Recognizing that he could never out power the intimidating Connors, Ashe devised a strategy that would turn his own weakness into strength.  His relatively slow, but accurate first serve prevented Connors from his usual practice of attacking a second serve.  Unable able to compete with Connors on a powerful game from back line to back line, he hit self described ‘dinks’ just over the net and then lobs over Connors head.  He didn’t try to outhit him, he simply tried to take what many saw as his deficiencies –age, lack of speed and lack of strength – as his opportunity to keep Connors off balance and out of sync.  There were those who criticized Ashe for not playing ‘real’ tennis that day, meaning he didn’t win with power.  To his critics, Ashe simply replied that his goal was to win the match and the only way to do it was by turning his weaknesses to his advantage.  It was yet another reminder that that strength has its limits and that weaknesses are sometimes are our best assets.

Today’s first word, in our ongoing series of 12 simple words of faith, is rooted in the idea that sometimes one’s weakness can be turned into strength.  The word is HELP.  Each week we’re looking at two words that might be seen as spiritual practices.  We’re hoping that by focusing on simple practices, we might find some daily or regular ways to engage our Spirit and faith that is renewing and useful in living with hope and joy.

The practice of HELP is what author Brian McLaren calls spiritual jujitsu – a weaponless martial art that turns the force of the attacker back on the attacker. (Brian McLaren, Naked Spirituality, 2011)

The apostle Paul spoke of ‘boasting of his weaknesses so that the power of Christ would dwell in me…when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Isn’t that at the root of the baptisms and the renewal of our baptisms we just experienced this morning; a willingness to recognize our need for help in this life?  Aren’t we saying that without the love, power, and grace that comes to us through the Spirit and through community, we cannot become all that we might otherwise be?

The practice of help is also called expansion because it involves expanding our resource base beyond our limited capacities; moving us from self-reliance to Spirit-reliance.(McLaren, Naked Spirituality, 2011)

Sometimes the practice of ‘help’ requires re-calibrating how we understand ourselves in the world.

Recently I was in a conversation with a family about their father’s aging and the many concerns that are arising with his behavior and limitations.  When the issue of driving came up, two approaches were considered.  One approach was to confront the dad to say, ‘soon it will be time for you to stop driving so you don’t get hurt or hurt someone else.’  While possibly honest, most in the family recognized this would not be very effective or helpful, as the father would probably resist.  A second approach was to affirm the father for the choices he was already making to limit his driving, asking others to drive at night or in heavy traffic.  What the second approach has to offer, it seems to me, is the affirmation of the father’s willingness to ask for help where he once wouldn’t have.  He was being encouraged to expand himself, not limit.

Bill Wineke, who has preached here on occasion, once told me that aging highlights one of the most difficult yet important spiritual lessons in life – giving up control and asking for help.

At other times this practice can be wordless, what one author calls ‘the great unsaying’ (Richard Rohr, The Naked Now, 2011). 

The ancient Old Testament word for God was Yahweh.  But originally it was just a collection of letters, YHWH 9yod, he, vav, he.  It was considered literally unspeakable and to try saying it was considered ‘in vain.’  New insights point out that while this word was always unspeakable, formerly it wasn’t spoken but breathed.  Many are convinced that the correct pronunciation is an attempt to replicate and imitate the very sound in inhalation and exhalation.  Therefore, the one thing we do at every moment is say the name of God.  (Rohr, The Naked Now, 2011)

This can be considered the ‘great unsaying’ because in ‘simply’ breathing, without using words, without framing thoughts, we could imagine ourselves praying for help.  Expansion here is expanding our chest to let in the Spirit of God, deepening our breath to fill ourselves with the Divine Love.  It comes a practice of help that is without words, not because we are afraid to ask for help, but because we realize we hardly even know what we need help with, much less how to ask.  We acknowledge that our need for help goes deeper than words, deeper than cognition.  Breathing meditation, or breath prayers, both precede and follow understanding.

As I look at our culture today, I wonder if developing the practice of help isn’t one of our most pressing needs.  All of us are facing change, struggle, and chaos in some area of our lives.  All of us feel either overwhelmed or powerless in some area.  We live with fear – for our marriages, for our economic livelihood, for the culture into which our children and grandchildren will grow, for our environment and our civic life.  We fight depression, over-eating, and physical problems that can leave us feeling isolated, alienated, or lonely.

