Belonging as "The Better Part" - On Loneliness as An Invitation to Discover New Resources (Jul 17, 2016)

Sermon: Belonging as “the Better Part”

           - On Loneliness as An Invitation to Discover New Resources

Text: Luke 10:38-42

I would like to begin our conversation with a question I posted to my Facebook page: “What is the primary factor that creates loneliness in you, if you have ever experienced it, or if you are feeling lonely now?” Please let me repeat the question for you.

As we think about that question, I would like you to get up from your seats and make a big circle around the chairs. You can move slowly, take your time, especially if you find moving a bit of a challenge.

The goal of this activity is to acknowledge that for some of us loneliness is a real problem. We acknowledge that it is present in our lives. If you deal with the issue of loneliness or isolation for any reason, gently squeeze the hand of the person next to you, and if you’re shy about the person next to you knowing that you do, I add this: if you notice that the person next to you gently squeezes your hand, pass it on to the person on your other side.

And let’s come back to our seats.

My wondering about the nature of loneliness in our lives, its effects on our lives and how we can understand it and deal with it started when I read Loneliness as an Invitation to Discover New Resources, in Joan Chittister’s book, Between the Dark and the Daylight: Embracing the Contradictions of Life. On my first reading, I was surprised and delighted to develop a new lens to see loneliness in a positive way. In her book, Chittister deals with a kind of loneliness that is mainly caused by the external changes and transitions we all may experience in a new life situation or environment. Joan says, “Every life deals with loneliness at some point or other: Our partner dies; sickness sets in that makes our old social calendar impossible; we find ourselves in a new job, a new town, a new country, a new world. More than one person who was once naturally outgoing and apparently self-confident has succumbed to all of those things. The problem is that the more we withdraw, the more withdrawn we become. People stop calling. No one stops by. I never meet anyone new. I never do meaningful new things. But then is not the time to hide from the world; then is the time to strike out in totally new ways to find the rest of the self in the rest of the world.” To find the rest of the self in the rest of the world! “It is the opportunity we do not seek, to do things we never thought of doing, and in the end it is an invitation to become new again.”

Chittister shares a story that happened when she was nineteen, when she began living with “All professed nuns” as a novitiate. As a student nun, she didn’t know any of them personally. She had nothing in common with the older nuns. The community customs simply did not provide for any way to make personal connections. In fact, the rules said that professed sisters were not permitted to speak to the nonprofessed except professionally. Chittister says it was a very lonely, very desperate time. “At that age, at a new point in life, I needed more personal contact than that.” She couldn’t leave the place. She couldn’t change the place. Then it became clear to her that getting through this was really up to her. She knew that she had to have a plan. So, she made a list of things she had wanted to do for years but was never in the right situation to try: study all of Shakespeare’s plays, for instance, read all the American musicals, learn to carve leather. Chittister says that all of a sudden the desperate time became a totally immersed life with educational and artistic potentials. When she looks back on that brief time of her life, she learns that as a result of that situation, she discovered something that has proven invaluable over the years. “In order for loneliness - as real as it is - to deplete us, we must feed it.”

Chittister’s insights help me to see loneliness in a positive way - especially if, at certain points of our lives, experiencing it is inevitable - . The new lens surely has power that can rescue us from drowning in self-pity over our perceived miseries. Yes, “Loneliness can be another kind of call to go on growing in ways that take us beyond dependency on others to the creation of life’s most important resources within ourselves.” Yes, “Loneliness is a sign that there are whole parts of us that cry out for development.” I was very surprised and welcomed those words - the crying out for development!

However, I also see the limitations that are present in Chittister’s views on loneliness. Can we just say that the meaningful conclusion of handling loneliness is just up to an individual, just up to me, and self-development? 
Yes, loneliness offers an invaluable lesson on how to become good company for ourselves. We are not meant to lie awake at night wondering if someone, anyone, will come to our rescue. We are meant to be our own best friends! 
But –

The factors that create loneliness are not only those external changes and transitions we face and experience in our lives - a new job, a new town, a new country, loss, illness. And the cure for the factors are not just developing new resources that feed new satisfaction for life such as new skills, talents, hobbies, things to learn or focus upon. I believe the most important insight Chittister suggests is discovering new resources within ourselves.

When I posted the question to my Facebook page, my friend Ray responded. “The primary factor that creates my loneliness is the belief that I must be self-sufficient. When I allow my own vulnerability to be revealed, I risk a great deal - but only then can the greatest rewards have a possibility.”

