The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Salem, Oregon

UUCS Sermons
Sermon by Rev. Richard R. Davis

In January of 1982 I began studying for the ministry at Emory University in Atlanta, Ga. (Most students started in the fall semester, but not me). In January of 1986 I began serving as the first ever intern minister of the Unitarian Church of San Diego, CA. On January 4, 1987 – twenty years ago - I stood in the pulpit to deliver my first sermon as a settled minister in front of the good folks at Emerson Unitarian Church in Canoga Park, CA. where I served for the next six years. On January 3, 1993 - fourteen years ago - I stood in the pulpit over at our previous home on 19th St. and began my ministry here, which has certainly included some of the best years of my life.

January seems to be a time when I begin new legs of my journey, and it is also a time when I think about the trajectory of my life’s journey. Forget New Year’s resolutions – I have never made those because they tend to be unrealistic and a recipe for setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. But the beginning of the New Year is a time when I reflect on my journey - thinking about where I came from, where I am now, where I might be going, and how I might be growing (or stagnating). Whether you do this in January or June or some other time, it is good periodically to pause on the banks of the flowing river of time and reflect on the journey you are on. As someone has written: “To recollect is to gather together past experiences of success or failure as stepping stones for new ventures.” 

For me, as for many of you, physical growth ceased some time ago and we’re in a gradual physical decline. But what about spiritual growth? – that’s a different matter. What is that? 

Truth be told, the phrase “spiritual growth” is rather nebulous sounding, but I do think it refers to something very significant and meaningful. Apparently, a lot of Unitarian Universalists agree since we freely chose to include this phrase in the core document of our movement – our Principles and Purposes. The third of our seven principles states that “we covenant to affirm and promote – “acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations.” I’ve seen this referred to elsewhere as “psycho-spiritual development.” It is the growth that results in a deepening of wisdom and a stronger commitment to truth and compassion and love for the neighbor.

And how does it come about?

First of all, whether or not you grow spiritually depends on your faith – the faith that shapes and orients your life. I am not speaking here of adherence to a specific theological belief system, but rather the implicit trust that we all have that things are, ultimately, a certain way. Every person has an implicit faith in some notion of ultimate reality according to which we orient our lives. Having some implicit trust in some type of an ultimate reality is a universal human characteristic, whether you could put it into words. For example, a purely materialistic investment banker may place ultimate faith in power, which money can buy. A political fanatic may have faith in the dogma of some political faction. The addict has faith in the drug or the bottle. The nihilist may have faith that there is no meaning or purpose to life whatsoever, the psychopath may have faith that we live in a cutthroat world, and it’s every person for himself or herself, whereas the Christian fundamentalist has faith in a cruel God who casts nonbelievers into hell, and the scientific fundamentalist may have faith only in that which can be literally measured and tested. 

Your faith is your vision upon which your heart ultimately rests. In Hinduism there is a Sanskrit term for this – “Sraddha – that which you rest your heart upon.” It can be a false, life negating faith that leads you to become more self centered and separate from others, more narrow minded and small hearted, or it can be a life affirming faith that leads you to enter more fully into the commonwealth of being. Which is to say, it matters which star you hitch your wagon to, because this determines the direction of your life. Or as Emerson put it: “That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and our character.”

Personally speaking - as best I can sum it up in a few words - my faith, which is grounded in some personal experiences and reflections, is that there is a heart at the heart of reality, a sacred, transcendent reality affirmed by mystics from various religious and philosophical traditions, and that this reality is immanent in all of us, that we are all part of an interdependent web of sublime meaning and joyful purpose and I am called to attune my life to this wondrous reality. 

In our free faith tradition we do not tell one another what particular faith to embrace – and thank goodness for that, but we do encourage one another to examine our respective faiths – those core values and orientations that shape our lives - to see if our faiths enhance and enrich all our lives and lead to spiritual growth. 

And how do we know whether spiritual growth is taking place? Jesus provided a solid clue with a vivid metaphor: “By their fruits ye shall know them. Every healthy tree produces choice fruit, but the diseased tree produces rotten fruit.” It’s very practical matter, actually. Jesus did not say “By their professed ideas and ideals you shall know them.” Folks can have all kinds of high sounding ideals, yet if our characters and our lives do not bear witness to those ideals, then it’s all meaningless. Even if you go to Church or Temple or Mosque and you do all the right things that upstanding citizens are supposed to do and yet you remain selfish, arrogant, hard hearted, uncaring, unforgiving, mean spirited, uncharitable, then Jesus, who could be quite blunt, would say you’re just plain rotten. (Personally, I usually lack the nerve to be quite so direct, so I’m just quoting Jesus here.) 

