Page 12 of 12
Who Lays Claim to Your Heart? Cathy Rion
8/21/11 Sermon
Unitarian Universalist ministers from throughout our District – from Alaska to Oregon – gather twice a year for a retreat. I still haven’t figured why it’s called a retreat, since the two I’ve been to so far aren’t all that restful, with programming from early morning until late in the evening!
This spring, our program was called “Whose Are We,” a series of guided conversations for spiritual deepening. Districts across the country are participating in this program as a way of enhancing our understanding of who we belong to, whose lives are bound up with ours, and a way of renewing and sharing our sense of call. It was a weekend of rich connection to one another, to our calling, and to that which is holy.
We began with the question “Who or what lays claim to your heart?” What is it that won’t let go of you? Through the intentional process, my small group quickly came to a place of sacred listening. These are not questions with clear answers to list out plainly in bullet points. They’re answers that rise from the heart. Bearing witness to each other was as important as the content of our personal reflection.
My colleagues asked me, “Who or what lays claim to your heart?” “My family.” I answered. “We bear witness,” my colleagues said. “Who or what lays claim to your heart?” They asked me again. After a pause, I replied: “Oceans, waves, and running rivers,” “We bear witness.” They said. “Who or what lays claim to your heart?”
We continued… I named my partner Heather, close friends, this congregation. I named my hunger for justice in this aching world. I named those things that feed my spirit: beauty, Unitarian Universalism, that Love which is greater than all things and pulsing in everything.
"We bear witness.” "We bear witness.” "We bear witness.” I heard their voices affirm again and again.
Even now, as I recall those moments several months ago, my breath deepens – my body remembers that sacred, deep well that we entered together – witnessing each other reflect on that which is most important.
Who or what lays claim to your heart?
Your children? Your parents? God? The trees? A neighbor? Your pets? …We bear witness here, to that which matters most.
I have seen you lay claim to each other’s hearts. Here, we bear witness to the struggles and joys of life.
When a lay minister meets with a congregant, when we go on a retreat together, when you rehearse with the choir, when you reach out for help because you’re struggling. These are just some of the ways I have witnessed that this congregation lays claim to your hearts.
Last September when I joined you, I was a bright eyed and bushy tailed – yet tentative –new intern minister. I couldn’t even find my way from the office to the sanctuary! I didn’t know you or trust you.
You did not yet lay claim to my heart. That’s natural in a new relationship. (Some of you who are new here may feel similarly—still tentative, not well connected.) But as I got to know you and your stories; as I preached and taught and listened and sang; as I learned from Tom, Bill, Kate, the staff, and my intern committee; my heart opened and I became a part of you.
We encourage newcomers to take a class or volunteer because otherwise this large congregation can be overwhelming, and lonely, even. It is possible to be a part of this congregation without it making a claim on you, or you on it.
To bind our hearts together requires knowing one another, truly and authentically. It means letting go of the need to be perfect and being willing to let others see your wounds and imperfections as well as our strengths and beauty. It means being vulnerable with one another.
Back in February, I spent a weekend with our Lay Ministers – a team among you who extend the reach of pastoral care beyond what the ministers on staff are able to provide. I led the group in a prayer exercise– where each person prayed for another. First, we spent a few minutes in pairs sharing something troubling our hearts. Then the listener shared a spoken prayer specifically about the concern their partner had talked about. For many of our Lay ministers, this was a highlight of the weekend because it took them to a new place of spiritual depth and sharing.
It took courage to risk sharing something they were struggling with, to try offering an extemporaneous prayer, trusting each other enough to enter the intimacy of personal prayer together. The goal was not to say an elegant and perfect prayer, but to pray authentically from the heart; to bear witness to each other in that moment.
Spiritual journeys and practices can be awkward like this. Many of the speakers were nervous, and their prayers rambled or had funky grammar, but it didn’t matter because they were authentic expressions of our shared faith.
At times I worry that we have such a strong culture of excellence here that we don’t allow ourselves to experiment and try new things that may deepen our faith and connection to each other.
What if we, here, strove not for perfection, but for authenticity? To lay claim on one another is to show up as ourselves. We are not perfect. What is church, if not a place to practice being human and make mistakes? What if we, here, strove to be simply good enough more often?
To lay claim on another’s heart is partially a relationship of accountability and responsibility. You rightfully expect me to show up when I’m scheduled to preach and you expect a sermon that feeds your spirit and makes you think. And I expect you to follow through with your commitments to help make the church run, to support the congregation financially and energetically, and to rely on the congregation when you need support, to turn to one another for inspiration, solidarity, kindness. And when we falter, we assess what went wrong and find our way to forgiveness.
But heart connection is about more than accountability. It’s about a feeling in your gut that says “I’m home” – that comfortable place where you can relax and be yourself. A place where you breathe a sigh of relief upon entering – knowing that this place is not perfect, but it is your spiritual and religious home.
For me, this happens through relationships and rituals. When I put out a call in December to share personal experiences of abortion, stillbirth, and infertility, I was stunned how quickly more than a dozen of you responded – sharing your stories of painful decisions and losses.