What he points out is the cure or the companion for going through loneliness is trust in the courage to connect - to connect to God, to connect to ourselves, to connect to others through allowing our own vulnerability to be revealed. Staying and sharing the vulnerability requires highly skilled art of mind. Good spirituality is all about this - how we can allow ourselves to be in that place to connect - by opening up, letting go of control, fear, anger, and standing with one foot on the rope of vulnerability, trusting that even if what we can see is just a void, there’s a safety net God has thrown under our feet. It looks like we will fall; we will never fall.

Minority identity can create loneliness. Shame that we have been keeping in secret or burying deep can create loneliness. Disability can create loneliness. Suicidal thoughts can create loneliness. There are many factors that create loneliness in us. However, there may be one simple cure, or more correctly, converging to one: discovering the true source of love that enables belonging. Or, to put it differently, being settled in a deep sense of love and belonging. These two things always go together - impossible to separate. These two concepts and practices reach out to each other. Love and belonging are linked together.

First, love: We can cultivate love only when we allow our most vulnerable selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honour the spiritual connection that grows from that offering. Love is not something we give or get: it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that needs to be cultivated, and we can only love others as much as we love ourselves. Shame, guilt, blame, disrespect, and the withholding of affection - love can survive these injuries if they are acknowledged and healed.

Second, belonging: Belonging can cure loneliness only if the ‘belonging’ is belonging in a true and real sense. Because yearning for belonging is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval. But fitting in is not only a hollow substitute for belonging; it is a barrier to it. True belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect or unique selves to the world and we are accepted as ourselves. Belonging transforms us and the way we handle loneliness. Belonging is not just fitting in and being approved for qualities you don’t really possess. Belonging includes you as you are, encourages you and empowers you to accept yourself, love yourself - with your imperfection and perfection, you as an incredible image of God’s resilience -  and you are called in return to offer that belonging to others.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus says to us, “There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the ‘better part’, which will not be taken away from her.” What is the “better part”? The better part is always being settled in the deep sense of love and belonging. True belonging as the cure for loneliness is ‘the better part.’

(For further reading on love and belonging, see Brene Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection, Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are, p. 26)

Remembering Dorothy... (Jul, 16, 2016)

Remembering Dorothy…and all who loved her so much

Text: John 14

It is always such an honour to write a message for the family and their friends at a Celebration of Life, because I am given the blessing of being included in the heart-engaging process of remembering, sharing the grief and the happy memories, of a person whom we have been privileged to know. Thank you, Margaret, for allowing me and everyone present here to claim that privilege. Today, we remember and celebrate the life of Dorothy Naish. Dorothy was a beloved mother, grandmother, teacher, and friend to many people. Dorothy had many interests and talents, (golf, curling, canoeing, travelling, camping, painting) and her broad interests brought many friends from all walks of life into her life. Dorothy was proud to have them all, and joyfully journeyed with us all. Dorothy embraced life’s joys and blessings fully; she never lost the sense that as we connect, we become stronger. She also taught us the importance of virtues such as generosity and charity for the betterment of others.

We celebrate life, not just because of its glory, triumphs, success, but because it shapes what humanity is and how strong it is: in the end, through life experiences, we learn that between the dark and the daylight we encounter the break of dawn, the sunrise of the early morning, fresh dew drops on our feet. Life teaches us that after a storm will come the calm of fair skies. Even after a downpour of rain, we see God’s sign of peace - a rainbow brightening the darkest corner of the sky. Yes, loss, grief and emptiness become an unbearable pain at the unforeseen bends of our life, and death is irrevocable. Nobody should say to you when you suffer, “After all this grief  passes, you’ll see hope rising again like the sun, and your life will move on” without offering real and sincere care for this time - when you experience life turning its back on you, cold like winter, frozen, barren, just trees of bare nakedness. The spring birds have hidden themselves. Suddenly we see everyone else has returned to their place, leaving us alone, in need of a warm, heart-felt, connection.