Our faith urges us to step back from this fear to gain perspective.  From the beginning of our bible through today, through our shared experience with one another and with the ancients, we learn that life isn’t supposed to be easy and that struggle can lead to growth.

In the book of Genesis, God creates a universe characterized neither by fully ordered stasis nor complete chaos, but by order and chaos in dynamic tension.  From that point on, the Bible tells us that the hardships life throws at us are not intended to destroy us, but provide opportunities to strengthen us.

In Romans, Paul writes that we celebrate our sufferings, because they produce in us endurance, which produces character, which produces hope, which makes us receptive to the outpouring of God love in our hearts (5:3-6).  We may wish for another way, but it seems there is no other way.

Along the way to developing these beautiful qualities we discover inter-dependence – the ability to reach beyond ourselves, to ask for help from others and from God, and to offer help as we are able.  Life, for those willing to see, is organized for mutuality and vital connection.  Many would go further and say that it is precisely these connections that define the Holy.  (McLaren, Naked Spirituality, 2011, p. 108)

While always a balancing act, the practice of asking for help is a direct challenge to the individualist, “I can do it myself” ethic that is a deeply ingrained attitude for many of us.

• Where we see weakness, our faith highlights the broader strength of a community or relationship.
• Where we feel embarrassment, our faith teaches inter-dependence on God and others as wisdom.
• Where we see ourselves as a bother, our faith teaches us that meeting our need can be a great blessing to someone else.

A second practice which flows from ‘help’ is “Please” – the practice of compassion and intercession.

Traditionally, we think of intercession as the act of asking God for things we need.  Those of you here on Christmas Eve might remember me quoting Catholic priest, Richard Rohr, who described prayer as putting out a tuning fork.  All we can really do in the spiritual life, he says, is get ‘tuned’ to receive the always present message.  Intercession, then, is opening ourselves to a deep resonance, positioning ourselves not so much to talk, but to listen.  Rather than an attempt to change God’s mind about something, it is more rightly understood as an attempt to change OUR minds so that things like mystery, forgiveness, infinity, and paradox resonate within us.

In the  practice of please, of intercession, we rightfully bring our deep concern and need – those things for which we ask help – and hold them humbly in an attitude that my time of prayer is about opening up, being open to change within ourselves, rather than simply asking God to give us something.   Deeply connected, deeply conscious and alive because of our web of relationships, we seek not to control  God, but to listen, to be led, to be guided, to be prayed through.

The Quakers, I once learned, have a simple image for this – holding someone in the light.  By bringing that which they care about to prayer, they seek to bring it into the light of God, the light of Holy Love, the light of infinite healing.  To bring one ‘into the light’ doesn’t presume we know the answer, but it does presume the combination of deep concern, shared love and holy light will produce and reveal even greater love.

Yesterday, I got an email from a friend who is another UCC pastor.  He was on his way to visit someone in his church, a 98 year old who ‘loudly left the church because they called a (gay) pastor.’  Thousands of miles away, unaware of the explicit and implicit dynamics of both people, their histories, the church and even the day they had yesterday, how could I pray?  How could I practice “please” or intercession?  I could hold the entire situation ‘in the light’-trusting that the Light of the Spirit would be present and transformative.  I say ‘please’ by listening for God, looking for light, trusting in paradox and mystery.  I trust that if I hold these people – some I know and some I don’t – in the light, it might be more possible for them to feel and know the light.  I can’t nor shouldn’t define exactly how, but I trust that the light is greater than all of us even as it is within all of us.

And tomorrow, if I hear that the incident went poorly, I say ‘please’ in the same way again.

Lived this way, the practice of please is no longer an anxious sharing of troubles with the faint hope that God will take them away.  It is a deeply communal, deeply inter-connected state of openness to what is happening around us, and how even the most tragic circumstances will illuminate hope and possibility.

The practices of ‘help’ and ‘please’ may require more Arthur Ashe qualities, requiring humility to see life as it really is, not as we want or pretend it to be.  They also require courage to seek resources beyond ourselves.  For the sake of our faith, for the sake of our communities; may we live with such humility and courage.

Amen.

Sacred Texts for this sermon

We have access by faith into this grace in which we stand through him, and we boast in the hope of God’s glory. ³ But not only that! We even take pride in our problems, because we know that trouble produces endurance, ⁴ endurance produces character, and character produces hope. ⁵ This hope doesn’t put us to shame, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.  Romans 5

At its best, prayer does not seek to manipulate the mind of God into doing my will – quite the opposite.  Prayer enters the pool of God’s own love and widens outward.                      Philip Yancey

The first word for today is “O” – the practice of awe and worship, awakening to the joy and beauty of God.

