Author: Doug Slagle

Message 107, “Renewing Gathering Vows: Leaning Forward in Faith”, 9-16-12

(c) Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering, All Rights Reserved

 

Click here to listen to message.  See below to read it.

 

“The Lottery”, by Shirley Jackson, is one of the most famous and heralded of American short stories.  While it is entirely fiction, the story details in unsettling ways the human propensity to fear change and to embrace traditions no matter how wrong or outdated.   Some of you may have read the story.  If not, I encourage you to read it in its entirety online or view a rendition of it on YouTube.  I will paraphrase a shortened version here.

The story opens by describing a small town of three hundred people.  It is early summer – June 27th to be exact.  School has just ended, crops have been planted for several weeks and the long summer is at its infancy.  On what seems a bright and hopeful summer day, there is nevertheless palpable tension in the air.

People begin to gather in the village square at 10 AM.   The annual lottery will be held and the whole village attends – apparently by choice.  It takes two hours to conduct and is held every year on same date.  Boys arrive first and each then goes in search of stones and rocks which are placed in small piles around the square perimeter.  Next, other children begin to arrive, but their play is tentative.  The women come next and assemble in small groups to whisper quietly about family, church or other bits of gossip.  Finally, the men and other heads of family arrive and mill around, talking about their farms and hopes for a good harvest.

Mr. Summers, the village Postmaster and leader of the lottery, announces its beginning.   Families quickly gather together – moms and dads sharply beckon their children to stand by their sides.  The crowd of three hundred is hushed – only the sound of birds and the wind is heard.

A few men carry into the center of the square a large black box.  It is scratched and chipped and every year people say it needs to be replaced.  But, year after year, nobody does anything to make a new one.  Old man Warner, the oldest resident of the village, says it cannot not be changed – the box is made of scraps of wood from the original box dating back hundreds of years, he reports.  While old and shabby, it is clear that villagers look at the box with a mixture of awe and fear.

Mr. Summers sticks his hand into the box and stirs its contents – folded bits of white paper.  It was only a few years ago that paper replaced wood chips.  Paper is more compact and can be stirred in the box more easily.  He then asks heads of households – mostly men – to come forward to pull out of the box one piece of folded paper.  Nobody is allowed to unfold their paper until everyone has picked.  Since there are several families whose men have died young, a few women come forward to pick for their families.

During the selection, a few women talk to one another about how the North Village – a town only a few miles away – had stopped the annual lottery – all in the name of progress, one woman said.  Another village further away also ended the lottery.  They seem happy another woman noted.  Mr. Warner, the old man, quickly speaks up and says the North Village is full of young fools.  “Nothing good will come from abolishing the lottery,” he says.  “It’s been done for hundreds of years.”  Others nod in agreement.

After all heads of family have chosen a folded paper, Mr. Summers announces they can be opened.  Very quickly, several women speak at once.  “Who has the paper with the black dot on it?”  People look around expectantly and most smile with relief.

Finally, it’s revealed that one of the men, Bill Hutchinson, has the piece of paper with a black dot on it.  His wife, one who had just nodded in agreement that the lottery must not be changed, speaks up.  “It’s not fair!” she says.  “My husband Bill was forced to rush in choosing his paper.  He wasn’t given time like everyone else to choose which paper to pull out.  It’s not right!”

Mr. Summers says that Bill had been given the same time as everyone else.  Others quickly agree.  Bill tells his wife to be quiet.

Mr. Summers then asks Bill how many are in his family – to account for all of his children and the few cousins living in the house.  There are ten of them.

Ten pieces of paper are placed in the box, one with a black dot on it.  Each family member solemnly goes forward to pick one out of the box.  The kids go first and as each does, they excitedly hold up a blank piece.  Bill finally chooses but his wife refuses.  “This is just wrong.” she says.  “It wasn’t conducted fair.”  Most in the crowd frown and shake their heads.  Bill takes her by the hand and forces her to pick the final piece.  Bill opens his paper and it is blank.  Mrs. Hutchinson has the one with a black dot.

“Ok.”  Mr. Summers announces.  “Let’s finish this quickly.”  People begin picking up stones.  Several of the women grab very large rocks – some so heavy they can barely lift them.  The men chose ones that are sharp edged.  A suitable stone was given to each of the Hutchison children.

“This is not right!”  Mrs. Hutchison yells.   The crowd quickly encircles her in the center of the square.  One small stone comes out of nowhere and hits her on the side of the head.   “No!” she screams.  But the villagers press in upon her as the stones begin to fly……….

What is troubling about the story is its depiction of crowd dynamics.  People often seem forced, by peer pressure, to go along with what others express.  Another clear theme of the story is the power of tradition.  People like to do things the way they have always been done.  Indeed, the story does not describe why this lottery, that nobody wants to win, is held every year.  The reason does not seem to matter as much as the tradition itself.  And the fact that other villages had abolished it only causes more ridicule of any idea to change its practice.  Only the foolish and the young, it seems, pursue change.

There is an obvious message in the story.  Traditions, rituals and time honored beliefs hold strong and often evil powers over people.  Too often we do not like change and we do all we can to avoid it.  We fear the unknown and what that might mean for us as individuals or as groups.  We don’t change old habits – even if we know some of them hurt us – negative ways of thinking, acting, eating or speaking.  The patterns of our lives, even harmless ones, become set and then become too comfortable.  We like things the way they are.

Louis L’Amour, the great fiction writer of western themed novels, wrote in one of his books, “Even those who fancy themselves the most progressive will fight against other kinds of progress, for each of us is convinced that our way is the best way.”

Two weeks ago, I reminded us of our Gathering motto – that we are a “Progressive and Inclusive” church.  We explored in that message what it means to be inclusive and how we will continue to be a radically inclusive church – one that chooses to love and celebrate others no matter how different.  As Don Fritz pointed out last week, we may not particularly like or agree with everyone, but we will love and respect them.

For today, I want to explore with you what it means to be a “progressive” faith community.  I want to discuss how we renew our vow to be a progressive congregation.  Like many labels, the word progressive has taken on many meanings.  For some, it is a generic phrase that simply means “liberal.”   But we are not a political organization.  Indeed, as a tax exempt church, the Gathering is legally barred from expressing political views about candidates, parties or how to vote.  As your Pastor, I want to insure that we scrupulously adhere to the law and to what is ethical.  We are a spiritual community – not a political one.

But our claim to be progressive does not apply to our politics.  It applies to our spirituality, our values and the way we will practice them.  To be a progressive is to accept the world as dynamic and ever changing.  Spiritual progressives believe the same.   They see faith, spirituality and its practice as constantly evolving.  Those of progressive faith do not accept ancient religious doctrines or practices as hard fact. They see the world as it is now and reinterpret universal truths – religious or otherwise – in light of new times and new circumstances.

Two thousand years ago, when the Bible was written, most people believed that some humans could be owned and held in bondage to serve the needs of others.  The New Testament commands slaves to obey their masters.  As human society evolved, as new ideas about universal human rights were developed, slavery was no longer seen as common practice – one that even spiritual people accepted.  Instead of being endorsed by religion, slavery was reinterpreted as a grave sin.

So too with gender equality.  Paul commanded that women obey their husbands, that they should wear head coverings to show their submission and even ordered that in decent Christian communities, no woman should have authority over any male aged 13 or up – in church or in a home.  Such paternalistic ideas were a part of many religions at the time – and some still hold them.  For most people today, however, such ancient commands conflict with a new spiritual understanding of human equality.  Indeed, even in some conservative churches and synagogues today, ones that profess to believe in the absolute authority of the Bible, those Biblical verses are no longer followed as women are now equal members and are given leadership positions, including that of being a Pastor.

To be a member of a progressive spiritual community is to believe that ancient traditions, practices and Scriptures evolve over time.  Religious scholars call this “progressive revelation.”  Spiritual ethics and principles reveal themselves to humanity over time.  Indeed, this is a way to interpret the Bible, other scriptures and any written document.  What we discover from ancient texts are ideals revealed to us now in ways that were not apparent to the ancients or even to people a few hundred years ago.  Those people were not necessarily any more good or bad in their beliefs.  They simply operated under a different set of values consistent with their time and place.

Many interpreters of the Bible today find in that text an overall ethic of love and acceptance for all people – ideals that reveal to many people of today that god also loves gays, lesbians and transsexuals.  To be a progressive in faith is be open to such an interpretation of religious scripture.  To be a progressive in faith is to read and understand ancient texts in a new light, using new scientific discoveries and new wisdom.  The ancients, for instance, did not have a modern, scientific understanding of the human psyche and how sexuality is genetically determined, or at a very, very early stage of life.  Nor did they understand the cause of most diseases and handicaps.  Such afflictions were a sign of God’s displeasure and people who suffered from them were to be avoided as sinful or evil.

For us at the Gathering, if we accept and truly believe our motto – that we are a progressive church – then we must continue our effort to live up to that ideal.  We are open to progress.  We refuse to be rigid in our beliefs, practices, values and ways of doing things.  This does not mean we abandon old ways for the sake of the new.  Progressives build upon the past – not replacing it but adding to it.   They add new practices and new beliefs to time tested and valuable old ones – while accepting that very few things are forever.

Indeed, evolution is gradual and rarely sudden.  Change occurs over time and always improves upon the old.  It is usually rational, orderly and sequential.  It took centuries of philosophy and deep thought for humanity to evolve the rights of individuals – to move from the rights of Kings and nobles to the rights of serfs, farmers and laborers; to move from the rights of men to the equality of both genders; to then advance the cause of all races, faiths and ethnicities and, soon, to the right for any man or woman to love and marry whomever one chooses.

At each stage of human equality, however, were people who feared change and who sincerely sought to hold onto the ways of the past.  Progressives of each succeeding era embraced change, advocated for it and worked to implement it.  We at the Gathering are spiritual progressives working in our day and time to create change for the better – and to reject fear based injustice.

We do not accept that old ways of religion, belief and spiritual practice are unchanging.  We look to new ways to build upon the faith of our ancestors – to take their principles of divine love, generosity, decency, integrity, beauty, and compassion and build upon them.  We adapt them to the pressing needs of today.  We lean forward in faith.

In practical terms, I believe the Gathering must be rigorously progressive in ALL that it does.  How we conduct our services, our music, our prayers, and how we serve others must be continually examined and questioned.  Do they meet the needs not only of current members but of potential new members?  Are we willing to show our love to others and their diverse tastes by our willingness to adopt changed ways of doing things?

For us as a congregation and us as individuals, we know what we like and we know our core values.  We need not abandon them.  But, we are also willing to EVOLVE!  We are willing to build upon the good we have now and create something deeper, better and more meaningful – in music, in messages, in serving, in all that we do.

Countless philosophers and statesmen have opined on this subject.  Winston Churchill said that, “To change is to improve.  To be perfect is to change often.”  Machiavelli, the renaissance author of The Prince, wrote that “Whosover desires success must change his or her conduct with the times.”  And Dwight Eisenhower, the twentieth century Republican, said “Neither a wise person nor a brave soul lies down on the tracks of history and waits for the train of the future to run over him or her.”

We at the Gathering, therefore, will continue to be bold in our faith and how we live that out.  We renounce the status quo and confess that we are still a work in progress.  We renew our vow to be progressive.  We renew our vow to be bold visionaries.

It took a bold vision, for instance, to defy our seven year history of not holding a rummage sale – as minor of an example as that is.  It took boldness to challenge my expressed fears that a such an effort might fail and that we, as a group, would merely accumulate the collective discards of each other.  It took the bold vision of one man to propose the idea and then organize it.

It took the bold vision of one man to suggest a music concert as a fundraiser and then do the work to organize two of them.  It took one bold woman to suggest three years ago that this church was not doing enough to serve our community and then work with others to expand what we do.  It took the bold vision of one or two to think we could compete for a substantial grant to broaden our outreach to the homeless.  It takes visionaries to suggest new music, to pray new prayers, to organize new projects and to suggest new opportunities for our church space and location.  In here, we value visionaries and those who undertake to carry out evolutionary change.  Our congregation improves and is stronger as a result.

As we renew our Gathering vows this month, to be an inclusive congregation, to be a community that cares for its own and for others, and to be progressive in our faith, we insure our foundation is strong.  On that foundation, we will dream of unknown members yet to join our ranks, of new efforts to serve, and of increasingly meaningful ways to conduct our services.  As progressives, we know that change is inevitable and so we seek positive change that builds upon our past.  We acknowledge our need to grow in numbers.  We will continue to find new ways to tell others about the Gathering.  The Gathering is too special of a place not to be shared.  We envision the possibility of a new church home – not to have new space, but to enable us to further our work. We dream of new projects to serve the homeless and new ways to learn and grow.  For each of us, no matter our state in life, we know this is a place of vitality and action – we move forward, never backward – as we join spiritual progressives everywhere in advancing the universal human condition.

I wish you much peace and even more joy.

 

   

Message 106, Renewing Gathering Vows, Reaching Inward and Outward, 9-9-12

(c) Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to message or see below to read it:

 

Several years ago, back when gas station attendants came out to your car and pumped the gas for you, a Pastor stopped at a station to fill his car up.  After stopping his car, he waited and waited for someone to show up.  His was the only car at the station.  Eventually, a young attendant came out to the car.  The Pastor noted disapprovingly that the attendant  had long, greasy hair, his face was covered with acne, his clothes were dirty and loose fitting and he very haltingly and slowly asked “May I help you sir?”

After being told the grade of gas desired, it took a long time for the attendant to figure out the correct pump to use, how to open the car fuel cover and then actually pump the gas.  The Pastor rolled his eyes as he handed the attendant his credit card.  It then took a very long time for the young man to return and stammer out that they did not take that brand of credit card.  After being given a different card, the attendant again took a long time back in the station office.  He reported back with fear in his eyes that this card also could not be used.  Exasperated, the Pastor sneered sarcastically, asking if they accepted cash.  He handed the young man two twenty dollar bills.  Once again, the attendant took a very long time to return with change and then counted it out slowly.  By this time, the Pastor was fuming.  He angrily snatched the change away, got in his car, screeched his tires to drive away and then backed his car back and forth several times over the sensor hose that rang a “ding-ding” in the station office before speeding off.

A few miles away, the Pastor realized what a jerk he had been to the young man.  He turned around and went back to the station where he apologized to the attendant for his behavior.  The young man slowly and haltingly replied.  “That’s OK, mister.  Everybody treats me that way.”

Like all of you, this story saddens and upsets me.  How many people are treated so poorly because of their perceived appearance, level of intelligence or abilities?  I imagine stories like this happen all the time and even in many churches.

I recall that at a lunch held at my last church for its Pastors, congregation leaders gave us each a personalized thank you card.  This was in appreciation for our work over the past year.  My card from the church leaders, however, came with a biting edge to it.

I was the Pastor in charge of Pastoral Care – the one who saw to the needs of hurting members.  Besides visiting the sick in hospitals and nursing homes, and performing many funeral services, I had several meetings a day with distressed, depressed or somewhat dysfunctional people.  Some of the more frequent members I cared for were perhaps like the young gas station attendant – for whatever reason in need of a listening ear, a kind smile, an encouraging word, a prayer or just a friendly presence.  I became jokingly but derisively known as Pastor to the oddballs.  And the card I was given at that Christmas party thanked me for ministering to all of the “fruits and nuts” in the congregation.  I did the so-called dirty Pastoral work nobody else wanted.

