Author: Doug Slagle

(c) Rev. Doug Slagle, The Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

Every July 14th the French celebrate Bastille Day to commemorate their defeat of religious and aristocratic authority.  The French Revolution is one of the most significant events in human history.   It was the culmination of the Age of Enlightenment and its ideals of freedom and values of humanism. 

As I’ve related in my previous two messages this month, the Enlightenment was humankind’s escape from immaturity.  Previously, most western Europeans were unable – or forbidden – to think for themselves.  The Enlightenment, and particularly the French Revolution, dramatically changed that by encouraging reason over superstition and fear.

      The French are rightfully proud of that revolution.  Despite its radical violence, it nevertheless initiated most modern freedoms we now take for granted – but which the French celebrate as proof of their early move toward spiritual and political maturity.  Indeed, some of the rights begun by the French Revolution are ones often debated today – ones like equality for women, decriminalization of same-sex relationships, and full equality for non-whites.

The French Revolution and the Enlightenment have cast a wide influence around the world.  Unitarianism, as one example, emerged during the Enlightenment in Europe, but became a major form of spirituality in 1819 just after the French Revolution.  Early Unitarians, like leaders of the American and French Revolutions, determined that human values must supersede religious ones – that worship at the altar of a god must be secondary to worship at the altar of compassion, respect and freedom for humankind.  Ultimately, we as Unitarian Universalists uniquely celebrate the human spirit to live and worship freely.

Today, I conclude my September series on pathways to enlightenment by focusing on a final path – that of celebrating.  It’s an appropriate topic for this service because I believe celebration of enlightenment is often not taken to heart.  The very act of becoming enlightened IS a big deal!  It means one gains greater awareness, sensitivity, and intuition to goodness.  It means one begins to understand serving others.  It means one is a seeker, a skeptic, a dreamer and an explorer.  It means one commits toward becoming more kind, humble, gentle and giving – free from fear or obligation.  Becoming enlightened is comparable, for me, to what most religions believe is the process for going to Heaven.  For us, we aspire to possess enlightened hearts and minds that are at peace with ourselves, other people and the universe.

Buddhists understand that concept.  They believe that reaching a state of Nirvana, a state of perfect peace, is a cause for celebration.  Bodhi Day, or Buddha Day, takes place every year on the first full moon in May or June.  It is the supposed anniversary of when Siddhartha Gautama, otherwise known as the Buddha, became enlightened.  It’s when he finally let go of his ego – the part of him that desired worldly pleasures – to instead be filled with contentment and kindness.  Indeed, the word Buddha means: ‘one who is enlightened’.  On Bodhi Day, Buddhists across the world celebrate with feasts and festivals in order to show devotion to that pursuit.

We celebrate Water Communion for similar reasons.  We use water, as the essential element for life, to be a symbol of where we have been and where we intend to go.  It’s a celebration not to arrogantly boast of what we do, and what we know, but to instead honor and renew our commitment to the path of becoming enlightened.

That’s why I chose this month’s message theme, why I paraphrased that theme and placed it on our new sign, and why there is a photo of the sign on the cover of your programs.  It’s my belief of what defines us as spiritually progressive people, members of this beloved community, and activist citizens of the world.   We are servants and we are seekers – who joyfully dedicate ourselves to those tasks.

We celebrate, first and foremost, our freedom from fear.  The opposite of love is not hate, but instead fear.  If we think about it, if we were not afraid of anything, we would be open to total love – of ourselves, of others, and of life itself.  Indeed, the Buddha taught that freeing ourselves from fear is a crucial part of letting go of the ego.  It’s fear that one will personally suffer – from any multitude of causes – that prevents full  enlightenment.  People fear the suffering that they’ll feel if they don’t have enough – so they become selfish and greedy.  People fear the suffering that comes from dying – or from going to hell – so they believe in supernatural gods who promise eternal life.  People fear the humiliation of being inadequate so they become arrogant and self focused.  People fear those who are different so they shun, discriminate and demean.  Fear of Jews and their success motivated the Holocaust.  Fear of Islam motivates hatreds and banishment of desperate Muslim refugees.  Fear of losing jobs and wealth motivates angry laws against immigrants.  Fear of people of color, their abilities, their different complexion, their cultures – all motivate racism.  Fear of same sex romantic love motivates bullying, gay bashing and outright murder.

Freedom from such fears, however, is a hallmark of Unitarian-Universalism and is a core reason many of us are here.  We come here to be free of being told to be fearful – of death, of hell, and of man-made religions that teach about vengeful gods and pre-scientific scriptures that are racist, homophobic and misogynistic.

Since fear causes hate and discord, we also come here to be free of those sentiments.  Freedom from spiritual fear opens our hearts to love all our neighbors.  We love them not as some perverse way to change people, to convert them to our way of belief, but as a way to honor their dignity and equal rights.   We may not yet be perfect in our love, but we commit to learning ways to improve.  That is a reason to celebrate today and all Sundays!

We also celebrate our freedom from obligation.  Free from the fear of death and punishing gods, we are not obliged to honor, worship or follow them.  We have the freedom to believe – or not believe – as reason guides us .  We serve, seek, and come together not because we must, not because if we don’t we will be punished, but because we deeply want to.  We deeply want to grow as better people.  We deeply want to love and serve our neighbor.  Nothing motivates us beyond an intrinsic and innate desire to be good and do good.

I often hear apologies from folks who miss a Sunday or two.  They ruefully admit to a morning of sleeping late, enjoying a leisurely breakfast with family, or taking a walk outdoors.  In many ways, they engage in a spiritual activity of their own design.  And that is a good thing!  I never want someone to attend because they feel they must, or that they have disrespected the congregation, or some spiritual ideal if they don’t.  I want people to be here because they want to be here.  They want to hear thought provoking ideas, they want to enjoy the friendship and company of others, they want to share, smile, and serve.  Freedom from obligation is something to celebrate today and every Sunday you might choose to sleep late at home – instead of coming here to fall asleep listening to boring me!

Finally, I claim we are here to enjoy freedom from immaturity, as Immanuel Kant said.  We are not children whose minds are not yet capable to think on their own.  We do not depend on being told what to think, believe and know – from me or any Scripture.

I said in my message last week in Louisville that we only know ultimate truth when we admit and accept we don’t know it.  Being mature people, we understand the limits of human knowledge and thus our need to continue to explore, seek, discover, dream and dare.  It’s the same maturity of mind that compelled Galileo to look to the heavens with telescopes he invented to understand what makes the universe operate – and thereby challenge immature ideas that some God created everything to revolve around us as his playthings.

This is the same mature thinking that compelled Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. to practice an alternate way to advance human rights – to use civil disobedience, love and non-violence as catalysts for change.  A mature attitude is what compels any of us to empathize with the plight of others – the poor, oppressed and marginalized – and work to change that.  Through empathy and not judgment, we can understand how the humiliation of racism has affected ways African-Americans think and act – and their anger at ongoing discrimination.  It might help us empathize with the plea that Black lives matter.

Each of these freedoms – freedom from fear, obligation and immaturity, are triumphant reasons to celebrate today and any day.  I must remind myself, as I encourage each of you to do the same, not take to for granted the amazing wonder of this congregation and what it represents.  In here, through both our Sunday services and our volunteering, we celebrate the inherent human capacity to serve and to seek.    These are natural capabilities ingrained in our DNA, but they are also rights that were hard won by our forebears – the thinkers, visionaries and activists on the front lines against forces of fear, superstition, and obligation.  We do our freedoms an injustice if we do not remember them, celebrate them and commit ourselves all the more to their practice.

Today and upcoming Sundays may seem like a time of sacrifice – a time when our Board seemingly comes hat in hand and begs for our generosity.  I admit to my own concerns about this time and the fear that we ask too much, that members will be turned off by ongoing expressions of need for time, talent and treasure.

But just as I elaborated earlier, we are, in truth, free from such fears.  We are free from such obligations.  Our Board does not and will not beg.  Neither do I.  Our fundraisers, our pledge campaign, today’s Building Improvement Gift effort are not requests to be endured – like some painful root canal.  I, along with all of you, understand the value of hard earned money and the precious little spare time each of us has.  What I also hope we understand is that this endeavor we call the Gathering at Northern Hills, and its ideals, mean nothing unless we honestly believe that they are a force for good and something we want to support with our time, talent and treasure. 

We’re challenged today to match what an anonymous donor has given to the congregation to improve serious building needs.  These are not improvements so that we can bask in luxury.  We hope to address building needs that matter to the long term structural integrity of our home – this place we use to make our values and ideals happen.  The donor asked me to promise to never reveal his or her name.  The motivation of this person is not to enlarge their ego, but rather to celebrate exactly what I’ve said this community stands for.  This person anonymously gives only to celebrate and practice our collective desire to be enlightened.

