The Kindness Challenge A sermon by Rev. Fred Small First Parish in Cambridge, Unitarian Universalist October 13, 2013

Transcription

1 The Kindness Challenge A sermon by Rev. Fred Small First Parish in Cambridge, Unitarian Universalist October 13, 2013 Of the great folksingers of my youth, none thrilled me more than Judy Collins. From bracing protest like It Isn t Nice and In the Heat of the Summer to wistful ballads like Suzanne and My Father, the music of Judy Collins was my constant companion through the 1960s. Then, in 1973, Judy covered a tune that made me doubt my fandom. Cook with Honey, the very first cut on her album True Stories and Other Dreams, seemed to me to epitomize the simplistic sentimentality of certain early 1970s culture. To the lilting accompaniment of acoustic guitar and bongo drum, its sing-song chorus cheerily proclaimed: I always cook with honey To sweeten up the night We always cook with honey Tell me, how's your appetite For some sweet love But it was the second verse that did me in: Finding favor with your neighbor Well, it can be so fine It's easier than pie to be kind Now, I might eventually have found it in my heart to forgive the phrase easier than pie in a song for adults. As a songwriter myself, I ve written plenty of lines I later regretted. But even at age 21, I knew: it is not easier than pie to be kind. Not easier than pie when I m driving, late for an appointment, and there s a car parked in the middle of the street blocking my way. Not easier than pie when a salesclerk is chatting on his cellphone and when he finally gives me his attention he knows nothing about the stock in the store. Sorry, Judy. Kindness is not easier than pie. For most of us, much of the time, kindness is hard. Not only is kindness hard. For many of us, if we re honest, it s kind of a lesser virtue. Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzberg admits that, for her, kindness used to have an also-ran quality[; it was] the kind of characteristic you cultivate if tougher, finer things like wisdom elude 1

2 you. Growing up, she says, Salzberg had the impression that a kind heart ranked awfully low in cultural desirability, well after a sound head, a sharp wit, invulnerability, power over others, a fine sense of irony, and countless other qualities. Those of us dedicated to justice can be impatient with kindness. I mean, sure, Mother Teresa was kind, but why she didn t work to end poverty rather than just putting a band aid on it? Sure, Aunt Trudy is kind, but why doesn t she tell Uncle Frank to get off the sofa, turn off the football game, and help with the dishes? [K]indness, Salzberg admits, can seem wimpy, a cop-out, an excuse to do just a little bit to try to make a difference when so much needs to be done. Kindness is not always sufficient. But it is necessary. Now, if you read the Boston Herald you may be wondering how a minister who compares David Koch to a Ku Klux Klansman can be preaching about kindness at all. So I should probably explain that I did not compare Mr. Koch to a Klansman, if by compare you mean say or imply that he resembles a Klansman in any way, like he s a racist or anti- Semite. When I noted that the WGBH Board of Trustees would not tolerate a Ku Klux Klansman, I was not speaking about Mr. Koch, but about the Board, pointing out that its membership is necessarily qualified by standards of decency. But in a sense, I did make a comparison, and I stand by it. I d be happy to talk with any of you about it after worship. Just as civil rights was a moral imperative fifty years ago (and remains so), climate justice is a moral imperative today. Global warming threatens death and destruction to millions our own children and the most vulnerable people on the planet, most of them poor and of color. In my view, someone who dedicates his fortune to spreading disinformation about climate change and blocking all efforts to stop it deserves moral opprobrium. So holding moral opprobrium in one hand and kindness in the other is a neat trick and, I would say, a spiritual practice. Mr. Koch has inherent worth and dignity as a human being and he must be held accountable for his destructive conduct. When speaking truth to power, I aspire to kindness. But pure kindness is not always possible. If justice is what love looks like in public, as Cornel West reminds us, then kindness is what love looks like in private, up close and personal. Kindness, says Salzberg, is compassion in action. It is a way of taking the vital emotions of empathy or sympathy and channeling those emotions into a real life confrontation with 2

3 ruthlessness, abandonment, thoughtlessness, loneliness all the myriad ways, every single day, we find ourselves suffering or witnessing suffering in others. Kindness every single day. That s what I undertook last month when I signed up for the Kindness Challenge. I first heard about the Kindness Challenge in a commentary in Yes! magazine by Nipun Mehta, founder of ServiceSpace.org and inventor of the Smile Cards inserted in your order of worship this morning. Nipun Mehta invited me to try the 30-Day Kindness Challenge, perform a unique act of kindness every day for a month, and share a reflection about it online. When I went to the website, KindSpring.org, I discovered that the 30-Day Kindness Challenge had already been downsized to the 21-Day Kindness Challenge. At first I thought that this adjustment reflected the widely known principle that a new habit will form in 21 days of practice, but online research revealed no scientific basis for the 21-day goal (or the 21-day myth, as some call it), and some evidence that habit-formation takes at least three times that long. Still, I was relieved. A new and different act of kindness every day for a month might be a stretch. Besides, my job is to be kind. It wouldn t be fair for me to take credit for acts of kindness to my congregation or staff when I m paid to do them. Visit someone in the hospital? That s my job. Call a congregant who s feeling down? My job. Pay a compliment to church staff? My job. For the Kindness Challenge, I decided, I would have to do acts of kindness for strangers or at least people outside the orbit of the church (while continuing my acts of kindness to the congregation and staff). The website also suggested acts of kindness I questioned for the Kindness Challenge, like doing a chore around the house or turning off the lights to save energy an act of kindness to the earth. Doing chores at home is already part of the ecology of my family, and turning off lights is already part of my commitment to earth care. I didn t think it was right to claim credit for those, either. I was gonna to have get creative. Here are some highlights from my kindness journal. Wednesday morning, September 11, the first day of the 21-Day Challenge, I say "good morning" and smile at every person I see. Out of dozens of people I pass on my morning run, only one smiles back, a woman walking her dog. None of the other runners look at me; most wear ear buds. (Am I really being friendly calling out "good morning!" to the grim-faced woman runner with her eyes resolutely forward, or am I harassing her?) The only stationary person to whom I 3

