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The west was getting out of gold,
The breath of air had died of cold,
When shoeing home across the white,
I thought I saw a bird alight. Read more →
“Seeing systems of oppression cracks our hearts open to the plight of others. Seeing our place in those systems breaks our hearts open to the plight within.”
While many religious traditions come together in shared theological beliefs about the divine, our tradition calls us together in shared beliefs about how it is we will be together. We hold central a theology of wholeness. That wholeness requires we move beyond acceptance of diversity to an embracing of all people because of their diversity.
To achieve this in a world in which “othering” has occurred for centuries requires us to dismantle systems of oppression which give privilege to the mainstream white/Euro culture. To transform these systems, each of us is called to recognize and understand our place in the very system we must dismantle.
Step Three: “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.”
People say this step is a great tool in pain management—asking a person to turn her or his will and life over to the care of God, as we understood Him. In my alcoholic bottom I cringed when I first heard this approach. I said, “This is not what Dr. King taught. Dr. King taught people to sacrifice in order to help make the world a better place.”
For me AA’s, “Let Go and Let God,” conjured what Catholic Bishops working on the side of the landed elite told the peasants of Latin America.
“We…covenant to promote and affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person.”
—Purposes and Principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association
Unitarian Universalists hold justice to be a particularly important aspect of right relationships among human beings. Among the Principles and Purposes that UU congregations covenant together to affirm and promote are “justice, equity and compassion in human relations,” and “the goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all.” And among the sources from which our living tradition draws, we lift up “words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love.”
But how can we temper justice with mercy?
“I have heard it said that illness is an attempt to escape the truth. I suspect it is actually an attempt to embody the whole truth, to remember all of ourselves. For illness is not something that happens to us, like a sudden sneeze or a passing storm; it is a part of who we are all the time.”
—Kat Duff, The Alchemy of Illness
When we become ill, we discover what it means to be a human “being” as opposed to a human “doing.” There can be extraordinary guilt when we realize all the things we assume about ourselves when we are healthy are no longer true. Whether it is a temporary set-back (when recovery is likely) or a chronic condition (which can only be managed, not cured) illness challenges us to see ourselves in a new light and to accept our humanness.
“The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart.”
—Albert Camus
Sisyphus was a Greek god famous for his trickery and deceit. When he died he was condemned by the gods to roll an enormous rock to the top of a mountain every day for all eternity. Every day he would roll it up the mountain and then the rock would roll back down to the bottom.
Albert Camus likened Sisyphus to an absurd hero; because he knows what will happen after the rock is rolled to the top, yet he remains content in doing so. What the gods intended as punishment, Sisyphus does not see as such.
Our faith teaches us that we are seekers. There are no definitive answers. There is no correct path. In this way, our faith demands a lot from us. Our faith does not give us a savior, we must find our own.
The same is true of mental illness. It is a journey. There are no definitive answers. There is no correct path. Our illnesses demand a lot from us. There are no universally guaranteed medications or treatments; we must find what works for us.
“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.”
—Romans 12:9-10 (NRSV)
In his letter to the new Christian church in Rome, Paul advises a community struggling to maintain positive and loving relationships following a period of upheaval. His words resound through the ages as an admonition to treat each other with respect and affection, to honor one another.
As Unitarian Universalists we take this advice seriously. As a community of faith we covenant to honor each other even in disagreement and to recognize the inherent worth and dignity of every person.
In a relationship that includes one partner exerting undue power and control over the other, these admonitions and shared wisdom seem to be distant dreams. One party is habitually dishonored and the other loses a piece of humanity by terrorizing the other with threats and, too often, real violence.
“Caregiving is a defining moral practice. It is a practice of empathic imagination, responsibility, witnessing and solidarity with those in great need. It is a moral practice that makes caregivers, and at times even the care receivers, more present, and thereby more fully human.”
—Dr. Arthur Kleinman, Harvard Medical School Professor and primary caregiver for his wife, Joan
Based on what we know about Alzheimer’s disease and the observations we may make with “eyes to see but do not see” and “ears to hear but do not hear,” we could erroneously conclude that the potential and purpose of persons with Alzheimer’s is all used up. In order to discover their potential and purpose, we must look at them with the “fresh” eyes of one who is looking for the holy. Then, it is up to us—those who know and love persons with Alzheimer’s—to reveal their value so the rest of the world can also see and appreciate them.
“What people here experienced in the years after Katrina was unique in countless ways—just as the storm and its aftereffects was a disaster unprecedented in U.S. history. But what we have seen are heightened struggles over the same concerns faced by folks everywhere: education, health care, housing, workers’ rights, criminal justice, and the privatization of public services and resources.”
—Jordan Flaherty, Floodlines: Community and Resistance from Katrina to the Jena Six
A disaster strikes fiercely and suddenly. It shatters our homes and property. It puts an end to many community services. It plays havoc with our interiors. A disaster leads people into and through stages of despair. Our once-so-comfortable-existence is replaced with anger, grief, frustration, and confusion. Looking back, I now see this after the disaster calamity as a null zone. In many cases a null zone impinges into the life of those who try to reconstitute themselves after the disaster.
The basic human instinct to recover, return, and rebuild motivates people after the disaster. Unfortunately, the situation around them is not normal; in fact, it is far from being anything like “normal.”
Tragic images,
a crying sound in my ear,
and I turn to ice.
Have you ever felt frozen after hearing the news of a traumatic event or catastrophe After the sadness and reality of the situation have settled in, you’ve probably also experienced the sinking feeling that there isn’t anything you can do to “fix” the problem.
We hate acknowledging that difficult truth.
Coming face to face with existential powerlessness turns our worldview upside-down. It confronts a sense of security that we depend on and, in fact, spend much of our time trying to build.
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Quest for Meaning is a program of the Church of the Larger Fellowship (CLF).
As a Unitarian Universalist congregation with no geographical boundary, the CLF creates global spiritual community, rooted in profound love, which cultivates wonder, imagination, and the courage to act.