Profiles in Courage
Profiles in Courage
2-20-05
Douglas Taylor
I went on line this weekend to look up the seven cardinal virtues, which, of course are only talked about after one has already discussed the seven deadly sins. I bet most of you didn’t even know there were seven virtues tagging along opposite those famous deadly sins. Sins, after all are so much more fun to talk about and I think the composition of the seven deadly sins was firmly set centuries before people decided to compose a positive list of seven virtues for balance. I looked up the sins and wrote them down, but then lost the paper, but I think I remember them. There was lust, greed, anger, uh, lust, sloth, uhmm, lust and one other. Anyway, what I was really after was the list of virtues because I wanted to see how they characterized ‘courage’ in that list.
Can you imagine my surprise to find courage not on the list of the seven cardinal virtues? They’ve got patience and love and hope and all that, but no courage! Courage is not one of the seven cardinal virtues! What an oversight! I have to tell you, I agree with John F. Kennedy when he wrote that courage was “the most admirable of human virtues.” And Winston Churchill said, “Courage is rightly esteemed the first of human qualities because it is the quality which guarantees all others.”
In the mid-1950s, when John F. Kennedy was a freshman Senator, he wrote a book entitled “Profiles in Courage” in which he told the stories of eight Senatorial colleagues from the past. But rather than presenting chronological overview of their careers, he focused on their acts of integrity, he wrote about the events leading up to and resulting from critical moments when these men “stood alone against tremendous political and social pressure for what they felt was right.” JFK wrote about their courage. He begins his book by noting that Ernest Hemmingway defined courage as “grace under pressure.”
The first luminary JFK covers is Unitarian John Quincy Adams; distinguished Senator during the presidency of Jefferson, Secretary of State under Monroe, 6th president of the United States of America, and then served the last 17 years of his life in the U.S. House of Representatives. In his book, Kennedy focused on Adams’ early tumultuous senatorial career when Adams stood up for his conscience and the good of the country over the good of his political party and the state he represented. Don’t you wish we saw more of that today?
As you might assume with only a cursory remembrance of the times, the still young United States of America was experiencing growing pains and the difficulty of maintaining both its independent identity and its tenuous relationship with England. The British refused to recognize U.S. ships at sea and considered them little better than pirate ships. The British regularly seized our ships and “impressed” our seamen into the service of the British Navy. President Jefferson introduced an embargo bill that would punish the British for their corrupt and unjust dealings with American ships at sea. Now, it might seem a simple choice to support this Embargo, but the problem was that Massachusetts, the state Adams represented, stood to loose a great deal with such an embargo. Massachusetts was a wealth state in no small part because of their shipping and trade. When the embargo was eventually enacted, the Massachusetts shipbuilding, fishing, and trade industries suffered severely, which in turn affected their banks due to the lack of income, and their farms due to the lack of exports. The state Adams represented was near unanimous against such an embargo and much more in favor of appeasing the British. They saw the Embargo as Jefferson’s attempt to bankrupt the prosperous New England area. Jefferson was, after all, a Virginian. With Adam’s help however, the bill past, but his reputation was shot and Adams was cast as a radical. He was voted out of office nine months early, in fact.
At the time, Adams had said, “Private interest must not be put in opposition to public good.” Adams’ decision to stand courageously by his conscience rather than the opinion of the people who had elected into office carried swift and severe consequences for him. As it happens, he did go on to hold other political offices and was known in later years as a man of integrity.
Kennedy’s book focused on the moments of courage of eight Senators from U.S. history. Seeing as the first of his figures was a prominent Unitarian, I saw that we could easily illustrate the nature of courage and integrity through the lives of remarkable Unitarians and Universalists from our history. These stories touch on politics, religion, and naturally also on social reform. Dorothea Dix, for example, was a Unitarian from the 1800’s who is remembered for her tireless advocacy for the civil and humane treatment of the mentally ill. When she started her work, chronicling the disturbing conditions in Massachusetts, the mentally ill were customarily kept in farm basements, poor houses, correctional facilities and jails. Dorothea investigated every place where mentally ill persons were kept in Massachusetts, every place! Taking careful notes, she was able, at the end of her 18 months of research, to convince the state legislature to respond with a bill to relieve the present situation and provide for future accommodations. Her efforts ushered in sweeping reforms.
She went on to investigate other states, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island. One of the stories told of Dorothea Dix, involves her work to establish the New Jersey State Hospital. She met with phenomenal opposition. The New Jersey legislature even passed a resolution providing $100 for a one-way train ticket to “get Miss Dix across the Delaware River and out of the state.” Dorothea however, did not give up, and within three years, New Jersey appropriated funds to build a hospital. Indeed after visiting Europe where she instigated reforms in Scotland and Italy; and returning to the states to organize the Army Nurses during the Civil War, she retired to live out her last six years in a small apartment behind that New Jersey State Hospital.
At her funeral they read the passage from scripture: “I was hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger and ye took me in: naked and ye clothed me; I was sick and ye visited me: I was in prison and ye came unto me.”
Fear, of course, is the thing that stops so many of us from living the lives we wish we could live. Fear is what freezes our will to act in line with our consciences. Mark Twain wrote, “Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it.” Certainly a great many people have said very similar things. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote, “We must constantly build dykes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.” The events surrounding the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. serve as a moment of courage felt by the entire nation as much as by innumerable individuals. Many Unitarian Universalist played a part of his courageous story. The basic outline of the critical turning point in that story I offer to you in the words of Bill Sinkford, our current UUA president.
On March 7, 1965, [Martin Luther King, Jr. and] six hundred civil rights marchers left Selma, headed east on Route 80. The march ended after only six blocks at the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where state and local law enforcement officials attacked the marchers with billy clubs, hoses, and tear gas, driving the marchers back. The day became known as Bloody Sunday.
The following day, Martin Luther King, Jr. called on clergy of all faiths to join him in Selma.
On March 9, King led a symbolic march to the bridge, joined by 450 clergy. … On March 21, 1965, more that three thousand marchers left Selma for Montgomery. Of the estimated five hundred white clergy now in Selma, over two hundred were Unitarian Universalist.
Within that broad story of courage there are countless individual examples. Here, then is one. Among those who responded with courage to King’s call was our own Rev. Harry Thor. Harry did not stay to take part in the powerful march from Selma to Montgomery on the 21st, but he had answered the call and was present at the critical early and dangerous stages as energy built. Harry wrote about how he and five other clergy from the Binghamton area went down together.
My arrival in Selma was probably the most anxiety producing of the trip. The other clergy with whom I had traveled from Binghamton had denominational colleagues who were waiting their arrival at the Montgomery airport. I caught a Greyhound bus which dropped me off in Selma at about 10 pm. No taxis or busses were available to take me to the church were Dr. King was scheduled to speak. The bus station was six or seven blocks away from the church. Walking to the church alone did not seem like a good idea, but I had no other choice. Amid glares from white male citizens standing around in groups, I made it unharmed to the church.
Harry was too late to hear King speak that night and was only able to stay for three or four days, but his time in Selma included an attempt to meet with the mayor, time in the County Jail, and an inspiring sermon by Dr. King. The courage of Harry Thor and all those who went to Selma is seen not only in the risk they took with their reputations and the impact such a controversial stance might have on their communities back home; there was also the very real risk of physical harm. Witnessed by the beating death of white Unitarian Universalist minister, James Reeb, the cost of living with integrity can be very high.