Naturalist and original conservationist, John Muir once penned words that remind us of the psalms, and even the sentiments of others since his time:

Oh, these vast, calm measureless mountain days… in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God.…These blessed mountains are so compactly filled with God’s beauty, no petty personal hope or experience has room to be . ..A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship… Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God’s first temples…

For Muir, the practice of awe occurred when he walked in nature, particularly the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  If we slow down our lives a bit, all of us have some aspect of life that inspires awe and the awakening to the joy and beauty of God.

O is not just a word, but a way of life.  While this ‘practice’ is easy to comprehend, many of us need something to remind us of this, and therefore, your bulletin has a suggested prayer for your use during the week.

The second word is Sorry – the practice of self-examination, and confession, strengthening through failure.

Who among us hasn’t had failure?  Who among us doesn’t know the pain of causing others pain, of causing ourselves pain and disappointment?   If this is ture, the real issue is not failure, but how to understand, own and grow from it.

While we’re calling this series, simple, many parts of life are not.  “There are shades of gray between our black and white extremes, layers of complexity under every surface.  And no where is this more true than when we deal with our own behavior.’  (McLaren, p. 88).

It makes the spiritual practice of “sorry” even more important.  It isn’t a practice of beating ourselves up, isn’t about suggesting the grace of God is in question.  Sorry is recognizing what it means to be human, which is imperfect and at times confused.  Sorry is taking responsibility for our actions with a spirit not of judgment, but of honesty.

Author Brian McLaren invites shares the simple example;  imagining we are singing together in church, maybe a lovely praise song like Joyful, Joyful we Adore You…Our eye catches the eye of another worshipper, and soon our imagination is writing a mental screenplay for our critique of them, our judgment of their children, their clothes, their political opinions.  In a moment, before we are even aware of it, even while we are singing about our love for God, we’ve succumbed to attitudes and behavior that are less than laudable – and this is among people we like.  Think of how easy we succumb to this with those we don’t like!

In a sense, the practice of confession in our tradition, in our culture and even in our church is another in our  many practices of ‘coming out’ – honestly and openly admitting and facing our true selves.  The practice suggests that we “don’t have to hide the real us – the insecure us, the doubtful us, the angry us, the complex, different, tempted, actual human us.” (p.89)

While I’m not a recovering addict, the 12 step process used by people with various addictions has been very instructive in this practice.  As a seminarian, I did a practical internship at a recovery center.  As part of the process, I was required to do a ‘fifth step.”  This is where one admits “to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”  I shared this step with the center chaplain, as did everyone there.  After I was all done, he reminded me that all those who loved me and knew me well already knew all of my wrongs.  If I had certain personality tendencies, certain ways in the world that I used to hide my true self, to justify myself, or to judge others – people who knew me knew all of this.  They may not know specifics – in a sense what I was actually thinking during the singing of that hymn I just talked about – but they knew my tendencies and still loved me.

What I heard in his wisdom was the truth that confession and saying sorry isn’t about making us perfect, but sharing  our humanness before Divine Love.  Being human is acknowledging that without Holy grace, and without community, it is easier to hide behind false pretenses, insecurities, and wounds that keep us from being our best selves in the world.

Religion has for so long been associated with trying to make us feel bad.  Many of us continue to recover from traditions that suggest how disappointed God is in us (which itself is a rather self centered view of God); religious leaders continue to speak is spiteful, arrogant tones about choices they disagree with, or even bad choices people make.  But maybe our faith would serve the world better and ourselves if we seek authenticity and transparency rather than seeking to be ‘right’ on everything and judgmental towards others.

As a pastor, one of the open questions I live with is how to practice confession in community.  What I know is that most of us are neither motivated nor inspired by beginning worship proclaiming all the bad things we’ve done this week.  We’re working as hard as we can – and sometimes just getting to worship is a chore in itself – we’re feeling discouraged and drained and confused and humbled by the events of our week – so much so that the immediate call to repent either falls on deaf ears, or worse yet, distances us from the loving grace we so desperately want and need in our lives.

