Reflections on the UU Source:  Wisdom from World Religions Part I (October 22, 2006  by Barbara Michael)

(Following the Taize community song in Singing the Journey #1034 De Noche)

. . . our thirst for knowledge . . . we hasten from the unknown to

that which is more understandable.  We are creatures of

curiosity . . . “Durst wird uns leuchten” . . . our thirst leads us

onward . . . and most of us, even though we value our independent

learning and our independence, many of us yearn for challenging,

yet comfortable, community where we can learn together.

Looking at the explosion of knowledge during the 20^th century,

Unitarian minister, Dr. Waldemar Argow, made this observation:

          . . . through minds and hearts that have opened in the

          revealing light that tolerance sheds, we finally understand

          [an] integrating truth that “religions are many, but

          religion is one.”

As scholars began studying comparative religions, they began to

see the oneness, the similarities of some of the most valued

tenets.  As an example of this universality, let me share with you,

seven versions of “The Golden Rule” from different faiths.

 The Universality of the Golden Rule in the World Religions

Our focal point print is from a mosaic which was created from Norman Rockwell’s “Golden Rule” painting.  The one before you, is a print of the large mosaic in the United Nations building in New York City . . . a visual connection for us this morning. 

As Nancy mentioned earlier in the service, this Tuesday is United Nations Day.  The 61^st anniversary of the day the Charter of the

United Nations went into effect - October 24, 1945.

This past week U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan brought together a group of distinguished cartoonists.  In his remarks he

said:

          I've always thought that cartoons are one of the most important elements in the press. They have a special role in forming public     opinion - because an image generally has a stronger, more direct impact on the brain than a sentence does, and because many more       people will look at a cartoon than read an article . . . cartoonists have a big influence on the way different groups of people look at each other. They can encourage us to look critically at ourselves, and increase our empathy for the sufferings and frustrations of others. But they can also do the opposite. They have, in short, a big responsibility.

- as do all who accept the responsibility to make the world a better place - including the children who will be going door-to-

door or in our own halls here next week collecting for UNICEF. 

When they call out “Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF,” remember that for just a few quarters, a child could be immunized against a

deadly disease - or 15 others given Oral Rehydration Salts where an unsafe water supply exists.  Just as when I was a little girl

collecting for UNICEF in the 1950‘s, today, every nickel counts - for it can save a child’s life.

As Unitarian Universalists we have an office at the United Nations.  The website is listed on the back of your order of

service if you want to:

- know their goals,

- understand in what work they are involved, or perhaps

- read an award-winning essay on peacemaking. 

Being peaceful and non-violent, another universal tenet.  Although it is not always practiced by those who espouse a particular

religion which, in that religion’s teachings, supports peace.  Some religions, such as Buddhism, emphasize inner peace, while others

emphasize being peaceful in their relationships.  Islam admonishes people to “Harm no one;” Judaism says “Thou shalt not kill;” and

Christianity tells us to love our neighbor.  If we practiced that which is essential in world Religion, perhaps “creeds would dissolve and souls would unite.” (Waldemar Argow)

Upon closing my reflections, you will hear Gary Stark sing an Arabic song of peace, Daoona Nayeesh.  The words mean: 

Let us live in peace.

Let us live in inner peace.

Let us weave our dreams together.

[and when we come to die,]  Let us die in peace.

Reflections on the UU Source:  Wisdom from World Religions Part II (October 22, 2006  by Nancy Irish)

When I was eighteen years old, I left the Methodist Church that had been a second home and family to me since birth.  I also left behind the Christian faith that had helped to mold and guide my mind and spirit during my formative years.  Despite all that was true and good about the religious experience of my childhood, I could not reconcile myself to the teaching that non-Christians would inevitably end up in Hell, whatever that was.  I was also sickened by the hypocrisy displayed by too many Christian adults.  Unaware of any good alternative, I walked out of  the church’s doors and threw away the baby with the bath water.  What I did not leave behind was what had always been my deepest desire as a Christian:  simply, to be a good person. 

Despite my “immaculate intentions” and many wonderful life experiences and relationships that followed, a quarter century later I found myself in a mental and spiritual crisis of the highest magnitude.  A series of conflicts and betrayals in my life all came to an ugly head at the same time, sending a shock wave to the core of my being.  I had lived my life based on a deep, even childlike level of trust in other people, and thus to lose trust in those closest to me was, for me, the greatest possible tragedy.  If I couldn’t trust those I trusted above all, who could I trust? 

I went silent, like a child who goes mute after witnessing her home burn to the ground with all her loved ones in it.  I shut the doors of my house and closed my psyche to the world outside my own skin, and spiraled downward into inner chaos.  I felt my heart break open and my mind shatter into a thousand irretrievable pieces as I faced a loss of trust in all adult humankind, including myself.  I no longer even  had confidence in my basic goodness.

