Wholeness is not the same as fullness - emptiness is also needed for becoming - Ringwood Unitarians gathering in August 2021

Still not ready to meet face to face in the prevailing pandemic conditions, in August 2021 we gathered once again on Zoom.  We started our meeting by holding silence, so that we could each do the equivalent of (silently) reciting our personal creed.

The theme of meeting for reverence was ‘wholeness’ in contrast with human brokenness, and it pivoted around some words by the American author Oriah Mountain Dreamer: “When we surrender, when we do not fight with life when she calls upon us, we are lifted, and the strength to do what needs to be done finds us, because we have remembered that we can choose to serve the only cause that matters: life herself.”

We heard readings from Taoism (from the Tao Teh Ching, contrasting emptiness and busy-ness), and Christianity (a story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers on becoming whole enough to see to the heart of things).  We heard that the Buddha’s original message seems to have been cast in positive form – as common sense would expect, his teaching was a call to the ‘more’ of life, not to the ending of it, and certainly not a call to run away from an imperfect world.

We had some prayers and meditations including a meditation by Richard S. Gilbert on a comment by Dåg Hammarskjold regarding our chalice of being (how each day we receive, we carry, we give back).  The reflection had also included an insight on the importance of space and silence if we are to be truly whole, rather than just ‘full’ or occupied.  One participant said, “It made me think of the constellations in the sky.  We think of them as pictures drawn in the stars and yet there is more darkness than light to them.  It is on the space between the stars that we see the shapes form.”

In the self-contained way that has to be used during online gatherings, we sang two hymns from our green hymn books, which focused on the Life that makes all things new and the ‘human becoming’ in oneness and sharing.  After our candles of joys and concerns which turned out to be focused on the darker side of living, it was good to watch a YouTube video in which many sorts of different animals greeted their human companions with what can only be described as hugs.

 

January meeting for reverence

This month saw the end of our second year of meeting as Unitarians, friends, visitors and explorers in Ringwood.  To mark this, the theme of our gathering on Sunday 10th January was “Community – out of the many, one”.  It was therefore lovely to be able to welcome some new faces and voices to the meeting.

As is our normal practice, the chalice flame was lit, and the words of the day came from the Maitri Upanishad (translated by Eknath Easwaran), “One becomes like that which is in one’s mind – this is the everlasting secret.”

As usual our gathering included a chance to silently recite one’s own credo; also some hymns from our hymnbook Hymns for Living.  We included a sustained period of silence for meditation, prayer or reflection, and we made space for each other to voice any joys or concerns, accompanied by candle lighting.

The two readings for the day were taken from the oriental philosophy Taoism and a commentary on the Hindu Upanishad scriptures, both focusing on unity.

The Hindu ideas included Mohandas Gandhi’s view that there should be a movement of the heart towards unity with others.  And that, before getting to complete unity as humankind, we must use as stepping stones the intermediate social groupings that arise from natural differences between persons: “... groupings are a sort of bridge between the unity – toward which all must be allowed to work – and the individuality – from which we each start.” (Eknath Easwaran)

The Taoist reading was a legend of a time before history, when people lived in harmony and union with all creation, without making distinctions, without making relative judgements, and without leaving any trace of their existence.  The legend speaks of a time when there was no division into good/bad, just/unjust, wise/naive, competent/incompetent; a time when there was natural good conduct and benevolence, merely because no one had imagined there to be anything else.

Also during the gathering, the president for the day took up the challenge that is beginning to circulate round Unitarian circles in our district, which is to speak frankly about one’s own beliefs, experiences and outlook, rather than to tiptoe around the subject.  This is what she said.

“I have not so far found any test for being a Christian that I pass.  I do not call myself a Christian.  Primarily I combine a somewhat Taoist approach with some Hindu ideas.  Like Taoists, I find my source and inspiration in my observation of what goes on around me, in the natural world – and I find myself using the epithets “All That Is”, or “What Is Everywhere”.  This leads to the idea of oneness.  In contrast, in Hinduism there is a lot of talk of being a self (small s) in relation to Self (capital S); in other words, there is relatedness as a result of twoness.  At heart it is often twoness or relatedness, with its possibility of exchange and grace, that atheists reject. The Buddha was silent on the matter.  Whereas, I feel this idea of relatedness very deeply. It occurs in Paganism; and also in Judaism, from whence Christianity, Islam and hence Sikhism have inherited it.   But when Christianity talks about relatedness, it uses the formula of the Trinity to express it; and I cannot accept that traditional formula.  Therefore my personal witness is that there is, at one at the same time, both oneness and relatedness, which is a mystery I cannot explain, only experience.  So you see, I love the Hindu proverb that says,

You think you understand two, because you understand one, and one and one are two.