What we all need, it seems to me, are communal prayers that celebrate our humanness, as well as our need to remember God’s grace, the possibility of our lives as well as our need to open our hearts to Holy Love after a week of living by our own power and strength alone.   In short, we seek to own up to ourselves, in community, to our true beautiful and needful selves.  When we do an actual prayer of confession, we increasingly begin that prayer with an affirmation of God’s grace and love.  We seek to model that confession, rather than distancing us from God, flows from our experience of Divine Love.

We might think of it in a similar way we seek to parent.  Do we want to communicate to our children that our love is conditional and that therefore we’ll wait to dispense with affirmation until we’ve heard the wrong they’ve done; or do we want them to know beyond a shadow of doubt that no matter what they do, we’ll love them.  These are all complex and nuanced issues, but most of us want to communicate unconditional love.  And if we in families are actually growing together, we’ll find that it is love that helps us get through the tough times, the differences of opinions, or the different lifestyles.  While I may feel deep sadness and anger that parents kick children out of the home for being gay, or because they have certain friends, or because they’ve changed religions – what is most sad is that the parent doesn’t even seem to be trying to love unconditionally.  None of us do it perfectly, and few of us well.  But, as people following Jesus, it seems to me that it should at least be our goal, our hope, or our desire.  And if we, who are flawed, seek to love in this way, the Bible says, how much more does God love us unconditionally.

One of the great contributions of liberal and progressive religion is the reminder that the practice of “sorry” before God includes both personal and social sin, personal and social shortcomings.  Our faith also reminds us that we are interdependent and connected to all of life, and thus our actions and inactions affect not just our loved ones, but peoples and communities we never see, and even the creatures and environment with whom we share this planet.

The practice of “sorry” in this context requires a humility and openness to learning HOW we are connected.  Confession in community serves as a buffer against an attitude of entitlement and egotism.  In 1925, Indian spiritual leader Mahatma Ghandi described the 7 social sins (mirroring the idea of the 7 deadly sins).  They are:

• Politics without Principle
• Wealth Without Work
• Pleasure Without Conscience
• Knowledge without Character
• Commerce without Morality
• Science without Humanity
• Worship without Sacrifice

Each of these ‘social sins’ demonstrates how we are always in the process of growing and learning.  It is a perspective that counters the common cultural tendency to compartmentalization.

While we at the liberal end of the political spectrum find it easy to point out the social sins of others – and really watching politics in this country makes it too easy – Ghandi was inviting us to reflect on our own actions.  Not a single one of these ‘sins’ he named is easy to understand, easy to master.  In the language of Buddhism, it demands a life of mindfulness and attentiveness.  They requires constant processing and constant humility.  They require conversation, adaptation, and evolution in our thinking.

Recognizing this, we see that the practice of Sorry, the act of Confession moves us from a ‘status’ mindset to a ‘becoming mindset…  p.98, 99.  It moves us from “I am who I am and I can’t change” to “I am constantly becoming myself.”  It is, by definition, a practice rooted in redemption, re-formation, re-newal.

However misused, ‘sorry’ has been one of our faith’s beautiful contributions to the human journey.  Whether the psalms or ancient prayers, our tradition has provided practices that remind us we are complex, we are confusing, we are yearning, and we are part of what brings hope to others.  The more we live into the fullness of ALL that it means to be human, the more we can be a force for good, for justice and for loveliness in the world.   Amen

A couple of years ago, I shared this story with a member of our church, Jeff Watson — who gave me permission to share the following story with you, names included. Jeff replied to me, “Wow, that’s similar to my son Adam’s experience in first grade. After the class learned about racism, the civil rights movement, and Dr. King, the students made their way to the lunch room where all the boys sat at one table to avoid the girls and all the girls sat at another table to avoid the boys. Adam saw what was happening, and shouted, “Wait a minute! We can’t do this! Haven’t we learned anything from Dr. King?!”

The little people get it. They always get it.

When we learn of populations in our cities, nation and world who struggle day in and day out for adequate housing, a living wage, a nutritious diet, reliable health care, access to good education, clean air and water, we exclaim, “This is terrible! We need to pray!” When we see what is really happening, with the gap between the haves and the have-nots widening, we shout, “Wait a minute! We can’t do this! Haven’t we learned anything from Dr. King?!”

Our little ones may be leading us to stand shoulder to shoulder with one another, and work for a more just world. Our Christian faith is not acceptance but protest, against the world that is, in the name of the world that is not yet, but ought to be. Don’t all God’s children deserve a place at the table?!

