The Common Language of the Body

When we give ourselves a moment to sit in silence, to take a deep breath in, we touch our own sacred ground. It is a spacious and timeless feeling, a place within us that holds endless possibility. We can feel that there is common ground between us. There is a sense of connection without words.

Let us begin with the heart, located in the center of our chest. Place your hand on your own heart. Our heart is this incredible life – sustaining muscle and source from which a unique power springs forth, that of love and compassion, the power of healing. Lately, I have been hearing people speak of loving those that we might deem unlovable or undeserving of our love. I believe that love is an incredibly powerful force that can bring transformation and healing into the world. Who is to say that if a certain crucial number of people send their loving energy to someone or to a situation, that it wouldn’t help in opening that heart, in healing that suffering? When do you let your heart lead? What are the dreams that are hidden there? In the hidden place within your own heart, lie the answers to all of the questions you might ever have.

I believe that we are made up of several bodies in addition to the physical one that we inhabit. Our individual bodies are actually four realms – the mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual. I want to examine this idea of unity or oneness within our own bodies. How do we integrate these separate bodies into one? And do we even realize that we are doing this at every moment of our lives. We can be walking down the sidewalk and hear a siren. Immediately, all four of our bodies suddenly become engaged. We have an emotional response, our physical body perhaps tightens, we may have thoughts and our spirit is engaged, perhaps in sending a prayer to the destination of the ambulance, those who are riding in it. It is as if we are in a continual process of integration all the time.

I worked with an incredible person named Liz Lerman. She is a dance choreographer and community leader in the most transformative sense of the word. She is someone who has the visionary capability to access her own heart and create positive change in any environment she is in. She has been a great inspiration to me, and has truly proven that Everyone Can Dance. She is a person who thrives on bringing together groups of people who feel that they are opposing each other – people of very different faith beliefs, ages or backgrounds. And these people would come together reluctantly and through movement and stories, common ground would be created in that moment. There would be an understanding of our common humanity. She is the reason that I know creating movement can be transformative, and it is a sacred act.

My work with Liz reinforced my belief that all living beings on the earth make up a collective body, a system that we all belong to, and help to grow, help to sustain. What would it mean to see all of us as one body, a body of beings undergoing a collective journey. As the words of Mary Ann Williamson state: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” I believe this is true at a core level – there is power in numbers of people, and in one person’s commitment to truth and justice. We can make a difference, and I believe it can start by acknowledging that we are a collective body. We are connected not only to every living being on the planet, but to the earth itself, and the cosmos that surrounds the earth. Being able to embrace the idea that we are all connected can lead to liberation both for ourselves as individuals in realizing that we are never alone; and also the realization of our own power as a “body” of people. The Unitarian Universalist faith is a body in itself that is waking up to its own power. We hold beliefs in common and share a commitment to creating a world of equality and justice. This is power. This is what makes up the continually changing fabric of our collective body. When we surrender to our own hearts, to the opening of our minds, to the true spaciousness of our bodies, we strengthen the collective body that we belong to. We can speak a common language together.

May we feel our bodies as we each enter our own journeys of awakening. May we allow our minds to be like open doors where learning can come flowing in and wisdom can flow out in all that we do. Our thoughts do matter; our actions do make a difference. May we allow ourselves to do the radical act of letting our hearts lead in our lives. Through our own compassion, we will be speaking and acting in communal ways. If our common language can be one of love and unconditional acceptance for ourselves and all those we come in contact with, we will be helping to create beloved community.
I want to end with this prayer by Wayne Muller:
“Remember who you are. Remember what you love.
Remember what is sacred. Remember what is true.
Remember that you will die and that today is a gift.
Remember how you wish to live.”
Amen

A Week Without Violence...white flags like two wings

I just returned from an event that launched a Week Without Violence in Salt Lake City. Rev. Sean offered an opening prayer that spoke of love and justice. We heard family members mourn and share stories about children they had lost to domestic violence, and we ended with a candlelight vigil on the steps of the county building.
The image that stayed with me as I walked back to my car was the 5700 small white flags placed in the lawn, that spread out like two giant white wings on either side of me. And in front of me a giant full moon rose above the mountains. When we come together, it does make a difference.

Peace is here now. Every breath is a prayer.

Our Mountain Desert District...we are here to stay.