Of course, not all acts of courage lead to a positive outcome. Let me tell you about Adin Ballou. Adin Ballou was a Universalist and a distant relative to the more famous Hosea Ballou, the Universalist Theologian and Author. Adin is best known for founding the Hopedale Community, an attempt at utopian living founded on the Universalist principles of peace and harmony through alternative modes of social and economic organization. He had long been frustrated by the chasm between the beliefs many Christians professed and the lives they actually lived. Shouldn’t our faith be taken seriously and put into practice? Should not the words we say about peace and equality be reflected in the way we live together? The Hopedale Community, like all other Utopian endeavors to date, eventually failed. Ballou’s community lasted nearly 15 years in its original form. It ended when two of its biggest financial backers pulled out because Hopedale was not drawing a profit. Ballou was a radical reformer and an unyielding pacifist, controversial in his beliefs and his endeavors; he worked to realize the Kingdom of heaven on earth.
It takes courage to persevere with a dream of the Beloved Community. Courage is not always measured in success. The most courageous people aren’t always those who succeed, but those who refuse to give up when they fail. Ballou’s commitment to radical pacifism and his goal of the Kingdom of heaven on earth were not quenched by the financial failure of the Hopedale Community. Ballou’s courage and was echoed and amplified through the generations.
And let me briefly tell you of two others shining examples. Francis David became the court preacher in the mid-1500s to the only ever Unitarian king in history, King John Sigismund of Transylvania, (which is now known as Hungary.) David was educated as a Catholic priest, but converted to Lutheranism, then Calvinism, and finally to a form of anti-Trinitarian belief later known as Unitarianism. His rigorous commitment to truth and reason compelled him through this succession. Through a series of open religious debates, David so ably defended the Unitarian position that it persuaded the then-Catholic King Sigismund to become Unitarian. When Sigismund died, and a new king (not in sympathy with Unitarian beliefs) took the throne, the old court preacher was tolerated only so long as he advocated no innovations in doctrine or thought or practice. Francis David’s conscience, of course, could not be contained and he eventually died in the dungeon of Deva for the crime of heretical innovation.
Let me wrap up with one more story: Universalist Clara Barton: known during the civil war as the “Angel of the Battlefield,” and in years after as the founder and first president of the American Red Cross. In her later years she wrote, “To compliment me, writers dwell on my courage. In the earlier years of my life I remember nothing but fear.” Clara Barton was plagued throughout her life by sadness, melancholy and a lack of confidence. Her courage, I think, lies not in her acts of bravery during the war or her fortitude in guiding the Red Cross afterward. For Barton, I suspect her courage is most evident in the mere fact that she persisted in life each day. Perhaps the needs of battlefields and the sick soldiers gave her the courage to face her days. Her courage was the common person’s courage of simply facing each day as it came, almost the reverse of how it was expressed in Adams whose courage was to act in the interest of the public good. But courage nonetheless!
Courage is not found on the list of cardinal virtues according to whatever Christian body is responsible for that list. Courage, however, is the most basic of all virtues in that it frees us to make use of all the other noble virtues available to us. The lives of these men and women from our religious history offer to us a heritage deep and rich with faith, power, and courage. Indeed their stories echo down through the generations and fire our imaginations with conviction and nerve. My friends, we are an audacious people and you stand arm in arm with Adams, Dix, Thor, Ballou, David, Barton and countless other prophets, visionaries, rebels, and martyrs. “Stand we now upon the threshold, facing futures yet unknown. … Look inside your soul’s the kindling of the hearth fire pilgrims knew. … Guard we ever their sacred embers carried in our minds and hearts.” Courage, my friends, for our list of courageous people shall always have room for your name too.
In a world without end, may it be so.
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Bibliography
Bumbaugh, David. A Brief History of Unitarian Universalism (~1988)
Gursky, Carol Stewart, ed. Profiles of Historical Unitarian Universalists (1983)
Kennedy, John F. Profiles in Courage (1955)
Leonard, Richard D. Call to Selma (2002)
McEvoy, Donald W. Credo: Unitarians and Universalists of Yesteryear (2001)
Robinson, David. The Unitarians and the Universalists (1985)
Scott, Clinton Lee. These Live Tomorrow: Twenty UU Biographies (1964)
Thor, Harry A. Selma personal papers (1999)
And We Both Shall Row
And We Both Shall Row
2-6-05
Douglas Taylor
A very dear friend of mine is working through the end stages of his relationship with the man he has been with for over twenty years. Because it is a same-sex relationship, there is no legal marriage to dissolve, no messy divorce procedures to endure. The emotional and spiritual suffering is still there, the anguish of the loss is still there, of course. My heart aches for the path he faces. My wife and I are on the eve of our fifteenth anniversary, to be celebrated March third. Our marriage has lasted through significant difficulty. We have sailed through our share of troubled water and now find ourselves with a depth of years beneath us, clear skies ahead and a fresh wind running along side. It could have been otherwise.
As I approach this milestone in our relationship and see the glorious beauty of many other relationships around me, I also the relationships that did not last, my parents, my brother’s marriages, my friend’s, and so many others around us. I see those who struggle to make their relationship work and others who make it seem so effortless. My wife and I have had to work hard, endure much, and with laughter and forgiveness see each other through these past fifteen years. What are the qualities needed to make it work? What are the hallmarks of a good marriage?
When I speak of marriage this morning, I intend it to mean marriage as it will one day be defined. According to the newspaper a State Supreme Court Justice ruled just this past Friday that “the New York State Constitution guarantees basic freedoms to lesbian and gay people – and that those rights are violated when same-sex couples are not allowed to marry.” We’ll have to see how this goes in the Court of Appeals in Albany, but think it is only a matter of time before enough people affirm what it says on the big blue banner outside our front door, that Civil Marriage is a Civil Right! So, when I speak of marriage this morning, I speak of heterosexual marriage as well as what is now called holy union or partnership. I speak of the relationship regardless of the sexual orientation of the partners in that relationship. And so I ask, what are the hallmarks of a good marriage?
As many of you will have noticed, I have appealed to the wisdom of the congregation to help with this sermon, to help me articulate the qualities needed in a good relationship of this sort. I asked you to send me your thoughts and reflections on what has made your marriage or partnership work. I received many wonderful responses considering the lateness of the call, (the newsletter with my request for your participation only got into your hands a few days ago.)
I asked my own children what they thought were the important qualities needed for a good marriage or partnership and Brin answered immediately, “Humor.” Keenan thought a moment and said “Mutual respect, and trust.” They were quite for another moment and Keenan said “Oh, and love.” “Oh, well, yeah.” As if it was an afterthought. As I laughed, Keenan rushed in to clarify, “I mean as opposed to money or looks.” To which Brin said, “Yeah, Love is more important, but we’re doing ok with money!” Someone once said, “It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)
My wife liked what they offered and added communication to the top of her list. Without open communication little else is possible. She also told me marriage is like a dance where you have to know the steps but also how to improvise. Lindberg had used the same analogy to dancers in the meditation this morning saying we are, “partners in the same pattern.”