While that card was intended as a joke, its message has stuck with me.  I believe that every person, in some way, might be called a fruit or a nut.  We each have our idiosyncrasies.   As we discussed last week, that is one of the hallmarks of the Gathering as a faith community: we embrace and celebrate everyone for the diversity they add.  But the implicit message I got from that thank you card was that not everyone was worthy of receiving attention, love and respect.  Only the so-called beautiful people or normal appearing people need apply.

I have told many of you that after I left my hospital administration work over twelve years ago, I felt like I finally found my calling in life – to be a Pastor.  It is a role that fulfills me and makes me happy.  I feel enormously blessed to work here at the Gathering.  Everybody should be so lucky to work at what they love doing.

While I am no more special than any of you in my ability to care or not care for others, I know that I do empathize and identify with those on the margins of life.  That’s because I consider myself a bit of an oddball.  I grew up a privileged white boy, but I was usually on the outside of what many consider the “in crowd.”  I was quiet, studious, a non-jock and, frankly, somewhat nerdy.  For most of my adult life, I was a closeted gay man trying to suppress who I am.  I’ve lived my life feeling like I’m not normal.

And that feeling in me led me to my role as a Pastor.  I enjoy doing my part to care for and listen to the supposed misfits in life – those who are, in truth, every living person.  As an avowed misfit myself, I identify with the hurts, feelings, struggles and passions of others.  We each need the company and ministry of friends, family and our faith communities to reach out to us, to tell us we’re special, to encourage us, to listen, to hold our hands when we’re afraid, sick or simply challenged by life.

And that ethic of reaching out to others is one of the vows we each implicitly take when we join the Gathering.  In this September series on renewing our Gathering vows, we discussed last week how we will continue to accept and celebrate everyone and anyone – no matter how different.  And next week we’ll consider how our Progressive spiritual values in faith and actions also inform who we are.

But today, we renew our vow that the Gathering will continue to be a church defined not just by what we believe, but by what we do.  We don’t just say we love others.  We work to actually show it.  We will be a community that cares.  We will be a spiritual community that walks its talk – where every member is involved in some significant way in reaching out.  Indeed, few of us attended here for very long before we felt a desire to give back some of the attention and care we have been shown.  Hopefully, we practice the dual ideals that every member will be cared for, and every member will herself or himself be a caregiver.

Writing in the year 120 CE, the Greek historian Lucian noted about the early Christian community, “It is incredible to see the fervor with which the people of that religion help each other in their wants and needs.  They spare nothing.  Their first legislator (Jesus) put into their heads that they are all brothers and sisters.”  Such attitudes by early Christians is one reason why that faith exploded in popularity and membership – becoming by 300 CE the official religion of the entire Roman Empire.  Early churches met in homes – many of which were communal residences where members lived together.  Meals were cooked and eaten together.  Resources were shared and those in need were assisted and loved.  Unlike the cruel and often indifferent Roman culture, Christians treated one another as beloved family members.

Sadly, many Christian churches and places of worship no longer live up to that model.  Today, a primary reason why people look for a new church is to find one where members truly care for one another.  It disheartens me every time I hear about a church or faith community mistreating or bullying one of its members or even its Pastor – often for petty or heartless reasons.  Witnessing such cruelty, is it any wonder why the unchurched often say they want to have no part of a faith community?

In his Biblical letter to the house churches at Corinth, which he founded, Paul strongly but lovingly challenged its members for their non-Jesus like behaviors.  Many members had segregated themselves into exclusive small groups and ignored new members and those who believed differently.  Some members, for religious reasons, refused to eat food sacrificed to pagan idols.  Those who considered themselves more enlightened scorned such beliefs as misguided.  They openly flaunted eating such food in front of those who were opposed.  Paul did not say they were wrong to believe that all food is ok to eat, but he challenged their lack of empathy, their haughty attitudes and their lack of sensitivity to fellow church members.  Show each other love and understanding he implored.

Others in the Corinthian church claimed to be spiritually superior because they could speak in tongues – an unknown spiritual language.  Those who did not were seen as inferior Christians.  Even worse, church services were chaotic affairs with multiple members all speaking strange words that nobody else could understand.  Extravagant and expensive church meals were also held that essentially excluded those who could not afford such a luxury.

Paul condemned the Corinthian church for being so divided and so uncaring.  That is why he wrote his famous First Corinthians, chapter 13 verses on love.  He wrote:

“What if I could speak all languages of humans and of angels?  If I did not love others, I would be nothing more than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.  What if I could prophesy and understand all secrets and all knowledge?  And what if I had faith that moved mountains?  I would be nothing, unless I loved others.  What if I gave away all that I owned and let myself be burned alive?  I would gain nothing,  unless I loved others.  Love is kind and patient, never jealous, boastful, proud, or rude.  Love isn’t selfish or quick tempered.  It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs that others do.  Love rejoices in the truth, but not in evil.  Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful, and trusting.  Love never fails.”

Implicit in Paul’s words is the notion that a church or person might believe and speak all of kinds of great and wonderful things, but unless they truly ACT with love and care, to each other and to the outside world, they are spiritually WORTHLESS.  They are as good as dead.  Those who claim to be spiritual, who claim to seek the best for humanity, who claim to actually be loving people, they must walk their talk.  Paul’s advice to the Corinthians is beautiful poetry that perfectly expresses the ideals of Jesus.  They capture how Jesus lived his life.  And they express how any faith community and any person, Christian or not, should act.

Caring faith communities are attuned to the needs of fellow members.  It is not just the job of the Pastor or a few volunteers to serve hurting members.  People pastor one another – asking them how they are doing, taking the time getting to know them, inviting them into their lives and their homes, and spending time listening to the hopes, dreams, fears and pain of one another.  Caring people and organizations are unafraid of, and non-judgemental toward, the so-called oddball.  Every person is valued, every person is made to feel loved, every person is a vital part of the whole.  Caring faith communities do not simply say they support social justice.  They actively do the work to build it.

For the Gathering, just as we play an important role as a radically inclusive community – a witness to the wider world of celebration for everyone and anyone, so too are we an important example in how we care.  As a Progressive church, some might assume we are focused more on what we believe than on what we do.  Many major studies on the demographics of giving indicate that people of conservative faith give more and are more likely to be charitable than those who are secular or liberal in faith.  Religiously conservative people, data shows, are more likely to give generously to charity and more likely to volunteer for civic organizations, programs to help the poor, the elderly, and local schools.

One startling analysis shows that of the 10 most generous states in the nation, according to IRS statistics on charitable giving, 8 of them voted Republican in 2008.  Of the ten least charitable states, nine of them voted Democratic.

While these studies do not account for the amount of giving to religious organizations versus giving to non-religious charitable groups, the perception remains that progressives only want to give away other people’s money – not their own.  While this may, in some instances be true, such a stereotype is just as pernicious and wrong as saying all conservatives are greedy and heartless.  We must move beyond such labels and consider the intrinsic values of any faith group or any individual.  The Gathering serves a vital function in proving such stereotypes wrong.  We are a progressive AND a caring faith community.

As members of the Gathering, we each vow to serve in some way the charitable outreach efforts we support.  We vow to live peaceably with one another, to speak with kindness, listen with empathy, check our egos at the door and reach out to someone in here with meaningful friendship, love and concern.  We vow, as we are each able, to give to the work of this place.  We give our trust, our time and our resources to this congregation which is more than a place or a collection of people – it is an idea, an idea!  that deeds of service are important, that every human is worthy of respect, and that showing love to others covers a multitude of imperfections.

This congregation believes in the fundamental calling we as humans must fulfill.  Yes, we may enjoy the delights granted us – of beauty, love, family, friends and good times.  But in our hearts and in our souls is the impulse to give back.  It is the call to love our neighbors as we too wish to be loved.  It is the yearning to serve a higher life purpose than mere self-gain.  It is the kinship we feel for those often on the margins of society – gays and lesbians, racial minorities, immigrants, the poor, the sick, the physically or mentally challenged, the ones without hope.  It is the heart that breaks when we see a hungry or homeless child; it is the tears we weep when a friend suffers; it is the gratitude we feel for the blessings of life.   Such are the values on which the Gathering was founded and will continue to practice.  We exist to serve and to care.

We extend our hands of friendship inward to fellow congregation sisters and brothers.  We offer our serving hands outward to our community.  To this we renew our pledge: Our numbers might be small and our resources might be limited, but our hearts will be as large as our purpose and together we will leave a lasting legacy that this place, this idea called the Gathering, will make a difference.

 

 

Message 105, Renewing Gathering Vows: Everyone and Anyone, 9-2-12

(c) Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering, All Rights Reserved

 

Click here to listen to the message.  See below to read it.  

 

 

During the four centuries just prior to Jesus’ birth, Judaism split into a number of different groups each professing to follow the true religion.  By the time Jesus was born, these interpretations of Jewish faith created a mix such that the different groups separated from and even despised the others.  One such group, the Samaritans, centered their worship around Mount Gerazim in central Israel – where they believed God really lived.  This was not just different practice from what most Jews believed, it was considered total heresy.  God had resided on Mount Moriah – or Jerusalem – for centuries, since the days of King David, and her very embodiment dwelt in the large and ornate Temple built on its summit.

Since the Samaritans centered their worship outside of Jerusalem, they also mixed and intermarried with non-Jewish populations.  Samaritans were seen as impure, false Jews and were even derisively called half-breeds.  To the many other traditional variations of Jews, Samaritans were considered worse than gentiles or non-Jews.  They had abandoned the true faith.   While it seems odd to us who consider a Samaritan to be a good person, to most Jews of Jesus’ day, they were low life scum.

Jesus’ teachings about tolerance toward others who are different are not only remarkable for his time, they have lasting value because they speak to a universal spiritual truth.  His parable of the Good Samaritan is not just a simple message about caring for those who hurt.  It is primarily about inclusion, sensitivity and a strong rebuke to those who adopt superior, arrogant or haughty attitudes towards others who believe or act differently.

It was a Samaritan man who showed compassion and love for a wounded and near dead traveler he found along the side of a road.  A Jewish Priest from the Jerusalem Temple – a Pharisee – had instead walked by the suffering traveler, ignoring him completely.  The Priest was so blinded by his beliefs not to touch anyone who might be ritually unclean, that he became cruel and callous.  An arrogant religious lawyer also from Jerusalem – a Levite –  passed by the traveler and he too ignored the man who was clearly in need of help.  But the Samaritan, this religious lowlife, was the one in Jesus’ story who stopped to help, carried the man to an Inn and paid for his stay so he could recover.  He faced the same issues of ritual uncleanliness as the other Jews but he was the one who practiced the true love of God.  We can only imagine the shock and anger most Jews felt when Jesus told his parable – he was severely condemning their fundamentalist, uncaring and exclusivist attitudes.  A Samaritan may well be a better person than you, he implied.

Later on, Jesus stopped on his travels to drink at a well in the middle of Samaria.  Nearly all Jews of his day would have taken a long detour just to avoid Samaritan lands.  But Jesus was not one to exclude others.  At the well, Jesus spoke at length with a Samaritan woman about her spiritual well-being.  She was finding love in all the wrong places.  Jesus’ willingness to meet, speak to and show concern for a Samaritan woman was scandalous.  Jewish men never spoke to women they did not know and rarely spoke to any women – they were not worthy of a man’s time or alleged intelligence.  And to speak with a Samaritan woman was even more shocking.

By his stories and his actions, Jesus openly defied predominant Jewish standards. He was a religious and spiritual radical who openly defied centuries old traditions as he revolutionized ideals about what compassion and love should be.  His friendship with prostitutes, tax collectors, criminals, women, lepers, the sick, the mentally and physically challenged, working class men and women, the poor and religious outlaws is legendary.  He lived a life of being inclusive to everyone he met – sharing his friendship, his concern and his attention.  As he said, the real heart of the Divine is a source of spiritual love for all people and, most especially, for the marginalized.  Nobody, in his view, should be treated poorly and with disrespect.

But Jesus is not the only prophet to have practiced such ways.  It is told that Muhammad, after debating a group of Christians about theology, offered them use of his mosque in which to pray and worship.  When questioned about this by his followers, Muhammad replied that just because Muslim and Christian traditions and beliefs were different, that did not mean they should not show respect and hospitality to each other.

Gandhi was a lifelong Hindu but he taught that Muslims and Christians should not only be treated well by the majority Hindu population but they should be included and welcomed within the new nation of India.  One of his laments was to see greater India divided into two nations – a Muslim Pakistan and a predominantly Hindu India.  Inclusion of all people and all faiths was not just an ideal to talk about.  It must be practiced.

When this faith community, the Gathering, was founded out of the ashes of religious fundamentalist discrimination toward gays, lesbians and those who supported them, a motto was appended to our name.  We are a “Progressive and Inclusive Church.”  Such a statement, consistent with the actions of Jesus, Muhammad, Gandhi and many others, was intended to identify this faith community as one that will work at the vanguard of full inclusion of everyone and anyone.  In that regard, this will be a radical church.

While our motto was originally intended to express inclusion of gays and lesbians, we have since recognized it extends to all.  Indeed, I like to tell and even shock others that our Progressive Christian congregation enjoys the company of members who are Atheist and Buddhist.  Such people are not just tolerated.  They are fully included and celebrated for the diversity and knowledge they bring.   Indeed, I am a Christian apostate and skeptic myself – considered by some who send angry e-mails – to be guilty of grave sin for speaking heresy and helping to lead all of you astray.

My point in this September series on renewing Gathering vows is to remind us of our ideals in a way that insures they remain strong and vital.   Indeed, it is important for any person or organization to periodically rededicate themselves to living true to their values.  Otherwise, such stated values become stale and forgotten.  For the Gathering to remain relevant to the spirit of its origins, and thus be an alternative faith community, it must continue to be inclusive, as we will discuss today.  Second, and up for consideration next Sunday, it must both meet the needs of its members by reaching inward with care, while it is outwardly focused on serving the community and wider world.  Finally, to be discussed in two weeks, the Gathering must be a Progressive spiritual community not in the political sense but in the marketplace of faith, values and outlook to the future.  We do not rest on tradition and tired dogma.  We embrace progress in ourselves, our practices and our beliefs.  To borrow a motto from a cable TV network, we lean forward in faith and to the future.

It is said that humans often seek to exclude others based on two inherent attitudes.  First, we often see the characteristics and beliefs of others who are different as sinister shadows of ourselves.  In someone who is different, we can discern beliefs or actions that are an inward and unwanted part of ourselves.  For whatever reason, we find such beliefs unacceptable in ourselves and thus unacceptable in others.  We exclude different people from our company so they do not remind us of our shadow selves.  Homophobia is a classic example of this.  Those who hate gays are often hating homosexual tendencies in themselves.

Second, we often exclude others because they challenge our sense of self.  If I lack basic humility, I will assume I am totally correct in my beliefs and anyone who believes or acts differently not only is wrong but is a threat to my sense of superiority, value and being.

