This year, I intend to start blogging. It will be a new and
exciting venue for me and for our church. It’s always a challenge to
decide what to write about, whether its an email, a sermon or a lecture.
Blogs are supposed to be personal, authentic, neither lesson nor
sales tool. Blogs are supposed to present a unique perspective, to
portray both warts and awards. Blogs are supposed to make you smile.
Our Christmas Eve service qualifies. If I had started blogging this
week, I would have written about our Christmas Eve service.
For those of you who missed it, it was billed as a traditional evening
of carols, readings, remembrance time and Bible passages. Yes, we had
all of that, but along the way, something went amiss. Let me give you an
overview. In a well thought out design, shortly after the service
began, the children left the sanctuary for a reading.
We turned the lights down and lit candles in the chancel area. It
was beautiful. Subtle
Christmas designs covered the tables, soft lights flickered
tantalizingly. It was truly
magical, a good space to pause and remember, to think of those not with
us, and to wish for peace. As we
came out of silence I asked people to turn to their inserts which
contained the next hymn. Dutifully they groped for the right
page. Squinting mightily they searched for the right hymn. Diligently
they tried to sing. Poor folks they could not see a thing. Neither could
I. Yet I plowed on, inviting readers to the podium, supplying them with
a candle to read by. Ed and Diane grasped their candles and pushed
their heads closer to the page. Luckily, they knew their material
and, as one congregant joyfully stated, the readings were sooo
beautiful.
Of course, I could not see the program either so I relied on my memory
to guide me. Oh what a tangled web.
Now there is Jan who had cheerfully agreed to read the Rudolph story to
the children while the adults sat in extended silence. Jan’s cue was to
come in after a particular hymn so you can guess what might happen by
having the hymns read out of order.....well, Jan's smart. She knew when
it was the wrong time. She just had to figure out when it was the right
time. Let’s just say that Jan had to use her best peeking in to the
sanctuary judgment to decide when to return.
There is so much more that we could say about the Christmas Eve
Service. I particularly enjoyed the end when everyone waved their still
unlit hand held candles high in air, signifying yet another missed step.
Now a really seasoned minister might have prattled, “ As we wave
our as yet unlit candles we hope for illumination in these troubled
times so that by next year everyone’s little light may shine!.. But,
being not that quick, Let's
just wrap it up by saying, Next year, don't miss the Christmas Eve
Service. Its worth the venture.
But why did I bring it up? How could this service possibly relate
to the topic of the day -- hope and forgiveness. I could say
that I forgive myself that experience and hope I do better next time.
And that might do the trick. I might feel cleansed of that event and
open to the new adventures before me. However, there is a real
difference between superficial and whole bodied forgiveness. Some
mistakes do not resolve by heartfelt remorse.
Some mistakes grate like the ocean tide; surging and retreating
in a rhythmic pattern of unease. Sometimes
it is difficult to forgive our own weaknesses and lapses in judgment. We
offer blame, judgment and excuses.
If I had only planned better… If I had requested more help..If I
had been more quick on my feet…If only…
And what happens when we feel wronged by someone else?
All too often we do not ride a tide of surging and retreating
emotional waves; rather, we experience a tidal wave of emotion, a
direct, full force hit. How
could they do that to me? I
have been betrayed! I’ll
never trust them again. They don’t really love me.
That was intentional!
The stabbing sensation of an act deemed mean, unjust or
insensitive, is palpable.
Our head and our body react in concert.
The fight or flight response is triggered.
We want to undue the hurt, perhaps by striking back ourselves.
We react, rather than act.
We respond with a tidal wave of emotions, spitting out words that
destroy any immediate chance of reconciliation. We can wallow in this
dis-ease for a very long time.
In a situation of being wronged, whether the unresolved energy is
inwardly or outwardly focused is not of prime importance.
It is suffering.
This is dukkha.
The concept of Dukkha is central to the Buddhist faith tradition.
