Author: Doug Slagle

Message 89, “Finding Spiritual Truths from World Religions: Islamic Devotion”, 3-18-12

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

 

To listen to Doug’s message, click here.  To read the message, please see below.

 

There is a story often recited by Muslims of a man who chooses to locate his farm along the seacoast even though such lands are unpopular for farming.  Winds and regular storms can destroy crops and all of a farmer’s hard work.  But this particular farmer was determined to live and work by the sea.  As he then tried to hire helpers to assist him, he faced strong doubt and skepticism.  Person after person refused to be hired to work on his farm – the ocean storms are too unpredictable and too harsh they told him.

One day a man who was small in stature applied for the job as a farm hand.  The land owner doubted this man’s ability because he was so short.  “Are you a good farm hand?” the farmer asked.  “Well, I can sleep when the wind blows,” answered the little man.  This reply puzzled the farmer but he hired the man anyway since he had no other willing applicants.

As time went on, the short man proved to be an excellent assistant.  He was busy from dawn to dusk and he committed himself to the regular details of wise farming.  The land owner was very pleased.

Then one night a strong storm blew in from the sea.  The wind howled and threatened to tear down the farm house.  The owner rushed to the sleeping quarters of the farm hand and yelled, “Get up!  A storm is here.  You must tie things down before they all blow away.”

“No sir,” replied the farm hand.  “I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows.”

The farmer was enraged by this response and nearly fired the short man on the spot.  Instead, he hurried outside to do the work himself.  As he went around his fields and into his barn, he was amazed to find that all was well.  The haystacks had all been securely tied and covered with large sheets.  The sheep were all safely in their pens, the chickens in their coop, the doors and shutters all securely barred.  Nothing could blow away.

And then the farmer understood the words of his hired help – that he could sleep when the wind blows.  The farmer went back to bed himself, secure in the knowledge that his farm was safe.

The implied message of this story, for most Muslims, is that the hard work of their daily spiritual disciplines prepares a person for the storms of life.  It is not enough to seek the Divine when difficulties arise.  A life of devotion insures that one is spiritually, mentally and physically ready for inevitable life challenges.  When one secures himself or herself by finding spiritual peace in one’s soul, one can then meet – or sleep through – any storm.   As the prophet Muhammad once said, “Good conduct is a habit.  The most beloved of good deeds with Allah are those which are practiced with constancy over a long period of time…”

            And indeed, that is a hallmark of the Muslim faith.  When I think of one Islamic spiritual quality which would most benefit me (and there are many), I think of the constancy, the love and the devotion of Muslims.  Unlike many world religions, theirs is a faith not just of belief or orthodoxy, but of daily practice, or orthopraxy.  The very word Islam means “to submit”, and it is toward that goal that many Muslims dedicate their lives – to express devotion to Allah and to teachings of the Q’uran through daily practices of their faith.  Few other religions demand as much and few people of faith are so committed on an almost hourly basis.  Muslims finds meaning and purpose, therefore, not just by believing, but by doing.

What I advocate in this series on finding spiritual truths from world religions is not that we copy Buddhism or Islam or any other faith we will consider.  Instead, each offers us their own unique insights toward how we can improve our lives.  How can we enlarge our spiritual minds?  How can we practice particular ethics and ideals that help us improve ourselves and the world?  How can we learn from others – from all cultures, faiths and traditions?

Much like Buddhist contentment that we examined last Sunday, Islamic devotion is a spiritual ethic that is less about the mind than it is about the soul and the heart.   One incorporates a sense of devotion into one’s very being.   Muslims seek over their lifetimes to find rest and peace in love for Allah.  To attain such a spiritual place, Muslims rigorously devote themselves to the five foundational disciplines of their faith.  Those include five times a day prayer, annual giving to charity, annual fasting for Ramadan and at least a once in a lifetime pilgrimage to Mecca.

            For those of us who are not Muslim and perhaps not religious, how do we practice a meaningful form of devotion so that we might also reach a place of spiritual peace?  One way is to regularly connect with the Divine.  Muslims practice regular prayer or Salah, as they call it, as a way to reach outside of themselves.  Such prayer is performed five times a day, at set hours, always facing Mecca, and with meticulously prescribed procedures and words.  It is obligatory for the faithful Muslim no matter where they are or what they are doing.  Prayer, for Muslims, is not something done occasionally.  It is a daily habit which reminds them of their connection to and dependence on the Divine.  Indeed, the word “salah” means connection. 

Prayer reminds anyone, in subtle ways, that there is something beyond oneself, something greater and mysterious which connects one to all creation.  One need not believe that prayers beseech a supernatural being.   Prayer is simply a way to add thought and voice to the great mysteries of the universe – to the forces of love, healing, gratitude, and confession.  Giving voice to words of hope, love or forgiveness – whether we call that prayer or not – is a way to create peace in our minds.  Muslims use prayer to concentrate their minds on Allah.  Prayer is not for public consumption but solely for the individual to speak directly to the Divine.  It removes them, for a time, from the petty concerns of daily life.  As they say, prayer for a noble cause brings happiness in ways that allow them to forget their challenges or sufferings.  Prayer connects them to the beauty, wonder and awe in the universe.

Beyond prayer, Islam demands devotion in others ways as well.  Ramadan, the month long time of fasting and prayer, is another celebration of discipline.  Indeed, it is a culmination of a Muslim’s regular devotions – an extended time of forced practice which reminds one of sacrifice and humility before Allah.  By foregoing pleasure through fasting from food and pleasure, a Muslim engages in the higher goal of finding happiness in things outside of the body and mind – letting go of the ego and seeking insight, peace and joy in areas beyond the physical.

.  Instead of a one day celebration like Easter or Yom Kippur, Ramadan is purposefully extended in time and requires of Muslims a strong devotion to the entire celebration – no eating or other indulgences from dawn to dusk.  Such habits of fasting and prayer are a part of a Muslim’s identity.  These habits order their lives in ways that bring cohesion and organization around something beyond themselves.  Once again, we need not emulate these specific and rigorous religious practices.  Instead, any spiritual practice done on a regular and devoted basis brings order to our lives and helps us escape from self-focused thinking.

Indeed, Islamic devotional practices are performed not as robotic and mindless rituals.  Muslims use devotional practices like prayer to escape the physical and reach the transcendent.  Much like Buddhists seek contentment, Muslims pray, fast, give and worship to attain a more spiritual mindset.  Muslims claim that everything they do in life is done as an expression of love for the Divine One – for Allah.  One eats to acquire nourishment and energy so that one can serve the Divine.  One breathes to live and thus serve Allah.  One works to earn enough to give to the work of the Divine.  One sleeps, marries, plays and laughs all for the love of Allah.

For our sakes, we must learn to balance our rational thinking with spiritual introspection.  We do that through devotions like meditation and fasting.  Rationalism and logic too often prevent us from reflecting about mysterious and eternal truths.  Devotional practices – like what Muslims practice – force us to get out of the self – to stop the egotistical thinking that life revolves around the “me.”  As I often say in here, life is not about us.  We are to serve and love the larger world.

In that regard, the Muslim spiritual practice of zakat, or annual giving of charity to the poor, is a spiritual discipline that also reminds them of their connection to Allah.  It is a devoted way to again renounce the self.  Giving to organizations that serve the needs of the poor, hungry or homeless is a required practice.  Muslims devotedly give 2 . 5% of their annual gain from all sources – work, investments, property, gifts from others, whatever – to charities and Mosques that serve the poor.  For us, the regular discipline of giving – no matter the amount – is an additional way to find meaning and union with the spiritual ethic of love for others.

Islam also demands of its followers that they spiritually retreat to the Holy city of Mecca at least once in a lifetime. Travelling to a spiritual center of great beauty, peace and reflection is a way to remove one from the confined lives we often lead.  Determining to get away for a spiritual retreat – whether to the woods, a quiet lake, our own backyard or a spiritual place hundreds of miles away is a good devotional practice.  We go away to reflect.  We go and seek closeness with the mysteries of the universe.  We enlarge our souls by literally broadening our spiritual horizons.

To practice a daily spiritual discipline, we might choose meditation as a way to find peace.  We might pray each morning or evening in gratitude.  We might daily write in a prayer or dream journal about our hopes, fears and thoughts about life.  That is a practice which I regularly practiced for several years.  I look back at my journals and see past patterns of thinking and ways I have grown.  I am reminded of past struggles and how I emerged from them; how I have been blessed in ways that I should not take for granted.  I also see ways others emerged from difficult times I earlier prayed for in my journal.  Such journaling made me more aware of others, how I am weak and flawed, how I have grown over time and how blessed I really am.    They were a form of regular devotion that worked for me and which I plan to begin anew.

You might commit yourself to daily work for a charity and tangibly help other people. You might daily take a walk by yourself and use the time to ponder not your agenda, but the deeper stuff of meaning, purpose, gentleness and forgiveness.  Instead of quiet meditation at home, so-called walking prayer is a form of active reflection that works well for many people – if it is focused on spiritual matters.  Some people I know daily pray the news.  They read the newspaper and then take time to meditate on the many local and world concerns.  Such a practice awakens feelings of compassion, empathy and unity with others.  Some people practice yoga or Tai Chi and, once again, mindfully focus their thoughts not on the material world but on freeing the mind to be in love and at peace.  Others take annual retreats to reinvigorate their spiritual lives.  Whatever practice one chooses, a spiritually centered form of devotion – done regularly – is something to add to our lives.

I recently had a good conversation with a friend who confided that he was now determined to live and act according to his heart and not his brain.  What I understood him to mean is something we all want in life – to reach a place of perfect love for others, to feel that perfect love ourselves and thereby find real contentment.  In reaching for that goal, we too often try and satisfy selfish desires instead of finding the goal by letting go of the self.  I struggle so often to get out of my head and into my heart, thus finding the empathy and genuine compassion of my better angel.  It is easy to intellectually accept the premise of this message – that daily disciplined spiritual practice will help.  But that knowledge alone is ultimately unsatisfying for me and likely for you.

I have found, though, that when I actually do find a quiet place and deeply focus on mystery, on life, on death, on my failures, on my dreams of perfect peace, I am literally reduced to tears.  I experience an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the important things in life – dear and close friends, meaningful connection with others, my daughters, the empathy and pain I feel when others hurt, the mystery of why I was born and what my life will mean.  I need those deeply spiritual times and I see, from Muslim practice, that I can experience them regularly, much like they do.  I must discipline myself and my routine and make space in my life for such moments.

Islam is the second largest faith in the world.  It is the fastest growing.  Its success is partly explained by the devotion it requires.  For us, we can choose to be devoted to empty things in life – to money, work, play, and material things.  Or, we can devote ourselves to an enriching journey – to love others, to serve them, to connect with eternal mysteries – and thus discover the peace, love and joy we all so desperately desire.  If we practice just one spiritual devotion regularly, we will get what we want.  We will find union with all that is good, true and loving in the wider cosmos.

Message 88, “Finding Spiritual Truths from World Religions: Buddhist Contentment”, 3-11-12

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

Click here to listen to Doug’s message or see below to read it:

 

Perhaps many of you remember the Academy Award winning movie “Slumdog Millionaire” of 2008.  While the film is an uplifting rags to riches story of a young man who grew up in the slums of Mumbai, India, it also depicted one particularly horrifying side story.  A young orphan boy is blinded by a gang of criminals so that he can earn money for them by begging.  Sadly, the incidence of forced maiming of children in India and other nations around the world is more commonplace than we want to believe.

Recently, a man traveling through India personally witnessed a young mother give her three year old daughter a strong mix of milk and alcohol.  Once the child fell into a drunken sleep, the mother grabbed a meat cleaver, laid her daughter’s arm on a chopping block and, with one swing, cut the girl’s hand off.  The screams of the girl were piercing.  The mother tearfully and helplessly explained she had to do this.  It was the only way she could find to make money to feed her daughter.  The girl could now earn enough money through begging to avoid starvation.

This haunted and shaken man immediately went out to the nearest bakery and purchased all the loaves of bread that he could – nearly four hundred at approximately 25 cents apiece.  He drove a truck load of the loaves to a street corner and began handing them out to street kids.  Many loaves fell to the ground and were pounded into the dirt.  Even so, hungry and desperate children created a near riot in the clamor for free bread.

What desperation, he thought, could drive a mother to maim her own child?  What kind of hunger causes children to fight and scramble for pieces of dirty bread?  What do these stories say about the abundance of wealth and luxury in other parts of the world?