What people must do, experts say, is detach their sense of self from their beliefs.  Such detachment does not mean one abandons one’s beliefs.  It merely unties them from a sense of smug superiority.  Too often, we tend to become an embodiment of our beliefs – inhabiting them so strongly that if we or anyone else questions them, we risk losing our self-identity.  But our identity has more to do with how we lead our lives as opposed to what we believe.  That was the problem with the Jews of Jesus’ day – they believed more in their religion than they did in acting out the principles of that faith – to show the love of God.   Individual identity, therefore, must not be tied to the fact that we are a Christian, Democrat, Progressive, Jew, Tea Party member, American or any other belief based group.  Do we treat ourselves and others with humility, decency, love and respect?  That must be the basis for our identity.

Indeed, humanity has moved toward increasingly complex social orders as a way to improve life for everyone and thus love others.  This is moral imagination at work.  Through mutual cooperation, humanity has moved from small clans where the known world comprised twenty people or less, to tribes of a few hundred, to villages and cities of thousands, to nation-states of millions and now, currently, toward a global community of billions.  At each stage of social evolution, individuals and groups learned new ways to cooperate, care for one another, and include increasingly greater numbers of people within their common identity.

Currently, humanity is at another historic threshold.  We are moving to even greater inclusivity, acceptance and tolerance of the other based less on national, ethnic or religious beliefs than on universal human values of decency, respect and equality.  We are moving to a new era of global human identity that embraces the values of Jesus, Muhammad and Gandhi – we are learning to treat everyone, no matter how different they are, with greater respect.  National, ethnic and small group identity walls are slowly but surely breaking down as humanity evolves toward a global social awareness.  Humanity is only at the beginning of this trend and it will take hundreds of years to complete.  But technology and moral imagination are moving us to the next social frontier of ONE human family.

And the Gathering plays a vital role in this process.  Indeed, we have positioned ourselves at the leading edge of this trend.  Like Jesus nearly two-thousand years ago, we are spiritual rebels.  We defy traditional religious practice and do not limit inclusion into our midst only to those who think and believe as we do.  Indeed, that would be impossible since we are so diverse in our beliefs.  To echo a statement of the Burning Man group – one that holds annual celebrations of social inclusion – the Gathering believes in radical inclusion.  We welcome all strangers to our midst.  We have no prerequisites or standards of belief or practice necessary for inclusion as members in the Gathering, other than one’s acceptance of us.  No matter what one believes, he or she is welcome here as long as they adopt a similar respectful and inclusive attitude.  We do not measure or value one’s worth.  Everyone and anyone is valuable.

As a radically inclusive congregation, we are known by our respect for each other.  Everyone has equal access to resources and events.  We actively work to eliminate all forms of discrimination in here and in the world.  We engage all members in the decision making that affects the congregation.  We value diversity.  We respond quickly and with love to any sign of discrimination, hateful language or exclusion in our midst.

Inclusivity also extends beyond our willingness to welcome all others.  Our language and our speech are also radically inclusive.  We choose to refer to the Divine not just by gender neutral words but with pronouns and names that are gender affirming.  God is not just Father.  She is also mother.  In here, she can be entirely feminine – a force who might even appear female.  So too might Jesus be figuratively gay, black or a female.  He certainly lived a life that identified with such groups.  The god force we believe in is at its very essence an inclusive force for good.

Importantly, our spiritual inclusion also allows that the divine may not be a theistic being, but a force of nature or of love.  Indeed, God may not exist for some of us and the Gathering will not insist that she does.  Such openness invites accusations that we believe in everything and thus nothing.  That argument is a fallacy.  We do not just believe in radical inclusion.  It is simply who we are.  And that concept applies to our expression of God.  The god of your understanding is welcome and celebrated here.

Along with our inclusive spiritual language, we will try to speak the same toward created beings.  Humanity may dwell at the apex of power in the universe, but it is not at the apex of significance.  We are but one of a million different species in the wide and varied realm of creation.  However each person expresses appreciation for other created beings, we will be inclusive.  Vegan, vegetarian, omnivore, carnivore, animal rights activist or one who simply loves nature and animals – all are welcome.  We may not each agree in our beliefs on such matters, but we respect those of others while maintaining enough humility to acknowledge we may not individually  have all the answers.

And that will remain a primary part of our identity and a challenge for our future.  How can we walk our talk to be inclusive?  The very foundation of inclusion is a humble attitude.  We do not presume to be anointed ones with superior beliefs.  Indeed, we might all be very wrong.  This is not meek self doubt.  It is a strong and confident assertion that at the Gathering we are all still learning and nobody has access to absolute truth on any matter.

This admission of ours, that we might be wrong, is key.  We continue to search for what is true and good in the world while refusing to arrive at conclusive answers.  We value exploration and asking questions over steadfast dogma and doctrine.  If there is a God or god force that animates and controls the universe, who are we as flawed humans to presume we know absolute Truth?  Many will say God revealed herself to humanity in Scripture and thus we can know such Truth.  But equal to one group’s assertion that their revealed Scripture is true, is another group’s Scripture, or lack of Scripture, with the same claim.  Who is right and who is wrong?  We believe there are many pathways to God or Truth and all paths are respected in here.

On all matters, as members of this congregation and as individuals living and working in the outside world, our call is not to abandon our beliefs but to express them with humility, to acknowledge the possibility of error, to respect the beliefs of others and to be people of peace.  We yearn in all things – politics, lifestyles, and faith – to unite and never divide.  We have this beautiful idea, this place we call the Gathering, to help us practice this ideal of humility which is the foundation of being inclusive.  In here, we are each friends and people who support and celebrate one another no matter our differences.

My friends, I ask us each to imagine in our minds what heaven on earth might look like.  In such a vision, the Gathering can and will serve as an imperfect but beautiful model for an inclusive heaven on earth.  Such a place will be one of peace, empathy and celebration.  The well-off will serve and dine with the struggling, the drag queen will dance with the straight man, the women will speak loud and clear, the men will practice humility and sensitivity, the challenged will teach the capable, the strong will walk with the weak, the lonely and hurting will find a place of rest, the ones burdened with guilt or shame will find approval, and every member, every person will dedicate themselves to look outside these windows and serve a hurting world.  May we renew our vow to continue building such a wondrous vision open and welcoming to everyone and anyone.

 

 

Message 104, Poetry to a Spiritual Theme: Rumi and Finding Our Inner Spirit, 8-19-12

(c) Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

 

Click here to listen to message or see below to read:

 

Several years ago a woman named Pam Reynolds was diagnosed with a very large arterial aneurysm in her brain.  Normally, such a condition is terminal and doctors can only prescribe limited drug treatment.  The patient must simply wait for the inevitable time when the aneurysm will burst and he or she will internally bleed to death.

In this case, however, Pam was referred to a pioneering neurosurgeon who attempts to surgically remove such arterial aneurysms of the brain by essentially killing the patient.  In an operating room, the patient’s body is chilled to 60 degrees, the heart is stopped, blood is drained from the body and all brain activity stops.  For all intents and purposes, the patient is clinically dead.  Then, the surgeons cut into the cerebral artery and remove the aneurysm.  The person is slowly warmed and the heart is hopefully restarted.  There is great risk in the process and not all patients can be revived.

In Pam’s case, all went well.  She was effectively dead for approximately two hours but she was revived after the successful procedure.  What is remarkable, however, is that afterwards she recounted all of the circumstances that took place during the time she was clinically dead.  She described in layman’s terms what the surgeons did, the instruments they used and even recounted, nearly verbatim, the comments made by nurses during her surgery.  She relates that she essentially hovered over her body and looked down as the doctors and nurses worked on her.

Pam’s experience is not unique.  Similar experiences have been described by many other people.  For a person to have some form of consciousness without a heartbeat or brainwaves seems impossible.   As yet, this has NOT been medically or scientifically explained.  Skeptics argue that patients describe what they imagine a procedure to have been like and that details come from hearing things after they have been revived.  In most instances, however, such explanations are not possible.  Doctors and neuroscientists are left without any firm conclusion on how these near death observations take place.

My purpose is not to consider the question of life after death but, instead, to dive into the spiritual idea of having a dual reality – however this might be explained – of a physical body and an inner spirit existence.  Do we each have an inner spirit?  How might be find it?  And, if we do, what is its value to us?

As someone who believes in the ability of the human mind to understand and ultimately explain most things, this subject is difficult for me to fully appreciate.  I lean far more toward the rational and shy away from matters of the apparently supernatural.

I greatly admire, for instance, the seventeenth century philosopher Rene Descartes who coined the phrase, “Je pense, donc je suis”, “Cogito ergo sum” or, in English, “I think, therefore I am.”  In his book Discourse on Method, Descartes revolutionized Western thought.  His proposition said that all things – including creation and life itself, can be proven by reason and science ALONE.  The realm of the supernatural has no role in fact finding.  Naturally, the Church was aghast at Descartes and his implicit rejection of God and the supernatural.

Indeed, the consequences of Descartes’ proposition have been the gradual elevation of science to a near religion.  Science, as this thinking goes, has the ability to explain everything and we must turn to it for answers about any matter.  Most Western thinking and philosophy has thus determined that God is dead and that there can be nothing that is outside what can be rationally explained.

The result for many people, especially those of us of Progressive faith, is that we are left adrift and alone without the opportunity for mystery, myth, intuition and an inner spirit to offer any insight.  There are, however, many scientists, theologians and philosophers who are pushing us beyond the age of pure science into a post-modern world where rational thinking and some form of spirituality exist side by side.  Stephen Jay Gould, a well-known physicist and cosmologist, has proposed a truce between science and faith, saying that science looks into the realm of empirical fact and explanation while spirituality explores the realm of meaning, morality and values.  Other physicists and scientists have proposed that meaning and morality DO exist within science and are not separate from it.

A recent paper out of Cambridge University indicates that from the moment life first began, it was inevitable that intelligent life – like humanity – would evolve.  This would indicate that we are not random creatures but there was and is a purposeful meaning, whatever its source, to be found in evolution and science.

A neuroscientist out of the University of Pennsylvania has shown that the brain waves of meditating monks and praying Franciscan nuns are nearly identical.  While this doctor can explain the science behind brain waves, he cannot explain why they are almost identical in these two groups.  There is something universal, perhaps an inner spirit, that animates spiritual emotion, thought and feeling.

Philosophers and writers like Karen Armstrong have argued that western rational thinking, by itself, is a dead end street.  It is incomplete, determinist and a dogmatic form of belief itself.  Rationalism denies the experiential reality that myth, mystery, faith, spirituality, and intuition have played in human history.  No matter where such beliefs and practices come from – God or human imagination – such feelings, practices and rituals are real and they shape our behavior and understanding of the world.  They have provided meaning to billions of people since humans first evolved.  To reject spiritual mythos, as Anderson calls it, is to reject the truth of ourselves, our traditions and our history.  Existence and the universe are far more complex than reducing them to just one way of understanding them – through science.  Myth, mystery and our inner spirits add vital nuance and truth to our ultimate reality.

What this means for me and for us here at the Gathering is, I hope, what I often propose.  Between the two seemingly opposite poles of scientific rational thinking on the one side, and a total belief in God or the supernatural realm on the other side, there is a gray area somewhere in between.  Truth is rarely at the extremes.  It is always found in the messy and confusing middle.  In this instance, science and the spiritual realm – the stuff of meaning and morality – they merge at some point.

As someone who leans strongly towards the rational, I must push myself towards the spiritual realm of the unexplainable if I hope to find greater insight.  I must search for and continually find that inner spirit within me that feels, hurts, loves and exists apart from my rational mind and physical being.

As I said, this is difficult stuff for me – to dive into the core of my essence and find the inner soul.  That is the place, for instance, that loves my daughters unconditionally and without reason.  They could do a thousand things to hurt me and it would not matter.  I don’t how that emotion happened – that I can love them and could die for them no matter what.  This is also an inner place that cries for no reason at hurts I see around me, the place that dreams and yearns for good things and bad.

Others describe this inner spirit as existence outside the body – a sense of being that does not think but merely is; a sense of being that feels, emotes, perceives and drifts.  As quickly as I struggle to define this spirit essence, I fail because it is beyond words and beyond rational explanation.  In truth, we can only experience it and perceive its reality.

Read with me now two poems by the Islamic Sufi mystic Rumi that offer some insight and encouragement to find our inner spirits.

Light Breeze 

As regards feeling pain, like a hand cut in battle,

consider the body a robe you wear. 

When you meet someone you love,

do you kiss their clothes? 

Search out who’s inside. 

Union with God is sweeter than body comforts.

We have hands and feet different from these. 

Sometimes in dream we see them.

That is not illusion.  It’s seeing truly.  You do have a spirit body.

Don’t dread leaving the physical one. 

Sometimes someone feels this truth so strongly

that he or she can live in mountain solitude totally refreshed. 

The worried, heroic doings of men and women

seem weary and futile

to dervishes enjoying the light breeze of spirit.

 

          The Spirit Self

Late, by myself, in the boat of myself,

no light and no land anywhere,

cloud cover thick. I try to stay

just above the surface,

yet I’m already under

and living with the ocean.

 

What I find interesting about these poems from Rumi are their call to live a more transcendent life – to plunge into the deep waters of oneself and find the god force or whatever it is that animates one’s inner spirit of love, compassion and feeling.  As Rumi writes, when we do so, we go inward – away from memory and intellect – and into our mystery selves.

Some have likened this process as similar to watching a sunrise or sunset.  Just before the sun finally sets or finally rises, there is a pause – a moment of transition that is neither night nor day.  The sun is there and yet it is not.

When I visit my parents in California, I often enjoy going to some rock formations just above the ocean to watch the sun set.  At the transition point when the sun just sets, a rare phenomenon sometimes happens.  At the split second when the sun seemingly descends into the ocean, a green flash of light will occasionally appear.  This can happen anywhere in the world and is the result of sunlight shining through the upper edge of ocean water at the horizon. It is a brilliant but momentary display that quickly fills the sky and then is gone.

Despite knowing the science behind the flash, I have felt in the very few times I’ve seen this, something wonderful and uncommon.  I remember one time likening it to seeing the face of God.  As Rumi implied, many people in mountain solitudes or witnessing sunsets find transcendent moments of not only great beauty but a mysterious inner peace.  One feels the sacred power of the universe, the life giving light and force that made us and sustains us.

Others suggest finding the inner spirit simply by letting go of thoughts and awareness of physical sensations.  Finding a totally dark and quiet room will often help.  And for me, that is what works best besides moments of seeing beauty in nature.  In bed and in the dark of night, I sometimes find small glimpses of my inner spirit.  The house is still, all is black and if I lie motionless, I can cross a threshold from hearing my heartbeat and the sound of my breathing into a state of great peace.  I perceive things more clearly – who I am, my role in life, the wonder of existence.

I find in such elusive moments a time without worry or fear.  It’s just me, and all is good.  I used to believe that these moments were when God revealed himself or herself to me – when I could somehow touch eternity.

A cancer survivor talks of once seeing a mass of thousands of monarch butterflies overhead.  As she watched them, and thinking to herself they were migrating on their annual pilgrimage to warmer climates, the butterfly mass appeared to form a large face – undulating, colorful, smiling and floating across the sky.  In that moment, the sun broke through the clouds and bathed the butterflies in halo beams of light.  Such a time was, for her, almost an out of body experience – one where she felt totally at peace and in the presence of a god force.  That source of all love was assuring her spirit that she would be OK.  Over a year later, she was told she is in remission from her cancer and she is convinced that resulted from her spiritual communion with a love beyond explanation.