Toby Anderson sent this:
Here’s my two cents: Each should give the other room to change and grow, then accept and support the change and growth. In the space provided, affection will flourish.
This advice follows that which was offered by Rainer Maria Rilke who wrote, “A good marriage is that in which each appoints the other guardian of his solitude.” Now, the guardian of Toby’s solitude also offered a few words of wisdom. Libby Anderson wrote:
After almost 44 years I think that I’d say: Love, Laughter, and good conversations are really important. The good conversations come from each finding the other to be interesting. When any crisis occurs it is important to hold on to each other. It gives each partner more strength and deepens the love.
I found it fascinating that one suggested the need to give each one space while the other suggested the need to hold on to each other. As Rilke said, we must be guardians of each other’s solitude, but we must likewise let the other in. We must be equally independent but also mutually dependant. It is a strange mix to talk about but a natural thing to experience. I think many people get caught, however, by going overboard with the dependant part. At least if you listen to the music on the radio. So often the love songs talk about you fill me or complete me or lift me up or how I can’t live without you. I do remember a lyric from the sixties or seventies, (I can’t remember the artist now,) but it said, “Hold on loosely, but don’t let go. If you cling too tightly you’ll loose control.” It is a balance that is needed. Balance seems to have been the watch word of my adult life.
Sara Clavez sent me a wonderful quote that seems to sum this idea up: “Love, like water, can be held only in the open hand.” It is held, but it is also open.
I picked up an e-mail from Kit Hartman yesterday evening that also carries these ideas. She wrote,
Hi Doug, I’m pleased you want to hear from me and have been mulling over in my mind what to say. A cartoon came to mind. George had it pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen. I think it was Broom Hilda, portrayed in just two panels. One says to the other, “Marriage is when two live together as one,” and the other replies in the second panel, “Yes, but which one?”
I think of two things in regard to marriage. One must place the other above all others, with the exception of a terribly ill child. One must stand sentinel at the gate of the other’s privacy. This second “must” is a steal from a Rilke poem I read long ago. I suppose “must” is a bit stuffy but so be it.
love, Kit
Raney Colvill wrote to me saying, “A solid close relationship with another is one of the most difficult things to achieve.” Raney’s comments covered a lot of ground and I want to share a few of the things she sent me.
I believe that marriage is not 50-50. Each should try to do his/her share but more if needed, esp. if partner is tired, stressed, ill, or hurting in some way. Somewhere I read that a good marriage is when each partner thinks he is fortunate that he married his partner and that his partner does more to make the marriage successful than he does.
Some one mentioned to me (between services during the coffee hour) that she recalled a minister saying that marriage is not 50-50 but 75-75! This certainly fits with what Raney is saying. And she picks up a different point when she writes:
I think it is perhaps more difficult to stay married today because one’s expectations are often higher than when people married years ago. Also, if one has never experienced death or loss of a loved one, failure or at least somewhat difficult times in some way, it may be extremely difficult for them to cope. What I am trying to say as somewhere in one’s life one must develop at least minimal coping skills as far as stress goes before marriage will be successful unless they are a quick study.
Raney’s thoughts about needing coping skills to deal with stress reminded me of a saying. “Marriages are made in heaven. But, again, so are thunder, lightning, tornados and hail.” There will be difficulty and trouble. There will be struggles, and it is important to have adequate coping skills and a solid foundation for your relationship to weather the storms.
Ron Kissick spoke with me on the phone yesterday and the first question he asked me was, “Do you want me to avoid a lot of technical phrases and jargon?” Ron works with couples for a career. He told me that he had learned that the most basic behavior that makes for a quality relationship is a consistent pattern of appreciation. He told me it works in his relationship and in the council he gives to others. To develop a consistent pattern of appreciation with your partner is to develop habits and rituals that call attention to the relationship you share and to the love you build together. It calls for a positive outlook and sharing your wishes, hopes, and dreams with each other. Ron told me this was the core basic foundation of a relationship. If you could hold the positive outlook by sharing your hopes and dreams with each other, and maintain the consistent pattern of appreciation, then, he said, “It makes the struggles doable; not easy, just doable.”
Jeff Donahue reflected on his relationship with his wife, Kay Glasgow and wrote to me:
I don’t think I have anything profound to tell you about successful relationships … the only thing I can think of that’s helped Kay & me is to take the time to have fun and to explore. Concerts, dinners with friends, playing with our pets, and traveling to new places have all contributed to our successful relationship. We have fun together as well as apart — each of us has interests we pursue independently, and I think that keeps us energized, intrigued, and vital.
One couple from our congregation who has been together for almost nine years, reflecting on what it takes to make a relationship work, responded by saying, “Well it’s probably cliché, but the key is communication and mutual respect.” If I were to go back through what everyone sent to me or mentioned to me I think she would be right, it probably is cliché, but there it is: communication and mutual respect. She picked up on another theme as well when she said that she and her partner “are not joined at the hip. We are not like some of those couples who can’t do anything apart. We each have our own interests and passions.” She talked about how they each have their own interests, but they have found ways to enjoy each other’s interests; not because they are interested in the same things, but because they are interested in each other. Another facet of the success of their relationship is in how they deal with problems. “We don’t hide from our disagreements or go off in a huff and then pretend like it never happened. We always discuss it, especially if it is a recurring theme.”
In all of the reading I had done in leading up to this sermon, there was only one piece I wanted to lift up alongside all the wonderful comments all of you had to offer. The piece is one of the essays in the book my colleague Scott Alexander edited about five years ago entitled Everyday Spiritual Practice. The essay I’m thinking of is entitled “Partnership as Spiritual Practice” by Brian Kiely, a UU minister from Alberta Canada. Kiely writes, “I have to work hard to find the elusive equilibrium between me, thee, and us. In fact, for me, partnership has become a spiritual discipline, practiced habitually, intentionally, and with the awareness that the reward is not in the mystical moments of perfect union, but in the journey through the years together.”
This, I believe, is the crux of so much of what has been offered by so many of you. A spiritual practice is something you work at. It caught up in the concept of intentionality. Shoveling the driveway or chasing after a toddler may be good for your physical health but it is not akin to jogging or maintaining an exercise routine. What is missing in the former is the intentionality of a practice or discipline. A marriage can have moments where the behaviors and qualities we have mentioned appear, and it may be enough to hold the relationship together. You may give gifts on anniversaries and birthdays or have tender moments while making up after a fight. But without the regular attention given to the relationship on a day to day level, there will be little reserve built up to get you through the turmoil, mistakes, lapses of judgment, and changes that pervade every relationship.
A common wedding and holy union element these days is a unity candle. This is a ritual where there are two taper candles lit ahead of time. These two candles represent the individuals joining their lives together. A third candle, usually a large pillar candle, is in the center. As the couple uses the two smaller candles to lit the big center candle I tell them it represents the new life into which they now enter. It represents a new way of being for them, a way of being together. I always tell them before hand to not extinguish the two taper candles because they represent their individuality which does not cease to exist with the creation of their marriage bond. And because there was one time I didn’t tell them this and it took all my control to not stop the wedding and relight the two small candles the bride and groom had blown out after lighting the center candle.
