What's Love Got to Do With It?

WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?

Rev. Kit Ketcham, March 13, 2016

PUUF

Part I (After the offering/Spirit of Life)

            I was thinking about the sermon the other morning, getting ready to sit down and write, a little pensive because my own experiences with romantic love, at least, have been a little erratic, a little unsatisfactory, and quite a lot painful at times.  I bet I’m not the only one here in that position!

            And as I was reflecting that morning, I realized that though I may not have a lot of great romantic experience, I (and maybe we) have had plenty of experience with deep love, a wider love than romantic love, and an old hymn, written by George Matheson and published in 1882, popped into my head.  I’ll read you the words of part of it.

            “O Love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee,

            I give thee back the life I owe, that in thine ocean depths its flow

            May richer, fuller be.

            O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;

            I trace the rainbow through the rain and feel the promise is not vain

            That morn shall fearless be.”

            This is a very old hymn out of what I think of as the mystical tradition of Christianity, far removed from the literality of much of today’s traditional doctrine, and set firmly in a faith that recognizes the depth and breadth and universality of Love, linking to the depth and breadth and universality of Joy, its sister.

            I offer you this vision of Love to set the path for our reflection today.  We’re going to look at Love in three ways:  the way of our most intimate relationships with beloved individuals; the way of our relationships within this congregation; and the way of our relationships with the wider world beyond these walls.  And we’ll link it to Joy, its ultimate reward.

            I want us to look at Love---and Joy---as bigger than temporary romantic thrills.   I want us to look at these two life forces as essential to our lives as individuals, our lives as a community, and our lives as contributors to society.

            I invite you to close your eyes for a moment or two and let yourself think about the love in your life, particularly the love you receive and give to the persons and creatures in your life, now and back as far as you care to go.  (moments of silence)

            With your eyes still closed, answer this question either quietly to yourself or aloud:  “Who do you love?”  (say names silently or out loud, as you wish).  And then this question:  “Who loves you?”  (again, silently or aloud, as you wish)

            What are the features of that love?  Deep love may be physically intimate or not; it may be painful at times, it may be exuberant or serene.  It may be all of these things.  Much of it depends on the nature of our interactions with the persons or creatures we love.  It takes thought to express love in ways that the other person or creature can receive.

            How do we express our love to a dear person or a dear creature?  You notice I’m including non-human beings in my wonderings.  Many of us live with a mate but almost as many of us live with other creatures---pets or wildlife or growing things.  What tenderness do we offer to the living beings in our lives?  How does that tenderness and affection freely given enhance our life together?

            I don’t have a mate, at least currently!, but I have always had cats.  Cats who thrive on my attention and care, cats who purr noisily in my lap, who gobble down the expensive special diet food I spoon into their bowls, cats who  are sort of glad to see me when I come home, cats who receive the best care and affection I can give them.

 And what do we receive from those living beings?  We can’t order our beloved ones to treat us in certain ways; we generally have to learn how our mates or children or pets or other beings give love.

As my son grew up, his ways of expressing his love grew up too.  From a child who was openly affectionate as a toddler, he morphed into a teenager who walked 20 feet behind me in the mall when we went to buy school clothes but who produced a wooden plaque with the phrase “Cherish Love” carved into it for my birthday. 

As an independent adult, he has stood with open arms, laughing as I rushed to hug him as tight as I possibly could when he arrived for a vist.  Gifts were literal expressions of love, like the handwritten parchment on my wall saying thank you for a life of love.  He has learned to express love in ways that I deeply appreciate.  And he listens to me, which is a huge gift.  He doesn’t necessarily agree, but he listens and responds thoughtfully.

When we are in relationship with those closest and dearest to us, we usually make a strong effort to keep those relationships warm and rewarding for both parties.  It isn’t always easy.  Sometimes dear ones are estranged from us; sometimes it takes a lot of work not to throw up our hands in frustration and give up, especially when there are major points of disagreement or dissatisfaction.

But if it’s worth it, if there are many years invested, if there are others to consider, we tend to make the effort as long as we can, not wanting to let go of a love that has been sustaining in the past and might be again.  We are instinctively, I think, committed to love as long as we can manage it.