We are under no obligation to place our checks for building improvements in the box right over there.  We are under no obligation to pledge, volunteer, attend, or support this place with thoughts and prayers.  We have no fear we will be eternally punished if we don’t.  We have not been told giving and serving are moral rules we must obey because an ancient Scripture says so.  If we do feel obligation or fear, I strongly encourage us NOT to give. 

No matter whether we do give today, and pledge later this fall – or we don’t – it is our freedom, our choice and our innate desire to do as we think is good, right and reasonable.  I hope I never forget that.  I hope you don’t either.  We are here, every single one of us, because through serving, giving and seeking, we hope to become more enlightened.  And, that, as I say, is one very, very big reason to celebrate!

I wish you all much peace and joy!   

      

(c) Rev. Doug Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

 

The following message was delivered by Rev. Doug at First Unitarian Church of Louisville, Kentucky as part of a Pulpit exchange with its Minister, the Rev. Dawn Cooley.

On January 7th, 1610, the famous Renaissance astronomer and scientist Galileo Galilei pointed a telescope he had made toward the planet Jupiter.  During his observations, he saw what appeared to be three stars arrayed very close to the planet.  The next night he again saw what he called three stars, along with a new one, but they each had changed position relative to each other and to Jupiter.  Over the next week, he continued to see these stars remain in the vicinity of Jupiter while moving with it across the sky.  Very quickly he deduced that he was the first to discover small moons revolving around Jupiter.  This was long sought evidence, he concluded, of Copernicus’ revolutionary theory that the earth, along with other planets, likewise revolve around the sun.

Galileo later published his findings in several books.   His writings caught the eye of the Catholic Church which immediately condemned them as false.  Not only did a sun centered planetary system contradict many verses in the Bible, it was also in conflict with Christian theology which believes God created humans as the center of his attention.  It’s why he demands human obedience and loyalty.  The earth, as our home, must be the center of the universe.  For people to live on a relatively minor planet revolving around the sun, this renders them insignificant.  A sun centered cosmos questions not only the truth of the Bible, but the very existence of God.

As a result, the Church’s Council of Inquisition investigated Galileo, put him on trial and, in 1633, condemned him as a heretic.  It said about Galileo and his observations, “The idea that the Sun is stationary is foolish and absurd in philosophy; and formally heretical since it explicitly contradicts in many places the sense of Holy Scripture.”  At an advanced age, Galileo was sentenced to torture and imprisonment.  While the sentence was later reduced to house arrest, he was confined there for the remainder of his life.  His books were burned and banned.

The Church’s response to Galileo is a reminder of what motivated the horrific events that happened on September 11th fifteen years ago today.  Too many people close their minds and believe only ideas told to them by ancient texts, Ministers or other external sources.  Finding comfort in dogmatic certitude, as opposed to thinking on their own, many people are stuck in patterns of belief that close doors to learning, growth and discovery.

Each month, I present three messages based on a single thematic topic.  Instead of today interrupting my September message series on Pathways to Enlightenment, I decided to continue it for you with a message on one pathway to enlightenment through Seeking. 

Last Sunday, the first of my September messages was on what I believe is another path to enlightenment – through Serving.  I suggested that if we accept the fact that humans are not the reason the universe exists, contrary to what most religions claim, we will move beyond a mostly selfish desire to live forever in Heaven and avoid its alternative.  We will be more humble and thus discover our true purpose.  That is: Humans have an innate desire to do good, love, and act kindly to others.  We are servants, plain and simple.

Today, I hope to suggest that seeking is also a way to become enlightened.  To seek is to be ever curious about life, the universe and why things exist.  Seeking is a desire for inspiration, it’s a feeling of awe at the beauty of nature, it’s an embrace of change, it’s a yearning to explore one’s inward self, it’s a hunger to continually grow, it’s a willingness to dream and dare.  Seekers ponder the unexplainable, they question and doubt, and they are listeners more than talkers.

The opposite of seeking is to have a closed mind about anything new.  It is to assert absolute knowledge on any subject.  It’s what the Catholic Church said in response to Galileo’s observations – that only they, and the Bible, are correct.  It echoes religious fundamentalism and the hateful motivations of the September 11th hijackers who believed their interpretations of Truth are right – and all others are to be attacked.

The 17th and 18th century Age of Enlightenment came too late for Galileo.  It began to flower soon after his death.  Enlightenment ideals emphasized reason over superstition, and science over religion.  Philosophers of the time like David Hume, Immanuel Kant, and John Locke advanced ideals of  Humanism.  Concerned with the well-being of people, it was and is a revolutionary belief system.  Indeed, Humanist and Enlightenment philosophy helped inspire the American Revolution and its assertion of inalienable human rights.

Contrary to Christian doctrine that says people are the reason God created the universe, Humanism is instead a humble belief.  We are not the pinnacle of creation.  The cosmos does not revolve around us, and neither is it designed to serve only our needs.  We are not privileged creatures who deserve to live forever in Heaven, or anywhere else.  Logic informs us we will die like all things.  Since that is so, Humanism leads us to see that it is we, not a god or goddess, who are to do the work of building a better world.  It’s we who must serve and advocate for those who hurt and suffer. 

This humble awareness also informs us how to think and act.  Since science tells us that we, like all things, are made of the same chemicals that comprise trees or distant planets, we can no longer believe we are special.  We also can no longer claim that any faith based Scripture is ultimate truth.  Indeed, a human centered belief system, versus a religion based one, helps us realize how inaccurate knowledge from supposedly divine revelation is. 

The universe and its forces of energy and gravity are far more complex and mysterious then most religions assert.  The cosmos was not made in six days, but instead was formed over billions of years – and it continues to form.  Man was not made from the dust of the ground.  Woman was not fashioned from the side of man to be his helper.  Other creatures and life forms, including humans, did not spontaneously come into existence.  Assertions found in many Scriptures are pre-scientific, faith based ideas that lack any reasonable evidence.

Immanuel Kant, one of the foremost Enlightenment philosophers, said that the Age of Enlightenment was an end to humanity’s immaturity that relied on Scriptures and external sources to tell them how and what to think.  Enlightenment, Kant said, is about learning to think for oneself – to use one’s mind to examine, analyze and understand things on one’s own.  “Dare to know!” is his most famous statement.  We must have the courage to use our minds to arrive at a truth that is logical and honest.

And that is the essence of seeking.  It is to be a skeptic toward any proposition one considers – even the idea that one should be a skeptic!  Seeking is deeply rooted in humility and the awareness that we know so little.  I believe that to be a seeker one must be radically open minded and tolerant towards all others, and their beliefs.  That does not mean one necessarily agrees with other beliefs – but rather that one endeavors to understand, listen and learn from them.  Only then can one make reasonable – but gentle – conclusions.

Seeking new awareness is also about having empathy for others.  Seekers refuse to judge, and instead try to figuratively walk in another’s shoes.  Such is a mindset, for instance, that empathizes with the racism African-Americans have historically faced.  It seeks to understand ways such humiliation has affected how black men and women feel, act and think.  It seeks to understand how conditions such as poverty, homelessness or addiction are the result of past and current racism.  A seeker is therefore someone who wants to learn, experience and grow.

By not judging, by seeking to instead empathize and learn, true seekers ask lots of questions.  Indeed, I believe that asking the right questions is a key to enlightenment.  Dogmatic answers close minds to further inquiry.  Questions open minds to potential new realities.  What purpose do humans have?  Is the universe infinite and, if so, what does that mean?  Are there other, parallel universes?  What is the value of doubt and skepticism?  What is love and how can we define it?  What are the legacies we can leave behind that allow us to figuratively live forever?

Seekers and questioners also find greater enlightenment by detaching themselves from strong opinion or belief.  By letting go of preconceived ideas, for example, about who is a friend or enemy, or who is good or bad, we can seek and perhaps discover the truth of what it means to be truly good.  Enemies are not necessarily those who oppose us, or people we may believe are bad.   And friends are not necessarily ones who agree with us, or people we think are good .

Many of you may have heard that Mother Teresa was made a Saint this past week.  Despite all of the stories about her compassion for the poorest of the poor, there are also criticisms that she lacked medical knowledge, relied on prayer as treatment, and thus ignored effective healing methods.  Many people in her care, it is claimed, needlessly suffered.  Was she truly a Saint and good person, or perhaps she was someone far more complicated?

What I find fascinating about her are recent disclosures that she lived many years in doubt about God and religion.  In letters she wrote to confidantes in the 1950’s, Mother Teresa seemed more like a skeptic than she did as a nun with strong beliefs.  In 1959 she wrote, “In my soul I feel just that terrible pain of loss of God not wanting me — of God not being God — of God not existing.”  She repeated this sentiment numerous times.  Clearly, she experienced a crisis of belief.

