The Way of Faithfulness
A Sermon Given
by Rev. Dr. Roberta Nelson
March 22, 1998
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
Sisters, brothers,
Take your time, go slowly
Listen deep inside yourself
Simple things are holy.
Each time, I remember or say these words, I hear Dr. Maria Harris
singing them to us in a workshop on religious education for the whole
church. Maria Harris, like Padraic O'Hare and Gabriel Moran urge us
to consider education as a complex pattern of relationships between
persons and within communities of persons through which we strive
to be faithful, to learn faithfulness from others and to instill
faithfulness in others, especially those for whom we care. The
communities of which they speak will share a common vision of the
way of life -- a path of faithfulness.
To walk this path, we need to remember that faithfulness is not the
same as the practice of religion , education is never freely served by
instruction purporting to contain answers and religious communities
are not identical to religious organizations. All of these writers urge
us, each in our own way, to practice a more contemplative, reflective,
spiritual life. Thomas Merton says of contemplation, "It is the highest
expression of our spiritual and intellectual life. It is life itself freely
alive, freely active, freely aware that it is alive. It is spiritual wonder.
It is spontaneous awe at the sacredness of life, of being."
Writing sermons is not something I do easily and this one is no
exception. Sermons for me must be written from the heart and
hopefully will prod me to examine, to stretch the boundaries of my
thinking, to reevaluate some portion of who I am. This particular
topic has been on a back burner for awhile, actually ever since I
encountered O'Hare's book The Way of Faithfulness.
Like most of you, I would like to be centered, focused and grounded.
I would like my life to be nurtured and enhanced by times of quiet
and reflection -- as the old hymn says, "A poor life this, if full of
care, we have no time to stand and stare."
However I, as well as you, live in a time of over abundance: we have
almost too much of everything -- the media, e-mail, fax, T.V., sports,
work, schedules, family demands, travel schedule and overtime. How
amidst all this busyness do we carve out time "To stand and stare?"
On almost a daily basis, someone poses that question to me. Hoping
against hope that I can help them find a different path. I can't -- I
struggle with the same issue myself. I can only share with them some
ways that have helped me along and I assure them that there are no
easy or quick solutions. Each of us will take a few steps forward and
a step or two back and this may always be, but we will and do make
progress. It is always the beginning that is the hardest, for the place
where spirituality and values intersect has not been marked on our
road map. We have had few hints or clues. Carl Jung spoke of each
person having his or her individual calling which draws them into
wholeness.
I feel fortunate to be a morning person -- I grew up in a family of
morning people, so I suspect I had little choice. Once the day starts,
it seems impossible to carve out time to "be". In the early morning
after Chris leaves I have about a half an hour when I am free of the
busyness of the day -- I do not plan the day or try to arrange a myriad
of things. I just sit and stare at the yard with its ever changing
landscape -- I have missed the snow this year - its quiet beauty
soothes my soul.
I experience the same feelings at the beach in summer -- the waves
lapping the shore, clouds moving across the sky, sail boats gliding.
I also can experience a sense of groundedness when I rock my
granddaughter Julia -- or when I am alone in the kitchen cooking.
Cooking for me is very therapeutic -- I get out of sorts if I am away
from "real" cooking for very long. In spite of knowing what I need
and what sustains me, I can be easily distracted by the frantic,
fragmented world in which we live.
Kathy Hurt in one of the UUA meditation manuals says, "The
universe shifts when we ask 'Why?' Things do not look the same
after that question 'Why?' Although we may go on our usual routine,
it will not feel usual any more because that 'Why?' has intruded.
Wondering 'Why?,' reflecting on the meaning of what we do,
indicates that our lives are about to move in a new direction.
-- 'Why calls us to an adventure.' "
The adventure can begin with teachers. Contemplative teachers are
artists -- ones who hand on clues. "Teaching," writes Maria Harris,
"is the creation of a situation in which students are handed over to
themselves allowing content to emerge, discourse to occur, ideas and
insights to develop." This kind of teaching creates a place to ponder
the known and the unknowable and nurtures our attempts at answers
from the mystery and awe at the center of our being.
In their chapter on spiritual wellness in The Secrets of Strong
Families, DeFrain and Stinnett, heard from adults and children that
their deep spiritual calling gave them strength in darkest times,
provided hope and purpose, and truly changed their lives. Spiritual
wellness which I believe comes from contemplation, encompasses
self esteem, integrity, values, ethics, and honesty. It helps to develop
love and compassion and the ability to transcend oneself and to
become something larger. It is both inward and outward looking.
Many people interviewed about their spiritual life maintain that the
challenges and trials of life are bearable and surmountable because of
the spiritual sources they can tap. Without the spiritual center they
feel they would have less focus and direction in their lives. They feel
saved from alienation and feel more connected to others, which gives
them hope and confidence. This hope and confidence opens new
possibilities and direction for living. Their wellsprings of reverence
for life and a sense of the sacred come from their spiritual center.
In The Good Society, Robert Bellah, and his collaborators, observe:
From the time we were children we were told by our
parents and our grammar school teachers to "pay
attention!" In more or less peremptory ways we have
been receiving the same message ever since. Even
though we may have grown inured to this injunction
and shrug it off, there are few things in life more
important. For paying attention is how we use our
psychic energy, and how we use our psychic energy
determines the kind of self we are cultivating, the
kind of person we are learning to be.
Meditative practice leading to contemplative being is a matter of
learning to pay attention.
Most if not all people sense the spiritual in times of silence. This
silence is not easy to hold. I know from experience that I can try to
grasp the silence only to be drawn away by demands, worries and
preparations. My mind begins to work overtime and I lose the
possibility of the wellspring of strength that can come from the
silence. A few years ago, I attended a three day seminar on Native
American spirituality. Our leaders described to us their preparation
for the conference. It would be a hard lesson for rational, verbal UUs.
They entered a sacred space and remained silent for the two and a half
days before the conference. They came to us fresh from the
experience, sharing their knowledge and insights.
In the silence we can hear the humming of the spirit. There is a
quality of mystery in the silence. It can be spoken of in many ways
-- it is power and wisdom, it can underlie decisions and emotions
and behaviors. It can speak to beauty and truth. It says yes to the
mystery of being alive. It can appreciate the gift of life itself. In the
silence we can receive, accept and trust. The spirit can live in us
when new life is born, when old truths are doubted, when new truths
emerge, when we look at another and begin to understand each other's
world, when compassion is expressed, when healing is experienced,
when love is given and received.
We may need time to go apart to clarify the meanings in our lives, to
reconsider our direction, or to grasp some sense of peace within
ourselves. But it is hard, just as day in and day out is hard, and often
we feel we haven't a chance.
I do not have an answer. Instead I offer a hope that if we begin here
-- in this space and at this time we will gather up the courage to ask
not only why, but why not now, and to move toward the place where
spirit and values intersect.
Last modified: Mon Jul 13 14:24:24 EDT 1998
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