Sermons

READING ~ Listening Is an Act of the Heart by Leslie Takahashi

One: Listening is not an act of the ear, listening is an act of the heart.

Many: In these times when so much speaks: outrage, anger, disillusionment.

One: Rage is a constant cry. Derision has found his voice. The despair of the fair and faithful speaks fast and often. The whisper of despair grows into a keening lament.

Many: Open our hearts to the real fears of those who have known hate because they are our guides to its insidious expansiveness.

One: Open our memories to those ancestors of our spirits who were love-seekers, peace-makers, truth-guiders, system-questioners. And listen, because—

Many: Listening is an act of our hearts.

One: Do not ignore the soul pain of the ones who move through the hardest nights, who face the denial of their rights and the desecration of their humanity. Do not forget those too dispossessed of a language of mastery and the countless forms of life who do not count humanity as their family and yet who are within our larger circle of interdependence.

Many: Open our hearts to the true threats that many feel.

One: Open our minds to the anguish of those who need accompaniment.

Many: Open our memories to those who came before us and taught us how to create new forms of love out of the old worn patterns.

One: And listen, because—

Many: Listening is an act of our hearts.

All: Listening is an act of our hearts.

 

READING ~ Interfaith Service – Interfaith Justice “When Dialogue is Not Enough” by Cody Nielsen
Interfaith dialogue is not going to change the most extreme individuals in our society. It’s not going to change them because they are not the audience that participates in this “dialogue.” The only way to have even a chance of shifting their mindset, of being able to help them see anything that might alter their beliefs, is through a systematic, environmental, and ecological shift in the very fabric of our society, starting within our social institutions and organizations, as well as levels of state, local, and national government.
 

SERMON

“We the people are all in this together.”
“Our future depends on cooperating to create new institutions that support us in caring for and living within the means of a finite living Earth.”

Words from David Korten who is, among other things, a progressive political activist, economist, and co-founder of Yes! Magazine. He’s been through a whole lot of change and strife in his 85 years of life. Now he is telling us that our future depends on cooperation. Well, friends, right now, that seems like a distant possibility. I do not disagree with David Korten’s assertion. I simply lack confidence that we will find that cooperation on a scale large enough to create the institutions and systems that will support the interdependent web of existence.

When I think about cooperation, I think about the prerequisite that people can talk with each other in honesty and good faith.

Americans are having difficulty coming together in conversation and cooperation.
Have you noticed?

I’m not here today to describe the divide among Americans. You already know it and feel it every day. Bridging that divide is another thing all together.

We might wonder whether bridging the divide is even worthwhile. Why not just continue to set up our camps on our side of the chasm and turn our backs toward those on the opposite side? Why indeed?

Well, a couple of reasons.
As David Korten reminds us – we really are all in this together and ignoring the differences in how we live, what we believe, and what we will pursue with heart, mind and soul will not result in a country we want to inhabit and leave to the next seven generations. We could easily end up with everything we don’t want and nothing we do want.

The second reason is that as human beings we need connections. We are hard-wired to be relational. One of my UU minister colleagues was asked by a friend of hers what she misses most since the onset of Covid. Her answer? Connections. I didn’t expect that answer, but as I thought it I began to see how right she is. We need to be in relationship with other beings – human and non-human.

As we retreat farther and farther into divided camps with trenches marking the boundaries between us, we lose more and more connections. This is difficult at best. For many of us, the divides are separating us from beloved friends and family members.

How many of us can think of a friend or a family member whose world view and political/religious/cultural/ philosophical positions are so radically different from our own that we just step back a little bit from the relationship and declare, “I just can’t talk with them anymore. I don’t want to hear that crap and I don’t like to think about how awful it is that they believe that nonsense.” Never mind that perhaps they say the same about us. The divide is self-replicating.

We also know that the first step toward restoring connection is, in fact, talking with each other.
Dialogue.

And you know what? I’m all for it. The more people who engage with others across their differences and divides through dialogue, the better our chances are that we might have peaceful coexistence and a productive society that works to the benefit of all.

