Sermons

Preacher: Amy Fiorilli

“My first step from the old white man . . . was the trees.” Process theologians David Ray Griffin and John B. Cobb are quoted as saying, “Indeed, God seems to be the archetype of the dominant, inflexible, unemotional, completely independent (read strong) male. Process theology denies the existence of this God”. And so do I. I feel a kinship with process thinking because it is grounded in experience and scientific discovery, born out of quantum physics and Einstein’s theory of relativity. It is all about a relationship that supports the notion of a God that does not exist outside of the laws of the natural world. “My first step from the old white man…was the trees.” Mine was probably the stars. Looking up into the vastness and beauty and realizing there was no cloudy heaven somewhere beyond, just stars and light and space. When I was little, I was scared a lot. I remember the first time I realized I was going to die some day. I spent way too much time after that in deep existential terror, the fear of nonexistence, too young to make sense of it and too old to believe in the fairy tale of a bearded grandpa God and the pearly gates. I wanted to. I tried hard to have it make sense. And as I grew even my basic understanding of the natural world made the cognitive dissonance of such a belief too great. And yet…I have never lost my faith in the something, a something that encompasses all things, a something greater than myself, loving and present. I know It exists, and I am comfortable referring to this it, as God. And I understand and respect that many are not. Still this knowing, has helped me through some of the scariest, darkest moments of my life. Leaving a job unexpectedly because of a boss I was afraid of, and finding a lump and waiting for the ultrasound.

My faith is based in a belief in interconnection and the energy in and among us all. In fact I could argue that we are all nothing but energy, moving and changing forms but never ceasing. So to me, prayer is a way to tap into that energy.

When I pray I feel held and comforted. Not by a father figure firm and wise, or even a mother of protective nurturing but by a something, a heavy, homemade patchwork quilt maybe, it lands secure and warm on my shoulders and wraps me up from head to toe in a feeling of all is well, and all is well and all manner of things shall be well. I can imagine that my prayers call down Grandma Annie’s net of love and in a moment I am reminded of my part in the fabric that connects us all to each other. “Be not afraid for I am with you” and “Be still and know” are powerful resonant messages from my Christian roots, that frequently raise me out of fear and loneliness. It is more to me than a convenient belief I’ve constructed to avoid fear. I see, taste, listen and feel that the source of all is still here moving with and through and in everything. This something is gentle and subtle sometimes, at others it is passionate and intense as I revel in the pure joy of being alive. Process theology defines God’s power in the world as persuasive not coercive, not omnipotent or omniscient, because we have free will. Our future choices can’t be known and can’t be controlled only responded to. In ANW’s words this God “is the poet of the world, with tender patience leading it by a vision of truth, beauty, and goodness.”

Isn’t that what grandma Annie was doing, helping to lead the sufferers to wholeness. They had to make that leap, that climb, they had to realize their own strength, they had to choose it and they climbed and leaped and landed into something greater than themselves, within a net of love, ready to cast it out again to others. That’s what I want my ministry to be. That’s what I want my life to be. A continual invitation to love, to wholeness. I often fall short, and I imagine that will continue to be true but I want my choices, my words, my actions, my beliefs to be always weaving another loop in that net, reaching farther and farther out into the world.

Celie from the color purple, was a young black girl who was raped by her step father, forced to have two of his children and give them up. then later beaten by her husband. Throughout her life she wrote letters to God…praying asking why? Letting her faith tear apart her self esteem, Feeling that a good girl obeys her father and her husband and stays in marriages and “bears” suffering as though that must be God’s will. It is not. Suffering of this kind is not redemptive and does not lead to salvation, because this kind of suffering can not result in wholeness for Celie or anyone else.

Though Celie is a fictional character, I imagine that each of us can think of someone, perhaps ourselves, who have been hurt by the words and or dogma of a religion used rigidly and insensitively. sin, evil, damnation, salvation, holy, divine, redemption can be important words in a life of searching and meaning making, and yet they have been used so badly and with such harm that often they are avoided all together by those who might need them most. That seems deeply unfortunate to me.