In its most accepted Western sense, Dukkha is suffering. It is
unsatisfactoriness, disquiet, frustration, unhappiness, anguish, dis-ease.
It is essentially transient.
There are many types of dukkha and today we will not deeply delve
into the concept. Rather, we will lightly explore its character.
In Buddhism there are Four Noble Truths, the tenets of the faith. The
first Noble Truth is that there is suffering.
Not many would disagree with that statement. The Second Noble
truth is stated in many ways, one of which is “We create our own
suffering.” It is a
powerful truism. Here are
some examples:
The three year old who falls and skins their knee.
They fall, it hurts, they begin to get up, and then after a
moment’s reflection they begin to wail.
This wailing is enhanced if there are adults readily available.
Suddenly they are in pain; they are suffering. Dukkha.
The wife lovingly makes a special breakfast for her husband. He rushes
downstairs, late for work, grabs a piece of toast, apologizes for not
having time to eat, kisses his wife, and runs out the door.
She closes the door, sits at the table and cries. Dukkha. She is
suffering.
You are driving the car. Someone cuts you off and speeds off. You scream
a few choice words, rant about the drivers in this city and work
yourself into a huff. This is dukkha.
You have been plotting and planning forever. You finally buy the
Mercedes Benz of your dreams. It is gorgeous, sleek and powerful, the
epitome of success. You are
ecstatic. Then, your best
friend purchases Consumer Reports and shows you the article that says
that the Lexus is a far better car, more powerful, better gas mileage
and more extras. Your reaction,
dukka.
Dukkha is an unproductive energy output, a negative reaction that feeds
on itself, a self indulgent suspension of mindfulness.
Instead of being in the moment, we turn inward and feed on
ourselves, regurgitating and embellishing a factoid with an
unsatisfactory spin. This is what happens when we do not forgive.
Dukkha is quite easily recognized as criticism. When we have done
something that is deemed inappropriate, wrong, weak, or mistaken, we
cultivate a sense of sorrow, failure, impotence or loss, that negatively
judges our self worth.. If
only I were a better person, had more sense, was smarter. ..
Let us remember the children’s story today.[1]
Even though the older monk helped a selfish woman across the puddle and
received no thanks, he went on about his business. It was his younger
companion who could not stop brooding over the woman’s rudeness. Finally
the older monk says, “I set that woman down hours ago…Why are you
still carrying her? Sometimes we carry great burdens of
un-forgivingness.
”Forgiveness is an act of pardon, a peeling away of resentment, a
renunciation of anger.
Today is the beginning of a new year. Today we ask each other to
consider forgiving, consider peeling away the anger and resentment that
has been brewing, that is stored in the background, ready to sabotage
our drive to live life to the fullest.
Each grudge, each unforgiven incident is a burden. The weight of
any one is perhaps not huge, but the weight of the whole sack of
burdens, is cumbersome, inhibiting our actions, exploiting our emotions,
and narrowing our rationalality.
Perhaps you believe all that you have heard this morning. You cann think
of a situation in which your energy is stuck.
You want to forgive. You may want to forgive yourself or forgive
someone else. For the moment, that distinction is unimportant. You are
ready to forgive. Yet, it
turns out that it is easier said than done. We might say the words to
our selves, “I forgive.” We may write or call another person, yet there
is no sense of satisfaction.
The forgiveness seems hollow or unfinished.
Let us explore why it is sometimes so difficult to forgive ourselves and
others. To do this, we must
identify the root of our discomfort and then try to understand it.
Often, this deeper reflection is necessary in order to be ready to
forgive. Without it we ruminate in a sea of discordant thoughts and
emotions.
Looking within is often difficult. Yet, it is necessary in order to
obtain clarity. I will suggest that one way to do this is through a tool
that is taught in spiritual direction. It is called focusing.
Unitarian Universalists already emphasize the need to learn through
empiricism, to explore and question in order to make up one’s mind, to
be open to new experience. These qualities of self study, curiosity and
openness are essential to learning the root cause of our discomfort.
