A Journey of Transformation
READING “The
Long Way Home” by Rachel Remen in Kitchen
Table Wisdom
Synopsis: Helene is an attractive woman
who spends an inordinate amount of time to ensure that she is seen that
way. She’s about to marry a man who
seems to have all of the qualities she would want – except: he lacks
passion. He asks her permission every
time he kisses her.
Caught in the dressing room of a
department store during the 1989
Helene discovers in crisis that by
dropping her façade of invulnerability, she opens the door to a new
relationship with her fiancé and with herself.
[Note: earlier in the service we held a
child dedication for Maggie Schmidt, new love of Steve and Sally Schmidt.
Because Steve is a member of St. Anne’s Catholic church, Maggie was baptized
there earlier this morning. To tie the two services together, we used some of
the same music in both services, and acknowledged some of the advantages and
challenges of this dual affiliation.]
Steve and Sally, I’ve seen the look of love
in your eyes when you hold Maggie, and I’ve even seen it in your eyes when
other people hold Maggie. It has been marvelous to share these first stages of
parenting with you. And I look forward to the day not too far off when Maggie
will be running home from preschool with crumpled sheets of paper splashed with
paint, beaming, “I made a turtle!” or “Look! It’s a pachycephalasorous.”
But even sooner will be those first
steps. Steps as tentative, perilous, and ambitious as your own wide-eyed steps
into parenthood. Through all of these experiences you’ll have the opportunity
to witness firsthand that joy, astonishment, fear, and hope, that comes with
discovery of one’s self and one’s world.
Maggie is still vulnerable, which is why
she needs parents. Maggie is still vulnerable, which is why you – and all of us
– need her.
Albert Schweitzer writes,
“I
listened in my youth, to conversations between grown-up people through which
breathed a tone of sorrowful regret which oppressed the heart. The speakers looked back at the idealism
and... enthusiasm of their youth as something precious to which they ought to
have held fast, and yet at the same time they regarded it as almost a law of
nature that no one should be able to do so.
This
woke in me a dread of having ever, even once, to look back on my own past with
such a feeling; I resolved never to let myself become subject to this tragic
domination of mere reason, and what I thus vowed in almost boyish defiance I
have tried to carry out.”
How is it that we travel so far from this
innocent faith in the magic and the possibility in life. And how is it that we sometimes look back
upon that innocence as if we’d rather still be there?
Methodist theologian James Fowler
suggests that we have the potential to progress through six stages of faith
development. I wrote these out in the
order of service because I’m going to move through them quickly, but I thought
you might want to reconsider them later. [You can also borrow Fowler’s book
from me.]

First, Innocence: Fowler suggests that we
begin with the dependent innocence of the infant, simply accepting the
worldview of our caregivers.
Then, Literalism: Perhaps we move on to a
second stage of literal acceptance of the family stories, beliefs and rules.
Taking everything at face value.
3rd, Loyalty: Perhaps we move
on to third stage, in which we integrate the contradictions of the family
stories into the practicalities of real life. But we continue to support the
given myth from the standpoint of loyalty.
4th, Critical Religion:
Perhaps we move on to a fourth stage, to critically
reflect upon the given religious philosophy, and to assert our own experience as authoritative.
5th, A Broader Perspective:
Perhaps we move on to a fifth stage, to recognize that our own experience is
part of the common experience of
humanity. In some ways stage 5 is a tour back to the beginning – a state of
willingness, vulnerability, a loss of conceit... (this is how babies can be
spiritual guides).
And finally, perhaps, though this is very
rare, we might move on to a place we could call sainthood or altruism or being
a Bodhisattva – a way of being in which the self is transcended, and we begin
to live a sacrificial life, offering ourselves for the benefit of the whole.
A glance at these stages would suggest
that the ideals of historical Unitarianism focus upon stage 4. Unitarians are
stereotypically defiant, and rationalistic, defining ourselves against the rest
of the world.
The original theology of Universalism, on
the other hand, might egg us on to stage five. Historic Universalism focuses
upon a sense of belonging, and what we have in common with others despite our
differences.
***
There is a danger, of course, in defining
stages such as this. Our lives likely embody pieces from each of these stage
every day.
And even if we are not operating at the
level of Sainthood at every moment ... we cannot wish ourselves – and we
certainly cannot wish anyone else – into another stage. We move on only when we
have completed the necessary developmental tasks to do so.
My message today is this: do so.
Step out. Open Up. Continue to Unfold.
Continue on the journey...one tiny step
at a time. And be thankful for the earthquakes and the major leaps forward;
even as you’re thankful that they don’t happen too often.
***
If it’s true about Unitarianism
representing Fowler’s fourth stage, and Universalism representing stage five,
then what, exactly, is the earth-shattering difference between them?
It may be the difference between ego and
spirit. Ego is the realization that I am different from “all those other things
out there.” And spirit is the
realization that I am the same as “all those other things out there.” Ego is about separation. And spirit is about
relationship. Both are essential to make
a whole human being. It is the task of religion (literally “re-linking”) to tie
them together.
I see myself as a Unitarian in practice
and a Universalist by ideal. And I wonder, I hope, I strive, I fantasize, and
once in a while I leap and grasp at these higher levels.