I am sick and tired of religion being used as a tool for control, shame and hatred. I am sick and tired of the trauma caused by misunderstanding the message of love inherent in every major religious tradition. Imagine a little girl being brutally and continually violated . . . writing to God and asking why . . .? Knowing deep in her heart that something is wrong and when given no other answer blames herself. Why have we created a world in which humanity has such a hard time listening to their own ways of knowing…the deep inherent ways of, intuition, the seeing, tasting, feeling of deep attention to the wisdom within our own hearts. When did we decide someone else gets to decide for us? Do this, say that, love this person, not that person and on and on…and you will get to heaven or you will suffer forever in damnation. There is no room for this kind of destructive fear in Unitarian Universalism, and neither is there room for it in process thought. There shouldn’t be room for it anywhere. And so I want to use these words, I want to speak the language in order to connect with those who may misuse it. What if a new interpretation could help heal? What if we weren’t afraid of these words and instead proudly and bravely claimed their power to heal and their application to love. We are all becoming, hopefully becoming our best selves, our most authentic selves . . . our whole selves. Not our most tired selves, lazy selves, angry selves. Be brave. Love well. Respect the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Take care of our earth. Seek truth. These are the wholeness choices I hope we live by.

How many of us have made choices to suffer unnecessarily out of some sense of obligation, or lack of trust in our own knowing? How often have we listened to the judgments of others, and completely disregarded our own intuition and chosen to let fear decide for us. How many of us have felt forced to hide our true selves, our true beliefs, our big and wondrous love in order to be “safe” or to make someone else comfortable? How many times have we forgotten that by choosing to be whole ourselves we allow others to be the same? We are all connected. We do not have relationships. . . . . we are relationships. This is Monica Coleman’s intense view of interconnection, we CAN NOT exist outside of our relationships to other beings. Nothing in this world does. And this is another way to be responsible for our own choices and to understand how we are affected by others. We feel the energy of courage and love and joy. We feel the energy of hatred and fear and destruction. And the energy of creation (CREATIVITY in fact is the ultimate reality in process thought, not God) means that there is this eternal hopefulness in the existence of continued novelty and new possibilities. No matter how many eons of life have been present, there are still new things happening, new discoveries, new songs and poems and paintings. While we can’t undo the destruction, the pain and the loss already suffered. I do believe that if we listen closely, we can hear the lure of the world, of the earth . . . persuading us toward new solutions and greater joy for all. Dr. Glenn Turner Rideout in his poem he presented at GA said, God is at least a verb. And this is what I think he meant. God working quietly, tenderly, with patience and consistency, leading us to the kingdom of heaven present in every moment.

And when we are wronged by another . . . when we have wronged ourselves (sinned if youwill) what then? Forgiveness . . . forgiveness Marjorie Suchocki says, is the key to salvation and we’ve complicated the heck out of it. What if forgiveness is nothing more than the active committed practice of willing the well being of the other. No warmth of feeling, no necessary interaction, no struggling to find compassion even . . . just “I will my violator to be whole”. Knowing that it is wholeness that will heal the world. Forgiveness allows me to move forward and let the violation live in the past where it belongs. May all beings be whole, no exceptions.

(Can you take a moment with me now . . . and call to mind someone, some group some regret of your own, what and who can you not forgive . . . imagine some representation of them standing before you know or simply in your mind, invite them to be whole, will their well being. . . .) May all beings be whole . . . From the little Syrian boy in the back of the ambulance, with his lost and quiet stare, to the person who ordered the bombings, to the man with the gun contemplating the worst, to the woman who in mental illness and anguish drowned her children, to the drug addict, and the dealer, to the angry teacher, and the confused child to all of us sitting right here, right now. May all beings be whole. And that is salvation, The peace and love where all things holy rest.

We are not human beings, we are human becomings . . . We do not have relationships, we ARE relationships. One of the things I have promised myself on this journey into ministry, is that I won’t stop learning. I won’t let new information scare me into ignoring it. I want discovery and challenge and question to enliven and enrich my faith, even if it hurts. Even if it is uncomfortable. Whatever I have, let it be real, and let me never forget that there is no end to the process of becoming. A vital person, a vital community, a vibrant and relevant faith asks what do we believe and why? How does it help us be better people, how does it move us and inspire us into healing and action? What purpose does that belief serve in your life? And whether it’s Judaism, Paganism, Islam, or Atheism, Buddhism, Christianity or other…as long as the ultimate truth of your path leads to harmony and wholeness for All Things then really we are all speaking the same language anyway.

To me, God just is, like air and earth and stars, dynamic, magnetic, real. Not a righteous bearded man, angry and vengeful, with supernatural powers, who is miserly with his miracles. But a presence of connection, love and hope, an energy that calls us to notice the color purple, the miracles that exist all around us.

Let us not shrink from the adventure of the spirit we are called to. Let us climb the ladder to the moon and throw our net of love over the entire universe.

May It Forever Be So.