Reinhold Niebuhr, the great progressive theologian, once said that when he sought to get in touch with his spirit, he went to a quiet place and then contemplated the meaning of infinity.  He would ponder the idea that when you subtract a million million from infinity, you still have infinity.  He said that as his mind exhausted of trying to grasp that unreachable idea, he gave in to its power and thus found the unfindable.  Like walking to the edge of a steep cliff and then jumping off, such an experience for him was one of surrender to the fall and then finding he was not falling at all.  In his progressive Christian beliefs, this was finding the trust and love of God.

One poor soul is said to have once asked Louis Armstrong to describe jazz.  His reply was, “Man, if you gotta ask, you’ll never know!”  And that applies to the mystery of our spirit selves.  You can only know it. For each person, it is a different doorway to enter and a different reality to feel.  Ultimately, one must simply drop one’s rational thinking and self-awareness. Like Rumi describes in his poetry, one submerges into a figurative ocean and dreams of a body wholly apart and disconnected to the physical.

For us, the question is why we should seek our inner spirit.  Is this not a form of self-absorption and effort to remove oneself from the reality of life and all that we are called to give and do?  If we find our inner spirits, even on rare occasions, might we find a greater peace?  For me, such rare times are often the only moments when I feel totally free of worry – when I don’t think about my health, my work, my finances or other concerns.  Indeed, far from being a journey into self-focused thinking, finding the inner spirit can be a way to tap into the powerful forces that govern the universe – forces like love, altruism, intuition, empathy, generosity, compassion, justice and freedom.

Paul, in the Biblical book of Galatians, wrote that if we talk about being spiritual people, then we must walk and act as if we are spiritual people.  We must walk our talk.  And this must  especially be true of us at the Gathering.  If we claim a spirituality of understanding, love, tolerance and celebration for all people and all creation, then we must act out those ideals in our daily lives.  We must not just talk in the spirit, we must live in the spirit.

To do so, we cannot only think and rationalize our way through life.  Such an approach is incomplete, as I am increasingly discovering.  We must sometimes spiritually feel our path through life – going in directions that are led by our inner spirits.  We must find the core of our essential selves that cries and laughs and feels and simply is a force of love and goodness.  I can’t tell you exactly how to get there – to your inner spirit.  I struggle to find the way myself.  Your journey is one for you to discover.  Let go of body and mind.  Embrace myth, mystery, the unknown and the ethereal.  As Rumi wrote in his poems we read, don’t be afraid of your inner spirit.  Don’t presume to say you do not have one.  Whether or not it is from a supernatural phenomena or a rationally explainable force of nature, that does not matter.  Your spirit exists, it has value and it waits for you to find it, dwell within and then go forth in a great burst of goodness to the wider world.  I wish all of us a bon voyage on that quest…

Message 103, “Poetry to a Spiritual Theme: Joy in the Morning”, 8-12-12

© Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to the message or see below to read it:

 

Why do evil and suffering exist in our world?  Why, for instance, do young children regularly get sick, suffer through long illnesses and then die?  Why are there tremendously destructive natural forces at work in our universe which spawn death and sorrow – earthquakes that kill and maim, tidal waves that drown and obliterate, cancers and other diseases that cause suffering?

As Epicurus, the famous ancient Greek philosopher noted, if there is a God who is unable to prevent such evils, then that being is not all powerful.  If there is a God who is unwilling to prevent such evils, then that being is cruel and malicious.  If there is a God who is able and willing to prevent evil, then why does evil exist?  As a final proposition, according to Epicurus’ reasoning, if there is a God who is both unable AND unwilling to prevent evil, then why is that being called “God”?

We are thus faced, as Epicurus and all humanity has confronted, with the problem of evil and suffering.  This is not a problem with the fact of its existence.  We experience the reality of suffering from the moment of birth. The problem is in how we reconcile evil’s observable reality with notions that this ought to be a just, perfect and loving universe – controlled by a loving God or other force for good.

But my concern today is not in a theological or philosophical discussion on why the god force of our personal understanding does not eliminate suffering.  It is, instead, with how humanity in general – and then each person specifically – comes to terms with the truth of evil and suffering.  In keeping with this month’s theme, we will use spiritual poetry – today, the Psalms of the Bible – to hopefully find insight.

Unless we are pathologically unstable without empathy for others, each of us yearns to not only be good, but to help create and then live within a good universe.  Nevertheless, we confront evil inclinations in ourselves as well as in our world.  We see people inflict horrible suffering on themselves and on fellow humans and creatures.  We witness natural forces wreak random havoc, death and disease.  We understand that all living beings die but also, often, suffer in that process.

Just as much as we acknowledge the reality of evil and suffering, so do we also experience moments of pure transcendence.  There are great forces for good in the universe.  If we open our hearts and souls, we are often profoundly moved by sensing forces beyond our understanding – forces of goodness, love, peace and well-being.  Such forces move people to acts of great compassion, selflessness, and heroism.  Gazing out on the natural realm, we are also struck by the sheer beauty and inherent goodness of creation – the immense eternity of our cosmos, the inner workings of living beings, the wonder and joy of life itself, and the mere fact that we breathe, think and function.  Whatever it is that animates existence, we are in awe of that breathtaking power.  Evil exists but we know that the essence of the universe, and all life, is good and loving.

Such dual realities – the existence of evil and the truth of goodness – give us pause.  Therein lies the source of our discomfort.  Spiritually speaking, how do we reconcile the existence of evil in a good universe?  What is our response?  Do we retreat in fear, sadness, anger, and doubt?  Do we block out the bad through destructive behavior or attitudes?  Or might a spiritual response be to accept both, acknowledge the existence of evil and suffering but find in the persistent and yearning good of humanity a cause for celebration?  Instead of seeing the existence of evil as something incongruent to how we believe things should be, and then despair, might we instead find joy in the reality of good despite evil?  When love can exist despite hate, when compassion exists alongside indifference, when the wonder of creation and the richness of life exist despite disease and death, is that not reason for joy?

Whether one is Jewish, Christian or a skeptic, the Biblical Psalms have endured as deeply meaningful poetry because they speak to the universal questions about the problem of evil in our world.  How do we make sense of a universe where evil exists alongside love and truth?

Throughout the 150 Psalms, there are three distinct voices of poetic expression found in them: praise at the goodness of life and creation; bewilderment and hurt at the dissonant reality of evil; and finally joy at the understanding that despite suffering, life is still good.

In the first type of Psalm, much like people have always done, the Psalmists revel in the beauty and delights of creation.  Whatever it is that created us – God, natural selection, or other unseen forces – that power is good and worthy of praise.  Such words are exemplified in Psalms like the following:

From Psalm 8, verses 1-8

You have set your glory

   in the heavens.

Through the praise of children and infants,

   you have established a stronghold against your enemies,

   to silence the foe and the avenger.

When I consider your heavens,

   the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars,

   which you have set in place,

what is mankind that you are mindful of them,

   human beings that you care for them?

Lord, our Lord,

   how majestic is your name in all the earth!

 

This creation or wisdom Psalm – and others like it – reflect human words of hope, promise and awe.  While Jews of that era and believers today read in such a poem words of praise to a creator God, even the skeptic might see it as expression of delight in a complex and wondrous universe.  While we now have far greater understanding of the cosmos and the forces that dictate its function, we are still spellbound by its intricate beauty and vast expanse.  Much like the Psalmist points out in Psalm 8, who and what are humans compared to the infinite wonder of galaxies, solar systems and an ever expanding universe?  Implicit in such words are the wonder and awe of how small we are within the created order.  Similar Psalms point out the beauty of the natural world, of mountains, animals and desert landscapes that speak of a powerful creator God or creative force.

When we ponder such reality, when we gaze upon endless forests, soaring mountains or teeming wildlife, who cannot help but be inspired?  From the smallest of essential building blocks to life, to the miracle of any creature’s birth, we are amazed and in praise of all created glory.  As the Psalmist wrote, all life and all creation figuratively shout in praise at the majesty of God – a force we know by many names.

The second type of Psalm gives voice to the confusion and even anger at the reality of pain and evil in a supposedly beautiful world.  Such sentiments are expressed in Psalms like the following:

 

From Psalm 102, verses 1-11

Hear my prayer, Lord;

   let my cry for help come to you.

Do not hide your face from me

   when I am in distress.

Turn your ear to me;

   when I call, answer me quickly.

 For my days vanish like smoke;

   my bones burn like glowing embers.

 My heart is blighted and withered like grass;

   I forget to eat my food.

 In my distress I groan aloud

   and am reduced to skin and bones.

 I am like a desert owl,

   like an owl among the ruins.

 I lie awake; I have become

   like a bird alone on a roof.

 All day long my enemies taunt me;

   those who rail against me use my name as a curse.

 For I eat ashes as my food

   and mingle my drink with tears

 because of your great wrath,

   for you have taken me up and thrown me aside.

 My days are like the evening shadow;

   I wither away like grass.

 

I recall that when my oldest daughter Sara was about a year in age, her mom set her in front of a large mirror.  She was in awe.  Most children have similar reactions at the first such experience.  Sara stared in wonder at this person looking back at her.  She reached out to touch the other, she twisted her arms in wonder that her reflection mimicked her.  She was delighted in the attraction, miracle and fun of this other life form.  She echoed the sentiments of the creation or first type of Psalm.

A few days later, Sara fell off of one of her riding toys and scraped herself up in a bad way.    She was bloody and sore and she wailed in pain at the hurt – pouting her little lips in seeming disgust at a cruel world.  I happened to take pictures of both reactions – memorializing her wonder at an image of creation, contrasted with her cry – the universal cry – at the pain life also brings.

Her realizations mirror our own unease and dis-ease.  After our awe at the reality of a beautifully complex universe and mysterious creative force, we very quickly understand that our world is full of hurt and evil.  Others seek to harm us, death stalks us from behind every corner, suffering is a real and present reality.  Where, oh where, is God or other forces of good in our universe to prevent such evil?  Why, oh why, must such evil exist?  Expressions like these are found in the Psalm we just read and others like it.

David is supposed to have written many such Psalms – ones of lament, sorrow and confusion at the strength of his enemies, the shame of his own errors, and the sharp pains of life.  Indeed, he often cried out like Job does to God – a God who seemed to hide his or her face in the midst of great suffering.

In times of our distress, we ask how such evil can exist.  Where is the good in our world?  Where is God and why does she allow such hurt?  We cry out, much like Jesus is said to have done on the Cross, why God, why have you forsaken me?

When our suffering endures or when death itself knocks at our door or at the doorway of a loved one, we seek answers.  We submerge ourselves in fear, depression, anger or destructive behaviors – all as ways to cope with the reality of suffering.  These expressions, while harmful if they last too long, are normal human responses to pain.  Indeed, the Bible implicitly understands such expressions.  They indicate the struggle of our minds to make sense of God and the universe.  Ultimately, they are expressions of faith in the reality of goodness.  If we had no faith in healing, compassion, generosity, love and mercy, we would not cry out in their absence.

Such words of distress and confusion are found throughout the Psalms.  They speak to a spiritual search for truth and to the problem of evil.  The Bible has not ignored or censored such expressions but, instead, uses them as ways to inspire and strengthen all people who can relate to the reality of pain.   Expressions of lament and protest at a cruel world lead us to a dawning understanding of life, suffering and ultimate joy.

At such an epiphany, we find final resolution to our questions and the dissonant reality of suffering.  Evil exists in a world of great beauty.  It will darken any day.  It will haunt every night.  But, despite that reality, God is still good and love remains a constant truth.  Such a view is expressed in the third and final type of Psalm, ones of joy, examples of which read as follows:

 

from Psalm 30, verses 5-7, 11-12

Sing the praises of the Lord, you his faithful people;

   praise his holy name.

For his anger lasts only a moment,

   but his favor lasts a lifetime;

weeping may stay for the night,

   but rejoicing comes in the morning.

You turned my wailing into dancing;

   you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.

   Lord my God, I will praise you forever.

 

And finally, from Psalm 35 verses 9-11:

Then my soul will rejoice in the Lord

   and delight in his salvation.

My whole being will exclaim,

   “Who is like you, Lord?

You rescue the poor from those too strong for them,

   the poor and needy from those who rob them.”

 

Our souls cannot help but shout with joy when we understand the enduring truth of beauty and goodness in our world.  Numerous Psalms express these emotions.  At his own epiphany about suffering, David exults in the ultimate goodness of his God.  He wants to sing God’s praise forever.  In the story of his crucifixion, Jesus shouted in victory, just before his death, that his life’s work was finished.  Job claimed joy in the assurance and realization that God had never abandoned him.  We too, no matter our beliefs, can claim in our moments of solace, in the peace we find through meditation, in the love that surrounds us and reaches out to touch us, in acts of justice that have advanced the cause of equality throughout history – we too can claim victory and joy at the persistence of goodness in our universe and in our lives.

My friends, much as we looked at last Sunday two Japanese poems that point us to live in the eternity and peace of the present – to let go of the past, not worry about the future but exult in the sights, sounds, smells and pleasures of the here and now, so too do we find in the Biblical Psalms insights on how we might find resolution to our never ending search for lasting joy.

That comes not just with a focus on the wonders of life.  Nor is it absent in our suffering.  It is found, according to the Psalms, in a new understanding that no matter the hate, hurt, death and destruction we witness in our world, God is not absent, goodness is also a reality, the cause of justice marches onward, new life still springs up all around us, hope is not lost, life remains a glorious experience.  When we fully understand this fact, when we deeply feel that no matter what life throws at us, that good is not dead, we inwardly celebrate.  We find anew the joy that seemed to die when suffering came upon us.  We gain a new wisdom – one that accepts the truth of suffering while celebrating all of the wonder we see around us.

Such is a primary reason all of us are here today and why we continue to come back to this place.  Pain may exist outside these doors, but in here there are deep friendships, in here are some keys to happiness, in here we make commitments to help heal a broken world, in here are found moments of goodness.  Like the Psalmist noted in the last two passages we read, we may weep at night, but we rejoice in the morning.  From the ashes of our personal despair, in here blooms hope and wisdom.  The poor, needy and lame remind us of an imperfect world, but our purpose and our hearts direct us to make it better.  Even though hate and intolerance exist, we choose to be a force of love and acceptance to any and all people.

When I visited John Curley in the hospital last Monday, two weeks after a surgery that did not go well and after several days in the intensive care unit, John choked up – with tears in his eyes – as he looked to the window mantle filled with cards of love from many of you…..filled with beautiful flowers from our congregation and others in his life.   With his partner Ed at his side, John knew in that moment the joy and wonder and awe of genuine goodness.  Pain had visited his room but so too, in a strong and loud voice, had compassion and hope.  Life, it seems, remains a…very… very… beautiful… thing.

I wish each and every one of you much peace and even more joy.

 

Message 102, “Poetry to a Spiritual Theme: Seize this Summer Day”, 8-5-12

(c) Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to the message or see below to read it.

Just after the end of World War Two, a young soldier and his commanding officer get on a train together.  The only available seats were in a small compartment across from a beautiful young woman and her grandmother.

