|
|
|
|
Finding Holiness in Our Lives
December 13, 2009
|
|
Reading
“Lord, I have time” by Abbe Michel Quoist
I went out, Lord. People were coming and going, Walking and running.
You understand, Lord, They simply haven’t the time.
And so all people run after time, Lord.
Sermon I asked Bill Skidmore to share a song with us this Sunday about that which reflects some of the difficulties we face this winter season. So, he shared a song about a man driving his car who is multi-tasking using his cell phone and at the same time using his knees to guide the steering wheel on a treacherous path. God help us from such fools – but alas, I must confess that I have used a cell phone while driving [I don’t think I am alone here in this respect], though never did I use my knees to guide the car, nor did I text message anyone in the car, because frankly I have never in my life text messaged anyone, except to my daughter Sarah to say ‘thanks’ for a birthday greeting. And that, my friends, was enough text messaging in my life time. But often we get caught up in the hurly burly-ness of our existence, especially when we are trying to buy gifts for everyone who is important in our lives. That is not only a lot of time and trouble, but it can be very expensive. So, I thank Brother Bill for laying out the text for today’s sermon. I hope that I can do it justice. Now, while it may seem humorous that a man be a fool in such a way, I think there is an important, serious issue for us to consider for this winter season. Consider Abbe Michel Quoist’s poem “Lord, I have time”. Michel speaks to our modern dilemma, of not having enough time. It is as if we don’t have enough hours in the day. But suppose that all of sudden there were say 36 hours in a day, would that change things for us? Would we stop saying “I haven’t time”? Would we now help people or listen to people or consider people because, by gum, we got 12 more hours in the day? And would we take the time to drive safely rather than catching that phone call on our cell? And would we take the time to reflect and wonder? I believe that having the extra hours would not make much difference, simply because the problem is not one of time, but of knowing.
Last Sunday, I close with this reading from an anonymous author that I believe bears repeating here: If as Herod, we fill our lives with things and again with things; if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action; when will we have time to make the long slow journey across the desert wilderness as did the Wise Men? Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds? Or brood over the coming of the child as did Mary? For each one of us there is a desert wilderness to travel; a star to discover; and a being within ourselves to bring to life.Herod is like that man driving the car with his knees. He fills his life with things and action, with wealth, power and fame and yet he has forgotten something. Yesterday morning I had a class on comparative religions watching a video of Huston Smith based on his book, World Religions. Smith brings to us he best in religions to help us find our wisdom, our confidence, and our loving nature. At one point, we had a discussion about Huston Smith’s notion that the core motif of Hinduism is that we can get what we want. Now, the Hindus have a different notion about what it means to get what we want than what we do. We in the West and in America in particular believe that getting what we want are things outside of ourselves – of fame, fortune, power, status, marriage to the right person, etc. But what we want is beyond that, according to Hinduism as explained by Huston Smith. What we truly want is liberation. Dale Gibson then brought up the case of Tiger Woods, perhaps the greatest golfer that had ever lived. Here is a man who had it all, wealth, fame, power, a beautiful wife, adoring fans, etc. And yet, who among us here would want to be in his shoes. He forgot what was important because he was unwilling, or perhaps unable to walk the desert wilderness to find a being within himself to bring to life. Perhaps, if he had taken the time to meditate and reflect – to just look at the stars as did the Shepherds, perhaps then he would have found what was truly important to him. But I believe it is not too late for Tiger, for even now, or perhaps especially now he can brood as did Mary for this time of discovery of a new being inside of him, of finding holiness in his life. Now, some of you may bristle at the word “holiness” with all of its religious connotations. But I think of the word as derived from the Anglo-Saxon word “hal” or “hale” which means “whole” as in “wholeness” and gives the word “health”. Thus, I think of the idea of finding “holiness” as finding our health or our wholeness – of putting our fractured lives back together. That I believe would be a good journey for Tiger Woods to take. Which brings me to a second consideration of our finding holiness in our lives at this time of year – the reality and meaning of darkness in our lives as we approach the darkest day of the year. When we think of the word “dark”, we often think of things that are negative, like a dark time, a dark mood or our dark side. Alas, there seems to be something about living in a time when light is disappearing that reflects our more negative, uncomfortable feelings. The celebration of Christmas is really a co-opted pagan holiday in which ancient people would celebrate the returning of the sun after winter solstice when it seemed to be slowly disappearing. It was a difficult time for those ancient people. Indeed, the winter months up until spring were called starvation months. And thus, there was a need to celebrate, knowing that in time the sun would return. We are now moving to the shortest day of the year and perhaps a part of us, an ancient primitive part of us may dread that the light will never return. And thus, the idea of light seems to reflect that which is beautiful and pure. The Quakers, who are members