Rev. Julie Stoneberg
As we enter the last year of this decade, many will be making personal resolutions. How might the concept of ‘stewardship’ inform and guide us both in taking care of ourselves and in rising to meet our responsibilities and dreams?
Opening Words
Messenger
Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird –
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums,
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work.
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
the phoebe, the delphinium,
the sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here.
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
Reading
Edward Frost
Waiting
for something
to happen.
Waiting for the other shoe to fall.
Standing there, not believing the warning signs
“Thou shalt not surely die.”*
The days fall away unmarked,
Assuming nothing happened.
On this day I was born. On this day I was married.
On this day a child was born.
This day marks a death. And here another.
On this day I was raised up.
On this day I was cast down.
The days of grand events we mark, remember and celebrate
or mourn in somber anniversary.
But there were days unmarked,
forgotten in the long waiting
on which no trumpets proclaimed
no violins moaned and cried.
Surely it was in those forgotten days that love began to grow
or love untended began to die.
It was in those unnoted days
That some beauteous talent of ours began to be revealed
or surrendered.
It was in those uncelebrated, unmarked days that beauty dawned, and hope,
and the dim light of purpose.
Or that darkness began to gather at the edges.
The great events are marked.
It is recorded when they burst upon the world.
The beginnings, the hidden days which swayed things this way or that are missed or forgotten.
Give us this day our daily bread.
It may be in this unremarkable day that the reason for our being stirs and stretches,
Prods to see if we are awake.
Happy new day.
(*These are the words spoken by the serpent to Eve.)
Message
I spent this past week with friends in the States, and given their “Entertainment Weekly-type” fervour, I was swept up in a popular tradition in the US...to spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s in darkened movie theatres, trying to see all, or at least as many as possible, of the blockbuster Christmas releases. (Does this also happen in Canada?) This year, that meant seeing three great films...Milk, Slumdog Millionaire, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. This experience was my launching pad for this message...a launching pad created out of time in conversation, both frivolous and meaningful, in the company of friends who view the world through the lens of the theatre.
And so, when the conversation came around to my preparations for today (which came up because I had sequestered for a time to get some work done), my friend Tom, a playwright and actor, said that the notion of stewardship of the self reminded him of studying to play or to create a particular role. Since I once worked in theatre and was also married to an actor, I knew immediately what Tom was talking about. To live and to work intimately with actors who are currently in rehearsal is like living with schizophrenics... you never know if you are dealing with the person who is the actor, or the character who is the role.
When an actor begins to work with a role, at least in many schools of study, that actor tries to figure out how to bring that character inside of themselves, and then how to live out of that sense of self. One actor I know used to strive to find the character’s literal center of balance...did they walk as if suspended by a thread from the front of their chest? Or did they have a chord attached to their shoulder blades that always held them back, and kept them tentative and cautious. By acting, by moving, as if they really are the character, the actor can become that character. For example, I could only see the character Harvey Milk; Sean Penn, the actor, was invisible.
This, said my friend Tom, is about stewardship of that role...by doing two things...first, what you need to do to make it possible to play the part (e.g. staying well, getting enough sleep, studying your lines, etc.) and second, by always acting as if you ARE that character...asking at every turn what that character would do (WWCD) and working to incorporate that understanding into the portrayal.
That first step...doing what you need to do to give you the physical, mental and spiritual wherewithal to be who you want to be...is perhaps what comes to mind first when we talk about stewardship of the self. Self-care has become a huge industry in service, product and literature, and while some of this seems indulgent and narcissistic, it is, nonetheless, an important aspect of self-stewardship. We are well-informed about these practical techniques and options, so I am not going to spend any more time on this today.
It is, rather, the other dimension...figuring out of your role...the understanding of the character that sustains you....the commitment to finding and growing the self that you want to be...this is the dimension of stewardship of the self that interests me, and hopefully you, today.
For those of you who haven’t been with us during the past few months, let me quickly bring you up to speed. This year-long focus on stewardship was inspired by the work of the Long Range Planning Team who have framed a soon-to-be-released proposal with the language of care and responsibility for this congregation. I believe that this is the fourth service focusing on stewardship thus far ...we’ve talked generally about what stewardship is, about stewardship of our finances, and about stewardship of our mission. We have looked at stewardship as a way of being in the world... of receiving in gratitude what has come to us....of learning to be ever conscious of our responsibility to these gifts...and finally, of fostering an awareness of why and for whom we tend to these gifts...finding our very purpose in making the world a better place for those who will come after us.