As the train began its journey, the young soldier and young woman exchanged sly glances.  They smiled shyly at one another and then would look away.  It soon became clear, however, that they found each other very attractive.

After a while, the train entered a long and dark tunnel.  The compartment was plunged into pitch blackness.  Almost immediately came the sound of a loud kiss – a “smack” – followed quickly by the even louder sound of a slap – “whack”.

The grandmother was horrified and thought to herself, “I can’t believe the young soldier kissed my granddaughter and I’m glad she gave him the slap he deserved!”

The young girl was inwardly happy.  She thought to herself, “I’m glad he kissed me but I wish my grandmother had not slapped him.”

The commanding officer had a bemused but startled look.  He thought, “I don’t blame the boy for kissing the girl, but I wish she hadn’t missed his face and hit me instead.”

As the train emerged from the tunnel into bright sunlight, the young soldier could barely suppress a broad grin.  He had just seized the opportunity to kiss a beautiful girl, slap his commanding officer and get away with both!

Such a story captures the kind of “seize the moment” attitude many of us wish we had.  How many of us have been presented with a golden opportunity to revel in the delights of life but have been too timid or fearful to act?  Indeed, we are often envious of those who find the thrill in life and who seize countless opportunities to find and then experience happiness.

What holds some of us back from living life with such an attitude?  Why do we allow worry, fear, anger or doubt to creep into how we think and thus how we experience life?  If our goal is to be fulfilled in this one journey of years we’ve been given – to find contentment in who we are and to build a legacy of helping others – can we say “yes” to joy, laughter and compassion, and “no” to the things that defeat and hold us back?

For me, summer is the symbolic season that reminds one to grab a hold of all that life offers.  Summer is the fulfillment of a hopeful spring.  It is the so-called salad days of warmth, expansive opportunity, and joie-de-vivre.  To make the most of summer is, for me, to make the most of all that is good in life.  Gone are thoughts of winter despair or a chilling fall.  Everything around me is alive and vibrant and in full maturity.  If I seize a summer day, I believe I seize life itself and find in it all that gives pleasure and meaning.  And that is an attitude I want to have each and every day I live…

Let’s read two short Japanese shinto poems that speak to a spirituality of finding joy, living in the moment and saying “yes” to life.

The Ink Dark Moon                                                    The Song

by Izumi Shikibu, ca. 1000 CE                                   by Issa, 1763-1827

 

Although the wind                                                     On a branch

blows terribly here,                                                    floating downriver

the moonlight also leaks                                         a cricket, singing

between the roof planks

of this ruined house.

 

          These spare poems highlight Japanese style and culture.  Much like Japanese art and architecture, they draw the mind into introspection such that ideas and interpretations are subtle and nuanced.  In their seeming simplicity, Japanese poems are highly complex in structure and symbolism.  They paradoxically speak volumes while using the fewest words possible.   Typically, Japanese poems employ images from nature to address universal human themes of life and death while emphasizing the inherent beauty and joy of life.

We need not be reminded that our lives are difficult and that struggle defines many of our years.  The human condition is certainly not one of perpetual paradise and that fact daily confronts us with how we might live and react.  We struggle in our minds and in our souls to open our difficult lives to moonbeams of contentment – or to songs of joy in the midst of river streams that threaten to overwhelm and drown.

What Issa and Shikibu eloquently convey is our human yearning to overcome the struggles of life, to transcend them not by mere force of will but by recognizing, embracing and saying “yes” to life itself.  Indeed, it might be said that all we really possess in this world is our own life – the experience of living – and how we choose to care for this one fragile possession – that defines who we are and what we might become.

What this boils down to is the great question we are asked to answer in life: do we figuratively seize the day, carpe diem, or do we say “no” – refusing to bask in moonbeams because of doubt, fear, worry and timidity?

Spiritually speaking, saying “yes” to peace and joy in the moment is the goal of almost any world religion.  It is, in essence, to find the peace that passes all understanding – peace in who we are, peace in our circumstances, peace in how we live.  It is the Buddhist effort to find nirvana and rest in perfect balance, it is the Christian desire to find solace in the promise of a better existence, it is the Jewish and Muslim life of duty, obligation and purpose to a higher God, it is the humanist’s design to dwell in unity with all creation. Such are all the common “yeses” of world religions.

In that regard, Issa’s cricket might be a symbolic figure found in any faith – singing joyfully that this life is not all there is, singing peacefully content despite what life brings, living obediently to a god controlling its destiny or drifting in union with water, air and nature.

Jesus implored his followers not to worry about tomorrow and to live in the present – tomorrow will take care of its own troubles, he said.  He also employed images from nature to encourage a contented human mindset.  The lilies of the field bloom in glory and abundance just for a day, he pointed out, knowing that tomorrow they will wither and die.  They have seized their day.  The birds of the air do not store and save but live in the abundance of the here and now.  “Can all of your worries,” he said, “add one moment to your life?”

King David, in Jewish mythology, is described as returning from victorious battle and exulting in the moment by literally stripping down to his tunic – his underwear – and dancing through the streets.  This decidedly non-royal behavior was ridiculed by a few but implicitly sanctioned by his God of celebration.  Like the young soldier in my opening story, David chose to revel in the sheer joy of his moment – a Biblical story used for approval of the exultant life.

And we find in the Islamic tradition the quest for salam – for peace through submission to Allah.  He will prosper his followers with paradise and usher in a realm of eternal contentment.  Most importantly, life is to be one of devotion and obedience thus experiencing the elusive salam – and thus allowing Allah’s moonbeams to leak through the cracks of troubled lives.

Like the Japanese poets and world religions, other writers, philosophers and comics have all pointed to the carpe diem ideal.  Mother Theresa said, “Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”  Erma Bombek wryly noted, “Seize the moment.  Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.”  And in his haunting novel, For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway wrote, “Oh, now, now, now, the only now, and above all now, and there is no other now but thou now and now is thy prophet.  Now and forever now.  Yes now.  Always now.  And not why, not ever why, only this now and always, please always, now.”   What Hemingway beautifully conveyed was his own fictional soldier seizing life in the moment – refusing to consider that life is oh so fragile and could be snuffed out in the horrors of World War One carnage.  For that soldier, to live in peace, it must only be “now.”  So it must be for us.

What we note is an encouragement to adopt a mindset of Presence – which is the title of a book many of us read as a part of our Book Club several years ago.  Such a philosophy captures much of what we believe to be spiritual ethics – like empathy, forgiveness, trust and love.

If we live life with a desire to “BE” – to seek being rather than doing – we find empathy with and for others comes easily.  Listening and understanding another person in the moment of now is our goal.  Indeed, such empathy is not merely for people or creatures – it is an identification and presence with all that happens in the lifetime of a moment.  Sights, sounds, smells, tastes and emotions felt in the eternal “right now” are acknowledged and experienced deeply.  The young soldier in our original story felt the excitement of his attraction to a beautiful young woman and fully lived in one glorious kiss; the cricket sings joyfully at the bliss it feels drifting down a stream; the religious worshipper finds lasting peace in a moment of prayer; each person seeks the eternal now in contemplation of an eternal death.    The one who says “yes” to life, he or she forgets the past, its shame or heartache, and refuses to consider an unknown future.   We yearn to live forever in the recurring now, the now of ALL nows.

So too comes the spiritual ethic and process of forgiveness.  We choose to let go of the past.  We do not condemn ourselves to an unhappy future.  We choose steps and ways to refuse to live in anger and find, instead, a present peace with enemy and friend alike.

Love also exists, for me, only in the present.  What I felt about another person yesterday or last year is gone.  I have only its memory which may have been love at the time, but is now a distant emotion.  Who and what I dream to love in the future is just that – a longing for something I may or may not experience.  For me, love is REAL only in the moment – the devotion, loyalty and rapturous affection I feel and experience RIGHT NOW.

Such ideals constitute the philosophy of existentialism described by the French writer Jean Paul Sartre.  We exist, we know, we love and we act only in the moment.  All else is either the past, which might be interpreted a thousand different ways, or the future which is unknown mystery.  My being is HERE and my existence is only now.  Such is the only reality and truth.

What all of this means for us in life is as complex and simple as the Japanese poems I read earlier.  In our ruined homes of life, how do we let moonlight leak into our minds and souls?  When drifting down uncharted rivers – heading for rapids, whirlpools and certain death – how can we sing like a cricket, a Japanese symbol of happiness?

The answers we offer for the how of that process are many, and none are conclusive.  Indeed, as much as life itself is a struggle, so too is the effort to be at peace and live in happiness.  As simplistic as it is to carpe diem – to seize the day – or as it easy as it is to note that we should sing like crickets – the means we take to do so are more complex.  We must listen more than we speak.  We must observe and watch more than comment or judge.  We must choose to unshackle our minds to thoughts of worry, sadness or fear.  We must determine to simply BE – to rest in the breathing and heart beating and exist alongside all else that happens in a moment – the traffic outdoors, the stirrings of people around us, the sound of my voice, the light through windows.  This is reality.  This is truth.  This is finding pleasure only in that.  Nothing else exists.  No worries.  No anger. No fears.  Now.  Now.  Now…

I find myself so often living contrary to such truth.  I too often live in my past – in my pain and hurt and doubt of all that I have experienced.  As much as I have worked to be real – to be the Doug that I am in this moment – I too often retreat to the son who feels the slights of his father, to the fearfully closeted gay man I was for so many years, to the people pleaser who only wants others to like me.  Just as I sometimes dwell with ghosts of my past, I fear the prophets of my future – the unknown forces waiting to bring me down through illness, loneliness, or failure.

In such thoughts of my past and my future are the seeds of present unease or discomfort.  I don’t want to die alone.  I don’t want to feel the pain of a failing body.  I don’t want to reap the displeasure of others.  I yearn to be at peace, grateful, joyous and really alive.  I hope to matter and make a difference so that I am not soon forgotten.  As much as I mourn my unorthodox schedule and life patterns, in doing so I miss the beauty of friends in my midst, of my daughters reaching out to me, my work that is enjoyable and fulfilling, my very existence that is a privilege if I ponder the alternative.  Failing to live in the reality and celebration of now, I miss out on really living.

This summer day can be one of capturing the warm sun on my skin, a humid breeze that cools me, the smile of a person I know, the sound of music in my ear.  In my ruined house, in my small branch drifting in the river of life, I’m alone and scared and saddened.  In that reality, in that recognition of the pain of my life, I must answer the eternal question all of us are asked.  Will I right now kiss the young girl or guy, will I dance in the street in my underwear, will I bask in the moonlight, will I sing strong and loud?  Will I say “yes” to this reality, this life, this moment in time and embrace it all, or will I say “no”, and forever let slip that one moment’s chance to find peace?  Let me, I pray, choose this day – and only this day – to truly live.

I wish each of you, in this moment and on this day, much peace and joy.

Message 101, Summer Songs for Inspiration: ‘Rolling in the Deep’ by Adele, 7-15-12

©  Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to the message or see below to read.

 

Using song as a means to get revenge on a past lover or partner has long been a part of rock and roll.  Famous revenge songs go way back – at least to the 1970’s.  Nancy Sinatra wrote one of the first revenge songs.   She sang, “These boots are made for walkin, and that’s just what they’ll do, one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you!”

Carly Simon offered her own version of a revenge song directed at a previous lover – reportedly the actor Warren Beatty.  Her song “You’re So Vain” claimed that a past lover would be so arrogant he would assume the song was about him.  Of course, that must mean she had several past lovers all of whom might boast she was singing about them.

And the early 1980’s singer Blondie – who I remember from my college days – sang a famous version “One Way or Another”, an upbeat dance song, in which she fantasizes – one hopes – about doing off with her past lover by feeding him rat poison.

Today, one of the leading songs on the Billboard Top 100 is a piece entitled “Rolling in the Deep” by the newly famous singer Adele.  She won six grammy awards this past January including best pop singer and best album.  That album, entitled “21”, surpassed the late Whitney Houston’s “Bodyguard” album for the most weeks at #1 in the nation.  The song “Rolling in the Deep” was selected by Rolling Stone magazine as the best song of 2011.  It is also the most popular world song in nearly three decades – finding its way to the top of lists in Britain, France, Latin America and 9 other nations.  Let’s listen now to “Rolling in the Deep”…you can follow along with the lyrics printed on the back of your programs.

Some of you may remember our April message series entitled “The Gospel According to Dr. Seuss”.  I found positive insights from The Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham and The Lorax but I disagreed strongly with Seuss’ last book Oh, the Places You Will Go for its simplistic message that one’s success in life will be determined solely by hard work, perseverance and a pull yourself up by your bootstraps mentality.

I have done the same thing with the songs I chose for this July series on finding inspiration in various current songs of note.  “This Land is My Land” recently re-recorded by Neil Young and “Summertime” from Porgy and Bess both offer positive themes which speak to universal spiritual ideals.  But what about today’s song “Rolling in the Deep”?  Instead of finding helpful inspiration from it – I was struck by its angry and bitter tone.  Far from offering spiritual inspiration, the song appeals to our baser selves – the inner demons in us that lust for revenge – especially against a lover, partner or spouse – who has deeply hurt us.

I don’t want to play the pious Pastor and wag my finger at a song which is, after all, mostly for entertainment – and one that I enjoying for its beat and sound.  Even so, as we have discussed over the past two weeks, songs have a unique ability to speak to the deepest parts of our souls.  For any song, we must ask ourselves, does it ennoble us or does it pander to the darker recesses of human nature?

Experts and anthropologists note that the human desire for revenge comes from a survival instinct to lash back at someone that threatens.   Such behavior, experts assert, comes from the earliest days of our evolution.  The human sense of reciprocity is operative – if you hurt me, I must hurt you back to keep things even.  In order to maintain early social order, no individual could prosper through unfair actions – like stealing, murder or rape.  Fairness demanded retribution.

Consistent with the idea that cooperation builds moral imagination, as humans evolved and moved toward organizing themselves into clans, tribes, cities and nations, individual vengeance became counter-productive.  Violence tends to create more violence and vengeance is often more severe than the original misdeed.  While humans are rational beings, nature has also given us passions far beyond our survival instincts.   Instead of reacting to an attack with defensive actions designed to protect – and then moving on, humans remember and ponder a perceived injustice long after any threat to one’s survival has passed.

Vengeance, for humans, is thus often not a survival reaction but a selfish impulse.  Our sense of self has been violated and we can only feel good about ourselves if we equally punish the other.  Since humans lie, cheat, steal and act selfishly all the time, acts of vengeance could be very common.  Social order and communal cooperation demanded humanity adopt attitudes to diminish anger.

While Adele laments the hurt of knowing she and her lover could have had it all – the so-called British slang term of rolling in the deep of total, loving commitment – she also angrily hopes he will suffer, despair and be forced to worry what she will do next.  Beyond the humiliation of having her side of the break-up immortalized in song, this cad of a lover must now ponder the angry fire in her belly – the hate, bitterness and bile she has for him.  Indeed, Adele admitted that the song was written as an “f – you” to her former boyfriend.  He hurt me.  I’m gonna hurt him even worse.

While some may cheer Adele’s strength and resolve not to be treated as a doormat, the ultimate message of the song is not uplifting.  It tears down not only the ex-boyfriend, but Adele as well.  She has descended to his apparent level of one who speaks and acts with selfish disregard for the other.  BOTH of their actions are defined by their self-absorption.

