Prelude Melodia Africana I by Ludovico Einaudi
Opening Words by Lyn Cox
Come you accidental pilgrims, you who find yourself on a journey of surprise and wonder. Come you who emerge into this place as an act of liberation. Come you who seek a life of mindfulness and a place to test your thoughts. Come you who bring hearts of all kinds: heavy hearts, rusty hearts, hearts broken open in revelation, hearts full of love to share. Come you who seek courage, and you who have more courage than you realize. Come you who stand behind the curtain, gathering up the resources to claim your truth. Come you who have been in a bubble, you who are poised for transformation.
We begin our story again, gathering courage, love, mindfulness, and a sense of purpose. We gather as people of all ages, of different abilities, different backgrounds, and different perspectives. We share a covenant, a direction for our shared journey, and a commitment to encourage and challenge one another to spiritual growth.
This path will ask much from us. Let us move forward with love. Let us move forward with appreciation for one another. Let us move forward knowing we are not alone. Whoever you are, whatever your gifts, you are welcome to join this journey.
Chalice Lighting (you may wish to light a candle in your own home at this point). Words by Laura Dobson
We light our chalice candle as a symbol of the light of love.
The light reminds us that love is the greatest power in the world,
the love we share and bless each other with,
here in our beloved community;
the love we take out into the world,
bearing and sharing the light,
wherever we are and whoever we are with,
every day of our lives.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
be with us as we gather for worship,
each in our own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
in this world in which Covid has not yet gone away,
and the clouds of war and climate change overshadow us.
May we keep in touch however we can,
and help each other, however we may.
May we be grateful for the freedoms we have
and respect the wishes of others.
May we hold in our hearts all those
who are grieving, lost, alone,
suffering in any way,
Amen
Story: The Elephant and the Rope from Concentration and Compassion by Bill Darlison
A little girl was at the zoo with her father when she spotted some elephants. ‘That’s strange’, she said. ‘The little elephant has a big rope tied round its leg, but the big elephant’s leg is only tied with thin string. Why is that?’ Her father didn’t know the answer, but the zoo-keeper, overhearing the girl’s question, said:
‘When it’s still a baby, the elephant is tied by a very thick rope which is attached to a sturdy stake in the ground. The little elephant tries to pull itself free, but it is tethered too strongly. It keeps on trying, but it is never successful. After about a year it gives up trying, thinking that the rope will always be too strong for it. At that point, the keepers can tie the elephant’s leg to a thin piece of string tied to a broom handle, and the elephant, remembering its inability to escape in the past, never even tries to get away. It could pull itself free very easily, but it’s been tricked into thinking there’s no point even trying.’
I wonder whether we are being tricked into thinking there is no point in trying to change things?
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust. Amen
Reading by David O. Rankin
A religion that promises a life without tension, a life without conflict, a life without suffering, is a religion of passivity, a religion of mediocrity, a religion of insignificance. Everything worth doing in the world is a desperate gamble, a game of chance, where nothing is certain.
What is love? Is it not a wild and sublime speculation that can end in ecstasy or despair?
What is courage? Is it not a hazardous risk of fortune that can end in victory or defeat?
What is adventure? Is it not a blind leap in the dark that can end in joy or disaster?
What is faith? Is it not a prayerful flip of the coin that can end in heaven or hell?
If I refuse to play the game, if I refuse to risk myself, if I refuse to throw the dice, I am never really alive. I am then only flesh, baking in the sun on a middling plateau, with no view of the valley and no road to the peak.
Prayer by Richard S. Gilbert
When we are overwhelmed with the world
And cannot see our way clear,
When life seems a struggle between tedium and apathy
Or frenzy and exhaustion;
When today seems a punishment and tomorrow a torment,
May we find the courage of patience.
May we recognize courage in ourselves and our companions;
That is not dramatic, that elicits no fanfare;
That commands little notice by the world,
That is forgotten and taken for granted.
May we learn how to cope
Like those who live one day of pain at a time,
Who see the long path of suffering and do not despair,
Who inspire us by their patient courage,
When we are impatient and afraid.
May we know such courage
And quietly celebrate its presence among us.
Amen
Reading from The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown
Courage is a huge theme in my life. It seems that either I’m praying for some, feeling grateful for having found a little bit, appreciating it in other people, or studying it. I don’t think that makes me unique. Everyone wants to be brave.
The root of the word courage is cor – the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant “To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.” Over time, this definition has changed, and today, courage is more synonymous with being heroic. Heroics is important, and we certainly need heroes, but I think we’ve lost touch with the idea that speaking honestly and openly about who we are, about what we’re feeling, and about our experiences (good and bad) is the definition of courage. Heroics is often about putting our life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line. In today’s world, that’s pretty extraordinary.
Time of Stillness and Reflection (words by Leslie Ahuvah Fails)
All that we have been separately
and all that we will become together
is stretched out before and behind us
like stars scattered across a canvas of sky.
We stand at the precipice, arms locked
together like tandem skydivers
working up the courage to jump.
Tell me, friends:
What have we got to lose?
Our fear of failure?
Our mistrust of our own talents?
What have we got to lose?
A poverty of the spirit?
The lie that we are alone?
What wonders await us in the space
between the first leap
and the moment our feet, our wheels
however we move our bodies
across this precious earth
touch down softly on unknown soil?
What have we got to lose
that we can’t replace with some
previously unimaginable joy?
[silence]
Blessed are you, Spirit of Life
who has sustained us, enlivened us
and enabled us to reach this moment.
Give us courage in our leaping,
and gratitude in our landing.
And share with us in the joy of a long
and fruitful ministry together.