Then a flash of realization strikes our core: if we all are created by God to live life and to love and be loved, this life should still be a gift for us. Not a burden, a curse, or a test. It should be a gift to us. Even now, we should be in God’s and everyone’s hands of care that support our life’s journey, still blossoming and blessing. Even at this time, we still need to accept life’s call to become who we are meant to be. We still need to be assured that we will gain the joy and love that make us dream all the greater, that make us hope for better for the life of others and ourselves. We are all beings who exist and aspire to be accepted, through one love: through the love that is pure, infinite, and vast. God sets no terms for receiving that love. God says, “My forgiveness is endless, my love for you, infinite, my care for you, vast, my compassion, beyond words, so that you may know that you are mine. You are mine. I have called you by your name. I will call you by your name, as you are mine.”

In today’s reading, we hear Jesus say, “In my father’s house, there are my dwelling-places.” When I hear that, I ask myself what kind of house I imagine. Do I imagine a house or a mansion that has many rooms, but like a hotel or an inn that has check-in and check-out systems, where each room is designed and built to ensure privacy and separateness from the others? Or a home where we all are equally beloved family members, warmly invited to come and gather at the table and have a meal together. We just need to be ourselves, nothing else, and we are supposed to feel the warmth of each other, not coldness, not indifference. In the home of God, it is crystal clear that there’s no condition other than that we will be united with one another through ONE love, one BIG love. All will be entitled to that perfect love! That the Father’s house has many rooms doesn’t mean that God gives different kinds or different levels of love to those who are asked to come and stay in different rooms: This, 90 % love to Susan in the blue room. That, 67 % love to Graham in the green room. The love of God is the love that has only one kind, one fullness, one completeness, one vastness. It is the love that forgives, that accepts, that endures, that hopes, that not only hugs momentarily and say kind words, but that confesses the eternal love that does not change, but makes room for all of us who receive this love.

This moment, today, and many many days, months, years after today, we remember and will remember, celebrate, and shed tears of grief and gladness for all who have been so precious and left us so much to be grateful for. Dorothy’s life was a seed that held a tree, which has been planted, grown, blossomed, and will continue to stand among us and lend shade and fruit to those who need its blessings. Life travels with us through time; in awe, we exclaim how precious, how starkly beautiful and strong each one’s life is! May we all remember and bless our life as a gift, an awesome gift that the whole cosmos through eons of time has created for us. Until we all gather at the shining river of God’s place, at the eternal realm that consoles and embraces every soul, may we be blessed by faith, hope, love, knowing that the greatest is love. Rest in the deep peace of Christ, Dorothy. We will meet again.

Joy as Ordinary Courage (July 10, 2016)

Sermon: Joy as ordinary courage

Text: Psalm 91, Luke 10:25-37

Our first reading, Psalm 91, has inspired many beautiful hymns such as On Eagle’s Wings and There is Room for All - the one we just sang. No wonder it’s so inspiring - this psalm is about hope. What confidence can we have in God? What makes our mind fearless? The psalm offers great words and images that praise God as our protector - “fortress, stronghold, dwelling place, shelter.” It assures us that with faith in God, we are moved to be courageous, sustained by a sense of real security: seeing our life secured and nurtured in “The shadow/shade of the wings of the Lord”, rather than believing that we are at the mercy of the brutal, harsh aspects of life, caught helplessly in life’s predicaments. After all, God wants us to know, we are called to accept life, embrace life as a gift, not as a burden or curse. For some of us, this realization, this acceptance, is tough. At certain bends on the road of our life, it takes courage to celebrate something that can feel more like painful work than a blessing. God’s promise is that, in the ink-black, tunnel of our life’s challenges, we are moved to learn that faith is not assurance of worldly security. Faith becomes equivalent to having the courage to ask the right question, which is not (asking in despair), “Now, what’s gonna happen?” but (engaging with a thought process), “Which alternative routes are God showing me, and how can I get from here to there?” This thought process inspires hope.

The well known “Good Samaritan” story, our second reading of the day, also teaches us about courage. Jesus did not teach us the parable to make us feel guilty when we ignore a homeless person. A parable shouldn’t become a cliche. It should inspire in each person, in each community, in each different context, genuine wonder, authentic questions. No one can claim that she or he has the single, right answer, the one true interpretation of a parable. Jesus puts a question to the listener: what does it take to truly live a life that embodies the hope of good news? Our life’s journey is not just from womb to tomb; it is an odyssey that moves people from birth to rebirth, from partial life to abundant life. The traveller needs a map in their heart to guide them as they journey in a dangerous world, especially when life’s ultimate goal is not arriving at a specific destination, accruing wealth, building achievements, but learning letting go.