Gandhi’s words that the earth provides enough resources for every person’s needs but not for every person’s greed resonated with this man.  He has since learned to put his material desires into perspective – and to live according to a simpler ethic.  Today he works for a small community newspaper, supporting his family of four on about two thousand dollars a month.  He reports that his family has enough to eat, sufficient shelter and, fortunately, adequate health care.  He has the time to read and play with his children, cook with his wife and take their version of vacations by planning picnics at a nearby state park.  In comparison to the horrors he witnessed in India, he says he is rich in things and in happiness.

It is both difficult and inspiring to hear this man’s story.  What gives us happiness?  What brings us contentment?  Why do so many of us believe that the key to such feelings is through more money, more things and perfect relationships?  With each succeeding level of income, we tell ourselves we need more in order to really be happy.  With each new gadget, trinket or article of clothing we buy, we stimulate a brief trigger of happiness only to lose interest in the item and want something else.  We often complain about our boring lives or find fault in those we love or those who are friends – choosing to see the few flaws instead of the beautiful and good.  We often desire in all areas of life bigger, better, perfect, more.  For most of us, in the midst of great plenty – friends, money, food, family, love, sex and success, we are still starving much like that poor and desperate young mother in Bangladesh.  We tell ourselves we are happy and content and yet, are we really?  Why do our lives seem to be an endless cycle of desire and discontent with things, events, money and people?  We are addicts in a constant search for a happiness fix – while the source of real and lasting contentment is so near and yet so very far.

According to Buddhist beliefs, our cravings and desires make us unhappy.  They are the source – the ultimate root – of our suffering and only through letting go and not craving in the first place will we find inner peace and contentment.  This singular aspect of Buddhist spirituality is one I find particularly appealing – and one that resonates in many western and developed cultures – places where materialism has become almost a religion.  The endless desire for external sources of happiness can leave us unfulfilled, empty and jealous of what we don’t have but believe we need.  In our culture we have bought into what the late Duchess of Windsor infamously said, “You can never be too rich or too thin.”

Discontent can take many forms.  It usually means not being satisfied with the present things, experiences or people in our lives.  One’s partner may not do things the way we would like.  There are tiny flaws in him or her we wish to change.  Our homes may not be big enough or beautiful enough.  Our jobs may have become a bit of a chore – boring, difficult or lacking excitement.  Our bodies have aged and we are no longer a fit and trim 20 year old.  The ways we find pleasure – reading, listening to music, going to movies, visiting with friends, engaging in sex, travelling – may also seem no longer exciting.  And so we are discontented.  We yearn for more or better or different.  We implicitly tell ourselves that our lives could be better because things are not good enough or sufficient enough.

But how do we find and then practice genuine spiritual contentment?  How do we inhabit that sense of being truly content – at rest and at peace with the present circumstances of our life, health, family, friends, homes, living standards and entertainment?  Indeed, Buddhists say that it is not enough just to deny ourselves the things we want in an attempt to live simply.  We must empty our minds of most desires so that we neither crave nor feel we are being denied.  Living a contented life is not by force of mental will – a practice where one sacrifices for one’s own good.  Contentment is a spiritual way of life, a way of being that is fully integrated into one’s thoughts and actions.  To be genuinely content is to acquire a spiritual mystery that is elusive and difficult to achieve.  As many Buddhists say, one lives out the ethic that the basics of life are “good enough”, “well enough” and “just this much.”

In that regard, Buddhists have unfairly been criticized for allegedly teaching the poor, marginalized and sick that they must accept their present station in life.  This is not the case.  Contentment comes from having one’s basic needs met and it is a strong part of Buddhist practice to have compassion for those who lack the basics.  It is the negative mindset of craving that Buddhists say perpetuates suffering and this is true for all people – rich and poor.  Those who find peace, find wealth.  They are not depressed, weary or jealous.   And that state of being, say Buddhists, leads to the state of being that is genuinely content.  Those who are at peace, help others.  Helping others encourages others to return the help.  Those who are not depressed practice attitudes like hard work and compassion which further insures that one’s basic needs will be met.

Buddhists therefore do not tell anyone to simply be content in difficult situations.  Rather, the teaching is to look for the source of unhappiness.  Ultimately, the source of discontent is regretting an action or event in the past that caused a present difficulty or alleged shortage.  One then desires a future where the supposed difficulty is wiped away.  Instead, Buddhists believe that if one is at peace in the present moment, a solution to any problem is usually found.  This belief echoes something obvious that all of us know but fail to remember.  We cannot change the past.  We cannot determine the future.  The ONLY period in life we can directly affect is the present.  And in the present, in the right now, we can be content if we so choose.

You might at this very moment begrudge the fact that you are here and listening to me.  There might be a thousand other things you could be doing that you believe would be more enjoyable.  But the fact is, you are here and you cannot change whatever happened that brought you here.  So, by choosing to make the best of the moment – to be thankful for the person next to you, for the good coffee you have had, for the small nugget of wisdom you might obtain, for the simple pleasure of sitting, resting and contemplating, you can be content and at peace.  And that will lead, if added to other moments of contentment, to a mind and soul that is always at peace.  As the Buddha once said, “The mind is everything.  What you think, you become.”

If we are to find contentment, implicit in that, according to Buddhists, is being mindful of how one thinks each and every moment of life.  We must be aware of our cravings and then let go of them.  To be aware that we are craving something, we must ask why we want a particular thing.  Do we really need what we want or is it simply a part of our negative nature to always want something newer and supposedly better?  If we truly examine our thoughts, we realize that the root cause of wanting something new or different is not being content with what we already have.  As the Dalai Lama once said, “Not getting what we want is often a wonderful stroke of luck.” 

Can we – in any moment of desire or craving – say to ourselves that what we have in that moment is good enough?  If so, we will be content.  We will be happy with the journey of our lives – each contented second turning into hours which turn into days which turn into years which build a contented life.  One will have found contentment in their very essence and being.

Buddhists do not aspire to specific goals of achievement or acquisition.  Goals are a form of craving.  Rather, Buddhists appreciate moment by moment living.  The journey is what brings happiness.  Not the end.  Ironically, if we let go of desiring a specific goal or thing, we usually end up attaining it anyway.

Such a truth, however, does not mean we are passive in life – sitting in some meditative lotus position and waiting for blessings to fall into our laps.  We live, work, love and meet daily challenges as a means to acquire only what we need to live in simplicity – food to nourish our bodies, shelter to protect us from the elements, clothing to warm us and provide social decency, health care to address illness.  When good fortune gives us more than we need, we should give generously to those who live in true poverty – persons who lack the basics.

When we seek beyond what we really need, we make ourselves unhappy.  We yearn for what we cannot afford, cannot have or do not need.  If we do satisfy a craving, we end up worrying about maintaining and protecting it.  As we all know, bigger and better things create bigger worries.  How can I keep a big house clean?  How will I protect that new I-Phone I just bought?  How will I not get sick and be safe on my vacation?  How will I adjust to a partner who changes, or to a different friend?  With simple things, events and desires in our lives, we often eliminate our worries.

Achieving real contentment is, as I have said, a spiritual process over a lifetime.  It is not a one-time decision.  We live it out moment by moment.  We live it out by mindfully examining why we desire a new gadget, new experience or changed partner and then choosing to be truly happy with what we already have.  We mindfully choose to be grateful.   We love and accept people in our lives as they are – not as we wish them to be.  We appreciate their goodness and the beauty they give.   We practice regular appreciation for all whom we encounter – offering a smile, a hug, a word of thanks – to the waitress, the clerk, the stranger.  We replace the complex with simplicity:  a trip to the park, a nourishing meal at home prepared with a partner, time with a friend, a good book, meditation.  We practice giving and sharing instead of desiring and receiving.  Compassion to all.  Service to others.  Empathy.  Nurture.  Caring.  By remembering the needs of others we forget our own cravings.  The more we focus on the needs of others, the more we find our own sense of contentment.

In this series on finding spiritual truths from world religions, I believe contentment is near the top of any such list.   As a way of life, it is not easy to practice.  Being at peace – truly living in contentment – requires continuous heart and mind surgery.  To say that being content is difficult does not mean it is not worth our effort.  Our sufferings can often be so painful and yet we know how they might end and we each have the ability to cure them.  I have hurt at the pain of loneliness, the pain of broken relationships, the pain of losing friends, the pain of watching my parents age, the pain of life change and work challenges.  But those hurts are all products of my thinking.  I am on a personal quest to be at more peace in my life and thus find real happiness.  I still have a long, long way to go.  That journey begins inside of me and how I think and act towards myself and others.  Ultimately, I want to be content – in the quiet and good place of who and where I am in each moment of my life.

We are all loving souls who are richly blessed.  We have so very much.  May we be grateful.  May we live with sufficiency.  May we offer love.  May we practice compassion.  May we serve others.  May we be at peace………………..I wish that for all of us in our search for lasting joy.

Message 87, Finding Spiritual Truths from World Religions: What is Spirituality?  3-4-12

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

 

To listen to the message, click here.  To read the message, read below.

 

Nearly sixteen years ago, on May 3rd 1996, I had what many call a born again experience.  Confused about who I was as a person, feeling shame at the knowledge of my hidden gay feelings, and having recently begun attending church, I gave my life to Jesus Christ.  Or so I thought.  As a direct result of that experience, I left my job in the business world, attended seminary, became an associate Pastor and eventually discovered the Gathering – bringing me to my work today.

While I no longer consider myself born again, nor a believer in Jesus as the Savior Christ, I know that moment back in 1996 was a pivot point.   I became a new person – one who is focused on spiritual matters, who enjoys Pastoral work and who no longer sees the world and life in mostly self-centered ways.  I experienced what I still believe was a sublime and very spiritual awakening.  I felt a connection with something greater than myself.

It would be easy for me to now trivialize that moment and chalk it up to issues regarding psychological feelings of low self-worth and shame.  But it was far more than that.  I was changed as a person and who I am today is a direct result of that epiphany.

I remember my first Sunday at church after that moment.  I took communion as the organ played “Just as I Am”.   The Pastor taught that I was consuming the body and blood of Christ – sacrificed specifically for my sake.  I remember thinking about that and being overwhelmed with gratitude.  Tears streamed down my face.   I could not imagine a love so great that one would willingly die for my misdeeds.  In that moment – and others like it – I felt the immense and unconditional love of the Divine.  It was other-worldly, profound and very powerful.  I have never before or after felt such a feeling of being loved.  I was no longer a hideous man with terrible same sex attractions, I was no longer a hurting person afraid of the wider world, I was no longer the unwanted son to my dad, I was a beloved child of the Divine.  I was whole and complete and free.  The myth of a god dying for my sins affected me deeply.

While I no longer believe what I believed at the time – about a savior Christ – I don’t discount the reality of my experience.  Indeed, people who have spiritual experiences are usually changed.  Whether it be from a prayer at the Jewish wailing wall, a Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca, a glimpse of Nirvana in meditation, watching a sunset over a mountain range or listening to a beautifully performed piece of music, the result is the same – a changed heart, soul and conscience.  The facts of the spiritual moment do not matter as much as the experience itself.  There are few times in our lives when we connect with something beyond ourselves – something beautiful, joyous and unexplainable.  But when we do, no longer are we alienated islands drifting alone in a vast universe.  Suddenly, we sense a mysterious union with forces outside of ourselves.  It is almost as if – in those rare spiritual moments – we touch the face of God, see heaven or attain Nirvana.

These transcendent moments are when indescribable thoughts about life, meaning, purpose, beauty and joy all merge together.  They are not easily described nor can they be written off as emotional or delusional episodes.  They are real.  They are spiritual.  From such other-worldy experiences, from the reading of religious texts or the practice of religious rituals, people are spiritually enlightened as they discover new understanding of life and purpose.  Spirituality provides wisdom in how to live and how to be a better person.  We connect with the great mystery, the ultimate Truth, and we yearn to live according to such perfection.

I want to embark with you over the next two months on a spiritual journey to find useful and unique qualities in world religions – ones that we can use in our lives.  From Buddhism to Christianity, we’ll look at one quality from each world faith that will help us grow not by head knowledge but by soul wisdom.  I hope to move beyond the facts of varied religious expressions and look to mystical but very useful spiritual qualities.  Before beginning that journey next Sunday when we look at Buddhist contentment, I want to explore today the simple question – what is spirituality?

