Suffering

A recent satirical article featured alternative titles for Western literary classics. For example, Plato's "The Trial and Death of Socrates" became: "Athens Kills Its Best Unemployed Wise Ass." I love it.

Plato

When not being rebranded, Plato finds himself being misattributed. Turns out it was Philo of Alexandria, not Plato, who once uttered: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle." Regardless of its correct author, I wager this sentiment rings true for all of its hearers. It certainly speaks to the moving lay-led service this past Sunday, which showcased personal testimony about the emotional complexity of compassion. Amy Kavadlo probed: how do we extend compassion to the inconsiderate? Joe Ayoub added: what happens when compassion leads us to murder? And Jennifer Mulqueen exhorted listeners to find spaces in their life to openly share and collectively hold their great battles.

American pragmatist philosopher Cornel West writes that the condition of truth is to allow suffering to speak. Just as the jazz musician leans into the minor keys, so too the truth-teller must attend to the great battles that all of us wage deep within.

Others would dispute this claim, however, citing its fetish for the tragic. How often I have encountered the warning: don't release negative energy into the universe. Positive thinking, we're told, can serve as a powerful prescription, even if merely a placebo.

What role does suffering play in your worldview? Please: continue the conversation.

 

Immigrants

Arizona's infamous immigration law is but a symptom of our society's increasingly hostile attitude towards immigrants more generally. While pundits leverage arguments about immigrant groups breaking 'the law,' Parisa reminded us last Sunday of the contradiction built into that defense. How legal was the founding of this country, after all? Are we not heirs to "illegal immigrants"?

In 2009, Glenn Beck described the Pilgrims' march towards "freedom" as follows: "They fled their oppressive government in favor of sailing dangerous waters across a vast, largely unknown ocean in hopes of finding a new land and then not being killed by the American Indians." America celebrates this heroic journey every year during Thanksgiving. Rarely, though, do we stop to consider the Pilgrims of present day: those immigrants fleeing their own oppression in hopes of finding a new land, and a new life.

So how do we as Unitarian Universalists respond? Some lobby government, others supply water to individuals crossing the dusty borderland.

Please: continue the conversation.

Valentine

I always enjoy hearing bad pick-up lines, preferably not in action. And in February they seem to blossom into full absurdity. Some are unapologetically offensive; but some can be rather clever, or at minimum entertaining. Recently, I overheard the following (unsuccessful) attempt: "Excuse me - I seem to have lost my phone number, could I borrow yours?" An instant classic.



This past Sunday, I closed my sermon with an invitation to reconsider what it means to have, or be, a Valentine.

Compassion answers the question, “are we not of interest to each other?” with a bold: Yes. Yes, we are of interest to each other. Yes, our interests are of interest to each other. Compassion is about celebrating the things we love, more than sacrificing for the things we lament. The passion of suffering initiates, what only the passion of devotion can consummate.

This Valentine’s Day, pay attention to...the people who have come alive, and you with them. These are your saints. These are your Saint Valentines. Let them know.

And be warned: with enough compassion, you may soon be canonized by someone you don’t yet know.

You can watch the full sermon here.


How would you describe your Valentine? Please: continue the conversation.

Inspiring our Aspiring

In her annual "sermon on the amount" this past Sunday, Parisa called on all of us to bring our full presence, full passion and full commitment to First Parish. This church community would be little more than a coffee shop with weekly open-mic sessions were it not for the faithful witness, grand vision and deep contribution that members, friends and visitors bring to this historic place. 


Where two or three are gathered, there the Spirit descends; where two or three hundred are aligned in common purpose, there the Spirit takes flight.

I am reminded of one of my favorite lines from Goethe's poem "Divinity":

Let him be a model

For those beings whom he surmises.

In other words: let us be an inspiration for our greatest aspiration. Let us not only stretch ourselves into the serving souls we want to become. Let us stretch ourselves into their role models. Let us outgrow our own growth.

Can we do it? What is holding us back?

Please: continue the conversation.

Message

In the preface to their mid-seventeenth century catechism, the Polish Unitarians stated humbly: “We do not think that we ought to be ashamed if in some respect our church improves.” This openness to self-transformation and self-transcendence represents one of the greatest strengths of our Living Faith, in my opinion.

Theodore Parker

This past Sunday, I leaned heavily into its spirit, taking up Theodore Parker's infamous distinction between the transient and the permanent. While Parker's Truth (Jesus' Great Commandment) has since withered in Unitarian Universalist circles, his Technique persists. Unitarian Universalism's method of enlightened individualism ("the oracle God places in the breast"), I argued, has become its message. And while this method saves us, we require something more: a message that saves us from ourselves. Else, as Eric Hoffer warns, we risk devolving into “homeless hitchhiker[s] on the highways of the world thumbing a ride on any eternal cause that rolls by.”

Our message, as rooted in the testimonies of our ancestors, is on my view this: 

We are all of One Source and destined to One Salvation.

You can listen to the sermon in full here.

I am curious to hear your response to my polemics. Would you agree that our method has become our message? If so, are we in need of a supplemental message? How would you describe our message?

Please continue the conversation.

Bullying

I was sorry to miss the Youth Service today (on account of preaching responsibilities elsewhere). That being said, I had the pleasure of helping our youth practice last week - the "dress rehearsal," of sorts. It was especially powerful to watch them pledge their eyes, ears and hearts to curtailing teenage harassment. They saw themselves as anchors amidst the storms of peer pressure. They felt called to stand up, and speak out, for what they know, deeply, is right.


Much has been made of school bullying in recent months. Lawmakers, policy analysts and concerned citizens have offered a wide array of suggestions for how to curtail provocation and victimization. From closely monitoring a child's online activity to empowering teachers as safe allies, most every "solution" sounds reasonable, and seems welcomed. Heidi Saxton lists nine helpful tips for parents of bullied children.


All the same, I cannot help but wonder: is the ageless phenomenon of bullying as much a spiritual issue as it is a policy issue? Can we ever fully control a bully's actions without ministering to the emotional insecurities that prompt such behavior?


If, indeed, bullying has as much to do with how our children are, as how our children act, then what is our role as people of faith?


Please: continue the conversation.

Radical Welcome

This past Sunday, Jamez challenged our community to live into and up to its pledge of radical welcome. To open our doors to others, exactly as and who they are, is to open our hearts to difference and to open ourselves to change. We will be transformed in the very act of offering others religious transformation.


This topic sparked for me two primary questions: that of serving and that of deserving.


Our first question is this: whom does our radical welcome serve? Is our increased attentiveness to inclusivity a function of our desire to grow, or our desire to grow others? Truly, is this effort about making ourselves feel better, or about reaching out to our neighbors so that we may all make better lives?


Our second question is this: do we deserve to extend a radical welcome? We often take it for granted that others would join our ranks if only we would welcome them properly. But are we deserving of their presence? Does our faith have something to offer this world that other traditions do not? If we cannot answer this challenge in the affirmative with honesty and confidence, perhaps we would do well to focus on deepening our message alongside merely disseminating it.


Please: continue the conversation.