by Rev. Dr. Marilyn Sewell

A sermon given April 18, 2004

First Unitarian Church

Portland, Oregon

OPENING WORDS

Good morning!

We gather in this place this day

To let silence heal our spirits,

To let community enclose us in warmth,

To let vision change our hearts.

Come, let us worship together.

“Spirituality: What Is It, and How Can I Get Some?” is of course a facetious title—but such an American, such a consumerist approach.  If spirituality is good for me, like a low-carb diet or green tea or aerobic exercise three times a week, I should probably work it into my schedule.  I could get a plan—even get a coach.  And there are a multitude of books to choose from.  I mean, everything from the Bible—one of your basic texts—all the way to the other end of the continuum, to various self-help books.  There seems to be something for everyone.  There is a new book out called—would you believe this—The Woman’s Guide to Enlightenment Through Shopping.  Then I ran across a spirituality web site entitled “The Science of Thinking Yourself Rich,” which suggested a three step process for solving your debt problems forever.  It was signed by “Your prosperity consciousness coach, Darel.” 

What is it, and how can I get some?  Trouble is, spiritual depth can’t be ordered, or bought, or manipulated, or conjured up.  It has to be invited, and it has to be invited from the place of our deepest longing.  Furthermore, the invitation has got to be open-ended—we don’t know what we’re inviting, we don’t know what we’ll catch on the other end of our fishing line.

So what does it mean to explore the spiritual dimension of our lives, to develop spiritually?  For many people, the word “spiritual” suggests something exotic or paranormal, something on the fringe, something a little woo-woo.  It may be intriguing, kind of like Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster or weeping statues of the Virgin Mary, but not anything to be taken too seriously.

Actually, nothing could be further from the truth.  Far from being something esoteric and other-worldly, spirituality is the very ground we come from, the “ground of our being,” as the theologian Paul Tillich called it. Spirituality is not something optional.  It is not some pious choice that women and soft men and priests and holy people make.  Spirituality is the essence of what we are as human beings.  We may ignore it, but we cannot escape it. 

Spirituality is not something aside and apart, not something we do for an hour on Sunday.  It is not about reading devotional texts, or fasting, or traveling to some holy site or sitting at the feet of a revered teacher.  We may do all these things, and they may help us along the way.  But spirituality is much more basic than that.  Spirituality has to do with your integrity, meaning integration of your values and your living.  Spirituality has to do with right relationship, with others and with the earth.  It has to do with living in thankfulness. 

Spirituality has little to do with theology—my younger son Madison thinks he pushes my buttons by saying he is an atheist.  I really don’t care.  What I want to know is, how does my son treat the young women he dates?  Does he love them and leave them—or does he treat them with respect?  He is working as a public defender for the Federal Government.  How much does he care about his clients—those accused of crimes, but who are too poor to afford a lawyer to represent them in court?  The dregs of society, some would say—do they matter?  Does he care?  That’s what’s important.  That’s what his spirituality is about.   As far as this atheist thing goes, I just tell him, “Of course, God is real, Madison.  And God loves you.  He’s just not ready to make a commitment.”

Ronald Rolheiser, author of a book called The Holy Longing, says that our spirituality is what shapes our actions.  Do we act in ways that leave us healthy or unhealthy, loving or bitter?  The “longing” referred to in the title of the book is the erotic drive, the life force, in all of us.  Everyone lives with desire, with life energy, that reaches out for fulfillment.  We have physical energy, we have intellectual energy, creative energy, emotional energy, sexual energy.  It is how we handle that energy that determines our spirituality, says Rolheiser.  Where is that passion focused, how is it used?  Our life energy can be dissipated.  It can be spread too thin.  Worst of all, it can be used destructively, to harm instead of to heal.  How do we know if we are using our energy well, if we are spiritually integrated?  We look at the fruits of our living.  We look at what we touch.  Does it grow? Does it flourish?

