Silence as a Gift A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane Teichert Paint Branch Unitarian Universalist Church November 21, 2010

Transcription

1 Silence as a Gift A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane Teichert Paint Branch Unitarian Universalist Church November 21, 2010 In the Adult Religious Exploration program called Living by Heart that I m offering this year, we read a poem by the late poet, lesbian, sometimes Unitarian Universalist May Sarton. It s called Beyond the Question: Part One and it s about silence, silence experienced by us when we are alone. You may remember it from one of my sermons last year: The phoebe sits on her nest Hour after hour, Day after day, Waiting for life to burst out From under her warmth. Can I weave a nest for silence, Weave it of listening, Listening, Layer upon layer? But one must first become small, Nothing but a presence, Attentive as a nesting bird, Proffering no slightest wish Toward anything that might happen Or be given, Only the warm, faithful waiting, Contained in one s smallness. Beyond the question, the silence. Before the answer, the silence. (pause) In November and December this year, the theme in our children s Religious Exploration program is Gifts of the Spirit. For example, last week's Children's Chapel was about the gift of spiritual community (our church) and next week, our All Ages service will celebrate the gift of family. The Dec. 5 Children's Chapel will focus on the Gift of Generosity. It is my intention to sometimes coordinate the theme in worship with the theme in RE, so I chose for our worship theme today, Silence as a Gift. Most of this sermon will be in praise of silence as a spiritual gift, evocative of it and instructive on how to use it to better our lives, individually and as a religious community. But, first, I need to acknowledge that silence is not always a gift. Sometimes, it is cruelly imposed. As it is, regrettably still, on gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender people.

2 It was the silencing and worse of transgender people that was mourned yesterday on the twelfth annual Transgender Day of Remembrance. Each year on this day we honor the memory of transgender people killed nationally and internationally the prior twelve months. A long list of names, causes of death, location and news source appears on the website, along with a long list of remembrance events held around the world. Many silent vigils were held yesterday, a positive use of silence: to honor the dead. With a moment of silence now, let us join them a day later, in sad memory of transgender people who lost their lives as victims of hate crimes, and at the same time let us remember our own commitment to welcome transgender people here. (Pause) Let me add that I hope you will consider supporting a bill proposed in the state legislature to extend to civil rights protections to transgender people, by signing today, if you have not already done so, a postcard available in the foyer. In this era of constant communication, silence is a precious commodity. It is a gift we can give to ourselves. Happily, it costs nothing, and can be had without shopping! To drive in the car without turning on the radio, to be home alone without the television on in the background, to have a free moment and not use it to call, text or someone in these ways, we give ourselves the gift of a little silence, a pause, a space in which to hear ourselves think, feel our bodies, notice the sights, smells, sounds around us, or just to be a human being instead of a human doing. To gaze up in marvel at the Milky Way. The need to do so is not modern, however. Mystics and sages of ancient times in many places went into the wilderness to pray--think of Abraham and Moses on their respective mountains, Jesus in the desert for forty days, Mohammad on retreat in the Cave of Hira where first received the Qur an, the Buddha under his Bodhi tree where he achieved enlightenment, and so on. And even today religious folk of so many traditions make a space in their homes for an altar or shrine think of Hindi, Catholic, and Buddhist families who make a space in a corner for prayer or meditation, Mexican families on Dia de los Muertos, or Muslims who simply unroll a small rug and get down on their knees facing Mecca. I ve often wondered how they know where Mecca is, have you? In Malaysia, where my spouse Don and I were last week, Muslims are the majority and in each of our hotel rooms, there was an arrow on the ceiling, pointing toward Mecca. Why would we Unitarian Universalists not need a silent time apart, too? Why would we not need a gift to ourselves of silence? Silence is not just a gift we can give to ourselves. It is a gift we can give to each other, too. And again it costs nothing, can be had without shopping! When with friends or family, but especially here, when we come together to shape worth as in worship together, we can give one another the gift of silence. People in many other kinds of houses of worship do it, too 2