But first you must understand ‘and’.

I accept that all the lasting faiths and belief systems recognise the requirement to live well together, if humans are to survive.  But of all the faiths, it is Christianity that deals a lot with living with others – some of the other faiths are much less vivid about it – which is why, when I think about community, I tend to read stuff from Christianity.”

August meeting for reverence

We started our meeting by holding silence, so that we could each do the equivalent of (silently) reciting our personal creed.  And we followed that with our usual ritual of passing fire, bread, water, and – a new tool for us in the form of a fan of ravens’ and pigeons’ feathers – air, around our circle of fellowship.  After partaking, these four signifiers are placed on the table between us.

The theme of meeting for reverence was “wholeness”, and it pivoted around some words by the American author Oriah Mountain Dreamer: “When we surrender, when we do not fight with life when she calls upon us, we are lifted, and the strength to do what needs to be done finds us, because we have remembered that we can choose to serve the only cause that matters: life herself.”

We had some prayers and meditations including a meditation by Richard S. Gilbert on our chalice of being, and we heard readings from Taoism (from the Tao Teh Ching) and Christianity (a story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers).  We heard that the Buddha’s original message seems to have been cast in positive form – as common sense would expect, his teaching was a call to the “more” of life, not to the ending of it, and not to the running away from an imperfect world.

We sang two hymns from our green hymn books, which focused on the Life that makes all things new and the “human becoming” in oneness and sharing.  We also heard a contemporary take on revivalist music – very uplifting after our candles of joys and concerns which turned out to be focused on the darker side of living.

A personal view of Maundy Thursday

 

Bear in mind, dear reader, that this post, like all the posts on this blog, has been supplied by one of the Ringwood Unitarians - and not necessarily always the same one.  It should not be assumed that any other Ringwood Unitarian, or any Unitarian from anywhere, thinks or feels the same as this. Or that the rest of our Ringwood group are even interested in this train of thought.  That’s the beauty of any Unitarian community – we worship and we connect, but we don’t expect each other to think about the same things or to think or feel in the same way.

It’s Maundy Thursday today.  That’s the day of the Jewish Passover.  The rabbi Jesus and his friends had gone to Jerusalem for the Passover festival, for the celebratory worship of the just and merciful God, who allowed the Hebrew slaves in Egypt to escape the deaths overnight of the first-born, which God inflicted on the then unresponsive and cruel slave masters, the Egyptians.  It is the festival that recognises that God, or Life, will act kindly towards people who act in accordance with the edicts that God, or Life, demands.  This recognition is portable from Judaism right through all the faiths, right across the spectrum of faiths, even to an oriental belief system that shies a long way away from the Jewish idea of a “personal God”, by which I mean Taoism.  Passover, or pesach, is a festival for all those who have had a good experience of their faith.

So Jesus and his friends and family sat down to the Passover meal, the seder meal, to quietly await the arrival of the next day, the commemoration of the day when Hebrews woke up to find that God’s word had been carried out – so the Egyptians were shocked and frightened to find their first-borns had died and the Hebrews now had to get out of Egypt very quickly.

And over that seder meal Jesus seemed to be very sure that his time was coming to an end.  Perhaps he too was shocked and frightened; or perhaps he thought that within a day or two it would be his followers who would be shocked and frightened.  You see, he had been in Jerusalem since the previous Sunday and he was aware that all sorts of people had all sorts of expectations of him that he would not necessarily fulfil. Some people wanted him to renounce some of the things he had said about his relationship to God.  Others wanted him to lead a zealous and possibly armed rebellion against the Roman occupying forces.  A few others seemed to think he was bigging up his part as a wise man with a following, at the cost of wasting money that could better have been spent on supporting the poor.  Jesus got the vibes.  He knew the show-down was coming.  So he spent some time that evening over the meal reflecting back to his followers what it was that he stood for, and asking them to remember his words always – by tying them inextricably with the bread and wine of the seder meal, which he knew they would celebrate year after year, so they would have no excuse to forget them.

