Going on a Journey
A Sermon for September 15, 2019 by John Kennison
In his Easter Sermon, last April, Rev Craig talked about a journey, saying:
“Easter, . . . the promise of new life, . . . is not something to believe in, but something to live into. It is not an arrival, but a journey we’re called to take; a new beginning.”
I felt the need to learn more about that journey. What is it like? Is it related to the UU quest for truth? Maybe. Rev Craig is talking about a spiritual journey –but what is a spiritual journey? The readings from Marcus Borg and Pema Chödrön gave us some hints, but I found the clearest example of such a journey in a discussion of Hinduism. So, I will start by summarizing the chapter on Hinduism from Huston Smith’s book, The World’s Religions.
Hinduism . . . compressed into a single sentence says, “You can have what you want.” But what do we want? Hinduism says that people want four basic things. The first thing we want is pleasure. There is nothing wrong with pleasure and we can follow the promptings of pleasure and entrust our lives to it. Like everything else the pursuit of pleasure requires common sense. Sometimes immediate goals must be sacrificed for long-range gains. And impulses that would injure others must be curbed to avoid antagonisms and remorse. In short, we must live a moral life.
Far from condemning pleasure, there are Hindu texts for enlarging pleasure whose explicitness would shock most westerners. So, if pleasure is what you want, go for it.
But most souls will eventually get tired and bored by mere pleasure and seek a deeper kind of satisfaction. Eventually, the soul may consider the second major goal of life which is worldly success with its three major prongs of wealth, fame and power. This too is a worthy goal, not to be scorned or condemned. Moreover, the satisfactions of success include dignity and self-respect and command an importance that pleasure cannot boast. But these satisfactions also have limitations. Worldly success is precarious and usually involves competition. And the drive for success is insatiable if success is your chief goal.
For deeper satisfactions, we have to go beyond the self-worship that is implicit in the paths of pleasure and worldly success. We have to begin the quest for meaning and value beyond self-centeredness. We have to renounce the ego’s claim of being the ultimate key to happiness and look to things bigger than ourselves. The path of duty finds its goals in supporting not just our own lives but the lives of others, in service to the community –-we need to transform the will-to-get into the will-to-give and transform the will-to-win into the will-to-serve. Faithful performance of duty brings respect and gratitude from one’s peers and a strong sense of self-respect from doing one’s part well. But even these rewards can prove insufficient. The path of duty may command our enthusiasm for several lifetimes, but eventually we reach the point where the best the world can offer may make us ask, “Is that all?”.
The Hindu answer to this question is unequivocal: “Life does hold other possibilities.” There is a fourth path called “the Path of Liberation”. Pleasure, success and duty are never humanity’s ultimate goals. What we really want are things that lie at a deeper level. Our basic desires are for being, knowledge and joy –the joy that can come from simply being alive, the joy that can come from knowledge and from understanding the mysteries of life. And to obtain these joys, we need to transform ourselves. There is a joy in simply being alive, but the ability to fully experience that joy is something that develops gradually. There is a joy in knowledge, but you can’t get that joy simply by reading encyclopedias. You need an intuitive knowledge that will deeply change you.
The Hindus say that underlying the human self . . . is a reservoir of pure being that never dies, is never exhausted, and is unrestricted in consciousness and bliss. Many other traditions say similar things . . . But this leads to a critical question. If it is true that all humans have this great storehouse of unrestricted bliss why is it not apparent? Why do we not always feel unlimited? The answer, say the Hindus [is] the depth at which the eternal is buried under the almost impenetrable mass of distractions, false assumptions and self-regarding instincts that comprise our surface selves. Consider the metaphor of the lamp: A lamp can be covered with dust and dirt to the point of obscuring its light completely. The problem that life poses for humans is to clear this debris away so that our infinite center can shine forth in full display.
I think this vision of a great source of spiritual power can vitalize the UU quest for truth –a quest not just for beliefs but a quest to find the joy of simply being alive. A quest that needs to engage not only our brains but also our sense of what life is all about. A quest that can modify the stories that we tell ourselves, and deepen our response to music and art and nature and our connection to others; a quest for a powerful spirituality that will leave us open to the best that life has to offer.