Many experts and therapists, therefore, advocate the spiritual and practical benefits of forgiveness in romantic relationships.  Instead of acting out and causing further hurt, or suppressing anger and putting it off for another day, forgiveness acknowledges anger and then consciously chooses to let it go.  Forgiveness is a healthy response to a hurt.  This not only benefits the offender but also the offended.  Do we wish to stew in our own toxic brew of bitterness and bile, or do we aspire to live in peace?  Which is more satisfying, less time-consuming and likely to produce happiness?

Too often we assume that forgiving someone is an act of weakness and that it encourages or even rewards bad behavior.  One of the reasons Adele’s song and other revenge songs are so popular is that they appeal to baser notions that we must fight back.  The only way I can prove I am as strong as my opponent is to hit him too.

Counter-intuitively, to forgive is not a weak act.  As Gandhi put it, “Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.”  When we consciously refuse to hit back, when we turn the other cheek, when we choose love over anger, we choose to step outside the boundaries of natural behavior and into the realm of sublime and spiritual human power.

Indeed, to forgive a partner, spouse or anyone else is to offer one of the few forms of unconditional love we have to give.  To forgive is to offer love in response to hate without any expectation of return.  If the other does change or is truly contrite, love has accomplished its goal to enlarge itself.  If the other does not change, one has still extended love into a world where there is so little of it.  And one’s soul has been enlarged as a result.

Such soul enhancement comes directly from moving beyond common human behavior.  Striking back against someone who hurts us is a gross form of arrogance.  We assume we are too good to be hurt.  What we fail to remember is that we are also flawed and weak creatures.  Each of us has hurt others.  Try as we might, we are not perfect and we will hurt again – many, many times.

What Jesus encouraged and many experts echo is that we must refuse to render judgement on others.  Moral indignation at a slight or hurt we suffer prevents us from seeing the act as part of human frailty.  One of the most beautiful story lines in the New Testament is that of Jesus lovingly defending the woman caught in adultery.  He challenged those who condemned her to a stoning death.  “Which one of you has not also sinned?” he asked.  “Which one of you is blameless?  Which one of you self-righteous men have not also lusted or sexually sinned?  Let only he who is perfect throw the first stone.”

Implicit in Jesus’ defense of the woman is the idea that by forgiving others, we are ultimately pleading to be forgiven ourselves.  I have hurt many people in my life and yet, if I choose to react with anger towards someone who has hurt me, I implicitly shut the door to receiving any forgiveness myself – past, present or future.  Jesus said that we must forgive as we too wish to be forgiven.  “But I tell you who are willing to listen,” he said, “love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you and pray for those who mistreat you.  To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer also the other.”

By understanding the human frailty of our offenders, we empathize with their actions and thus enlarge love.  We need not condone the hurtful acts but we instead seek to understand the deeper motivation behind them.  The offender may not have intended to do harm or he or she may have acted because of some past injury to his or her soul.   Empathy involves choosing to walk in their shoes and see as they see.  If we do so, we not only draw closer to the offender, we deliberately promote love.

Such was the case of the adulterous woman Jesus saved from stoning.  Later on, we see her pouring extremely expensive lotion on Jesus – using her hair as a cloth.  By experiencing his forgiveness, she was a changed woman and her heart overflowed with love and gratitude.  The power of forgiveness was greater than any misdeed.

When we choose to understand hurtful behavior, we might also discover our own role in being hurt.  Many times, in big or small ways, we have contributed to the situation.  We are often partially at fault.  In many relationship disputes, blame can be assigned to both persons.  Genuine forgiveness of the other then must include a sincere examination of one’s own role in the hurt – followed by forgiveness for the offender and oneself.  The goal, once again, in relationship disagreements or break-ups is to diffuse anger, restore peace and renew love.  Holding onto bitterness, anger and thoughts of vengeance do not create peace or build love.

It is important to recognize that forgiveness does not mean one prevents the law of consequences from happening.  Forgiveness does not replace justice.  It merely diffuses hate and anger.  Justice may demand compensation, apology or changed behavior.  The law of consequences assumes that boundaries are established so that offenders reap what they sow and cannot indiscriminately repeat their actions.  If you strike me, I will forgive you and work to eliminate my anger and thoughts of retribution, but I will take steps to prevent myself from being struck again.

Indeed, to forgive is a loving act that may also require tough love.  I will not hate you for what you have done and I will not seek vengeance against you but I will explore ways to encourage you to change.  I will not be a doormat but I will also NOT enable your negative behavior by seemingly condoning it.  If you lie to me, I may not trust you until you re-earn it.  If you verbally hurt me, I may not engage in conversation with you when you are angry.  If you continually hurt me, I may choose to separate myself from you but I will not hate you nor will I speak to you in anger.

Ultimately, what we gain when we forgive and refuse to harbor anger is a triumph of our goodness.  By refusing to play the victim, by refusing to see ourselves as someone who is hurt and angry, we not only renounce the petty demands of our selfish demons, we assert our power and strength over the situation.  No longer does the offender have control because of his or her actions.  When we forgive, we take back control.  We are the ones determining the course of events.  We are not the pitiful victim wallowing in a sea of self-focused anger and despair, but the one who has truly overcome.  We are not the loser but the victor.

I have told some of you about my past divorce from the mother of my daughters.  Despite the hurt from finding out I am gay, Kirby was not angry or vindictive.  In ways that I can only partially understand, she must have felt all the confusion a woman feels when she realizes a man she loves is not attracted to her.  That must have hurt her very deeply but it did not cloud our years of mutual affection.  Neither of us were perfect in our marriage and yet we did love each other.  She came to understand why I married her and she empathized with my need to move on.  We easily managed a division of our assets and we committed to jointly raising our girls.  We remain good friends and I will always know her as my first love.  This gracious and beautiful woman gave me a gift of unconditional love and forgiveness for the pain I caused.  What I did was not deliberate, but it was still an act born of fear and cowardice.  But the past is the past and we produced two gorgeous and thriving daughters whom we would not have were we not married.

The pathway to forgiveness is easy to know but difficult to follow.  First, one should acknowledge the hurt one feels.  Don’t suppress such feelings.  Second, find ways to be at peace about the hurt – use meditation, prayer, or reflection.  Third, take inventory of the offender – be willing to see the whole person and focus particularly on what is good.  Work to think loving thoughts toward the other by remembering his or her kindnesses and positive qualities.  Fourth, find empathy for the one who hurt you.  Seek to understand why he or she acted as they did.  Put yourself in their shoes and see the situation from their perspective.  Fifth, honestly examine if you contributed to the hurtful act.  Don’t accept blame where there is none, but be willing to see your own role in the episode if there is one.  Sixth, accept that true love for the other may include appropriate boundaries designed to protect yourself and prevent future pain.  Allow for natural consequences to occur – not ones you create to punish the other.  Seventh, make a conscious decision to speak with peace and kindness to the other.  Tell him or her you forgive them and express your love for them.  Forgiveness is not an instant act.  It is a process.

My friends, hurt happens.  We can often act as brutes toward one another – especially those closest to us.  But the greatest statement that might be said of any of us – now or long after we are gone – is that we were a forgiving person.  As Jesus said, those who build peace, who work to diffuse violence and retribution are those who will truly inherit the earth.  This is a vision which I believe is an evolutionary possibility for humanity one day – hatred will end, cooperation will prevail, diversity will be embraced, selfishness will cease, and the lion will, indeed, figuratively lie with the lamb.  If this world that we envision is to come to pass, it can begin with us – in our relationships with partners, family and friends.  There is far too much hurt in the world.  Let us do the work we are called to do as a part of any faith community – may we strive to diminish pain in ourselves and in others.  May we sing not songs of bitterness, but songs of love, peace and forgiveness…

I wish you, one and all, peace, joy and love…

 

Message 100, Summer Songs, “Summertime” and the African-American Spiritual, 7-8-12

© Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

 

 

On a number of Sundays, we have explored in here how we might find inner peace during times of struggle and hardship.  When a crisis hits – either big or small, when our health gives out, when the weight of the world seems to be on our shoulders, how do we cope?  How do we survive not just the physical threat during times of stress, but the inner emotional and spiritual pain?

Surprisingly, as I have noted before, humans have an amazing ability to cope with crisis.  Despite great psychic pain, most people are resilient enough to emerge from difficult times with their emotional health intact.  Through friendships, prayer, meditation, support by loved ones and personal strength, issues like depression and grief are largely overcome.  As individuals and as a species, we find ways to survive.

One of the remarkable aspects of African-American culture has been its communal power to overcome and to weather, together, the horrific times of slave ship, plantation, Jim Crow and the fight for civil rights.  African-Americans have relied on family, strong community ties and their faith to maintain a heroic sense of possibility, hope and positive thinking.   Black spirituals – the African-American musical contribution to our national culture – have been primary tools in their arsenal of ways to cope.  While often repetitive and seemingly simplistic, black gospel and spiritual music emotionally resonate within their community.  Spirituals forge and reinforce bonds of togetherness.  The music emphasizes eternal verities of persistence, hope and even ecstatic joy that suffering is but a temporary roadblock.  Dawn will come in the morning, heaven awaits at the end, joy will defeat darkness and all will be well in this life or the hereafter.

George Gershwin was asked in 1930 by the Metropolitan Opera Company of New York to compose an American opera.  He was offered free reign to choose the story or libretto.  Gershwin had the perfect story in mind – a relatively obscure play called Porgy by Dubose Heyward.  The play was set in South Carolina and its characters were almost entirely African-American.  But the Met was part of the racist Jim Crow institution of the time, refusing to permit any black singer or performer.  For characters who are black, the Met insisted on using white actors in blackface.  Gershwin refused to compromise the inherent African-American power and poignancy of the story by using white actors.  He turned down the Met’s commission but composed the opera anyway.

He began writing his piece in 1933 and a new American opera, Porgy and Bess, debuted in 1935 using an all black cast.  It was produced by the Theatre Guild of New York.  It ran with mixed reviews – critics were not sure if it was a comedy or serious piece of social commentary.  Some African-American critics decried the portrayal of the black experience by a white librettist – Dubose Heyward, and a white composer – George Gershwin.  Overall, though, it was accepted within the black community as one of the first mainstream opera productions that paid homage to the black experience and black spiritual music in particular.  While the first production would run for just over 100 performances, its fame grew and it was soon revived and produced across the nation – running even at the Met less than ten years later.  In 1959, it was adapted into a motion picture starring Sidney Poitier and won the Best Picture Academy Award.

Steven Sondheim and other music and opera commentators have since hailed Porgy and Bess as perhaps the greatest of American operas.  While its lyrics and music were written by whites, its songs have been largely embraced by the African-American community – finding their way into the jazz and blues repertoire of such greats like Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.  Gershwin had taken seriously the endeavor to recreate the black musical sound.  He travelled South Carolina extensively and visited hundreds of black churches – listening to their indigenous music and choral sounds.  The cadence and rhythm of Porgy and Bess songs almost perfectly recreate not just the sound of black spirituals but their emotional resonance.  The signature musical piece of the opera, a song entitled “Summertime”, is now considered a jazz and blues classic – one of the foremost pieces in the distinctly American contribution to world music.

And in that regard, “Summertime” is a perfect fit for our July effort to find spiritual inspiration from songs.  Much like the song we looked at last week, “This Land is My Land” by Woodie Guthrie and Neil Young, “Summertime” may not seem to be profoundly spiritual.  But its power and its enduring legacy is that it is exactly that – it offers a deeply spiritual message in the tradition of black gospel music that has roots in the slave ship and plantation field experiences.  Let’s listen to the song now as performed by Billie Holliday in 1936 – a jazz style interpretation versus the operatic one.  You can read the lyrics on the reverse of your programs.

The story of Porgy and Bess is set in the fictional Catfish Row area of Charleston, South Carolina.  That area was based on the actual Cabbage Row section – the low country regions of the outer bank islands east of the city.  This was swamp land perfect for the cultivation of rice…….and the breeding of malaria infected mosquitoes.  Africans were largely immune to such diseases but whites were not.  Historically, this low country area was abandoned by white land owners and left to poor white overseers and black slaves imported from eastern Africa who were used to work in swampy rice fields.  These African slaves created their own unique identity called the Gullah culture -free of white influences and one which remains vibrant today.  Gullah culture has its own language, food, music, art and traditions which largely borrow from black African roots.  It thrived in its isolation from the white world and is therefore hailed today as an inspiration for blacks precisely because it preserves much that is African.  Heyward and Gershwin borrowed heavily from Gullah culture in their writing of Porgy and Bess.

The opera is a tale of despair, death, murder, and drugs.  Like all great tragedies, however, it also embodies themes of uplifting loyalty, love and hope.  Ambrose Heyward, who wrote the libretto, based his story about the character Porgy on an actual man.  The story’s tragedy is thus founded not on white racist mythology but on elements of truth.

As I said, many critics even today decry this story as one that perpetuates the worse aspects of black life.  It seems to validate white racist views that African-American culture is one of loose morals, fighting and rampant crime.  Indeed, its story might just as easily be set in the confines of Over-the-Rhine and yet, to reduce its themes to one of drugs, murder and infidelity is to miss its evocative nature as a universally human story.

Porgy is a crippled man of little means who nevertheless has a cheerily positive outlook on life and who loves, from afar, the beautiful and flirtatious Bess.  She continues to succumb to the seductions of life – men who want sex and who buy it with drugs and crime.  As an essentially good person, Bess is an addict and eventually flees Charleston for New York City, pulled along by the drug pusher who plays to her weaknesses.  Porgy is in love with Bess and even murders one of her nefarious suitors.  In the midst of this central story line, a hurricane hits the coast and takes the life of Clara and her husband Jake – two members of the community and associates of Porgy and Bess.  At the conclusion of the story, Porgy is setting off for New York City, a place he did not know.  In an image worthy of Don Quixote, Porgy departs by goat cart in a desperate but hope filled crusade to find and rescue the woman he loves.

In the tradition of Hamlet, Othello or Don Quixote, Porgy is a tragic hero – crippled in his own way but determined to overcome.  In the same manner, Bess is crippled by her addiction to drugs and men.  Far from being a caricature of black life, the story brings to mind universal themes of human weakness, failure, pain and loss.  As tragic as the story might be, it refuses to wallow in human misery.  Like all of us who face struggle and hardship, the characters are amazingly resilient in their effort to overcome.

And that is the central message of the opera and of its signature song “Summertime” – one that is sung at three different times by three different characters – thus lending to it the hope that any person harbors in their soul.  The song is first sung by Clara to her baby – a lullaby intended to soothe and calm.  It is sung again by Bess – this time after the baby’s mother and father die in the hurricane.  Finally, Porgy sings pieces of the song in his hope filled preparations to find Bess in New York.

Such hope and positive thinking are persistent themes of this song and of other black spirituals.  Life may be full of pain, and despair may be a reality ….. yet, in our minds, we must conjure the easy life of languid summer days full of peace and plenty.   Don’t you cry, child.  Mommy and daddy are here – life is tough but hope is stronger.  One of these days, child, you will rise like a phoenix from the ashes of this life, spreading angel wings to fly off in your own resurrection to find heaven on earth.

