"Spiritual Growth"

Dave Weissbard

UU Rockford

12/13/98

While, as I pointed out in my last Annual Report, most of the sermons I deliver address one or more of the Principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association, I have been asked to deliver a series of sermons which explicitly focus on them. Late last winter we looked at the first, an affirmation of our belief in "The inherent worth and dignity of every person," and the second, "Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations." This morning we turn to the third Principle which is an affirmation of our belief in "Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations." Actually, without have said so explicitly, my last full length sermon in this pulpit, in which I spoke of our differing "Reality Tunnels," addressed the first part - acceptance of one another in spite of the differing ways in which we perceive the world. Today, in the spirit of the Christmas season, we will look at the second part of that principle: "encouragement to spiritual growth."

Materialism is a philosophy, a way of understanding life, that emphasizes "matter," the concrete, the palpable, the measurable. The first materialist philosopher was the ancient Greek, Democritus who suggested that the entire universe was composed of tiny material particles, which he called atoms. Materialism came to the fore during the Enlightenment in France which saw a strong opposition to what was viewed as the superstition of the religious establishment, and many would suggest that materialism became the driving force of Western culture. That perspective is well summed up in the principle, the humorous variations of which I shared in my Kairos column this week, "The one who dies with the most toys wins." Materialism insists that what matters most in the world is not concepts or feelings or other such ephemera, but that which can be measured - our "net worth," or the amount of debt we are able to accumulate. If you consider the mobs in the stores, even as we speak, there is a operating presumption that what matters most about Christmas, for instance, is the dollar value of the gifts we give and receive - and that message is hammered home by the media, in service of our economy.

There is a problem with materialism as a life philosophy, however: it seems not to satisfy. There is a hunger in the human heart which it does not fill - a compelling hunger. The Bill Gates of the world, who have accumulated more material wealth than they or their descendants unto the tenth generation can ever consume, experience a sense of incompleteness, of insufficiency.

Now, there have been times when "spirituality" has been marketed by the powerful to the poor as a way of getting them to accept their exploitation. This is the basis of Marx's assertion that "religion is the opiate of the masses." While living a materialistic philosophy, the possessors of wealth have given lip service to the virtues of the spirit, even as their actions gave lie to their words.

But the surprising thing has been that as material well being has spread, there has seemed to be an accompanying malaise. Mental and physical illnesses have increased at a rate which some believe can be traced to the inadequacies of materialism.

The current generation in this country has experienced what some describe as a third "Great Awakening." "Spirituality" has become a preeminent concern. The problem is that it is very difficult to define "spirituality" because it has many guises. At one extreme, it represents almost a denial of all that which is material - it is an affirmation that nothing we can see and touch is really important, that this life is but a preparation for an immaterial life to come in which those who have experienced material success in this life will be impoverished when the tables are turned. (It's like the depression song about the Salvation Army Lassies who promise that there'll be "Pie in the Sky When You Die.")

One dimension of this resurgence of the spiritual has been a flocking to fundamentalist churches which offer a supernatural certainty, which encourage their adherents to reject the science which has been linked to materialism and believe in a world view which satisfied our ancestors two millennia ago.

There is also a side of the spiritual movement, the proportions of which are uncertain because it is not institutional. Its direction is not toward fundamentalism, but inward, toward the spirit within, toward the mystical.

Religion has always had its mystical roots. Most of the founders of religions have been people who had a profound personal, mystical experience. Others have been able to observe the power of the transformation they have experienced, and have sought them out as guides and teachers. The problem has consistently been that those who knew the leaders were touched by them, and sometimes those who know those who knew the leaders were affected, but as people got further and further from the source of the original experience, the teachings about the experience got stronger than the experience itself. Dogmas and rituals recalling the original experience took precedence. Individuals could not be trusted to have their own experience of the holy because it might differ from the founder's, and that would lead to chaos.

Christianity has developed that way, as have Islam, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and most of the other religions of the world. The structure seems to stifle the richness of individual experience. Mystics, who claim individual, personal experience of the holy are held to be suspect because that experience almost always leads them outside the agreed upon boundaries. It is not that the authorities are evil. They do their best to preserve as much as they can of what was originally inspiring, but they have responsibilities, and the more successful the religion, the more difficult its maintenance.