On  July 6, 1965, at the Fifth General Synod of the United Church of Christ, Martin Luther King addressed our denomination, saying: “Although the Church has been called to combat social evils, it has often remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows…How often the Church has been an echo rather than a voice, a tail-light behind the Supreme Court and other secular agencies, rather than a headlight guiding men and women progressively and decisively to higher levels of understanding.”

Isn’t this what we want for ORUCC? To be a church that is committed to justice, committed to combating social evils? To step out from behind our stained glass windows to be a Voice in this community for justice, to be a Headlight guiding people progressively and decisively to higher levels of understanding, health, wholeness, and well-being?

We can always do more, but what we’re doing is pretty amazing!

We’re moving into a partnership with other social service agencies to provide safe, affordable, accessible housing for low-income people right here in our own neighborhood.  We’re hosting people in need of emergency shelter in our own building through “Interfaith Hospitality Network,” also known as “The Road Home.” We’re purchasing beautiful hand-made greeting cards from Dianne Stevens with 100% of proceeds going to eviction-prevention. We’re  providing meals for the Men’s Shelter, donating blood and platelets, serving at soup kitchens, tutoring in elementary schools, protesting a state budget that many of us believed pulled the safety net out from under some of the most vulnerable in our communities, and on and on.

And most of our justice work goes on without public recognition. In small, but significant ways; in our homes, work places, schools, and civic organizations; by where we shop,  what we buy, and how we use our time off from our jobs; we’re letting our light shine for justice.

As Paul Patenaude leaves this week for Guatemala to take an intensive course in “Nursing Spanish,” and to volunteer in medical clinics, he will be letting his light shine for justice. As Helene Nelson leaves soon to spend a month tutoring English in a Brazilian University, she will be letting her light shine for justice.

When I asked Helene if I could share this, she responded, “Yes, but I’ll be having fun too!” And I replied, “Of course you’ll be having fun! Why shouldn’t our justice-work be fun?!”  Indeed, working for justice makes our own lives more meaningful!

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes, in his book To Heal a Fractured World, “To know that you made a difference, that in this all-too-brief span of years you lifted someone’s spirits, relieved someone’s poverty or loneliness, or brought a moment of grace or justice to the world that would not have happened had it not been for you: these are as close as we get to the meaningfulness of a life, and they are matters of everyday rather than heroic virtue.”

In President Obama’s inauguration speech, we heard, “What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task. This is the price and the promise of citizenship. This is the source of our confidence: the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny. This is the meaning of our liberty….and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.”

We have work to do. Our faith moves us to accept responsibility for improving living conditions for all of god’s people. The world will not get better of its own accord. Nor will we make it a more human place by leaving the job to someone else. We each play a part. We let our own light shine.

However free or affluent we are, might we become more alert to the poverty, suffering and loneliness of others? Might we become our brother’s keeper, our sister’s keeper?

Epiphany is the season of revelation.  As your pastors, we’ve increasingly had the sense that all of us, as people of faith, come to church in part because we too are looking for ‘revelation.’  We’re all looking for a visit from the magi who bring gifts that help define our future.  We’re all on a journey and looking for insight, tools, practices and aids to help us understand our faith, our life and our possibilities as human beings more deeply.

In the face of corrupted, intolerant religion – we’re looking for a faith that will affirm and uplift and challenge the best in us all.

In the face of simple, closed minded religion – we’re looking for ways to unite our mind and our heart.  We don’t want easy answers, but we do want something practical to help us discern the questions.

In the face of busy lives, lonely lives, less than full lives – we’re looking for a faith that means something.  We’re looking for a sense of ‘home’ in our spirits that is often illusive.   Much like a new year’s resolution to save more money needs a plan, so our spiritual life needs tangibility.

Ancient religious traditions and contemporary theories of education and human development agree that the way to build a life that is rich in spiritual experience is a life formed by practices.  By this we mean, doable habits or rhythms that transform us, rewiring our brains, restoring our inner ecology, renovating our inner architecture, expanding our capacities.  Actions within our power that help us become capable of things currently beyond our power.  (McLaren, p. 21).  Or, in the language of Epiphany, we’ll be exploring how it is that we open ourselves to revelation in our lives.   We’ll be using a framework outlined by Brian McLaren in his book, Naked Spirituality:  a life with God in 12 Simple words.

While there is some progression in these words, the truth is that our life ebbs and flows in and among all lve all the time.  We’re hoping that this journey brings a more clear and simple framework, but allows for multiple expressions, nuance and adaptability.