Kiely said he has to “work hard to find the elusive equilibrium between me, thee, and us.” The spiritual disciplines he uses enhance his experience of what the third candle represents. This third piece is the relationship itself and it requires as much attention as the two participants involved. And, of course, any relationship carries this element. A relationship between siblings, parent and child, best friends, or lovers will have the elements of me and thee and that which is between us, that which is us. Marriages and same-sex partnerships have, however, a distinction from all other relationships in the depth of intimacy. And perhaps you have heard that the deepest most personal levels of intimacy are also connected to the highest levels of ultimacy. And as such, marriage can be yet another path to God. After fifteen years, I feel I am getting close.
If we can look at our marriages like spiritual practices requiring patience and ritual and attention, we may find the return is like that which any other spiritual practice offers. We will see and understand more about ourselves as individuals and about the world around us, we will grow and deepen and be strengthen. Like yoga or prayer or journaling, with practice and attention on a daily level, your significant relationships can become a vessel for intimacy and growth. With practice, your marriage can be as a boat that will help you weather the storms and carry you into the most intimate heart of life and blessing.
In a world without end,
May it be so.
Stepping Out of the Boat
Prayer
Gracious and loving God,
From whom all things come and to whom all things return
We gather this hour as a people of faith
bound together by our common search for meaning and depth in life.
We pause in our journeys to breath in the nurturing power of our felt community.
Each of us gathered holds our own assortment of joys and sorrows, burdens and blessings
Each of us gathered carries great gifts to offer and deep hungers and pain.
We give thanks this hour for this day, cold and harsh though it may be,
we give thanks for it because it is life, vibrant life.
We give thanks for the multitude of blessings that fill our days
in the form of friends and work and health and love.
And we give thanks for unknown blessings yet to come.
In gratitude we also lift up to thee our needs,
Where there is struggle and hardship, may there be courage.
Where there is adversity, may there be strength of spirit
Where there is heartache and despair, may there be hope and companionship for the journey.
This we ask in the name of all that is holy,
May it be so.
Reading “Vocation” by Frederick Buechner
It comes from the Latin Vocare, to call, and means the work a man is called to by God. It is the work that he is called to in this world, the thing he is summoned to spend his life doing. We can speak of a man’s choosing his vocation, but perhaps it is at least as accurate to speak of a vocation’s choosing the man, of a call’s being given and a man’s hearing it, or not hearing it.
And maybe that is the place to start: the business of listening and hearing. Listen to your life. There are all different kinds of voices calling you to all different kinds of work, and the problem is to find out which is the voice of God rather than of Society, say, or the Superego, or Self-interest.
By and large a good rule for finding out is this. The kind of work God usually calls you to is the kind of work (a) that you need most to do and (b) that the world most needs to have done. If you really get a kick out of your work, you’ve presumably met requirement (a), but if your work is writing deodorant commercials, the chances are you’ve missed requirement (b). On the other hand, if your work is being a doctor in a leper colony, you and probably met requirement (b), but if most of the time you’re bored and depressed by it, the chances are you have not only bypassed (a) but probably aren’t helping your patients much either.
Neither the hair shirt nor the soft berth will do. The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.
Stepping Out of the Boat
January 23, 2005
Rev. Douglas Taylor
The point of my sermon today is to convince you all to get out of the boat. But before I can explain that better, I must first tell you two stories.
A monk sat on the banks of the Ganges River with one of his students. As they watched the water flow by, a large scorpion making its way along the steep banks fell into the water and began to struggle and drown. Without hesitation, the monk reached in and pulled the scorpion from the water. As he placed it on the bank it stung his hand.
Several minutes later this same scorpion fell again into the river and commenced to drown. Again the monk reached in and again was stung as he set the scorpion on the bank.
A third time the scorpion fell and a third time it was retrieved by the monk with the same results.
The student could no longer restrain himself. “Master,” he asked, “Why is it that you keep saving that beastly scorpion from drowning? Can’t you see that it is just going to sting you?”
“Yes, I know it is going to sting me,” laughed the monk. “It is the dharma of a scorpion to sting. But it is my dharma to save.” (Elisa Pearlmain, ed, Doorways to the Soul. p 1)
So I’ve been reading this first story for several years now. At first I thought: Yes, yes! Life is like that, my calling is like that. This story is my story because it reminds me that the painful times in this journey have been useful and have deepened and furthered my calling. Later, at other times when I would read this, I tried to change the ending of the story. Why didn’t the monk fling the scorpion several feet away from himself and the water? Or maybe the scorpion was trying to get to the water for some important, though obscure, reason; and this monk was preventing it from doing what it needed to do? Or even, why not grab a stick and let the scorpion climb onto the stick, or use the stick to push the scorpion toward shore and safety? I was looking for a way to take the sting out of the story. But the sting is a part of the story, the sting is a part of life.
This story is about living the life you are called to live despite the external pressures to live otherwise. This story is about having a calling, a vocation. Parker Palmer, a Quaker educator and author wrote in his book, Let Your Life Speak, “from our first days in school, we are taught to listen to everything and everyone but ourselves, to take all our clues about living from the people and powers around us. We listen for guidance everywhere except from within.” (p 5)
This story about the monk and the scorpion asks, “What is your high vision for yourself as a positive force in the world?” Or, “How is your life a reflection of God’s love?” But it also holds the warning that life is not without its sting! If you choose to live and work and love in a way that is consistent with your inner voice, you will undoubtedly suffer for it in some manner.
Childbirth is the archetypal image of the pain felt in the process of becoming. Listen to the deep yearning within you, calling you to be in the world in a way you had not thought possible. Maya Angelou, in speaking about the powerful forces at play in the process of becoming, said, “Nobody knows what it costs the bulb, a tulip bulb or an onion bulb, to split open so that green tendril of life can slip out.” That sting is a part of life.
But I am leading us deeper into that sometimes hard edge of vocation, which is a valuable point to explore, but is not where I really want to spend my time. I really want to look at the breadth of this topic and how it applies to you. Vocations and ministries are not reserved for ministers. Everyone can tap into that. As Frederick Buechner wrote, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
UU colleague, Roy Phillips recognized some of this and began leading workshops about ten or twenty years ago encouraging members of his church to discover their callings, to discover, as he put it, their ministries. In his book, Transforming Liberal Congregations for the New Millennium, he writes about this:
Liberal congregations need – and I believe are on the brink of – a paradigm shift from membership to ministry. We will see more and more of it as the new millennium approaches. People now seen as members of an organization that delivers them spiritual care will come to view themselves as part of a community of lay ministers expressing their unique core gifts and values in personal and shared ministry – in their homes and congregations, among their friends and strangers, and in their workplaces. (Roy Phillips, Transforming Liberal Congregations for the New Millennium. p 18.)
This concept of Share Ministry that so many people are talking about nowadays is rooted in an understanding of what we are all about as a congregation. I’ve heard that the Quakers have been waiting for a grand change to take place in the culture of churches. They await the remarkable transformation that would accompany the abolition of the laity. Gee, if we get rid of all the laity, all we would have left is the ministry! This is the very shift that Phillips was promoting about ten years ago with his little book, a shift from membership to ministry.