In other words, the whole idea of spiritual growth is to become, in one form or another, a true blessing to the world, a compassionate presence, a peace maker, an advocate for true justice. In the Jewish tradition they call this Tikkun Olam – “repairing the world.” This point needs to be stressed since the idea of spiritual growth can be seen too narrowly and narcissistically, and it comes to be yet another egotistical endeavor dressed up in spiritual finery instead of something that connects us to more transcendent purposes. 
Along these lines the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chogyam Trungkpa Rimpoche used to speak of the perils of “spiritual materialism” – which is what often happens to spiritual ideals in a fundamentally materialistic culture. Spiritual growth and enlightenment becomes just like another commodity, another thing or quality you possess. 
Yet even as it defeats the purpose to seek spiritual growth for selfish reasons, such growth can result in an enhanced sense of well being – a greater sense of joy, openness and wonder, more connection to the whole, more compassion and more trust and acceptance of the flow of life, and more courage to face the inevitable trials and tribulations. But if the selfish desire for these is what motivates you then true spiritual growth is not likely, since it is a call to transcend, not serve, the ego.

So far, in this sermonic journey we’ve been sauntering along a relatively easy path, and have hardly broken into a sweat. But now we come to the place where an uphill climb lies before us as we face this indisputable fact: Spiritual growth is not inevitable as is physical growth. In fact, spiritual growth may be the exception rather than the norm. A person can choose to live in a state of arrested spiritual development. You can turn away from the challenge to grow, retreat into myriad distractions and diversions, avoid the call to become more openhearted, open minded, compassionate, courageous, just, forgiving, wise. At some level, in some way, either consciously or unconsciously, we make that choice – to grow or to decline that challenge. And I can well appreciate the decision to decline, because real change, genuine – not imaginary - transformation isn’t easy. 
An old Sufi story comes to mind. One night that Holy Fool, Mullah Nasruddin, was seen on his hands and knees underneath a street lamp. A friend asked him what he was doing and Mullah said he was looking for his house key, which he had dropped and lost. This friend, and soon another couple of friends who saw what was going on, joined in this painstaking search, looking for Mullah’s key. They all searched diligently but in vain. Finally, in exasperation, one friend finally said, “Mullah, we just can’t find the key anywhere around here. Approximately where around here do you think you might have dropped it?” Mullah responded, “O, I didn’t drop it anywhere around here. In fact, I’m sure I lost it way around the corner.” “Then why, for God’s sake, have we been looking for it here?” “Because the light is better here.” 

Now what the heck is that all about? The merit of such stories is that they can’t be boiled down to one simple interpretation. But here’s what it says to me: In our life journey, if we want to find the key to growth and wisdom, we have to leave the familiar, the easy places and venture off into new, mysterious, daunting places – beyond the light of our usual, comfortable ways of being and doing, especially if we’re feeling stuck and unfulfilled. 
We’re all different and we each have our own journey, that unique place beyond the familiar light deeper into the mystery where we are being called to explore – some of us are being called to leave behind superficial pursuits to find the key to deeper meaning, some of us are being called to move beyond trepidation and anxiety to find the key to greater courage and purposeful action, while others are being called beyond despair toward the realm of lasting hope, yet others are called to let go and move beyond perpetual anger and frustration to a place of patience and perseverance or the unfamiliar terrain of forgiveness and reconciliation, some of us are being called to enter in to silence and face ourselves, some of us are being called to end the bad habit of self loathing and living under a crushing burden of guilt and shame and learn to recognize your own worth. 

Our growing edges are so vast, so different according to our character and temperament, and the are different at various stages of our journey, but everyone has a growing edge – that place toward which you are now being called to grow, a place that seems dark and unfamiliar because you haven’t gone there yet. But there is a key there, hiding in the darkness, waiting for you to find it. I have faith that that is true for each one of us. Religious Scholar Eugene Bianchi, speaks of this in his richly textured book “Aging as a Spiritual Journey” where he speaks of the “psychological faith through which the ego allows itself to encounter and be led by inner forces that transcend its complete control – a letting go in faith that paradoxically opens the seeker to the experience of new spiritual horizons.”

The ego’s desire for complete control is an illusion anyway. Most of life is out of our control. Yet there is one area in which we do have control and that is in our responses to life. One person encounters adversity and throws in the towel, caving in to bitterness and disappointment, yet another encounters a similar or greater challenge and chooses to overcome, to learn, to persevere, to look deeper into the nature of reality and find peace. One person decides that the purpose of life is to maximize personal enjoyment and takes the road of never ending diversions, whereas another chooses to devote his or her time and energy to support some life affirming cause, seeking to heal the world. We have a choice: To grow or not to grow, that is the question. 

Recently I saw former Vice President Al Gore’s alarming documentary on Global Warming: “An Inconvenient Truth.” In this movie he notes that after the debacle of the 2000 presidential election, which resulted in the other candidate moving into the White House, Gore had to face a question: “How should I spend my time on this earth?” He discerned that he had a special and unique mission to warn us all of the dangers of global warming because this was the most meaningful thing he could envision doing. This is his path of growth and purpose.

Now we may not be high profile, powerful people who can fly around giving speeches to thousands of people. But we are people who also face this same question. How should we spend our time on this earth? We don’t have forever to decide, for the days and years flow by. At the beginning of every January I am reminded of this, as yet another year of my ministry goes by. At such times I understand why the ancient Psalmist said, “So teach us to number our days, that we might get a heart of wisdom.” Indeed, the recognition that our days are numbered reminds me that I must choose how to spend them. There are many paths to follow. Some lead me deeper into the wonder and mystery, toward greater awareness and appreciation for the miracle of life. I hope I have the wisdom to take them. 

So Be It.