Our desire and instinct to love those closest to us does not die just because we are angry with each other.  It takes a betrayal or serious injury of some kind to discourage that instinctive behavior.  Chances are we have all been there.  Chances are we, right now, have a great deal of love to give the beloved ones in our lives, a great deal of love to give away.

One of our UU composers, the late Malvina Reynolds, wrote “Love is something if you give it away, you end up having more.  It’s just like a magic penny; hold it tight and you won’t have any.  Lend it, spend it and you’ll have so many they’ll roll all over the floor.”

And Fred Small, another UU composer, writes in his song “Everything Possible”:  “You can live by yourself, you can gather friends around, you can choose one special one, and the only measure of your words and your deeds will be the love you leave behind when you’re done.”  With those words in mind, let’s continue with our service.

Part Two  (after Candles of the Heart)

            Let’s sit for a few moments in silence and consider what the experience of Candles of the Heart means to us (silence).  As we have listened to the joys and sorrows of our gathered community, I’m wondering what thoughts and feelings arose for you as our fellow congregants spoke of their lives.

            This time during our service gives us a chance to learn what’s going on in others’ lives, their struggles, their griefs, their hopes, their joys.  As we listen, we may have a myriad of varied reactions.

            We may feel compassion or sorrow at hearing of a loss, eager to help if we hear of a need, tickled by a triumph, joyful at a birth or achievement.  But Candles of the Heart is a snapshot, a bird’s eye view of  our Fellowship.  In these moments we have a chance to see the humanity, the much-varied lives of our fellow seekers.  It can feel sweetly sentimental or jarringly tragic.  But our lighting of candles at this time always invites us into a place of shared life—and love—with our community.

            We are reminded during this time of our shared life, of the losses we have faced and may still face, of the joys we have experienced and have yet to experience.  We grieve and rejoice together for a few moments during our service.  It’s important to know of the struggles and victories that we individually are facing.  The kind words and hugs that follow these sharings are one way we can help each other. 

            Our life experiences help to create the atmosphere of our community.  And just as in a family, discomfort and conflict can arise among us, just as a result of our own experiences and the challenges of being together as a community.

            If we are grieving, we may feel a bit cranky or short-tempered.  If we are rejoicing, we may be impatient with another’s grumpiness.  We can’t always understand where another person is coming from.  For example, if I am grieving some loss and am just trying to make it through the day, I may misinterpret someone else’s words as hurtful, when they are not intended to be.  If I am joyful about some event, I may not realize that my excitement may be seen as a slight to someone else.

            Life together can be complicated, can’t it?

            When I first went to Whidbey Island to serve that congregation, we both had been through tough congregational experiences.  I had made some rookie type mistakes when I was at Wy’east  and though we settled our differences amicably, I decided to move to another congregation after a few years.  The Whidbey Island folks had had to ask a disruptive person to leave the congregation and had lost members in the process.         

            We were both in need of some healing, and as we learned to trust each other, we began to use an affirmation every Sunday to remind ourselves of our ties and our commitment to the health of the congregation. 

That affirmation went like this:  “Love is the spirit of this

congregation and service is its practice.  This is our great covenant, to dwell together in peace, to speak truth in love, and to help one another.”  That affirmation became a part of our worship ritual and led  eventually, to the development of a Covenant of Right Relations, best practices for maintaining the spiritual health of the congregation.

            In voting on acceptance of the Covenant, members and friends were acknowledging how tricky it can be to get along with each other all of the time, especially in times of growth and times of decision-making.  Even the most serene among friends can get testy and crabby if their toes are stepped on, even accidentally.

            Here at PUUF, we are in a process of discernment:  we have grown more in the past couple of years than we have for a long time and we are apparently outgrowing this space, particularly when we are all assembled downstairs after the service.

            We have a Facilities committee that is evaluating this building and other possible locations for their suitability as we continue to grow.  A change of location can be a very stressful challenge for anyone---a single person, a family, a congregation.  We want to do this in a democratic way and there will be decisions to make during the next several months.

            This can be a difficult time for us and it is valuable to remember our unspoken agreement to stay on good terms with one another .  I say unspoken because we don’t have a written Covenant or even a ritually spoken one.  However, our daily behavior with one another implies that agreement; we want to get along. 