I told you I would need to tell you two stories before I could explain the title of my sermon, “Stepping Out of the Boat.” The second story is from the Bible and it is about Jesus walking on the water. The story of Jesus walking on the water has a fascinating twist that most people don’t talk about. The scene happens in three of the Gospels: Mark, Matthew, and John. In all three, Jesus and the disciples had just finished feeding five thousand people with a few loaves and fishes, and Jesus sends everyone away and tells the disciples to get in the boat and go ahead of him across the Sea of Galilee. He then goes off to be alone for a bit and pray.
Later that night, while the disciples are rowing hard through a storm, the waves are splashing into the boat and the wind is whipping around them, they look up and there is their master, their rabbi, walking toward them on the water. So, what would you do if you were in that boat? They were terrified, according to the report. They thought they were seeing a ghost! They cried out in fear! And Jesus says, “Don’t worry, it’s just me.” And then we find the fascinating twist: Two of the gospel narratives skip this next part and just say, “Then they all landed safely on the other side.” But the Gospel of Matthew adds this part: Jesus is walking toward the boat and says, “Fear not, it is I.” And Peter answers him saying, “If it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” And Jesus says, “Come!” So Peter gets out of the boat and walks over toward Jesus. Now we’ve got two guys out there walking on the water!
I must admit I was pretty surprised to find this in there. Peter was walking on the water too! I didn’t grow up Christian with these stories being told to me over and over again. I think I actually read the Jefferson Bible before I read the regular full version; and Jefferson’s Bible does not have any of the miracles or healing stories, no virgin birth or resurrection. What is missed when you cut out all the miracles and healings is the opportunity to look past these non-rational supernatural elements in the story and to read yourself into the text at the metaphorical level, to read even the healings and miracles as parables for better living.
So I read this story not as two men actually walking around on water, but as a metaphor about faith and power and the capacity of people like you and me to do things beyond what we thought ourselves capable of. I read this as you and me walking around on the water, living deeply powerful lives. I read this as all of us stepping out of the boat and walking around together sharing the task of living life at a level of depth and power. I am calling to you to come, step out of the boat and join me. You have to be careful when your minister starts comparing himself to Jesus, but it only looks like I’m putting myself in Jesus’ sandals because I’m the one saying “come.” At another time, someone or something called me out of the boat, I’m just calling now for you to get out of the boat too. Later on, perhaps it will be you calling another to come and join us out on the water.
What does it mean to step out of the boat? It means, you are not stuck in the position of a consumer who has shown up this morning looking to get your needs met. Instead, you can see yourself in the position of a co-creator with everyone else in the room, with Vicky at the piano or Gail at the organ and me up here in the pulpit. We’ve all shown up here to create this event together, to co-create this worship moment. Get out of the boat! And throughout your week and indeed throughout your life you are a co-creator with even God, however you conceive God to be. Get out of the boat!
We have as our first principle in Unitarian Universalism the statement that we affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every individual. We couple that a few principles down with a commitment to the democratic process and it turns out that every one of you here has a calling to which you can respond. Get out of the boat! Ministers are trained to be soloists first. What’s needed is a choir, what’s needed is a whole host of singers to let the harmonies and rhythms role across the waters.
One evangelical minister lamented how his congregation seemed stuck, and he used the analogy of a passenger train’s brake system to describe his church. It seemed to him that every one had access to the brake cord and could pull it at any time forcing the entire locomotive to screech to a halt. All of these wonderful powerful people were situated on committees and boards and positions of power, but all they could do was pull the brake cord. Like the train, there was only one accelerator, located in the front of the train. Access to the accelerator was limited to the ordained clergy. “So in most cases a multitude of boards and committees serve mainly to prevent new vision from taking the church beyond the status quo.” (Carl George, Preparing Your Church for the Future. p 37) OK, so I’m passing out accelerators toady. This is about shared ministry, this is about power. Get out of the boat!
“We are seeing a paradigm shift from membership to ministry,” Phillips wrote. Each of us shares in the ministry. You may think you are just singing in the choir, but you are unique and precious and powerful and your voice is a part of your ministry in this community. You may think you are just organizing the ushers or the coffee servers, you may think you are just teaching a Sunday school class, but you are unique and precious and powerful and you are providing others with opportunities to grow and to serve and to unleash their own ministries. You may think you are just contributing your share of the work that needs to be done, but you are unique and you are precious and you are powerful and what you offer may well be your ministry, may well be your calling to serve. Come, get out of the boat!
A colleague told of a member of her congregation who lived on the curve of a street that in winter became icy and treacherous, and the site of many car accidents. The woman came to see helping people at this corner as a ministry. She tried to get the county to re-grade the road or to put in better lighting, or at least put up sings. She also had a shelf in her kitchen where she kept tea, cocoa and cookies alongside a list of phone numbers for towing companies. She just knew that a couple of times each winter, she would need to go out and see how bad the accident was, occasionally call the ambulance, but likely just invite people into her house, sit them down with a mug of tea and a few cookies, and help them begin to deal with the car accident.
I can’t tell you how many times someone has said to me, “What I am doing here is something I just need to do.” Time and again, people find in this community a path to serve, a path to meet not only the needs of the community, but also the deeply personal needs that arise from within. Time and again, people shake off the notion that they owe this community something for all they have received, and glimpse the shining truth that here is a place where they can offer their ministry.
Come, step out of the boat, here is a place where you can answer your call, a path for your becoming, a community where you can offer your ministry.
In a world without end,
may it be so.
Books and Bling
Books and Bling
January 16, 2005
Rev. Douglas Taylor
I was with my mother in Boston for most of this week, helping her around the house after her back surgery last month. I drove back to Binghamton Friday night after dinner. Before I left I called my wife to let her know I was about to head out and was warned that there was significant ice affecting the driving conditions around southern New York and that I was to be cautious while traveling through the evening and night. The roads around Boston were clear of this sort of trouble. Traffic and construction were the hazards I had to watch out for there. Actually, I made it home without incident, but there was one point on the trip when I was worried. I was climbing through western Massachusetts toward the Berkshires when I realized the road stretching before me in the passing lane was dark compared to the light grey lane of the right lane where the truck was. A thought flashed through my mind, “I’m driving on ice while passing a truck going up hill at seventy miles per hour in the late evening hours.” The fear that gripped me and froze my heart almost caused me lose control of my senses and my vehicle. But I could tell, after a quick check, that the wet road was not frozen and that was in full control of the situation, and I continued cautiously on my way.
There are situations in life where it feels like we have suddenly found ourselves metaphorically on an icy incline that, while not physically life-threatening, is fear-inducing all the same, and we freeze up and even lose our senses. For many people who care deeply about equality and justice, the issue of Racism can be a slippery situation causing us to freeze up.
The article I used for our reading this morning had a long thread of responses on the website that were shown immediately following the article. I considered printing out the article along with all the responses, the article was about two and a half pages long while the responses would have been well over a hundred pages. This topic sparked a lot of conversation.
One of the responses began with this confession, “I do have a level of discomfort, maybe even fear, in discussing racially relevant topics with members of the black community. I feel that I need to be on guard for personal attacks of racism due to my membership in the white community and how that membership is perceived in regards to racial and social dynamics in this country by members of the black community.”
I don’t think this discomfort, even fear, is uncommon. I remember the story of two friends on there way to a meeting titled “A conversation on race and religion.” The one friend (who was white) commented to his black friend, “I must admit, I’m a little scared that if I try to participate I will say something really stupid and embarrassing.” His friend smiled and said, “Don’t worry, you will.”