And in my reading of it, the message of Jesus was this.  We are in a covenant with God – which was an old Jewish message.  We are in a relationship, said Jesus, a relationship we cannot own or control – it’s a connection we can enter.  We are loved into being, we are all sustained by love throughout our lives, and we are received in love at our ending.  Jesus lived as if it were both task and gift to strive to echo that love, right up until his life's end. 

The kingdom of God, said Jesus, this relationship, the way to lasting life lived true to our best selves, lies within; and it is accessible to all.  But to find that kingdom, to enter into that ultimate relationship with the just and loving God, you have to be prepared to let go of yourself and act in all humility.  As though you and your wants and desires were all just by-the-bye, scarcely relevant at all.  Jesus demonstrated that he thought everyone, including the most acclaimed ones amongst us, need to see ourselves as fit for the most unpleasant and menial jobs; like taking off the sandals and washing the dusty, smelly feet of our companions after a day on the Galilean plains; like taking without comment an unwarranted slap across the face; like carrying the load of someone who chose to press us into service against our plans and expectations – and not just the mile they demand of us, but an extra mile too.

My message, said Jesus, is that we have to try to mirror God – who is in all people, including the most disadvantaged and disregarded, the ones cast out by the establishment, and the ones who self-injure by getting knotted up in their pain and difficulty.  The kingdom really is there to be experienced, but you have to work very hard to put yourself last, to put yourself gracefully out of everyone else’s way, and to be prepared – despite your fear – to relinquish your own comfort and control over what is happening to you.  Look, said Jesus, I mean we have to relinquish our own safety and comfort right up to the most painful and bitter end.  Right when it hurts most, right when we don’t think we can go on, we have to stand quietly in trust, and surrender ourselves in all humility to Life, to God – both in his direct presence as we feel it, and as we feel it coming to us through other people.  Love the very people who cause you grief and pain because God is in them too – it’s the only way to be fully human.

I can’t imagine the power of the inspiration Jesus had experienced.  But I can see what a strong man he was.  What serenity and peace and fulfilment he found in his love for God and others.  How disregarding he was of himself.  And, though at the end even Jesus felt abandoned, I can see that that didn’t prevent him from offering himself to God.  What a model.

So this Maundy Thursday I celebrate the life and message of the rabbi Jesus with the unleavened bread and the wine of the thanksgiving seder meal.

October meeting

Our October meeting supported the intent for all UK Unitarian congregations to hold a service for peace on or near the 3rd Sunday in October, as an interfaith service.

We also noted that the "Hunger for Justice" campaign led by Christian Aid is being marked on the third weekend in October this year.  UK Unitarians sponsor Christian Aid as our strategic partner for delivery of aid towards justice.

 

 

 

Peace and justice were seen as being inextricable, peace not even being possible unless first there is justice.  We had a reading from the old Chinese tradition of Taoism, suggesting that personal and disciplined acts of peace within each life are necessary for peace to become a reality for nations.  We had a reading from the Jesus tradition where Jesus said that before you can have peace you must have justice, and that justice hurts, and breaks both things and assumptions, and stirs things up.  How working for peace will break relationships that we might not want broken, and how it will cost us personally if we get serious in our search for peace.  There is nothing easy about it and we are in danger of turning away from the task.

Our prayers were taken from the Pagan, Anglican, Hindu and Jewish traditions.  And we heard a vivid poem about how the clearing up really gets done after a war – and after the media circus has left town.  We heard and joined in with some wonderful pre-recorded hymns sung by the Unitarian Music Society, and discussed the deeply thoughtful lyrics.

We lit candles for our own concerns about peace.  We meditated on our own confusion about how our own actions can really make a difference, and what we can do if we want peace but the person we are dealing with just doesn’t want peace but revels in discord and power struggles.

Of course, we found no simple answers; but we each went away feeling the time together had been precious.