“Considering Things of Worth” – January 22nd, 2023

READING:

Self Portrait, by David Whyte

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
Or many gods.
I want to know if you belong — or feel abandoned;
If you know despair
Or can see it in others.
I want to know
If you are prepared to live in the world
With its harsh need to change you;
If you can look back with firm eyes
Saying “this is where I stand.”
I want to know if you know how to melt
Into that fierce heat of living
Falling toward the center of your longing.
I want to know if you are willing
To live day by day
With the consequence of love
And the bitter unwanted passion
Of your sure defeat.
I have been told
In that fierce embrace
Even the gods
Speak of God.

SERMON:

“Considering Things of Worth”

I am the parent of two teenagers. I gave that a nice pause to see if what just happened, would happen. The mere mention of ‘teenager’…it does something to us.

I have found that a common response to “I have two teen-aged daughters” is a kind of carefully measured condolence, followed by some form of, “don’t worry, it gets better.” And I have appreciated this, trust me. For we need each other in this. We need the condolences and the hope.

Rearing teenagers takes strength and grit; attention and resilience. It for sure requires a sense of humor, otherwise you’re sunk. Many say that you need to have a thick skin…there have been days where only an impenetrable bunker feels like it will do.

Teenagers are the easy butt of jokes. And they have been typecast in literature, television, and film as the perpetually brooding, oblivious, rebellious, and totally unreasonable character. Rooted in, well, fact and…this is not ALL that they are.

And you don’t have to be a parent or caregiver to teenagers to relate to this. After all, you once were one! Less you have blotted it from your memories…

If you want to bridge divides between people simply ask them if they would like to go back and relive middle school or high school. Here’s something most can agree on: No thanks. I’ll pass.

Why is this? Why is this age so hard, to live through and to live with?

There has been an enormous amount of research and study in the field of neuroscience dedicated to this stage of development in recent years. With the remarkable technology of magnetic resonance imaging (MRIs), scientists are now able to produce detailed images of the brain in living humans. The mysteries of the distinctive teen brain and the brain of the early 20-something’s, with structures and behavior different from that of either child or adult, are gradually being revealed and understood. For example, did you know that brain imagery shows that physical danger, for teens, arouses less fear in the brain than self-consciousness? This has to do with what scientists are now calling ‘exuberant brain growth’ during adolescence which points to a highly exaggerated and astonishing neurological need for belonging over physical safety. Embarrassment literally feels life-endangering because it threatens relationships, a feeling of connection–belonging–to a group. That is the underlying terror beneath self-consciousness. Fascinating right? It explains why it is so many teens go to such painful, often dangerous, lengths to fit in. And why it is that our high and mighty lessons about ‘not caring what others think’ falls flat…every time.

There is a lot more to say about neuroscience and adolescence. And the massively wide spectrum of teen brains. We are not one size fits all and I am being painfully simplistic here.

But I want to stay with this ‘astonishing neurological need for relationships’ piece–like your life depends upon it. I want to stay with this.

Because while our brains do settle and calibrate, and we slowly, hopefully, evolve into more resilient, autonomous, and authentic beings–ones whose livelihoods and serenity are not hinged upon acceptance by others, at any cost, we are still, as human beings, reliant upon a sense of belonging and relationship. Our thriving depends upon it. This doesn’t just evaporate at 20-something. I would say that we are literally hard-wired for it.

As you know, I spend a lot of time thinking about words. Not just because I love to read and write, but because they help put my mind in sync, ordered with and around, meaning-making. Church helps with this. The spiritual life helps with this. Words take on a whole new shape and color here.

This space, for example, on days and nights where renters arrive to hold concerts or events: it’s a theater or a music hall. When we arrive here on Sundays, or on Vesper nights, it becomes our sanctuary–a place of holy peace and healing; a sacred shelter, sanctuary, where we bring our joys and our sorrows, our loneliness and our need for belonging.

And we place these objects–as we talked about earlier–symbols that are imbued with these needs–we place them on our altar, which only yesterday, was a table conveniently used to house brochures and programs for the recital that took place here. But today it is our altar– home to all that we hold most dear in our hearts and faith.

This whole area that I stand on just yesterday was the stage. But today, it is the chancel, which is a special word for the area beneath and surrounding…the altar. It literally revolves around it.

This set-up, what we place on the altar, what we hang on the walls of our sanctuary, the design of every object and its placement–all of it speaks to something important. For it tells you what  we as Unitarian Universalists, as spiritual pilgrims and companions, worship.

There’s another wonderful church word, worship, whose ancient etymological roots translate into, considering things of worth.  