Racism has grown complex over the years since Dr. Martin Luther King brought about the revolution to end the legalized segregation of black and white people. Each time we stamp out a large chunk of this problem, multiple smaller insidious versions of the same root take hold and begin to grow. Racism has become difficult to define because as the actions borne of racist attitudes become unacceptable and even illegal, those attitudes remain to be dealt with. It was easy to just look at actions: do you fight for segregation and status quo? Or do you fight for civil rights and racial equality? Now, it can be a little tricky trying to sort out just what exactly constitutes racism. Yet racism is still having its devastating impact on minorities.
Most Americans still live, work, worship, and are educated in a racially segregated America. It was Billy Graham who said back in the 60’s “The most segregated hour in America is still eleven o’clock, Sunday morning.” We each live like Dillard’s pet Amoeba, in a universe “two feet by five” and are confused or frustrated by (or simply dismissive of) those things that do not fit what we know to be true. The limit of our vision may translate into so many areas of life. At different times it will prove to be different things for you. For me, Racism has been at times one of those things that does not fit what I know to be true.
I grew up in the suburbs of Rochester New York, a city with significant racial problems that I didn’t see until I moved back there for a summer as a young adult. I grew up in the Seventies and Eighties, having missed the turmoil of the Sixties. I was concerned about nuclear war and sexism and Reagan-omics, but racism didn’t impact me and I suppose I thought it was not a big deal; that it had been dealt with. My “two feet by five” universe had not introduced that issue to me yet.
I could have been one of those people who would have said, “I’m color-blind. Race doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you’re Native American or Asian American or African American or Cuban American. Hey, drop the extra stuff, we’re all Americans!” I didn’t see that this translates to “they” can join “us” who are just plain regular Americans and “they” can leave their extra identities at the door. Well, thankfully my “two feet by five” universe grew a little and I saw that not only is that not going to work because people should not be required to leave any portion of their identity at the door; it also could not work because I have an ethnic identity not to be dismissed.
I am about half Irish, a good bit English, a little Polish, German, and some other ancestries thrown in. Ethnically, I am a Northern European mutt. But that still has an impact on who I am. And yet, I and many, many people who are nothing like me, are clumped together under the racial category of ‘white.’
In their book A many Colored Kingdom: Multicultural Dynamics for Spiritual Formation, Elizabeth Conde-Frazier, Steve Kang, and Gary Parrett team up to explore how ethnicity and multiculturalism affect the dynamics of spiritual formation. In the beginning of their book they define their terms and offer this for Race:
Using various biological criteria to locate the concept of race in the disciplines of science – for example, focusing on blood groups, skin color, cranial and skeletal features, and DNA – has not yielded a coherent definition of race. The resulting typologies based on the use of different classificatory criteria can only be construed as arbitrary demarcations that lack biological significance and integrity.
Generally speaking, most people can tell if someone is of European, African, or Asian decent, based on his or her skin color or hair or maybe by the eyes or nose or something like that. Yet unless you can determine biological criteria that holds for every individual you have to concede that the distinctions are arbitrary.
I remember encountering an example of this in connection to DNA. A geneticist and scholar from Ghana basically showed that if you randomly picked out two people from the entire population of our planet and took a sample of tissue from each, examined it at the level of the chromosomes, you would have an 85.2% chance of finding the same characteristics. If you did the same thing only limited your sample of human being to the population of England, you would increase that chance to 85.7%. “In other words,” this geneticist wrote, “aside from being able to predict the grosser physical attributes of color, which defines the racial categories, a person’s race has virtually no predictive value at any biological level.” (Kwame Appiah, In My Father’s House)
Yet contrary to this geneticist’s statement, the grosser physical attribute of color even fails to bring a clear definition with absurd qualities including the “one drop of blood” concept where the child of a biracial couple is considered to be in the racial category of whichever parent is darker, rather than a member of both groups. Even the choices of color names like black, red, white, and yellow (??) when we’re all really shades of brown. I, for example, am sort of a pinkish-sandy color. This isn’t to say Race does not exist or is not real. This is simply to say that Race is not a biologically ground fact. It is a social fact, a social construct whose elements include aspects of ethnicity and ancestry, but only because it is also about history, culture, and self-identity.
In a book published in 2000 entitled Divided by Faith by Michael Emerson and Christian Smith, the authors investigate attitudes of race and ethnicity among evangelical Christians. One insight that comes up that I find so compelling (and I see over and over again) is the distinction between personal responsibility and systemic or structural issues is regard to racism.
[Emerson and Smith] point out that blacks and whites view the sources of racial tensions very differently, with whites tending to look at the problems as individualistic and blacks tending to see structural issues as the primary source. In the interviews they conducted, the authors found that whites were particularly irritated when suggestions were made that anything other than individual responsibility was to blame for the plight of poor blacks. In fact, whites seemed more irritated by the thought that inequities between whites and blacks might be due to structural issues than they were by the inequities themselves! (Conde-Frazier, Kang, & Parrett A Many Colored Kingdom; p9)
This is where Cosby made his misstep. He started talking about personal responsibility instead of the structures and institutions that continue to oppress poor black people. Interesting, isn’t it; that each side of the black/white division only wants to be talking about the part they can’t control! At least according to the books and the analysis, black people tend to say, “All the trouble is because of the institutional racism supported by white people in positions of power.” Meanwhile white people are always talking about how “every individual has the responsibility to deal with the consequences of his or her own choices.” Suddenly a black celebrity holds a mirror up to his own community and says, “We are not doing a good job with our parenting skills and our attitude toward quality education. We need to take more personal responsibility.”
What would we be saying to ourselves if we could stand to hold such a mirror up to ourselves? What part of the system of racism in our nation do you and I have some control over? Well, of course the answer does not include any specific actions. The mirror would show us our communal attitudes. First off, it would be helpful for all Americans to recognize the distinct facets of their culture. Instead of saying, “I’m white I’m just a basic American, I don’t have a special culture,” you might say, “My people are emotionally subdued, academics who yearn, deeply yearn, for a depth of connection and understanding that is so painfully elusive.” Or you might say, “My people are hard-working people of the earth who became people of the factory and have only recently in the past generation of two become people of the cubical.” Or perhaps you could say, “My people were a coldly practical people who burn easily and so do not go to the beach in the summers and I have left them all behind and have blazed a new trail.” Many of you might say, “My people are no longer my people for I have left them behind.” But tell me who your children’s people will be? Detached generic people with no sense of their culture? This is a major part of our problem. You may already be those children.
I suspect the next thing we might see is materialism and an unhealthy pursuit appear financially better off than we really are. That whole ‘keeping up with the Joneses,” we made that up. And we applaud ourselves for looking like a duck swimming up stream, calm and smooth on top, paddling like crazy underneath. Living lives of quiet desperation. That’s us. And we wonder why young black kids are investing their money in bling! I had no clue what that word meant a couple of months ago. “Bling” or “Bling Bling” is showy materialism like jewelry and hot clothes, fancy cars and even attractive people on your arm could be considered “bling” if they are there for you to be showing off. Typically people like hip hop musicians and Donald Trump are people with “Bling.” I play a part in that. It’s not a direct cause and effect relationship; of course not. It is a systemic and institutional relationship. The sensationalized media and market industry is a reflection of the culture that this nation has chosen. There are things you can do (and many of you probably are doing) in response to it.