1. The first word in this journey is HERE – or the spiritual practice presentation, awakening to the presence of God.

We begin with the ancient story of Moses.  Here I am, he said.  Tending the sheep of his father in law, he encounters a burning bush and is confused as to why the bush doesn’t burn up.  Turning away, he hears the voice of God calling his name.  Moses, Moses.  Here I am, he says, in one of the most prominent and instructive phrases in the entire bible.  Here I am.  Mesmerized by life as well as confused, he says, here I am.  It is a stance of openness, not a stance of certainty.  This posture would be repeated over and over throughout the Bible;   Hannah in the Old Testament, Mary in the gospels, Jesus at the cross, Paul on the road.  Here I am.

Quite often when we read texts or hear stories about people ‘hearing the voice of God’ we focus on the voice; and we wonder why we never hear it.  It is easy to overlook the regular, daily attitude of openness to life’s mystery and awesomeness.   Here I am begins long before we hear any voices.

To name a spiritual practice with the word Here, right now – suggests that the starting place for a spiritual life is not ‘then’ or ‘somewhere else’ or ‘when I become…”  Rather, the starting place is an understanding that this is the moment, this is the life, this is the experience in which God is made manifest.

Anthony Bloom, orthodox priest, writes that “you will find stability at the moment when you discover that God is everywhere, that you do not need to seek God elsewhere, that God is here…at this moment you recognize you can truly find the fullness of the kingdom of God in all its richness within you.”

Isn’t it true that even in church, even in a place and time that we set apart for our spiritual lives we are often ‘not here.’  By that, I don’t mean the act of letting our mind wander, but the act of living somewhere else in our life or our week while we are here.  People joked that when we put windows above the choir, it would be easy to be distracted during the sermon.

But, if following a bird, or watching the clouds or soaking in the light allows you to be present to this moment – that’s the best sermon for you right now.  If you get hooked by one word or phrase or one song and can’t ‘leave’ that text – that’s the spiritual practice of ‘here’ and it is beautiful.  If the face of a fellow worshipper across the room brings you joy or fills you with respect or love, it means you are here.

This is quite different from being in the room but absent to oneself, in the midst of others but consumed with what comes next, what has already been done.  That’s different from moving and thinking and living with so much preoccupation that we are never ‘present’ to the moment at hand.

In early September, I was driving west towards San Diego for a week long retreat.  I had not planned the week to 10 days on either side of the retreat, but had started driving in my car with the idea that I would ‘go where the spirit said go.’  After an unexpected delay in Omaha, I found myself in New Mexico and Northern Arizona.  I loved the high desert, the big sky, the red rocks, and the open spaces; and stayed there until my retreat started.  But it was after the retreat that I had a ‘here I am” moment.  Prior to and during the retreat, I had been debating in my head where I would go for my final 7-8 days of this supposedly spontaneous trip.  Would I stay in LA, drive up the CA coast, beeline to Oregon to visit friends, maybe even Seattle?  How much time would it take to do those routes?  How many days could I spare before returning to WI?

Somewhere near Escondido, north of San Diego, the highway rose over a ridge and all I could see to my left was ocean.  Uninhabited, wide-open ocean.  Waves and rising fog and sand and an endless horizon.  In that very moment, I went from being “somewhere else” to being “right here.”  In that instant, I knew that my free time after the retreat would be spent at the ocean.  Thinking ahead, weighing the options, imagining a route – all means of keeping me from being ‘present’ to the ‘here’ – were thrown out the window.

What I realized (and had the luxury of doing immediately) was that the soulful restoration I was looking for at this moment in my life would be embraced by ‘ocean time.’  With no disrespect to the beauty and/or spiritual power of anywhere else, if I was able to say, “here I am” to God, it would be right in this place.  And that’s what I did and it was a  simple, unprogrammed, and deeply moving week of my sabbatical.

The issue, of course, isn’t that God speaks through the ocean or in the ocean.  The issue is that after thousands of miles of being ‘somewhere else’ – I had a few miles where I was able to listen to the Spirit, listen to my spirit and say, “here I am, here I am.”  The issue is that for most of us, all kinds of forces prevent us from being ‘here.’  Now.  All kinds of good things in our lives obscure our ability to be present.

Author Sam Keen is more poetic as he reminds us that the “word of God” – the logos as the gospel of John calls it, is very much alive ALL AROUND us.