I had a friend, a woman friend, who began dating a man who she thought was the answer to her prayers.  “He’s so spiritual,” she told me.  “He has meditated for twelve years.”  But when they had their first big argument, he slapped her.  I think that said a whole lot more about his spirituality than did his meditating.

The opposite of being spiritual is not being a non-believer—the opposite of being spiritual is being dead to life—not wanting anything, not hoping anything, not enduring anything.  Just distracting ourselves in order to get through the day.  We all go through times like this, of course.  We all have our demons. This is suffering of the spirit.

Here is the secret, though—there is always something there to pull us back to life, back to this desire, this fire that burns within, no matter how damped down it may seem at times.  This is the Divine spark that exists in each of us, and which may be re-kindled by a touch, a kind word, a memory, and we come alive once again.  The Norwegians have a lovely legend that each soul is kissed by God before being assigned to a living body, and all during life, the individual retains this dark but very powerful memory of that kiss, and that every experience in that person’s life is subconsciously measured by that remembered kiss.  I think that it is so.  There is some goodness that pulls at us that will not let us go.

What are the particular problems that Unitarian Universalists have with accessing the life energy, the passion, I’ve been speaking of?  I alluded to one of the problems last Sunday when I said that relinquishment is a difficult word for us—relinquishment: “let go and let God,” say those who attend Alcoholics Anonymous.  “Oh, how trite, oh how simplistic!” many of us would say.  “We have to make our own way in this world, using our wits, taking action.”  Oh, yes, that’s true.  And then somewhere along the way, we run into the proverbial brick wall.  And we’re fresh out of action, done with ideas, desperate, maybe, to change our ways.  Then, then, we can say, “It’s out of my hands.  I’m given over.”  And only then can that holy desire join with its source and bring our longing to fruition.

Then there is the Unitarian Universalist desire to find the answer, to know the truth.  To read books, to go to lectures by learned people.  To reduce Mystery to scientific rubble. Certainty is a distraction from things of the spirit, which dwell in paradox and irony.  Many of us are philosophically inclined, and such a person is wont to ask, “What should I believe?” or “What is truth?”  But the question of the spiritually inclined person is rather, “How can I experience Spirit, how can I become Truth?”  Certainty closes spiritual avenues.  Not knowing invites the Mystery. 

The poet Rilke advises, “Be patient to all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.  Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.  Resolve to be always beginning—to be a beginner.” 

Let me tell you a story from the Buddhist tradition.  “There was once a woman who was arrogant and proud.  She decided she wanted to attain enlightenment, so she asked various spiritual advisors how to do that.  One said, ‘Well, if you climb to the top of this very high mountain, you’ll find a cave there.  Sitting inside that cave is a very wise old woman, and she will tell you.’  So this woman thought, ‘Good, I’ll do that.  Nothing but the best.’  Enduring great hardships, she finally found the cave, and sure enough, sitting there was this very gentle, spiritual-looking old woman in white garments, who smiled at her.  Overcome with awe and respect, she prostrated herself at the feet of this woman and said, ‘I want to attain enlightenment.  Show me how.’  The wise woman looked at her, smiling her beatific smile, and asked, ‘Are you sure you want to attain enlightenment?’  And the woman said, ‘Of course, I’m sure.’  Whereupon the smiling woman turned into a demon, stood up brandishing a big stick, and started chasing her, saying, ‘Now!  Now!  Now!’  For the rest of her life, that lady could never get away from the demon who was always saying, ‘Now!’”

So you want enlightenment?  Are you sure?  That’s always the question.  Because you see we don’t know where we will be taken by the Spirit.  We do know one thing—we will come to new life, to greater compassion, a greater ability to love.  We’ll be led to greater integration of person.  Well, all that sounds good, you say.  And you answer, along with the woman in the Buddhist story, “Of course, I want enlightenment.”  And then your demons arrive and begin chasing you.  The demon of jealousy.  Of lust.  Of hatred.  Of bitterness of heart.  Of unwillingness to forgive.  Oh, you mean, I have to face these demons?  Oh, yes, I’m afraid we do.

