BROOKFIELD UNITARIAN UNIVERSALIST CHURCH
Holy Homophones
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
September 8, 2019
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
For what shall it profit a person, if they shall gain a smart phone, and lose their connection to life?
These are the kind of questions ministers, some of us anyway, spend time thinking about.
And not without good reason.
I recently talked with a young man who, in sharing his frustration with the dating scene, lamented the fact that in his experience, no one under 30 will commit to meet in person. “They’re all too afraid to come out from behind their screens”, he said.
I have to admit, when I see someone walking toward me with their face in their phone, I’m sometimes torn between moving aside or letting them run into me just to see how they react to being awakened to the world around them. Another person, a friend of mine, is convinced smart phone usage is making people less patient and more angry. And some of us, perhaps most of us, have heard or read about studies linking smartphone usage and excessive screen time to loneliness, anxiety and depression.
Now, I’m not anti-smart phone. I have one myself. It is a remarkable piece of technology. And there’s no doubt it offers conveniences that, until very recently, only existed in science fiction.
Of course, convenience is not an absolute good.
Prepared foods are convenient, but they’re not always good for us.
Superstores where you can buy a lawnmower, birthday cake, liquor, 60 rolls of toilet paper and get a flu shot under one roof may be convenient, but their social, economic and cultural impact on a community is not always positive.
And for all the ways smart phones offer us convenient means of communication, they also provide a convenient way to avoid connection….to ourselves, others and the world in which we live.
You see, being “plugged in” or “wired” is not really the same as being connected. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
And most of us know this intuitively.
The young man frustrated by people his age, “Afraid to come out from behind their screen.” knows it. My friend who is concerned about what he observes growing impatience and anger in society knows it. And I know it when I’m deciding whether or not to let someone bump into me who walks looking no further ahead than to the LED or LCD screen glowing a few inches from the end of their nose.
So should we toss our phones into the recycling bin after church? We could, but that wouldn’t really help the situation. For we’re not really talking about cell phones per se. It’s not simply cell phones or other technologies or any of the other dozens of things we fill our homes, minds and calendars with that promote and keep us disconnected from ourselves, others and the world in which we live. In fact, it’s mostly us. A point made in this morning’s reading, the story of Cain and Abel.
If you’re trying to remember the story and you don’t see how it could possibly have anything to do with what I’m talking about, I invite you to remember that the deeper revelations, truths and meaning of stories in the Bible never come from a literal interpretation. If there were nothing below the surface of the story of Cain and Abel, it would have long been forgotten.
Now, if you were at the last regular service of the church year back in June you may recall we explored the story of Cain and Abel then to reflect on our responsibility to others. Today, going a little deeper, we find a story which invites us to consider our responsibility to ourselves and the life we’ve been given which ultimately impacts others and the world in which we live.
And so let’s begin with you. How many of you know what your name means?
If you don’t know, you can look it up online or a book of names. The point is names, generally speaking, are not just names. They mean or point to something. Your parents, or whomever named you, may or may not have known the meaning of your name when they chose it for you, but the writer of the story of Cain and Abel knew well what those names meant.
The name Cain in Hebrew (Kayan) means “possessing or acquiring” and also “creating.” This, when coupled with the knowledge that Cain was “a tiller of the ground” indicates Cain represents our connection to the material world, the world of things. In the story Cain also represents our attempt to find purpose, happiness, truth and meaning in and through manipulation of the material world.
The name Abel, on the other hand, comes from a Hebrew word (hevel) which means “vapor or breath” which represents that which is ethereal, hard to grasp, vulnerable, but also life giving and sustaining. Abel represents our connection to the spiritual, or, if you prefer, the mystery of “being.” A “keeper of sheep”, the story tells us, Abel doesn’t till the land… manipulate the material world… in an attempt to find purpose, happiness, truth and meaning. He is concerned with “being”, or as Rabbi Howard Copper describes it, “What is going on moment by moment in us, to us and between us.”
The moment of truth arrives when Cain and Abel make their offerings to God, who may be better understood as Life with a capital L. Life that contains and transcends our individual lives. An offering is both an acknowledgement and expression of gratitude to God, or Life, if you prefer.
Cain offers, “the fruit of the ground.” While Abel offers,“the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions”, the best part.
