In 1870, the Unitarian peace and suffrage activist Julia Ward Howe called on us to listen to the voice coming from “the bosom of the devasted earth.” That voice still calls to us today beckoning us to bring forth justice and peace in the world. Mothers, fathers, children, friends, aunts, uncles, cousins — We all have the power to give life the shape of justice. How can we embrace our role as creators of justice and peace? This will be Joan’s final sermon of her 2012-13 internship at USG.
Listen to a podcast of this sermon.
Readings
from Life Prayers, Henry Horton
Our Mother,
whose body is the Earth,
Sacred is they being.
Thy gardens grow.
Thy will be done in our cities, as it is in nature.
Thanks be this day for food, and air, and water.
Forgive us our sins against Earth,
as we are learning to forgive one another.
And surrender us not unto extinction, but deliver us from our folly.
For thine is the beauty, and the power, and all life, from birth to death, from beginning to end.
Amen.
So be it.
Forever.
Blessed be.
from Breathing Space: A Spiritual Journey in the South Bronx by Heidi Neumark
“These ancient prayers are cries for understanding, strength, liberation, justice, clarity, truth, community…These moans are why I feel so blessed to work here. Of course, God is everywhere, but Jesus was clear about his unique presence among the poor, the hungry and thirsty, the naked and sick, the stranger and the prisoner. Perhaps that’s why I feel so close to life in this place, so blessedly alive. It is life in the face of death here, where the distances are most acute, between lions and lambs, Tiffany’s and Illusions 99¢--all the divisions like class, race and gender that rend the tissue of our humanity—and here, where the valleys cry to rise up and meet the hills. Here love comes to level out uneven ground and make rough places plain, and pleads for our collaboration. When will the work be finished? The wait is nearly unbearable, but here I can bear it because here is where anhelo’s song has seized my soul.”
---
One
of the things I’ve learned about my sermon writing process during my internship
is that it never comes easily. Writing
a sermon can be an agonizing process of sitting at my computer, ready
for words of wisdom to come flowing forth, and
instead staring blankly at my screen, or
worse, allowing myself to get pulled away into some other task. And
this week my procrastination and avoidance was at an all time high.
As
I reflected on this, I came to realize that it was not a coincidence that
my worst bout of procrastination occurred with the preparation of the final
sermon of my internship here at USG. Putting
words on paper made it all too real that what has been such a meaningful
experience for me is actually coming to a close. Avoiding
the writing of this sermon was also avoiding the feelings of loss and grief
that come with any transition. And
especially at the close of an experience that has made me feel, in the words of
Heidi Neumark, blessedly alive.
So
it has been with a heart full of joy and also bit of sadness that this sermon
and I have come to arrive here this morning.
That
phrase, blessedly alive, is an incredibly powerful and meaningful phrase to me.
Last
week, Rev. Kent spoke about creating and re-creating our own lives. And
of living into the creativity that is all around us. For
me, another way to talk about this is continuing to connect with that which
makes us feel so close to life.
So
blessedly alive.
It
seems appropriate to me that Mother’s Day falls within the month that our
spiritual theme is creation. Traditionally,
this is a day dedicated to celebrating women with children and the role they
play as caretakers, and we definitely want to honor all those women, but
as a spiritual community, I think we can also expand our notion of what is
celebrated on this day.
Whether
we have children or not, each of us in our own way creates, births, nurtures
and cares for life – for
the people in our lives – children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, students,
friends – and
for other living beings – beloved pets, flourishing and maybe fledgling
gardens.
The
Social Justice Sunday project that the children in the congregation have been
engaged in as part of their religious education program is a shining example of
this capacity in each of us to embody the creative spirit of mothering.
It
is this spirit that seeks to nurture the abundance and fullness of life.
It
is also this spirit that helps each of us to see creativity at work in the
world and our role in it.
The
theologian Henry Nelson Wieman believed that creativity connects us all and
that where we experience the holy or sacred, creative interchange is taking
place.
Listening
to or singing a stirring piece of music,
Taking
in the vibrant colors of a spring sunrise,
Laughing
that full belly kind of laugh with a good friend.
It
is in the creative process that personal transformation is possible, and
it also in the creative process that societal and environmental transformation is
possible as well.
In
the hymn, "Spirit of Life" by Carolyn McDade, we
sing of a spirit that moves through the world, blowing in the wind, rising in
the sea, stirring compassion, and giving life the shape of justice.
The
spirit of life is a spirit of creation and we are its co-creators.
Most
of us here are interested in the endeavor of leading spiritually engaged and
rich lives. That
is why we show up here on a Sunday morning. Or
participate in any number of church activities.
A
six week adult spiritual development program called “Spirit in Practice” just
concluded this week. Participants
in this program explored a variety of spiritual practices including justice
practices. Some
in the program shared how they had never really thought of social justice as a
spiritual practice.
Yet,
just like singing a beautiful piece of music, our
engagement in practices of social justice are encounters of creative
interchange in which the holy can be experienced.
So,
how do we act as co-creators of life shaped by justice?
How
do we go about bringing forth the fullness and abundance of life?
I
believe that we must first ground ourselves in where we are. We
must pay attention to and appreciate the beauty of the world as well as the
pain.