On the back page of your bulletin, I put a picture of David Giuliano and his words. David served as the moderator of the United Church of Canada from 2006 to 2009. During that time, he found out he had a malignant cancer that had been misdiagnosed for years. He said, in his recent interview, “I don’t like the cancer ‘battle’ metaphor. I prefer ‘pilgrimage.’ We meet other pilgrims and come to understand ourselves.” (The full interview: http://healthydebate.ca/faces-health-care/cancer-religion-philosophy)

When I first read that, I wondered what kind of courage he was exercising, as he believed in and lived what he just said, especially in a very scary part of his life (in actuality, he said, it was the most sacred part of his life). In the midst of a time when anger, despair, or even blaming others would be an understandable response, he chose compassion. He chose to not hide his illness and disability. He chose to trust in the process which would let him vulnerable, to show his imperfection, and to allow people to journey with him and understand his persistence.

We call people like David,  ‘ordinary heroes of faith’. I think, truly, we all are ordinary heroes of faith as each of us is a survivor of a different kind of life’s tests. But there are also those whose lives clearly witness a distinctive wholehearted living. Wholehearted living has many different definitions, which are intertwined and interrelated, and only with all the definitions together can we fully describe what wholehearted living might mean. Yet - here’s one definition I would like to share, today: Wholeheartedness is about embracing our tenderness and vulnerability. This definition must be paired with the following: How much we know and understand ourselves is critically important, but there is something that is even more essential to living a wholehearted life: loving oneself (p. xi, in Preface, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who We are, Brene Brown)

The faith that the Psalmist writes about in Psalm 91 and the teaching of faith that Jesus imparts to the young rich ruler when he asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” tell us about the essential center of becoming truly human, and what is our call: Wholeheartedness. Its quality is well tuned with courage, trust, rest, worthiness, hope, authenticity, love, belonging, joy, gratitude, creativity. The warmth of wholeheartedness exists in contrast to the qualities or attitudes of perfection, numbness to new experiences, certainty, exhaustion, self-sufficiency, judgement, and scarcity. (Brene Brown, p. x, in Preface). Brene Brown started her career as a researcher of human behaviours and patterns; what she has discovered through her research is very inspiring: To paprahrase her words,  those who are fully engaged in wholehearted living are not so very different from others; they experience all the struggles and pain that others do. What makes their life different is that they are aware of the dangers of numbing themselves, and have developed the ability to feel their way through highly vulnerable experiences. It becomes clear that faith is not the agent in our life that enables us to be perfect, or to protect us from necessary or unnecessary pain, or to rescue us from them. …

In my opinion, having faith doesn’t change the outer circumstances of your life. Salvation is God’s work, and salvation is more about our life, our self, becoming whole.  Faith is God’s companionship in which God sustains you and goes with you as you go through your highly vulnerable experiences and life challenges. (If you would like to understand what ‘being vulnerable, staying vulnerable’ or ‘vulnerability’ mean, I highly recommend that you read “The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You are” written by Brene Brown.)

Things happen to us - bad things, good things. The only choice we have is how we accept them, how we interpret their effect on our lives. It’s God’s will for us to do it, and God’s gift: our free will to make choices. I ask you, and encourage us all  to choose joy. In a recent sermon, I shared with you that, at the recent retreat I had at DUIM, I encountered something at a deeper level of myself - which was quite a lot of anger. Some people shared with me that the quote on joy I shared in that sermon still resonated with them. They see that uncertainty about the future, life’s essential unknowability and fear interferes with our potential to live life with joy, or have joy lead our life. (The summary of the quote would be ‘joy’s opposite is not sadness, but fear. The full sermon - Uncovering Anger and Joy: http://peacemama3.blogspot.ca/2016/06/sermon-on-1-kings-19-uncovering-anger.html)

So, what choices should we make to insure that joy leads our life’s energy and it becomes the way we welcome ourselves, the world, and our future? There’s no such thing as Joy 101, or The Dummy’s Guide to Joy or a Joy how-to-class. The ancient Greeks said, joy is something that is found only in God and comes with virtue and wisdom. That means joy is not a thing that we can schedule, manage, harness to serve us at any time when we want. Joy is a gift of grace - not something you can put on your credit card. Gratitude is a spiritual practice, and joy is the light that only gratitude can help grow. Joy and gratitude can be very humbling and intense experiences. We embrace them, when we can say, “I am feeling vulnerable. (I am feeling… (your words) ) And that’s okay. I am grateful for…”