The focusing method assumes that In order to do this one must
return to the body.
Focusing is a non rational, body bred method of learning more about the
self.
We must accept the fact that our body has wisdom to share.
Intuitively, we know that this is so.
We each have been in situations in which we said something or
acted in a certain way while our bodies were giving us contrary
information. Focusing is a
method of attentive self observation.
Eugene Gendlin is the creator of the focusing method. He has written
several books. One that is readily accessible is simply called
Focusing.[2]
Gendlin contends that we feel our meanings in the body. We have a bodily
felt sense which can alert us to meanings long before we can rationally
put them into words.
Focusing then is direct access to a bodily knowing. Focusing therapy has
six universally recognized steps. But one need not see a therapist to
practice focusing. Today we will consider the basic steps.
First, we want to clear a space in our bodies and rest in the problem.
As we do so, we become aware of our bodily sensations. As we stay with
the problem, not trying to understand it, but just sitting with it, we
experience a bodily sensation associated with it. We place a word around
it, alternating between the feeling and the word until the two seem to
resonate. At this point we
might ask ourself, “What is it about this problem that makes it feel so
blank? If your
mind gives you a quick response and you do not get a shift in body
sense, let it go by and return to the feeling, looking again for a
match. Continue this process until you feel a bodily shift, a new
understanding of the relationship of problem to the felt quality.
When this shift occurs, receive it openly, and stay with it. It
may give you partial understanding of the deeper issue. Later, you may
want to return to the issue and focus again, delving deeper into your
self.
The focusing technique encourages greater understanding through the use
of the body as an interpreter of feelings that are not clearly expressed
through words or emotions.
Thus, when you are having a difficult time forgiving, it is a technique
that may help you learn some of the deeper reasons for holding on to
that particular negative energy.
The act of focusing becomes the mechanism of forgivingness.
When we look at our sack of baggage, of our burdens and grudges, we must
sift through it with love, realizing that by withholding our love, we
are depriving ourselves of the freedom to openly interact in each
moment. We cannot fully
engage the now if we are weighed down by unresolved burdens toward
ourselves or others.
As Forgiveness experts
Sidney and Suzanne Simon[3]
note: Foregiveness is freeing up and putting to better use the energy
once consumed by holding grudges, harboring resentments, and nursing
unhealed wounds. It is rediscovering the strengths we always had and
relocating our limitless capacity to understand and accept other people
and ourselves.
Forgiveness is a letting go. It is also a reshaping of our thought to
focus on what we want and need rather than what we dislike about
ourselves and others. It is a focusing on the positive.
As Confucius stated so many years ago: The more you know
yourself, the more you forgive yourself.
It is an act of self love.
With forgiveness comes renewed energy, positive, forward reaching
energy. This is hope.
Hope is the desire of something
together with the expectation of obtaining it, the feeling that what is
sought can be achieved. Forgiveness opens us up to new horizons. We are
no longer burdened.
In an interview[4]
with Studs Terkel shortly before his death last year
Terkel noted that hope dies last—“La
esperanza muere última.” Without hope, you can’t make it.
And so long as we have that hope, we’ll be okay. Once you become active
helping others, you feel alive. You don’t feel, “It’s my fault.” You
become a different person. And others are changed, too.
Reinhold Niebuhr
in a reading familiar to many Unitarian Universalists notes that:
Nothing
worth doing is completed in our lifetime.
Therefore, we are saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate
context of history;
Therefore, we are saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.
No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend
or foe as it is from our own standpoint.
Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love, which is
forgiveness."
Yes, my friends, love, forgiveness and hope.
Today is a good day!
.
Let us now turn to a forgiveness ritual, called a Fire Communion or a
Burning Bowl ritual. Each
of you have a piece of paper and a pencil.
You are invited to write down something or more than one
something that you would like leave behind and not take into the new
year. Then you may symbolically leave behind the issue by burning the
paper in the fire pit. If
you would like, you are then invited to speak a message of hope into the
microphone before returning to your seat.