of the Society of Friends, like to say at their meetings when they are moved to talk about a loved one “we will hold this person in the light” meaning they will think good thoughts about someone who is hurting or in trouble and by holding them in the light, they are hoping and praying that the person will get well, find comfort and strength, or just survive. Inner Light, for Quakers, refers to God’s presence within a person, and to a direct and personal experience of God. Quakers believe that God speaks to everyone, and that in order to hear God’s voice, it helps to be still and actively listen for it. One of the things I enjoy about Quaker meeting is that people will from time to time receive the inner light and then get up to speak. I consider those talks to be little sermons, some of which are quite memorable for me. I like these sermons because they are heartfelt, simple and significantly, short. For many of us, if not most, this time is a dark time, a time that we have had a significant loss, of a loved one or of our jobs or of a relationship. What can we celebrate, we wonder, as we enter the darkest time of our year? Where is our star to follow, where is our Inner light? I believe that there is something to celebrate this time of year even in our time of darkness and cold. In my own life, I have faced darkness, depression, tragedy, confusion, and loss. But even during those long, cold nights of soul, I still held a faith that life was good and that there were important lessons to learn and adventures to be experienced. And the dark, winter nights would remind me of the elemental nature of life. Truly, there is beauty in the darkness and the cold. When the blinding light leaves us, we can see more clearly – just as when the daylight ends, we behold, a miracle, we can see the stars. Consider now, a poem by Robert Frost, perhaps his most famous poem: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy EveningThis is a winter solstice poem – “the darkest evening of the year.” The speaker in this poem is enchanted with the quiet and the snow and the darkness as he is drawn to stop and marvel at the beauty of it all. Now, the horse represents our rational selves, the part that wants to live and enjoy the relative warmth and mildness of weather within a barn and not to freeze to death. He gives a shake, that is a warning, to remind the speaker to wake up from his enchantment about the beauty of the cold and snow of – The only other sound’s the sweep/ Of easy wind and downy flake. The speaker tells us that The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but please here friends now notice the next word, but, But I have promises to keep, As if to say well the woods are lovely, I want to stay and enjoy my time here but But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. Ah the magic and plasticity of language that Frost repeats a phrase, but the meaning of each phrase changes. the first referring to the idea that he has miles to go before he gets home to go to sleep, that is a number of miles, a pedestrian kind of idea. But the repeat of that phrase gives a new, deeper, metaphoric meaning, of miles to go before I sleep. There are adventures, challenges, and yes tragedies awaiting, before I sleep one last time. Frost shows us the beauty of the darkness and the cold that inspires him to reflect on the meaning of his life. It is that darkness and coldness that inspire him. I cannot imagine such a beautiful sentiment expressed in a poem as, for example, about going to Hawaii for the winter vacation. I believe that this time of year is an opportunity for us to find peace and solitude, to discover ourselves in a way that perhaps the other seasons do not encourage us. One cold winter night, I suspect the temperature was close to zero Fahrenheit, I took my dog, Joyce for a walk. Joyce is a mutt. We got her from animal rescue because of my daughter Sarah when she lived with us some 10 years ago. Joyce is a nervous dog, who sometimes urinates when she shouldn’t, but I have learned that it is a common behavior called submissive urination, meaning that she is trying to show me that I am the boss. She doesn’t do that behavior any more, thank God. We got Joyce when we think she was about two, and I have often wondered if she were abused since she would overreact to my motions, such as when I picked up a newspaper, she would cower. But she seems calmer and more confident now. And I know that she means well. But one thing Joyce loves to do is to walk. And on this particular night, she hadn’t gotten out since no one wanted to go into the cold. So, we went out, Joyce and me – I think it was about 11 o’clock -- and I walked the street and came to the park where we always walked. The place was covered with snow and she hopped on the snow. That was amusing, but then I turned back to see the street scene. It was a sight to behold, quiet, dark in black and white, much like the picture on the front of the order of service. Nary a sound or another person or a car, just Joyce and me in a quiet winter wonderland. It made me feel peaceful inside. It reminded me of the elements, the essentials of life, of breath that I could see, of space, time and shapes, and companionship, for Joyce was indeed my companion. And she did not seem to mind the cold; indeed, she was glad to have someone walk her, but we did not stay long. For we both knew that we were ready to go to the warmth of hearth and home.
It is moments like these that help me to know myself better and trust myself. I know that no matter what life gives me, it will be an adventure, and I will be able to withstand the trials and tribulations. And I know I don’t have to fill my life with things and again things, but knowing that I have the time to live being present and aware. For I would have time to do so, as expressed so well in the words of Abbe Michel Quoist: Lord, I have time, I have plenty of time, All the time that you give me, |
| Sermon Copyright © 2009 Harold W. Beu |