I had the opportunity to attend the Mountain Desert District Assembly last weekend - 250 or so Unitarian Universalists together for talking, sharing, worshipping, dancing, and learning, it was exciting! What I loved most were the conversations in the halls, over dinner, in the workshops about life and what we had in common. I was continually reminded of our common humanity...We participated in a public witness for Marriage Equality outside the convention center and were reminded of the isolation and difficulty of living in a conservative or "not fully welcoming" community. As we drove the hundreds of miles to get to Grand Junction, I was reminded of the sheer distance between so many of us and the added importance of such gatherings to bring us together. These district assemblies remind us of our connection with each other as Unitarian Universalists and of our importance in the larger society. We need to stand on the side of love in whatever ways we can. Every day, in all we do. If we are here to stay then we need to come together and use our common voice for justice. Our voice of liberal religious freedom and all-inclusive love is so needed today, in these communities of the Western US and around the globe.

The Day Will Come

I offered this sermon on October 2nd at South Valley UU Society.

I begin with words by poet Derrick Walcott

Love After Love

“The day will come when with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the others reflection saying sit here, eat, you will love again the stranger who was yourself. Give wine, give bread, give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignore for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, desperate notes. Peel your own image from the mirror, sit, feast, feast on your life.”
This is one of my favorite poems. I first heard it when poet David Whyte read it on his CD, The Poetry of Self-Compassion. I must say that David’s calling in life in my opinion, is the incredible and intimate way he reads and interprets other poets’ work. He whispers into the microphone: “the day will come when with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror.” Sean and I, and others of you I know, share a deep and intimate love of poetry – words that stir our souls and fill us with yearning, an aching reminder of the nearness of the sacred. Words that speak so completely to our experience as humans trying to make sense of a complicated and confusing, unknown and strange world. There are many people for whom writing and words, the creation of poetry is a calling. But to speak first about Calling in general.

I’m lucky that this is our first Sunday with this theme, so I can focus on it without fear that people will have grown tired of hearing about it. (I actually don’t see how one could get tired, it’s such an exciting and rich topic, in my opinion.) I want to emphasize right here and now that one of the most important aspects of calling for me is that it can and must encompass our ways of being in the world. Calling or vocation is almost always associated with what we are doing in life. To quote Mary Oliver “what are you going to do with your one wild and precious life?” Well, I would say that one thing we are doing is actually being people of integrity and compassion. We are living our dear UU principles in the best ways that we can every day. That is enough. And a tall order, I might add. To treat every person you encounter as if they had inherent worth and dignity. This can be pretty difficult!

Theologian Nancy Duff has expanded the concept of vocation or calling beyond doing or accomplishing a job or task, to a sense that each of our lives has inherent meaning. She says: “Your life matters; furthermore, your life matters where you are right now.” She adds that “our lives have divinely ordained purpose where we are and who we are at any given moment.” Our very being in the world can offer purpose, can and does make a difference. For me, this needs to be a daily reminder that who I am and how I am being in the world is enough, and is actually part of my calling. It matters how we are. I believe that by being a peaceful presence if that is what is needed, or offering a word of strength or compassion if that is what I feel called to say, are ways of being can help create more healing in the world. We are helping to promote peace by our actions here in our neighborhoods, by our very presence here.

In the Gospel of Thomas, one of the ancient sacred texts found at Nag Hammadhi in 1945, “Jesus said, ‘If you bring forth what is within you, what you have will save you. If you do not have that within you, what you do not have within you will destroy you.’” What would it mean to bring forth what is within us? These words offer that if we don’t bring forth what we have inside us, then we will be destroyed. It seems like a rather dramatic statement but it may in essence be referring to our souls. The idea that we really must heed our callings or risk dying to ourselves in a sense. You may be able to remember a time in your life when you knew you were not following your calling. I have called it “half-living”; a feeling that I am making motions in the world and going about my business but my heart is not in the work. About six years ago, I sat with a friend and described my life to him in that way. He responded that it troubled and scared him, that me of all people, someone who loved life so much and seemed to want to be fully in it, felt like she was only “half-living.” Since that time, my life has changed in some fairly dramatic ways and I no longer have that feeling, at least I feel it much more rarely. I feel like I am living fully right now as I work and move within this congregation. My heart is in the work at South Valley. I do feel called to be here now. Where have you sensed a longing, a call from your heart to step more fully into your life? A whispered reminder of something more, something else.

