Sermons

Abiding in the Real: Paying Attention, Staying True & Finding Hope

Responsive Reading
We Need One Another (from "Singing The Living Tradition" # 46,8 by George E. Odell)

We need one another when we
mourn and would be comforted.

We need one another when we are in trouble and afraid.

We need one another when we are in despair, in temptation, and need to be recalled to our best selves again.

We need one another when we would accomplish some great purpose, and cannot do it alone.

We need one another in the hour of success, when we look for someone to share our triumphs.

We need one another in the hour of defeat, when with encouragement we might endure, and stand again.

We need one another when we come to die, and would have gentle hands prepare us for the journey.

All our lives we are in need, and others are in need of us.

That is one of the first commandments, if you will, in the set of ideas that I want to offer this morning that I sincerely hope will help us face the difficulties into which our world has plunged with such ferocity. This sermon is called "Abiding in the Real: Paying Attention, Staying True & Finding Hope."

We need, now, more than ever, to pay attention to one another . . . because, now, more than ever, we need one another.

"We need one another when we mourn and would be comforted." How much there is to mourn this Sunday morning as our country's military forces, like the very Angel of Death, scream down upon the country of Iraq.

"We need one another when we are in trouble and afraid." So many of you have expressed to me your fears, fears that are identical to my own: fears for the people of Iraq, for the men and women of both armed forces, for the families of the soldiers . . . and fears for our Republic, which seems to have lost its bearings, and is hurtling down a path that defies democracy and feeds the insatiable lust of a military-corporate machine.

"We need one another in the hour of defeat, when with encouragement we might endure, and stand again." Encouragement, indeed! How much we need to be encouraged now: to speak our truths, no matter how afraid we might be; to admit our grief at the defeat of peace and peaceful methods of conflict resolution.

"We need one another when we would accomplish some great purpose, and cannot do it alone." The great purpose of creating a peaceful world is still before us . . . beckoning as it ever does, right at the center of our hearts. Right in that pulsing, yearning, living center where we know that peace is real, that it is good and that it is possible and that nothing else in its place will suffice.

We need to pay attention to one another now, now more than ever. And so . . . we gather. Abiding in what is real: the beating of our hearts, the inhalation and exhalation of our breath, the simple act of coming together, to feel our sense of connection, to rest in our mutual care and love for one another.

Feeling our connection, feeling the power of our mutual yearning for peace, I am aware, too, of another need I have . . . to pay attention to what I perceive to be true, to pay attention to the facts as I understand them, about our country and its leadership, and about my responsibility as a citizen and as a human being---which is the loyalty that Unitarian Universalism calls us to more than anything, our humanity. And by paying attention to what I believe is true, I affirm my loyalty, my staying true, to my deepest self, which is one of the sources of true peace.

Staying true, to my perceptions, to my convictions, to my understandings, to my need for community, to my need for peace, to my need to live out my deepest values . . . no matter what the cost, doing that I am led to the following questions:

Even if the assault that our country has launched against Iraq is wildly successful . . .

Even if this massive military aggression is extremely short in duration . . .

Even if it results in few people being killed, and enables humanitarian aid to begin swiftly

. . . will I be relieved? Will I be able to rest easy? Will the knot in the depths of my stomach, dissolve? Will the sense of unreality, strangeness and disconnectedness be dispelled?

Yes, yes, certainly to some degree. Yes, because I pray desperately that human life will be saved, will be treated with care, respect and dignity. I hope, from the depths of my heart, that the horrific violence of modern military warfare will only shatter a few lives, will only burrow itself into the psyches and memories of a very, unfortunate few.

But, no, no . . . for by this unilateral action that our country is taking in attacking Iraq, because a unilateral action is what it truly is, for regardless of what the leadership in the very few countries that are giving us any substantial support chose to do, the vast majority of the peoples of the world oppose this 'war'---No, no my dis-ease will not be dispelled by a swift conclusion to this attack, for by this unilateral action we have crossed a border into a land that is bleak and forbidding and unlike anything we have ever before known in all of human history and human experience

This is my perception. This is what my mind and heart and intellect, and the modicum of wisdom I have been able to glean from living almost sixty years on this planet leads me to understand, this is what I believe is the truth of what we now face.

