The Unitarian Fellowship of Peterborough

Here in this sanctuary of ancient dreams and wisdom and beauty we come to grow, to be healed, to stretch mind and heart, to be challenged, renewed; to be helped in our own continuing struggles for meaning and for love; to help build a world with more justice and mercy in it; to be counted among the hopers and doers.

 

In the face of cynicism, darkness, brutality around us and within, we seek to align ourselves with a living community that would affirm rather than despair, that would think and act rather than simply adjust and succumb.

 

Here we invite the spirit of our own humanity and the healing powers under, around, through and beyond it, to give us the nerve and grace, the toughness and sensitivity, to search out the truth that frees, and the life that maketh all things new.

 

"Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when year, after year, the longed for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsion reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness. If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience, we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed."

 

Perhaps you would all appreciate that approach. Short and sweet.   I mean, what else can one say about grace? I can tell you, that at least in the last fifty years or so, very few Unitarian Universalists talk about grace. Just try googling it...only a handful of UUs out there are even talking about it. 

 

Paul Tillich was not a Unitarian or a Universalist. He was a Lutheran, and one of the most influential Protestant theologians of the 20th Century. His thought was decided liberal, and as a professor at Harvard Divinity School, had great impact on several generations of Unitarian and Universalist ministers. 

 

I spent a bit of time this week reading one of his books, The Shaking of the Foundations.   It’s perhaps not one of his best known works, but in it, there is a chapter on grace...a chapter that I find extremely helpful in unpacking this concept. As you’ve probably already noted, the passage that Diana read earlier is from this book.

 

So, bear with me. I’m going to dive deep and fast into theological waters. Tillich talks about grace and sin as essentially two sides of the same coin...two realities that are inseparable from the experience of being human.   Eeks. Grace and sin!? I expect that talking about these things will give some of you the schpilkis... which is Yiddish for ants in your pants. I ask that you sit with those ants for a few minutes, and hopefully things will calm down soon. 

 

First, I guess we have to look at sin...which again is a word that is not very often used in the UU context. Those who are talking about it are saying that we ignore it at our own peril...that if we don’t understand what it means for us and how to address its reality in the world, we, this religious tradition that is, will perish. 

 

Personally, this is a word I can do without, mostly because it brings more baggage, even, than does the word god. The concept of original sin, the degradation of life, your life, my life, as unworthy, has done real harm. But Tillich talks about sin as something very different than individual immoral acts or as the opposite of righteous living. He talks about it as a state of separation...from our true selves, from deep connection with others, from a communion with the ground of being.   Tillich defines sin as our state of estrangement from something to which we truly belong...that is, a state of harmony with all that is. 

 

I too, in my theological statements near the end of my seminary training, defined sin as separation. And I hadn’t even read Tillich! That is not to say that I came up with this idea myself, but rather that Tillich’s thinking is pervasive among those with whom I was studying; I daresay Tillich’s thought has influenced most of today’s liberal theologians.  

 

Still, I know this notion...that sin is a state that exists in us all...is hard for us to swallow. We are stuck like glue to our first principle which states that we promote and affirm the inherent worth and dignity of each individual. We are drawn to a worldview that would downplay or even deny our ‘sin’ in preference for a view of humanity that teaches that we are all okay and accepted just as we are. 

 

And this is exactly where grace steps in. We affirm and promote grace in every life. 

You know, sometimes I’m amazed at the thought and depth of understanding present in ancient teachers. Confronting this truth can lead me to think we have hardly evolved. Yet, other times, I’m able to wonder at the truths of our humanity that seem to persist through time. I’m thinking right now of Paul...you know, the one in the Christian Testament. I don’t think that everything he said or taught was enlightened.   But in Romans 5:20 he writes: “But law came in, with the result that the trespass multiplied; but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.”

 

Where sin is present...where our sense of separation increases and is palpable...there, grace is even more abundant.   Grace, Tillich says, is an experience of the unity of life.   He writes:

“In grace, something is overcome; grace occurs in spite of something; grace occurs in spite of separation and estrangement. Grace is the reunion of life with life, the reconciliation of the self with itself. Grace is the acceptance of that which is rejected. Grace transforms fate into a meaningful destiny; it changes guilt into confidence and courage. There is something triumphant in the word grace; in spite of the abounding of sin, grace abounds much more.” 

 

So, how are those ants doing? Still crawling around and making you itch? You can relax...I’m going to stop these theological diggings and talk about the praxis of grace. I’m going to get practical. 

 

What is completely Unitarian Universalist is assuming responsibility...understanding that if something is going to happen, we are the ones who are going to have to make it happen. If there is to be grace in the world, then we are going to have to make it possible. How then, might we contribute to that ‘abounding grace’ of which Tillich and the Apostle Paul speak?

 

For me, one of the beautiful things about the word grace is its many meanings and uses. You might receive a “grace period’ to extend a deadline. A musical score can contain “grace notes”... nonessential but pleasing little musical flourishes. You leave something a little extra for a server...a gratuity...another kind of grace note. Extending hospitality is referred to as being gracious. When we are well thought of, we are held in someone’s “good graces,” and conversely, we can fall into disgrace. And my favourite image of grace is the physical beauty of a creature that moves with ease and fluidity...to be graceful. 