What I love about this simple translation of an often-fraught word, is that it puts the ownness on us. Just what do we worship? What is of the greatest worth to us?

Hold that for a minute.

Church and temple architecture fascinates me for this very reason. The very design of these structures is theological in nature. What do you believe in that is bigger than you? Our Protestant and Puritan ancestors used to place the pulpit so high–front and center and way, way up there–because the preached word, inspired and brought to you by God, through the man–the minister–was what was worshipped. God and man. At the pulpit on high!

Have any of you been inside of Unity Church, just outside of Chicago? The famous Unitarian architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, designed that UU church. His father was a Universalist minister, and he identified with the humanists and transcendentalists of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. This was his theology, his belief system, and it mirrored the midwestern Unitarian churches’ theologies of its time.

When he was commissioned to design this church, he infused it with this theology. That’s what we do when we build these structures. Unity Church was a place, in his words, “to unite all beings as one with a divine presence.” So, it’s pews are set in the round, and the pulpit is on the same level as them. Even the materials used to build it, Wright said, would be organic in nature–untreated, imperfectly perfect. Just like us humans. He wrote: “Bring out the nature of the materials…let their nature intimately into your scheme. Reveal the nature of wood, plaster, brick, or stone in your designs, they are all by nature friendly and beautiful.” Just like us humans.

What do we worship?

We have already spent some time with our altar this morning–with our young ones. But I want to return to it for a moment. And return to what this space says about what we worship. What is of the greatest worth to us. Here.

And I would say that what this space says about what we worship, what our altar says about what we worship, is that it’s all about belonging. Relationships. Connection. To one another. A circle, literally and symbolically, that is trying to love big. And that Divinity is cultivated in these relationships, and this sense of belonging, just as we are.

I want to get back to a question I asked earlier. I asked why it was that so few of us would want to be a teenager again. And I also asked why that age is so hard to live with?

There are a lot of answers to these questions. But the one I am sitting with this morning is this:

For me, one the most painful and wondrous things about rearing teenagers, being in their presence and once being one, is the ever-present, teetering on the edge terrifying knowledge, that at any moment those circles of belonging can, and probably will, crumble. They are most often built on sand. One minute you’re in, and the next…your out. And for many, they–we–never were in. Not really. It’s a harsh world that our teens live in. And what heartbreak this is. To witness. To live through. To be in the presence of such tenuous belonging. What a tender and raw human truth and need to be faced with.

It is, at its core, the most tender and raw human truth and need. And being in its presence is the most painful of things, and the most wondrous. Because it cuts to the core–removes the armors we walk around wearing that trick us into believing that we need no one, slows our pace to a standstill, opens our eyes, breaks open our hearts to the root of the root of this thing called life: that our lives and livelihoods depend upon on belonging. Depend upon love.

And this kind of Love, yes, it is a dance. Feeling beloved for who we are and knowing ourselves as beloved. Finding our center–for this is our theme this month–is this dance with love. Inner, outer. Inner, outer. And it’s worth worshipping. This is some aged wisdom, am I right?

But the teenaged brain and experience has wisdom to offer as well: that our lives depend upon this love. For ourselves, and with and for one another. That our lives depend upon it. The stakes are HIGH.

And I hope you will consider some of this in the coming days and weeks. What you worship–what you consider as having the most worth in your life. Maybe you want to build an altar for it, so that you can see it/feel it every day. Ask yourselves, how did you come by it, how do you honor it, how do you neglect it? How do you articulate it? With words. How do you share it? How do you share in it? How do you, as Mary Oliver writes, stay attentive to it? Attentive to what we worship.

I so hope you will consider joining a Chalice Circle, you have until end of day tomorrow to register. Their very purpose is cultivating this kind of attentiveness. Witnessing, sharing, connection and belonging. These are the hopes of Small Group Ministry. Inner/outer.

I hope you will make this a priority; like your life depends on it. It does.

And in close, let’s return to David Whyte’s beautiful words again. They capture all of this so well.

Self Portrait

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
Or many gods.
I want to know if you belong — or feel abandoned;
If you know despair
Or can see it in others.
I want to know
If you are prepared to live in the world
With its harsh need to change you;
If you can look back with firm eyes
Saying “this is where I stand.”
I want to know if you know how to melt
Into that fierce heat of living
Falling toward the center of your longing.
I want to know if you are willing
To live day by day
With the consequence of love
And the bitter unwanted passion
Of your sure defeat.
I have been told
In that fierce embrace
Even the gods
Speak of God.

Blessed be.

And now, let’s Sing Out Praises for the Journey–for dear ones we are in this together: Hymn No. 295 “Sing Out Praises for the Journey”