Guide My Feet. February 9, 2014 Sarah J. Napoline First Parish in Brookline

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1 Guide My Feet February 9, 2014 Sarah J. Napoline First Parish in Brookline If you let God guide your feet, where will life take you? If you let your own experience of the holy become your compass and your True North, what adventures and moments of transcendence will you encounter? Author, speaker, and spiritualist Neale Donald Walsch said: Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. As difficult as that might sound, I have found this to be profoundly true. The most transformative experiences of my life have been on the brink of my comfort zone. Times when I am scared or unsure have created some of the most powerful experiences of deepened understanding. Moments when I tiptoed or tripped outside my comfort zone were times when I learned incredible lessons about myself and about the world around me. We all have different comfort zones, but taking the risk to challenge ourselves to step beyond them is a transformative experience each and every time. Removing yourself from your home environment is a literal, physical, and visceral way of pushing yourself outside your comfort zone. Reverend Dan Stern from the Broadview United Church of Christ in Seattle, Washington talks about the ritual practice of leaving home to confront the unknown. He says: Anthropologists who have studied [many] tribal cultures know that during times of major transition, remarkably similar ritual practices take place and have always taken place all over the world. Australian Aborigines called it Going on Walkabout. Native Americans spoke of venturing out on a Vision Quest. It can take place out in a desert, up on a mountain, or deep inside a cave. It can happen in a sweat lodge, under a grove of old growth cedars, or inside a quiet chapel. Whenever we push ourselves physically and spiritually beyond our comfort zone, we are embarking on a sacred ritual of transformation. As many of you know, I have travelled on pilgrimages to Romania to visit our Unitarian partner church communities. I first visited Transylvania in the summer of My home church in 1

2 Concord had built a strong relationship with a partner church in a small village called Szekelykeresztur, and our church sent choir groups and youth pilgrimages every couple years to visit and get to know our partner church community in Eastern Europe. My first choir trip consisted of a performance tour through Romania, Budapest, and Prague. We only spent a few days in Transylvania, but the warm welcome in our tiny partner village and the breath-taking journey through the Carpathian Mountains made an impact on me. My next trip to Transylvania was in 2011, the summer before I began seminary at Andover Newton. Instead of stopping in our partner village for only a few days, I spent ten days in Szekelykeresztur as a chaperone for a high school service pilgrimage. The youth spent time doing icebreaker games with the Hungarian teenagers, we all did volunteer work in the hills near the village, and we visited local churches and learned about the history of the region. This past summer I had the privilege of returning to Transylvania to fulfill a Border Crossing requirement for my master s degree. This was Concord s first intergenerational family pilgrimage, and I went as a student of theology and a guide for spiritual reflection throughout the trip. I spent the week talking with the young assistant minister in Keresztur, learning about Unitarianism in Transylvania and what it means to be a minister in such a different part of the world. Each of these trips created a different experience, but each presented me with opportunities to challenge the status quo, to learn new revelations about the world and about myself, and to step outside my comfort zone. I stumbled across Walt Whitman s Song of the Open Road when I was preparing for this service, and as you can imagine, it immediately clicked into place. Hear his opening call again: Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Strong and content, I travel the open road. For all our fears and nervousness about venturing outside our comfort zone, this challenge is an invitation to joy and new experiences. Whitman cries out to us, inviting us to join him on the open road. He says: Boldly! the road is before us! It is safe I have tried it my own feet have tried it well be not detain d! It might be scary, or intimidating, or far outside our comfort zone, but the road is before us, and it is safe. It has been tried before, and though we don t know how it will change us, it is worth the journey. 2