 

Ultimately, to know grace has nothing to do with unpacking it theologically. It is a visceral experience. Think about those moments, however rare they might be, when you feel graceful. Your joints are almost liquefied, and you move on the earth in complete synchronicity with everything. There is no sense of precariousness or danger, but rather of being held in a pattern that is much larger than oneself. There is no sense of resistance, but rather of completely fitting in.

 

Some people, some animals, some physical structures, seem to just be born graceful. But ask any accomplished dancer or athlete, and you’ll find that in addition to some natural ability, achieving grace takes a lot of practice and intention.   It might look easy and completely natural, but there is lots and lots of hard work behind that appearance. 

 

And the same could be said about being graceful of spirit. It might look easy, but it takes a lot of work. One of the legacies left here by the Rev. Peter Boullata, who preceded me in this pulpit as your interim minister, is a bit of advice about grace. I haven’t kept exact count, but I’ll take a guess that at least seven of you have repeated this mantra offered by Peter. That is, when frustrated by the action or behaviour of a fellow congregant or family member, to repeat the words... “Extra Grace required.”   Extra grace required. I take that to mean extra forgiveness, extra patience, and extra effort to understand. To extend this kind of grace takes effort and practice...we need to strength our spiritual muscle in order to show such grace to one another. 

 

In the Christian tradition, grace is often described as the unearned favour shown by God. Whether or not you use that language, I find it helpful to remember that grace is not something earned. It can’t be bought with good works or right behaviour. Part of the essential quality of grace is that it comes unbidden and unearned.    Still, we often do find ourselves on the receiving end of grace. We are recipients of a connection and feeling of belonging that we could never earn, in part because it is something we each inherently deserve.    It follows then, at least in my theology, that we must be providers of that same grace to others, even, or in spite of, the fact that they never earn it.   It also follows that an awareness of and gratitude for grace in our own lives, might just help us to allow it to flow on through us, and into the lives of others....to help create a kind of world in which we can all move and breathe with ease and with a deep sense of knowing that we belong. 

 

I’m still working on this Tillich-ian relationship between sin and grace. I wondered if we should sing Amazing Grace today, and struggled, as many of you do, with the words...”Amazing Grace...that saved a wretch like me.” But it seems like this is exactly that relationship...a simultaneous awareness of separation and connection...a simultaneous experience of sin and grace.   As I implied earlier, it is a resistance to the word ‘wretch’ that trips us up. We don’t like to think of ourselves in that way, or for that matter, that we are in need of being saved. 

 

But pan out a bit. Take a broader view. Don’t you feel, even once in a while, that life is wretched?...and if not specifically your own life, then the state of the planet? Life can be awkward and bumbling...far from graceful. We live in constant tensions, getting tripped up by being pulled in many directions. Grief and pain and hardship exist. People all over the world are hungry and in danger. We cannot be saved from this reality, but we can be gifted with a grace that would help us move through it all with greater ease, understanding and compassion.  

 

This Mittens and Greens service is an act of grace in the face of the reality of hardship. Here we acknowledge that life can be a struggle, and that we can do something to alleviate that experience. Here we claim our belief that all deserve to live easily in the world. Here we practice how to position our spirits and move our efforts in ways that bring more grace into a hurting world. And, I daresay, in sharing grace with others, we are gifted with it in return. Where hurt and division exist, the possibility of grace abounds. 

 

I found this quote on an internet blog:

“When grace visits the landscape of our hearts, we experience a sense of gratitude. While we might not always be conscious of the things that bring grace into our lives, it behooves us to acknowledge our gifts and share our gratitude by comforting and helping others.”

 

Think about those moments, however rare they might be, when you have felt graced....when, even in the face of unhappy or difficult circumstances, you were aware of being blessed. Think of a time when your heart was liquefied with love, so that it seemed to flow in complete synchronicity with all other hearts. In such a moment, even in the presence of pain or danger, you feel held in a pattern that is much larger than one self. You know that you belong.   

 

As Tillich says, after such an experience, we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. Grace doesn’t necessarily change the circumstances, but rather makes them bearable, nay, even beautiful. 

 

So, we didn’t sing Amazing Grace. We would not be saved from who we are and the reality of life.   Rather, we sang O Come O Come Emmanuel. In Hebrew, Immanuel means god with us...grace with us...a call for that experience of a deep sense of belonging and connection. It is known as an advent song, and truly it is about that time of waiting...waiting for grace to be abundant in our lives and in the lives of others. This is what we pray for. This is what we work for. Such a grace is the weft and warp of the tapestry of beloved community.    

 

Who needs grace? All of us.

So be it. Amen. 

 

If you feel in need of grace today, receive these words.

In [the days ahead], may you rest in the grace of the world and be free.

In weakness, may you sense the strength of the eternal hills, and rest in the grace of the world.

In failure, may you be upheld like the buoyancy of water, and rest in the grace of the world.

In limitation, may you remember that the choices may be as great as the expanse of the sky, and rest in the grace of the world.

In insecurity, may you feel the solid earth beneath your feet, and rest in the grace of the world.

In despair, may you hear the joy in birds' singing, and rest in the grace of the world.

In fear, may you feel the warmth of the sun, and rest in the grace of the world.

"For a time, I rest in the grace of the world and am free."

 

So be it.