It is helpful to have someone who can tell you with authority what is true. But that knowledge pales in the face of what feels like a personal experience of the true. It is the difference between knowing something and knowing about it. [The Unitarian minister, Theodore Parker contrasted a century and a half ago between what he saw as the religion of Jesus and the religion about Jesus. It is, of course, hard to be sure at this distance what the religion of Jesus really was, and we must wonder if a religion appropriate for Palestine two centuries ago would serve in the modern world unchanged.]

Almost a century ago, in his Gifford Lectures, William James offered insights into the religious process that I do not believe we have grown beyond.

James pointed out how quickly we have tended to reject the claims of the mystics of the world. The problem is that when we look closely at how their experiences have transformed them, it is hard to reject them as "unreal." "That which produces effects within another reality, must be termed a reality itself. . .," James observed.

James pointed to the commonalities of the experiences of mystics in various times and places and traditions. While their experiences have variety - they are not identical, there is also a high level of commonality. Many appear to be talking about the same thing, even when the come from very different traditions. They point to the visible world as being only a part of the totality of existence, of a "more spiritual universe from which it draws its chief significance." They affirm that union with that "higher" universe is our ultimate goal in life, and that, along the way, communication with that spirit can produce energy and effects in this world. The result of such communication is a new zest for life, and consistently it seems to produce a new kind of peace, a kind of inner security, and an ability to deeply accept and love others.

Many mystics seem to attest to the oneness of humanity, and the interdependence of all life. The bigotry of most religions has no place in the mystic's experience. The distinctions between people lose all meaning. They affirm the transcending power of love. They are led to say such incomprehensible things as "love thy enemy," "Return good for evil," and the weird thing is that they seem to mean it. They aren't speaking code to be deciphered - they are speaking their vision of what is true. It's just that we are sure we know better and they couldn't mean to challenge us as much as they do. "What he must have meant was not really give up your riches to the poor, but just share some of the surplus when its convenient."

It is just fine and dandy for our Association to proclaim that we should be about "encouragement to spiritual growth" in our congregations, but can you imagine where that might lead?

There are certain clear steps in spiritual growth, and they seem rather in conflict with what we are about in our lives. The first is tough: renunciation - declaring that where you are is not where you want to be, and giving up the security of your present way of life.

There is a story about a professor of oriental studies who went to visit a Zen master. The professor was led into the presence of the master and the master began to pour tea. The professor began to talk, and kept talking about how excited he was to be there and how much he knew about how great the master was, and how well he understood what the masters teachings were about. The master kept pouring the tea as the cup overflowed and he kept on pouring until the professor noticed and cried, "Stop!" The master calmly observed, "Just as the cup cannot hold any more tea when it is filled, how can I give you anything when your mind is already filled?" Our minds are, of course, filled with truths that enable us to lead our daily lives - many of which truths may not be true. But are we ready to give them up?

Related to that is the commitment required for spiritual growth - it is not something that can be delivered in instant doses that will not disrupt your life. There were, for a time, those who believed that by paying a guru enough money for an instant mantra, they could find spiritual enlightenment in 20 minutes a day. It doesn't work like that. Genuine spiritual growth takes place in response to a commitment which says, "This is my first priority; all else pales in comparison to this need of mine to understand what is really true. Could you imagine how potential members of this congregation would respond if we were to suggest that instead of attending four two hour sessions to learn about the church, we were to require participation in weekly sessions for an entire year designed to encourage spiritual growth in our members? I suspect we would have few takers - at least among the population from which we have come. And who knows where such study would lead?

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I have, in my life, personally known only one person who was a mystic of the kind we are describing, and some of you met her too. In 1981 we had a visit from a woman who called herself "Peace Pilgrim." I've been thinking about her lately because I was contacted by Khashayar Darvich, a producer who is working on a documentary of her life for PBS, and our FUSION interview with her has some of the best footage of her available, so he has requested the right to use some of it in his program.

