A Unitarian Universalist died, and to his surprise
discovered that there was indeed an afterlife. The angel in charge of these
things told him, “Because you were an unbeliever and a doubter and a skeptic,
you will be sent to Hell for all eternity — which, in your case, consists of a
place where no one will disagree with you ever again!”
My first career prior to the ministry allowed me to
work with families and children and adults with developmental and emotional
disabilities. I’ve figured that this work, coupled with ministry, has allowed
me to have been in thousands of homes to provide support, services, and
pastoral care. One of them stands out in
my mind.
I received a phone call from a congregant asking me
to visit her and her husband for pastoral counseling. Naturally I agreed. The next day when I arrived at their home I
was surprised but not deterred. I had to
park three houses down on the side of the street because the driveway that had
been dismantled the summer before was left in piles of soil and stone with the
sprinkling of tools one might use to dismantle a driveway. And so I went to
their house. I struggled to reach the doorbell because, well, I couldn’t reach
it. There were two steps missing between the highest and lowest steps. So I
literally crawled up on the first step, stood up, and knocked on the door. The
doorbell wasn’t working. No worries. I was soon inside.
I was led into the living room and had taken a
seat. Immediately Sara burst into tears. As I helped her gather herself she
explained that she was embarrassed and ashamed. Her home had been in disrepair
for at least 18 months and she didn’t see a way out of the situation. I looked
around and she was right. The floors had no coverings they were simply large
sheets of floorboards. The ceilings were crumbling with evidence of new
electrical wires being installed. I could see pink tufts of insulation peek out
from everywhere floor to ceiling. The window I was sitting next to, a large bay
window, was rattling. It had been placed but secured only with a few nails
holding it in place. I could go on but by now you get the picture.
I asked Sara if her husband, David, would be
joining us and she said that he wouldn’t because he was out helping another
congregant complete the finishing work on an addition they had added to their
home. Interesting I thought. I asked Sara how David had made his living.
Astonishingly she replied “He’s a contractor.” She again burst into tears.
Sara had been living like this for quite some time.
She explained how her marriage was deeply affected by David’s decision to reach
out to others to voluntarily help with their contracting needs when his home
was falling down around them. Sara and David had the resources, and David had
the skills to complete the work. However, David was turning his attention
outward and neglecting the needs of his wife, his marriage, and his home.
David
was what he needed most, a skilled contractor who loved to help and support
others. David didn’t understand that he and Sara needed just that. A skilled
carpenter willing to help and support his own family. We are what we need most.
Let me make this concept a little more personal.
I’d like to use myself as an example. One of the most deeply satisfying parts
of ministry for me is pastoral care. That is, time spent caring for each of
you. Its important to me as your minister that you feel cared for, able to
reach out if you need, and learn ways to care for yourself. But here is the
rub. I struggle with self care. I’m not careful to schedule time away from the
congregation to spend time on myself and my family. Extra pounds have been
creeping up on me and I’ve neglected to stick to my commitment to making
healthier lifestyle choices.
You see while I have the ability and skill and
passion for caring for others I’ve realized that none of this self care and
compassion is being turned toward myself. Now this isn’t simply about me doing
too much. I can actually care for the congregation and myself. I just need to
do it. I need to believe that I deserve
the same care I give the congregation. We are what we need most.
So we’ve looked at the concept of who we are what
we need most as a family system, as an individual. So let’s look at what this
system may mean when we apply it to our congregation. A major part of our
identity as a congregation is our
willingness to reach beyond ourselves and into the community and our world and
offer love, compassion, meaningful connections and help to ease suffering, and
advocacy to transform broken systems. People will say we are not where we would
like to be in this area but it is something that the congregation does well
knowing that our justice work will never be quite finished. So imagine
yourselves standing in a circle along the walls of this sanctuary.
Now imagine yourselves facing outward. This is the
place that congregation now stands. You see, the healing, the justice, the
advocacy, the relational work is facing outward. An excellent image is one that
graces our weekly newsletter the eBeacon. A beam of light rising through the
skylight and focused away from this place.