If this story were to be rewritten for our more literally minded time, Cain might have handed over an iphone as his offering, knowing he was about to turn it in anyway… for an upgrade, of course. Whereas Abel might have offered a promise. A promise to devote time and attention to his spiritual life, to the mystery of being, “to what is going on moment by moment in us, to us and between us.” (Cooper).
Our Jewish friends, express and live this promise in The Shema, a prayer that is the centerpiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer services, which begins, “Sh'ma Yisrael.” “Hear O Israel.” As Rabbi Howard Cooper points out in his book “The Alphabet of Paradise, the english word “hear” does not fully capture the meaning of the Hebrew word shema. Shema, he notes, ‘essentially means ‘pay attention.’ The prayer then is calling Israel, which by the way means, “the one who wrestles/struggles with God”…or Life.…to pay or give attention to Life…to being.
And is this not why we also gather here, in this place… to hear Life?
Indeed, Here H-E-R-E and Hear H-E-A-R, as the sermon title suggests, are holy homophones (each of two or more words having the same pronunciation but different meanings) that describe what Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church, “The little stone church that rocks” is all about.
Here: We unite in an atmosphere of care and support to foster spiritual health and growth.
Here: We focus on sharing our ideas and histories, with warmth, hope, loving friendship and an open mind.
Here: We nurture stability for our daily lives and seek motivation to reach out to the larger community.
And why do we do this? To hear. To give our attention. To wrestle with this life and the mystery of being, and connect with what is going on moment by moment in us, to us, between us.
And yet we experience tension, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, between our material and spiritual inclinations. Tension not unlike a sibling rivalry.
While in the story Cain and Abel are siblings, two separate characters, the author of the story knew Cain and Abel co-exist within each of us as individuals.
And so we have a story which describes the universal human experience of competing interests, needs and inclinations. A story that offers us both a warning and hope.
The warning is not, as some might be quick to claim, that our material inclinations are bad and our spiritual ones are good. So you better make the “right” choice. No. The warning is not that dictatorial. Instead it is something we’re invited to discover by struggling/wrestling with the story.
What, for example, is this story’s take on the human condition? What is it saying to us about our emotions, our vulnerabilities and needs and where or to what or to whom we turn as they arise? What potential advantages or pitfalls does it point out in our own response to the competing demands of life, including whether or not, or how often, to give attention to our spiritual lives? Ponder these and the warning will emerge from your heart, rather than from words on a page.
The hope lies in the way the story ends. Recall that after Cain kills Abel, God asks Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” Cain responds, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” A question that really concerns the interdependence of our material and spiritual inclinations or nature.
Many, thinking the answer obvious, are quick to conclude, “Yes, of course you are.” But that quick conclusion may have more to do with being told how “good” people should answer than with any real experience living the question.
God, on the other hand, doesn’t answer. What’s that about?
Well, God…or Life…as you’ve probably experienced, isn’t all that keen on simple yes or no answers.
Maybe God doesn’t answer because we must discover the answer for ourselves?
And indeed, at the very end of the story, which I did not include as part of today’s reading- as a surprise- God sends Cain into exile, to live as “a restless wanderer on the earth.” And so Cain goes off to live in the land of Nod, east of Eden. The Hebrew root of the word Nod, means shaking like a reed, fleeing danger, staggering or wandering about aimlessly. In essence it means confusion.
I can’t help but think of our own time, now. Humanity, so often, seems to be living in the land of Nod. We’re all occasional visitors to Nod, of course. Our Cain nature, if you will, is strong, willful, and modern culture encourages and caters to it everywhere we turn. Yet, we are increasingly and profoundly unhappy, stressed, angry… dis-spirited. In our confusion we look to creating, acquiring and possessing even more things…everything from phones to extra extra-curricular activities, to social one-upmanship and political victories, as a way out.
The problem is these aren’t equipped to handle the concerns that trouble our consciences.” They’re not necessarily wrong in and of themselves, but they don’t help us hear, that is, pay attention, to “being.”
The hope in the story is we will get sick of wandering in confusion, discover the interdependence of our material and spiritual nature and find our way back, to recalibrate our lives.
And so we gather here, in this house. To get out of Nod, at least for a while. To unplug and reconnect to ourselves, others and the world in which we live. Connection that is made and sustained when we deliberately, regularly bid welcome…give our attention to… Life, to “being”, to what is going on moment by moment in us, to us, between us. May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be
Sermon given at the Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
September 8, 2019
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
For what shall it profit a person, if they shall gain a smart phone, and lose their connection to life?