            Let’s consider these ideas as we move forward now in our service.

PART III  (after anthem)

            The Rev. Dr. Rebecca Parker, president of Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley, has written:

Your gifts---whatever you discover them to be—

Can be used to bless or curse the world.

The mind’s power

The strength of the hands,

The reaches of the heart,

The gift of speaking, listening, imagining, seeing, waiting,

Any of these can serve to feed the hungry,

Bind up wounds,

Welcome the stranger,

Praise what is sacred,

Do the work of justice

Or offer love.

Any of these can drawn down the prison door,

Hoard bread,

Abandon the poor,

Obscure what is holy,

Comply with injustice,

Or withhold love.

Choose to bless the world.

The choice to bless the world can take you into solitude,

To search for the source of power and grace,

Native wisdom, healing and liberation.

More, the choice will draw you into community,

The endeavor shared,

The heritage passed on,

The companionship of struggle,

The importance of keeping faith,

The life of ritual and praise,

The comfort of human friendship,

The company of earth,

The chorus of life welcoming you.

None of us alone can save the world.

Together---that is another possibility.

Waiting.

            How are we as a community blessing the world?  Let’s reflect silently for a few moments on this thought.  (silence)

            I noticed a church marquee sign not long ago, which stated “Do the Math!  Count Your Blessing!”  I think they might have left off the “s” at the end of the word Blessing, but I kind of like the way it turned out, because my reaction was “Yes!  My blessing counts, in this world!  I can bless the world, with my every action.

            Those of us who grew up in strict Bible-based churches might have gotten the notion that only God---or a clergyperson---could give blessing, that ordinary people were not “blessed” with that ability.

            But I disagree.  We are all capable of giving blessing.  Our every act of kindness, of giving love, is giving blessing.  When we raise our arms in an arch over our children as they leave for their classes, we are giving them our blessing as a community.

            When we offer love to any living thing, we are giving blessing.  When we take care of our own health and needs, we are blessing.  When we offer kindness to mates, kids, friends, we bless them.  When we care for the earth, whether by refraining from hurting it, whether by a garden or indoor plants or watching protectively for wildlife on the roads, we are blessing the earth and its creatures.

            So circling back around to the title of this sermon, “What’s Love Got to Do with It?”, here’s what I think:  Love has everything to do with it.  Love is our super power.  It affects every aspect of our lives and can be used to heal or….if warped and maimed into falseness, it can be used to destroy.

            We can choose to bless or to curse each other, our community, and the world.  If we bless, the outcome is Joy; if we curse, the outcome is Despair.  What will we choose?

            Let’s pause for a time of silent reflection and prayer.

BENEDICTION:  Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together, is ended, but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place.  Let us go in peace, remembering that the power of love is our power, our strength, our opportunity.  May we go forth in love to bless the world, to bless our community, and to bless all those we love.  And in so doing, may we reap the blessing of Love, which is Joy.  Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

CLOSING CIRCLE

Evolution Rocks!

EVOLUTION ROCKS: THE SERMON
By Rev. Kit Ketcham, Feb. 14, 2016

Last week, as I listened to Kjirsten and sat and talked with her during our social hour, I was struck by how much she and I have thought about the same things---the ways religion has shifted attention and understanding away from the philosophical ideas which originally undergirded many religions.  My thoughts today are somewhat connected to last week’s topic as the conflict between evolution and fundamentalist theology has underscored that divide. 

I’m one of the signers of the Clergy Letter Project, which I signed several years ago, I have spoken on the interface between religion and science a few times.  Kjirsten’s words have given me more to think about!

Let me start with a story from an earlier life.
     I wondered what my Dad was thinking as we sat side by side in the tiny theatre on the Linfield College campus, my freshman year. It was Parents’ weekend, and my folks had driven from Athena to McMinnville to spend the weekend with me. I was excited about the opportunity to introduce them to my college life, to some of my professors and my new friends, and to walk with them around our beautiful campus.
     One of the highlights of the weekend was to be a theatre production by student actors, so I bought three tickets and after dinner on Saturday night in the campus dining room, we entered the small space and found our seats.

