Sermons

 READING ~ We are the Myth Makers, by Chelan Harkin
We are the myth makers, 
our lives are pens
writing with our movements, our steps,
our actions, every touch
the stories we’re hoping to record
into the world.

What are the styles of relating
we hope to inscribe?
What is the tone
of our presence here
as we walk this soft earth?

Women, what stories
would we like to tell
about our selves,
about our sisterhood,
about our strength?

Men, what stories would you
like to tell
about gentleness and power
coexisting
about the great courage
it takes to love?

Humanity, what stories
do we want to tell
about the grand journey
to finally opening our hearts
to each other?

Darling, it’s time to put
our heads together and consider:
how beautiful
dare we make
this world?
 

HOMILY

Good morning. This homily comes with a disclaimer. I’ve been told – more than once – that I can overindulge in the use of metaphor. After writing and rewriting this talk, it is still a prime example. Please bear with me.

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” I’ve been captivated by this Didion quote for decades now. We all define our lives through the lens of story. Whether we see ourselves as heroes or victims, good people or bad, everyone lives according to interwoven strands of narrative. And yet, how do we shape our stories into a meaningful narrative? What exists in us beyond the realm of story telling? And why story telling is still so essential? These are the questions I’ve been contemplating this month.

We begin forming our life’s stories at a very early age, long before we have a sense of narrative, even before our capacity for understanding concepts. Our first, most basic stories come from our parents and extended family, and we inherit many of their assumptions and beliefs. But at some point in our lives, most of us inquire into whether those stories are still valid, whether they still work for us. Until we do, our life doesn’t fully belong to us. And there are others – politicians, authority figures, cultural leaders, who are more than eager for us to write our story based on their belief structures and world view.  It takes courage, perseverance and grace to write our own.

Even when we have been able to identify the scripts we inherited… and we’ve chosen what works for us and what to lay aside… deciding what parts of our stories are important to include in our narrative takes some discernment. It takes time alone, time to think, time to contemplate what’s important. Most of us are so busy with work, raising children, attending to relationships, that life can seem to flash by too quickly to form a meaningful storyline. Our life at times can feel like  a series of episodes in a sitcom. If we let it, this can become another way of allowing others to write our story, tell us what’s important..

But life is so much more than episodic. Finding the narrative line that gives our life meaning, requires finding and remembering our True North, what’s most important to us that can guide us through the peaks and valleys of life. Without this holdfast, life can feel like all plot, no theme.

When I was in my early 30s, I tried writing the Great American Lesbian Novel. I  had had a couple of short stories published, but I knew nothing about writing a long work. I had what I thought was a brilliant idea, a story line, but I didn’t have an outline, or even a complete story arc. Basically I didn’t know what essential message I wanted the idea to communicate. I just started writing and hoped that the characters would show me where to go. After several months of work, I had written myself into a pretty tight corner. I didn’t have the patience or skill to dig myself out, and I abandoned the project.

Talk about a metaphor. Story is important, plot is important, but without a core value, an essential guiding principle, our life stories can meander without meaning. If we want the story of our lives to have meaning, we need to know what’s important to us.

I used to be jealous of people who knew what they wanted to be by the time they were 5 or 6. Whether doctor or artist, there are people who seem to come in to this life with their story already mapped out, their most important thing hardwired and knowable. I never knew what I wanted to be. But I look back now and realize what a gift that was, that not knowing. It allowed me to ask those big, existential questions at a young age.

Most often, and certainly for me, we learn about ourselves from asking those confusing, thorny questions. What is my place in the universe? What is God? What does it mean to be a “good person”? What the hell is going on here? The answers seldom arrive – IF they arrive –  through what I call “the normal channels” of the mind. If an inkling of an “aha” does come, it feels more like revelation than knowledge.

Asking those tough questions and being open to revelation: it’s up hill work. Not because the questions are difficult – they are, but they can also be sort of fun. It’s because we live in a culture that thrives on us avoiding the questions, avoiding our inner life.

How do we begin to notice how we are shaped by the cultural stories we live and breathe every day? How do we begin to differentiate these stories from our own? For us not to be swept away by the tsunami of misinformation, the shaming and judgement of others so prevalent on social media, by the daily assault on our nervous system and demands on our time, it is essential to find, remember, and practice daily living from the heart of our own story, our True North.

What’s the most important thing in your life? It may not be the first thing that pops into your head. Discovering your most important thing may take some investigation; it may take telling your stories to find the theme.