Is there a deep joy is simply being alive? Pema Chödrön tells us about a friend who was dying of Aids. He said, “I didn’t want this and I was terrified of it. But it turns out this illness has been my greatest gift. Now every moment is precious to me. All the people in my life are precious to me. My whole life means so much to me.” What is Pema Chödrön saying here? If we feel that every moment of life is precious, how can we say that a terminal illness is a great gift? Pema’s friend was terrified by his disease. But he realized something. What did he discover? Huston Smith writes:
What the realization of our total being is like can no more be described than can a sunset be described to one born blind; it must be experienced. The biographies of those who have made the discovery provide us with clues, however. These people are wiser; they have more strength and joy. They seem freer, not in the sense that they go around breaking the laws of nature (though the power to do exceptional thing is often ascribed to them) but in the sense that they seem not to find the natural order confining. They seem serene, even radiant. Natural peacemakers, their love flows outward, alike to all. Contact with them strengthens and purifies.
Well if this is true, how do we acquire these resources? I am hardly an expert on this. While I have spent a lot of time thinking about my quest for the truth, until recently, I was searching for a personal theology. I missed the point that our journey is not about beliefs but about transformation. I do believe in the value of connecting to others but when I miss an opportunity to be genuinely helpful or to show compassion, I tend to excuse myself saying, “Too bad I was thinking of something else and missed that chance.”
But action is more important than good beliefs --it takes a personal transformation to be more aware of what is really important--more aware of the strength we can get from our connections to others.
But how do we do this? We do it in different ways. Marcus Borg introduced me to a revitalized Christianity that even a skeptic like myself can benefit from. I like Borg’s description of how he reacted to his deep feelings of doubt about the Christianity he was taught as a child. He even prayed to God to ask forgiveness for the atheism he developed when he was in seminary. Such a prayer seems a bit illogical. But maybe those prayers helped Borg develop more dynamic beliefs. I think his approach is well illustrated by his insight, that: “…the heart is like an egg with a shell around it. If what is inside is to live, the egg must hatch, the shell must break, the heart must open.”
Books by Pema Chödrön show that you do not need to believe in God to get spiritual strength. She talks about what to do when things fall apart, and tells us that it does not help to turn it into a tragic opera. Even a triumphant opera can make it harder to see things in perspective. She asks, “When we feel pleasure or pain, is it as simple as that? Or is there [an operatic] libretto that goes along with it?”. When Things Fall Apart p.50
She writes that [our egos can cover up] “our experience of just being here, just being fully where we are, so we can relate with the immediacy of our experience. [Beyond our egos] is a state of mind that has complete confidence in the sacredness of the world. It is unconditional well-being, unconditional joy that includes all the different qualities of our experience. . . . When [it] arises we can recognize [it] –a fresh moment, a clear perception . . . a feeling of opening to emotions and thoughts rather than closing off into our narrow, limited selves.” [“When Things Fall Apart”, p.62,63]
Is there really a place where we can experience the joy of simply being alive? One theory says it’s the place where we meet God and discover our most basic desires. So, we journey to find God. Another theory is that psychological mechanisms evolved that allowed pre-historic humans to live their lives with great enthusiasm. But these mechanisms do not work very well in modern societies. We can recapture our ancient zest for living, but it takes a transformative journey to see our real needs.
Regardless of how we envision our journeys, we can still journey together. And in this
church we can, and we do, encourage and help one another to find that place, beyond our egos, beyond our worries and fears, beyond our response to pleasure and pain, --a place taught by virtually all the world’s religions – a place where we can grow spiritually and be truly happy. SO MAY IT BE
Readings
My first reading is by Marcus Borg from his book Meeting Jesus Again for the First time.
“The understanding of the Christian life as a journey of transformation is grounded in [an] alternative image of Jesus . . . .. This image flows out of contemporary biblical and historical scholarship. Though it may seem fresh and initially unfamiliar, it is very old, going back to the first century of the early Christian movement. . .. .. it is an image of the Christian life not primarily about believing or being good but as a relationship with God.”
The second reading is adapted from the book When Things Fall by the Buddhist writer, Pema Chödrön
“. . . generosity [is] the journey of learning how to give. When we feel inadequate and unworthy, we hoard things. . . . we are so afraid—afraid of losing, afraid of feeling even more poverty-stricken than we do already.
. . . the basic idea of generosity is to train in thinking bigger, to do ourselves the world’s biggest favor and stop cultivating our own scheme[s]. The more we experience fundamental richness, the more we can loosen our grip.
The fundamental richness is available each moment. The key is to relax: relax to a cloud in the sky, relax to a tiny bird with gray wings. . . we find this fundamental richness everywhere. It is not ours or theirs but is available always to everyone. . . . The journey of generosity is one of connecting to this wealth, cherishing it so profoundly we are willing to give away whatever blocks it.
Benediction By Rev. Andrew Pakula
There are miles behind you
And many more ahead.
As you journey on toward wholeness
May all that is good and true guide your way
May the joy of love lighten every step
And the miracle that is life be ever in your sight.
