How's It Going?
- Details
- Created on Sunday, 09 October 2011 01:00
- Written by Craig Nowak
[Before I begin...a word or two about sermon titles. Basically, sometimes they don't pan out. The title in your order of service is for a sermon that never made it onto the page...instead I give you the following sermon...Untitled]
Have you noticed the leaves lately? In my travels back and forth between my home in Connecticut and First Parish over the last few weeks I've witnessed the leaves ever so gradually beginning to change. The once verdant trees along my route are beginning to display faint patches of orange, gold, and red. Autumn is and always has been one of my favorite seasons. It is, to me, one of the great blessings of living in New England. The bright colors of the leaves and the increasingly crisp air can make us feel somehow more alive... sparking a sense of joy and gratitude for the gift of life. At the same time, autumn brings us shorter days... the trees, soon to be crowned with brilliantly colored leaves, will once again stand unadorned against a moonlit sky... and the crisp air that at first invigorates us will yield to chill of winter's breath.
Autumn is a season where we might find ourselves both inspired by life's beauty and haunted by its impermanence. It is a season of reflection... a season of embracing and of letting go...a season, our reading from today reminds us, for turning. Jews across the world celebrate this season with the Days of Awe, a ten day period encompassing Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which ended yesterday. During this time the faithful are called to serious reflection, to look back over the past year at where one has fallen short, and to engage in the practices of repentance and atonement.
This is serious spiritual work, work for those who, in the words of the Rev. John Buehrens, “ yearn for deepening more than escape; who can... be shaken in conscience... who are not afraid to grow in spirit.” It is work that we, as Unitarian Universalists are called to do. But it can be difficult for us to set aside time from our busy schedules to reflect on our lives...We „re so good at convincing ourselves that there are more important things...and more enjoyable things to do...I've know..I've been there. And really, life is short,...why look back, we may ask, at things we can't change?
The Rev. Jan Nielsen reminds us that according to legend, “on Rosh Hashanah, the gates of heaven open [ushering in] the Days of Awe, a time when humankind can move closer to God.” And, “One of the ongoing themes of the Days of Awe”, writes Tracey R. Rich, “is the concept that G-d has "books" that G-d writes our names in, writing down who will live and who will die, who will have a good life and who will have a bad life, for the next year. These books are opened and written in during Rosh Hashanah and sealed on Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement, but our actions during the Days of Awe can alter G-d's decree.” The actions, according to Jewish tradition that change the decree are "teshuvah, tefilah and tzedakah," repentance, prayer, good deeds (usually, charity).
Let's set aside any literal understanding of this story and instead mine it for the wisdom beneath the fanciful imagery. What is this story really about...what is it telling us about lives?
The word choice emerges for me. The story is about making choices. Think about it for moment. Heavenly gates opening...an invitation to something out of the ordinary...do we accept or decline? An opportunity to get closer to God...to engage life's mysteries...Do we welcome such an opportunity or push it away? So who's really writing these books here? The story says God is writing in the books, but it is our choices that determines the direction of the narrative. The story then, not only invites us to look back at our lives, it tells us that by looking back, the possibility of change for our lives is born.
Of course in looking back, we might find some mistakes, some things we wish we had or hadn't done...perhaps things we should or shouldn't have done. We might realize we've hurt others or ourselves...We might realize our choices have set our lives headed in a direction we hadn't intended. In looking back...and reflecting on our lives, we come to realize that our choices...the things we choose to embrace or resist, to hold onto or let go of determines the way we experience life and influences the way others read the life we've created, revealing to us in the process how well our lives are aligned with our deepest values as people of faith.
The Jewish tradition calls for repentance when a one's life is found to be out of alignment with one's religious values. Remember, repentance, according to Jewish tradition is one of the acts, along with prayer and charity, can change the “decree” or direction of our lives.