I have no idea what caused that, but I imagine it is similar to what most honest and aware people experience.  Many of us have our own dark night of the soul when we question all that gives us purpose and hope.  As painful as the episodes might be, for me such a time was immensely enlightening. 

I experienced my dark night of the soul twelve years ago when I came out as a gay man.  I finally determined to live my truth.  But with that came a time of despair.  Friends who once said they loved me, instead abandoned me.  My belief in a loving God suddenly became irrelevant and even false.  Organized spirituality, in any form, was something I turned my back on – since my previous church had proven to be judgmental and hypocritical.  It condemned me for revealing one small part of myself – even though I remained the same minister and person they once said they loved.

After over a year in that dark state of mind, I began to read about spirituality that is instead open, free and affirming.  I became a seeker.  I learned about alternative ideas and ways to interpret religion and the Bible.  I eventually rejected theism and found, instead, belief in what I call a natural, little ‘g’ god – a god in nature and in all people – a universal force of compassion, gentleness and kindness.

That period of time led me to conclude that even what I find spiritually true now, must still be questioned.  I have much to still learn and ways to still grow.  I still fail to do what I know is right.  I often don’t practice the  peace, love and humility I aspire to have.  I still hold unconscious prejudice in my heart.  All of this means I must continue to seek, question and learn.  It means I must still examine and meditate on everything.

Ultimately, I believe we only know truth when we realize we don’t know it – but that it must continually be pursued.  That is a hallmark of Unitarianism and it expresses itself in every part of our lives.  Seekers are first and foremost humble.  They know what they don’t know.  They know they are not special nor do they have access to ultimate truth.  Seeking will lead us to greater peace, gentleness, empathy, forgiveness, listening, curiosity, and, as I claim, greater enlightenment.

       And with that, as I say every Sunday to my beloved community In Cincinnati, I wish this beloved community here in Louisville, much peace and joy.    

(c) Rev. Doug Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

 

Many of you might be familiar with the famous eighteenth century Scottish philosopher David Hume.  He is often called the father of modern Humanism.

There is a story which he told about an event that happened to him at a young age.  One evening, while walking home, he found a bridge damaged and closed.  To get to the other side, he was forced to take a path through a swamp.  At some point he tripped and fell into the swamp.  He struggled to get out but only sank further.  Hume shouted for help and many villagers came out to investigate.  But they recognized him as the well-known Atheist and refused to help.  “The devil has ye by the feet,” they jeered.  “Let ‘im get ye out!”

One young milkmaid, however, remained behind.  “My dear,” Hume said to her, “doesn’t your Christian faith implore you to help others, even your enemies?” 

“Aye,” she replied, but ye shallna get out o’ that, till ye become a Christian yoursell, and repeat the Lord’s Prayer.”

David Hume promptly said the Lord’s Prayer and the milkmaid did as she implied she would – she swung a log into the swamp upon which Hume crawled to safety.  He is said to have repeated this story often – commenting that the young woman was the best Christian theologian he’d ever met!

Hume was one of the leading thinkers of his time.  Along with men like Voltaire, Locke, Rousseau, and Adam Smith, his philosophy defined what is called the Age of Enlightenment.  That period emphasized reason over superstition, and science over religion.  Immanuel Kant, another philosopher of the time, said the Enlightenment was humankind’s escape from mental immaturity – a mindset that cannot think on its own but instead depends on guidance from other sources – like Ministers or Scriptures.

My message series this month looks at what I assert are pathways to enlightenment.  What are three primary ways by which we find greater  knowledge, understanding and awareness about the meaning of life, ourselves and the universe?  My topic today, the path of serving, is a leading way to achieve enlightenment.

In broad terms, serving is not just about doing tasks for others.  Instead, it an outcome from Humanist ideals which place the well-being of people, not God or religion, at the center of concern and study.

That leads me back to my story about David Hume trapped in a swamp.  The young woman was likely conflicted.  Helping an avowed Atheist was contrary to what she’d been taught – to avoid nasty heathens.  But she was also motivated by a desire to assist someone who was suffering.  She solved her dilemma by asking that Hume make a statement of faith so she could in good conscience serve him.  As a practical and logical man, Hume was not one to foolishly stand on principle.  If saying a simple prayer saved his life, who cares?

And that gets to the heart of becoming enlightened through serving.  Ultimately, we must ask, who is it we serve first and foremost?  Ourselves?  God?  People?

Hume and other Enlightenment philosophers believed that most religious persons, like the milkmaid, are motivated to serve themselves first, God second, others last.  The milkmaid wanted to go to Heaven and was afraid of the alternative. To address that fear, she loved and served God.  Being more kindhearted than the other villagers, she also had sympathy for Hume.  She wisely concluded she could meet all three of these motivations with her cunning solution. 

As Hume said, she unknowingly expressed Christian theology better than any famous Minister.  Christians were and are, and I mean no disrespect here, motivated by self-interest to spend eternity in Heaven.  Pleasing God is secondary, but dependent, on that self-interested goal.  Helping others might come as a result of the first two.

But therein was a paradox for Hume, his fellow Enlightenment philosophers and, indeed, for any of us.  Without fear of death, and religious beliefs to address that fear, what is it that will motivate people to love their neighbors and serve?   Indeed, many commentators say that religion is the only reason people act morally.

Without religion, do we seek a quid pro quo arrangement when we serve others – I will rub your back only if you rub mine?  Or do we serve because it makes us feel good?

Some might say that since serving others makes us feel good, we are in fact motivated by self-interest.  If so, non-religious folks are no better than those who serve and love only in order gain eternal life.

Employing reason and logic, Hume responded “no!”    He returned to the core question.  Without religion and fear of death, what is it that will motivate people to serve?   Hume believed that wanting to serve others is a natural desire.  Empathy and benevolence are a part of human DNA.  We intrinsically WANT to serve.  If we feel good as a result, that is not what motivated us.  It is simply a by-product of serving – NOT the cause.

Therein is the pathway to enlightenment.  It is to dig beneath our egos and find that intrinsic part of us that desires to be good and do good.  We must understand ourselves by getting in touch with our motivations.  We must find our true – and good – selves.

I believe one does that by humbling oneself.  By doing so, we will see ourselves as mostly insignificant in the context of an immense universe.  Reason and science inform us that humans are nothing special.  We are subject to the same forces that influence all other parts of the universe – we’re born, we exist for a time, we die.  Even the chemicals that comprise us are no different then those in a tree or a distant planet. 

Indeed, Hume famously said that, “The life of man is of no greater importance to the universe than that of an oyster.”  Such a conclusion is a dagger at the heart of religious myth and superstition.  Most Scriptures say we are the reason God created the universe.  He made humans to please himself.   That’s why he demands loyalty and obedience.

But as we contemplate an almost limitless universe and as we understand the natural forces that created us, such delusions of a God centered importance are lost.  What makes me more special than an oyster, a planet or a tree?  The universe was not created for me or anyone else.  My fear of annihilation and death is, in truth, my self-interested desire to live forever – to be more important than any other created thing – all of which decay and die.

On his deathbed, David Hume was asked if he wanted to reconsider his Atheism and become a Christian.  At a point when death loomed near and fear can induce some to choose faith as a way to be at peace, Hume replied by telling a story.  In that story, he is standing on the banks of the river Styx, the mythical separation between life and death.  Charon, the boatman who transports people across the river, beckons him to come aboard.  “Wait!” Hume cries out.  “I’ve endeavored all my life to open the eyes of the public.  If you allow me but a few more years of life, I may see the downfall of superstition!” 

“Ha!” laughs Charon derisively.  “That will not happen for hundreds of years!  Do you think I should grant you a lease for such a long time?  Get in the boat now you lazy, loitering rogue!”

Faced with his death, Hume did not flinch.  His reason, sense of humor and deep humility remained.  The end comes for us all.  Why should anyone think they are exempt?

By seeking to understand my role in the universe – in light of an insignificant existence – that causes me to not only face reality, but also discover my true purpose.  If I am of no great importance, what is it that I  can bring to the world?  How can I make a difference?  Where can I touch the future – even though my name and life will be forgotten?   

I must find the true me and gain, as Hume implied, a more mature outlook rooted in reason, guided by love and absent fear. 

Awareness of my true but insignificant self does not demean me in an unhealthy way.  It does not mean I abandon meeting my basic needs.  Rather, inner awareness enables me to become a better “me”.  Freed from fear, freed from the need to pretend that I can live forever, that will empower me to understand my reason for living. And that is:   Because we each have goodness built into us, our purpose in life is to express kindness, love and service to others.

By arriving at that crucial discovery, I can then clearly see my path forward.  I might be of no greater importance than an oyster, but I can still find significance by how I live.  My impact on the future, my footprints in the sands of time, will come from whom and what I serve.  Shall I serve my ego and the immature self that only desires?  Or, shall I grow up, shall I embark on a path to enlightenment, shall I empower my inner goodness and SERVE the wider world?