Notice also that the spiritual teacher kept chanting, “Now! Now! Now!”  The irony is that in order to be enlightened, the searcher did not have to go through great ordeals, climbing up to the top of a high mountain, to get to a holy woman in a cave.  She was told, “Now! Just be present in the moment.”  So simple.  Chop wood, carry water.

Let me tell you another story.  This is a true story, and it happened just a couple of days ago to someone in our congregation—it happened to Lynne Bacon, who told me I could share it with you.  This last Tuesday Lynne’s husband Warren was preparing to go to the hospital for surgery for prostate cancer when the phone rang.  Lynne could tell with her Caller ID that it was an 800#--probably a solicitor.  But for some reason, she answered anyway.  There was a pause, and then an unfamiliar woman’s voice asked, “May I speak to Warren Bacon.”  Lynne told the woman that Warren was unable to come to the phone, and then the caller asked, “Well, when would be a good time to call him?”  Lynne was beginning to get irritated.  “Well, I can’t really say,” she answered.  “He’s going into the hospital tomorrow for cancer surgery and he’s prepping for it right now and I can’t say when he might be available.”

There was silence for a few seconds.  Then the woman said, “How are you?”  Lynne, surprised at this question, turned silent herself.  And then she realized that the woman was ministering to her. 

“Thank you for asking,” said Lynne.  “I’m doing pretty well.”

 “Are you really?” she asked.  “That’s so awful.  Both my Daddy and my sister died of cancer.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lynne said.

The caller sighed.  “Yes, my sister died ten days before my birthday, about a year ago.”

“That’s so hard to lose a sister,” Lynne said, and the caller agreed that it was.

“I’m going to be praying for you tomorrow,” she said.  “I called for a totally different reason, but I’m just going to let that go.  I hope everything goes well for you tomorrow.”  Lynne thanked her, and they said their goodbyes.  After Lynne hung up she realized that she didn’t know who the caller was or who she represented or even where she was calling from.  All day Wednesday as she waited for Warren to come out of the long operation, Lynne wondered if indeed there was a woman somewhere in this big old country of ours who was praying for a man and his wife whom she didn’t even know.  She thought that, yes, there was, and it was a great comfort.  All through those long hours at the hospital, when Lynne didn’t know how serious Warren’s cancer might be, when she was just waiting and waiting, she had this strange feeling that maybe, just maybe, she had been touched by an angel.

Two women, able to be in the now with each other, each comforting the other.  Two human beings joined by the compassion that is born of loss.  The human spirit breaking through distance and commercial concerns and the constraint of roles, breaking through from one stranger to another, because hearts were open.  This is spirituality.  The invitation comes in the everyday, in the commonplace.  Who would have thought?  From a telephone solicitor.  No mountain top necessary, just a willingness to be present.

What is spirituality?  It is simply seeking God, seeking the Mystery.  All such seeking awakens us to the part of us that cannot be touched by birth or by death, that is timeless, that shows us we are part of a Great Unity from whence we came and to whence we shall return.  It takes our fear and gives us courage of living; it takes our grasping and turns it into giving.  It enables us to stoke the fire within and to let it burn keenly, focused and bright, in love and in service.  So be it.  Amen.

PRAYER

Spirit of Life, forgive us when we stifle our passion, damp down our fire.  We would know what it means to be truly alive.  Give us faith that we might live the questions our lives present, trusting in a larger knowing than we can grasp.  Give us courage to open to the opportunities for new life that you offer us over and over again.  Amen.

BENEDICTION

May you let the holy fire within burn brightly.  Go in love and go in peace.  Amen.

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Copyright 2004, Rev. Dr. Marilyn Sewell.  All rights reserved.