3 It s hard to believe, but spring is just around the corner. Bear with me for a moment: Here we are, recovering from yet another winter snowstorm, but we are creeping slowly towards sunny days, budding blossoms, and a refreshed world to explore. As of this morning, we are only ten weeks away from Easter. On Easter morning, we celebrate the coming of spring and the return of the sun, and honor our Protestant roots that celebrate the potential for resurrection in the world. That bright morning, while many of you will come here to celebrate and to sing, a small group of us will greet the sunrise at Logan Airport, spending half the day squished into airplane seats and saying our own prayers of fortitude, hope, and rebirth. I feel extraordinarily lucky that I can count myself among this crew of traveling pilgrims as we journey to Central America for our weeklong service trip. First Parish is supporting a delegation of members and volunteers traveling to Antigua, Guatemala, to join in service with our partner non-profit, Common Hope. You heard about the work Common Hope does earlier in the worship when we took our special collection, but the people traveling on this trip will come back with even deeper stories to share. The week will be spent in service and reflection. We will spend our days working to build homes, teach children, and support social workers. Our evenings will be filled with community and time for reflection on our experiences. Can I confess something to you? I feel extremely lucky, and I am eagerly looking forward to this trip, but I am still nervous about what I will experience that week. I have never been to Central America, and I speak only un poco, a little bit of Spanish. It doesn t matter that I have experience travelling or teaching this is outside my comfort zone. But hearing stories from people who have been there before restore my faith. Barbara testified earlier to her experiences of service in the world, and why those trips matter so much to her. She said,...the truth is, I came back with much more than I ever could have given. If we let the holy guide our feet, then venturing beyond our comfort zone can introduce us to connection on a deeper level, and be a transformational experience of faith. * So why does any of this matter? Why do I keep going back to Transylvania? Why am I eager and nervous about going to Guatemala in April? Besides the amazing photos and the experience of international travel why does it matter that we do these trips? There is a well-known Martin Luther King, Jr. quote that takes us deeper than just stepping outside one s comfort zone. He says, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." 3

4 We do not know what will happen when we venture beyond our comfort zone. We don t know what the experience will be, or what lessons we will bring back with us. It is so easy to stay home and safe, but the connections we make when we give ourselves to service in the wider world are far more precious than we can possibly imagine. And those connections and experiences are what will bring us to the direct experience of the transcendent, our individual experience of the divine spirit. We embody the divine when we are in community and connection with one another, and we encounter the holy when we push ourselves past our limits. Walt Whitman said, Whoever you are come travel with me! However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here, However shelter d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here, However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while. However welcome and sheltered and sweet our comfort zone is, we need to remember that it is only temporary. Pain and suffering and loss are just around the corner, and it is our community and our connections that help build us up for those times of difficulty. However cozy and hospitable our home in the United States seems, pushing beyond that to reach out to the world is worth every step we take, no matter how unsure we might be. It is the companions on the journey that transform who we are. It is the people we meet and the lives we encounter that inevitably change us forever. Whitman reminds us. He cries out: Forward! after the great Companions, and to belong to them! They too are on the road! They, too, are on the road. Barbara didn t tell us about the beautiful scenery or the food or the architecture. She didn t talk about a sense of generosity or gratitude. She told us about the people. She told us about Bernice in New Orleans, Nanouche in Haiti, Pablo hollering at her, and the working women on a chicken bus in Guatemala. Everyone is on a journey, and fighting their own battles. How we meet one another on our journey is what defines us as human beings and as people of faith. By giving ourselves not to fixing or helping, as Rachel Naomi Remen says, but to service, we are giving of our whole hearts. She reminds us that: Our limitations serve, our wounds serve, even our darkness can serve. The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. When I fix a person I perceive them as broken, and their brokenness requires me to act. When I serve I see and trust that wholeness. 4