Amen
Musical Interlude I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi
Address Finding our Courage
My theme today is courage – what it is, why we need it, and how to find it. I’d like to start by sharing some lovely words by the poet and philosopher David Whyte:
“Courage is a word that tempts us to think outwardly, to run bravely against opposing fire, to do something under besieging circumstance, and perhaps, above all, to be seen to do it in public, to show courage; to be celebrated in story, rewarded with medals, given the accolade, but a look at its linguistic origins leads us in a more interior direction and toward its original template, the old Norman French, Coeur, or heart.
Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work, a future. To be courageous, is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. To be courageous is to seat our feelings deeply in the body and in the world: to live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on. Whether we stay or whether we go – to be courageous is to stay close to the way we are made.”
I find this so interesting. The definition of outward courage – being brave, doing something “under besieging circumstance” is perhaps the most common understanding of courage in our society today. The image that comes straight away into my mind is that of St George slaying the dragon. Or Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins on their long journey into Mordor, in The Lord of the Rings, who kept on going, step by painful step, in spite of every peril on the road. Every soldier who goes into battle shows courage. We remembered them with respect last Sunday. But such deeds are not a part of most of our lives. Most of us will live our whole lives without having to undertake a perilous task, or enduring physical dangers.
But inner courage is something we could all do with more of. It is about living wholeheartedly; about standing up for what we believe in. In David Whyte’s words, which I make no apology for repeating, it is “to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. To be courageous is to … live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on.”
Above all, courage is the willingness to be vulnerable. As Brené Brown said in my final reading, “Heroics is often about putting our life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line. In today’s world, that’s pretty extraordinary.”
Because it is often so much easier to Do Nothing! To keep your head down and your mouth shut, and not to stand up and speak out in a difficult situation. A few years ago, I did a service for Holocaust Memorial Day, and it included the words of Martin Niemoller, which I’m sure will be familiar to most of you:
“First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me.”
It gives me chills every time I read it, because it is a reminder that we *must* find the courage inside ourselves, to speak out against wrongdoing, to act with integrity, to not stand aside and let those in power get away with doing evil things, because we might put ourselves in the way of trouble. Because if we don’t, the consequences could be dreadful beyond imagining.
We live in a troubled world. Everywhere we look, on Facebook, in the news, there are stories of ordinary people, people just like us, being deprived of their rights, imprisoned, or denied access to benefits, because of the colour of their skin, their sexual orientation, their gender, or their religious faith. The wars in Gaza, the Lebanon and the Ukraine grind on, and there are many other less-publicised conflicts going on, the world over. All of which involve loss of life, loss of freedom, for ordinary people – people like us, whose sole crime is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the prospect of four more years of Donald Trump at the head of things in the US is a terrifying one, for many of the ordinary people, including many of our Unitarian Universalist sisters and brothers.
And it’s not abroad that these things are happening. Here, in this town, people are suffering from hunger and deprivation. My brother-in-law volunteers at one of the local food banks, and he says they have never been so busy. And we know that many vulnerable people will have to make a choice between being warm and being fed this Winter. Which is a terrible thing in this prosperous country of ours, where a small minority of people have power and influence and money, and the rest of us, not so much.
What sort of crappy society is it that we live in, where people are treated without kindness, without compassion, where obeying the System matters above all, and where breaking any of the System’s rules has dire consequences? The only thing which will make a difference, it seems, is the compassion of ordinary people for each other.
Which brings me back to courage, to standing up for what we believe in, to trying to make a difference in our world, here, now. In the Statements of Belief which appear on Unitarian websites, we say things like: “We affirm the universal values of love and compassion, peace, truth, and justice. We welcome all who come to us in the spirit of goodwill and enquiry, regardless of ethnic or religious background, age, gender, or sexual orientation.” But do we? Do we really?
Sometimes, courage is just taking the first step. The first step which takes us outside of our comfort zone, moving us from a place of inaction and “walking by on the other side” as the priest and the Levite did in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, to a path towards acting from a place of integrity, standing up for what we believe in, speaking out against evil and injustice, wherever and whenever we encounter it.
It involves being in touch with our feelings, our beliefs; feeling the fear, and doing it anyway. It isn’t easy; nothing worthwhile ever is. It involves laying our comfortable lives on the line, being awake to the many injustices in our society, in our daily lives, and daring greatly. Taking a deep breath and being seen. Because it’s worth it. Because we are worth it. Because our neighbours are worth it. Because the person across the street, who has their own struggles, is worth it. It is about saying “yes” to life.
But … sometimes, just sometimes, courage can also be about saying “no”. A while ago, I was invited to take on another role in the Unitarian movement nationally. My first instinct was to say “yes”, particularly as the person doing the asking was somebody I like and respect very much.
But a little voice in the back of my head was saying “Hang on a minute, let’s think about this.” And I did start to think about the many calls on my time, both paid and unpaid. My ministry, my work for the Worship Studies Course, and my spiritual direction work among other things. And also the fact that I have a body and a spirit and a marriage, all of which need nourishing.
And so I said “No, I’m so sorry; I can’t commit to anything else.” It took a lot of courage, as I hate disappointing people. But it was the right thing to do, for me, at this time. I have learned that I need to have the self-respect to look after myself and to ring-fence some “me-time” and some time to spend with Maz, who I really don’t see enough of, even now. But I know that if I had said “yes”, I would have felt resentful and depleted, which would have done no-one any good.
How will you show courage, in the weeks and months to come?
Closing Words
Spirit of Life and Love,
Our time together is drawing to a close.
May we have the courage to embrace our vulnerabilities,
to feel the fear and stand up for love anyway.
May we share the love we feel,
may we look out for each other,
and may we keep up our hearts,
being grateful for the many blessings in our lives,
now and in the days to come, Amen
Postlude Stella del mattino by Ludovico Einaudi