Deep pain is a very effective motivator.  I was ready and willing to do anything necessary to resolve the agony I was in, including seeking answers to the hardest question: what in me contributed to the horrific chaos and destruction of my closest human relationships and circle of friends?  Having lost all faith in myself and those around me, I was surprised to discover that I yearned to tap into the one source of wisdom I felt I could trust:  sacred texts.  I asked my then husband to bring home whatever texts he could lay his hands on, from any spiritual tradition.  I began by reading the writings of the early Catholic mystics, including Meister Eckhart, Hildegard von Bingen, and Mechtild of Magdeburg (whom I fondly call Mechtild of Mouthful).  I went on to devour teachings of the Buddha, the Tao te Ching, the Sufi mystics, and the collective writings of Native American elders.  I spent a month of Sundays contemplating the wisdom symbolized in the yin yang.  I laid outside on the Mother Earth, under the Father Sun, seeking primal comfort. 

I eventually began to glean wisdom from more contemporary writers with diverse spiritual perspectives, such as Matthew Fox, Thomas Moore, Thich Nhat Hanh, Carolyn Myss, Henry David Nouwen, Scott Peck, and others.  I slowly gained priceless insight into my own mindset that had warped around a destructive parental relationship, and discovered my greatest illusion: that because my father didn’t love me, I was unlovable.  My fatal flaw, which I have come to believe is sadly common, was a lack of self love.  I was among those who should have been taught in Sunday school, “Love thyself as thy neighbor.”  I realized that I didn’t protect myself from harm…..that my unfilled human need for parental affirmation had resulted in an addiction to external approval.  That an addiction for external approval can lead to many variations of destructive behaviors, including self-compromise, grandiosity, and what the Buddhists might call grasping.  I began to see clearly my own contribution to chaos manifested in unhealthy human relationships.  To achieve that level of self-knowledge was very humbling, to say the least.

How, then, to live wisely in the human world, with compassion for myself as well as for others?  Native American wisdom taught me that I must be the guardian of my own spirit.  Buddhist teachings inspired me to let go of my expectations and my need to control the course of events, which I had often done in my need to prove my own worth.  Islamic teachings reminded me of the importance of generosity.  Carolyn Myss taught me that I must spend the energy of my spirit as wisely as I try to spend fossil fuel.  Saint John of the Cross reassured me with his words on the dark night of the soul that my experience was not unique.  The teachings of Christianity returned to me from childhood:   “Whatever you do to the least of these my brethren, you do unto me.”  “I lift up mine eyes unto the hills, whence commeth my strength.”

I ultimately came across my greatest guide and treasure:  The Perennial Philosophy, by Aldous Huxley.  In this anthology, he synthesizes the wisdom of world religions in the most intelligent manner I have yet encountered, illustrating what he called “the highest common factor.”  In a review of Huxley’s book, the New York Times wrote, “even an agnostic…can read this book with joy.  In each chapter he uses relevant readings from the various religions to address topics such as Self-Knowledge,  Solitude, Spiritual Exercises, and many others.

From his chapter on silence:

He who knows does not speak.

He who speaks does not know.   

                                         Lao Tzu

In talking about the noise of the “recent invention,” commercial radio, Huxley writes:

Broadcast advertising has but one purpose—to prevent the will from ever achieving silence.  Desirelessness is the condition of deliverance and illumination.  Advertising is the organized effort to extend and intensify craving…which is the principal cause of suffering and wrong-doing and the greatest obstacle between the human soul and its divine Ground.

A dog is not considered a good dog because he is a good barker.  A man is not considered a good man because he is a good talker.

                                                                                                                                                                      Chuang Tzu

If I chose to buried with one human artifact, I would choose my copy of  The Perennial Philosophy.

What I thought in the beginning might be a few days or weeks of solitude turned into what I eventually named my seven-year sabbatical from the world.  A Sabbath.  My Protestant work ethic took comfort in the Jewish teaching that rest is holy.  Through the teachings of the great religions I began to understand that I was on an age-old journey known by many names….disillusionment, rebirth, the short path, spiritual madness, breakthrough.  It was a fascinating, terrifying, and excruciating lonesome valley I had to walk through, alone, but I knew that the journey was a gift in painful packaging, and I did not feel sorry for myself.  If I felt sorry for anyone it was for my family, who had no choice but to endure the long darkness with me.

Slowly, slowly, step by step, new insight upon new insight, I began to reconstruct a world view and a mindset that was based in reality, and began reconnecting with the outer world in a new way.  Coming full cycle, it is the words of a Methodist, Huston Smith, a renowned authority on world religions, who best summarizes for me the essence of such a difficult but clarifying experience.  He asserts that the essence of the spiritual journey is about “becoming Real.”  In Buddhist terms, losing one’s illusions about self, others, and Life itself…..following that precarious and winding yin yang middle path through life that touches the dark and the light, embracing both, denying neither.  For it is when we attempt to remain always in the light that we fall into darkness, and when we head straight into the darkness that we can illuminate it with clarifying light.

Whatever darkness religion has brought to the world, I stand with those who have found in the deep essence of the great religions a source of illuminating light.  And so, how can I keep from singing?

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