     The play was “Inherit the Wind” by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Lee, a dramatization of the famous Tennessee trial, in which Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan squared off over the state law which prohibited the teaching of evolution in school classrooms.
     I had had no teaching about evolution in my high school biology class. Somehow the creation of the earth had been skipped over entirely and we’d gone straight on to dissecting earthworms without considering where the earthworms came from.

    Every church in the county taught the story of Genesis as historical fact and I had never heard a dissenting voice on the matter. Nor had I heard any voice dissenting with the Genesis story.

     Or should I say stories? Because there is more than one Genesis account of the creation of the earth and its creatures. We’ll get to that later.
     But for now, I sat there oblivious, watching the play. I was more interested in the friends I had in the cast and how they were doing, than I was in what seemed to be yet another story about how we all got here. I was not a very adept theologian—or science student--at that point in my life!
     The characters sparred over Biblical references that lacked logic, with one character needling the other with questions like “where did Cain’s wife come from if Adam, Eve, Cain and Abel were the first humans?” and “what would happen if the sun stood still as it is written in the story of Joshua who needed more time to win a battle?”  The other would answer that he believed God had his own ways of making these things happen and that he believed firmly that these things were God’s will, even though he couldn’t explain them any further.
     I wonder what my mother thought as she listened politely, knowing that my father’s beliefs were being systematically questioned and deconstructed as we sat there.

     It took me long years to recognize how hard it must have been for both of them to sit quietly and not get up and leave the theatre. It may have been a relief to them that I was more interested in pointing out my friends in the cast than discussing the topic of the play.

            Of course, it looked like Genesis came out on top at the end of the play, as Scopes lost and the law won, at least temporarily.

    I didn’t realize at the time that “Inherit the Wind” was making another point as well: condemning the recently concluded anti-Communist investigations of the House Unamerican Activities Committee, headed up by Senator Joe McCarthy.
     The play was about intellectual freedom, of course, not specifically about evolution, but for my parents, it must have been a shock to see that the nice Baptist college they had sent their innocent daughter to was a hotbed of modernism.

To their credit, they did not yank me bodily out of school and make me go to Multnomah School of the Bible instead. They continued to help with my tuition, gave me encouragement at every turn and never criticized when I’d write home about all the exciting things I was doing.

     But somehow I figured out that my parents and I were on two different tracks when it came to the Bible and Christianity.
And I began to be very careful about what I revealed about what I was learning. I did my best to stay within the lines they’d drawn, at least at home. My dad’s health was an issue and I was afraid to upset him, for fear it would trigger a heart attack or other setback.

And I loved my parents deeply. I could not bear the thought of being estranged from my family.
     So I got adept at finding the metaphorical meanings of the scripture, rather than the literal meaning, and when we did talk, I thought metaphorical truth while they undoubtedly thought literal truth. The Genesis stories were metaphorical and mythical, not historical, in my mind, but I was not going to tip my hand.

     That metaphorical meaning of the Genesis account was underscored by my Old Testament professor in seminary many years later when he pointed out that there were actually two different stories of the creation in Genesis, not just one.
     The first story is the poetic tale of seven days of work, six days of separate physical acts of creation, and ending with a day of rest on the seventh day. This story runs from Genesis 1, verse 1, through Genesis 2, verse 6, and then seems to change and tells a much different version of the creation, with no mention of seven days and with an extended description of Adam and Eve and the life given to them in the garden of Eden.

     This version brings forth the ancient tale of Eve’s being created from Adam’s rib and describes the story of the serpent’s temptation and betrayal, resulting in Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the garden for disobeying the order of God not to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
     If you read the King James Version, which is all we had for centuries, you would miss the distinctions between the two stories; it would look as though the author simply took a different tack and decided to retell the story from a new angle.
     But Biblical scholarship over the past century has noted the use of two different names for God, one from Canaanite culture and one from Judean culture, two different emphases, (the first on physical creation and the second on moral issues), and two different orders of creation (the first naming plant creation before humans, the second naming human creation before plants).
     These differences led most scholars to believe that these are two distinct stories, written down centuries apart, by two different sources. One story seemed clearly to be the sort of tale told around ancient campfires, a way of explaining the existence of human beings, the creatures who lived in proximity to those humans, the usages that humans were to make of those living things, and the need for rest after many days of hard work.
          The second story is of moral importance, whereas the first is an oral legend of physical creation. The second story describes God’s relationship with his human creation; this story is of a parental figure who commands obedience, gives many gifts and requires discipline and resistance of temptation, temptation he has set before them. When his children succumb to that temptation, he punishes and curses them.
     The first story describes a benevolent creator; the second, a paternalistic, vengeful figure.
     Today, the Sunday nearest the date of Charles Darwin’s birth on Feb. 12, in 1809, 207 years ago, we are celebrating The Clergy Letter Project, founded by Dr. Michael Zimmerman, a professor at the Evergreen State College in Olympia, which has had as its goal, for the past several years, proving that science and religion are not incompatible, that thousands and thousands of clergy from all faiths understand the importance of science and religion in human lives and believe that the two disciplines do not have to be mutually exclusive.