Karen Armstrong, in her book “The Case for God” describes the cave paintings at Lascaux, France – the ones painted by the first humans living thirty thousand years ago.  The cave paintings are not easily accessible.  Most are miles underground and are reached only through very narrow passages.  What these paintings depict are beautiful scenes of ancient animals and humans.  Many seem to dance and even run across the walls when illuminated with flickering fire light.   Animals that do not mix with each other in nature are depicted together.  Humans are shown interacting with, hunting and worshipping the animals.  In one painted scene, a man lies before a charging bison with a pole nearby that has a bird’s head on it.  The man, despite the danger he is in, is sexually aroused.  In a carved scene from one of the walls, a very pregnant woman holds aloft a ram’s horn – pointing it toward a crescent moon.  Her other hand rests atop her large stomach.

While anthropologists, art historians and other experts struggle to interpret the paintings, it is clear that these were not random drawings.  They served a function.  They were visual representations of how that neolithic culture could understand their harsh world.  Animals were given prominence in that society as they were the means to survive.  They were the worshipped saviors of that culture.

The prostrate man was likely a shaman or priest performing an act of worship  – the bird’s head on a pole symbolically allowed him to fly in spirit with the bison, his arousal indicating union with the natural world.  The pregnant female carving was likely a piece of fertility art.  The ram’s horn represented male virility and the crescent moon was symbolic of a woman’s monthly cycle.  These pieces of art were ways by which ancient humans made sense of the unexplainable – why life exists, to what purpose does creation serve and how we, as humans, should respond to the great forces of the universe.

The Lascaux paintings and carvings, seen by many as the first great works of art, were clearly spiritual in nature.  They point to the innate hunger by humankind to make sense of the universe.  As Karen Armstrong says, humans should be described as “homo religious” – spirituality is so ingrained in our being.

Many of the Lascaux scenes, as I said, would not normally occur – animals mixing with dissimilar species or humans enacting the rituals that I just described.  They offer, however, a window into the spiritual thoughts of these early humans.  The art works were thus not literal representations of actual life but symbolic and mythological ways to explain the unexplainable – What purpose do we serve?  What lies beyond the physical realm and inhabits the unknown dimension of creation, death and eternity?  In their mystical way, the paintings tell us that early humans believed what we believe – all creation is interconnected through a mystical and all encompassing common link – that of the great mysterious force which controls the universe.  The Lascaux art were Scripture for ancient humans.

Karen Armstrong points out in her book that humans have always used myth – in visual, spoken or written form – to explain the unknowable.  And that is one essence of spirituality.  Myth, symbolism and spiritual art create meaning and purpose for us.  The Lascaux people did not believe the scenes they painted were real.  Rather, they were symbolic ways to worship, understand and find comfort.

For us, spirituality involves seeking after ultimate Truth – just as all humans do.  It involves searching for an explanation to the great “Mysterium”, as some call it.  In the contemporary battle between science and myth, between logos and mythos, our culture has mostly broken into extremes.  On one side are the religious fundamentalists and on the other side are the rationalists.  Do we literally believe the religious stories of our time – the Bible, Q’uran, Torah and Veda?  Or has science made them irrelevant?

I propose that, as I have said several times, truth lies somewhere in the middle.  Science explains much of the known universe.  It provides the knowledge by which we live, prosper and survive.  But myth, superstition and spirituality are not poor step-sisters to science in their ability to also explain the universe.  We need both reason and myth.

Can reason and dispassionate observation explain the intricacies of love?   No.  But, does the Biblical story – a Jesus parable – of the prodigal son offer a glimpse of what love is?  I firmly believe it does.  Such love is the stuff of mystery which only spiritual examination can explain.  I experienced feelings of unconditional love when I had my epiphany.  I have felt it towards my daughters – perhaps the only two people for whom I would willingly die.  Most of us have that form of love in one way or another.  How do we explain that?  Where does such a feeling come from?  Ideals like unconditional love are mysteries not solvable by science or reason.  We use spiritual myths, rituals, prayer, and other practices to find insight into such goodness.

And that is a hallmark of spirituality.  Not only does it seek to explain the unexplainable, it is a journey toward ultimate Truth.  We never arrive at that point and a spiritual person understands he or she never will.  Indeed, to arrive at a spiritual conclusion, as many religions do, is to cease being spiritual.  If the great Mysterium – or God – is unknowable, how can we describe it – as some do?  We might describe glimpses of its nature and we might continue to discover its nuances – like forgiveness, love, gratitude, peace, gentleness, etc, but those are incomplete descriptions.

And that gets to the difference between religion and spirituality.  Religions have arrived at what their believers assert are absolute conclusions regarding the nature of the Divine.  Spirituality is, instead, a journey into discovering pieces of the Divine while knowing we will never understand its full essence.  Those who are spiritual are like persons who assemble puzzles – only this puzzle is infinite.  Indeed, we are each fumbling mystics searching into unknown realms for ephemeral puzzle pieces.  Great prophets like Jesus showed us such pieces.  That was the greatness of Jesus – not that he was God but that he pointed TO God.  He taught, described, and showed us glimpses of the great Mysterium – a force of immense love and justice.

And yet, today I call myself an A-theist.  I do not believe in a “theistic” being – a great “THE”.  That makes me NON-theistic.  I am, however, a strong believer in spirituality.  While the great Mysterium might be an actual Being like God, I have found no compelling proof telling me that.  And so I search.  I explore and study the ideals and ethics that offer glimpses of the Divine.  This is the spiritual path.  It is a way of question and discovery.  How can I be more loving of others and of self?  How can I live in gratitude?  How can I learn to forgive?  How can I be compassionate, giving, gentle and peaceful?  How can I discern what is just in the world and then work for it?  If I discover such things and then practice them, I believe I am in greater touch with Ultimate Truth – that which is perfect and totally good.

The Genesis Bible stories are not literal history about creation but instead efforts to explain our origins and our call to be grateful for the existence we share.  The Resurrection of Jesus is likewise not actual history but a story of renewal – one that tells us it is never too late to change for the better.  We dimly see the Divine because of these spiritual stories and myths.

Science and spirituality, therefore, are not in conflict.  Science informs us the HOW of things – facts regarding the way the universe works.  Spirituality describes the WHY of things – the meaning, purpose and insight regarding our universe.

I recently read in the New York Times how many Shiite Muslims in the Middle East believe that the civil war in Syria is the predicted start of the Apocalypse.  In Shiite ancient lore, a follower of the devil named Sufyani begins a war against Shia Muslims which will usher in a global apocalyptic war that results in the end of earth as we know it.

For any of you who are familiar with the Biblical book of Revelation, that scenario sounds very familiar.  Indeed, many Christian fundamentalists believe President Obama is the Anti-Christ since that figure is described in Revelation as swarthy in complexion who seeks to rule the world by preaching peace while amassing power through international cooperation.  Without getting into politics, these fundamentalists believe Revelation to be predicted history and current events are proving it correct.

What we should learn from these examples – and there have been hundreds of similar predictions throughout history – is not to take ancient myth literally.  This does NOT mean, however, that the stories have no value.  Indeed, they do.  I believe the original writers of such myths intended to reassure their readers that in a difficult world where they faced hatred and persecution, all is not lost.  This painful world does not have to stay as it is.  Caring and spiritual people working together can restore earth to an Eden-like paradise.  The myths were not written to be literal predictions but allegories that enlighten, comfort and give meaning to humankind.

And that is exactly how we should approach such myths and why they are valuable even to those who are not religious.  That is why I often state that the human purpose is to help build heaven on earth – to create the kind of paradise that we ought to have.  Almost all world religions envision a return to a perfect earth.  Nobody should accept a world of disease, hatred, injustice and poverty.  As people, our spiritual purpose is to work against those conditions and promote the universal conditions we all hope for – peace, love, compassion, and well-being.

We are fortunate to worship in a place like the Gathering.  It is why even I lean away from calling us an explicitly Christian church.  We value Christian teachings and often look to them for insight – mostly because they are familiar from our past and our culture.  But, we are a spiritual gathering of people who seek, explore and ask questions of all world religions and many other beliefs as well.  We refuse to believe that any person can know Ultimate Truth but that as humans, we still hunger for insight into that great Mysterium.  We are like those very ancient neolithic humans who looked out into a confusing world and asked that eternal question “Why am I here?”

And that, my friends, sums up what I believe spirituality to be.  It is a journey into the unknown and ethereal realms.  But it is not a wasted journey.  We will never arrive at a final answer but along the way we will see wondrous glimpses of Paradise in the making, and how we can be good and decent citizens in that blessed place.

 

 

Message 86, “The Gathering Goes to the Movies: ‘Red Tails’ – Genuine Courage”, 2-19-12

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

 

Watch ‘Red Tails’ Trailer

Click here to listen to Doug’s Sunday message or see below to read it.

 

In the summer of 1917, the United States had just declared war on Germany.  In order to mobilize its forces, the US instituted a draft.  Many did not wait to be drafted and volunteered instead.  Over two million African-American men registered for that draft.  367,000 were accepted.

In a form of reverse discrimination, especially in the South, WWI draft boards eagerly accepted African-Americans in order to fill their quotas.  Many southern draft boards refused to offer exemptions to black men with families and farms while they routinely did so for whites.

While the Army was more progressive in its treatment of African-American soldiers, Jim Crow was alive and well.  Segregation and discrimination were the rule.  Black soldiers were often housed in tents instead of permanent barracks.  They were issued old Civil War uniforms and rifles and were assigned non-combat roles mostly serving the needs of white troops.

In 1918, however, with a potential catastrophe at the front lines in France, African-American troops were sent into combat – under French command, since US forces refused them.  The 92nd combat division, comprising all black soldiers, fought at the decisive battle of Argonne and was kept at the front lines for six months – far longer than for other troops.

Despite initial setbacks due to poor equipment and a lack of effective coordination with French tactics, the 92nd was instrumental in breaking German front lines.  After suffering over 5,000 combat deaths and winning several battles, the 92nd was awarded the French “Croix de Guerre” medal for its courage and success.

Expecting to return home as heroes – like other American forces – the 92nd instead faced 26 white racial riots against them.  Whites feared these African-American soldiers with guns – believing they would start a revolution.  Many were forced to quickly leave the military, others were attacked, some were lynched and killed – ten of them while in uniform.  They fought for their country but were then killed by their own countrymen.

Despite the distinguished record of African-American forces in World War One, the US War College issued the following statement in 1925, only 87 short years ago, “Black men are very low in the scale of human evolution; the cranial cavity of the Negro is smaller than the white and his brain weighs less.  Blacks are mentally inferior to the white man, by nature subservient, cowardly, and therefore unfit for combat.”  (forgive me for uttering such words)

This quote is cited in the opening frame to the movie “Red Tails”, a film depicting the historic efforts of an all black pilot squadron in World War Two.  It served as the guide for military attitudes toward African-Americans for over twenty years.  It highlights the culture of racism against which black airmen and soldiers had to fight.

The pseudo-science, racism and lies embodied in that War College report were decisively proven false by the exploits of black soldiers in World War Two.  The courage demonstrated by the fighter pilots in the historically accurate movie “Red Tails” is ample evidence.

As much as that fact alone is inspirational to us, I found a more subtle message in the film to be an even greater lesson for me.  It took courage to strap oneself into a cockpit protected by only a thin plastic canopy and fly off to fight other planes equipped with machine guns ready to rip one apart.  More importantly, however, it took courage to daily face the kind of hatred and bigotry black officers and soldiers experienced.  Such episodes are well depicted in the film.  It took even more courage to press their case and insist they were every bit as brave, intelligent and capable as any other man or woman.

And that insistence to be allowed to fight is clearly shown in the film.  The Tuskegee Fighter Squadron, named after the only pilot training school open to African-Americans – at Tuskegee, Alabama, faced prejudice at all levels, as high as the top generals in the Pentagon.

Just as happened in World War One, blacks in World War Two were routinely assigned roles as support personnel – those who cooked and cleaned for white troops.  While over 2 million African-Americans served in WWII, only 50,000 served in combat.  In a particularly humiliating role, black soldiers were assigned as guards over German prisoners.  But, in the cafeterias, churches and other locations at the prison camps, black guards were not permitted to share the same benefits as their white prisoners.  The irony of African-Americans not being given the same rights as racist, Nazi German prisoners is extreme.

