|
By John T. Crestwell, Jr.
May 30, 2004
Thank you Sharon. I am always moved by the words of that great
spiritual. “Motherless Child” is indeed, my all time favorite. For
it speaks to that inner cry we all have to feel complete; our deep
desire to have peace of mind and body. We all want to feel whole. We
all want to believe that life has meaning. You know, life can be
very lonely at times. And when I think, particularly, about our
soldiers, I can understand if many of them, who sit at deaths door,
feel life is meaningless. Many, I am sure, feel that what they are
doing is nonsensical. And I’m sure there are others who take great
pride in what they are doing too…
I’m not here this morning to discuss the war on this Sunday leading
into Memorial Day. Rather, I am wrestling with this issue of finding
worth and meaning in life. It was not that long ago, and many of you
know this, when I wondered if life had any meaning or purpose. And
there are days even still, when I look at many of the tragedies and
calamities of life that I still wonder… When I was a Christian I
didn’t worry as much. That’s the truth. The answers were right there
for me for the taking. The mystery was solved. The puzzle was
already put together. But something I cannot explain called me to
search deeper and to ask myself those complex existential questions
that only lead to more questions...
One of my new favorite poems you’ve heard before is - By Guillaume
Apollinaire, called, Come to the edge. It goes, “COME TO THE EDGE.
(the answer comes back) We are afraid. Come to the edge. (they
answer) You’ll push us. Come to the edge. They came to the edge. He
pushed them. They flew!”
The poem speaks to that almost schizophrenic conversation we have
with ourselves; that conversation that calls us to challenge the
status quo in our minds—to ask those questions—to search in places
most aren’t willing to go. We go to that edge. And some of us get
brave and we jump off and free fall into that great unknown. There
aren’t many answers there, just more questions… And so, in a way,
ignorance is bliss. Once you step outside of that box you really
can’t go back. Once your eyes are opened, you cannot shut them
again. How do you find meaning and purpose when your eyes are opened
to a new reality?
We have to go back a little and look at the evolution of the human
species. A. Powell Davies helped us with that with the reading this
morning. Davies, in substance, said that humanity created its gods
and goddesses out of the fear of the unknown. The gods represented
protection. Early men and women bowed down to these images, giving
them life, and then created sophisticated systems based in
superstition, but it supported their needs. The institutional church
is one of the sophisticated systems that came into being as a
result.
Over the years, science has moved our society into what many define
as a culture of disbelief as we have, decade after decade, come to
see that our ideas of existence are being disproved one by one. The
ancient religious myths that held our culture together are
dismantling. Now greater mysteries are being discovered, but the
problem is the culture still follows stories from a time that no
longer exists, and there aren’t many new stories that guide us
spiritually—stories that give this new generation of humanity
meaning and purpose. To sum it up, modern humanity’s theology has
not caught up with its technology, and as a result, we have rituals,
ideas, and rites of passage that do not speak to our time and place.
And so, we shun creeds and religious rituals and say they are
meaningless. We cannot fully relate to the ancient stories…
Now, we have a choice, either we must find new meanings in ancient
legends and myths or find new modern myths for our post-modern
civilization. I’m reminded of the words of Daniel Quinn in his book
Ishmael, “You can’t just root out a complex of ideas and leave a
void behind; you have to give people something that is as meaningful
as what they’ve lost.”
It is obvious to me when you look at a very secular America, that we
live in a world that is becoming more and more meaningless. The
drive of capitalism with its survival of the fittest mentality,
which has led to a sort of rugged individualism, will not be the
answer we are looking for. Pharmaceuticals are cashing in on our
prescription drug culture. As we go through this difficult
transition as humans from antiquity to modernity, many seek relief
for their depression and anxiety by medicating the pain away.
The answer for us this morning, and perhaps even A. Powell Davies
missed this point, lies in the fact that we have to understand that
we are not fully removed from what we might call “primitive
humankind.” We are connected as human beings to Homo Erectus and to
the original Homo Sapiens. Yes, we share their apprehensions. We
share their fears. We may be an advanced species but the mortal
fears of life are still within us. We may not create gods. We may
not dance around the fire. We may not go into a trance and prophecy
about the future. We may not smoke the peace pipe… Well, some of you
may have in the 60’s (smile). We may not do that tribal stuff, but
we all still share a kindred human spirit with early evolving
humankind. We want the questions, “Why am I here?” and “What happens
to me when it’s over?” answered.