The altar this morning is filled with literal and symbolic representations of Calling, ways that we find to express ourselves, share our creativity, talent, gifts we can offer, ways we can reveal our hearts to one another. There is a hammer, paint brushes, seeds…brilliant colors laid upon a canvas to represent the Divine; a hand carved flute to symbolize the calling to offer music; our new chalice of pottery, a gift from the pagan community to this congregation and a beautiful symbol of sacred art in physical form. All of these things are meant to symbolize the many ways that people are called to offer something back to the world. I would have included a photograph of this congregation on that altar if I’d had one as a reminder that our very presence here is a gift, even if we don’t Do or Produce anything in physical form like a chalice or musical notes. I would say that the way we greet each other at the door and speak about this community with those we encounter out in the world are ways that we are living out our calling. Actually a kind of community calling.
In the hymn we will be singing together “Here We Have Gathered” the words are fairly simple: “may all who seek here find a kindly word; may all who speak here feel they have been heard.” Offering thoughtful words to someone or giving them a few minutes of our time so that they can tell us something of how they are really doing that Sunday is important work. We are forming a sacred ground of communion with each other in those moments. We are allowing our hearts to be open to another. This is So needed in the world right now.

Craig and I used to live near a woman from Russia who was 101, and who I found to be quite amazing. Every day she would walk slowly around our block for an hour. If I happened to see her out walking, I would go and say hello, exchange a greeting. She might tell me something about her day – “Today I went to the senior club for exercise and lunch." Or she might say “today I went to services, you know to the Russian Orthodox Church on the corner.” I knew that her very being in the world held significance for me but it’s hard to say exactly what it was about her. Was it her incredible perseverance and determination to stay independent at 101 years old? Her unwavering faith in God and the church she had always been a part of? Something touched me about her, and has stayed with me. People can do that for us, simply through the quality of their presence. They don’t need to do anything more than just live. Often people we hold up as leaders within our UU heritage are memorable or important to us because of the ways that they were in the world; by acting with integrity, they helped to promote liberation from oppression or allowed this faith tradition to be strengthened. We are Called, as Unitarian Universalists to be advocates for justice and freedom, to be welcoming to everyone who comes through our doors, to spread the radical energy of love and compassion wherever and whenever we can. Yes, at the grocery store, yes on the highway, yes in our houses. We are called to be ourselves, and we are called to be more than ourselves. What does that imply? How can I be more than myself? How is that possible? How is that a paradox and not a contradiction. I interpret that to mean that first we must come home to ourselves. As Derrick Walcott put it: “…The stranger who has known you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart.” We do know ourselves, and I would offer that yes, it is important to acknowledge aspects that we would like to strengthen or do better at, and I would say we are our own worst critics. We are often quite hard on ourselves for all we haven’t done, haven’t accomplished. Perhaps this criticism obscures our sense of what we might be called to do or be. Just a thought. But to begin first with acknowledging that most likely you have done the best you knew how in almost all the situations of your life and to breath a sigh of living. As Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh offers: “Breathing in, I know I am here. Breathing out I know I am home.” I am Here. I am Home.

Perhaps in that process of coming home to ourselves, we step into a way of being that does allow us to be more than we have been, perhaps more than we thought possible. What is it that you have felt called to do in your life? And this “calling” can take many forms. I think calling is often equated with needing to accomplish something monumental or “big” in the world, but it can also be something that seems quite small. And this small or not so small thing that we need or want to offer, rebuilding our fence for example, or launching a new REGAL (religious education)program, no small task – will and does have consequences. Our presence and actions do have an impact, no matter how insignificant they may seem. I often think of our seventh principle and how it overlays onto calling. If we are an “interdependent web”, then everything I do or the way I am in the world, has an effect on all of the other parts of this network or structure. Poet Marge Piercy offers that we need to “weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses. Live a life you can endure: make love that is loving. Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in, a thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs. Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen: reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in.”
Often we get a clue, a glimpse of what this calling might be and often it hits us in an unexpected way. When I told my dad that our theme of the month was Calling, he sent me a description of a recent “revelation” as he called it, that had happened to him. He wrote: “I had what I’m calling a trigger/revelation/inspiration at the Grand Isle Nursery in Vermont. When I walked into the nursery on September 13, I felt a sweeping and overwhelming emotional experience, a tremendous love for the plants and trees. I have interpreted the "event" as a major sign to me not to forget to integrate the natural world of living green trees, plants, grasses into my Third Life (he is 65 this year); and to proceed with integrity and vigor on a plan that includes this vital element as the most important leg of my Life Trinity or Triad.” He realized that his love of flowers and green growing things had been a integral thread in his life ever since he was a young boy. He has actually been giving out what he is calling “his magic beans” (red runner beans) as a reminder for people to heed a “revelation” that might come at the most unexpected times, in the most ordinary of places.

