebellion against the interdependent web of existence; you are in rebellion against the nature of life; you are in rebellion against your better self – whatever theological framework you need me to set this in the outcome is still the same: Yes, you do have to love everyone.  That’s part of the work.  We have the capacity and the responsibility to respond to God’s love by loving one another.  That is what life is all about: to further the human venture, to help each other and all life to become the beloved community.

So look through that list of names I know you’ve begun while I’ve been preaching.  Make a choice. Find one that is really bugging you.  Send them a Valentine’s card.  Go ahead, give it a try.  Take that step toward ushering in the beloved community.

In a world without end

May it be so.

The Practice of Presence
Rev. Douglas Taylor
1-7-07

I dropped my mom off yesterday with friends in Little Falls who will be caring for her for the next few weeks. They are likely on the road back to Boston as we speak.   My family and I have had a really wonderful time taking care of my mother during her visit with us these past few weeks.  She is more than halfway through her recovery time from the ankle surgery which is keeping her off her foot for so long.  She has needed help getting around.  She doesn’t need a lot of help, but the help she’s needed was indispensable!  I have fun with her because we talk shop together, what with us both being ministers.  We would slip into delightful conversations about the rhythms of church life, quantum physics and theology.  When she learned that I planned to preach this morning on “The Practice of Presence,” my mother offered me a meditation she had written some years back.  It begins with a story.  She writes,

Listen for a moment to the wisdom of a child.  The little girl was late coming home and explained to concerned parents that she had encountered her friend who had broken her favorite doll on the sidewalk.  “And you stopped to help her pick up the pieces?” her father asked.  “Oh, no,” she said, “I stopped and helped her cry.”

When we experience brokenness, we must cry.  But it is not easy to stop and cry.  At those times, we could use the help of a friend.  In small, sad, snatches of time we sit with one another comforting the pain into tears.  And in so doing, learn that the tears are healing waters.

Let us not turn away from the pain we know.  Let us not turn inward toward the pain with isolating fear.  Let us not stop up the tears in drowning pools.  Rather, let yourself be one who can cry with another.

It will not be to end the pain, but to bring comfort within the pain.  It will not be to repair the broken pieces, but to mourn them; to recognize their loss.

This will require of us the courage of our compassion and the conviction of our caring.  To cry with another is to stand before the hurt and recognize it for what it is and to acknowledge its place within our being.

May we each have the courage, the conviction and the capacity to cry with one another.

So Be It.

                                                            -The Rev. Dr. Elizabeth M. Strong,

And so, now I wish I had titled my sermon after one of the lines in her meditation: The Courage of Compassion, rather than the Practice of Presence.  It is compassion I wish to speak of most, and how it is an act of courage in many ways … I want to speak of that as well.  “Let us not turn away,” she writes.  “May we have the courage of compassion.”  Oh, presence is important, to be sure, that is the healing balm that people need from one anther in our world.  The practice of presence is powerful work that can change the world; we don’t see enough of it.  But perhaps that is because there is a deficiency of compassion just now.  Compassion leads us to be present.  Compassion leads us to notice what someone else is going through.  Compassion leads us to reach out.

And it seems, at times, that it does not happen enough.  It seems, at times, we need the courage of compassion because the world does not encourage such reaching out to occur.  The culture does not encourage such caring.  As if it is a radical act of resistance to care.

As I recall, a few months ago I warned you that to be a member of this congregation is to be a member of the community of resistance.  I mentioned that the grand purpose for which this and any other free church exists is to grow and to serve; to faithfully seek together to find and live out the ways of love; to be a community of resistance.  I remember saying we are not called to be respectable among the other religions; we are not called to be palatable or popular or within any proximity of prevailing opinion.  We are called upon to be radical, to be a community of resistance, to be the light of the world, the salt of the earth.  I called each of us to stand up and be counted among those who are human in community.

Can you imagine the implications such a mission could have on the caring ministry of the congregation?  Perhaps, when I brought this up a few months ago you were able to see the repercussions such a commitment to resistance could have on our justice-making work together.  Perhaps you could see the consequences this could have for the Social Responsibility Committee – but the Caring Committee?  What would it matter to the Caring Committee that we declare ourselves to be a community of resistance?  Pastoral Care and Social Justice fit together better than most might think.  Our second Principle, for example calls us to promote “justice, equity, and compassion in human relations.”  Without compassion there can be no real justice.  Compassion rests at the heart of any worthy resistance!

There was a popular bumper sticker from a few years ago claiming that the most radical thing you can do is introduce people to each other.  We are a radical people with radical ideas of how to be a community of faith where all are welcome regardless differences in beliefs.  We are a radical people in a time when people are pushed into market niches and stereotypes.  Our faith calls us to break down such barriers every chance we can.  Unitarian Universalist theology will not accept the division of humanity into the saved and the unsaved, the good people and the evil people, those worthy of compassion and those unworthy of compassion.  We’re all in this together.

Back in the early 70’s, Henri Nouwen wrote a powerful book called The Wounded Healer.  The book quickly became a standard for pastoral theology.  The premise of the title is that “in our own woundedness we can become a source of life for others.”  The bulk of the book, however, is centered upon a critique of culture.  Nouwen said that we live in a dislocated world, a fragmented society, a rootless generation, and that we are a hopeless and lonely and isolated mix of people.  Nouwen said we are driven apart by forces in the culture.  Healing comes from a radical stance of hospitality, a welcoming in; it is a standing forth with all that you are and inviting others in.  The most radical thing you can do is introduce people to each other.  Or as J. M. Barrie put it: “Those who bring sunshine to others cannot keep it from themselves.”