The last thing I think I see in that mirror when I look in our mirror is what I could almost characterize as the love affair our nation has with divisiveness in general. We can talk about racial division, but we won’t get too far in that conversation with out talking about economic divisions or religious divisions or political divisions! We seem to breed divisiveness, it’s like there’s something in the water. We are always ragingly divided about one thing or another in this country. Of course it has nothing to do with the water, there’s something in our history, several things actually. We started out as a schism breaking away from the old country. We perpetuated that division time and again and now it feels like to be American is to be against something. And if there isn’t a group out there to be against, we’ll be against a group of ourselves right here at home. I don’t know, that’s probably a bigger problem than just American culture and institutional racism; but it sure seems like we’re particularly good at it.
The hope in all this is that the world continues to change and our little ‘two feet by five’ universes keep cracking and opening out. I read that our nation is becoming Multi-ethnic and multicultural, and that this generation coming of age today is trans-racial, self-identifying with multiple cultures and races.
It is important to move with an eye toward the hope. This week while I was at my mom’s I was preparing for this sermon and I had several books with me. I should have been spending more time with the books from 2000 and 2004 but I had brought along two compilations of King’s speeches and letters. One from 1963 entitled “Why We Can’t Wait” which includes his Letter from Birmingham Jail. The second is a series of his landmark sermons and speeches including the famous I Have a Dream speech in Washington DC, and the very last speech he ever delivered where he talks about having been to the mountain top and having seen the promised land, thankfully someone thought to bring along a tape recorder that night on April 3 1968. And because it’s transcribed it has congregational reaction printed in parentheses so it almost felt like I was there. And I could here the cadence of his voice as he would call on the lines of old Negro spirituals, words from the Hebrew prophets, and symbols of American democracy and weave it all together … and then tell everyone that we need to be dissatisfied, we need to have divine dissatisfaction with the injustices that surround us. He would speak of the obstacles and the difficulties of staying true to the call for justice and the call of conscious but he would say we must have an audacious faith in the future. And what’s more we must work to realize that audacious faith into reality today. We must work to cast aside our divisions and our competitive materialism. We must work until the freedoms that are written into our American law are made real in the lives of even the least of these. We must work to call up the beautiful differences that mark us as beloved children of the same family transcending culture, transcending ethnicity, transcending nations, transcending race until the social construct of race slips softly into the footnotes of history.
“Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men and women willing to be co-workers with God.”
In a world without end
May it be so.
Fools-In-Training
Fools-In-Training
January 2, 2005
Rev. Douglas Taylor
The master was in an expansive mood, so his disciples sought to learn from him the stages he had passed through in his quest for the divine.
“God first led me by the hand,” he said, “into the Land of Action, and there I dwelt for several years. Then He returned and led me to the Land of Sorrows; there I lived until my heart was purged of every inordinate attachment. That is when I found myself in the Land of Love, whose burning flames consumed whatever was left in me of self. This brought me to the Land of Silence, where the mysteries of life and death were bared before my wondering eyes.”
“Was that the final stage of your quest?” they asked.
“No,” the Master answered. “One day God said, ‘Today I shall take you to the innermost sanctuary of the Temple, to the heart of God himself.’ And I was led to the Land of Laughter.” (TF p 126)
While I was in seminary reading biographies of great religious figures in history, I was most impressed by the mystics. One common element across the different faiths was the remarkable element of ecstatic love the mystics felt. The Land of Laughter is a fitting description of the experience described by countless mystics. So often the experience of God for these people changes them is a way that puts them out of sync with the rest of the world. They become as Fools for God, seeing a reality radically different from what most of us see and understand. 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. I believe we should be fools, or at least fools-in-training.
A pious old man prayed five times a day while his business partner never set foot in church. And now, on his eightieth birthday, he prayed thus:
“Oh lord our God! Since I was a youth, not a day have I allowed to pass without coming to church in the morning and saying my prayers at the five specified times. Not a single move, not one decision, important or trifling, did I make without first invoking your Name. And now, in my old age, I have doubled my exercises of piety and pray to you ceaselessly, night and day. Yet here I am, poor as a church mouse. But look at my business partner. He drinks and gambles and, even at his advanced age, consorts with women of questionable character, yet he’s rolling in wealth. Lord, I do not ask that he be punished, for that would be unchristian. But please tell me: Why, why, why have you let him prosper and why do you treat me thus?”
“Because,” said God in reply, “you are such a monumental bore!” (TF p27)
Hey, life is too important to be taken so seriously. You’ve heard the quip that angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. Deep laughter can be prayer just as surely as can tears or a moan. I had a professor tell me she could tell something of the spiritual maturity of a person based on the sorts of things at which that person would laugh. I felt some of the best praise I every received was from my chaplaincy supervisor when she wrote in an evaluation that I had an acutely developed sense of life’s absurdity. I don’t think I quite qualify as a fool, but I could make a case for being able to carry the title of fool-in-training.
There is a story of a western scholar who traveled to the east to learn from a spiritual master. When he arrived the master invited him to sit and share a cup of tea. The master began to pour the tea into the cup for the scholar and when the tea reached the top, the master continued to pour the tea. As the tea spilled out over the top of the cup, the scholar cried, “Stop, stop! The cup is full, it will hold no more.”
The master continued to smile at the westerner and said, “And so it is with you. You ask me to tell you of the wisdom I know, yet what can I offer you when you are already full?”
It is not easy to be a fool-in-training. The full-fledged fools we would learn from offer such compelling and yet confounding lessons!
A Guru promised a scholar a revelation of greater consequence than anything contained in the scriptures. When the scholar asked for it, the Guru said, “Go out into the rain and raise your head and arms heavenward. That will bring you the first revelation.”
The next day the scholar came to report: “I followed your advice and water flowed down my neck. And I felt like a perfect fool.”
“Well,” said the Guru, “for the first day that’s quite a revelation, isn’t it?” (TF p70)
We do not, however, need to pack up and go to China or Tibet to find a holy fool from whom to learn. The character of the fool pervades so many cultures and religions.
From Hollywood’s Forest Gump to Loki, the Old Norse god of Chaos, there are many examples. Puck, Pan and Winnie the Pooh all offer slightly different illustrations of the fool. Native traditions from North America and Africa present trickster characters in the form of familiar animals such as Coyote, Spider, Tortoise, and of course Rabbit. These animals echo through our secular culture as evidenced for example by specific rabbit characters such as Brier Rabbit and Bugs Bunny.
Harlequins, jesters, clowns and fools abound in Medieval and Elizabethan plays and stories. Truffeldino in the Servant of Two Masters, the Fool in King Lear and Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream are but a few memorable examples.
The greatest archetypal fool is from the story of the Fisherking. In one version of the Arthurian grail legend, the fool wanders in on the king who is dying. The king, who had sought the healing powers of the Holy Grail all his life, had grown old and weary with a sickness that wasted not only his body and spirit but also the land he ruled. When the king sees the fool he asks for a drink. The fool finds a cup, fills it with water and offers it to the dying king, who is instantly healed. The king realizes the cup he is now holding is the very artifact he had spent his life seeking. In disbelief bordering on jealous anger he asks the fool where he had found the precious Grail. The fool shrugs and says, “I’m not sure, all I know is that you were thirsty.”