3 The thing about silence is: one person can have it only if everyone else has it too. If one person speaks to another, ruffles their papers, checks their cell phone, or rummages in their purse, the silence of everyone else nearby is disturbed. That s why we say that shared silence is a gift we give to each other. In fact, we have it because we give it to each other, by being silent. Of course it s okay that there are inadvertent sounds like a cough, or a baby s cries, or even a cell phone (though we do try to remember to turn them off when we enter the meeting house). We try to note these interruptions to the silence and let them go without attaching annoyance to our response, just like we do with our own distracting thoughts. We note them, and let them go. I ve heard that the poet Maya Angelou notes the interruption of a cell phone when she is reading her poetry in public by staring at the source of the sound, saying My, how embarrassing! And then at that point everyone in the room reaches in their pockets to make sure their own is turned off. Of course, that makes of the interruption an even greater disruption. Sharing silence together isn t always easy. Perhaps you ve heard this Zen story [from One Hand Clapping: Zen Stories for All Ages; selected, adapted, retold by Rafe Martin and Manuela Soares] There once were four young men who practiced Zen together. One day, they decided to spend seven days of zazen meditation in complete silence. Everything started off well. But, when evening came at the end of the first day, the oil lamps became dimmer and dimmer. One of the young men couldn t help saying, We should fix those lamps. Another, surprised to hear the first one speak, said, Shhhhh. We re not supposed to say a word! You two really goofed. Why did you talk? asked a third. Well, it looks like I m the only one who hasn t broken down and said anything, announced the fourth. Then they looked at one another and began to laugh. All had been equally foolish! They decided they d have to try again. But this time they would remain really alert. Perhaps you ve noticed how the silence here, if enough time is given to it, sometimes gathers and settles in around us here, like a warm afghan, or the soft diffuse light of autumn through the windows. It is in those moments, those magical moments, that we are truly sharing the silence. It becomes something palpable, and we are sharing it. The Quakers, who ought to know, because their worship is nearly entirely shared silence, call that quality of silence gathered silence. We need silence. We in the 21 st century, especially perhaps, need that silence here. It s a place and a time of peace and calm, a pause in the onslaught of information, advertising, expectations, and tasks. A moment in which to hear the still, small voice inside or experience an awesomeness that transcends this place and time. We need silence. This is a part of our spiritual practice as Unitarian Universalists; to come together for worship in community, a small portion of which may be spent in shared silence. We need it, and in doing it together here, we may learn ways to do it elsewhere and at other times by ourselves or with family or friends. How to take a few minutes or more to listen to the sounds of silence in our own homes at the start of the day, during a break from work, before a meal, while stuck in a traffic jam, waiting for someone who is late, or to calm a fear, recoup after an argument, on a walk, or at bedtime. Sharing silence together isn t always easy. 3

4 So, I want to explain my invitation into our shared silence in the context of worship and suggest three possible ways for you to approach it. Later, we will share three minutes or so of silence together. In our worship, I am intentional about the way I invite you into the silence. I say, let us join our hearts and minds together to evoke a sense of wholeness that the upcoming activity is for both heart and mind. It s not just for thinking, nor is it just for feeling. It s an invitation to become soulful in these moments, to find a deep place within you, a place of both heart and mind, where you know joy and sorrow, a place that connects you with that deep place in others. My invitation is intentional in another way, too. I say let us join our hearts and minds together in a time of prayer, meditation, or contemplation to suggest that you might pray during this time or you might meditate, or you might contemplate. It s up to you. There may be yet a third intentional aspect of my invitation. Sometimes my invocation is Oh, spirit of life/oh, God or it may be Let us now dwell in the light of love within us. Or simply, Let us I want to give you a variety of possible entry points into the time of silence. I do so to offer you choices: to help you evoke the spirit of life or a name if by some name you worship or a salutation, like Dear God or to whom it is concerned, or as a suggestion as to how you might center yourself first, in the light of love which also connects us, being in us all. Again, it s up to you, take it as you wish. Any way, these invitations suggest that there may be something more than our own little hearts and little minds as open as they may be that we may tap into, join with, express and increase, if we attend to it. Now that I ve explained my invitation into it, let s look at three possible ways for you to use the time of shared silence. By contemplation I mean a variety of things that could include brood, cogitate, or reflect. Your subject could be the view out the windows here, a picture on the wall, the face of someone nearby, or a question in your life at the moment. Or it could feel like waiting, waiting to see what will arise in you, like the phoebe, resting on the nest you wove for silence, wove of listening, listening, layer upon layer, as in the poem with which I began this sermon. The nature of your contemplation is up to you. Is there a difference between prayer and meditation? To me, prayer is more about filling and meditation is more about emptying. You don t have to believe in a higher power to pray. I think of prayer as being possible for all of us, whether we direct it toward the divine or not, by understanding prayer as giving silent voice to our deepest self in this moment. In prayer, we name our deepest longings, desires, sorrows, confessions, hopes, gratitudes, or joys. So, our minds and hearts are filling with the names of these things and the feelings associated with them.it take practice. That s why they call it a prayer practice. To pray your own prayer, you might name for yourself something true within yourself, a deepest hope or longing, perhaps a fear or doubt or major question with which you are currently struggling, a deep regret, or a deep love or joy. What help do you need? For what are you thankful? Dwell with it there in the silence. You may, or you may not, then direct your prayer to the holy, the ground of your being, God or the Goddess, the marvel of life, of all creation, or simply to that spirit of life that is in each and every one of us, and connects us all and all the universe. 4

