From Who am I? to Whose are We?
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
September 25, 2016
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
Tucked away in the drawer of my husband’s nightstand is a small newspaper clipping. He keeps the brittle yellowed piece of paper in a little ziplock bag. It is the personal ad I placed over 20 years ago. The ad he answered. And the rest, as they say, “is history.”
Indeed, given that the ad was on paper and printed in a newspaper it feels a bit like ancient history. No pictures, no endless space in which to reveal every detail about oneself. Just room enough, a few lines to describe oneself, to answer, “Who am I?”
On one level, the question, “Who am I?” concerns the identity we claim for ourselves. It’s a question we ask and are asked often.
Take a moment. Close your eyes, if you wish, and in silence ask yourself, “Who am I?”
Everyone seems to have their own way of answering this question. Some of us can be quite literal in our approach, offering some basic statistics: height, weight, gender and sexual orientation, hair and eye color, etc. Most will offer other descriptors too. A person might, for example, describe themselves as adventurous or a homebody. Often the identity we claim is based on certain qualities we believe we exhibit particularly well…caring, sensitive, generous, a good sense of humor. Or we might choose to say who we are by naming our credentials, education, degrees/certifications, or our occupation or job title, and sometimes we’ll name our hobbies and interests too. But do these identities alone…identities we claim, no matter how expansive or detailed they may be, tell the whole story of who we are?
The Quaker teacher Douglas Steere says no. Indeed Steere goes so far as to claim, “There is no identity outside of relationships. You can’t be a person by yourself,” says Steere. My colleague Sarah Lammert, illustrates Steere’s point in a story from her youth studying in Kenya. It seems she and the other students were invited to a dinner hosted by some local warriors. During the dinner, Lammert recalls, “One of the young men asked me who my people were. I stumbled with my answer, explaining that I came from the area of the Mississippi River.”
She continues, “He seemed puzzled that I could not clearly identify myself with a tribe. ‘I know who I am’, he said gravely. By this he meant, ‘I know who I am in the community. I know who I am as part of the natural world. I know myself to be a member of one tribal body. I belong; therefore I am.”
“I belong; therefore I am.” That’s a powerful statement. It is also a humbling statement. Reminding us, as it does, “we are not ours alone.”
When Kevin, my spouse, answered my personal ad, he talked extensively - not a surprise if you’ve met him- about the identities he claims for himself, but he also talked about the relationships that claim him, particularly his friends and family. He answered not merely, Who am I? but Whose am I?
Part of knowing who we are is recognizing whose we are. “Whose am I?” recognizes and names…honors the relationships that lay claim to our lives- spouse, parent, child, sibling, friend- and so much more.
As another colleague, Victoria Safford notes, “To ask ‘Whose am I?’ is to extend far beyond the little self-absorbed self, and wonder: “Who needs you? Who loves you? To whom are you accountable? To who do you answer? Whose life is altered by your choices?
With whose life, whose lives, is your own all bound up, inextricably, in obvious or invisible ways?”
Whose am I? reminds us that we are interdependent.
Let’s pause again for moment, close your eyes if you want, and in the silence, ask yourself, “Whose am I?”
Who/what needs you?
Who loves you?
To whom or what are you accountable?
To who do you answer?
Whose life is altered by your choices?
Notice how, or if, your identity or image of yourself has shifted or changed.
On another level, “Who am I?” is less an identity we claim and more a claim we’re drawn to identify or allow to emerge within us. As Jeff Golliher reminds us, “We have a journey to make.” The journey involves finding and living your call or purpose. “Who Am I?”, then becomes, “Who am I called to be?”
Everyone has a call or purpose, something that is beyond a job title or personal circumstances, both of which can be the ways we discover, express or live our purpose or call, but they are not the call or purpose itself. A person’s call or purpose may be to inspire creativity in others. And that person might work as an artist and live out their call through their occupation, or they may work at a warehouse and live out their call after work coaching a basketball team for underprivileged youth or something.
[Two stories of call or purpose heard on the radio this morning where ad-libbed here. One concerned a woman who started an anti-racism program after receiving unsolicited KKK materials in the mail; the other concerned a man and his father with alzheimer’s singing and the father, receiving a record deal after a career working in a factory].
Again, let’s pause and consider “Who am I”? in the context of call or purpose. Close your eyes if you wish and in the silence ask yourself…
“Who am I called to be”?
What is my call in life as I understand at this point in time?
To what purpose do I feel most drawn?
What possesses me, even though I may resist or become
discouraged?
As we explore or pursue our call of purpose the question, “Whose am I?” is going to come up. Someone’s going to ask us if we don’t do it first. In the context of call or purpose, “Whose am I?” is a question of “Who or what calls me?” It is still a question of relationship but one harder to name. For some naming God as the who may be sufficient, but for many others the who or what is more than the word God has been allowed to mean in the Western World.