The truth is, however, repentance is an important spiritual practice for all of us. The Hebrew word for repentance is shoo-vog, meaning to return. It is, as this morning's reading states, “an act of will,” a first step toward reconciliation, toward realignment with the life we are called to live. Repentance demands we turn and look at the world around us...that we turn and look each other in the eye and risk believing we are one in the Infinite. Repentance is the catalyst that helps the possibility of change mature towards the reality of change...change that comes with atonement.
Atonement...reconciliation, reparation...making amends. Atonement allows us to begin again...to start over. And this is the hard part. There's no way around it if we're to truly change the direction of our lives...and the story world. It is not easy. It is messy work. It is uncomfortable and often asks of us more than we're ready to give. It is also deeply spiritual work and again, it is ours to do.
The challenges of atonement came to mind as I listened to interview recently with journalist Chris Hedges. He was discussing his book, “Death of the Liberal Class.” In it, Hedges, himself a liberal, talks about what he sees as the failure of the American liberal class and it's institutions, which includes liberal churches like ours, to effectively counter in words and deeds, the devastating influence of unapologetically corrupt corporate and political power on American society.
Further, he rails against the liberal church's default position of offending no one in the name of tolerance, a position he suggests has all but legitimated The Religious Right's, “acculturation of the Christian religion with the worst aspects of consumerism, nationalism, greed, imperial hubris, violence, and bigotry.” He brands the liberal church a sellout, arguing that “Liberal religious institutions, which should concern themselves with justice, embrace a cloying personal piety expressed in a how-is-it-with-me kind of spirituality and small, self-righteous acts of publicly conspicuous charity.”
Although he denies any intent to fire up or inspire action, Hedges seems to be calling religious liberals to reflect, repent, and atone for what he sees as its turning away from the concerns of a suffering world in exchange for the appearance of respectability. Hedges, who recalled, with a degree of sadness in his tone, the difficulties and scorn his father endured as a Presbyterian minister for his prophetic, progressive stance on justice issues still controversial in many churches even today, is convinced that the liberal church is too addicted to its comfortable position in American society to be taken seriously...let alone change.
Is he right?
His is a harshly worded indictment for sure. It is not an easy for us to hear. But whether you agree with the particulars of Hedges argument or not, he reminds us that a relevant faith is not an easy faith. Indeed, in the words of author Annie Dillard, “It is madness to wear ladies hats and straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets.”
And now the leaves continue their turning from green to red and yellow and orange...and the feathered and furry creatures turn to prepare for the coming winter...some departing for warmer climates. The Jewish High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur have passed. The Books of Life and Death are again closed for another year.
But here we are...Unitarian Universalists, each of us authors of our own narrative...contributing our part to the story of the world through our response to life...in words, attitudes, and deeds...choices me make every day.
What will you say with your life? How will the story read? Have you revisions to make...an endnote or two to insert to clarify your intentions? Or will your pages be clean...no eraser smudges...no corrections?
I want to leave you with short story which I hope you will accept as an invitation to make time for your own practice of reflection ...repentance...and atonement mindful that the intent is not to seek some form of perfection, but rather, to risk donning that crash helmet, to find the courage to turn towards life and begin again...and again..and again.
The story, I should point out is actually from a cartoon...(a comic strip)...from many years ago that begins with a person saying, “Sometimes I'd like to ask God why He [sic] created the Universe with so much poverty, hunger, and misery when He could have done something about it.”
“Well, why don't you?”, asks someone in the next frame.
“Because I'm afraid God might ask me the same question.”
And so we turn...and begin again. Amen and Blessed Be
Sources Consulted
A Chosen Faith - John A. Buehrens and Forrest Church
Death of the Liberal Class – Chris Hedges
http://www.jewfaq.org/holiday3.htm - Tracey R. Rich
Listening for the Voice of God – Marcus Borg
On Turning – Jack Riemer
What Will Be Your Mark – Jan K. Nielsen
© Craig M. Nowak 2011