     Dr. Zimmerman has written the following: Ever since the Scopes Trial in 1925, evolution has been under attack by those who think it is more important to promote their narrow religious perspective than to understand the natural world. In the immediate aftermath of the Scopes Trial, virtually all traces of evolution vanished from American science textbooks and evolution remained missing until the early 1960s, when Americans realized that Soviet science education was fast outpacing American science education.
     Creationists, in the name of religion, first outlawed the teaching of human evolution and then, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that unconstitutional, they began to use a number of ruses to promote their religious doctrines by claiming they were in favor of freedom of inquiry.

They pretended to turn their religion into science by calling it "creation science" and when that too was ruled unconstitutional they changed the name again and promoted "intelligent design." The U.S. courts also ruled that strategy unconstitutional.

        Despite all of these legal setbacks, creationists have kept up their relentless attack on evolution, the most important concept in all of biology. It has been termed a religion. It has been portrayed as nothing more than a "theory." And it has been characterized, by those with precious little biological background, as pseudoscientific claptrap.
     Despite the lack of intellectual and scientific substance to the attacks on evolution, the constant refrain from creationists that evolution is responsible for virtually all of modern society's ills has largely shaped the public's perception of the issue.…
     (The Project) purposefully brings attention to (an) issue that religious fundamentalists find most abhorrent. (Project) participants are not looking to deify Darwin, however. Instead, they are simply attempting to demonstrate that his ideas, reshaped enormously in the 157 years since he published On the Origin of Species, are important to a modern worldview and are fully compatible with modern religious teachings. By doing this, they are proudly taking active steps to publicly define religion in a positive manner.
     Other authorities support and amplify Zimmerman’s case. Paul Horwitz, a physicist turned education researcher, in an online article published by Education Week, says this:
     “My opinion is that creationism in all its forms, including intelligent design, is not science; and that it is vitally important that we not teach nonscience as if it were science… Creationism is not science because it introduces causes outside of nature in order to explain observations of nature… Theories like that do not foster inquiry; rather, they close off discussion…That’s why creationism shouldn’t be taught as science,  because it isn’t science.

     The intersection of religion and science has become a political issue, pitting those who would ban these scientific findings in classrooms against those who see it as an issue of intellectual freedom and a violation of the separation of church and state. Creationists tend to see the issue as a denial of God and often call their adversaries “atheists” and “heretics”.
      Charles Darwin himself had doubts about his faith, as he explored his findings and the conclusions they led to. He struggled with friends and family who tried to get him to set aside his work and cleave to a traditional faith. But he could not set aside his reasoning and his integrity in order to stay within the bounds of his culture and society.
     Charles Darwin was one of us, a Unitarian from birth, though in later life he attended Anglican schools. Eventually he married Emma Wedgwood, a strong Unitarian herself, who accepted his ideas but feared that his radical beliefs might separate them in the afterlife. (I guess she wasn’t also a Universalist, or she would have known better!)

    Though Darwin’s findings were revolutionary and controversial, they gradually found acceptance across the scientific community and even among liberal clergy in the Anglican tradition. Darwin had started out an orthodox believer, but after his voyage on The Beagle, where he collected much of his information and knowledge, he became an avowed agnostic and no longer attended any church.