I do not pretend that the prompts of ego are easy to throw away.  As much as I want to walk pathways to enlightenment, I can often fail.  Yes, I deeply want to serve, but my self-interest too often gets in the way.  I cannot say how many times when I contemplate my work and my responsibilities that I dream of finding a simple part time job and living a life of greater ease.  I admit to having a sense of obligation – and that partly motivates me.  But I’m also forced to challenge my selfishness and live according to my better angels. 

We each have many ordinary tasks to do in life, but there are also times when we can do extraordinary things – comfort someone who hurts, help a person in need, or advocate for marginalized and oppressed people.  Serving encompasses such deeds and it also includes speaking kindly, forgiving, and acting with humility.  If we are true to the goodness within us, if we have done the work to diminish our egos, we cannot help but want to do these things.  Service, love and kindness are what define us and what will last long past our lifetimes.   

Over the past few months, I’ve been asked by two members, at different times, what can an elderly Humanist do to practice their beliefs?  They want to know how they can still serve when the effects of aging make that difficult.

These two expressed what I’ve just stated – we all have built within us a yearning to love and give.  I told them the truth as I see it.  They still serve in countless ways.  They serve with their friendships, their gentleness, their wisdom, and their determination to grow old not with bitterness, but with grace, laughter and kindness.

The irony of enlightenment through serving is that it is continually self-fulfilling.  The more one serves, the more one gains enlightenment.  If you show me a person who serves without fanfare, who is regularly a person who gives and loves selflessly, I guarantee that person will be a humble, gentle and mostly enlightened soul.  I guarantee that person will leave his or her mark on the world in ways a thousand times greater than one who plasters his or her name across tall skyscrapers or emblazons it on a large jet.

Such is one reason this congregation commits itself to meet the needs of children.  We want to touch the future.  It’s why we serve in homeless shelters for young adults and kids.  It’s why we assemble weekend food packets for hungry school children or hygiene kits for homeless teens.  It’s why we’ve begun a new effort to tutor at risk children at a local school.  It’s why we are devoted to our Children’s eduction and OWL programs and why a few dedicated women – like MJ – sacrificially give up their Sundays to make that happen.  It’s why this congregation is committed to eliminate any vestiges of racism and white privilege in ourselves and our communities – so that all kids can grow up with opportunity.

We deeply believe in the value of reason and logic.  As David Hume wrote, reason tells us that humans are of no great importance to the universe.  We are not the reason it exists.  That can be a frightening awareness.  But with that truth comes our enlightenment – that we find our reason for living not from an external God.  We find it from within.  We find it in how we express the impulses of kindness and service that are knit into our very being.  We live, we find our value, we leave behind a legacy in what we do to selflessly serve.  Yes, we work to meet our own needs – but that work should only enable our true purpose.………….we are servants, plain and simple.   Knowing that, we know everything.

I wish you all peace and joy.

 

(c) Rev. Doug  Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

Ashley King was the daughter of two well-off believers in the religion of Christian Science.  At age six, Ashley developed a lump on her leg which turned out to be bone cancer.  She could have been treated and cured at that early stage.  Instead, her parents took her home and treated her only with prayer.  The lump grew to be as big as a watermelon.  Child services took Ashley away from her parents but by that time it was too late to save her.  Doctors, however, said her pain could be managed and greatly reduced during the time before she died.

Her parents sued and won back custody.  They refused pain management for Ashley and instead admitted her to a Christian Science sanitarium where she was treated with water and prayer.  Near the end of her life, she was shrieking and crying out in pain.  She lingered in that condition for several months until she died.

Less than 15 miles from here is the well-known Creation Museum.  One of its exhibits shows animatronic Adam and Eve figures interacting in Eden with dinosaurs who roar and rise up as if to threaten viewers.  It’s a big hit with children. 

The lesson the museum wants to get across is that the Biblical story of creation and a 6000 year old earth are true.  But countless scientific studies of geological rock layers, fossils, carbon 14 dating, and other fact based measurements – all prove totally different facts.  The earth and our universe are approximately 13.82 billion years old – a time proven by satellites measuring radiation coming rom the edge of the universe.  Sadly, however, 43% of Americans say they believe in the Bible’s version of creation and that the earth is very young.

In parts of Appalachia, there are small churches whose ministers and members regularly handle rattlesnakes as a part of Sunday services.  Many have been bitten and, while they could be medically treated and saved, most refuse.  The practice comes from three verses in the Book of Mark in the New Testament which says that Christians are protected by their belief in Christ such that they can handle dangerous snakes and won’t be harmed by poison.

In our country, diseases such as depression or addiction are often blamed on the negative choices of individuals.  Gay, lesbian and transgender people are also believed to choose their sexuality.  Such ideas come from Scripture stories about Adam and Eve.  In those stories, they willingly chose to disobey God”s orders.  Since it is believed we are their descendants, we too willingly choose our actions. 

Neurobiologists, however, have proven that we have limited control over our actions or thoughts.  They are determined by our body’s  biochemistry.  Being gay, being challenged by addiction disease and depression, or even being happy, these have been proven to originate from genetics and brain chemistry.  Indeed, most neurobiologists say that our consciousness – even our awareness of what is happening right now – are what they call “neuronal illusions.”  All our thoughts are ultimately produced and interpreted by chemistry.

What these illustrations indicate is that despite abundant facts and science based proofs about how our bodies and nature work, many religious superstitions still hold an irrational sway over millions of people.  Despite that fact, I believe spirituality also offers proven benefits based in fact..

As with most aspects of life, I look for grey areas and nuance within any argument or belief.  That’s the reason I’ve focused my message series this month on looking at paradoxes.  I believe much of life is a paradox.  Very few things, in my opinion, are absolute.  They are, instead, an ironic blend of good and bad, bright and dark, easy and difficult or somewhere between two opposites.  I discussed two Sunday’s ago the paradox of how pain is to be avoided and embraced.  Last week, I considered the fact that disruption is both chaotic and productive.  Today, I want to examine how spirituality is both superstitious and fact based.  Two seemingly inconsistent ideas are nevertheless both true.  That is the definition of paradox.

Carl Jung, the famous psychoanalyst, believed that spirituality is a basic human yearning equivalent to hunger for food.  Each person, at some level he said, seeks to understand his or her reason for existence.  We want to understand universal truths as we seek ongoing growth in our cognitive and emotional selves.  We hunger for some thing, some awareness, some force – whatever we might call it – that inspires awe.

The key to healthy spirituality is to pursue individual awareness of meaning and awe.  The unhealthy version of spirituality, Jung believed, is fundamentalism which rejects individual belief and instead dictates a static, once-and-for-all belief system that cannot be questioned. 

A common definition of superstition is “a belief, practice, or rite irrationally maintained by ignorance of the laws of nature.“  In other words, for me, any form of spiritual fundamentalism is the equivalent of superstition.

Jung thereby established what I believe is the paradox topic of my message.  Spirituality is superstitious as I’ve shown several examples of.  But, importantly, spirituality is also fact based.  And therein lies both the irony and the need to understand.  Even though both statements are true, and thus a paradox, all forms of spirituality are not good.  Superstition and fundamentalism are clearly unhealthy.

This realization came to Carl Jung when he was only twelve.  His father and eight of his uncles were Lutheran ministers.  As a child, he had been told what to believe.  As a boy sitting on a hillside overlooking a new Cathedral built in his town, with a blue, sunny sky and puffy clouds overhead, he saw a vision of God sitting on his throne high above the Cathedral.  Suddenly, in his vision, a giant turd fell from beneath God’s throne and smashed to pieces the shiny new Cathedral.  (Now that’s a vivid image!). 

         This vision was Jung’s epiphany.  Spirituality and whatever we believe God to be, or not be, cannot be something told to us.  Instead, they are things we must determine through our own searching and discovering.  And this concept is key to Jung’s beliefs about spirituality – and his core ideas about human psychology.

Jung taught that the way to mental and spiritual wholeness is to become self-aware.  He called this process individuation.  We must look inward, instead of outward, for self-validation, confidence and contentment.  This is part of the paradox of spirituality.  We must lose our egocentric self and its desires.  We must find our genuine self that hungers for inner peace, simplicity, compassion and meaning.  Individuation is about transforming the belief that things outside ourselves can make us happy  – things like money, God, alcohol, the opinions of others, power, or status.  It’s our inward reflections on life, purpose and kindness that helps us discover lasting happiness.  That is the heart of spirituality for Jung – to examine both ourselves and the big questions of life – and thereby find the kind of peace that comes from discovering our own path to Truth.

Such awareness helps us to see ourselves as we really are, instead of how we want to be seen.  What we’ll develop is the kind of humility that initiates our compassion, empathy and growth.  Individuation is closely tied to spirituality because it is all about personal discovery.