It is interesting to note, however, that this isolation and dislocation is not the base human condition with which we must all suffer.  Certainly Unitarian Universalist theology does not suggest this to be the case, and neither does our biology.  Human biology is wired for empathy and caring.  Research lately has demonstrated that there are areas in the brain, in fact specific neurons, which are wired for compassion and empathy just like there are parts of the brain for moving your leg or thinking about ethics or remembering your social security number.

Mirror Neurons are the groundbreaking discovery in Social Neuroscience from the past few decades.  According to Wikapedia, the reputable online encyclopedia, “A mirror neuron is a neuron which fires both when an animal performs an action and when the animal observes the same action performed by another animal. Thus, the neuron “mirrors” the behavior of another animal, as though the observer were itself performing the action.”  In one early study they saw that this cluster of neurons fired when a monkey ripped a piece of paper and the same set of neurons fired when the monkey watched another monkey rip the piece of paper.

Mirror Neurons were first seen as a breakthrough in understanding linguistic development.  In humans, they have been found in the pre-motor cortex and the inferior parietal cortex of the brain.  In what is called Broca’s area, a language center in the brain, the mirror neurons are linked with imitative learning which is critical in language development, but also in nearly all forms of developments.  They are still studying these things, so there may not be an answer to this yet, but if researchers are calling mirror neurons Empathy Neurons, I wonder: do these neurons fire the same way in my brain when I cry and when I see someone else cry?

But I also wonder, is there something we do to kill these neurons off in ourselves?  Are we deadening ourselves to these mirror neurons?  Because so often the evidence demonstrates that people just don’t care!  Newspapers are filled with examples, the movies we watch and games we play for entertainment may also be contributing to the training of our mirror neurons to settle down and die.  “Desensitizing” was the concept from psychology, I wonder if biology will corroborate the story!

A few weeks ago I was sitting at the service department waiting room of the car dealer waiting for them to complete the several hundreds of dollars of work my car needed.  I was feeling surly, I was feeling grumpy, I was feeling out of sorts partly because I didn’t have several hundred dollars to spare and was trying to calculate where the money would come from and partly because I had planned to be on the road to Boston a few hours earlier to pick up my mom to bring her here for the holidays.  Suffice to say I was preoccupied, I was distracted, Nouwen’s word for it was dislocated.  I wasn’t feeling particularly pastoral or caring of others at that moment when one of the sales people walked past, nodded at me, and began making small talk.  I wasn’t interested.

Of course, I’ve never been interested in small talk.  I’ve heard many ministers describe a dislike or discomfort with small talk, so I don’t feel unique in this.  I do, however, remember a game we did during one of the Spirituality Retreats here at the church that reminded me of this.  The game was naming and describing your favorite things.  Each thing meant something about your self-perception: Three words describing your favorite animal were supposed to be three words describing how you see yourself, three words describing your favorite body of water were supposed to show how you are with intimate relationships.  So name your favorite fruit, and (this was slightly different) describe how you would eat it.  I chose a Kiwi fruit.  I would cut it in half and scoop out the middle.  (Yum!)  This is supposed to describe how you make friends.  Hmmm, not much room for small talk there: cut ‘em in half and scoop out the middle!

Anyway, I’ve learned how to make small talk, to chat, to schmooze!  I can do it.  But it’s work; it is not something that comes natural.  So, I was sitting in the customer waiting room and the salesman starts chatting with me: the weather, long hours, end of the work day.  I smiled; I made non-committal noises like, “Yeah,” and “Hmmm.”  As he walked away it occurred to me that he had made a comment about a pinched nerve that was bothering him.

I don’t know, but it sounded when he said it like it was another part of the small talk, and perhaps, for him, it was.  “It’s so warm, do you think it will snow before Christmas.  Whew, the day’s almost over.  My sciatica is killing me.  Hey, did you see the game last night?”  But I was grumpy and distracted and did not really hear him.  Maybe if I had been paying attention, maybe if I had been present to him he would have told me more: not so I could have made it all better, just so that he could have told someone what was going on.  Just so he could have known that someone else knew of his problem and cared.  But I don’t even know if it was just another comment in his small talk or if it really was bothering him.  I wasn’t paying attention.

I’d been reading about Buddhism and the experience of a great teacher who could pay attention to a student as if the student were the only one in the world as he or she asked a question.  I have had an experience like that – when a teacher gave me what felt like her undivided attention, her whole focus.  Suddenly the question I raised, the comment I offered became really important.  Someone was paying attention.  It was an intense experience, I remember this teacher as an intense person.  I have tried to offer that same level of attention to others and I don’t think I have achieved it.  I’ve probably come close, but certainly not with any consistency.  Something for me to still strive for.

We are dislocated in the world.  Cars, Television, games, opinions, political parties, and religious denominations seem to contrive to keep us from seeing each other.  Be radical: smile back!  Go visiting strangers in a nursing home, bring some sunshine to others, sit a moment and listen to another person and discover what is on his or her mind at that moment.  So simple, and yet so rarely done.  Take up the radical work of resistance: visit, listen, smile!  Offer the practice of presence, the courage of compassion, the gift of listening.  You have that power within you to offer hospitality to others in a dislocated world; to welcome someone in and help them locate themselves amidst the odds and ends of experience.

The little girl said, “I stopped and helped her cry.”

Let us not turn away from the pain we know.

Let us have the courage of compassion.

To cry with another is to stand before the hurt and recognize it for what it is

and to acknowledge its place within our being.

May we each have the courage, the conviction and the capacity to cry with one another – to care for one another.

In a world without end

May it be so