5 On the other hand, in meditation, we empty our minds of thoughts and feelings. We do so by either following the movement of our breathing in and out, perhaps silently counting or saying a word or phrase with each inhale or exhale, or by meditating upon an image or thought. In doing so, the mind is quieted, calmed, focused. When other thoughts enter in, we eventually bring ourselves back to our breath or to the subject of our meditation. It take practice. That s why they call it a meditation practice. My simplest suggestion is to notice your breathing. It requires no special equipment, no book, no other person, no special setting. If you re alive, you re breathing. Your breath is always with you. Each inhale and exhale that you follow is a present moment that you have attended to. You ve paid attention. You ve focused your mind and, though we all have distracting thoughts, you only have to bring your mind back to noting your breath. Even in only three minutes, you will likely need to bring your thought back to your breath many times. Or your mind may wander right up until you hear an amen (which, by the way, simply means so may it be or the sound of a chime when the time is ended. I find that simply attending to my breath like that often just results in long periods of going over my To Do list in my mind while I follow my breathing. That s called the monkey mind. So there are variations on breathing meditation that I prefer to do. Perhaps you would like to try them too. Some Zen practitioners silently count to ten, one with the inhale and two with the exhale, three with inhale and so on up to ten, then start at one again. But, I ve tried that and I find my mind can think about other things even while I m counting. Monkey mind, again. So, I like to read a poem silently to myself and then pick a phrase from it that speaks to me. Perhaps it s a phrase of two, three or four words. I then recite those words (instead of numbers) as a kind of mantra in my mind, the first word for the in-breath, second word for the out-breath, third for in, and fourth for out. Then I repeat it the phrase, until the time is up. I find this helps to focus my mind because there is a word to go with each inhale and exhale. Sometimes, the whole phrase resonates with meaning by the end. You could do it with any phrase from the Order of Service today a phrase from the Chalice Lighting, the quote at the top of the page, or one of the hymns. Or you could open the Hymnal at the back where the readings are and pick one at random to use in the way I ve described for a breathing meditation on one phrase that you like. So, to review, three ways to be together in shared silence are prayer, meditation and contemplation. In a few minutes, after we sing the chant Meditation on Breathing, #1009 in the teal songbook, you are invited to try one of these three ways (prayer, meditation, contemplation) of being in shared silence together. This time, I won t give a spoken invitation, but rather we will allow the chant to carry us into the silence. After about three minutes of silence, I will sound the gong gently three times to end it. So please now find your teal songbook and #1009 inside it. But remain seated for the singing of it. It has three parts. The choir will sing all three. You may choose to sing along with whatever part pleases you, joining when you are ready, singing the same part repeatedly. We will sing it four or five times, according to how David directs the choir ending with the drone part. Meditation on Breathing, words and music by Sarah Dan Jones (2001): When I breathe in, I ll breathe in peace. When I breathe out, I ll breathe out love. 5