Each
of these tasks can present its own challenges.
It
can be difficult to appreciate the good and the beautiful when our hearts have become
hardened by all the injustice and violence we witness and hear about.
It
can also be challenging to allow in the reality of the pain of the world
because it is just too overwhelming or because we’d really rather not see it or
feel it.
For
me, it has been difficult to hear updates of the mounting death toll in the
wake of the collapse of the Rana Plaza building in Bangladesh which housed five
garment factories. There
are now over eleven hundred counted among the dead and a part of me doesn’t
want to face the devastating pain of each of those lost lives and the
implications for my own consumer habits.
When
it comes to living into our role as creators of justice it is really this
second task – paying attention to the pain in the world -- that is the hardest
and yet the most crucial.
Joanna
Macy, the Buddhist scholar and ecological activist, says that, “We have to not
be afraid of feeling pain for our world. The anguish we feel for what is
happening is inevitable and normal. If we’re afraid to feel our anguish, we
won't feel where it comes from, and where it comes from is love—our love for
this world.”
This
is what I appreicate about Heidi Neumark’s use of the term blessedly alive. The
blessing she talks about comes from a fierce love for the world and the full
awareness of both life and death. She
writes,
“Perhaps that’s why I feel so close to life in this place, so blessedly alive. It is life in the face of death here, where the distances are most acute, between lions and lambs, Tiffany’s and Illusions 99¢ -- all the divisions like class, race and gender that rend the tissue of our humanity—and here, where the valleys cry to rise up and meet the hills. Here love comes to level out uneven ground and make rough places plain, and pleads for our collaboration.”
Love
causes us to feel anguish and also to notice goodness.
And
it pleads for our collaboration.
Neumark
witnessed the pain of poverty and urban environmental degradation in her
community due to decades of neglect by the city. And
she also experienced the beauty of a religious community that was there for
each other in these times of hardship. Who
made meals for each other. And
walked children home from school. And
sang songs of praise in a building badly in need of repair.
With
that community she worked to give life the shape of justice.
Wangari
Maathai, the Kenyan environmental and political activist and 2004 Nobel Peace
Prize winner, was also a creator of justice and peace. The
Green Belt Movement which she founded in 1977 reclaimed the landscape of Kenya
over the last three decades of her life and transformed the lives of women and
their families.
Even
though she had moved away from home, it
was her childhood memories of the richness and abundance of the land that
shaped her approach to helping the women of rural Kenya. For
Maathai, justice for women was directly connected to caring for the beautiful
land she had grown to love as a child. The
pain and suffering that people faced could be addressed by bringing back that
beautiful resource.
Both
Heidi Neumark and Wangari Maathai created justice by resisting those forces
that destroy the beauty and joy of the world.
And,
we can do this, too.
As
creators of justice, we ground ourselves in where we are now. We
recognize the beauty of the world. And we feel the pain of the world as well.
From
this place, our creative action emerges.
Where
is it that you see beauty and that you experience pain in your community?
We
are lucky that here at USG we need not look farther than our own backyard to
witness the beauty and abundance of life’s creation. We get to experience it each
time we gather on this nearly six acres of precious land – our own little piece
of creation.
And,
there is more to our community than just the beautiful land and its inhabitants
of chipmunks, squirrels, robins, maple trees and oak trees.
There
is also the community of people we touch.
We
know that beauty and pain intermingle within the walls of our church and in the
lives of those who are a part of this religious community.
And
not too far from here, beauty and pain intermingle on the streets where young
people are victims of gun violence, where the city’s public schools face
continued budget cuts, but also where community gardens flourish, and where
survivors of human trafficking are beginning to rebuild their lives.
This
beauty and this pain call for our creative action.
Many
of you are engaged in one or multiple issues through our social action
initiatives here at USG.
Tutoring
at Lingelbach Elementary School and advocating on behalf of the cities’ public
schools.
Working
towards climate change policy and reducing your own carbon footprint.
Supporting
just wages and benefits for restaurant workers.
Advocating
for an end to prison construction.
Raising
awareness of women’s reproductive rights.
There
is no shortage of ways to engage in justice practices here at USG.
Today
you might consider, what is a next step for you?
What
is the next creative action you can take in your journey as a creator of
justice?
Here,
where the valleys cry to rise up and meet the hills, and love comes to level
out uneven ground and make rough places plain – how is love pleading for your
collaboration?
As
I mentioned, this is the final sermon of my internship which officially ends on
May 31. And I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for helping me to feel
blessedly alive these past almost nine months.
As
a religious community, you are creating and nurturing a loving and caring
spiritual home where all are welcomed. You
are creating opportunities for experiencing the wonder and awe of life. You
are creating meaningful interactions with organizations and individuals in our
broader Mt. Airy and Philadelphia community. And
you are creating a place that sustains souls full of longing for connection and
love.
USG,
you are blessedly alive.
May
you continue to lift up the fullness of life with hearts full of love for this
world.
Amen.
Benediction
Let us go from here with the spirit of Love in our hearts
Let us care for one another and the earth which is our home
Let us be creators of justice and peace for all of our days.
Amen. Blessed be.