A Sermon for September 15, 2019 by John Kennison
In his Easter Sermon, last April, Rev Craig talked about a journey, saying:
“Easter, . . . the promise of new life, . . . is not something to believe in, but something to live into. It is not an arrival, but a journey we’re called to take; a new beginning.”
I felt the need to learn more about that journey. What is it like? Is it related to the UU quest for truth? Maybe. Rev Craig is talking about a spiritual journey –but what is a spiritual journey? The readings from Marcus Borg and Pema Chödrön gave us some hints, but I found the clearest example of such a journey in a discussion of Hinduism. So, I will start by summarizing the chapter on Hinduism from Huston Smith’s book, The World’s Religions.
Hinduism . . . compressed into a single sentence says, “You can have what you want.” But what do we want? Hinduism says that people want four basic things. The first thing we want is pleasure. There is nothing wrong with pleasure and we can follow the promptings of pleasure and entrust our lives to it. Like everything else the pursuit of pleasure requires common sense. Sometimes immediate goals must be sacrificed for long-range gains. And impulses that would injure others must be curbed to avoid antagonisms and remorse. In short, we must live a moral life.
Far from condemning pleasure, there are Hindu texts for enlarging pleasure whose explicitness would shock most westerners. So, if pleasure is what you want, go for it.
But most souls will eventually get tired and bored by mere pleasure and seek a deeper kind of satisfaction. Eventually, the soul may consider the second major goal of life which is worldly success with its three major prongs of wealth, fame and power. This too is a worthy goal, not to be scorned or condemned. Moreover, the satisfactions of success include dignity and self-respect and command an importance that pleasure cannot boast. But these satisfactions also have limitations. Worldly success is precarious and usually involves competition. And the drive for success is insatiable if success is your chief goal.
For deeper satisfactions, we have to go beyond the self-worship that is implicit in the paths of pleasure and worldly success. We have to begin the quest for meaning and value beyond self-centeredness. We have to renounce the ego’s claim of being the ultimate key to happiness and look to things bigger than ourselves. The path of duty finds its goals in supporting not just our own lives but the lives of others, in service to the community –-we need to transform the will-to-get into the will-to-give and transform the will-to-win into the will-to-serve. Faithful performance of duty brings respect and gratitude from one’s peers and a strong sense of self-respect from doing one’s part well. But even these rewards can prove insufficient. The path of duty may command our enthusiasm for several lifetimes, but eventually we reach the point where the best the world can offer may make us ask, “Is that all?”.
The Hindu answer to this question is unequivocal: “Life does hold other possibilities.” There is a fourth path called “the Path of Liberation”. Pleasure, success and duty are never humanity’s ultimate goals. What we really want are things that lie at a deeper level. Our basic desires are for being, knowledge and joy –the joy that can come from simply being alive, the joy that can come from knowledge and from understanding the mysteries of life. And to obtain these joys, we need to transform ourselves. There is a joy in simply being alive, but the ability to fully experience that joy is something that develops gradually. There is a joy in knowledge, but you can’t get that joy simply by reading encyclopedias. You need an intuitive knowledge that will deeply change you.
The Hindus say that underlying the human self . . . is a reservoir of pure being that never dies, is never exhausted, and is unrestricted in consciousness and bliss. Many other traditions say similar things . . . But this leads to a critical question. If it is true that all humans have this great storehouse of unrestricted bliss why is it not apparent? Why do we not always feel unlimited? The answer, say the Hindus [is] the depth at which the eternal is buried under the almost impenetrable mass of distractions, false assumptions and self-regarding instincts that comprise our surface selves. Consider the metaphor of the lamp: A lamp can be covered with dust and dirt to the point of obscuring its light completely. The problem that life poses for humans is to clear this debris away so that our infinite center can shine forth in full display.
I think this vision of a great source of spiritual power can vitalize the UU quest for truth –a quest not just for beliefs but a quest to find the joy of simply being alive. A quest that needs to engage not only our brains but also our sense of what life is all about. A quest that can modify the stories that we tell ourselves, and deepen our response to music and art and nature and our connection to others; a quest for a powerful spirituality that will leave us open to the best that life has to offer.