    He died a wellknown, if not completely well-accepted, scientist and philosopher. He was wrongfully associated with the proliferation of such ideas as Eugenics and Social Darwinism, theories which invoked ethical concerns about treatment of the poor and sickly. He himself did believe that females were less eminent than males because of sexual selection, but a woman named Antoinette Brown Blackwell, the first woman ordained to parish ministry in the United States, disputed that claim eloquently in her own writings.
     In recent years, I’ve become more and more concerned about what I see as the creeping miasma of distrust of and resistance to science and other intellectual contributions to human life and understandings.
     It’s probably a good thing to be critical of science, to investigate for ourselves the claims of research and to be aware of the many temptations scientists have, as they scramble for funding of their research and deal with the promises of money in exchange for certain findings, particularly as our economy has been stretched tighter and tighter and research is often paid for by corporations, not unbiased regulatory agencies.

    But it feels to me like a place where Unitarian Universalists can contribute to a greater understanding of the scientific process, the findings of science, the ethical issues involved, the intended and unintended consequences of each new finding. It might be a possible topic for us as a congregation to present in community forums and dialogs about science issues, using instructors from Clatsop CC or other higher education institutions.  We did this one year on Whidbey Island, with some real success.

     It felt like a social action project of sorts, to offer to the community an opportunity to discuss with women and men who are deeply involved in their various scientific discipline, to ask them pointed questions about the ethics and consequences of their discoveries, and to dispel some of the suspicion which is so prevalent in society.     

     But, returning to the evolution debate, I am convinced that the issue for the fundamentalist community is one of fear, fear of changing beliefs, fear that the consequences of that change will be a crisis of faith for individuals and congregations.
     For after all, humankind’s understanding of the power beyond human power, which many call God, has changed radically as science has advanced our knowledge of the universe. Our little world was once considered to be the center of creation and we believed that the sun, moon, and stars revolved around it every day and night.   

     We were the most important place in the universe and under God’s special care. As our knowledge of the sun, moon, and stars grew, we began to understand that we were only one of billions of planets and solar systems, our sun only one of millions of suns, our world a speck in the sky to somebody else.
     Change is hard. Change is scary. And though I still wonder about my parents’ thoughts on that night in 1960, I am confident that, if there is any consciousness left to them after death, they have more understanding of it all than I do. I can only do my best to comprehend the mystery of creation and what it means in our world today. And I think that, if they were able to tell me anything today, they would tell me that they love me and trust me to do my best to understand and to serve the world with my understanding.
     Let’s pause for a time of silent reflection and prayer.

As Tim extinguishes our chalice, let’s close with the benediction.

BENEDICTION: Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together, is ended, but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place. Let us go in peace, remembering that Science and Reasoning are foundational to our religious life but that they are not deities to be worshipped. They are tools to use as we discover the meaning of life. May we be gentle with those who disagree with us and may we serve our world with compassion and strength. Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

Chaos and Grace

WINTER REFLECTIONS:  CHAOS AND GRACE

Rev. Kit Ketcham, PUUF, Jan. 10, 2016

            Seth Tichenor’s message last Sunday really rocked me.  Seth’s a good speaker no matter what he’s talking about, but last Sunday I found myself thinking “Gee, this guy ought to be a preacher!”  You may know that he is actually qualified to be a preacher.  But he is, I think, one of the outstanding people in this community.  And I’m proud to say he is a fellow Linfield College alumnus.

            The part of his remarks that had me reaching for a scrap of paper and my pen came toward the end, when he expressed his four- point formula for turning the world around, for changing the atmosphere of greed and self-interest that has become the hallmark of our current capitalistic society.

            I told him afterwards that I was grateful to him for setting the stage for what I want to say today.  The topic “Chaos and Grace” had come to me before Seth opened his mouth, but after listening to him, I felt challenged to continue his message in my own way.

            There was a second piece of my rocked-out-ness --- the Christmas gift my son and his wife sent me this holiday season.  Mike and Jayde know I always have a book open in front of me when I’m at my dining room table, I always lie down with a book after lunch, and often fall asleep with a book by my side at night.  Reading is my favorite leisure pastime and has been since I was a little kid, poring over the stacks of parent-approved library books always lying around our house. 