In the absence of satisfactory language, sometimes the best we can do is point towards that which cannot be named. Something we can do by reflecting on things like where we feel our call/purpose came from. Where were we or what where we doing when we first sensed or heard it? It is something we or experienced as coming from outside ourself or from within? Naming it is less important than recognizing its presence and realizing its enduring impact or claim on you life amid all the ups and downs you experience. A story told by Jon Luopo reveals why….
A Roman Catholic priest was invited to share his life odyssey with an interfaith clergy organization. He described his life as having been largely a failure. He remembered the days of Vatican II and the hope he and his generation of liberal priests had had that real change was coming to the church he loved so dearly. Yet, many years later he felt the church had if anything become hardened and more conservative. His dreams had not been realized. This priest was a respected and valued among his colleagues who were hurt and surprised by what he said. Yet, one colleague noted, despite the severity of his words, his demeanor seemed peaceful and content. “How can you claim your life was a failure, and yet appear so calm and serene? “I know whose I am,” replied the priest. “I know whose I am.”
Now, even if you only have a vague sense of your call or purpose, ask yourself, Who or what calls me?
Who or what tells me who I am?
Who or what sustains me when I am discouraged or when my
church disappoints?
To whom or what am I a part of… that claims me, that holds me?
If you struggled with any of the questions this morning, take heart. The spiritual journey, Jeff Golliher reminds us, “may not follow a very straightforward path, with clear-cut steps to take and easily identifiable problems to solve.” I would go so far as to guarantee you the journey will not be straightforward or always clear. It is a journey of ongoing discover and discernment. A process of unveiling, as Mark Morrison-Reed tells us, that makes religious community essential. That’s why the way of the spiritual loner is generally discouraged by most of the major religious traditions.
As Douglas Steere reminds us, “You can’t be a person by yourself.” “There is no identity outside of relationships.” We could argue whether that’s literally true or not but in doing so we’d miss the greater spiritual truth of his words, that who we are is determined in large degree by our understanding of whose we are… by who and what we are in relationship with. And as Unitarian Universalists, by how we are in those relationships.
“The central task of the religious community”, says Mark Morrison-Reed, “is to unveil the bonds that bind each to all.” Here we are reminded that we are relational beings and ours is a relational faith.
It is why we gather and covenant together. To seek and discover our connections to one another and the wider world. To build and strengthen, affirm and celebrate, nurture and tend, those relationships. To, struggle and grow, extend and accept forgiveness and facilitate healing. To journey together toward wholeness. Fulfilling the promise of this community and this faith. Venturing from Who am I to Whose are we? May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
September 25, 2016
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
Tucked away in the drawer of my husband’s nightstand is a small newspaper clipping. He keeps the brittle yellowed piece of paper in a little ziplock bag. It is the personal ad I placed over 20 years ago. The ad he answered. And the rest, as they say, “is history.”
Indeed, given that the ad was on paper and printed in a newspaper it feels a bit like ancient history. No pictures, no endless space in which to reveal every detail about oneself. Just room enough, a few lines to describe oneself, to answer, “Who am I?”
On one level, the question, “Who am I?” concerns the identity we claim for ourselves. It’s a question we ask and are asked often.
Take a moment. Close your eyes, if you wish, and in silence ask yourself, “Who am I?”
Everyone seems to have their own way of answering this question. Some of us can be quite literal in our approach, offering some basic statistics: height, weight, gender and sexual orientation, hair and eye color, etc. Most will offer other descriptors too. A person might, for example, describe themselves as adventurous or a homebody. Often the identity we claim is based on certain qualities we believe we exhibit particularly well…caring, sensitive, generous, a good sense of humor. Or we might choose to say who we are by naming our credentials, education, degrees/certifications, or our occupation or job title, and sometimes we’ll name our hobbies and interests too. But do these identities alone…identities we claim, no matter how expansive or detailed they may be, tell the whole story of who we are?
The Quaker teacher Douglas Steere says no. Indeed Steere goes so far as to claim, “There is no identity outside of relationships. You can’t be a person by yourself,” says Steere. My colleague Sarah Lammert, illustrates Steere’s point in a story from her youth studying in Kenya. It seems she and the other students were invited to a dinner hosted by some local warriors. During the dinner, Lammert recalls, “One of the young men asked me who my people were. I stumbled with my answer, explaining that I came from the area of the Mississippi River.”
She continues, “He seemed puzzled that I could not clearly identify myself with a tribe. ‘I know who I am’, he said gravely. By this he meant, ‘I know who I am in the community. I know who I am as part of the natural world. I know myself to be a member of one tribal body. I belong; therefore I am.”
“I belong; therefore I am.” That’s a powerful statement. It is also a humbling statement. Reminding us, as it does, “we are not ours alone.”
When Kevin, my spouse, answered my personal ad, he talked extensively - not a surprise if you’ve met him- about the identities he claims for himself, but he also talked about the relationships that claim him, particularly his friends and family. He answered not merely, Who am I? but Whose am I?