The logos, the Word…that informs the cosmos is still spoken in sparrow song, wind sigh, and leaf fall.  An electron is a single letter, an atom a complex word, a molecule a sentence and a mockingbird an entire epistle in the great ongoing saga. The ocean still whispers the song that originated with the big bang. Listen to the longing in your heart for love and justice, and you may hear the sacred word.  To live in a reverential manner, (to live here)…is to create an autobiography in which we tell the stories of the unique epiphanies that have informed our lives.  (Sam Keen)

Photographer Louie Schwartzberg, in a recent TED talk titled Gratitude (TedxTalks, Gratitude) said in the face of beauty and mystery and life in general, our common response is often “O My God.”

O – means it – something – caught our attention, makes us present, makes us mindful

My – means that whatever it was connects with something deep inside our soul, creates a gateway for our inner voice to rise up and be heard.

God –names that personal (spiritual) journey we all want to be on; to be inspired, to feel like we are connected to a universe that celebrates life

Here I am – O My God, Moses said.  Can we say it?  Can we live it?  Can we open ourselves to the power of the Spirit in this moment as a daily spiritual practice?  Might the prayer in your bulletin be a place to start – at the end of your day, at lunch, at the beginning of the day?  Might not this prayer, this ritual, or something like it be part of a regular practice that helps remind you of the power being ‘here?’  The issue isn’t that we don’t know this way of living, it is that we can be so easily distracted from it.  We can so easily miss the invitation, the sign, the ‘voice’ as Exodus writes it.

Suggested Practices for the first two words:  HERE and THANKS

HERE

#1

Here I am, O Holy One (take a moment to reflect on where you are right now – physically, emotionally,  personally, socially, spiritually.  Try to do so without judgment, but just with awareness)

And here you are, O Loving One (take a moment to pause and become aware of your experience of, or feelings about, God at this moment.  How would you name God today?)

Here we are together

#2

With palms open and facing down – I am here in this place, now.

Then turn them upward – I am here in this place, open to you, God.

THANKS

Raise your fists in defiance (against the greed and ‘never enough’ system) and then open them as a gesture of  thanksgiving to God, appreciating the abundance you already possess.

Source:  Naked Spirituality:  A Life with God in 12 Simple Words; Brian McLaren, HarperOne, 2011)

As a kid, we used to go to watch the Minnesota Twins play baseball a couple of times a summer, buying the cheap bleacher seats in left field in the old Metropolitan stadium.  Not being a bird watching family, baseball games were the only time I used binoculars.  In fact, we’d often jostle one another for the chance to look through the binoculars when our favorite player was up to bat.  My experience was usually both fascinating and frustrating.  With the powerful lens, the batter at home plate across the field looked much closer and that was cool.  At the same time, if he actually hit the ball, the close up vision made it almost impossible to follow the ball through the infield or outfield.  Therefore, the glass helped in some ways and did not in others.  Depending on what you wanted to see, a different ‘lens’ was needed.

This holds true for our lives too.  Depending on where we are and what we are looking at, a different ‘lens’ is needed.  Young or old, the ‘lens’ through which we observe the world needs constant updating, adaptation and renewal.  Maybe the world has changed, maybe we have changed.  Either way, it is easy to find ourselves out of sync.

New Year’s Day is a good time put on the ‘long range’ lens and ask ‘where are we going this year?’  While it might feel like an arbitrary time to do this, and it actually is, the act of looking further ahead is a good one, so New Year’s Day is as good as any other time.

As people of both testaments, followers of Jesus, the lens through which we have understood life spiritually is the tradition of grace and mercy known in the ancient and contemporary God.  As we consider looking ahead, reminding ourselves of this grace is a good place to start.

ü “Create in me a pure heart, O God,” said David in the psalm 51, “and renew a steadfast spirit within me.”  Coming after his own personal and political indiscretions of adultery, murder and treason, this prayer has reminded people of faith for centuries that with God, new life, renewal, and second chances are always possible.   Nothing we’ve done will push God’s love away from us.

ü The prophet Isaiah said, “But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”   Spoken by and to a people who lived their whole lives waiting for the coming of God in a new and powerful way, these words remind us that even when we feel low, even when we feel stuck, even in the face of an uncertain future, God promises strength and courage.

ü And from the New Testament, “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—(her) good, pleasing and perfect will.”  Written by Paul, seeking to help young Christians in Rome live out their faith in the midst of a world and culture that didn’t understand them, these words gave focus and poignancy to the power of faith to guide and direct our decisions.