These are the kind of questions ministers, some of us anyway, spend time thinking about.
And not without good reason.
I recently talked with a young man who, in sharing his frustration with the dating scene, lamented the fact that in his experience, no one under 30 will commit to meet in person. “They’re all too afraid to come out from behind their screens”, he said.
I have to admit, when I see someone walking toward me with their face in their phone, I’m sometimes torn between moving aside or letting them run into me just to see how they react to being awakened to the world around them. Another person, a friend of mine, is convinced smart phone usage is making people less patient and more angry. And some of us, perhaps most of us, have heard or read about studies linking smartphone usage and excessive screen time to loneliness, anxiety and depression.
Now, I’m not anti-smart phone. I have one myself. It is a remarkable piece of technology. And there’s no doubt it offers conveniences that, until very recently, only existed in science fiction.
Of course, convenience is not an absolute good.
Prepared foods are convenient, but they’re not always good for us.
Superstores where you can buy a lawnmower, birthday cake, liquor, 60 rolls of toilet paper and get a flu shot under one roof may be convenient, but their social, economic and cultural impact on a community is not always positive.
And for all the ways smart phones offer us convenient means of communication, they also provide a convenient way to avoid connection….to ourselves, others and the world in which we live.
You see, being “plugged in” or “wired” is not really the same as being connected. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
And most of us know this intuitively.
The young man frustrated by people his age, “Afraid to come out from behind their screen.” knows it. My friend who is concerned about what he observes growing impatience and anger in society knows it. And I know it when I’m deciding whether or not to let someone bump into me who walks looking no further ahead than to the LED or LCD screen glowing a few inches from the end of their nose.
So should we toss our phones into the recycling bin after church? We could, but that wouldn’t really help the situation. For we’re not really talking about cell phones per se. It’s not simply cell phones or other technologies or any of the other dozens of things we fill our homes, minds and calendars with that promote and keep us disconnected from ourselves, others and the world in which we live. In fact, it’s mostly us. A point made in this morning’s reading, the story of Cain and Abel.
If you’re trying to remember the story and you don’t see how it could possibly have anything to do with what I’m talking about, I invite you to remember that the deeper revelations, truths and meaning of stories in the Bible never come from a literal interpretation. If there were nothing below the surface of the story of Cain and Abel, it would have long been forgotten.
Now, if you were at the last regular service of the church year back in June you may recall we explored the story of Cain and Abel then to reflect on our responsibility to others. Today, going a little deeper, we find a story which invites us to consider our responsibility to ourselves and the life we’ve been given which ultimately impacts others and the world in which we live.
And so let’s begin with you. How many of you know what your name means?
If you don’t know, you can look it up online or a book of names. The point is names, generally speaking, are not just names. They mean or point to something. Your parents, or whomever named you, may or may not have known the meaning of your name when they chose it for you, but the writer of the story of Cain and Abel knew well what those names meant.
The name Cain in Hebrew (Kayan) means “possessing or acquiring” and also “creating.” This, when coupled with the knowledge that Cain was “a tiller of the ground” indicates Cain represents our connection to the material world, the world of things. In the story Cain also represents our attempt to find purpose, happiness, truth and meaning in and through manipulation of the material world.
The name Abel, on the other hand, comes from a Hebrew word (hevel) which means “vapor or breath” which represents that which is ethereal, hard to grasp, vulnerable, but also life giving and sustaining. Abel represents our connection to the spiritual, or, if you prefer, the mystery of “being.” A “keeper of sheep”, the story tells us, Abel doesn’t till the land… manipulate the material world… in an attempt to find purpose, happiness, truth and meaning. He is concerned with “being”, or as Rabbi Howard Copper describes it, “What is going on moment by moment in us, to us and between us.”
The moment of truth arrives when Cain and Abel make their offerings to God, who may be better understood as Life with a capital L. Life that contains and transcends our individual lives. An offering is both an acknowledgement and expression of gratitude to God, or Life, if you prefer.
Cain offers, “the fruit of the ground.” While Abel offers,“the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions”, the best part.