Part of knowing who we are is recognizing whose we are. “Whose am I?” recognizes and names…honors the relationships that lay claim to our lives- spouse, parent, child, sibling, friend- and so much more.
As another colleague, Victoria Safford notes, “To ask ‘Whose am I?’ is to extend far beyond the little self-absorbed self, and wonder: “Who needs you? Who loves you? To whom are you accountable? To who do you answer? Whose life is altered by your choices?
With whose life, whose lives, is your own all bound up, inextricably, in obvious or invisible ways?”
Whose am I? reminds us that we are interdependent.
Let’s pause again for moment, close your eyes if you want, and in the silence, ask yourself, “Whose am I?”
Who/what needs you?
Who loves you?
To whom or what are you accountable?
To who do you answer?
Whose life is altered by your choices?
Notice how, or if, your identity or image of yourself has shifted or changed.
On another level, “Who am I?” is less an identity we claim and more a claim we’re drawn to identify or allow to emerge within us. As Jeff Golliher reminds us, “We have a journey to make.” The journey involves finding and living your call or purpose. “Who Am I?”, then becomes, “Who am I called to be?”
Everyone has a call or purpose, something that is beyond a job title or personal circumstances, both of which can be the ways we discover, express or live our purpose or call, but they are not the call or purpose itself. A person’s call or purpose may be to inspire creativity in others. And that person might work as an artist and live out their call through their occupation, or they may work at a warehouse and live out their call after work coaching a basketball team for underprivileged youth or something.
[Two stories of call or purpose heard on the radio this morning where ad-libbed here. One concerned a woman who started an anti-racism program after receiving unsolicited KKK materials in the mail; the other concerned a man and his father with alzheimer’s singing and the father, receiving a record deal after a career working in a factory].
Again, let’s pause and consider “Who am I”? in the context of call or purpose. Close your eyes if you wish and in the silence ask yourself…
“Who am I called to be”?
What is my call in life as I understand at this point in time?
To what purpose do I feel most drawn?
What possesses me, even though I may resist or become
discouraged?
As we explore or pursue our call of purpose the question, “Whose am I?” is going to come up. Someone’s going to ask us if we don’t do it first. In the context of call or purpose, “Whose am I?” is a question of “Who or what calls me?” It is still a question of relationship but one harder to name. For some naming God as the who may be sufficient, but for many others the who or what is more than the word God has been allowed to mean in the Western World.
In the absence of satisfactory language, sometimes the best we can do is point towards that which cannot be named. Something we can do by reflecting on things like where we feel our call/purpose came from. Where were we or what where we doing when we first sensed or heard it? It is something we or experienced as coming from outside ourself or from within? Naming it is less important than recognizing its presence and realizing its enduring impact or claim on you life amid all the ups and downs you experience. A story told by Jon Luopo reveals why….
A Roman Catholic priest was invited to share his life odyssey with an interfaith clergy organization. He described his life as having been largely a failure. He remembered the days of Vatican II and the hope he and his generation of liberal priests had had that real change was coming to the church he loved so dearly. Yet, many years later he felt the church had if anything become hardened and more conservative. His dreams had not been realized. This priest was a respected and valued among his colleagues who were hurt and surprised by what he said. Yet, one colleague noted, despite the severity of his words, his demeanor seemed peaceful and content. “How can you claim your life was a failure, and yet appear so calm and serene? “I know whose I am,” replied the priest. “I know whose I am.”
Now, even if you only have a vague sense of your call or purpose, ask yourself, Who or what calls me?
Who or what tells me who I am?
Who or what sustains me when I am discouraged or when my
church disappoints?
To whom or what am I a part of… that claims me, that holds me?
If you struggled with any of the questions this morning, take heart. The spiritual journey, Jeff Golliher reminds us, “may not follow a very straightforward path, with clear-cut steps to take and easily identifiable problems to solve.” I would go so far as to guarantee you the journey will not be straightforward or always clear. It is a journey of ongoing discover and discernment. A process of unveiling, as Mark Morrison-Reed tells us, that makes religious community essential. That’s why the way of the spiritual loner is generally discouraged by most of the major religious traditions.
As Douglas Steere reminds us, “You can’t be a person by yourself.” “There is no identity outside of relationships.” We could argue whether that’s literally true or not but in doing so we’d miss the greater spiritual truth of his words, that who we are is determined in large degree by our understanding of whose we are… by who and what we are in relationship with. And as Unitarian Universalists, by how we are in those relationships.
“The central task of the religious community”, says Mark Morrison-Reed, “is to unveil the bonds that bind each to all.” Here we are reminded that we are relational beings and ours is a relational faith.
It is why we gather and covenant together. To seek and discover our connections to one another and the wider world. To build and strengthen, affirm and celebrate, nurture and tend, those relationships. To, struggle and grow, extend and accept forgiveness and facilitate healing. To journey together toward wholeness. Fulfilling the promise of this community and this faith. Venturing from Who am I to Whose are we? May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be
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