ü Grace, strength, guidance – these are the hallmarks of God’s work in our world, and in our lives.

Astro physicist Mario Livio was recently interviewed on the question of how scientific inquiry relates to the question of the spiritual life…”The thing is that in science unless you have a well-defined problem… it is virtually impossible to actually answer it.”  Speaking of a dark matter,  a subject he studies, he said, “… I try to ask myself, what is the biggest question we don’t understand about this?  And then I try to see if I can do anything to try to answer that question. Now, when it comes to things such as life (questions), very often I don’t even know what question to pose, let alone to try to find an answer.

(What I do know) is that the people who do the best work are those who try to take baby steps …(using) very simple experiments. …They don’t try to take a test tube and see whether a baboon walks out of that.” ( http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2011/who-ordered-this/)

He’s on to something.  Namely, that a critical thing we can do as we look ahead is ask the right questions; what one theologian called ‘the adaptive questions.”  These are the questions that leverage other questions and discoveries in our lives.

With baby steps in mind, with grace and strength and guidance as our promise, I’d invite us to use the ‘lens’ of the mindfulness trainings of Thich Nhat Hanh through which we ask questions of our lives heading into 2012.   These aspirations, are what his Buddhist followers use to make sense of the world and their role in it.  While they are intended as daily reminders, for our purposes they may be a helpful place to look ahead, ask questions of ourselves and lay out intentions for this coming year.  (http://deerparkmonastery.org/mindfulness-practice/the-five-mindfulness-trainings)

I’m using excerpts, but the trainings are printed in their entirety in the bulletin.  I’m going to read part of the trainings, and ask a couple of questions emerging from them.  You may choose to use the bulletin now, or later, to jot down your own thoughts and questions and ideas related to each one.  You may only find one of them relevant, or you may appreciate all five.  The number doesn’t matter, our intention to reflect on our lives is what matters.

Reverence For Life
Aware of the suffering caused by the destruction of life, I am committed to cultivating the insight of interbeing and compassion and learning ways to protect the lives of people, animals, plants, and minerals. …. Seeing that harmful actions arise from anger, fear, greed, and intolerance, … I will cultivate openness, non-discrimination, and non-attachment to views in order to transform violence, fanaticism, and dogmatism in myself and in the world.

How might we cultivate openness, non discrimination, and non attachment – the ability to hold things ‘lightly’ realizing that even ‘ideas’ can become possessions that we cling onto?  While this is an oft stated value of liberal people and Christians, might we ask ourselves where we need to grow in this regard?

How might our learning about others – people, plants, and minerals – deepen our own appreciation for life?
True Happiness
Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, social injustice, stealing, and oppression, I am committed to practicing generosity in my thinking, speaking, and acting. …. I will practice looking deeply to see that the happiness and suffering of others are not separate from my own happiness and suffering; that true happiness is not possible without understanding and compassion; ….

Where do our happiness and compassion for others intersect?  How do we look at what we have in life to find happiness, rather than looking somewhere ‘out there?’

True Love
Aware of the suffering caused by sexual misconduct, I am committed to cultivating responsibility and learning ways to protect the safety and integrity of individuals, couples, families, and society… Seeing that body and mind are one, I am committed …to cultivating loving kindness, compassion, joy and inclusiveness – which are the four basic elements of true love – for my greater happiness and the greater happiness of others.

How might we attend to our loving relationships of all kinds in this year?  How are our primary and secondary relationships building ourselves and others up in a culture and era where so many relationships tear people down?

Nourishment and Healing
Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful consumption, I am committed to cultivating good health, both physical and mental, for myself, my family, and my society by practicing mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. I will practice looking deeply into how I consume the Four Kinds of Nutriments, namely edible foods, sense impressions, volition, and consciousness. .. I am determined not to try to cover up loneliness, anxiety, or other suffering by losing myself in consumption.

How can we grow in our mindfulness towards all that we consume, all that we do?  How are we attending to those nutrients – food, sense impressions, volition (will power) and consciousness?  How do we grow in our honesty towards ourselves and others?

Rooted in the God of second (and third…) chances, may we pray for growth this year  – in the way we revere life, define happiness, understand nourishment and healing, and live into love.  Rooted in the strength of God known and trusted by the ancients, may we seek to ask the right questions, take baby steps and treat ourselves and others with grace.  Amen.