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PAST SERMONS
"Born Again... and Again... and Again"
A sermon delivered to the General Assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations | Fort Worth, Texas | June 26, 2005
And at All Souls Church, Unitarian | August 21, 2005
Rev. Robert M. Hardies, senior minister
READING
Our reading this morning is one of the legends told of the Desert Fathers, a band of monks who, in the 3rd century, wandered the desert in search of God. The stories told about the Desert Fathers are a little bit like Zen koans. They don't give easy answers, but invite reflection. Let us, then, reflect on this story:
One day Abbot Lot came to his teacher, Abbot Joseph, and said, "Father, as best as I am able, I keep my little fast, my little rule, my little prayer. But it's not enough. And father, as best as I am able, I keep my meditation and my contemplative silence and I strive to cleanse my heart of all unnecessary desires. But it's not enough. I still haven't found what I seek. Father, what shall I do?
In reply, Abbot Joseph, the Elder, rose up and stretched out his hands to the heavens and his fingers became like ten burning lamps and he said "Why not be totally changed into fire?"
Here ends our reading.
SERMON
I wonder how many of us can relate to Abbot Lot, the befuddled monk in our story? I know I can. I can relate to his frustration. You see, he's been working at the spiritual life for years, now, praying and meditating, trying out all the practices that folks have taught him...but to no avail. Something's still missing. He still hasn't discovered any answers to the questions that, in quiet moments, make him tremble: Why am I here? What is my purpose? He still hasn't found whatever it is that will fill that empty place inside of him. The place that just longs and longs and longs to be filled. I can relate to Abbot Lot.
And I see him. I see him in the faces of the people who pass through my congregation. Seekers who've been dabbling in the spiritual life for a while now. Trying this and that: you know, a little yoga on Thursdays after work, maybe church on Sunday, the latest bestseller from Thich Nhat Hanh on their bedstand. Searching. But not finding. In our story, Abbot Lot takes his frustration to his teacher and says, "Master, I've tried everything you taught me, and still it's not enough. What more can I do?"
Now here's where the story gets a little strange. Because instead of telling Abbot Lot to be patient, togive it a little more time, or to trade in his yoga mat for a Buddhist meditation pillow. Instead of that, his teacher stretches his hands up to the heavens. And each of his fingertips bursts into flames. And he says, "Why not be totally changed into fire?"
Friends, this morning I'd like us to consider what it would mean for us - for you - to be changed into fire.
Let me tell you a story. Many Unitarian Universalists are familiar with the name, James Reeb. Reeb was the Unitarian minister who, in March of 1965, heeded Dr. King's call for ministers to join him at a march in Selma, Alabama. Reeb went to Selma, and on the night of the march he was bludgeoned to death by 4 white segregationists. His brutal murder prompted President Johnson to sign the Civil Rights Act of 1965. This year marks the 40th anniversary of that landmark legislation and of Reeb's martyrdom.
Now, whenever I hear about someone like James Reeb, I always want to know, what's their story? You know, what kind of faith leads a person to such a sacrifice? Reeb's faith journey was an interesting one. It turns out he grew up a conservative Christian, a pretty severe Calvinist. In fact, when he was a student at Princeton Seminary Reeb once handed in a paper called, "The Wrath of God" in which he wrote with downright gusto about God's judgment upon a sinful and depraved humanity.
A few years later, though, Reeb found himself the chaplain at Philadelphia's General Hospital where his patients were the poor and indigent of the city, many of them addicts. There, he had a crisis of faith. You see, his theology told him that these folks deserved their suffering, that it was God's just punishment for their sin. But another voice inside Reeb that told him something different. It said, " These are your brothers and sisters who deserve your love and compassion." And there, in a hospital room in Philly, Reeb experienced what can only be described as a conversion. A generous and loving Spirit entered into him and melted his cold Calvinist heart. Suddenly, he realized that any God worth worshipping was a God who heaped mercy and love upon those who suffered, not judgment and scorn. During this time, Reeb wrote something telling in his journal, he wrote: "When the moralist in you dies, then life begins."
This was the turning point for Jim Reeb. The moment after which his life would never be the same. The moment when he was gripped by a and commanding and transforming Love that would not let him go. That led him to a life ministering to the poor of America's cities and, eventually, to the streets of Selma, Alabama.
THIS, I think, is what Abbot Joseph was talking about when he said, "Why not be totally changed into fire." He was saying to Abbot Lot, "all your dabbling in the spiritual life will go for naught until you give your whole life over to Love. Only a commanding and transforming Love can answer the question: Why am I here? Only a commanding and transforming Love can fill that empty place inside that longs and longs and longs.
We live in a culture that is enamored with the notion of spiritual growth. An entire industry floods the market with books and props and prayers that promise to enlighten us. But there's something missing from this culture. There's a secret that the gurus of growth aren't telling us. And it's the secret that Abbot Joseph revealed to Abbot Lot: that the spiritual life isn't about dabbling here and there. It's about giving your whole life over to Love. Abbot Joseph called it being changed into fire. Jim Reeb described it differently. Remember what he wrote in that journal: "When the moralist in you dies," he said, "then life begins." Jim Reeb was talking about being born again.