I had the privilege of getting to know four courageous women who agreed to share their stories in the Healing Service for Reproductive Loss that I led in January. These women found healing in the process of preparing for and leading that service. I am amazed at their courage and vulnerability, and still grateful for the space they helped create for the dozens of women and men who came to the service. Reproductive loss is a silent grief that touches so many of us.
It took courage and strength to attend that service and open to feelings that were safely locked away deep in your hearts. It takes trusting each other, and trusting this community, to find a path toward healing together.
I encourage you to find our congregational covenant on the website if you haven’t read it recently – or ever. It “encourages [members and friends of First Church] to bring our best selves to our relationships with one another and to grow in spirit by deepening our connections with each other… Through [our covenant] we serve others in accordance with our principles. [it concludes] Together we pledge to revisit and renew our promises to foster our spiritual growth and sustain the vitality of our congregation and its larger mission in the world.”
A covenant is a promise. A commitment to each other to walk together, to be with one another, and to wrestle with the holy together. This is what those who came to the Healing Service on reproductive loss did.
A covenant is a commitment bear witness to one another’s grief and joy, a commitment to serve on committees and calm crying babies.
Our covenant, among all those gathered here I hope, is to lay claim on each others’ hearts. To call each other back to what really matters when the distractions of technology or grocery shopping, the stock market or homework, get in the way.
Let's take the time and try to find,
what real life has to offer. [goes Piglet’s song]
And maybe then we'll find again,
what we had long forgotten.
Like a friend, true 'til the end,
it will help us onward.
In the original Tolstoy story of The Three Questions, that we heard a children’s version of earlier, the seeker is not a little boy, but the King. Disguised as a peasant, the king goes in search of a wise hermit to answer the three questions – while there, he tends to a wounded man who happens upon them. When the man wakes the next morning, he asks the King for forgiveness.
“I do not know you, and have nothing to forgive you for," [says] the King.
[The man replies,] "You do not know me, but I know you. I am an enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you, because you executed [my] brother and seized [my] property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, and they recognized me, and wounded me. I escaped from them, but [I would] have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and you have saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish it, I will serve you as your most faithful slave, and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!"
The King was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily, and to have gained him for a friend, and [the king] not only forgave [the man], but said he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and promised to restore his property.”[i]
The call of covenant is to keep coming together. To open our hearts with compassion, love and forgiveness again and again and again. To treat all those we encounter with great kindness. Now, I certainly hope that we here will not resort to feuds and killing! But we all make mistakes that hurt others, often unintentionally. And we all, I believe, seek to live our lives with integrity. We seek answers to the King’s questions.
Covenantal community holds us while we ask ourselves these three essential and timeless questions - “When is the best time to do things? Who is the most important one? What is the right thing to do?”
These are fundamentally religious questions. We come together on Sunday mornings and throughout the week to discern how to live well, and how to come back together when we falter.
We don’t need to have the same answers to these questions. But we do need to explore them deeply and share with each other. We honor a “free and responsible search for truth and meaning,” as the 4th Unitarian Universalist principle states.
Unlike Christianity and some other religious traditions, Unitarian Universalism is not primarily about what you believe, but about how we are in the world – it’s relational.
When you light one of the candles in the galleries, your hope or prayer does not go into a nether-nether land. Your prayer will not be answered contingent on your belief in a particular kind of God or no God. Instead, your written notes and prayers are collected by one of our dedicated lay minister members and shared confidentially with the rest of the lay and called ministers. Many of us hold your joys and sorrows in our daily practices – from yoga to meditation to prayer.
This is how we are together – connected, sharing, supporting. Challenging, learning, questioning. Always in covenantal community. Never alone – even when you feel isolated.
As I leave you to go serve in Hood River, collegial guidelines mandate that I be out of touch for a period of time to make space for the next Intern to become one of your ministers.
I leave you with filled with gratitude. You have opened my heart. You have witnessed and supported my development as a new minister. You DO lay claim to my heart. We remain connected.
Leo the turtle says: “There is only one important time, and that time is now. The most important one is always the one you are with. And the most important thing is to do good for the one who is standing at your side.” “This is why we are here.” He says. To be here, Now. With each other. To do good.
We have done much good together this year. And you will continue doing your best to live your lives well, coming to worship together to be reminded of that which matters most.
Remember who and what lays claim to your heart – that is the source of your strength and support.
Keep turning to that which feeds you and holds you as you ask important questions.
Keep opening your hearts to each other and to those in need within and beyond our walls.
May your heart always be open.
Blessed be and Amen.
Prayer:
Spirit of life and love, dear God,
We are grateful for this time together.
Grateful for this covenanted community.
Let us keep asking questions about what matters most
Let us find the answers together
May each of our hearts be bound to others as we seek to lead lives of integrity as we go on our way
May it be so
Benediction
Let us go, remembering this time together, this touchstone to that which really matters.
Let us go, remembering what lays claim to our hearts.
Let us go, remembering, and grateful, that we are alive.
Let us go, each on our own and always also together, finding our way.
PDX-whose are we5.doc, 10/6/11
p. 12 of 12
[i] The Three Questions, Leo Tolstoy, from http://www.online-literature.com/tolstoy/2736/