And the Tuskegee airmen were treated no differently.  Despite their training as fighter pilots, the squadron was issued old and slow airplanes.  Their role was to provide defense in areas far behind the front lines.  Blacks were deemed incapable of bravery.

Can we imagine, however, the courage it would take to not only be willing to face death but to also face the kind of discrimination which believes you to be inferior?  The kind of bigotry that humiliates you and taunts you?  The kind of demeaning attitudes which assign you to poor conditions and ineffective equipment?  Such courage to publicly speak out and insist on one’s own rights – as well as for the rights of others – is of a greater courage in my mind.  It is a moral courage to which we are called to follow in our own lives.   And that courage by the Red Tail officers and airmen paved the way for future equal rights in our armed services – even providing the moral foundation for the recent permission of openly gay and lesbian soldiers to serve.  The symbol which the Red Tails squadron used during the war was a double V insignia – two V’s for victory.  One against Germany.  The second against discrimination.

In the face of racism, the officers of the Red Tails squadron tirelessly fought for the opportunity of their men to prove their ability.  In several situations which are depicted in the film, they are finally given that chance.  Tuskegee fighter pilots were instrumental in the success of the Allied landing at Anzio beach in Italy – the first invasion of occupied Europe.  They went on to provide crucial air protection to bombers on their way to Germany.  On raids in which they provided defense, not a single bomber was ever lost.  Commanders soon began requesting Red Tails coverage.  Sixty-six Tuskegee pilots were killed in combat in World War Two – out of only a few hundred who had been trained and allowed to fly.

Just as we found in the last two movies we considered for this monthly series looking at current popular films, “Red Tails” offers us spiritual lessons we would be wise to learn.  As a depiction of the fight for human equality, the film is another good one in that historic record.  But it is the ethic of moral courage, implicit in the film,  that resonates for us.  While I cannot begin to identify with the pain and humiliation of racism, I can understand and learn from the basic human ethic of having moral courage –  especially against majority opinions.  Such courageous actions often put one in both physical danger as well as emotional and psychological danger.

Someone with moral courage confronts an immoral status quo.  He or she protests against something which many others support.  One acts in the face of widespread “groupthink” – majority attitudes of indifference to or even support of a moral wrong.  Christians like Corrie Ten Boom who opposed Nazi discrimination against Jews is one example.  Rosa Parks standing up against Jim Crow laws is another.  Straight allies who speak out in support of gay men and women are another.  It takes courage to stand alone, or in a very small minority, and cry out against immorality.

Recently, an Islamic cleric in Iran claimed that morality is a relative idea and that Islamic morality should not be judged.  This was said in response to protest against Iran’s execution by stoning of a woman caught in adultery – while the man in question was simply jailed.

What this cleric advocated is a type of moral relativism which is indefensible.  Not all so called morals are universal but there is, as we have discussed numerous times in here, one moral standard.  While all  religious and cultural beliefs should be respected and honored – freedom on conscience throughout the world is a basic human right – I assert there is one universal moral principle in our world – that of the golden rule or law or reciprocity.  Contrary to the opinion of that Iranian official, the Koran even says one is to seek for mankind what one seeks for oneself.  All world religions assert a version of this ethic.  Treat others as you wish to be treated.  Love others as you love yourself.

Any law, tradition or cultural practice which does harm to or hinders the basic human rights of another human – in a manner that would be unjust to any person – is a moral and spiritual wrong.  In this sense, it takes moral courage to protest such immorality.  Jesus defied prevailing religious legal attitudes that put ritual and doctrine ahead of compassion, decency and equal treatment.  He was morally courageous in opposing religious elites and leaders of his time.  The prophet Muhammad praised moral courage over violence.  He said, “ A man who defends his family and lands does so out of duty, whereas a man of courage is one who does not renounce his life of virtue……in the face of violence.”  As a Hindu, Gandhi courageously advocated non-violence even when his Indian countrymen insisted that physically fighting against oppression is the only way to succeed.

Indeed, while we praise the types of physical courage that it takes to put oneself in harms way – to fly a fighter plane, to serve on the front lines in any war, to charge into a burning skyscraper to rescue others – we often overlook or diminish moral courage.  Mark Twain once said, “It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.”

It took moral courage against injustice by the founding fathers to declare our nation’s independence.  It took moral courage for Sojourner Truth, an African-American slave, to speak in favor of equal rights for blacks and women.  It took moral courage for black soldiers in the Civil War, World War One, World War Two and the Korean war to assert their right to serve equally.  It took moral courage for Rosa Parks to refuse to move to the back of the bus, for Martin Luther King, Jr. to take up her cause and be jailed as a result, for the Little Rock nine – African-American High School students – to walk past armed guardsmen and jeering white crowds to attend an all white school, for four young black men to sit at an all white lunch counter in Greensboro, South Carolina and refuse to move, for Patricia Banks to sue United Airlines insisting on equal opportunity to work as a flight attendant – the first African-American to so serve, and for Michael Gunn, just last summer, to file suit against – and refuse to ignore – an Ohio landlord who posted a sign reading “Public Swimming Pool – Whites Only” after his bi-racial daughter had swam in the apartment pool.

What acts of moral courage do we stand for in our lives?  I am humbled in the presence of moral courage in this very room.  It takes moral courage to fight and work for higher quality in a largely black school district, to advocate for animal rights, to speak out for prisoners and those condemned to die, to publicly identify, as a straight person, in solidarity with gays and lesbians, to counsel and treat sex offenders, to lead a life of quiet humility, good cheer and service to others while battling significant health challenges, to proclaim a female identity when you were born with a man’s body, to assert with pride that you are gay or lesbian, to battle, as a woman, against a patriarchal and sexist culture, to quietly work with homeless teens, underprivileged children and others on the margins of life.

Just recently, I was told of a member in this congregation who is being attacked for having spoken out against racism.  This member was publicly identified and the person’s picture was even displayed in print and on the internet.  When I first saw this, I felt sorry for our member.  While I am still sympathetic and very supportive, I also now feel great pride that this morally courageous person attends the Gathering and that all of you, like this person, are willing to publicly identify yourselves as also morally courageous – those unafraid to stand for justice, equality and compassion.

A few weeks ago I received a piece of hate e-mail attacking me for being a “fag Pastor at a faggot loving church.”  This person did not identify himself or herself but proceeded to cite the standard Bible passages about homosexuality and then told me that while I am already going to hell, it will be even worse for me because I am leading others to hell through my messages.  At first, I was alarmed and fearful of the hate behind this note.  As time has gone on, though, I refuse to give in to my fears.  I will choose love over fear.  I am proud to be known as a gay Pastor.  I am proud to be a Pastor of an open, affirming, caring, diverse, and loving congregation.  I am proud to be publically identified as such.  In this small way, I too can stand with moral courage in the face of hate, bigotry and lies.

What we learn from “Red Tails” – that which we already know but need reminder – is to continue our stand for the dignity and rights of all men, women and created beings.  As Martin Luther King, Jr. put it, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”  Equal to that ideal are the words of William Shakespeare, “Cowards die a thousand deaths……….the valiant taste death but once.”

Calvin Moret, one of the last surviving members of the Red Tails squadron, recently said, “I want people to remember that Tuskegee airmen were Americans. That they were serving this country as valiantly as any other service men who ever lived — or who died. There were 66 black American Tuskegee airmen who didn’t make it back here.  They are heroes for all time.”

May each of us seek to be equal to their example.  May we always strive to be morally courageous heroes in our time.

 

I wish you all much peace and even more joy…

 

 

 

Message 85, “The Gathering Goes to the Movies: ‘The Artist’ – Choosing Love Over Fear”

 

Watch ‘The Artist’ Trailer

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

Click here to listen to Doug’s Sunday message or see below to read:

 

In my research for this message, I read a story about a woman named Cynthia Daley who was among 1500 people laid off from a large utility in the small town of Rainier, Oregon.  The shock and fear in Cynthia  and her colleagues was extreme.  Many employees had worked for the company for over thirty years.  They knew no other life and many doubted that they had transferable skills to help them find new work in a difficult economy.  Cynthia, however, decided she would use her remaining thirty days at work to help others.  She began publishing a short guide that was distributed to laid off employees on how to save money.  She researched ways to find low cost insurance plans, how to do simple car repairs and ways to save on household expenses.  As her paper grew in size, employees began asking her for advice in their job searches.  She counseled individuals in writing resumes and in articulating skills that could be used in other jobs.  Her actions were so noteworthy, the company asked if she would stay on and work in their human resources department.  She accepted but she continued writing her paper which soon caught the attention of the local college.  They asked her to teach a course for the unemployed which she also did.  Her knowledge, her willingness to help individuals one on one, and her encouragement not to give up has led her to a full time faculty position and to becoming a well paid consultant hired by companies across the country to assist laid off employees.

What interested me in this story is its inspirational example of resilience by this woman and her goal to serve and love others.  This same ethic gives the movie “The Artist” its emotional power.  It has received widespread acclaim because of its feel good call to overcome fear and hardship and allow love to prevail.

What each of us has learned in life is that we all face daily challenges in which we must make choices on how to react.  Many such challenges are big ones.  Whether it be from a loss of financial security, loss of a job, health problems or challenges in our romantic relationships, we are assaulted throughout our lives with trauma and change.

This truth about life was best expressed by the philosopher John Simone who once said, “If you’re in a bad situation, don’t worry, it will change.  If you are in a good situation, don’t worry, it will change.”

While such an assessment of life is pessimistic, it is also true.  Change is inevitable and we often have no control over events that confront us.  What we can control, however, is our response to them.  Indeed, I believe that it is not the change event that causes us pain – like a major economic recession, the break-up of a relationship or the loss of a job, it is how we respond to that event that determines whether we sink or swim, whether we find happiness or live in fear.

And that, my friends, gets to the essential truth for how we might live. Oprah Winfrey once said, “I believe that every single event in life happens as an opportunity to choose love over fear.”  Those are the two primary emotions or approaches to life that we can choose to follow when faced with a problem.  We either live in fear, or we live in love.

Which brings us to the movie “The Artist” – whose trailer we just watched.  On this Sunday eve to Valentine’s Day, it is an appropriate film for us to consider.  As a creative and beautifully made film which takes us back to the silent movie days of the 1920’s, “The Artist” is, at its heart, a love story that is both charming and spiritually instructive.  Without using words, the movie tells its story with great acting and relies on facial expression, body language, music and sight gags to weave its tale and ultimately inspire.

As a cinematic valentine to old Hollywood, the movie is also a valentine to us.  It offers the spiritual wisdom of which I just spoke.  Despite the vagaries of life, despite the heartache, the pain and the challenging circumstances which daily confront us, how do we choose to live?  Are we inspired by our better angels to also take wing and fly – to embrace love of others, love of serving and love of making an impact in this world?  Or, do we succumb to the fears of life, the fear to change, to experience something new, or to embark on a new adventure?  Fear or love, what do we choose?

As a movie, “The Artist” tells its story of how the choices we make in our approach to life affect our happiness.  It also embodies that very theme.  I have heard many people say they have no desire to see this film – once they hear it is a silent movie.  It will be boring, some say.  Indeed, in a culture that often thrives on constant talking and even on shouting at one another, how can a simple picture with no words be entertaining?  The movie, however, embraces its change theme by being a change agent itself.  It pays homage to something which seems old – silent movies – but which, in reality, is new to us.  The old has become new and the so-called new – modern cinema – has become old.

By implicitly rejecting the loud bombast of current films with their explosions and special effects, this movie shows us a simpler, quieter and deeper understanding of the human condition.  It offers us change with a dose of love.  It calls us to watch, think, feel, and listen with our hearts.

George Valentin, the main character, is a silent movie star, worshipped by millions.  As a likable narcissist, he lives in his own world of fame, money and his constant sidekick – a small terrier dog who provides many of the comedic sight gags.  But change comes to George’s life – as it does to everyone.

George is told that the era of silent movies is over.  Talking films are the wave of the future and, as a silent actor, he must change or be left behind.  He rejects the new reality and produces a silent film on his own.  It is released just as the stock market crash of 1929 hits.  The film and his finances are ruined.  George’s fear of speaking and of changing technology lead him to make his poor choices.  In an appropriately fitting scene depicted in the silent film he produces, George’s character sinks into a morass of quicksand – anguish and fear etched across his face.  At the end, only his hand extends above the sand, reaching for the safety he cannot find.  Art has imitated George’s real life.