Now let me pause here and acknowledge that that phrase, "Born Again" makes some of us cringe, right? So often it comes with a theological and -- increasingly -- political agenda that religious liberals find untenable. Some on the religious left have voiced their displeasure with the idea of being "born again" with a bumper sticker I saw recently. The bumper sticker said: "Born Right the First Time!"
It's a good line, isn't it? And it does speak to something central to Unitarian Universalism, our belief that human beings are fundamentally good creations. But after I thought about it for a while, "born right the first time" struck me as, at best, naive. And at worst: arrogant. As if to say, "Maybe you need to be born again. But I've got it all figured out. I'm alright just as I am." The truth is, I don't know anyone who feels that way. Who, deep down, doesn't yearn for something MORE in their lives? I don't know anyone who, if they are honest with themselves, does not say "I wish I could love better. Bigger. More generously than I do today.
On the other hand, I'm not satisfied with the notion of being "born again," either. Because it suggests that religious transformation is, somehow, a once in a lifetime event. You know, "I'm born again. I'm saved. Now I'm all set." My own position is probably best summed up by the Unitarian poet, e.e. cummings, who once wrote, "we can never be born enough." We can never be born enough. To live in this world, we must ALWAYS be prepared to be born again in love. Always prepared to be shaken out of our complacency and small-heartedness and plunged into the bracing waters of life. Re-baptized in love. We can never be born enough.
Think about it for a moment. Isn't life ALWAYS calling us to rebirth? When a loved one dies and we find the strength to continue on, we are born again. When we come out of the closet as gay or lesbian and embrace a new identity, we are born again. When it feels like we're down to our last broken heart, yet somehow we find a way to love once more, we are born again. When our hearts, that have been hardened to the suffering of the world, burst open in compassion, we are born again. With each re-birth that commanding and transforming Love takes hold of our heart -- our battered old heart -- and stretches it further than we thought it could stretch. This is the spiritual transformation that Unitarian Universalism calls us to. Not the complacency of those who were "born right the first time." Not the once-and-for-all path of the "born again." But the generous and supple heart of those who can never be born enough. I guess if I had to sum it up on a bumper sticker, mine would say, "Born again... and again... and again."
James Luther Adams, one of the great theologians of our movement, recognized that without this transformation, the religious life is ineffectual. He said: "The element of commitment, of change of heart... has been neglected by religious liberalism, and that is the prime source of its enfeeblement. We liberals are largely an uncommitted and therefore self-frustrating people... We need conversion within ourselves... Only by some such conversion can we be possessed by a love that will not let us go."
Friends, I hope we can hear these words of Adams as a challenge to us. A challenge for our own spiritual lives, as well as a challenge for our religious movement and for the larger cause of progressive religion in America. You know, we've gathered here in Texas with a focus this week on how to better articulate OUR values in the larger world. We're even going to hear from George Lakoff later today. He's the guy that the congressional Democrats have brought in to help them talk about values. (I hope that does not mean that liberal religion is as bad off as the Democratic Party!) I'm looking forward to Lakoff's talk, but my message this morning is that the primary challenge facing religious liberals is not a "communications" challenge, it's a spiritual one. Until the religious left can offer all those seekers out there a compelling story of how their lives can be filled with meaning and transformed by love, then we don't stand a chance. Until we are willing to invite the Abbot Lot's of the world into our midst to be changed into fire, then our power will not grow. The answer to the marginalization of the religious left will not be "spin" it will be "fire." Whether or not we will be changed into fire.
I believe with all my heart, that Unitarian Universalism has a saving message for our broken world. And I want to close by sharing that message with you as I have come to know it. I serve a church whose name is "All Souls." It's a popular name for Unitarian Universalist churches. (Let me hear you if you come from a church called All Souls!) Now I know I'm biased, but I happen to believe that All Souls is just about the best name a church can have. For in those two words are summed up all that is good and holy and true about religion. I mean, can you imagine a church that called itself, "Some Souls Church"? They'd never admit it, but isn't that the de facto name of the dominant religious culture in America. The Religious Right and fundamentalists of all stripes worship a God of some souls. A God who picks and chooses. Who plays favorites, separating the wheat from the chaff, the saved from the damned, the chosen from the forgotten. September 11th reminded us of just how bloody a theology of some souls can be.
Friends, the Good News that we Unitarian Universalists must deliver to the world -- the Good News that Jim Reeb discovered in that hospital room in Philly, the Good News that has literally saved my life -- is that a God who picks and chooses is no God at all. It is an idol. And against this spurious faith we must preach the Old Universalist gospel of a love that invites ALL souls to the welcome table, not some. A love thatw ill not quit until all are drawn into its embrace. A love as a wise person once described it to me- that will not let us go, that will not let us down. And that will not let us off- Now there's a message that is BIG enough and GENEROUS enough and LOVING enough to capture our hearts and change us into fire . In fact, the message is so good, it almost sounds TOO good to be true. But as Mae West once warned, "Too much of a good thing . . . is wonderful!" Other folks worship a god of some souls, and they have the audacity to call that the "good news." We stand for a commanding and transforming Love that embraces ALL souls, and I dare say that is the even better news.
Now, let's go out there and live it.
Amen.
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