Fundamentalism and superstition, on the other hand, are beliefs that are not our own.  They are ideas from ancient writings or traditions lacking rational explanation.  They lead to unhealthy thinking that life is to be feared, that we are sinful and bad, and that we should all feel shame.  Fundamentalism encourages such thinking by telling people the only solution to life is to believe as they are told – and to accept the kinds of irrational ideas I mentioned at the beginning.

Truths about healthy spirituality, however, have all been proven.  They are widely accepted by scientists, doctors and psychologists.  Numerous studies have shown, for instance, that certain forms of prayer or meditation reduce stress, improve moods and increase overall good health. Mediation, reflection and even prayer that leads one on an inner journey are what Jung promoted – to search for our own answers and thereby gain contentment. 

Medical studies, as another example, show that stress, whether it be from work, illness or finances, causes our brains to initiate the fight or flight response.  That floods our bodies with the hormone cortisol which helps protect us in times of emergency.  If we feel constantly under stress, however, cortisol causes high blood pressure and a diminished immune system.  Meditation, prayer, worship or other spiritual practices have been shown to stop the fight or flight response and its negative affects on our health.

Mindful prayer or meditation can move us to an inner awareness that ironically detaches us from the self.  Much like Buddhism encourages letting go of desire, healthy spirituality can help us to recognize our vulnerabilities and accept simplicity.  We come to realize that we are but one small part of the universe.  That humbles us which leads to empathy and service to others.

One study from the Cancer Center at the University of San Francisco indicates that meditation, prayer and other forms of spirituality are highly effective ways people cope with crisis – particularly health challenges.  Finding an effective coping mechanism is what Carl Jung promoted.  Effective coping moves beyond the prompts of ego that focuses on self-pity and non-stop sorrow.  It finds hope through positive thinking, gratitude and compassion.

Other studies indicate that just being in spiritual community initiates hopeful and empathetic thinking.  Studies from Duke University and the Harvard Medical School show that any form of spiritual community, whether it be a church congregation, a yoga class or any like minded group that examines big ideas about life, they all promote inner examination and a sense of well-being. 

Social isolation or a sense of loneliness, whether real or perceived, are high predictors of depression and poor health.  But, any form of healthy spiritual community, these studies show, are proven antidotes to mental and physical disorders. 

Such is the ironic paradox of spirituality.  It’s why I, along with many other people, hesitate when pursuing anything labeled “spiritual”.  We link it to fundamentalist superstition.  Importantly, I have found for myself the point I want to make.  Yes, spirituality can be superstitious.  But, it can also  be fact based and life enriching.  I see it defined within that paradoxical context.  Unhealthy spirituality is fundamentalist superstition.  It rejects rational thinking.  Healthy spirituality, to the contrary, promotes pathways to humility, compassion, and happiness.

Like Jung, I believe that spiritual thought, introspection and practice are essential to a centered life.  I reflect and even pray from time to time when I’m alone or especially when I’m faced with a challenge.  Usually, I find in my meditations that my troubles lie within me.  I focus on my loss, my pain, my worry, my finances and how those make me anxious or sad.  The key words in such thinking are “me” and “my”. 

That is the primary reason I rejected, twelve years ago, the Christian faith and religious belief in general.  Contrary to Christianity’s alleged promotion of values like concern for others, its theology is founded on a concern for the self – to win eternal life, to constantly feel shame for allegedly sinning – and thus jeopardizing eternity in paradise.  Christianity was not a spirituality of my own making – even though I mistakenly turned to it many years ago as a way to cure me from being gay.  I thought I could change – and that God would do the changing.  Had I, early in my life, engaged in transforming my thinking from worry about what the outside world thinks of me, to seeking understanding and love of my inner self, I would have begun the process individuation.  Instead of looking to my soul and my heart, I looked to religion and unhealthy spirituality.

When I came out and turned away from religion twelve years ago, I experienced my own life paradox.  I had to reject spirituality in order to find it.  I had to discard the unhealthy variety and find the good.  For me, this spiritual path of my own making is not perfect.  I still stumble and fall.  But mostly, that’s OK.  I’m not a bad person, as I was once led to believe.  I’m simply a person, like all others, who occasionally fails.  I can either feel shame and self-loathing, or I can stand up, make amends and move forward hopefully wiser and stronger.

Superstitious spirituality is, for me, a path to nowhere.  It leads to

a meaningless life and an empty death.  The spiritual path of my own making is one that has freed me, empowered me and beckons me onward to grow and make a difference.  Spirituality can be frightening and full of dark superstitions…………………spirituality can be beautiful and enriching.  That’s the ironic paradox about it.  But, I trust, we will each choose the one that is beautiful and good.

I wish you each peace and joy.

Let’s conclude my message with what I encourage – reflection, meditation, prayer or silent thinking.  As I pass out what I call communion stones, take the stone when it comes to you, hold it just for a moment as you accept the love and good thoughts put into it before you.  Add your own caring thoughts and psd the stone to the person next to you.  Use these stones as a way to experience community in your heart – to feel the common bonds of  trust, sharing, acceptance, love and peace in our congregation.

(c) Doug Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

At several political rallies for Bernie Sanders this past Spring, protesters from the Black Lives Matter movement interrupted his speeches.  At one rally, two protesters even made their way onstage and took control of the microphone.   They challenged Sanders for not speaking about racism, inequality and the shooting deaths of unarmed black men by police.  Many Sanders supporters were deeply upset and said that actions by the protesters were both rude and misdirected.  Sanders has, after all, been an advocate for civil rights most of his life, including being one of those at the 1963 Washington DC march with Martin Luther King.   A few black commentators also criticized the protesters saying, as one did, that you should not “piss on your best friend.”   It was a shock to many progressives that Sanders and, by implication, all of them, should be attacked as racist.

Importantly, however, Sanders responded to the disruptions not by attacking the protesters but by changing his campaign and beginning to speak about racism.  On his campaign website, racial justice suddenly appeared as one of his top three concerns.  He began to talk forcefully about the need for criminal justice reform and he frequently mentioned the inconsistency that over two-thirds of those in prison are men of color when they make up less than 8% of the population.  He also began to directly tie his concern about economic inequality to racial discrimination. 

Many Black Lives Matter leaders praised Sanders for these changes.   But they also pointedly defended their disruptive tactics.  They compared their actions to Rosa Parks refusing to sit at the back of a bus, the lunch counter sit-ins by blacks in the 1960’s, the sit-down strikes of steel workers of the 1920’s and the so-called “die-ins” held by AIDS activists in the 1980’s. 

Numerous historians point out that civil disobedience has always been disruptive and it should cause discomfort.   Chaos, they say, creates the space and mindset that shocks otherwise complacent people.  Disruption is one of the most effective ways to cause change for the better.  In the case of Bernie Sanders, Black Lives Matter protesters were highly effective in causing him to change.

As I noted last week, there are many ironies and paradoxes about life that both confuse and intrigue us.  Studying a few of those paradoxes are the subjects of my messages this month.   Why should we, as I discussed last Sunday, both avoid AND embrace pain?  As a corollary to that question, why is disruption both difficult but ultimately helpful  – in our personal lives, in politics, in business and with regard to social justice?  That’s the paradox I want to consider today.   Disruption is both chaotic AND productive.

For instance, in our personal lives, why is it so often the case that when we are at our lowest, when chaos seems to control, that something good almost always emerges?  As guest speaker Matt Himm talked about two Sundays ago, he needed to hit rock bottom with his addiction disease  before he could courageously recover and build a life characterized by redemption and positive change.

Using another example, new technology is a radically disruptive force.  Computers and the internet are now displacing people from their jobs and creating massive dislocations in the workforce.  This technology disruption will continue for many years and the chaos it will cause in many sectors of the economy – and in the lives of many people – will be profound.

But digital technology is also improving efficiency and enabling us to enjoy more leisure and increased social good.  Uber, the ride sharing business, has forced thousands of taxi drivers out of work and disrupted their lives and the taxi industry.   But Uber has also substantially lowered costs for riders, encouraged greater ride sharing, reduced pollution and traffic, and, interestingly, has helped address racism.  African-Americans have historically had great difficulty hailing a cab.  Because of Uber technology and the instant sharing of names, credit card information and ratings of both drivers and users before a ride is even begun, there is a new found equality in transportation.  African-Americans say they now have access to taxi type services.  Uber is therefore being hailed as an example of the social good that can paradoxically come from disruption.

In politics, Donald Trump has caused perhaps the most chaotic election process in our nation’s history.  Nobody knows what will result from this election and if it points to a new era in American politics.  No matter who wins the election, Trumps supporters – and the disruptive tactics they support – are not likely to go away. 