Before this sermon is over I wanted to talk about the pigeon on the front of the order of service. I wanted to have the image of flying birds as it seemed to fit the theme of calling – perhaps flying into your day, or into your purpose in life. When I saw the pigeon with its beautiful wings getting ready to land, I knew it was perfect for this service. They are considered so common here, pigeons, flocks of grey birds everywhere in our cities, the “urban” bird. I wanted to make the connection that yes, pigeons are common, we see them all the time, and…look at the one on the front of the program. I found it to be unique and beautiful, flying into its own life, full of purpose. Though we may feel common, just one of the crowd, invisible even, we are not. We are unique and creative beings, capable of incredible things. But we need to allow ourselves to be seen. Here is a wonderful place to start. Here, in this congregation that encourages creativity and connection, that yearns to know itself better and to be more intimately involved with its own unfolding. We are this congregation. This is our community. The day will come, there is no doubt about that. The day will come when we will look into each others eyes like the mirror that Derrick Walcott spoke of, and see love and connection beyond what we can imagine. We are all capable of meeting and loving the stranger who is ourselves. As Sean’s opening words boldly stated: “We are called to live our lives fully and in the service of Love, this day and every day.” This is true. We are here to support each other in accomplishing this terrifying and wonderful and absolutely vital task. To create a community where love is infused into the very walls of this building, into our conversations, our work together. Can’t you see how exciting it is to support each other in celebrating the daily revelations that come unbidden and leave us both exhilarated and exhausted. This may be what people speak of in touching the hem of his garment, the fringe of the prayer shawl, only seeing the light briefly before it passes behind a cloud. I am offering that we need to look at ourselves in the mirror and recognize our own divinity; and if we do not feel ready to do that, then to look at each others faces and realize we are mirrors for each other.

I recognize that there are thousands, millions of people who do not have the luxury of even contemplating what they might be “called” to do or be, who don’t have the opportunity to sit here together in worship this morning. They are busy sorting through water soaked, dirty belongings to see if there is anything of their previous life of just a few weeks ago that they can salvage. Or they are trying to find something to eat in order to survive. I realize this is a reality that many people face. “Feasting on their life” is not possible for them. And I would say that this reality of hardship and crisis, these people, need our prayers and thoughts, our energy; and we must also know that creating a community where people’s creativity can blossom and where love abounds needs to happen too. This is important work also. The world of abundance and the world of scarcity exist side by side. In my own body and mind this is true.

This past Friday night at 5pm, I was desperate to mail a certain packet of materials at all costs. You can ask Craig. I was not myself and I was not feeling abundant and connected to a loving universe. I was desperate. And yes, the packet got mailed and I was at least civil to the person at the post office who helped me, and I was relieved. But what I recognized was how easily I could forget about the feasting, the abundance in my life and focus on the scarcity. Both exist at the same time and I believe it is a choice as to how we perceive our life.

There is an image that I find very powerful. It is of a person facing a prison wall, feeling herself to be locked in and unable to be free. Meanwhile, behind her the door is open and light streams in. If she would but turn around, she would realize that she could walk out freely into her own life. A life of her own choosing. I want to acknowledge again that we know people who are literally behind bars and walking free is not a choice they have. But Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in a South African prison and something kept him alive and gave him hope. I believe he was sustained by an energy larger than himself. He was open and preparing for the day to come when he would be free. I don’t believe he had any idea what an impact his very way of being would have on his country, and on the world.

What is this congregation called to be for each other and for the larger community? May we have the strength needed to look into our own mirrors, our own hearts and realize that the day will come. That the day is here, actually when we might embrace that calling, whatever it might be. We will decide together our own destiny.
May it be so. Amen.