Peace decided in 1953 to set out on a pilgrimage for peace, pledging to walk 10,000 miles as a testimony to her commitment. She gave up all her possessions, including her former name. Wearing just a shirt, slacks, sneakers and a blue tunic saying "Peace Pilgrim," she set out walking - not knowing where she would sleep or where she would eat, but certain that what was needed would be provided. It was. Her original goal was extended to 25,000 miles, and she had long since passed that 28 years later when she visited us.

I have never experienced a person who radiated greater power or clarity. She knew who she was and what she was about. When people asked her age, she invariably told them that she had tired of getting older each year, so she stopped counting and stopped aging. I remember a young TV reporter who found it impossible to keep up with Peace as she walked along the bike path.

There was nothing complicated about Peace Pilgrim's message: "This is the way of peace - overcome evil with good, falsehood with truth, and hatred with love." Nothing at all complicated - except living it.

One of the stories Peace told was about a time when she was walking out of a town at sunset and a prosperous couple in a big house called her over to warn her about a place ahead called "South of the Border." "Avoid it at all costs," they told her. But all they had was advice - no offer of food or shelter. So she walked into the night. It started to rain and finally she saw a combination gas station, restaurant and motel ahead. She had ducked in by the gas pumps for shelter when a man came running out from the restaurant to invite her in for a meal - he had read about her in the paper. Another man, who owned the motel invited her to spend the night, and then they fed her breakfast in the morning. She was, of course, at "South of the Border." She contrasted the good people who offfered her advice with the people who gave her shelter.

Just a few weeks after her visit with us, Peace Pilgrim was killed in the crash of a car in which she was being given a ride. The "Friends of Peace Pilgrim" have continued to try to spread the gospel she taught, and have translated her writings into 24 languages and printed more than a million copies. (And they have duplicated and distributed the FUSION interview of her as a record of her pilgrimage.)

I envied Peace Pilgrim's peace, her clarity, her determination, her openness, her ability to reach out, the impact she had on so many people who were devoted to her - but you know, if I had the opportunity to have all that, I would not be willing to pay the price she paid. When asked if she had any children, Peace's response was:

I was not called into the family pattern. Most people are, by this thing we call falling in love, and then they act as a family unit. It was not my calling. There are a few people not called into the family pattern. "

I suggested at the outset of this sermon that while dichotomies can be useful, they are generally not as diverse as they appear. I think it was William Blake who suggested that what is important about polar opposites, what he called "contraries" is the pole that connects them. Either/or choices are easy and appealing for their simplicity - but what if we all became Peace Pilgrims? Who then would be there to welcome and feed and shelter us? We'd all be on the road.

And there is a problem in that some of those who believe they have had a direct connection to God are truly insane and destructive - remember Jim Jones and David Koresh!!! Mystics are not inherently trustworthy.

The greater challenge than all of us trying to become mystics is finding ways that we can blend the two dimensions of the world to create the seemingly oxymoronic spiritual materialism or material spirituality.

As I understand it, "encouragement to spiritual growth" does not mean seeking to turn everybody into a mystic. It has to do with providing a sanctuary, a place, a community in our materialistic culture in which people are encouraged to seek their own path to understanding - where values are held up for examination and consideration which are not the celebration of owning and owing, but rather those which point to meaning and transcendent value.

The "encouragement of spiritual growth" is tied in our principles to "acceptance of one another" because of the fundamental truth that we will not all grow spiritually in the same way. Two years ago, we did a survey of the congregation which demonstrated how diverse are the languages of spirituality which we use. There is always the very human danger of deciding that "My spirituality is more spiritual than your spirituality," in which case the spirituality of us all is threatened. We are not all the same. We have no authority to judge one another. But we do have the opportunity to encourage one another to explore ideas and options that we might not discover alone.

We need to remember that the spirituality of the mystics like Peace Pilgrim and Thomas Merton is not the only kind. There is the very different naturalistic spirituality of Albert Einstein who, while using a different frame of reference, nonetheless points beyond materialism to a world of meaning.

The spiritual growth that Unitarian Universalism seeks to encourage is not one that is irrational or supernatural, but one that is richer in its experience of the world in all of its depth and complexity.

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