In that life, George’s wife leaves him, his career comes to an end, his finances are lost and he moves from his mansion to a small apartment.  He hits rock bottom.

Concurrent to his fall from grace, we watch a young actress who falls in love with George, Peppy Miller, as she embraces the new technology of talking movies.  She becomes a star and soon has the wealth and fame George loses.  Faced with a similar choice as George in terms of her career, she chooses the exciting and new world of talk.  She embodies her name – she is literally peppy as she thrills to new adventures, new technology and new love.

During her rise, Peppy does not forget George or her love for him.  When he is forced to auction all of his possessions, she anonymously buys them – both to help him and to save them for him.  She even brings him into her home to recover from injuries he sustains.  When George discovers she has been his savior, he is angry at this reversal in roles.  He rejects her love and her devotion to him as much as he also rejects the idea that a woman can out earn and out succeed a man.

The film is a classic depiction of what we all face in life.  How do we react to change and how do we react to challenges?  Peppy chooses love – love of change, opportunity, technology and people.  George chooses fear – fear of the new form of acting, the new technology of sound in movies and the new concept that a woman can not only succeed in a career, but that she can be the protector of a man.  She thrives.  He does not.  In true Hollywood fashion, though, the movie does not end on a down note.  It finishes by showing us that love is more powerful than fear.

And thus we have the set-up for the spiritual lesson about life we might learn from the film.  The implicit lesson we discover in “The Artist” is that, like its characters, we are daily asked to solve a simple equation in decisions we must make.  That equation is: E + R = O.  E for “event”, plus R for “response”, equals O for “outcome.”

As I noted earlier, we face a barrage of events in life over which we have no control.  But, we must then respond to those events.  And that – the sum of the event plus our response to it – E + R – determines the outcome we experience.  Will the outcome be a good one or will it not?  As Oprah said, the outcome from any event in our lives is ultimately a choice between reacting with fear or reacting with love.

When we react to life challenges with love, we are really reacting with love for ourselves and the idea that we are called to serve others more than ourselves.  As humans, our natural inclination is to focus on external security issues.  Do we have enough money, shelter, food and health to make ourselves comfortable and, we falsely believe, happy?

Instead, we ought to focus on internal security issues – those ideals we hold in our hearts and souls like peace, contentment, humility, forgiveness and quiet confidence.  Are we at peace with ourselves and who we really are?  Are we angry or forgiving?  Are we content with simple pleasures or are we greedy?  Are we appropriately humble – knowing our abilities without needing to loudly broadcast them to others?  Are we gentle in speech, actions and demeanor?  These are all the stuff of inner security.  They are what creates an ability to love the self and thereby reach out to love others.  They are the ideals which dispel fear.

If I have a quiet confidence in myself, I may lose my job but know I will survive. If I know I am a loving and forgiving person, I will have the confidence to find a partner or thrive within a relationship.  If I know that I find pleasure in people and simple experiences, I will not fear the absence of money or wealth.  If I am content about my life, I will not fear health set backs or aging.  If I am at peace with who I am as a person – gay, straight, white, black, young, old, witty or thoughtful – I will not fear being who I was created to be.

Fear leads us to depression, selfishness, anger and isolation.  Instead, love of self, which is then translated into a love for serving others –  partners, families, friends and total strangers – all of that leads us to real joy.  It might be cliche to say, but love is, indeed, the answer.

As the motivational author and speaker Marianne Williamson famously put it, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?”  Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God.  Your playing small does not serve the world.”

That, for me, is the beautiful message in the movie “The Artist”.  Choose love over fear.  Choose to embrace new things, new people and new adventures as if you will not fail.  I especially appreciate the optimism of a man who I believe was one of our greatest Presidents – Teddy Rossevelt.  He was a self-described Progressive.   He was a man of no fear – a man who was always in the arena of life, as he put it.  He once said, in terms of our response to life events, “The best thing you can do is the right thing; ………..the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing;………………. the worst thing you can do is nothing.”  In other words, we must not allow fear to hold us back from anything.  And for myself, a man who is often afraid of saying the wrong thing, offending others or embarking on new adventures, the lesson from “The Artist” is an important one.

And, I believe, it is an important one for all of us.  Just as Teddy Roosevelt embodied his no fear approach to life in his Progressive ideas, we must do the same.  I do not speak politically here but in terms of basic beliefs.  Progressives embrace change.  Indeed, the definition is inherent in the name itself.  Progress.  From religion, to the economy, to social issues like gay rights and racial equality, to every day matters of love, money and personal health, progressives are not afraid of change and dynamic activity.  Indeed, I believe that without continuous change, no person and no organization can survive.  This is what we embody in here – not a political ideology but a spirituality that is willing to ask questions, accept new things, new people and new experiences all as ways to ever love and serve others.  Will we focus on fear of change and remain a small church always operating on a financial edge?  Or, will be embrace the love we have in our hearts to serve other people and thus find ways to grow by enlarging our current physical space and expanding the services we offer?  Will we operate in fear by choosing to hold onto what is a warm and comfortable group of people, or will we be an invitational congregation always dreaming of new ways to encourage others to join us in our loving effort to change lives for the better?

Just as important to us as an organization, we must not personally follow the fear based example of George Valentin in the movie “The Artist”.  Love yourself.  Love others.  Love life and live it to its fullest.  Serve with abandon.  Give generously.  Embrace change.  Find contentment and peace in the inner recesses of your soul.  As the Bible tells us, “There is no fear in love.  Perfect love drives out fear.  God has not given us a spirit of fear but one of power and love…”

Let each of us, myself included, love life and love others like we will never get hurt…

I wish you all much peace and even more joy.

Message 84, “The Gathering Goes to the Movies: ‘War Horse’ – Spiritual Lessons from Animals”, 2-5-12

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

Watch the official movie trailer here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7lf9HgFAwQ

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

 

Before he wrote the children’s book War Horse back in 1982, Michael Morpurgo found his inspiration to tell a story about the horrors of war through the eyes of a horse.  He had known a young boy of about twelve who was essentially mute.  The boy stammered terribly and thus refused to speak – so debilitating was his shame and fear at the reaction of others.  The boy became withdrawn and isolated and others were asked not to directly address him because that put him on the spot to respond.

One day, during a school trip to a farm, Morpurgo found the young boy standing in the barn gently talking to a horse named Heebee.  With convoluted speech and strangled words, the boy pressed on by soothing and befriending the animal.  What amazed Morpurgo was the response of the horse.  With its ears pricked up and attentively listening, the horse moved to the boy and stood quietly by – wanting to listen and knowing that patient listening was important.  The horse knew, as Morpurgo knew, that the boy wanted to talk and that he was reaching out to connect with another creature.  The boy found instant acceptance, love and open tolerance of his handicap not from fellow humans – but from a horse.

Morpurgo says that an intimacy developed between boy and horse over the coming weeks and months.  The boy spoke his struggled words and the horse understood, reached out and loved unconditionally.  The boy’s stammering got better as he was literally cured not by human connection but by that of an animal friend.  From this inspiration, Morpurgo knew he could frame an entire novel around the insights and experiences of a horse caught in the tumult of war.

He wrote his children’s story War Horse which went on to become a highly popular stage production and, just recently, an epic movie directed and produced by Steven Spielberg.

Like many of Spielberg’s other movies, War Horse is not without its seemingly contrived tugs at emotion and tears.  But, like many great movies, this one is inspirational because it calls us to be our better selves in ways that are beautiful and touching.  Unlike most movies, though, War Horse teaches us about selfless love, loyalty, courage and decency NOT through human actions, but through those of animals.  It is a movie that takes many of the ideals we talk about in here and embodies them in the life of a horse – by whom we are deeply moved to change and grow.

And that is precisely why I continue to annually take the month of February – Academy Awards month – to look at some great recent movies to find spiritual truths from which we can learn.  Movies are simply modern versions of myths, fables and parables.  Jesus almost always used a parable to teach a lesson – knowing that by casting a wondrous story with creative characters and events, an idea is better remembered and taken to heart.   And so, over the coming weeks, we’ll look at War Horse, The Artist – a pioneering silent movie about love, and Red Tails – a George Lucas film (of Star Wars fame) about World War Two African-American fighter pilots.

For today, though, my hope is to follow in Steven Spielberg’s footsteps and explore how animals often teach us more about ethics of gentleness, forgiveness, love, and loyalty than any human.

It is a part of our human nature to consider ourselves greater than we really are.  We read our own press, so to speak, and grandiosely think of ourselves as individuals, nations and even as a species to be superior to others.  Towards animals, humans err in believing they are greater.  With intellect and brain power considered more evolved, we believe we better understand life, truth and ethics more than other creatures whom we assume rely on simple, hard wired instinct.  We devalue the highly developed senses in animals that offer them a form of insight and intelligence humans do not comprehend.  Indeed, it was Mark Twain who once said, “I have studied the traits and dispositions of animals and contrasted them with the traits and dispositions of humans.  I find the results humiliating to me.”  The movie War Horse gently tell us that humans are, in reality, not as spiritually evolved as many animals.

In this regard, War Horse is a  worthy movie to consider.   Joey, a horse, is the main character of the film.  He understands the world and human nature with knowing insight.  He intuitively knows who his friends are – those who are caring, decent and non-exploitave.   Any pet owner knows this to be true of many animals.  Dogs, cats and other creatures immediately sense those who are not just loving towards them but those who are loving in general.

Joey sees the folly of humans in their warfare, to which he is forcibly conscripted, but he does not act belligerently or with anger against his situation.  Rather, through his quiet strength and courage, he shows another way.  He, and other horses, are mistreated and used as disposable cogs in the war effort.  But Joey persists, endures and exemplifies the kind of gentle strength under control that I spoke about in my last message series.

Joey develops a close friendship with another horse – Topthorn – which some reviewers believe is a nod to same sex romantic relationships.  It is clear that Joey and Topthorn, both males, care deeply for one another.  From this relationship, we see Joey’s loyalty, love and concern for another being.  He also shows this loyalty to his many human masters and, in particular, to the boy who raised him.  Even as he and other horses are brutally employed as beasts of burden – hauling huge artillery pieces to the front – Joey stoically perseveres, pulls more than his share to help other horses and still does not become hardened toward his human masters.  It is an often overlooked side note of war statistics that over 8 million horses were killed in World War One – the last great war in which they were used in quantity.

In the climactic scene of the movie, Joey amazes and touches hundreds of soldiers who watch him charge across a no-man’s land of barbed wire and trenches while gunfire and bombs explode around him.  He finally gets helplessly ensnared in multiple strands of barbed wire.  His courage and tenacity in the face of great danger embolden an English and German soldier to stop their fighting and cross into this hellish place to rescue Joey.  The gentle strength under calm control that Joey exemplifies inspires the humans he encounters and thus provides the emotional center of the story.

(As a quick aside, despite the awful situations in which Joey finds himself in the movie, no harm was done to any actor animal.  Through the art of computer animation, horses in distress are depicted digitally.  This new art form, and the movie itself, is highly praised by PETA and other animal rights organizations.   To tell a story where harm comes to animals, use of computer animation insures no actual animal is hurt for the purpose of art.)

We might explain away the spiritual behavior of Joey.  Skeptics assert that animals and horses act in ways that seem spiritual but which are really due to simple brains.  They are gentle not by choice, some say, but because of lower brain function governed by hard wired instinct, as opposed to genuine feeling and thought.  The opposite is instead likely the truth.  Animals offer us spiritual lessons we would be wise to copy.  Indeed, War Horse and its depiction of Joey is a perfect illustration of the ideas of gentleness, forgiveness and unconditional love which I have discussed in past messages.  Joey practices calm strength held in control.  He forgives in a way that maintains peace and calm.  He loves his friend Topthorn and his several human masters in ways that are sacrificial and deep.  Joey is humble despite his power and beauty.  It is to our discredit and our intellectual myopia if we assume it is unrealistic to ascribe spiritual wisdom to animals.

Michael Morpurgo and Steven Spielberg have not crafted a fable that lends anthropomorphic – human – qualities to animals.  Instead, they have created an instructive tale about animal wisdom and integrity in their own right.  Animals know.  They understand.  They sense a unifying order to all life – one of peace, humility, and unconditional love.