This theme of finding peace is a hallmark of black spiritual music.  It is a hallmark of the African-American experience.  Black spirituals are a means to cope with years of slavery, hellish discrimination and bitter inequality.  Drawing strongly from Biblical themes and imagery, “Summertime” continues the tradition of black spirituals that originated during slavery – ones like “Sweet Chariot”, “Down by the Riverside”, and “Joshua fit the Battle of Jericho” – all speaking to the hope and promise of redemption.  African-American slaves identified strongly with the Jewish exodus story – that of Egyptian slavery, escape, endurance and freedom in the promised land.  Moses and Jesus were figures of deliverance to the black slave or poor share-cropper – god-like heroes who will redeem the enslaved, poor and weak.

Black spiritual music indeed captures the essence of genuine spirituality.  It is a spirituality that refuses to give up, refuses to languish, refuses to accept defeat.  Such music and spirituality envisions the promise of heaven on earth –  a realm of justice, comfort and peace – and our human calling to help build it.  Much like Moses was a flawed man given to indecision and violence, Porgy is literally crippled by his physical limp and his all too human anger in the face of injustice.  But Moses and Porgy both rise up in their refusal to be beaten down.  They are heroes in their own way – deeply flawed persons who fight the good fight.  Bess is like all of us – one who is weak when tempted and too easily overwhelmed by the crippling forces of life.  But she too is a heroic figure – one who loves and comforts others while trying to be a better person.

In 1930’s America, many African-Americans were just beginning to retreat from rural and agrarian lifestyles.  Many were ashamed of that poor and seemingly backward culture.  The opera Porgy and Bess depicts this rural culture and even celebrates its rough and tough life.  For many critics, even some who write today, the opera is a racist depiction of the worst of black culture.  It perpetuates, they say, racist ideas about how African-Americans live and act.

While the opera was, indeed, written by white men, it nevertheless is symbolic of the black and, for that matter, universal human experience.  The Jewish slaves depicted in the Bible were not paragons of virtue despite their heroic suffering.  Just days after their miraculous escape, they began to bitterly complain and fall into depression about their food and long hot desert days.  In time, they too succumbed to their temptations and indulged in wild worship of the golden calf – celebrating sex, booze and riches.

It is often too easy for me and many whites to wonder about the lives of African-Americans who fall into crime, drugs, out-of-wedlock parenthood and unemployment.  What I and white America often forget to understand is that such flaws are not unique to blacks.  Whites too suffer from issues of addiction and temptation.  Such is the eternal fate of humankind – we are all fallen people struggling against our weaknesses that enjoy sex, strong drink, bouts of depression and other forms of self-focused living.  We, as humans, are all too consumed with the needs of the self.

Such flaws are not only common, they define us as humans – as creatures dwelling for a time on this cruel earth while aspiring to a better life and a better soul.  To be flawed is to be a member of the human race.  Too often we are victims of our own humanity – inflicting on ourselves or on others the indignities of hate, violence and emotional distress.   The black experience of struggle against the forces of pain in their culture – addiction, infidelity and crime – are direct manifestations of the hurt inflicted on them by white America.  Such is often the case for any individual or culture.  We react, often badly, to the pain we experience.

The triumphant glory of the black experience, however, is their persistent ability to cope and ultimately thrive.  As I said earlier, black spiritual music was one of their primary survival tools.  And the song “Summertime” is a classic rendition of such spiritual music.  Hope is not an empty emotion.  Finding peace in one’s heart and mind are not worthless endeavors.  Claiming the strength and will to overcome is not an idle boast.  They are powerful truths that speak to what spirituality is all about.  We are called to be ever growing, ever learning, and ever aspiring to grow wings and fly as transcendent angels bringing justice, compassion and love to a hurting world.

White, protestant America – of which the Gathering follows in its traditions – is too often stuck in the western mindset of dour determination and rational thinking.  We arrogantly assume our ways to be better than African, oriental or latino cultures.  We enjoy our music and watch our westernized operas and symphonies believing them to be superior or more complex than simple and repetitive African spirituals.  Also, in a form of subtle racism, whites demean the black experience of struggle against personal demons – ignoring the fact they have their own.  The vagaries of crime and drugs and infidelity in urban American are no worse and no better than the inside trading crimes, alcoholism, multiple divorces and psychological therapy endemic to white, middle class suburbia.  Black, white, yellow or brown, we are all humans prone to the same inner demons.  Like all humanity, we all also yearn to act as better angels.

Listening to the song “Summertime” in the dog days of our own summer is a rapturous experience.  Even more so, however, is the realization that the song evokes the pain and promise of not only the African-American experience but of the universal human experience as well.  Such experience is truly one of overcoming hardship through positive thinking and refusing to accept defeat.  The black tradition has always been about endurance while yearning for what is good in human nature.  We, as largely members of a white culture, would be wise to learn from that.

I, like many of you, know too many stories of people fighting personal temptations, people aching with physical pain, friends in deep grief, dear ones in anguish.  But, my friends, for any of us caught in such everyday trials of hard work, mourning, poor health, loneliness, addiction or depression…………it’s summertime and the living is easy.  Your daddy’s rich and your momma’s good looking.  And one of these mornings, child, you’re going to rise up singing, spreading wings and you’ll take to the sky.  Life is tough but hope is truly, truly stronger.

I wish you all much joy and even more peace…

Message 99, Summer Songs, This Land is Your Land, 7-1-12

© Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to the message or read it below:

 

 

Woodie Guthrie, one of the 20th century’s acclaimed folk music artists, was born in 1922 in Okemah, Oklahoma.  As he grew up in Okemah, he experienced firsthand its oil boom years and sudden crash when the oil ran out.  Drilling and oil companies quickly departed and left the town shaken and largely unemployed.

On top of those experiences, Guthrie came of age just as the Great Depression hit.  He married and had several children.  But in the midst of an oil bust, a national depression, and the extreme drought of the dust bowl years, Guthrie could not find work to support his family.  And so he took to the road – heading to California – to find work and thus send money to his wife and kids.  California, at the very edge of the symbolic American frontier, was viewed (as it often still is) as a land of promise – a golden state of warm weather, lush agriculture and buzzing commercial activity.

Guthrie became part of the greatest migration in American history – over 400,000 homeless people left their Midwest homes in the 1930’s, desperate in their search for the elusive American dream.  On that homeless journey across the west, Guthrie found fame among the dust bowl refugees, or “Okies” as they were called.  His songs about those years – the desperation, hope and fears of people decimated by the depression, defined his folk identity.

Guthrie found a different California from what he expected – one dominated by greed, intolerance, racism and a gaping gulf between the haves and the have-nots.  He found few differences from the dog eat dog ways of the oil fields he had left.  Money and wealth were the lubricant of the culture.  Poor migrant workers were at the lowest of the social strata – scorned for their lack of culture, their poverty, their dirty, dejected and sweaty appearance.  These Okies from the dust bowl Midwest replaced Hispanic workers and were demeaned as a result.  Guthrie, however, found work at a Los Angeles radio station – writing and singing the kinds of songs popular with the expanding migrant population.

His fame grew so that he eventually moved with his family to New York City where he was feted by that city’s liberal elite.   He became a noted song writer, novelist and poet.  In 1941, he was hired by the New Deal Arts project to document his dust bowl travels and experiences.  His songs, novels like the Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck and photos by Dorothea Lange, whose haunting images document that exodus, all these seared into the American consciousness the face of grinding and hopeless poverty.  Sadly, it is said that such poverty only resonated with the greater public because dust bowl refugees were largely white.  Even so, Guthrie was their figurative spokesperson – one who evoked the pain and yearnings of people who literally had nothing.

In 1940, Irving Berlin’s song “God Bless America” had become hugely popular – one made even more famous by Kate Smith’s regular radio performance of the piece.  Guthrie, however, was offended by the song’s hypocrisy and lack of truth.  Its first verse sings, “While the storm clouds gather far across the sea, let us swear allegiance to a land that’s free.  Let us all be grateful for a land so fair, as we raise our voices in a solemn prayer:  God Bless America.”

How was America free or fair, Guthrie wondered?  To those born in the midst of the dust bowl, to the workers laid off and then standing in long bread lines just to survive, Guthrie and others asked if a person is really free if there is no opportunity to enjoy it?  Is America truly fair when the circumstances of one’s birth and parentage determine one’s lot in life – instead of how hard one works, or wants to work?

And so he wrote the song “This Land is Your Land”, one recently re-recorded by Neil Young and the Crazy Horse Band for their new album “Americana”.  On the album, Neil Young reinterprets classic American folk songs – like “Oh Susanna” and “My Darling Clementine” – that are well loved but little understood.  And Guthrie’s song “This Land…” is perhaps one of the most misunderstood.  Young interprets the folk songs with a hard rock sound that gives them a more contemporary feel.  Young purposefully included “This Land” on his new album as a statement that little in our nation has changed since the 1940’s.  “Americana” is now fourth in overall sales as listed on the Billboard top 100.  Let’s listen to the song and, as we do, you may follow the lyrics on the back of your programs…

Click here to read the lyrics to the Neil Young song while you listen.

Guthrie’s song “This Land” challenges a 1930s and 1940s America that was increasingly being bought and sold; an America that stood for equality, justice and liberty but often did not live up to those ideals.

The three most pointed verses, the ones speaking about a land of “No Trespassing” signs and lines of people forming outside of relief offices – in the shadow of a steeple – these were intentionally removed from most published versions of the song.  Guthrie was later accused of being a socialist and communist – a freely used epithet against anyone who expressed concern for the poor.  An examination of Guthrie’s original manuscript and his original recording – produced long before the sanitized version became popular – all contain the controversial verses.  They change the entire meaning of the song.

As a fourth grade kid, I remember singing the song at a school assembly – but these verses were not included.  Indeed, until listening to the song recently on iTunes – after learning about Young’s “Americana” album – I had never heard those verses nor understood the song’s intended meaning.   The deletion of those verses has led many people to believe the song is a patriotic hymn of praise for our nation.

To the contrary, Guthrie intended, as Young does now, to point out the irony of the ideal that America belongs to everyone.  Implied in his lyrics is the notion that America may be out of tune with its Christian and democratic values.  Guthrie and Young make a bold statement: despite the willful privatization and exclusion that goes on in our nation, America is not truly owned by the wealthy or by large corporations.  It was made by the creator for all of us.  It was created and founded as a land open to all.  “Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,” this nation has long vowed.  This land is your land – a land of opportunity to the children of slaves, migrant field workers, laid off steelworkers, single moms fighting to feed their families.  For Guthrie, it is not enough to say America is a land of opportunity, it must actually be so.

On this Sunday preceding the Fourth of July holiday, it’s important to heed the message of Guthrie’s song.  What is REAL patriotism?  Much like authentic spirituality or genuine love, such patriotism does not assert untrue boasts.  It is humble and well aware of national flaws.  Real patriotism is unafraid to confess the many ways a nation does not live up to its ideals.  Indeed, real patriotism calls the nation – much like spiritual contemplation challenges us as individuals – to change and grow for the better.  America, like us, must constantly aspire to be one that equals its stated promise.  “This Land Is Your Land” speaks this voice of authentic patriotism.

The American Political Science Association recently issued a report claiming that the wealthy have an outsized voice in American government – a voice that leaders and politicians of both parties readily heed.  Citizens with lower to moderate wealth are speaking with a whisper, the report asserted.  It concluded by saying, “progress toward realizing American ideals of democracy may have stalled, and even, in some places, reversed.”

As if to prove this point, the Washington Times – a strongly conservative paper, noted that the May statistics on giving to the two presidential campaigns showed almost one third of all funds collected by the Obama campaign came from those giving over $10,000.  Almost half of all donations to the Romney campaign came from such donors.  Much as in Woodie Guthrie’s day, money speaks.  There is a “No Trespassing” sign erected at the gateway to American government – one that prevents the poor, marginal and middle class citizen to cross.  Does this land belong to me and to you, or is it just an illusion?

Offering a viewpoint similar to that of the Political Scientists, The Economist magazine – one also noted for its strongly pro-business and pro-capitalist opinions – claims that there is a growing income disparity in the United States.  As an example, thirty years ago the average compensation of the top 100 business chief executives in the US was 30 times that of the average worker.  Today, top 100 CEO pay is over 1000 times the pay of the average worker.  Such rising pay inequality is reflected across the workforce.  American corporations used to be agents of upward mobility for workers, the magazine noted.  One gained an entry level position and, through loyalty, hard work and skill, could rise to the highest levels.  An individual often worked his or her entire life for one company.  Today, that is rarely the case with corporations turning to individuals graduating from elite colleges and graduate schools, instead of promoting those from entry positions.

The American education system is also no longer one of equality, The Economist noted.  The system is increasingly stratified by class, with poor kids attending schools with limited resources while the wealthy attend schools with vastly greater resources.  Children born today have opportunities in life based on the educational level of their parents – and that is highly dependent on one’s economic class.  Children born to wealthy parents have far greater opportunities to succeed.  Children born to parents of low or moderate income have sharply limited opportunities.  This is in stark contrast to how it once was.  The Economist concludes its editorial by saying, “the United States risks calcifying into a European-style, class-based society.”

My friends, this is a deeply spiritual issue.  The greatest of history’s spiritual leaders all promoted issues of economic fairness.  Jesus was a radical for his time – he often attacked the elites of his day and their hypocrisy.  Many theologians believe his revolutionary ideas about poverty and wealth were what really led to his arrest and execution.  Elites of the time loved to brag about the size of their offering, they used the Temple as a space for profit making, they cheated the poor, ignored the needy and abandoned the sick.  Do not be arrogant or haughty, the New Testament tells the wealthy – give liberally and never place your trust in money.

The Old Testament implores the rich to speak up for the poor who cannot speak for themselves.  The Jewish prophet Ezekiel clearly states that the real sin of Sodom – verses ignored by many fundamentalists – is “that Sodom was arrogant, overfed and unconcerned…they did not help the poor and needy.”  Muhammad said those who fail to liberally give to the poor are sinful and not true Muslims.  The Buddha taught that charity is the highest of spiritual ideals.  Gandhi’s movement was one to empower India’s poor – no matter their religion.  Mother Theresa devoted her life to the care for the poorest of humans – the untouchables of Calcutta, India.

Spiritually, each of us knows that selfish living is a zero sum game.  We enrich our bodies at the risk of our souls and our collective community.  We become people who do not love, care for or support the needs of others.  Moral imagination calls for a re-examination of how success is achieved.  Cooperation and mutual support is the key to individual and national well being.  And that has always been the great strength of this nation – that the American dream was founded on the idea that given freedom of opportunity, the vast majority of citizens, working together, can realize an enjoyable middle class life – a house, a car, adequate food, occasional vacations, and college education for the kids.  But the foundations on which that American dream was built are crumbling – unequal school resources, expensive health care, college costs out of reach, and limited upward mobility in employment.

Indeed, that is the spiritual and patriotic message implicit in Guthrie’s and Young’s song.  Wealth and capitalism are not despised or attacked.  In a capitalist economy, not everyone will equally prosper.  But the American dream has never been based on equality of wealth, but on equality of opportunity.