4 say "good morning" smiles and returns my greeting. Even with such modest returns, it feels good to start my day offering good cheer and reminding myself and others that we're all connected. Day 4. At the end of a long day, I Bill McKibben, the climate activist. "I can't imagine how hard you work," I write, "but I know how hard I work, and how tired I get. I pray you get the rest you need and the love you deserve." Day 9. Since I know I'll be driving a fair amount today, I decide to surrender the right of way to anyone who requests it any driver seeking to enter the traffic flow, anyone in oncoming traffic waiting to make a left turn, any pedestrian seeking to cross the street. It s a blast! Instead of pressing every advantage and insisting on my right of way, as I usually do, I happily wave others in front of me, blinking my headlights for emphasis. It s so delightful to see their relief, and I get several smiles and waves in return. Day 13. Bicycling through Boston, I notice a parking enforcement officer on patrol, checking for parking violations. I stop my bike, dismount, and thank her for doing her job. "I figure you must get a lot of abuse," I say, "but what you do is important." First she looks astonished, then delighted. "No one ever tells me that," she says. Day 14. The supermarket cashier looks weary. She looks like she s had better nights. "I coulda been home by now," she calls to another cashier. Thanks a lot! "I love you!" comes the reply. "No, you don't!" retorts my cashier. "Yes, I do!" I already have the supermarket gift card in my hand. Now I know whom to give it to. "Put five dollars on this, please," I say. Since there s another customer waiting behind me, I pay for my purchases, then circle back when there s no line. "So this five-dollar gift card?" I say. "Yeah?" she says (meaning "Is something wrong with it?"). "It's for you," I say, handing it to her along with the Smile Card. "Just to help your night go better." "Really? For me?" She breaks into a goofy grin. "You didn't have to do that!" 4

5 "I know I didn't. If I had to do it, it wouldn't mean anything. Have a good night!" Day 16. When I read the from KindSpring inviting me today to "Spend 15 Minutes in Silence" as an act of kindness to myself, I chuckle. "I've been meditating daily for nearly 25 years," I think (a little smugly). "I'll find another act of kindness to do. I want to keep stretching myself." The truth is, though, I don't actually meditate every day. I usually meditate in the morning, but if I don't, it's easy for the day to get away from me, and by day's end I'm too tired or I tell myself I m too tired. It turns out this is one of those days full of meetings, phone calls, deadlines. I never find a moment to meditate, nor to perform an act of kindness different from the previous 15 days. So when my last meeting ends at 9 pm, I go to the KindSpring website for an idea. "Spend 15 Minutes in Silence," it says. Which is exactly what I need. And exactly what I do. October 1. For my act of kindness on this last day of the 21-Day Challenge, I KindSpring.org to thank everyone there for challenging me and so many others to develop our kindness muscles! Thousands of us [I write] have undertaken kindness as a daily practice, changing our lives and the lives of the many thousands more we've touched. By launching the 21-Day Kindness Challenge, you've made a huge difference in the world. Thank you for your vision of kindness and your determination to make it real. And now I pay it forward to you. I invite you to visit KindSpring.org and start your own 21-Day Kindness Challenge. Do a unique act of kindness every day for 21 days. Cut out and carry with you the Smile Cards in your order of worship. Post about your experience and reflections. See what happens for you. The 21-Day Kindness Challenge changed me. It forced me to notice how hurry and distraction and overwork interfere with kindness, and how kindness thrives when I slow down and pay attention to everything. I can t say kindness is now an instinctual habit that just kicks in automatically, but it is now a regular, intentional practice that consistently calls me to my better self. A commitment to kindness, says Sharon Salzberg, 5

6 can be the thread that twines throughout our various successes, disappointments, delights, and traumas, making our lives seamless, giving us ballast in a world of change, a reservoir of heartfulness to infuse our choices, our relationships, and our reactions.... Kindness is the foundation of unselfconscious generosity, natural inclusivity, and an unfeigned integrity. When we are devoted to the development of kindness, it becomes our ready response... a movement of the heart so deep and subtle that is like a movement of the sea close to the ocean floor, all but hidden yet affecting absolutely everything that happens above. That s the force of kindness. Amen, Axé, and Blessed Be. 6