Joy can be our choice. I would dare to say that joy is the ordinary courage. By ‘ordinary’ I mean, first, this courage doesn’t requires us to become heroic. Second, joy must twinkle in our daily lives, in and between our daily struggles and daily triumphs (Joy ‘Twinkles', it’s not a constant beam.) It comes to us in moments. And with God’s help, we must seize it in the right moment, in the right, ordinary moments before we miss it: a blessing along the way. A celebration along the way. A success along the way. I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration, and faith. By ‘ordinary’ I also mean that we must trust the value of ordinary. We often equate ordinary with boring, or even more dangerously, ordinary almost has become synonymous with meaningless, in our vocabulary. But no. Joy is the ordinary courage that enables us to see our world, ourselves, our friends, our family members, our neighbours, as a place of grace, as a connection of grace, by togetherness that creates in the here and now the home of God for all, the home full of gifts to celebrate, and the home where we find belonging (not just fitting-in) and the reason to live, … The reason to absolutely live and live life abundantly, as it is freely given to us by God.

Funeral Sermon - Celebrate Christiane

Celebrating Christiane

John 14:1-6

Every month, I go to two senior’s lodges to worship with the members. I begin each worship by introducing our worship leadership team, Marnie, Gordon, Louise, Loraine, Edith, Beryl, Valerie, and any others who come to help. It would be a simple duty to lead the worship; it becomes an honoured duty when we see and appreciate such a welcoming congregation waiting for us. They welcome us, accept us, cheer us on, and say things that are very encouraging - “Good worship” “Good job” “Thank you”, “Come back!”

Worshipping at Senior’s lodges is not just a duty - it’s a joy, actually a huge joy, because even if we might sing the same songs over and over each month (there are songs that are in high demand, like I Love to Tell the Story, What a Friend We Have In Jesus, Jesus Loves Me, and Amazing Grace) there’s such faith and love in the faces of the singers. I have trust in the singer’s heart. When you look a person in the eye while you sing and she sings, there’s a shy but happy encounter in the brief eye-contact. There’s a warm human connection, without condition, without judgement, without labeling or prejudice. Worship is heart-to-heart communication.

Christians was that kind of person. If you have ever been to a service at River Park Gardens, you couldn’t miss her; she was always in the first row. Christiane looked at you. She smiled for you. She sang with you. You just had to notice her presence, her energy that her body, her whole self, expressed without self-consciousness. Christiane shared with us something very positive - like the light that is brighter because it knows the meaning of the shadow. Her spirit of positivity was a tangible thing that brought me and my worship team joy - it’s the reason we go back every month, to sing and worship with the good people at the Lodges. Now we’ve lost Christiane and her smile, and we will miss her.

In our first scripture reading from John, we hear Thomas say, “Lord, we do not know where you are going.” Jesus had already offered an answer before Thomas asked. Jesus said, “ (I am going) to my Father’s house; it has many places to dwell, and I’ll prepare a place for you.’

What place is this that Jesus prepares for all to come and dwell?

Our second reading describes the ‘holy city’. The key is not “city” as an actual built-up place that takes up physical space somewhere inside the universe. Rather, the importance must be given to the place’s 'sacredness'. I believe joy is sacred. Not just a candy-flavoured joy that only lasts for a temporary moment, a sweet thing that fades easily. It’s not the kind of joy that follows worldly achievements, either. Joy is not the same as pride. The full-time, all-encompassing joy that doesn’t cease, that doesn’t decay, is the nature of God. Joy isn’t blind to human sorrow, distress, agony, struggles, challenges. Joy comes as the ‘culmination of being’. When we are around a person who knows this joy, and knows how to live it, even going through hard life circumstances, we are blessed by the fruit that this virtue produces in that person - wisdom, courage, fortitude and gratitude.

I believe that Christiane has left us and so many people a legacy we will remember: love. Brene Brown says, 

“Joy is a light that fills you with hope and faith and love.” 

It is true that we can only love others as much as we love ourselves, and what Christiane taught us and her family is the courage to love oneself, as she so loved us. Christiane’s family emphasized something as they shared their memories with me last week: “She has given us unconditional love.”

The “amazing teacher, who loved amazingly” Christiane, is parted from us for now, joining the place that Jesus prepares for her and for all - the holy city of joy, the home of God - where death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more; where the first things passes away. With Christiane, with us, even now, our new becoming is being born and blossoming into the cosmos, into the future, in the hands of God - the Eternal.