Wealth and capitalism are implicitly and ironically supported in Guthrie’s song.  A return to ideals of fairness and opportunity for every person who wishes to work hard is a means to protect capitalism.  Unless the worst excesses of rampant, selfish greed are held in check, we risk the outcome that The Economist magazine predicts – a class based economy that stagnates and eventually collapses.

With such a decline, America risks the loss of its vibrant diversity and upward mobility that fosters innovation, creativity and a fertile economy.  Class based economies waste the inherent intelligence and expertise locked in the minds of those who cannot rise through lack of a decent education or limited access to the levers of power.  Great cultures like ancient Rome and 19th century Great Britain arguably lost their great power status largely because they perpetuated class based systems that stifled inclusion and opportunity.  Indeed, in a recent study, France is now ranked higher in opportunity for upward mobility than the United States.  Rising inequality of income and education puts American capitalism at risk.  And that puts us all – rich and poor – in jeopardy.  Even worse, we risk becoming a hollow nation – one that comforts itself with false patriotism while the reality is something far different.

The ultimate fear is that America will lose its evolving spiritual ethic that has always cherished justice and equality.  America has never been perfect but is has, from its earliest days, been a place that increasingly offered upward mobility, freedom and opportunity to each citizen.  In the shadow of our steeples, we must not lose our concern for the poor, the weak, the disenfranchised.  We must not lose our sense of fair play and belief in the intrinsic worth of every person.  We must continue to foster inspiring life examples of men like Lincoln born to illiterate parents in the backwoods of Kentucky, like Reagan who rose from a childhood in rural Illinois – born to an alcoholic shopkeeper dad, or to an Obama who defied centuries of racism and rose as a biracial son of a single mom – all these men ascending to the pinnacle of prestige and power.   Any of us should be able to realistically tell any child – black, white, rich, poor, male, female, gay or straight – “one day that could be you!”

Woodie Guthrie and Neil Young have expressed in song a tune not of protest, but of hope and promise.  Far beyond the geography of this nation – calling America “this land” evokes much of what is unique about us.  We began as an expansive but unknown frontier of hope, and that image remains a part of national identity.   America, the land, is by its very nature a quasi spiritual realm – a refuge for all humanity where universal ideals of compassion, fairness, justice, freedom and opportunity might be lived out.  John Winthrop, the founding governor of Plymouth colony, first coined the phrase that this land is like a city on a hill – evoking Jesus’ great image and even greater ethical teachings.  While sincere men and women will disagree on how that image can continue to be realized, a fundamental truth still remains.  All humanity – not just Americans – are called by millennia of spiritual reflection and truth to love others and treat them as they too wish to be treated – the Golden Rule.  If a child is born into the streets outside these windows and cannot hope to escape a cycle of poverty, is that love?  If in this very city children gather in “state of the art” elementary and secondary schools while others, only a few miles away, gather in schools that would make a third world nation embarrassed, is that love?  When access to the corridors of power are restricted only to those with great wealth, is that love?  When millions of citizens live in daily fear that they could be diagnosed with a serious illness but have no health insurance to pay for treatment, is that love?

Our answer to these questions must frame our actions.  Guthrie and Young sing a plea to you and to me.  We must honestly examine our consciences and ask the question – is this land – this land that embodies dreams of opportunity – is it your land, my land, and the land of each and every citizen?

I wish you peace, joy and a Happy Fourth of July week…

Message 98, Destination Life: Easy Street, 6-17-12

© Doug Slagle, Pastor at the Gathering UCC, All Rights Reserved

Click here to listen to the message.  See below to read.

 

Winning a big lottery jackpot is dream for most of us.  I confess to buying a ticket or two when the winning amount gets large enough.  Rationally, I know the odds of winning are greater than me being elected President – but I buy a ticket anyway by consoling myself that somebody must win.  And, during the time leading up to the drawing, I think about all the ways I might use the money – often thinking of the many ways I would help family and friends.  You can just imagine the wonderful church building I’ve built in my mind with my fantasy winnings.

Sadly, though, many people only half jokingly refer to the lottery as their retirement savings plan.   And, as we know, the lottery and other forms of gambling are highly regressive forms of taxation.  The poor and those least able to afford buying tickets are often the ones who buy them the most – visions of becoming an instant millionaire dance in their heads too.

Just as sad, though, are the very common but unlucky stories of some who do win lottery jackpots of significant size.  Michael Carroll of Great Britain won nearly 20 million dollars but within ten years had lost it all.  He says he spent it on gambling, drugs and prostitutes.  “The party is over and I haven’t got two pennies to rub together,” he says now.  “I find it easier for me to live off of 42 pounds than to have millions.”

Evelyn Adams won 6 million in the New Jersey lottery but also lost it to a drug addiction.  She now lives in a rented trailer with a roommate.  “I made mistakes, some I regret, some I don’t.” she says.  “I’m human.”

Or, take the example of the Greenwich, Connecticut group of office workers who split a 245 million dollar jackpot.  Office lunches became impossible because of resentment by those who did not win.  There were many lost friendships, bitter office fights, lawsuits and many of those who won decided to move to new homes even though they had planned to stay where they had lived.  It seems their neighbors no longer spoke to many of them and some even had their properties vandalized.

Oren Dorrell thought he and his wife were being prudent when they invested all of their lottery winnings in low risk savings bonds.  He wanted to continue working at his old job and use the winnings as his retirement fund.  But, it seems friends and neighbors turned away from he and his wife.  “There go those lottery snobs” people would say.  Dorrell believes most people are resentful of someone who instantly wins big.

Finally, there is the story of William Bud Post who won 16 million in 1998.  His brother hired a hit man to kill William after conspiring to being named in the will.  Other relatives of William persuaded him to invest in a business that soon failed.  In 2006 he declared bankruptcy and six months later died of respiratory failure – due mostly to smoking which he had picked up again after winning the lottery.

The most obvious lesson from such stories is that, clearly, money does not buy wisdom, friendships or happiness.  And this might also be said of almost any other form of prosperity in life – an abundance of good health, great intelligence or fantastic wealth.  Finding ourselves on the easy street of life is not always an instant ticket to contentment.  As we have looked at over the last two weeks, determining our destiny is not a simple matter.  Our lives are subject to often mysterious forces that have great influence over us.   Who we are, how we think and what we do in life are shaped by our genetics, how we were raised and by random events.  But, we also know that we can and must take charge of our lives – acting as so called Captains of our souls – helping to guide our lives despite the unseen forces that affect us.  In that regard, when faced with inevitable hardships, we need not be mere pawns at the mercy of cruel fate.  Adversity can be surgery to our souls – helping us grow as people, even as we struggle through pain and heartbreak.  As Nietzsche said, “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”

But what should our response be to the times in our lives when we figuratively land on easy street – when life is going well, when we are generally happy, healthy and wealthy enough to provide for our basic needs and a few modest pleasures?  We intuitively know that adversity can be good for us and that we should use hardship as an opportunity, but how do we react to prosperity?  How do we respond to the good times in life?  What is a spirituality for easy street living?

According to the teachings of Buddha, there are three types of people in our world.  The first type of person is figuratively blind in both eyes.  One eye is blind to opportunities for prosperity or success in any area of life.  He or she will sadly fail at almost every life endeavor.  The second eye is also figuratively blind.  The person has no wisdom and is blind to seeing or understanding right from wrong.  He or she has no virtue and never will.  Unsuccessful and lacking in common morality – this person is not a model citizen.

The second type of person is blind in only one eye.  He or she will succeed in at least one area of life and find basic life security.  One eye, at least, is able to see ways to achieve.  But, most importantly, this second type of person has only partial perception of right and wrong.  There is limited ability to act with kindness and one is often angry, bitter, depressed or hate filled.  This person will only partially prosper in life and will struggle to find real peace.

The third type of person is symbolically fully sighted.  He or she has the wisdom to see and know how to succeed and find prosperity.  This third type of person is also able to see and know right from wrong.  As the Buddha said, only a person who is capable of seeing out of both eyes, how to succeed AND how to be at peace with the self and the world, only this person is an ideal human.  He or she is humble, patient, content, empathetic, compassionate, even-tempered, free of strong temptations and just.  Indeed, this person has achieved a state of enlightenment – an elusive way of being that is the goal for any person.

Most people live somewhere in the second category, somewhere between the two extremes of total blindness and complete sight.  We know how to navigate the responsibilities of life to work and care for ourselves but we lack full enlightenment in how to find inner peace and in how to be perfectly loving and compassionate people.  Life, for many of us, is a continual quest to see things in a better and more generous light.

What we ultimately seek is soul prosperity.  While financial prosperity sounds wonderful, most people usually come to a realization that a better form of easy street living is to have a prosperous soul – one that is wise, virtuous and at peace.  From the Buddha, we see that many people find certain forms of prosperity in their lives – financial wealth, work success, strong health, great intelligence or athletic prowess.  But very few find the kind of soul prosperity that leads to enlightenment.  It is that soul prosperity which speaks to any of us – Buddhist or not – as a response to how we respond to the easy street times in life.  How can we prosper our souls not only when the going gets tough – as we looked at last week – but when the going is smooth and easy.  Indeed, I contend that it is far tougher to find soul prosperity when times are good.  We are prone to grow and learn more during adversity.  But easy street living can also be times for growth if we are so intentional.

Paul tells us in the Bible that money is NOT the root of all evil.  Indeed, he turned to several wealthy followers for his support.  Jesus also did not condemn wealth.  He even befriended and used the efforts of a rich little man named Zaccheus – the one who climbed into a tree, the better to see the famous Jesus – and the one who repented of his greedy ways and committed himself to a life of giving and serving.  The Buddha acknowledged that money and the making of money are not bad.  Indeed, Buddha taught that money can bring moral happiness – happiness in the owning and taking care of things, happiness in knowing one’s money was earned by a right livelihood – one that benefitted and does not harm humanity, happiness from not being in debt and happiness from sharing one’s wealth.  Prosperity, he taught, is a good thing if it is used wisely and rightly.

In that regard, any form of personal prosperity is good if it is used rightly.  If one is blessed with great intelligence, does one use it for the good of humanity or to do harm?  If one has great athletic ability, does one use that strength to help others or for selfish and narcissistic reasons?  What the Bible and Buddha both imply through their teachings is that having a surplus of money or of anything else are not bad.  What harms our souls is to love money, love our intelligence, beauty, or athleticism over and above a love for other people.  And that is a clear danger area for easy street living.  Do we come to love that which has brought us to easy street?  Or do we recognize an obligation and a soul necessity to use the prosperity for higher goals?

A Buddhist ethic for any form of prosperity is to do good.  “When you protect others,” the Buddha said, “you protect yourself.”  When we are living on easy street and find ourselves comfortable, the goal must be to live a balanced life.  One must not relate happiness with prosperity nor sadness to a lack of it.  We are called not to waste wealth but to use it wisely.  And, hoarding wealth for its mere accumulation is equally harmful to our souls – we learn to love what we unreasonably save.

The Buddha said there are three virtuous advantages to having prosperity.  First, one can assist and take care of friends and family.  He compared this to a beautiful lake with crystal clear waters that flows deep and teems with fish.  Such a lake lies next to a village and serves its people who draw from it to drink, bathe and eat.  Prosperity is also a safeguard against misfortune – the same as having enough water to put out a fire.  And, having wealth allows one the pleasure to give it to worthy charities and organizations.

To live a balanced and virtuous life when living on easy street, the Buddha urged people to practice sacrifice.  All people must practice some form of renunciation – to give up and sacrifice for the well being of others.  While the ethical ideal is to give up everything and live as a monk, the Buddha recognized this was not wise for all people.   Even so, all people must sacrifice, in some way, for others – through liberal giving, caring for one’s family or fellow beings, or volunteering time to strangers. These all require a sacrifice of money, time and talent.  Such sacrifices prevent us from falling in love with what has made us comfortable.  Indeed, sacrifice makes us uncomfortable, and that is a good thing.  We intuitively remind ourselves that while life might be easy one moment, it can turn difficult in a split second.

In my research for this message, I came across a story about one of the wealthiest men in America but one whom I doubt very many people know.  John Feeney made his fortune, estimated at over 8 billion dollars, by founding the Duty Free Shopping system.  Despite his massive wealth, this 80 year old man wears very cheap suits, he wears an old Timex watch, he uses a plastic bag for a briefcase and he lives in a cramped one bedroom reantal apartment in San Francisco.  Feeney was changed, he says, after reading Andrew Carnegie’s 1889 essay entitled “The Gospel of Wealth,” in which Carnegie admonishes the wealthy to use their money to help others and to “set an example of modest, unostentatious living and shun displays of wealth.”

In 1996, Feeney set up a foundation and proceeded to give it nearly all of his money.  Contrary to how most foundations are run which try and preserve wealth for as long possible – the better to enrich executive directors and board members,  Feeney structured his foundation so that it would give away all of the 8 billion dollars by 2016 and thus cease to exist.  Feeney’s favorite Irish proverb says this, “There are no pockets on death shrouds.”

Feeney refuses to allow so much as a plaque be placed in his honor at any location receiving his money.  He will not allow his name to be used in connection with his giving and it is a part of a contract with any recipient organization that if they disclose he is a benefactor, his money will stop.  ‘It doesn’t matter who paid for a building,” he says.  “The important thing is that it gets built.”  So far, he has given away nearly 4 billion dollars – mostly to biomedical research centers – but also to progressive causes like efforts to stop homophobia in Africa, lobbying efforts against the death penalty in New Jersey, medical supplies to Cuban doctors and money to support the Irish Republican Army political wing Sinn Fein.  His favorite charity is Operation Smile – an organization that provides free cleft lip and palate repair surgery to children around the world – one that I am proud to say my father served for several years as a surgeon.

Feeney recently agreed to allow a biography be written about him – one entitled “The Billionaire Who Wasn’t”.  His motivation to be more open is to try and nudge other wealthy individuals to share their wealth.  He likes to cite the fact that if the wealthiest 14,000 taxpayers in the country gave away only one-third of their annual income, that would amount to 61 billion dollars each year.  He cannot understand why those who have no need for more money continue to hoard it and will not give some of it away.  “Its not my role in life to tell rich people what they should be doing with their money,” Feeney says. “I’m just convinced if people gave money to things they’ve identified as being in the public interest, they’d get a great satisfaction out of it.”

For all of us – as mere mortals who are likely to never win a lottery or be worth 8 billion dollars, we can still find lessons in life for how to deal with material, financial, physical or emotional prosperity.  At those times when we are living large on easy street, Buddhist ethics sound convincingly wise.  Live in balance.  Refuse to derive happiness from prosperity.  Look, instead, for opportunities to find well-being and soul prosperity from giving, serving, loving, and growing.  Adversity will likely soon enough teach us its own lessons.

Our call, my friends, is to live under constant reminder that we are richly blessed.  No matter who we are or what we have in life, we have been given so much.  Yes we work, yes we seek wisdom, yes we strive to be humble.  But life itself is a gift, loved ones are like icing on top of our cakes, pleasures in life are cherries of satisfaction.  With all that we have, we truly must find ways to sacrifice for the sake of others.  And we must find ways to sacrifice for the sake of our own souls.  At the end, when we are beckoned into a beautiful eternity, may it be said that we each entered that journey with the wealthiest of souls.

I wish you all much peace, joy and a Happy Father’s Day.