It’s risky. It’s hard enough to tread in
the waters of selflessness. It can be even harder because the people around us
don’t usually appreciate it when we change. Even if we change “for the better.”
If you start thinking, saying, or doing
things that sound suspiciously unlike the religious person you were yesterday,
your relationships with those closest to you will change.
I think about my relationship with all of
you. How would you take it if years from now I had to suddenly explain to you
that my religious philosophy is quite different from what it was when you
agreed to have me as your minister? Well, I suppose it had better be different.
But that transition needn’t be sudden.
Our responsibility to one another here, I believe, is to grow. Along the way I’ll be up front with you about
where I’m headed. Of course I’d like for
you to do the same with me – and with your friends here.... AND I’d like us all to refrain from freezing
our images of ourselves or each other in the frame of yesterday or even today.
***
When I begin to lose motivation to
continue on the private path of personal
transformation, I’m often jarred out onto the public freeway by its shrill and
demanding cry for healing.
At a library-book-sale once, Jane and I
picked up some old magazines for a project for her RE class. One happened to be
a TIME magazine from 1967 with a cover story about an interracial
marriage.
Pages and pages of scandalous discussion,
fearful speculation, and tasteless jokes....
I didn’t know, I did not expect – that still in 1967 interracial
marriage was seen as such a remarkable issue. And that in 16 states it was
still illegal.
I take it for granted that interracial
marriage will not be an issue for my children... and I am thankful to the work
of history and to the work of human hands that this great social transformation
has taken place.
But I can’t help but wonder: will my own
children pick up a TIME magazine from 2006 and be amazed at the scandalous
discussion, fearful speculation, and tasteless jokes about same-sex
marriage? Will they say, “I can’t
believe that was still an issue in 2006!”??
I can only hope that by taking the risk
to grow personally, we will again and again find the courage to transform the
system.
* * *
Most Unitarian Universalists come into
this organization from another religious tradition or from none at all. A good
number of us entered at Fowler’s stage four, as critics of religion and society, pleased that there was a place
that we could find ourselves and set aside a certain amount of nonsense from
our past.
I’ve taught an adult education class
called The
By understanding the religious
experiences of our early childhood, when we had no choice, and the later experiences for which we do have to take some
responsibility, we find ourselves better able to navigate the forks in the road
ahead.
Another important navigation tool, in
addition to the map of the road behind us, is a detailed description of the
spot on which we’re now standing. And so
I would urge you to consider writing it down...in a page or two...or if you’re
like me and you must devote a page or two to six or seven major topics, then do
that. Just do it. Not as an unchanging map of paradise, just as
a snapshot of where you lived in 2006.
I would then urge you to take some spiritual risks. If you don’t believe in god, try prayer
anyway. If you don’t like to be around
the poor go work in a soup kitchen...if you can’t stand teenagers, go volunteer
with them...if you don’t consider yourself creative, write or sing something
for us on a Sunday morning. It will not only help you grow, but as you grow,
you’ll discover new areas of risk taking to pursue.
And finally, if you came in here at stage
4 many years ago, and you find yourself outgrowing that, perhaps we need a way
of recognizing that growth. We don’t have any kind of formal recognition of
“elders” here, but we’re in the process of developing a coming-of-age program
for which we’ll need mentors... elders of sorts. Let’s talk more in the coming
weeks about how both young and old who are making these transitions can be of
assistance to one another.
In the meantime, consider the Mahayana
Buddhist ideal of the bodhisattva:
the one who, just on the brink of attaining enlightenment, voluntarily
renounces their salvation and returns to the world to enable others to reach
the goal.
If you can, imagine four travelers who
have traveled across an immense desert and finally come to a high wall
surrounding they-know-not-what. One of
the travelers is determined to climb the wall to see what is inside. And when he reaches the top, gives a shout of
joy and jumps inside. The next two do
the same. But when the fourth traveler
gets to the top of the wall...and sees below him an enchanted garden with
sparkling streams, pleasant groves, and luscious fruit, he resists the
temptation to jump over. Remembering
other wayfarers who are trudging the burning deserts, he climbs back down and
devotes himself to directing them to the oasis. The pledge of the bodhisattva is not to leave this world
until the grass itself is enlightened.
***
The new Pope, Benedict, just published
his first encyclical letter: “Deus Caritas Est,” God is Love. Within the
framework of our life’s unfolding, or within the framework of Fowlers stages, which level is love? Even as one who tends to be suspicious
of the anthropomorphizing of god, I can answer: He is in all of them. All of
the stages of faith development; through our birth and death and everything in
between. Deus Caritas Est.
For those of you who are
finding all of this Catholic stuff to bring on some inner earthquakes, let me
say: We have nothing to fear from such a God. Pope Benedict states clearly: The role of the church is to "bring
about openness of mind and will to the demands of the common good," not to
"impose on those who do not share the faith ways of thinking and modes of
conduct...."
As Valentine’s Day approaches let us
pledge to be this church. Regardless of which church we belong to. Let us at
least imagine such a love, surpassing
all others. And whether we name it Lord or Love, Source or Tao, mystery or God,
may we each answer the summons to love.