            Mike and Jayde had selected three current best-sellers with authors and topics they figured my elderly but passionate liberal progressivism would eat right up.  Truth to tell, each of their choices scared me a little bit!  Not because these are not interesting topics and authors but because, since retirement, I’ve mostly read murder mysteries and funny novels, having read an awful lot of heavy-duty serious non-fiction during my years as a teacher, a counselor, and a minister.  And I wasn’t sure I was ready to go back to that kind of reading, because it can have the effect of ripping my heart out.

            The three books were Ta-Nahisi Coates’ “Between the World and Me”, Gloria Steinem’s “My Life on the Road” and  “The Notorious RBG: the life and times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg” by Irin  Carmon and Shana Knizhnik.

            The scariest one of all was TaNahisi Coates’ letter to his 15 year old son, Samori.  Mr. Coates is a journalist with Atlantic Magazine and this was his memory of his growing up black in Baltimore.  He was giving his son advice gleaned from the mean streets.

            Just knowing that the book was about a black man growing up in Baltimore, site of some of the most recent and most hotly-divisive police behavior toward black people, made my heart pound a little harder.  I knew it would be tough reading.

            I’d been in Denver, student-teaching in a mostly-black junior high when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.  Denver just about shut down during that time.  Riot behavior was pretty well contained and to the best of my knowledge, no one died. 

But it was a scary time for white people and black people, who didn’t know whether our black friends were okay or if the tide had turned so decisively that our friendships were  now suspect and fearful.

            I have only been able to see race relations and racism from a white person’s point of view during most of my life.  I’m still ignorant, but I have begun to recognize my privilege as an older white woman and I wondered whether I had the courage to open myself up to Coates’ description of life as a black man in America. 

            What hit me hardest, right off the bat, was this passage from his book:  Page 9, an excerpt.

            “Son…I write you in your fifteenth year.  I am writing you because that was the year you saw Eric Garner choked to death for selling cigarettes; because you know now that Renisha McBride was shot for seeking help, that John Crawford was shot for browsing in a department store.  And you have seen men in uniform drive by and murder Tamir Rice, a twelve-year-old child whom they were oath-bound to protect.  And you have seen men in the same uniforms pummel Marlene Pinnock, someone’s grandmother, on the side of the road.  And you know now, if you did not before, that the police departments of your country have been endowed with the authority to destroy your body.  It does not matter (why…).  The destroyers will rarely be held accountable.  Mostly they will receive pensions…All this is common to black people.  And all of this is old for black people.  No one is held responsible.” 

            I thought of the black children and teenagers and parents I knew when I was a Baptist Home Missionary at the Denver Christian Center in 1965 and 66 and 67.  And I wondered if the same chaos that pervades Baltimore and other urban areas now was already present then.  Were these children whom I loved as afraid in Denver in the 60’s as black people are now in Baltimore and Chicago in 2016?  Has nothing changed?  Can it have only gotten worse?  And why did I not know?

            Seth spoke to us last week about “Ecology and Spirituality”, the relationship between nature and humanity, and in his closing words, he laid out four characteristics, four behaviors that he deems necessary to reverse our current ecological nightmare and turn the world around:  imagination (the ability to see what is happening to the planet and to see a better way); reverence (the recognition that the earth is alive and sacred); compassion (an understanding of the pain suffered by the planet and its organisms); and perseverance (a willingness to stay the course, not to give up).

            Chaos is a condition that appears everywhere in our world---the chaos brought by random violence, of war, of unexpected natural disaster, of weather, of loss, of the threat of annihilation that can come from any direction.  Lives are thrown into pandemonium by unexpected changes around us and even far away, as we think about the unpredictable consequences of those changes. 

The byproduct of chaos, of the disorder and confusion that comes in the wake of drastic change and also may precede it, is fear. And, as Franklin D. Roosevelt famously stated in his first inaugural address in 1932 during the Great Depression, “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

         As we consider this topic, I’d like to ask you a question:  What do you see causing or promoting fear in today’s world?  What are the local or personal issues that worry you?  That keep you awake at night or disturb your waking hours?  (cong. resp)

            This is the chaos that infuses our human life with fear; we’ve talked about the changes that bring chaos into our lives and the fear that comes with it.  But as we may also have realized,  in the midst of chaos, we may also find grace.