The sermon is titled “Rites of Passage” and what I mean by the words
is that we must pass from the need to have a set system of beliefs
based in fear, to a belief system based on fulfilling human
sociological and psychological needs. Now, I don’t mean to sound so
philosophical today… Well, who am I kidding, I’m Unitarian
Universalist, philosophy is what we do. But anyhow, there is a
difference in the ancient belief system and the modern belief
system. The former was based in superstition, sort of believe or
else mentality to protect the fragile human psyche, and the latter
should be based in the basic understanding that humans need
community to protect the fragile human psyche. One means well, but
it forces communal relationships through fear, the other asks that
we spend time together because, quite simply, we need each other. It
is no secret that humans are pack animals and need community so that
we can express our individuality.
I remember talking to Sharon’s dad after the loss of his wife,
Sharon’s mom, to breast cancer. About a year after the loss, my
father-in-law said to me that he needed a new person in his life
because he didn’t have anyone to tell his stories too. As trivial as
it sounds, he had lived 32 years going home to someone. Now he felt
a deep void in his life. He was not accustomed to living alone like
some of us. He needed someone. And so it is, when we break bread
together, that is community and is vital. You see community is
fellowship like we do so well here at Davies. Community is having
people you can rely on in times of trouble. Community means you/we
are not alone and need not be afraid of living. Where two or more
are gathered together, there is community!
Do you remember the movie “Castaway” with Tom Hanks? The FEDEX plane
crashed leaving Hanks’s character as the lone survivor. He lived for
many years eating— I think it was coconuts and crabs. He got real
lonely you could imagine. He was on the brink of losing his mind. He
needed an outlet to express his humanity, his emotions, and
frustrations. So, he finds a soccer ball made by the Wilson Company.
The ball was a part of the wreckage from the crash. Over time, he
names the ball Wilson. By naming it, he sort of breathed life into
the ball. Their relationship developed and he talked to this ball
like I’m talking to you right now. The ball was his best friend. He
took it everywhere he went. That ball became his salvation. It was
his community.
On his way from the island, attempting a daring escape to get home,
he loses the ball in the rough seas. As the ball floats away he
cries out in agony, “Wilson”. “Wilson”. “Wilson”. It was a deep cry.
If you’ve seen the movie, this was one of the most dramatic parts.
The agony was some of the deepest you’ll ever see portrayed. Hanks’
character mourned the loss of the ball as if he had lost the most
precious thing he had. In fact he did lose the most precious thing
he had… The movie shows us that humans need community.
So, when I think about our church, it is very important to know that
we are not alone. Some of you are married and have each other but
you still need an outlet to share with others. If you have children,
this church becomes a place where you and they can be nurtured and
guided through your varying stages of life. And if you are single,
this church is an outlet for you to find individuals or groups of
people who share common interests and hobbies. There’s no reason any
of us should feel alone!
Another point is that it’s great to know there are others like me
who are “seekers”. It is nice to know that here, in this place,
there are 130 or so folk who understand what it’s like to wrestle
with the existential questions. I thought I was alone when I walked
away from my traditional religious roots. I was quite depressed and
didn’t think there was anybody else out there, except my sympathetic
and biased wife, who viewed life the way I did. Or perhaps she was
just being a supportive spouse J. You get to that point where you
start thinking, “Maybe there is something wrong with me.” Trust me,
I DID NOT WANT TO BE THAT SPECIAL! I had a sociological and
psychological need and this church filled it. I fully embraced what
I saw and felt in this place.
As I conclude, it is important to understand that community is only
as good as we allow it to be. What do I mean? Well, we are free to
express our individuality—this is true. And we can come and go as we
please. Church is not forced upon us. We don’t live with the fear of
damnation over our heads. This is great, but I think sometimes our
rugged individuality pushes us away into our little private corners,
onto our deserted islands where we spend far too much time alone. We
need each other. We should spend more time together. My suggestion
is that we have to fully embrace this community and not be afraid to
be absorbed by it, so that we can feel the true impact this church
can have on our lives.
Rites of passage essentially mean, for me, that this church is here
for you through all of your stages of life. You don’t have to feel
as if you are a motherless child. You—WE are not alone. For where
two or more are gathered, there is community in their midst. Thank
you for being a part of my life. Thank you ALL for giving my
existence meaning and purpose. And thank you for your time this
morning.
|