If this story were to be rewritten for our more literally minded time, Cain might have handed over an iphone as his offering, knowing he was about to turn it in anyway… for an upgrade, of course. Whereas Abel might have offered a promise. A promise to devote time and attention to his spiritual life, to the mystery of being, “to what is going on moment by moment in us, to us and between us.” (Cooper).
Our Jewish friends, express and live this promise in The Shema, a prayer that is the centerpiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer services, which begins, “Sh'ma Yisrael.” “Hear O Israel.” As Rabbi Howard Cooper points out in his book “The Alphabet of Paradise, the english word “hear” does not fully capture the meaning of the Hebrew word shema. Shema, he notes, ‘essentially means ‘pay attention.’ The prayer then is calling Israel, which by the way means, “the one who wrestles/struggles with God”…or Life.…to pay or give attention to Life…to being.
And is this not why we also gather here, in this place… to hear Life?
Indeed, Here H-E-R-E and Hear H-E-A-R, as the sermon title suggests, are holy homophones (each of two or more words having the same pronunciation but different meanings) that describe what Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church, “The little stone church that rocks” is all about.
Here: We unite in an atmosphere of care and support to foster spiritual health and growth.
Here: We focus on sharing our ideas and histories, with warmth, hope, loving friendship and an open mind.
Here: We nurture stability for our daily lives and seek motivation to reach out to the larger community.
And why do we do this? To hear. To give our attention. To wrestle with this life and the mystery of being, and connect with what is going on moment by moment in us, to us, between us.
And yet we experience tension, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, between our material and spiritual inclinations. Tension not unlike a sibling rivalry.
While in the story Cain and Abel are siblings, two separate characters, the author of the story knew Cain and Abel co-exist within each of us as individuals.
And so we have a story which describes the universal human experience of competing interests, needs and inclinations. A story that offers us both a warning and hope.
The warning is not, as some might be quick to claim, that our material inclinations are bad and our spiritual ones are good. So you better make the “right” choice. No. The warning is not that dictatorial. Instead it is something we’re invited to discover by struggling/wrestling with the story.
What, for example, is this story’s take on the human condition? What is it saying to us about our emotions, our vulnerabilities and needs and where or to what or to whom we turn as they arise? What potential advantages or pitfalls does it point out in our own response to the competing demands of life, including whether or not, or how often, to give attention to our spiritual lives? Ponder these and the warning will emerge from your heart, rather than from words on a page.
The hope lies in the way the story ends. Recall that after Cain kills Abel, God asks Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” Cain responds, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” A question that really concerns the interdependence of our material and spiritual inclinations or nature.
Many, thinking the answer obvious, are quick to conclude, “Yes, of course you are.” But that quick conclusion may have more to do with being told how “good” people should answer than with any real experience living the question.
God, on the other hand, doesn’t answer. What’s that about?
Well, God…or Life…as you’ve probably experienced, isn’t all that keen on simple yes or no answers.
Maybe God doesn’t answer because we must discover the answer for ourselves?
And indeed, at the very end of the story, which I did not include as part of today’s reading- as a surprise- God sends Cain into exile, to live as “a restless wanderer on the earth.” And so Cain goes off to live in the land of Nod, east of Eden. The Hebrew root of the word Nod, means shaking like a reed, fleeing danger, staggering or wandering about aimlessly. In essence it means confusion.
I can’t help but think of our own time, now. Humanity, so often, seems to be living in the land of Nod. We’re all occasional visitors to Nod, of course. Our Cain nature, if you will, is strong, willful, and modern culture encourages and caters to it everywhere we turn. Yet, we are increasingly and profoundly unhappy, stressed, angry… dis-spirited. In our confusion we look to creating, acquiring and possessing even more things…everything from phones to extra extra-curricular activities, to social one-upmanship and political victories, as a way out.
The problem is these aren’t equipped to handle the concerns that trouble our consciences.” They’re not necessarily wrong in and of themselves, but they don’t help us hear, that is, pay attention, to “being.”
The hope in the story is we will get sick of wandering in confusion, discover the interdependence of our material and spiritual nature and find our way back, to recalibrate our lives.
And so we gather here, in this house. To get out of Nod, at least for a while. To unplug and reconnect to ourselves, others and the world in which we live. Connection that is made and sustained when we deliberately, regularly bid welcome…give our attention to… Life, to “being”, to what is going on moment by moment in us, to us, between us. May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be
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