Sometimes, however, dialogue is not enough.
Sometimes, dialogue is not possible because there are not willing participants in the dialogue process.
Sometimes dialogue falls apart because participants simply can’t come together with dignity and respect for each other as human beings.

I fear that we are living in a time when dialogue is failing to be a tool of positive change or of even building a tiny wobbly bridge between people who have built their fortresses on opposite sides of the canyon of opinion and belief. It is both infuriating and heart-breaking. We crave connection and we still find ourselves unable to make those connections.

So ….. what do we do when dialogue is not enough?
What do we do when dialogue is really just the already powerful and privileged asking those with less power and privilege to settle for whatever they are granted? This type of dialogue perpetuates the status quo of injustice.

Here’s the thing, dear ones ……. Dialogue, however well-constructed or well-intentioned, is not enough when justice is being delayed and therefore denied. Now, real courage is necessary to make the change we wish to see in the world.
Real courage is necessary because at times like this we cannot compromise or capitulate to the already powerful and privileged.

Dialogue is not enough when it comes to making sure that Black lives matter.
They do.
Dialogue is not enough when it comes to making sure workers have a safe workplace and a fair wage.
They must.
Dialogue about torture will not end it.
It must end.
Dialogue is not enough when it comes to assuring equity and justice for immigrants, LGBTQ persons, people of color, poor people, and non-Christians.
Justice must come.
Dialogue is not enough when our climate is collapsing.
Change must be achieved.

Justice cannot not wait. People are dying.
This is the time when we muster the courage of our convictions and move with all the determination and strength we can muster among those with whom we are in solidarity. And yes, we need compassion too. Compassion keeps us from falling into a nasty hole of disregard for the humanity of our adversaries.

It is a grave mistake to think that dialogue will persuade radical people to come together for the good of the whole.
Cody Nielsen, of Interfaith America, makes a distinction between service and justice. His domain is interfaith work, but his observations apply almost everywhere.
He says,
“But to think [dialogue] is the solution to our society’s hate is surely misguided. Yes, the people that choose to get engaged in “interfaith dialogue” are certainly changed, but most people who participate are predisposed, born into a generation and raised in households that are generally accepting of all forms of what our organization calls religious, secular, and spiritual. At the outset, they are more likely to be curious, critical, and engaged. We encourage them to form clubs and groups with those predisposed individuals and we help them to know each other better. All this is good, but the people choosing to engage are not the ones who are terrorizing our communities.”

The ones who are terrorizing our communities – literally and through law and policy – are unlikely to be moved by dialogue.
We take a position about what justice requires and we work like hell to achieve it.

Cody goes on to say,
“In many ways, it feels to me that we’ve been doing the “service” versus “justice” approach to the issues of religious, secular, and spiritual inclusion. In the “service” corner is “interfaith dialogue.” It’s hip, sexy, and easy to document. You get people together, do a project together, have a little get-to-know-you gathering, sing around the fire, and everyone goes home happy.
The “justice” model, the systematic policy and practice model, requires something different. It doesn’t justify its outcomes by what happens in one day, nor does it allow itself to claim success simply through “understanding.” The “justice” approach sets visible markers of inclusion within its ecosystem.”

The justice approach sets visible markers of inclusion and then we work without ceasing to achieve those markers. We need the courage of perseverance and persistence. It takes time and coordinated, consistent effort to replace injustice with justice. What we need is systemic transformation and that requires the courage to stay the course and to keep going even when the going gets tough and nasty – as it surely will. Courage doesn’t just happen. We work for it. And we share it. The moral and physical courage to know the right thing and do it is contagious. One person can embody that courage and a few others can “catch” it and internalize it. We need each other to maintain the courage needed for the long haul work toward justice.

Maybe the people who are terrorizing our communities will change their positions. We can’t expect that, and we can’t wait for that, but, we do know that people change through personal stories that first open hearts and minds. Dialogue may well be necessary, but it is often not sufficient and by itself, it is not enough.

The Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis, senior minister for public theology and transformation, at Middle Church in NYC, preaches, teaches, and lives a fierce love.
Fierce Love is a Bold Path to Ferocious Courage and Rule-Breaking Kindness That Can Heal the World.

A ferocious courage with Rule-breaking kindness. That’s a real compelling combination. She teaches us to be together in our practice of fierce love. This is no time to try to go it alone.
May we, them, be among those who come together to embody this combination of ferocious courage and rule-breaking kindness as we practice fierce love in the pursuit of justice – for all.

Now, I want to add a sort of personal note here because it is all too easy to demonize our adversaries in this work. It is all too easy to conclude that the work is all too hard. It is all too easy to trivialize the efforts of others who pursue a different path toward justice.

When I was reading what Cody Neilsen is saying about the difference between working with service and working for justice. He disparages what he calls service dialogue as being little more than dressing up and having coffee together. Well, here are his words….
“You get people together, do a project together, have a little get-to-know-you gathering, sing around the fire, and everyone goes home happy. “

Dialogue, he says, can be hip and sexy. We do one project together, sing around the fire and everyone feels like they accomplished something tremendous and then we all go home. We feel better, but no systemic transformation results.

I started thinking about that description. It’s sort of like “engagement lite.” We talk, talk, talk – hold hands – sing. We feel good about ourselves and each other. We go home all warm and fuzzy. Nothing really changes. I’ve been part of those gatherings more often than I’d like to admit.

There’s a new name – a disparaging slang name – for these sorts of gatherings.
Do you know where I’m going? It comes from the song we sing around the campfire. Anyone?

Even President Obama referred to a sort of surface-only with no real depth endeavor when describing the difficulty and complexity of brokering a peace deal in the Middle East.
“This can’t be reduced to somehow a matter of let’s all hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya.” Ouch.

Kum By Ya.
That’s the song we sing around the campfire, holding hands and swaying while actually accomplishing nothing?
I beg to differ. I don’t like what’s happened to this African American protest and prayer song.

When the sacred becomes profane, meaning is lost.
This song – Kum By Ya – comes from the African American experience of oppression. We do harm by making a joke of it. We trivialize suffering. We trivialize oppression. Then we trivialize efforts to come together in prayer and protest to work like hell for justice.

I’m just about to invite you all to close our time together by standing together and singing this song. No holding hands or swaying required.
Here is what I want to put in your minds and hearts.
The words really are Come By Here. How did it get to be Kum By Ya? Don’t know. One theory is that white people overheard Black people singing this song and they did not hear Come By Here – they heard something else and just made up the sounds – Kum Ba Ya. White people taking something from Black people to make it their own.

The song became widely popular as a lament, a protest, a prayer during the time of Jim Crow. It may well be much older. Some scholars think this is a slave song from the Sea Islands off the coast of South Carolina and Georgia … carried from there in the oral tradition throughout the Jim Crow south and into the campfire songbooks many of us grew up with.

Let me suggest something. Dialogue sometimes is not enough and then we need to muster the moral and physical courage to act without ceasing. A danger is to allow the courage of our convictions to extinguish our sense of humanity. Compassion keeps us from doing that. This song – Come By Here, Lord – is a way back into the humanity of all.

Imagine, if you will, the somebody in each verse is a real living person. Could be a person on our side of the canyon and it just as easily might be someone on the other side; somebody who is totally and possibly violently opposed to us and our work. Still, that somebody is held by the same Love that holds you and me. Ours is a fierce love that holds everyone while pursuing justice without pause.

This song requests the presence of Love to come by here – right here – among us. Love holds all the suffering and all the oppression. It holds the one who prays, the one who sings, the one who weeps, the one who laughs and the one who dances. It is us and it is them.

Let’s sing together with heart and soul – asking Love to come by here and hold all the somebodies – those on both sides the deep divide.

May it be so.

Blessed Be. I Love You. Amen.