Many humans judge intelligence only by our own standard of thinking.  Most animals, however, think and act in different ways from our own – using their enhanced senses.  They taste, hear, smell, touch and communicate in ways far more powerful than humans.  This offers them an intelligence and insight that is different from our brain based cognitive approach – and it is often much wiser.  Joey the horse perceives danger, he intuitively knows love, he communicates loyalty, and he understands and remembers his long lost boy owner named Albert.  He possesses a spiritual grace that any pet, horse or animal human friend has often seen.   Animal intelligence and spirituality are not the same as that of humans.  They operate on another – and frequently greater – level of intuition.

Experts point to the ability of animals to be sharply attuned to their environment – something which humans can only minimally do.  Animals feel and sense seismic waves and sounds humans can detect only with highly precise machines.  Animals are attuned to the earth’s magnetic field and use it for their own navigation purposes.  Animals have highly acute senses of smell which enable them to detect fear, anger or aggression in other animals……. and in humans.  Our bodies release pheromones unique to the situation we are in – and these are smelled and understood by animals.  Finally, several experts believe animals employ a type of fuzzy logic that processes external stimuli in non-human ways.  We use linear logic to systematically analyze the external input we receive about our world.  Animals use an amalgam of of thinking processes that is not linear but which combines many senses, forms of intuition and deeply ingrained memories to think and act.

What such a level of thinking gives to animals is a spirituality that is very advanced by our standards.  There is a purpose to all of their actions which are not guided by anger, vengeance or selfishness.  Their animal logic – or fuzzy logic as humans call it – seems to understand the zero sum game of anger and retribution.  There is no purpose to it so they simply forgive and forget.  They intuitively understand that the rewards of life come only in the present and so they love and experience others without guile or manipulation.   This enables them to love unconditionally.  Further, they understand their simple needs and thus do not act in selfish ways – acquiring vast amounts of resources which they cannot consume or use.

There is a story about a cat named Oscar who was adopted by the Steere House Hospice in Providence, Rhode Island.  Unfortunately, Oscar proved to be aloof and not especially friendly – for most of the time.  After a while, though, it became clear to the doctors and nurses that while Oscar is usually aloof and distant, when a patient is near death, he jumps on the bed, purrs and softly cuddles next to the patient – offering comfort until the person passes.  His behavior is a noticeable predictor of death – often foretelling it long before doctors or nurses expect someone to pass.  Oscar is not only attuned to death but he exhibits the kind of compassion for the dying he does not regularly show.  While experts again say Oscar must smell pheromones given off by a dying patient, the doctors and nurses indicate that he also shows a type of intuition and spiritual sense that is deeply compassionate.  Oscar is attuned to his surroundings and sees as his purpose to lovingly comfort a dying person’s journey.

There is also a story of a German shepherd found abandoned with a broken leg beside a busy highway and a box of puppies near its side.   This mother dog was terribly malnourished and had scars and cuts that appeared to be from abuse.  After its rescue, the mother dog was understandably wary of human contact.  Just before it was about to be euthanized, the dog began licking the hand of a shelter volunteer in a calm and soothing manner.  The dog was adopted by this volunteer and she was soon found to be sweet and loving.   The dog would sit by the front door of her new home and watch outside the window for hours upon hours each day waiting for her new owner.  When together, the dog never left the side of the owner and slept at the foot of the bed.  Until the dog died of natural causes, it was totally devoted to its new owner.

While the actions of Oscar and the German shepherd are common in many pets and animals, it is clear these animals have profound things to teach us.  The shepherd had forgiven its past abuse and was not brutalized by her experiences.  The dog had not given up on humans.  Oscar the cat shows us unconditional love and compassion.  We learn forgiveness, faithfulness, love, resilience and patience by their actions – types of behavior we would be wise to emulate after we have been hurt or when others need our care.

We in the Gathering assert that there are many paths to understanding ultimate Truth.  Jesus is not the only way to the Divine and we often look to him as well as other prophets of history to find multiple  sources of spiritual insight.  What I found so inspiring in the movie War Horse is its assertion that animals are prophets too.  Many who love animals know this.  Native-Americans knew this.  Such thinking, as I said earlier, does not naively explain away animal behavior as instinct.  We can learn about ethics, integrity, love and selflessness from animals in the same way we do from Buddha, Jesus, Mohammad, Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr.  As the Biblical book of Job tell us, “Ask the animals, and they will teach you, or ask the birds of the air, and they will tell you. Speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea tell you. Every one of these knows that the hand of the Divine guides us…”  What the movie War Horse tells us is that animals are prophets too.

For myself, for all of us, we might heed the message of War Horse – and I recommend it as a movie to see.  As part of the larger web of creation, we are not spiritually isolated from, or superior to, other creatures.  Animals are spiritual beings with profound and beautiful values.  We should learn from them.

I wish you all peace and much joy.

Please click below to listen to Josh Spring’s message to the Gathering:

Message 83, “An Overlooked New Year’s Resolution: Laughter to Feed the Body, Mind and Soul”, 1-22-12

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

 

Anybody who has been attending over the past few months will remember two very different services.  Several weeks ago we had a gas leak in our furnace which created a dilemma for me.  What should I do?  Cancel the service or continue and allow for the potential risk.  It was an anxiety moment for me and I did not rise to the occasion.  I was stressed and upset.  Many of you could tell and Wayne Butterfass even came up to me and very kindly encouraged me to just relax.  Instead of practicing gentle ways by not being anxious and instead of finding humor in the situation, I was nervous and indecisive.

In contrast to that moment, a few weeks ago, on concluding the Christmas Eve service message, I did something slightly uncommon for me.  I extended myself and was willing to look a bit silly and less serious. I put a shiny silver tinsel boa around my neck and I stuck a red bow on my nose – all to conclude a message on faith like a child.  I debated beforehand whether to do such a silly thing – especially at an important service like Christmas Eve, but I went with it and played the fool – hopefully to illustrate my message point.

My response to the gas leak was spontaneous and not the best.  My actions in the Christmas Eve service were planned.  I went for the sight gag and several folks laughed – probably because I acted in a way that I am not particularly known for, and of course, I must have looked awfully silly.

Indeed, the laughter response of those in attendance that evening highlight the reasons why most people do laugh – our brain expects one thing but then it is suddenly confronted with something different and incongruous.  We note the irony and our bodies respond by laughing.  How many Pastors act goofy at the end of a traditionally solemn Christmas message?

My lesson from both of those incidents is that I must resolve to incorporate laughter and a sense of humor in my life.  By planning to be funny some of the time, I might be more inclined to respond with humor and laughter at difficult or stressful times.  Numerous experts, from psychologists to theologians to medical doctors, all extol the virtues and benefits of laughter.  And so I include it on my list of often overlooked New Year’s resolutions – our series topic during January.

Indeed, if you have heard or read the last two messages, you might have come away a bit down or in a much too serious frame of mind.  While I do not take back the notion that being gentle or practicing forgiveness are important, I mean come on!  They are sooooo serious!  Depression, the death penalty, anger, frustration and murder are not especially light subjects – all of which were mentioned in the last two messages.  I need today’s message to remind myself – lighten up occasionally Doug!  Life does not have to be so darn serious!

And most importantly, Sunday services, faith and spirituality do not have to always be so darn serious.  They can and should be occasionally playful.  We should not make light of important issues of our time and our lives but we also need to step back, take a deep breath and ultimately laugh at the often ridiculous or silly circumstances we are in.  It was Voltaire who said that, “God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”  What I need to remind myself is that God, or whatever power it is that controls our universe, wants me to laugh!

Take a look now at what I find is a hilarious but gentle mocking of church services – mine included – that are often way too serious, much too boring and terribly stuffy:              click here to watch video

Poking fun at religion and spirituality is quite common.  And it should be!  Few other institutions take themselves so seriously and consider themselves so important.  But that is not what most of the great prophets of history promote.  Jesus spoke often of the need for joy in life and he set out to experience fun – attending countless raucous dinner parties in the company of prostitutes, thieves and other so-called sinners.  I think he knew they would be much more fun and much better company than all of the so-called elites and religious know-it-alls.

The Bible even quotes him as making a joke out of Peter’s name – playfully teasing him that “Peter”, in Aramaic, means “little stone” or “pebble.”  “Yo, Peter!” Jesus said, “You’re a BIG dude, man, a BIG little rock upon which my spirituality will be built!”  (I’m paraphrasing of course!)  It’s interesting that many Bible literalists and the Catholic Church don’t get the joke Jesus was making.  He knew Peter was full of faults.  He was rash, a bit arrogant and ultimately weak in his convictions.  So Jesus playfully teased him by saying he was going to build his ethical teachings on a rock – on Peter – which everyone knew meant “pebble.”  The irony was a good one.  Faith rests on the weak and the meek.  Jesus did not intend to literally say that Christianity would be founded by Peter and that he should be the first Pope – an idea Jesus never mentions.  He was making a joke!

My point is that spirituality of all things should be full of joy and laughter and what better way to express a sense of humor than to gently laugh at oneself?  The Dalai Lama relates that his people, the Tibetans, face many serious issues, most importantly their oppression by the Chinese.  But he remains committed to smiling, laughing and being playful.  One looks at him and smiles.

The Koran says that “Blessed is he who makes his companions laugh.”  Kahlil Gibran, the Islamic mystic, wrote that, “It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter.  Tears that purify my heart and laughter that brings me closer to my fellow people; tears with which I join the broken-hearted and laughter that symbolizes joy over my very existence.”  And a Yiddish proverb states that, “What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul.”  All the things that ail us – worry, anxiety, hatred, anger and fear are cleansed – wiped away – by laughter!

We need to laugh at the sometimes pompous and self-important rituals of faith – much like in the video clip we just saw.  I imagine if I could sit out where you do – I would sometimes laugh at myself – not in self-indulgent embarrassment, but at how serious I can take myself.  Or, as Mr. Bean does in the video, I’d fall asleep.  I like to tell friends, who ask about listening to me online, that the Gathering ought to make some added money by selling my recorded messages as the perfect cure for insomnia!

Here are a few cartoons about religion that I find very funny.  Some of them you will have to think about just a bit…  (Click on cartoon to slightly enlarge, scroll down through cartoons to resume message)

 

 

 

 

 

Chuckling to ourselves or laughing out loud are cathartic and immensely helpful to our spiritual souls.  By smiling, experiencing moments of happiness and taking life less seriously, we find real joy.  Such moments cause us to draw closer to one another and, instead of diminishing the importance of a spiritual subject, laughter comes by thinking about and understanding subtle ironies – like how Christians worship a dead body much like bugs would worship a squashed one!   That helps us tap into spirituality and how it affects the world.  Is it blasphemy to humorously think of God watching us on some divine super computer, or Jesus having his bottom exposed – pointing out his need for sunscreen, or two Buddhist monks praising the ironic idea of being thoughtless?  Some people believe religious subjects are off-limits and, indeed, I believe there are some things that are not funny.  Negative humor demeans and debases.  It humiliates and is cruel.  Racist, sexist or homophobic jokes are examples.  Who among us could not have aspects of their heritage, appearance or sexuality made fun of?  Such things are off base.

But if God, Jesus, Buddha or any other religious figure are not big enough to be mildly teased, then I suggest they are not all powerful.  I fully believe that if Jesus were alive today and had seen an actual Coppertone sunscreen commercial, he would laugh at the cartoon of him needing the same.  As Paul Rudnick, a contemporary comedian notes, “There is only one blasphemy and that is the refusal to experience joy.”

And that ought to hold true for us.  If I possess any confidence in who I am as a person, I can withstand gentle and mild teasing.  Indeed, I ought to be the first to laugh at myself.  The actress Shirley McClaine once said, “The person who knows how to laugh at himself or herself will never cease to be amused!”

Laughter also is a proven benefit for our minds and our bodies.  This has been known throughout history.  Plato and Socrates knew of its benefits.  Laughter and tickling were used as a form of anesthesia during surgical procedures in the Middle Ages.  Court jesters were used after large banquets because laughter was seen as helping digestion.  Jesters were used to help Kings and Queen recover from an illness and it was Sigmund Freud who proposed that laughter relieves the mind of anxiety.  Indeed, it’s been scientifically shown that an amusing stimulus to the brain causes the pituitary gland to release certain hormones that create endorphins in our bloodstream.  Those are the natural body chemicals that make us feel good – after we exercise, engage in sex or laugh.