But, just as important, his candidacy has caused many to examine the reasons why he is popular.  One of those reasons is the fact that millions of people have lost hope in the economy.  75% of people say that the American dream of succeeding through honest hard work is no longer true.  The next generation will, in fact, be the first one to be worse off than the preceding.  If Donald Trump, no matter what we think of his actions and demeanor, has succeeded in highlighting the decline of the American Dream, then that is a good thing – especially if elected officials take action to address it.

Regarding social justice, the killing of innocent black men and women – and the visual evidence we have of such killings – are terrible tragedies.  The protests that emerged and the retribution killing of police officers in Dallas and Baton Rouge have added to the disorder that now seems to grip our nation.  But those disruptive events are also causing a new and much wider examination of racism and white privilege.  No longer can white people ignore racism when they see it in videos of innocent black men, women and children being shot in the back, chocked to death on public sidewalks, killed in their cars or murdered on playgrounds.   Such horrors and protests about them have disrupted racial complacency in our nation and forced many to honestly examine themselves.  And that, ultimately, is a good thing.

The paradox I believe each of us must come to terms with is how we manage disruption so that even though it creates temporary chaos, it is not destructive – but is ultimately productive.  In my own life, I’ve related to most of you the story of my coming out twelve years ago.  By choosing to take a leap into unknown territory, to be honest with myself and others about who I am, I caused major disruptions in my life.  I lost my first job, people in my previous church who said they loved me abandoned me, and my marriage ended.  Other friendships were challenged and I was left feeling very alone.  For nearly two years I was numb, depressed and at the lowest point of my life.

It was at that low point, however, that I had to choose to accept the  chaos and deal with it, or retreat back to a dysfunctional but relatively stable life.  My coming out disruption would not have been successful had I not made the crucial decision to go forward.  Because of the chaos, I found new friends, new work and a new sense of peace and self confidence.   Like so many other people, I had to break down and disrupt the dysfunctional me in order to change for the better.

Interestingly, that disruption for me was ironically entwined with disruptions in the two congregations that now make up the Gathering at Northern Hills.  Had I not come out, I would never have met – on a hiking trail in Sedona, Arizona of all places – a man from Cincinnati who listened to my story and recommended I visit a small downtown church that would be friendly and supportive.  That church was the Gathering.   

Two years later, the Gathering experienced its own period of disruption when its founding minister departed.  And that directly led to the opportunity for me to become its minister.

Fast forward five years later, Ray Nandyal guest spoke at the Gathering one Sunday after a member, who twenty years earlier had been Ray’s landlord, recommended him as a speaker.  Ray later described to me and our Board a church called Northern Hills Fellowship that held similar liberal spiritual views and was experiencing its own disruption with the loss of two ministers.  As most of us know, that suggestion by Ray led to our congregations meeting and then exploring the possibility of merging.   The rest, as they say, is history.

Many experts say the way to harness the paradoxical power of disruption is to not allow it to become destructive.  Jill Lepore, an author who wrote a piece in the New Yorker magazine, suggests that chaotic disruption can either blow things up – OR create innovative and positive change.  To succeed, disruption must fundamentally shift the prevailing and often complacent way of thinking.  That is what happened to Bernie Sanders in his campaign and what Civil Rights protesters of the 1960’s achieved.  It’s what happened for me when I came out and what Matt Himm described in his healing process from the disease of addiction.  In each case, people had to change the way they had previously thought.

To be successful, disruption needs to be focused toward social good – greater efficiency in serving human needs, empowerment of those without power, and improved living conditions for everyone.  Disruptive chaos, therefore, cannot be allowed to run amok.  Author Richard Pascale, writes in his book The Edge of Chaos, that people and organizations must function during times of disruption on the razors edge of order AND chaos.  Pushed too far, chaos becomes anarchy.  Not pushed far enough, change does not occur.  As he writes, “Nothing novel can emerge from systems with high degrees of order and stability.”

The balance for most organizations and people is to adopt what he  calls “polyarchy”.  Between the extremes of anarchy, where chaos is the only constant, and oligarchy, where too much order and control exists, lies a middle ground of dispersed control – or “polyarchy”.  Power is not highly centralized but there is just enough organization such that productive change can occur.  I believe this congregation comes close to matching that middle ground ideal.  On a personal level, one must endure the period of disruption while channeling it into something good – a wake up call, an opportunity for a life reset, and a time to examine what is one’s life purpose.

The good that comes from chaos lies in its principle of randomness.  Modern mathematicians and physicists have studied chaos theory and its popular comparison to the so-called butterfly affect.  As that analogy goes, when a single butterfly flaps its wings in South America, weather in Texas is affected a month later.  What that means is that one seemingly minor disruption produces a series of random events that cause significant but unpredictable outcomes.  That’s why long term weather forecasts are so difficult.

Determinism, as the opposite of chaos, is a way to control and direct events.  One stands at point A and determines that he or she will reach Point F by way of Points B, C, D and E – a linear and logical way forward.  The problem with determinism in any of our lives is that we cannot control or predict events that happen to us.  With courage, determination and a small application of wisdom, we must allow disruptive events to unfold as they come – trusting the outcome may not be known but it will be good.

Imagine the butterfly affect as it related to me and to this congregation.   Disruptions that occurred in my life and in the lives of both former congregations each randomly led to where we are today.  Had any of us refused to accept disruption – had I retreated to my former life, had the Gathering closed its doors when its founding minister departed, had Northern Hills panicked when it lost its previous ministers, had Northern Hills not come together to function without a minister for two years, we would not be here today.  Even more, none of us could have put in place the random events that did cause the good we now have.  Any one of those events – and many others that are too time consuming to mention – were unpredictable, random and seemingly chaotic.   But with our determination and courage, good things happened.

Much like I said last week about pain, disruption in life is a force for good.  We must refuse the impulse to fear it and flee from it.  When the events of life seem to overwhelm us in their chaos, when life seems dark and perhaps even hopeless, let us remember to hang on.  Let’s summon the inner strength we each have to persevere – while also importantly remembering that disruption is a cleansing and healing force if we channel it in the right way.  We are people who yearn for all that is good and true in the world and in ourselves.  Life is a paradox, it is often chaotic, but it can also be so beautiful and so very wonderful. 

        I wish us each disruptive peace and joy! 

    

(c) Doug Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

 

If you have ever studied or read ancient Greek mythology, you likely know about the story of Atlas.  He is the fictional son of the Greek god Titan.  His family tried to take control of the heavens by fighting its rulers – the Olympians.  The Titans lost that battle and Atlas was then punished.  For all eternity he was to hold up, through physical struggle, the position of the sun, moon, stars and planets.  He can never rest or sleep.  His is an endless life of suffering seemingly devoid of meaning.

Ayn Rand is an author who is the darling of the contemporary Tea Party and conservative political movement.  Writing about the age old question on the purpose of life, Rand believed that human meaning is solely found in the pursuit of happiness.  Each individual is responsible for his or her own contentment.  We either succeed in finding it or we don’t – but it is up to us.  No government, organization or community is responsible.

In her famous novel Atlas Shrugged, Rand conveys this message.  She also implies, through the title of her book, that we too should shrug off and scorn life’s challenges.  There is no purpose or good in them.  The mythical figure Atlas stoically accepts the sacrifice imposed on him by Olympian authority when he should, Rand claims, rebel.  It’s pleasure and not pain that should define our lives.

She wrote in her novel, “It’s not that I don’t suffer, it’s that I know the unimportance of suffering.  I know that pain is to be fought and thrown aside…”

For Rand, humans fight against powerful authorities who cause us to suffer.  Society and government are our real problems, not pain.  Authorities force us to alleviate the hurts of others and bear their burdens – even though they are not our own.  Life, for Rand and her many admirers, is what we alone make it.  It doesn’t take a village to raise a child.  It’s sink or swim on your own.

Of course, I completely disagree with Rand’s perspective.  Yes, pain and hardship are inevitable realities in life.  As a minister, I see the pain that exists in the lives of every person I get to know.  None of us are free from hardship – whether it be related to our health, age, relationships, state of mind or work.  All we need do is look at the front page of any newspaper to see the widespread reality of pain.  Violence and war cause innumerable numbers of people to suffer.  The murder of innocent lives in this nation – from Orlando to Baton Rouge to Dallas – has caused many to suffer.  Others are continually oppressed by racism, religious intolerance, sexism or homophobia.  Millions are unemployed or underemployed and cannot provide for their families.  Some of us recently saw the heartbreaking sight of a lunchroom filled with over a hundred homeless children – kids as young as five with no room or home to call their own, no yard in which to play, no place to feel safe.  How many of those kids fall asleep at night in strange beds in strange shelters and cry silent tears of frustration at the unfairness of life?  How many more kids around the world live in squalid refugee camps or slums and witness the hopeless despair of their parents?  How many other kids are now in children’s hospitals wracked with cancers from which they will not recover?   Pain and psychic hurt are terrible, terrible realities.