5 She says that helping is an experience of strength, fixing is an experience of mastery and expertise, [and Service] is an experience of mystery, surrender, and awe. With service, we give ourselves unto the world with all our wholeness. The world gives back with all the transcendence and transformation it has to offer. Life is short; too short to live trapped inside our comfort zone. A. Powell Davies says that: The years of all of us are short, our lives precarious. Here we are all of us all upon this planet, bound together in a common destiny, Living our lives between the briefness of the daylight and the dark. When we push beyond our comfort zone, when we take that first step onto the invisible staircase, we are living our faith in the world. We are taking a risk that will transform ourselves for the better. And this doesn t mean that we need to travel halfway across the world. Reverend Dan Stern talked about vision quests that happened in a sweat lodge, under a grove of old growth cedars, or inside a quiet chapel. We can push ourselves beyond our comfort zone from right here in Brookline. We can try and speak a little Spanish to the visiting neighbor. We can introduce ourselves to someone new, even if it s someone who has been coming to the church for a while. We can volunteer for religious exploration leadership or to help plan an event, even if we ve never done that before. We can push ourselves to think differently about our faith and our beliefs. We can challenge the status quo just a little. Barbara said in her testimony that just showing up can be transformative; and that authenticity, community, and human connection are universal no matter what situation you are in. It has always been worth the trip. You said the words yourself in our responsive reading: What can we do to stretch our hearts enough to lose their littleness? How strange and foolish are these walls of separation that divide us! Walt Whitman closes his epic Song for the Open Road with these offerings. He says: Camerado, I give you my hand! I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself? Will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live? Whitman asks the real and important questions as we prepare for pilgrimage, whether across the country or in our own community. Will you give me yourself? 5

6 Will you push beyond your comfort zone? Will you take that first step, even if you can t see the whole staircase? Will you let the holy guide your feet, and give yourself to an experience of grace? It s all waiting for you, out on the open road. * * * * * Referenced Material Opening Words From IN THE SERVICE OF LIFE by Rachel Naomi Remen Serving is different from helping. Helping is based on inequality; it is not a relationship between equals. When you help, you use your own strength to help those of lesser strength. If I'm attentive to what is going on inside of me when I'm helping, I find that I'm always helping someone who is not as strong as I am, who is needier than I am. People feel this inequality. When we help we may inadvertently take away from people more than we could ever give them; we may diminish their self-esteem, their sense of worth, integrity and wholeness. When I help I am very aware of my own strength. But we don't serve with our strength, we serve with ourselves. We draw from all of our experiences. Our limitations serve, our wounds serve, even our darkness can serve. The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. The wholeness in you is the same as the wholeness in me. Service is a relationship between equals. Serving is also different from fixing. When I fix a person I perceive them as broken, and their brokeness requires me to act. When I serve I see and trust that wholeness. It is what I am responding to and collaborating with. If helping is an experience of strength, fixing is an experience of mastery and expertise. Service, on the other hand, is an experience of mystery, surrender, and awe. The bottom line, of course, is that we can fix without serving. And we can help without serving. And we can serve without fixing or helping. I think I would go so far as to say that fixing and helping may often be the work of the ego and service is the work of the soul. They may look similar if you're watching from the outside, but the inner experience is different. The outcome is often different too. Our service serves us as well as others. That which uses us strengthens us. Over time, fixing and helping are draining, depleting. Over time we burn out. Service is renewing. When we serve, our work itself will sustain us. Service rests on the basic premise that the nature of life is sacred, that life is a holy mystery, which has an unknown purpose. When we serve, we know that we belong to life and to that purpose. 6

7 Reading by A. Powell Davies (Responsive Reading #662) The years of all of us are short, our lives precarious. Our days and nights go hurrying on and there is scarcely time to do the little that we might. Yet we find time for bitterness, for petty treason and evasion. What can we do to stretch our hearts enough to lose their littleness? Here we are all of us all upon this planete, bound together in a common destiny, Living our lives between the briefness of the daylight and the dark. Kindred in this, each lighted by the same precarious, flickering flame of life, how does it happen that we are not kindred in all things else? How strange and foolish are these walls of separation that divide us! Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Strong and content, I travel the open road. I inhale great draughts of space, The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine. All seems beautiful to me, I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you, Whoever you are come travel with me! However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here, However shelter d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here, However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while. Together! the inducements shall be greater, We will sail pathless and wild seas, We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail. 7

8 Forward! after the great Companions, and to belong to them! They too are on the road Onward! to that which is endless as it was beginningless, To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights, To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it, To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls. Boldly! the road is before us! It is safe I have tried it my own feet have tried it well be not detain d! Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen d! Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn d! Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher! Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law. Camerado, I give you my hand! I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself? Will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live? 8