Herein lays the elegant power of the fool. He, or she, is not really trying to do a great thing. The fool simply sees life differently. The fool lives in the world where the first are last and the last are first. Paradox, irony, and truth are her tools; love and understanding are his goals.
A philosopher, having made an appointment to dispute with Nasruddin, called at the appointed hour and found him away from home. Nasruddin had forgotten their plan and was in the teahouse playing table games and telling stories with his friends. After waiting for some time the philosopher grew angry. Picking up a piece of chalk, he wrote “Stupid Oaf” on Nasruddin’s door and left in a huff.
As soon as he got home and saw this, Nasruddin rushed to the philosopher’s house. “I had forgotten our appointment,” he said, “I apologize for not having been home. Of course, I remembered the appointment as soon as I saw that you had left your name on my door.” (DS p10)
Nasruddin the Hodja is said to have been a real person born in Turkey in the year 1208. Hodja means teacher, and Nasruddin was a teacher/wise man and sometimes a judge. He lived at the time of the powerful conqueror Tamerlane and is said to have won him over through cleverness and humor.
He is said to have died around 1284. Even in death he makes one laugh and pause to wonder. His grave is marked by a single iron gate. The gate is locked – but there are no walls on either side.
Since his death the people of Turkey and many other countries in the Middle East have been telling stories about him. Some may be true; others surely are made up, inspired by his character. Stories are still being made in his name today. Custom has it that when you tell one tale about Nasruddin you must tell another: more to the point, one cannot help but tell another. (DS p10-11)
One night a neighbor strolling by Nasruddin’s house found him outside under the street lamp brushing through the dust. “Have you lost something, my friend?” he asked. Nasruddin explained that he had lost his key and asked the neighbor to help him find it.
After some minutes of searching and turning up nothing, the neighbor asked him, “Are you sure you lost the key here?”
“No, I did not lose it here. I lost it inside the house,” Nasruddin answered.
“If you lost the key in your house, Nasruddin, why are you looking for it out here?”
“Well,” Nasruddin replied, “there’s more light out here, of course.” (DS p101)
Nassrudin rode the train to work every day. One day, as usual, the train conductor came and asked him for his ticket. He began fumbling around in his coat pockets, and his pant pockets, and then in other people’s pockets. He looked in his briefcase, in his bags, and then in other people’s bags.
Finally the train conductor said, “Nasruddin, I’m sure you have a ticket. Why don’t you look for it in your breast pocket? That is where most mean keep it.”
“Oh no,” said Nasruddin. “I can’t look there. Why, if it wasn’t there, I would have no hope.” (DS p 51)
These two stories about lost keys and lost tickets are delightful because they are both entertaining and enlightening. They carry the quality of a good parable in that there is a twinge of recognition for the hearer, but it comes at you sideways. The truth sneaks in on the wings of laughter.
An old rabbi was lying ill in bed and his disciples were holding a whispered conversation at his bedside. They were extolling his unparalleled virtues.
“Not since the time of Solomon has there been one as wise as he,” one of them said. “And his faith! It equals that of our father Abraham!” said another. “Surely his patience equals that of Job,” said a third. “Only in Moses can we find someone who conversed as intimately with God,” said a fourth.
The rabbi seemed restless. When the disciples had gone, his wife said to him, “Did you hear them sing your praises?”
“I did,” said the rabbi
“Then why are you so fretful?” asked his wife.
“My modesty,” complained the rabbi. “No one mentioned my modesty!” (TF p113)
I think the reason I particularly like this story of the old rabbi is how easily I can identify with him. I have a foolish bumper sicker on my car that reads, “Don’t believe everything you think.” The fool challenges pretentiousness, pokes fun at pomposity, negates preconceived notions. Since I was a teenager I have loved a playful little quip that says, “I may not be much, but I’m all I think about.” It was Ben Franklin who said, “Alas if I ever became truly humble, I would be proud of it.”
A ninety-two-year-old priest was venerated by everyone in town. When he appeared on the streets, people would bow low – such was the man’s reputation his holiness. He was also a member of the Rotary Club. Every time the club met, he would be there, always on time and always seated at his favorite spot in a corner of the room. One day the priest disappeared. It was as if he vanished into thin air because, search as they might, the townsfolk could find no trace of him. The following month, however, when the Rotary Club met, there he was as usual, sitting in his corner.
“But, Father,” everyone cried, “where have you been?”
“In prison,” said Father calmly.
“In prison? For heaven’s sake, you couldn’t hurt a fly! What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” said the priest, “but briefly, this is what happened: I bought myself a train ticket to the city and was waiting on the platform for the return train to arrive when this stunningly beautiful girl appears on the arm of a policeman. She looks me over, turns to the cop and says, ‘he did it.’ And to tell you the truth, I was so flattered I pleaded guilty.” (TF p113-14)
What would you have done if you were in the priest’s position? Granted you’re not a priest, but I bet most of you are not fools either. I certainly am not foolish enough to follow that fine priest’s example. But, then, I don’t think we each need to follow a strict example to really learn to laugh at life’s absurdities and live. I think we need to cultivate that sense of reality that seems so upside down to most people. I think we need to risk our respectability more. As a faith tradition we are too concerned with our respectability, yet being respectable leads us away from being radical and into becoming irrelevant!
The sannyasi had reached the outskirts of the village and settled down under a tree for the night when a villager came running up to him and said, “The stone! The stone! Give me the precious stone!”
“What stone?” asked the sannyasi.
“Last night the Lord Shiva appeared to me in a dream,” said the villager, “and told me that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk I should find a sannyasi who would give me a precious stone that would make me rich forever.”
The sannyasi rummaged in his bag and pulled out a stone. “He probably meant this one,” he said, as he handed the stone over to the villager. “I found it on the forest path some days ago. You can certainly have it.”
The man gazed at the stone in wonder. It was a diamond; probably the largest diamond in the world, for it was as large as a person’s head. He took the diamond and walked away. All night he tossed about in bed, unable to sleep. Next day at the crack of dawn he woke the sannyasi and said, “Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this diamond away so easily.” (SB p 140)
Indeed, the wealth that makes such foolishness possible is hidden in a radical upside-down understanding of reality where the first shall be last and the last shall be first; where earthly power is nothing compared with the power that is given to the peaceful, the impoverished, the persecuted. But beware, for even peace, poverty, and persecution can be polluted into uselessness if you push them. Beware. Beware! “Sell your cleverness and buy amazement!” (Rumi)
A car accident occurred in a small town. A crowd surrounded the scene so that a newspaper reported couldn’t manage to get close enough to see the victim. He hit upon an idea. “I’m the father of the victim!” he cried. “Please let me through.” The crowd let him pass so he was able to get right up to the scene of the accident and discover, to his embarrassment, that the victim was a donkey. (TF p189-190)
In a world without end, may it be so!
Bibliography:
(TF) Taking Flight by Anthony De Mello
(SB) The Song of the Bird by Anthony De Mello
(DS) Doorways to the Soul by Elisa Pearlmain