The land that we have crossed over into, through the leadership of our current presidential administration and our national congress, is openly vicious and violent (for it openly incarcerates people without appeal, or trial, or even representation; it is, and not that covertly, using torture of prisoners to extract desired information, either by our own personnel, or by sending the prisoners to countries where they are tortured---19 prisoners we are holding in the no man's land of Guantanemo Bay have attempted suicide; and it extols the use, not only of 'conventional' weaponry, the destructive power of which is greater than anything ever before used, it has also reintroduced the idea of the use of nuclear arms as tactically legitimate); it is a land that is characterized by mendacity and manipulation (it baldly uses fabricated information, and distorted information, and the lack of information as proof for its militaristic designs); it is a land rank with the odor of hubris that has grown so since the Supreme Court of the U.S., using the deliberate pretext of an inapplicable constitutional provision, handed the presidential election to the man who, as supreme commander of the armed forces of the U.S., ordered the attack on Iraq.

For me, you see, what was wrong policy before this "war", is wrong during it and will be wrong after it. It sets the course of this nation on a path from which recovery will be very difficult, costly and will require a depth of humility we have yet to demonstrate, let alone to master. The pain we feel over this current war touches into a whole history of egregious assaults perpetrated in the name of this country, all the way back to our beginnings as a slave holding nation. Our nation is no different in the complexity of its consciousness than we are as individuals. Most of us carry experiences and memories of pain and trauma that, in one way or another, remain unresolved, unhealed. When we engage in behavior similar to that in our past, or when we are subjected to mistreatment that is similar, the earlier wound is re-inflamed, the memories held in our bodies, in our very cells, are awakened, are re-ignited. I believe we have entered such a time through our perpetration of this so called "War" on Iraq.

But, back to the point I was making: So we are now engaging in behavior that is in some ways not new at all, it has great historical precedents, and therefore it stirs our unconscious past collective grief, loss and helplessness---even as it raises, with a fresh intensity of their own, new feelings of grief, loss and helplessness. For . . . we are living now. This is the world we are making now. This is the history we are making and that we will leave as a legacy to our children and our children's children.

Yet it is far worse now, for we stand alone as the single country in the world that is a "super" power. It is far worse now, for as one of George Bush's admirers, Bob Woodward, quoted him as saying, "That's the interesting thing about being the President. Maybe somebody needs to explain to me why they say something, but I don't feel like I owe anybody an explanation."

Unearthing this kind of information, staying true to the power of my own reason to analyze, to dissect, to detect lies, half-truths and "spin," is a task I am called to as a citizen. It is a task I am called to as a person whose spiritual path calls me to be a democrat (with a small "d"). As a democrat I believe in democracy. I believe in the fundamental principles upon which this country was founded: the right to liberty, the right to free speech, the right to a fair and speedy trial, the right and the obligation to participate in the political governance of the republic---whether that conforms to the desires of those in power or not. And . . . the belief that as a citizen, and as a person of faith, I am called to determine for myself what I believe the truth is. I am called to support the fundamental concept that this is a nation governed by laws, not by personalities.

When asked if I should support the man who now serves as our president, I must respond, "Only if he is obeying the law!" I am called to support George Bush as a person, as a human person who is himself caught in a web of circumstances that is complex, and, in fact, terrible---just as I strive to support each and every person as a human being who feels and thinks, and loves and suffers. I am not, however, called to support his policies, his policy decisions, nor his vision for America and the world.

My belief in democracy, and my faith as a Unitarian Universalist, call me to look into my own heart and mind, and there to seek the truth as it is given to me and as I can best clarify it. When I do that today, I find that nothing is changed in my understanding because Mr. Bush has ordered our armed forces to attack the country of Iraq. I believed his policies and understanding were wrong about Iraq before the attack, and I still believe so.

When I look into my own heart and mind today, I find that I am called to support a larger vision for America than one based on the futile and impotent engines of war. I find that I am called to support democracy and not right wing ideologies about the free market, nor right wing theologies about America's destiny to rule the world. I find that I am called to support laws and policies and systems of governance that respect human dignity, that believe that diplomacy never comes to an end, and that foster a deep commitment to the democratic process.

And that leads me to the final idea in this sermon: Finding Hope. Where can we find hope? Is there any way for us to turn the lens of our perception, to open the window of our hearts, so that a vision of hope, in the midst of all this horrific difficulty, can rise fresh and strong and with a deep abiding power?

Yes, and yes and yet again, YES! Because our hearts do have windows. Because our minds can analyze. (And each of you is called to use those powers to come to your own understandings---which might very well lead you to disagree with mine.) And yes, because the capacity to pay attention is our birthright as human persons. Yes, because our moral resolve to stay true to what we determine is true lives at our very core. Yes, because we are capable, over and over, of admitting our need for one another---because we have one another in this community. And, finally: Yes, because this liberal religion, Unitarian Universalism, is a home where the search for truth is honored and the sustaining warmth of love is welcomed in.

May you find that hope, residing at the center of your being. Shining and true. Friendly and Caring. Enthused by the opportunity to live, now, in this world, no matter how difficult it is, and to make a difference.

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