The most important thing can change throughout your life. We all have phases in life during which different things are important. There are certain aspects that sustain their importance throughout a whole lifetime, and there are things that play themselves out, leading us to move on to the next thing.

The most important thing right now could be finishing school, it could be remaining clean and sober, it could be raising happy, kind children. But whatever you think is your most important thing, a great next question is: Why? You may be surprised to find out that there’s some intention or desire or goal behind your answer. And perhaps another more important thing behind that.

Inquiring into your most important thing can sometimes show you where you have focused on what is not important. There are so many stories of a journey, following the north star, being blown off course, having adventures both brilliant, strange and challenging. But in the stories, most of them anyway, at some point the traveler remembers where they were headed in the first place. It might take a long time before they remember that north star, remember where they were headed. Or they learn that where they were headed at the beginning is not the true destination; that there’s a more important end to the journey. Usually, at some points in our lives, a re-orienting follows when we contemplate that essential, core driving force of our lives. Telling our stories… our TRUEST, most important stories… often requires some re-writing.

Regularly checking to see if your story needs a re-write can start anywhere. How do your friendships and partnerships support what’s important? Do you love what you spend your time doing?  What is your spiritual life oriented around? Is that your important thing?

Milan Kundera wrote:
Life speaks to us about itself through its story… The stories we live comprise the mythology of our lives and in that mythology lies the key to truth and mystery.
When I look back and reflect upon this idea of the thing that orients my life, my source of inspiration and aspiration, the most important thing… it’s all about questions. It sounds strange to say out loud… but it seems like my most important thing has been the search for my most important thing.

Throughout my time studying to be a minister, I was asked to write my spiritual autobiography several times. This is a great vehicle for discerning what’s important in a life. What I discovered is that most of my life’s story is a series of deep inquiries, as I wrestle with questions that point me toward a better understanding of that elusive, mysterious, most important thing. There are times when I rest and regroup, enjoying the fruits of my labor. But eventually, I see a little bit further down the path, and another inquiry into the essential qualities of a meaningful life has me in its thrall again. And once again, as hard as it is at times to sit, go within and pay attention, that’s where the possibility of revelation of grace reveal themselves.

What is a meaningful life? What are the essential qualities of my True North?  I identify meaning as spiritual development, service, developing true compassion and love, and, however imperfectly, doing the best I can wherever I am. Then, whatever happens in the future, over which I have no control, I will have lived rich, meaningful life. I have felt fully alive.

Earlier this month, Ellie Daniels led a service in Belfast where she talked about her most important thing: Music. She said,
We live in chaotic times, with so much uncertainty and tension…it takes effort to keep the threads of hope and joy intact. We are compelled at this time to return to our center, to the core of our being, the solid and miraculous junction between our breathing, heartbeating, cellular body and the spirit of life, our soul.
Thank you, Ellie, for that beautiful description of the joys of living from your True North.

Returning to that “solid and miraculous junction” is the work of a spiritual warrior, a peaceful warrior for the human spirit. In this hyper-aggressive, slandering, killing field that is our current culture, contemplating our most important thing, even if we never find a definitive answer, becomes our North star. How do we know what to do that is of greatest benefit? On that endless path of discovery, the search for what’s  important is the guide on the path, a rudder to help us steer. It helps us navigate the world and how we respond to it. It helps us cultivate a willingness to trust in the unknown, the Mystery, which makes it  easier to navigate these troubled waters. And in doing so, day by day, the narrative of our life’s story is written from an enlivened sense of purpose and meaning.

“People tell themselves stories in order to live.” When we find the meaningful narrative of our lives, something truly worth living for, the current of all the creeks and streams of our disparate experiences join the river of a mighty life. Then, whatever we are called to do, wherever the river takes us, our lives are infused with the particles of love and service, compassion and community; that make up our intention. And as we make decisions that keep our True North in our sights, our lives themselves become a guiding light for others.

Because it turns out, surprise surprise, that the most important thing isn’t the story, it’s not the content or the destination. It’s how we travel the world of our lives; it is our True North.  We may never know how the story affects another, but that’s not the point. What matters is that we’re moving forward with the wind at our backs and our essential Truth at the helm. And when we do, we stop seeking joy, seeking love, seeking peace. We begin to realize we are joy, we are love, we are peace.

And boy, do we have a story to tell.

May it be so. And so it is. Amen.