            We often think of “grace” as a religious word that belongs to Christianity and means the saving power of Jesus’ death on the cross 2000 years ago.  But that’s not the only meaning of grace.  Grace actually comes to all of us, without our doing anything to deserve it.  We may not recognize it as such, but it is there.

            There are many definitions for the word, but the shortest, most concise yet powerful definition came to me from the words of my mentor the Rev. Robert Latham, way back when I was at Jefferson Unitarian Church in Colorado.

            Robert was deconstructing, pulling apart and redefining several religious words that often give us liberal religious people trouble because we think of them in terms of Christian concepts that we no longer find valuable, words like worship, God, prayer, that sort of thing.  And his definition for grace was short and sweet.

            Grace, he said, is simply undeserved good fortune.  It’s the silver lining, the cup of water during the race, the $5 bill found on the street, the cop who gives you a warning, not a ticket, the ray of sunshine through the clouds, the paramedic who shows up at your door when you call 911, and we not only are the recipients of this life-enhancing grace, we can offer it as well.

            I recently ran across a philosophy lesson offered by Charles Schulz, the creator of the Peanuts comic strip.  I’m going to throw a few questions at you and give you a chance to think about them, in closing.

1.     Who are the 5 wealthiest people in the world?

2.     How about the last five Heisman trophy winners?

3.     The last five winners of the Miss America pageant?

4.     Ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize?

5.     The last six Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.

How did you do?  The point is, few of us remember the headliners of

the past.  These are no second-rate achievers.  They are the cream of the crop.  But the applause dies, awards tarnish, achievements are forgotten.  The honors are buried with their owners. 

            But here’s another quiz.  See how you do on this one:

1.     List a few teachers who aided your journey through school

2.     Name three friends who have helped you through a tough time.

3.     Name five people who have taught you something valuable.

4.     Think of a few folks who have made you feel appreciated.

5.     Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

The lesson seems clear.  When the chaos comes and disrupts our lives, the people who stepped in to help are the ones we remember.  They are the source of the good fortune that comes to us because human beings have an innate ability to care about others .

We receive grace when we least expect it or feel we deserve it.  It is not something we can earn, but it is something we can give away.  It is the antidote to chaos.

      In “Between the World and Me” Ta-Nahisi Coates tells his son where he found the grace that helped him move beyond the fear engendered by the chaos of black life in America.  He talks about his parents, the Mecca he found at Howard University, the friends whose strength and courage uplifted him, and the vision he has for black life in a racist America, not a bleak vision but a vision of learning for all Americans, black and white.  His book may have ripped my heart open, but it gave me hope and courage too.

      The other day, I went with a few friends to see the new Star Wars movie.  How many of you have seen it?  No worries, no spoilers here, I hope. 

      The theme of the movie is stated pretty clearly in its subtitle:   The Force Awakens.  And I see that as an analogy for what many of us progressives, whether religious or secular, are trying to achieve as we protest the human rights  violations we see, the environmental degradation of our planet, the greedy commercialism of our society, and the lawlessness of those who would maintain the inequalities of justice and economic status so much a part of our infrastructure.

      The force not only awakens in a science fiction movie; I believe it is awakening here on our planet.  Human beings are beginning to understand that we are interdependent, that humanity can only survive if we unite with others in support of a healthy, thriving ecosystem---of which we are only one part.

      Seth’s “four values” are a framework for achieving the change we seek.  Imagination---the ability to see what is happening to our planet and its inhabitants, and to see a better way.  Reverence---the understanding that the earth is alive and that it is sacred, our only home and our only hope.  Compassion---empathizing with the pain of a suffering earth and its inhabitants and reaching out to alleviate that pain.  And perseverance----the willingness to stick with the work that must be done, not giving up because of our fear or because we think our feeble efforts are useless.

      Can we do this?  I think we can.  Let’s pause for a time of silent reflection and prayer.

CLOSING HYMN #131, Love Will Guide Us

BENEDICTION:  Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together, is ended but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place.  Let us go in peace, remembering that we are the only hope for humanity and our home the earth.  May we strive in our daily lives to recognize and appreciate the grace that comes for us and each other when we reach out to relieve suffering and injustice as we encounter it.  Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

CLOSING CIRCLE