My message series this month, on the irony of paradox, will look at  seemingly inconsistent truths that, instead of confounding us, can instead empower us.  As much as we can and should avoid pain, I believe we must also embrace it.  And therein lies one ironic paradox I want to consider today.  How do we both try to avoid suffering while also embracing it?  To embrace hardship is, for me, to understand its benefits: its distinctive ability to focus my mind, change my attitude, enlarge my heart, encourage my humility and, ultimately, enable my purpose for living. 

         In other words, embracing pain is first about acknowledging it is an ever present reality.  Since that is so, I can either retreat into an ego-centric, arrogant and futile effort to put a bandaid on it through the selfish pursuit of pleasure……….or, I can embrace pain and use it to find my better self.  Suffering is the window through which I find the meaning of life:  to grow as a person and thereby help improve the world. 

It may seem that the pursuit of pleasure is the only means to contentment but that, of course, is a false prescription,  Such thinking is born from the human instinct to survive at all costs by stepping on or ignoring one’s neighbors.   Sex, drugs, money, power and material things may stimulate the pleasure centers of my brain, but it is an ironic truth that I find my noblest self when I’ve been tested in the crucible of hardship……or when I’ve helped lessen the pain of another.  That crucible of hardship often burns away my selfish thinking that I don’t deserve to suffer.  It causes me to look beyond my hurt and see all the good in life.  It leads me to see the more difficult struggles of others and it thereby calls me to soothe, love, give back and serve.   Effectively dealing with challenges in my life and in others is a way to justify my very existence. 

Ayn Rand’s viewpoint therefore offers me a stark choice.  I can either focus on the supposed unfairness of hardship, or I can focus on what gives me joy, gratitude and meaning. 

In that regard, I appreciated Michelle Obama’s recent comment that when critics of her husband and family get their loudest and most cruel, the Obama response is not to go low, but go high.  When my own inner voices of lament get their loudest, I can either respond with self-pity and sink into a pit of despair, or I can embrace the opportunity to learn, appreciate and love.

Because of what I’ve just said, I hesitate to now talk about the primary pain in my life right now.  To talk about it might seem self-indulgent and as if I solicit your sympathy.  I do not. 

I constantly think about my mother and the cruel disease that has caused the mom I knew to have passed away.  Dementia has seemingly stripped her of the woman I loved – the mom who was my cheerleader, who soothed my growing pains, who stood by me in my failures, who accepted my coming out as a gay man and who smiled with pride about my work as a minister.  If there is one person with whom I most identify, it is her.  And now it seems I’ve lost her forever and that fact often fills me with terrible sadness.

To my discredit, I have too often succumbed to pity for her and me.  I am like her in so many ways – even down to having inherited her hearing loss.  I envision myself one day inheriting her dementia and that leads me to all sorts of selfish thinking.  What is the point of my work and my life if I am to one day suffer her fate?  Perhaps I should heed Ayn Rand’s prescription, abandon my work, my responsibilities, my sense of purpose and instead pursue a few years of simple pleasure.

I sometimes think that the Sunday messages I offer here are more for my own benefit than for all of you.  When I think about what I want to say, when I research and write, I am convicted by my own flaws and inconsistencies.  It’s so easy to tell others not to wallow in self-pity.  It’s quite another thing for me to follow that advice. 

But, after visiting my mom the past two weeks, after seeing her new demeanor, after considering this topic on the paradox of suffering, I had a small epiphany.  My mom’s dementia and my thoughts about it are only painful if I allow them to be so.  I do not suggest dementia is a good thing.  What I do suggest is that this disease has happened and continues to happen to countless people.  My mom and I are not special.  Why should we not experience pain like anyone else – or any of you – many of whom I know are dealing with very difficult life challenges. 

I can choose to tell the sad story of this so-called tragedy in my mom’s and my life.  Or, I can choose to tell myself, and then believe, inward stories about the multitude of blessings and joys in my life – including that of being able to visit, hug, speak to and love my mom.  If I do that, I will go high in my thinking.  I’ll escape thoughts of entitled sorrow.  I’ll see opportunities to expand my attitude about life.  I have a long way to go to be more mature, aware, and humble, but this supposed hardship can help me.  I’ll better see my life purpose as one of service – to my daughters, to my work as a minister, to you my friends and colleagues, to the community around me.  Instead of trying to run away from this pain, I must run toward it, use it and embrace it.  I cannot change the fact that it exists, but I can change my thinking about it.  I can transcend it and see my mom’s dementia as strangely beautiful and empowering – for her and for me.   Life is full of irony and paradox.  Avoid pain.  Embrace pain.  As one anonymous commenter once said, “life is hard, but suffering is optional.”

          These observations come after visiting my mom in her new residence facility in California.  I traveled to see her these last few weeks with a lot of fear.  I was concerned she would not know me and that she would be even more confused and upset away from the home she loved.  Instead, I found a mom filled, in her own way, with the wisdom and grace she’s always had.  She told me just before I left that she’s happy where she lives now.  “This is my home”, she said.  “I like it.”

Even though she does not remember much that happens in her daily life, she somehow has subconsciously remembered an enduring quality within her – to be happy, to smile, to make friends, to be considerate of others.  I like to think that if I have any of those qualities, they come from her.  And so I saw my mom not hurting, even though dementia is a difficult disease.  She has chosen to be content.  She has somehow transformed her attitude.  She’s telling herself new and happier stories.  She’s, in a sense, the mom I’ve always known – she’s kind to other residents, she tries to reach out to help them, she is grateful to the staff who assist and comfort her.  She’s happy.

Experts report she has done what I must do.   Many studies have shown that those who think within a box of sadness, depression, loneliness and suffering feel additional physical and emotional pain all the more acutely.  It’s as if the brain becomes so conditioned to feeling like it suffers that any additional stimulus of pain, even one like a dull pin prick, is felt all the more. 

But, these same studies show that those who think within a wider realm of contentment, joy and inner peace, added stimuli of pain are rarely felt.  Their brains are the reverse of those who exist with a mindset of suffering.  People who think they are happy have brains conditioned such that they remain happy even when hardships happen.  That is the power of positive thinking, of being grateful for the blessings of life, and for literally choosing to go high and transcend attitudes of “why me?”

I find myself, along with you, on a continual journey to understand my existence.  Since life is so difficult and often sad, what is the point of it?  For me, life is, yes, about avoiding pain and seeking to suck all that is pleasurable about living out of the universe – to thrill at the beautiful lives of my daughters, to venture into the glories of nature, hike a mountain trail, or wake to a vibrant sunset.  I’m also beginning to understand that my life is about embracing my hardships – to suck all that I can learn about meaning, kindness and grace out of them.

It is fascinating to me that these two different truths about how to approach life are both true, seemingly at odds with one another and yet are paradoxically not.  For me, and perhaps for you, I want to both accept the reality of pain, seek to avoid it but also cherish its transformative power.  Life is, indeed, very hard but it is also filled with glorious beauty and amazing ways to grow, serve and love.  Such is a paradox of our existence: avoid pain; embrace pain.

I wish each of you much peace and joy…

 

Please click here to listen to Matt’s message:

(c) Rev. Doug Slagle, Minister to the Gathering at Northern Hills, All Rights Reserved

Omar Capo was one of the youngest persons shot and killed during last Sunday’s hate crime in Orlando.  His family moved from Puerto Rico to Cleveland when Omar was a child, but last year he came out to his family as gay and moved to Orlando.  In an interview with NPR this past week, Omar’s sister talked about her brother with a voice that was almost cheerful.  It was disconcerting to me at first – how could she sound happy when she had just tragically lost her brother?

But she explained herself.  Omar had told his family about a year ago, soon before he moved to Florida, that if anything bad happened to him, they should not mourn but instead be happy.   

Omar, it seems, loved to dance – from reggae, to hip-hop to salsa.  He found joy in dancing whenever he could.  He was a person who made others happy – and dancing was a primary way he expressed himself – often in spontaneous moments of joy at home or school.  He would simply start dancing in the middle of everyday events.

Omar told his family before he left Cleveland that if he should die, he’ll be somewhere dancing, and that is how they should think of him.  His favorite color was yellow, his sister said.  It’s a happy color and one that Omar pointed out is a vibrant one in rainbows and on rainbow flags.  Perhaps when any of us see a rainbow flag and its yellow stripe in the future, we will think of Omar and all the others like him who were killed and wounded in Orlando.  We might imagine them dancing as they happily were last Sunday morning – just before hatred showed its ugly face.