Focused away from this place. What would it be like if you accepted my
invitation to remain standing in that circle but you turned around and faced
inward? Imagine looking around and seeing faces that you have loved and
befriended for decades. Imagine seeing
faces that have just arrived this morning. Imagine the real need that each of
these faces hold to be loved, accepted, understood, supported. Imagine that in
this circle your needs are not the only needs, your projects and ministry are
not the only important projects and ministries. Imagine that in this circle
your theology has its place but you need to make room for the theology of
others. Imagine directing the light from the skylight inward. We are what we
need most.
Taoist philosopher Lao Tzu writes in the Tao Te
Ching :
Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the
source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.
If we are not compassionate toward ourselves and
one another as a congregation we aren’t able to send anything through our
skylight let alone justice and freedom of thought.
So what is behind being able to give freely and
without reservation that which we need most for David, Sara, this congregation
and myself? I spent part of a week in Minneapolis
last month reflecting on this very question. Sometimes we are afraid to look
inward and so we move to giving outwardly. Sometimes our self worth takes a
backseat so that we may direct our attention and deeds in making the worth of
everyone around us rise.
Offering ourselves the same consideration,
compassion and concern can be quite difficult. Self-care remains a challenge
for many of us, personally and professionally. It is one thing to know, it is
another to do. The reality is that many of us struggle with conflicts and
deterrents to our own self-care.
Self-care is different from selfishness,
self-absorption, or self-indulgence. In fact self-preoccupation is more likely
to occur as a result of inadequate self-care over time. Fitting
self-consideration is a manifestation of a healthy respect for one's self and
for others.
Becoming more self-aware is not necessarily easy or
pleasant for us. The process may be elusive and conflictual. It involves
becoming conscious of, and grappling with, confusing and painful internal
conflicts and tensions existing between different kinds and levels of needs and
desires.
Acknowledging unmet hungers may be anxiety-provoking. Yet awareness is
crucial in the process of managing emotions in a manner acceptable to the self.
Without awareness, unprocessed feelings are at risk of being acted out,
potentially in very costly ways for ourselves, our congregation, our community.
There is an old story that tells of a little boy who is having a difficult time
trying to lift a heavy stone. His father comes along and seeing him trying and
failing to lift the stone asks him are you using all of your strength? The boy
looks at him impatiently and says of course I am. No you are not responds the
father. I am right here waiting and you haven’t asked me to help you. What if our strength was measured not by what we can do
alone but by what we can do together? How might that change our idea of caring
and being cared for?
So lets follow up on all that I have mentioned this
morning. Sara and David continue to be married and their home as Sara puts it
“is complete in many ways.” It took a lot of self examination for David to turn
toward his wife and his home and realize that he could continue to helps others
as well as maintain his own home. He shouldn’t choose one or the other.
As for me. I’ve been busy cleaning my own back
yard. I have been accepted into a wellness program sponsored by Duke University
which is piloting a self-care program for Unitarian Universalist ministers.
There are only 20 of us in the program from around the country. I don’t need to
choose the health of the congregation over my own and do not need to become so
self obsessed that I do not care for the congregation. I can do both. I have
decided that I will be healthier as a result of our ministry.
Now for the congregation. I raise this concept of
being what we need most for a reason. Did someone just hear an elephant? It
would be irresponsible as your minister not to ask you to consider what it is
we truly need as a congregation in terms of relationship and walking together.
Certainly all of our energy, compassion, and understanding cannot bring us
closer to beloved community if we direct it in one direction. We are a
congregation that loves and heals. What do we need most? We need to turn at
least sideways and direct love and healing into this house. Clean our own
backyard. We need the compassion that is directed outward and spend more time
and energy filling this house. We are what we need. We are a strong, capable,
committed, and loving bunch. We need some of those same things. We can do and
have both. The love and excitement we share outside can also be shared
inside.
May we consider how we relate to one another in
this house. May we bring back the joy, celebration, and the plain old fun back
into this house. May we offer this congregation light. May this light continue
to shine in and around us.
May it be so.
We Are What
We Need Most, a sermon delivered by the Rev. CJ McGregor at 1stUUPB, Sep 8,
2013.
No comments:
Post a Comment