Psychologically, laughter reduces tension.  It helps us be more empathetic toward others – we relate to people better if we see the human side of them.  Laughter eliminates anger as it encourages forgiveness and a calm approach to problem solving.  According to a recent article in Psychology Today, couples should not just to find laughter from outside sources like TV or the movies, but from playful and gentle humor understood just between the two.  Those partners who are able to laugh at silly things between them or playfully tease one another, are said to be happier and more stable.    While some find relentless tickling painful, the article suggests that mild forms of it are healthy in a relationship.  Tickling that causes laughter is intimate, it brings the two closer and it helps diffuse disagreements.  Indeed, the article says that in the middle of an argument it is sometimes helpful to say something funny or to begin tickling the other.  Such actions indicate that the disagreement is not that serious and it enables calmer and more reasoned discussion later.

Physically, laughter is known to have immense benefits.  Laughter lowers blood pressure, it reduces heart disease by reducing stress – something that has been proven harmful to the epithelial lining of veins and arteries.  Laughter boosts our immune system by increasing the T-cell count and it increases the production of cancer fighting lymphocytes.  It also strengthens our brains and improves our memories by engaging both sides of the brain – one of the few things that does this.  We use our left brain to analyze a joke or funny situation.  We use our right brain to actually get the joke and then laugh.  Such engagement of both sides of the brain improves short and long term memory.

And so, my friends, as I end this January message series on overlooked New Year’s resolutions, I hope to have stimulated some thought about taking a chance and extending ourselves in new and better ways.  Life is never easy.  It is often framed with heart ache and pain, but we do possess the secrets to joy.  We have within us that power I mentioned two weeks ago, to create pain or stimulate happiness – in ourselves and in others.  If, as I believe, heaven is here and now and it is what we make it to be, then this is our chance, our one opportunity to have an impact and do good.  It is our time to speak gentle words and experience a peaceful presence.  It is up to us to let go of that which hurts and destroys and grab a hold of kindness, empathy and forgiveness.  Of equal importance, as serious as life can be, we should NOT make it more so.  We must laugh out loud, tell jokes, and be playful.  And we must learn to laugh at ourselves.  We are often quite ridiculous, but lovable people.

I conclude with the words of two men – one a comic genius and the other a much too serious Pastor.  Woody Allen, the comic genius, said, “I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose.”  And I, the much too serious Pastor, says to you and to me, take a chance, laugh and be a fool for a moment.  You just might be the wisest one in the room!

 

Peace and much joy I wish for all of you…

 

 

 

Message 82, “An Overlooked New Year’s Resolution: The Power of Forgiveness”, 1-15-12

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

Click here to listen to message or read it below:

On November 4, 1977, Elmo Patrick Sonnier and his brother Eddie came across two young lovers, David LeBlanc and Loretta Ann Bourque, who were in a parked car on an isolated road.  After pretending to be police officers and accusing the young lovers of trespassing, the Sonnier brothers abducted David and Loretta and drove them to an abandoned oil field.  David was handcuffed to a tree while one or both of the brothers took turns raping Loretta.  While pleading for their lives, the young couple were led to a ditch, forced to lie face down, and then shot in their heads.

Patrick and his brother were convicted of murder and sentenced to die in Louisiana’s electric chair.  Eddie’s sentence was later commuted to life in prison.  Patrick Sonnier, however, was executed by Louisiana in April of 1984.  His spiritual advisor was Sister Helen Prejean who became a vehement anti-death penalty advocate and who wrote the famous book, Dead Man Walking.

In the hours before his execution, Patrick Sonnier remained defiant and belligerent. He had heard that Loretta’s father expressed the desire to pull the execution switch himself.  Sister Helen implored Sonnier not to allow his last words in the execution chamber be ones of anger and bitterness.  She told him that only by accepting his crimes and seeking reconciliation with his victims could he redeem his life and ultimately rise above his notorious actions.

Just minutes before he was executed, strapped into the electric chair nicknamed “Gruesome Gertie”, Patrick Sonnier turned to the fathers of the two victims and said, “I can understand the way you feel. I have no hatred in my heart. As I leave this world, I ask God to forgive me for what I did. I also ask your forgiveness for what I did.”

Lloyd LeBlanc, the father of David, nodded his agreement to Patrick Sonnier and several years later joined with Sister Helen Prejean in forming the advocacy group, “Parents of Murdered Children Against the Death Penalty”.  This group works to abolish the death penalty primarily on the grounds that killing criminals does not bring closure to victim’s families.  Instead, it brutalizes and reduces them by stoking feelings of hatred and revenge.  Additionally, the death penalty diminishes our justice system by perpetrating additional violence.  Indeed, as Lloyd LeBlanc and Sister Prejean have noted, executing another human being for murder is itself a form of murder.  Neither victims nor society find the peace they seek.

While I have no desire to engage in a discussion of the death penalty today, my purpose in sharing this story is to illustrate the spiritual implications of forgiveness.  Such a story shakes me to the core when I read of parents and families who find the ability to forgive brutal murderers of their precious children.  I cannot imagine the strength of character such an action must take.

Indeed, I often struggle with forgiving much smaller slights against me.  Inside, I can quietly rage at the pain I have suffered and I will too often desire to return the hurt.  I reduce myself, my values and my ethics simply by thinking angry thoughts.  Even more, I hold onto these feelings and nourish them by reliving the hurtful experience.  I plant a garden of weeds and thorns in my soul.  The only person harmed, in reality, is me.  I wallow in the depths of this dark garden as I am prevented from being the person of love and charity that I wish to be.

As we engage this month in a look at overlooked New Year’s resolutions, I believe that cultivating a forgiving attitude is essential for creating a more peaceful world.  It is not only a resolution we ought to consider, I believe it is one we should adopt.

We are exposed throughout our lives to a continuous series of insults, slights, and hurts inflicted upon us by others.  Whether by intention or simple indifference to doing the right thing, we get hurt a lot.  The most damaging insults we suffer often come from those who love us the most – our parents, children and partners.  But we are also routinely treated poorly by store clerks, co-workers, other drivers and total strangers.  We might rage for a minute or so at small insults but then we often move on.  Even so, for a moment or two of anger, we are not our true selves.  We are petty, fuming, immature actors who forget all of the spiritual truths we know – to turn the other cheek, find empathy for the perpetrator, and maintain peace in our hearts and minds.

For the sake of our families, our work places, our communities and, indeed, our very souls, finding ways to practice genuine forgiveness are essential, I believe, to our work in helping build a better world.  Forgiving daily petty hurts is important.  Of greater importance are the people we must forgive for much deeper hurts.  Those are the hurts that fester inside and grow like cancers – destroying the joy and peace we really seek.

And as quickly as I utter such words, I understand the profound reasons why forgiveness is so difficult to practice or define.  If one says, “I forgive you”, what does that mean?  Is it genuine in the sense that a victim no longer feels the sting of hurt?  Is it absolution and a wiping away of the injury – as if it never took place?  How do we forgive, for instance, the slave traders of the eighteenth century, Adolf Eichman of Nazi Germany who methodically planned the killing of millions, the many child abusers who take advantage of youthful innocence, or – more recently – Osama bin Laden for his role in murdering thousands?  Should victims simply say, “Oh, that’s OK.  No big deal.  We forgive you”?

Many people in this room have been traumatically hurt by people in their past.  Such wrongdoers may have never acknowledged their sins and may now be deceased or nowhere to be found.  How does one forgive someone who has never expressed remorse?

Indeed, there are some psychologists who argue that holding onto and venting anger toward those who have hurt us is therapeutic and necessary. Child abuse and rape victims, some experts say, benefit from feelings of rage in order to bring them to the surface and thus remove their shame and guilt.  The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, even recently stated that in our contemporary world of crime, genocide and terrorism – it may be dangerous to forgive too quickly.  We lose the protective indignation we need in order to prevent future crimes.  The greater good of protecting society, Rowan says – by holding onto anger and vengeance – is better than offering forgiveness that might open the way to further hurt.

But Rowan Williams is at odds with Bishop Desmond Tutu, also of the Anglican community, and many other spiritual leaders.  Desmond Tutu said that forgiveness is not about the wrongdoer.  It is ultimately an act of self-interest.  We forgive others to benefit our lives.  In this sense, for any person, practicing forgiveness is an act of self-healing.

For me, forgiving others is essential to my personal well-being.  My spirituality focuses on improving my inner self so that I am better able to improve the world.  Hatred and anger are never cleansing.  There is no joy in them.  My soul is not uplifted, I am not inspired and nothing is improved when I return insult for insult, hate for hate.  How can I help build heaven on earth if my heart is full of bitterness?  Indeed, I see this as the major stumbling block to a better world.  People too often – myself included – stay stuck in their self-righteous anger against others.  That anger feeds an equally angry response from the other and the two sides get trapped in a downward spiral of verbal or physical violence.  Everybody ends up getting hurt.

It takes amazing strength and courage to stop this cycle.  Indeed, as one anonymous observer noted, saying you are truly sorry is the best way to have the last word.  Even more, I believe the appropriate response to someone who has hurt me is to take back control of my life, forgive and then live fully and happily.  My motivation is not to show up the perpetrator but to indicate that he or she no longer has the power to hurt me.

Experts tell us that practicing forgiveness takes time and effort.  It is not a simple task.  First, one must genuinely review what needs forgiving.  Honestly examine the facts and rigorously note areas where both sides might be at fault.  One need not condone the hurtful act and it is perfectly appropriate to call it what it is – wrong.

Second, in order to forgive, one should examine how one has reacted to the hurt.  Did I lash out in some way to try and hurt the other – ignoring or treating him or her poorly?  Is that really how I want to act?  How is my anger affecting how I think?  Does it consume my thoughts and cause me to spend wasted energy, time and sleep?  Would my life be better – would I be happier – if I was not dwelling on the hurt and consumed with anger?

As I realize the negative impact my thoughts and actions have on my life, I can then resolve to forgive the person who hurt me – and thus restore my sense of peace and happiness.  This does not mean I condone the bad actions.  It does not mean I forget them.  It does not mean that I will immediately trust the other.  That will take a lot of healing.

What it does mean is that I let go of my anger at the person who hurt me.  I must consciously choose to think non-angry thoughts about the other.  This means I stop being a victim and become the one with real power.  It is me who is now acting.  It’s me who is taking control.  It is me who sees the misdeed in its human perspective – an action frozen in time that is evil, while the person is not.  This is what some call – “hate the sin but love the sinner”.

This attitude gets at the crux of forgiveness.  It does not remove the guilt of the other party.  Instead, this attitude of loving the sinner offers empathy and understanding.  It says that I am placing myself in the shoes of other and seeking to understand why he or she acted as they did.  Empathy also seeks to understand one’s own role in what took place.  This does not excuse bad behavior but instead sees it in its full light and is the path to forgiveness.

As some of you know, I have had a few life-long issues with my father.  I am not saying anything here that I have not said to my dad.  He has said things to me that deeply hurt.  Many years ago, he said something particularly mean spirited to me and I then vowed that unless he apologized, I would cut myself off from him.  Even worse, I refused to allow my daughters to spend time with him.  About a month went by when I realized how awful I was acting.  I wrote him a letter apologizing for my behavior, asked his forgiveness and promised to visit and bring my girls.  A day later he appeared at my door and I welcomed him in.  We exchanged some small talk and did so in a way that showed we were beyond our anger.  As my dad turned to leave, he reached out, put his hand on my shoulder and said he was sorry.  And, for the first and only time in my life, he told me he loved me.

What I came to realize then, and still must remember today, is that my dad is himself a wounded man.  His father was very hard on him.  And my dad is a product of his generation – he was raised to be macho, gruff and suspicious of sensitive and quiet men – like me.  He loves me but I am not the macho son he wanted.  While such facts do not excuse some of the things he has said to me, forgiving my dad involves finding empathy for him.  Such empathy allows me to understand the human conditions that caused his harmful words.  It allows me to see that my dad is a human being, a child of the divine, subject to flaws and failures like I am too.  Most importantly, continuing to forgive my dad gives me much greater peace.

Empathy caused Sister Prejean to reach out to Patrick Sonnier.  It caused Lloyd LeBlanc to forgive the killer of his son.  We have all done things for which we are not proud – not murder or other brutal sins – but nevertheless actions which we do not want used as the ultimate definition of our lives.