Is there a deep joy is simply being alive? Pema Chödrön tells us about a friend who was dying of Aids. He said, “I didn’t want this and I was terrified of it. But it turns out this illness has been my greatest gift. Now every moment is precious to me. All the people in my life are precious to me. My whole life means so much to me.” What is Pema Chödrön saying here? If we feel that every moment of life is precious, how can we say that a terminal illness is a great gift? Pema’s friend was terrified by his disease. But he realized something. What did he discover? Huston Smith writes:
What the realization of our total being is like can no more be described than can a sunset be described to one born blind; it must be experienced. The biographies of those who have made the discovery provide us with clues, however. These people are wiser; they have more strength and joy. They seem freer, not in the sense that they go around breaking the laws of nature (though the power to do exceptional thing is often ascribed to them) but in the sense that they seem not to find the natural order confining. They seem serene, even radiant. Natural peacemakers, their love flows outward, alike to all. Contact with them strengthens and purifies.
Well if this is true, how do we acquire these resources? I am hardly an expert on this. While I have spent a lot of time thinking about my quest for the truth, until recently, I was searching for a personal theology. I missed the point that our journey is not about beliefs but about transformation. I do believe in the value of connecting to others but when I miss an opportunity to be genuinely helpful or to show compassion, I tend to excuse myself saying, “Too bad I was thinking of something else and missed that chance.”
But action is more important than good beliefs --it takes a personal transformation to be more aware of what is really important--more aware of the strength we can get from our connections to others.
But how do we do this? We do it in different ways. Marcus Borg introduced me to a revitalized Christianity that even a skeptic like myself can benefit from. I like Borg’s description of how he reacted to his deep feelings of doubt about the Christianity he was taught as a child. He even prayed to God to ask forgiveness for the atheism he developed when he was in seminary. Such a prayer seems a bit illogical. But maybe those prayers helped Borg develop more dynamic beliefs. I think his approach is well illustrated by his insight, that: “…the heart is like an egg with a shell around it. If what is inside is to live, the egg must hatch, the shell must break, the heart must open.”
Books by Pema Chödrön show that you do not need to believe in God to get spiritual strength. She talks about what to do when things fall apart, and tells us that it does not help to turn it into a tragic opera. Even a triumphant opera can make it harder to see things in perspective. She asks, “When we feel pleasure or pain, is it as simple as that? Or is there [an operatic] libretto that goes along with it?”. When Things Fall Apart p.50
She writes that [our egos can cover up] “our experience of just being here, just being fully where we are, so we can relate with the immediacy of our experience. [Beyond our egos] is a state of mind that has complete confidence in the sacredness of the world. It is unconditional well-being, unconditional joy that includes all the different qualities of our experience. . . . When [it] arises we can recognize [it] –a fresh moment, a clear perception . . . a feeling of opening to emotions and thoughts rather than closing off into our narrow, limited selves.” [“When Things Fall Apart”, p.62,63]
Is there really a place where we can experience the joy of simply being alive? One theory says it’s the place where we meet God and discover our most basic desires. So, we journey to find God. Another theory is that psychological mechanisms evolved that allowed pre-historic humans to live their lives with great enthusiasm. But these mechanisms do not work very well in modern societies. We can recapture our ancient zest for living, but it takes a transformative journey to see our real needs.
Regardless of how we envision our journeys, we can still journey together. And in this
church we can, and we do, encourage and help one another to find that place, beyond our egos, beyond our worries and fears, beyond our response to pleasure and pain, --a place taught by virtually all the world’s religions – a place where we can grow spiritually and be truly happy. SO MAY IT BE
Readings
My first reading is by Marcus Borg from his book Meeting Jesus Again for the First time.
“The understanding of the Christian life as a journey of transformation is grounded in [an] alternative image of Jesus . . . .. This image flows out of contemporary biblical and historical scholarship. Though it may seem fresh and initially unfamiliar, it is very old, going back to the first century of the early Christian movement. . .. .. it is an image of the Christian life not primarily about believing or being good but as a relationship with God.”
The second reading is adapted from the book When Things Fall by the Buddhist writer, Pema Chödrön
“. . . generosity [is] the journey of learning how to give. When we feel inadequate and unworthy, we hoard things. . . . we are so afraid—afraid of losing, afraid of feeling even more poverty-stricken than we do already.
. . . the basic idea of generosity is to train in thinking bigger, to do ourselves the world’s biggest favor and stop cultivating our own scheme[s]. The more we experience fundamental richness, the more we can loosen our grip.
The fundamental richness is available each moment. The key is to relax: relax to a cloud in the sky, relax to a tiny bird with gray wings. . . we find this fundamental richness everywhere. It is not ours or theirs but is available always to everyone. . . . The journey of generosity is one of connecting to this wealth, cherishing it so profoundly we are willing to give away whatever blocks it.
Benediction By Rev. Andrew Pakula
There are miles behind you
And many more ahead.
As you journey on toward wholeness
May all that is good and true guide your way
May the joy of love lighten every step
And the miracle that is life be ever in your sight.