It’s been an emotional week as a result of the Orlando shootings.  In what seems to have been a hate crime directed at gays and lesbians, the attack is therefore personal for many in the LGBT community.  It reminds us that homophobia still exists – that some consider us less than normal, unwelcome, and deserving of being scorned and killed.  But the attack was also a larger American tragedy and one that drives home the point that we are all vulnerable to random attack and death from gun violence.  It ought to make every person ponder the question of what to do about hate and anger mixed with easy access to military assault rifles.  In the midst of a busy and emotional week for me for several reasons, a week in which I often felt very down, it was hard to spend time pondering the meaning of the tragedy and what can be done.  Yet, in preparing for today, I quickly realized the inspiring example of Omar Capo and other victims – they speak to what I planned for this message.

       How might we spend our upcoming summer, hopefully a time of some relaxation and time off, meditating on deeper questions?  Many of us will take a vacation in the coming months – a journey to a place of interest or fun that will revitalize our physical selves.  But will we take an inner journey to heal and enlarge our souls?  We talk about peace in our world but are we willing to do the work of creating that within ourselves?  Might we work to find the inner peace and contentment that young Omar Capo found?

Depak Chopra, the famous contemporary spiritual guide, says that he believes our outer selves, or our bodies, are driven primarily by our egos – the part of us that has needs, demands and fears.  Our outer domain is focused on material things and satisfying desires.  Our inner domain, however, is driven entirely by love – for ourselves and for others.  Nurturing and healing our inner selves is the means by which we feel self-love and what compels us to also love others.  Failing to take regular inner journeys can result in a failure to truly love ourselves and thereby be compassionate and empathetic to others.

This distinction between our inner and outer selves is interesting.  Neither domain is good or bad but in today’s modern world, many of us have let our egos, or our outer selves, dominate.  We seek pleasure and we avoid pain.  But we do all of that on an external level – one that mostly affects how we physically experience life.

To tap into our inner selves and find a lasting reward of peace and love, we have to purposefully remove ourselves, for a time, from the needs and wants of our flesh.  It’s for that reason that almost all of the world’s religions encourage some type of temporary fasting, or denial of self, that facilitates an inner journey.  Muslims, this month, are engaged in Ramadan reflections – a time of abstinence from daytime eating and pleasures in order to find connection with God and love. 

For me, in today’s modern world, removing myself from outside influences involves what I call “turning off in order to turn on”.  How can I, for brief periods of time, turn off the outside world of TV, radio, computer and smartphone in order to turn on to my inner self – my soul, emotions, deepest hopes, and thoughts?  In doing so, might I find the source of happiness that doesn’t depend on physical well being?

Summer is a perfect time of year for such an inner journey because it is a time when I am, at least, in closest touch with nature.  I want to spend more time outdoors and, in doing so, I want to use that time to appreciate the wonders of nature and to reflect.

It is for such reasons that Henry David Thoreau retreated into the woods at Walden Pond for his reflections.  As he said, “We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn.  We need the tonic of wilderness.”

Nature is both a physical and a metaphysical playground – a place to renew our bodies AND our souls.  Only in nature can we detach ourselves from things we have made, and instead commune with things we cannot make – mountains, forests, and oceans.  As I said last week, we then come into the presence of majesty that inspires awe.  Having returned to nature’s womb, we can better celebrate ourselves and deeply think about what we want from life.

The three major world religions each offer examples of how persons called mystics plumbed the depths of their inner selves to arrive at enlightenment.  Sufism, for example, is the mystical branch of Islam – of whom Rumi is its most famous philosopher.  He spent much of his time alone as he lived an ascetic life with few luxuries.  He cared for pilgrims who came seeking his advice – listening to their concerns, cooking for them, and housing them, for free, in his small house.   For Rumi, denying oneself is a way to undertake an inner journey to find truth and peace of mind.  Many Sufis go beyond regular Muslim worship and practice rituals such as repeatedly whirling in a circular dance that induces a kind of trance.  In doing so, Sufis escape the outer world and enter a contented state of mind.  As Rumi said, “When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”

Judaism likewise has its expression of mysticism in the Kabbalah stream of belief.  It, too, focuses on exploring the inner self by intentionally denying worldly pleasures.  Kabbalah Judaism asks that followers abandon desires and egotism – the worst of which, they believe, is arrogance.

Jews who transcribed the Dead Sea scrolls and lived a hundred years before Jesus are said to be the first Jewish Kabbalah mystics.  Like Thoreau and Muslim Sufis, these ancient Jews, or Essenes as they are called, abandoned civilization and retreated to a spot in the arid hills overlooking the Dead Sea.  There they led a harsh but simple life of communal sharing, humility, non-violence and study of the Torah to find messages from Yahweh.

Like the whirling ritual of Sufis, these ancient Jews practiced their own ritual by daily immersing in water by which they felt spiritually purified.  Only by symbolically washing themselves of worldly influences could they find clarity of mind to feel Yahweh’s presence.

St. Francis of Assisi and Hildegard of Bengin were both early Christian mystics who also explored the inner self.  Hildegard is one of the earliest of female Saints – a woman who like mystics from other religions – denied herself worldly pleasures.  She insisted on living in a crude one room hut instead of a warm and dry convent building.  Only in that kind of life, she said, could she feel near God.

Her emphasis was on expressing true love.  In her mystical visions, she saw what she described as a bright shining light that filled her with a sense of being totally loved.  She believed that God only speaks and acts with love, that God and love are the same, and that humans express and feel God only when they love others.

And St. Francis, the namesake of the current Pope, was also a medieval mystic who lived a simple life.  But his teaching was not against possessions themselves – mere things as he called them – but against the mindset of possessing.  If we think we possess something, we are making an object more important than our inward contentment and the well-being of others.

Francis was also an early version of a pantheist, what I described last week.  He saw God in everything – in all of nature.  Indeed, he even went so far as to say that trees, worms and flowers are physical manifestations God’s love.  Like Rumi, the Essenes, and Hildegard, God for Francis was the embodiment of love.

One of the mystical visions Francis described was of seeing a leper come towards him carrying a piece of rotten meat.  The leper was both horribly contagious and smelled awful.  Francis, in this vision, rode his horse away as fast as possible.  But something caused him to turn around, get off his horse, approach and then kiss the leper.  In doing so, according to his vision, the leper’s face became that of Jesus.  From that point onward, Francis was convinced that it is in loving and serving the poor and hurting people of the world that one encounters pure goodness and total love.

I have no illusions that any of us will experience the kinds of lives that mystics led.  I also don’t expect us to believe in their mysticism.  But for these mystics and millions of people who are inspired by them, their inner journeys led to personal contentment.  We need not see visions of Jesus or live in a crude shack.  But we can find our own version of inner peace.  Each mystic found communion with nature and they all experienced an ecstatic experience that they defined as feeling totally loved. Such are inner journey goals we might set for ourselves.

As a practical matter, I believe there are several ways to explore our inner selves that will offer insight.  The first is to explore attitudes about ourselves.  Are we content with ourselves, what we do, and what we have done in life?  Are we content by ourselves or do we feel uneasy and nervous when alone – as if when we are with a stranger we do not like?  Can we honestly say that, yes, “I love myself?  If we can’t, then we ought to explore reasons why we don’t love ourselves and seek ways to correct that.

Second, we should examine how we feel about our jobs, daily activities or hobbies.  Are we happy in what we do – in our work, volunteering or hobbies?  So many people work long days but don’t find meaning and pleasure in what they do.  In a recent Gallup poll, over half of Americans say they dislike their daily work or activity.  During an inner journey, it is important to ask yourself if you are happy with what you do – and if not, to ponder instead the work or activities that will give you joy and purpose.

Third, the inner journey involves asking what is our connection with nature?  I believe that true happiness lies outside man-made structures.  It’s found in the outdoors and in our appreciation of nature through walks, silently sitting within it, or gazing upon and contemplating natural wonders.

During an inner journey, we should also get in touch with our true emotions.  How do you feel about yourself, life, and other people?  Are you angry, depressed or fearful?  Being outside and in nature, we cannot help but feel loved by a universe that made us.  That feeling, for me, helps eliminate some of my negative emotions.

Ask yourself during an introspective inner journey many questions.  What inspires you?  What gives you meaningful pleasure in life?  How can you sacrificially serve others who cannot, in turn, help you?  By asking these questions, we can better understand how to find peaceful contentment.  Love yourself.  Love what you do.  Love other people.

      President Obama said in his remarks about the victims in Orlando that they were doing nothing more than happily living life and asserting their civil rights.  He was right.  Omar Capo, who I described earlier, had found the keys to a joyful and purpose filled life.  He’d likely undertaken his own inner journey – one that beckoned him to come out and live truthfully as a gay man.  And in that truth, and in his inner self, he’d found happiness – the kind that is infectious and lasting.  If we want a world of peace and joy, then we each must find them within ourselves. This summer, let’s get outside.  Let’s thrill at the beauty of nature and our place in it.  And then, may we each feel the kind of infinite love that both conquers hate and lasts forever.