It was in this fashion that Jesus forgave the woman caught in adultery as he challenged her accusers to cast a stone against her only if they too had no sin in their lives.  It was Jesus who asked his followers to forgive others in the same way as they daily prayed for forgiveness.  How could they ask something be given to them that they were not willing to grant others?  That intended lesson is for us to also ponder.  We ought to forgive as we too ask to be forgiven.

And, we cannot soothe ourselves by claiming that our small misdeeds are worthy of forgiveness while more serious ones of others are not.  Jesus taught that a hateful act is a hateful act. I may not murder with my hand but I can murder with my angry thoughts and my words.  A person might not literally commit adultery but he or she might in their hearts and minds – as Jimmy Carter once famously admitted.  There is no difference according to Jesus.  A wrongdoing is a wrongdoing.

The importance here is on empathy, understanding and acceptance of one’s own role in any misdeed.  Letting go of the anger toward a perpetrator does not excuse the wrongdoing.  Instead, it creates peace.

Mahatma Gandhi once said that, “The weak can never forgive.  Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”  And an unknown commentator added that, “To forgive is to set the prisoner free and then discover that the prisoner was you.”  I do not claim that with my simple words today forgiveness will be easy.  Nor do I begin to comprehend the mountain of pain that may have been inflicted on you or others.  But I do know of our common aspirations to live contented lives.  I do know that we are a people who yearn to be kind, generous, loving and gentle.  Let us focus our energies and our time in crafting a peaceful and happy existence – in ourselves, our homes, schools and workplaces.  To do so, I encourage us one and all – make a New Year’s resolution to practice forgiveness to those who hurt you – choose to banish anger toward them. You will find, I promise, understanding and love.

I wish you all much peace and even more joy.

 

 

Message 81, “An Overlooked New Year’s Resolution: Gentleness”, 1-8-12

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

 

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Of all the holidays we collectively celebrate over the course of a year, New Year’s Day is the only one that marks the passage of time.  As an arbitrary moment fixed by our use of a calendar system chosen long ago, we look back and remember the past year as we more importantly look forward to the next.  We are given an empty slate upon which we can create something new about ourselves and our lives.

What will 2012 bring for any of us?  Because we have no idea, we often try and assume some control over our destiny by resolving to do things that will help us be happier, healthier, wealthier or wiser.

It is said that approximately 43% of American adults make a New Year’s resolution.  While those who do are ten times more likely to succeed then those who simply hope for the best, the vast majority of resolutions – 80% – are not kept one year later.  As Mark Twain once noted, New Year’s is the accepted time to make an annual resolution.  And next week we can begin paving the way to hell with them as usual!

As true as that might be for many of us, I like the optimism of Benjamin Franklin who said, “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better person.”

And in our effort to be a better person, the majority of Americans adopt similar New Year’ resolutions.  The most common include: spending more time with family, losing weight, quiting smoking, getting in shape, getting out of debt and getting organized.  Psychologists say that people often fail at their resolutions because most do not set realistic and attainable goals and they are too focused on the negative.  Instead of resolving to lose weight, for instance, one should set a positive goal to look better or live healthier.

Over the next few weeks, I want to examine some less common ways we might become better people – ways to be at peace with our neighbors, as Ben Franklin put it.  I’ve chosen a few that resonate with me – perhaps because I struggle with them more – but they are ways of behavior that I believe powerfully affect our own lives and our interactions with people around us.  We’ll look at the ideas of gentleness, forgiveness and laughter over the next three Sundays as possible, but uncommon, New Year’s resolutions.

For today, we will consider the concept of gentleness.  Like many human qualities, it is a difficult one to define and there are many interpretations of what being gentle might include.  Some modern definitions of gentleness imply a form of weakness and softness that insults the quality.  Indeed, to be gentle is often considered a feminine ideal which is a backhanded insult to women since the stereotype is one of weakness.    Webster’s collegiate dictionary defines gentleness as enduring injury with patience and restraint.  While this comes close, it seems to miss the mark.  Aristotle tried to define it as a mindset that is half-way between anger and indifference.  The French often translate gentleness as “douceur” – which implies sweetness, politeness and modesty.

All of these definitions are reasonably suitable but they fail to offer a holistic understanding of the characteristic.  To be gentle is to exhibit strength under control.  To be gentle, I believe, is to be calm and at peace in any situation.  A gentle person emits a soothing presence at all times – even under stress or when attacked.  He or she is rarely angry in an explosive or mean spirited manner.  Being gentle is to possess tact, humility and courtesy.  Importantly, however, gentle people know when and how to act and speak in decisive ways without causing harm or injury.  One illustration of gentleness offered by one psychologist is to compare it to a giant machine that is used to crush cars into flattened metal sheets for recycling.  This powerful machine, is so precise – so gentle – that it can also be calibrated to crush the shell of a walnut without damaging the inner meat of the nut.

While we are not machines, the illustration is helpful.  Gentle people are NOT weak or soft.  They have strength but know how to wield it in ways that have a positive impact on others and on their work.  They know how to treat others with respect.  When they speak, it is with a calm voice.  Even in times of stress, one speaks and acts peacefully.  When waiting, gentle people are patient.  When walking or moving through life, gentle people do not stomp, make loud noise or move without care for the impact made.  When assisting others, they do not get exasperated or impatient.  When interacting within partnerships or families, gentle people respect the likes and dislikes of the ones they love.  Gentle people make their own needs known calmly and without being demanding.  At work, colleagues are treated fairly and with respect – wherever they are in the workplace hierarchy.  One is never abrupt and the time of others is respected.  When a gentle person handles any object or other living creature, it is done with care.

Spiritually, gentleness is a universal quality admired in most world religions.  According to the Koran, Allah is gentle and loves gentleness in people.  “He who is deprived of gentleness is deprived of good”, it says.

Serenity, gentleness, silence and self-restraint are the hallmarks of a person at peace, according the Buddha.  Problems, the Buddha said, are not solved by hatred, anger or violent speech.  Our problems are solved, he said, by loving kindness, gentleness and joy.

And St. Francis de Sales commented that when confronted with difficulties in life, the gentle person does not try and break them, but rather bends and shapes them for the better, over time. He or she is patient and long suffering.  His ideal for gentleness was obviously that of Jesus – a man who was admired and followed by thousands but who could have commanded an armed revolt had he wanted.  Jesus regularly sought out not the power brokers of his time but people who lived on the margins – those with no influence or wealth.

Indeed, a wise modern prophet, Abigail Van Buren of Dear Abby fame, commented that a gentle person is marked by how he or she treats people who can’t do him or her any good – and by how he or she treats those who can’t fight back.  Van Buren clearly understood this idea of having power over others but using it productively, carefully and with care.

For me, that is the ultimate essence of gentleness.  It is a character trait I want more evidence of in my life.  This strength under calm control is a beautiful thing.  Such a demeanor is humble towards others without being falsely modest, it works and achieves without being forceful or impatient, it is considerate even when insulted or troubled, and it manages a crisis with calm determination instead of anxiety and fear.

And that speaks to the quality that Buddhists most encourage.  Gentleness towards others begins within ourselves.  We must first be gentle with our own flaws, failures and fears.  I was a bit down last weekend over New Year’s – despairing over some loneliness I felt.  Invoking the things I often talk about in here, I got angry myself for getting down when I have so much in my life.  While all of that is true, it took a gentle friend to remind me that many people experience blue periods and that perhaps what I needed was not anger but a reassuring hug.

The lesson I learned was not that it was healthy to remain depressed but that I needed to show as much care and concern for myself as I try to offer others.  From such inner love, I could better examine why I felt sad.  One who is gentle with oneself does not make excuses for self-failure but instead forgives, lets go and seeks ways to change.  This gentleness for the self is the perfect attitude for acting calm with others.  Indeed, those who are angry and rough with themselves are often angry and rough with others.  The Buddha implored his followers to lovingly touch their own inner hearts.  “When you do so,” he said, “you discover that your heart is vast and limitless.  You begin to discover how much gentleness there is to give away.”

And when we practice and give away gentleness, I believe there is a substantial change for the good in our world.  We begin to experience the kind of contentment and serenity that we seek.  The human impulse, many believe, is to compete and scramble for the limited resources of life – food, wealth, land and resources.  Human history shows us, however, that while we often act against our better angels and act selfishly, humanity is gradually evolving toward greater gentleness with each other.  We are evolving toward cooperation and greater peace because our rational minds tell us that selfish competition and a lack of gentleness toward others is a zero sum game.  We see this in history as lone hunter gatherers joined forces to hunt and farm together, to then form villages and eventually nations – all as ways to cooperate and benefit everyone.  We saw this as nations moved from economic systems based on feudalism and slavery towards economies with opportunity for anyone.  We have seen this worked out in history as vast segments of the population are no longer treated unfairly – racial and religious minorities, women and now gays and lesbians.  Such progress was not the result of general morality but a recognition that gentleness towards others is more effective than brute competition.  This is the moral imagination of which I often speak.  Selfish strength wins for a moment, but cooperation, compromise and gentle power is stronger and more lasting.

We find this is true for ourselves, our families and our nation.  Selfish anger, competition and hatred seems powerful.  But nobody wins in the end.  Survival of the fittest is not a winning strategy.  Humanity survives because we continue to learn that moral imagination – that mutual gentleness – works better.  How can I change for the better instead of being locked in ineffective self-recrimination?  How can you and I work together so that the best of your ideas and the best of mine combine to create something good for everyone?

Ultimately, if others share in progress and well-being, there will be fewer wars, less anger and reduced unfair competition.  How might our strength be used calmly, peacefully and cooperatively – for everyone?

One of the most gentle of contemporary world figures was Nelson Mandela.  A man who was unjustly imprisoned, beaten, tortured and humiliated for his ideals on human equality, emerged from prison with profound peace in his heart.  With the collapse of apartheid and newly elected as South Africa’s President, he commanded immense power.  Anger and retribution could have determined his actions.  Instead, through his gentle ways, he guided his nation through acts of reconciliation – establishing truth councils to understand the horrors of the past while offering forgiveness in return.  One of Mandela’s previous enemies came to say about him that one felt safe in his presence – he was so kind, warm and gentle.  Mandela was determined in his beliefs – that the races must come to terms with the sins of their past – but his actions guided South Africa through great change.  Peaceful cooperation between the races is now much more prevalent.  Such attitudes were achieved not by anger but by gentle strength.

And so strength under calm and gentle control might be an overlooked New Year resolution we ought to consider.  How might I become more gentle?  First, I must resolve to forgive myself when I make a mistake.  Admit it, forgive it and learn from it.  Second, I must resolve to remain calm and at peace when big and small troubles come my way.  Third, I must watch my speech.  I must resolve to speak gently to others – even if they hurt me, attack me or disagree with me.  Fourth, I should respect everyone I meet – from the homeless man on the street to a very wealthy acquaintance.  Nobody, no matter how powerless, should be beyond my attention, concern and time.  Fifth, I should practice moral imagination.  I must seek to cooperate and compromise with others – humbly acknowledging that the beliefs and thoughts of others have validity too.   If my politics, my spirituality and my understanding of ethics were so perfect and so right, then I ought to be immediately elected President and God all in one!  Cooperation and compromise, I firmly believe, are not dirty words.

Finally, I must move through life gently.  I must walk quietly, I must speak softly, I must listen far more than I speak, and I must carefully handle all created things and forms of life.  Ultimately, I must resolve to be a presence of peace, safety and calm.

As I make such resolutions, I should exhibit the same gentleness with myself in trying to meet them.  Setting a realistic goal is important.  I will not change overnight and I will occasionally fail.  I should examine where I fall short in being gentle and then consciously adopt strategies for change.  To intelligently counteract my failures, it will be wise for me to ask others to hold me gently accountable – to tell me when I fall short.

We each have great power within ourselves to help in life, or to do injury.  With our words and our actions, we can inflict serious hurt.  Too often, such hurt is directed at those whom we love the most.  But no matter the situation or the person, we can use that great power we have and still be in calm control – thus creating effective families and communities of peace.  Our words to others can be laced with tact and courtesy.  Our response to the insults and anger of others can diffuse the situation as we use calm voices, words and actions.  Our attitudes about life, politics, religion or other beliefs need not be discarded but they can be wisely practiced and gently shared.  Most importantly, in doing so, we can extend hands of cooperation and understanding to others with whom we disagree.  We can live out the moral imagination that exerts intelligence and ability in ways that uplifts and empowers, but never hurts.  Whatever resolutions you make this year, let one of them be to practice strength under gentle control.