We’ve talked about stewardship as being like a fluid recycling symbol...a constant flow of energy and resources...taking in, tending, transforming, passing on, taking in. And so today, fittingly I hope, at the time of the year when you might be contemplating change and personal resolutions, we explore stewardship of the self.
In order that we might be on the same page, I’ll start with how I’m using the term ‘self.’ There are, of course, countless explorations from philosophical, psychological, and spiritual perspectives, which look at the concept of the self. For today’s purposes, I would like to use the term to refer to those essential qualities that make a person distinct from all others. More importantly to this discussion, this self, this collection of qualities, is also the agent responsible for the thoughts and actions of the individual to which they are ascribed.
[1] The agent responsible for your thoughts and actions...that is your unique self...rather like another form of recycling...the self is what the self creates which is the self. It is from this very humanist perspective that I speak today...a perspective that ascribes to you the agency to determine the self that you are, the self that you wish to be, and the self that others recognize to be you. This perspective assumes that you have the potential and control to be self-determining in the creation of your self. Finally, germane to my understanding of self is that it can change. As Sharon Shields writes in “Stone Diaries”, “the self is not a thing carved on entablature.
Sure, the self includes both nature and nurture. There are parts of your self that were given to you at conception, parts of you that feel determined because of the circumstances into which you were born and the experiences you’ve had, and parts of you that are yours to nurture and to develop and to change. Again, it is this latter nurturing of the self to which I turn today. If there is one message that I wish to impart, it is that you have the potential and the ability to envision the self that you wish to be and then to bring it into being. You are the playwright who creates the role, and the actor who lives it into existence, and ultimately, you are also the character you create.
I by no means wish to imply that there is anything fake and Hollywood about this...that by intentionally creating a self you are living a lie or a pretence. Rather, I would have us recognize that each self is, in reality, a created self, whether with intention or by oblivious compilation. This is a central message in process theology that I much admire...that each moment, each being, is a concrescence of both what it was in the previous moment and the new information gathered from the present environment. Again this happens whether or not we are aware of it and whether or not we take an active role in it.
The time envelopes you received earlier are but a short exercise in a much larger and more complex practice of intentionally creating the self you see as your best possible self. You could put any day, any number of days, on your envelope... you could put any number of resolutions and commitments inside that envelope... you could set aside any amount of time and varying degrees of dedication and resources toward actually making the changes you dream of. That part is up to you. This exercise is simply a way to become more aware of our agency in determining who we are.
That’s the stuff of New Year’s resolutions, is it not? To become agents in our own transformation? Even the word resolution can give us some direction. In music, to resolve a chord means to move from some kind of dissonance to consonance, so to make a personal resolution means to move toward something that is in harmony with your visions for your self. In imagery, to resolve means to bring something out of murkiness...to make it distinct and visible...so to make a resolution means to bring into reality that which you want others to see in you. In medicine, to resolve something means to heal, so to make a resolution means to move toward your most whole and healthy self.
Resolutions, unfortunately, have become a trite culturalism, rarely imbued with much meaning. They have fallen prey to the consumer machine...so that we are sold ready-made weight loss plans, exercise regimens, hair replacement systems, and personality makeovers to address any inclination for personal change. But just like the practice of sending Christmas cards and letters, there is some value in a marked place in time that calls us to do something we’ve put off or forgotten. There is value in a time of reflection, a time to examine where we want to go. On a communal scale, this is the work of the Long Range Planning Team...to reflect on where we’ve been and to set an intentional course for where we want to go.
So, where do you want to go? I love that first line in the Mary Oliver poem that served as our opening words today...”My work is loving the world”. This is a resolution. Oliver sees her work, the direction of her life, to be loving the world, to be standing still and learning to be astonished, to be rejoicing and expressing gratitude. Any one part of her resolution inspires me to put something similar in my envelope. Just as a start, what if I, on January 8th, was intentional about being grateful for “a mind and a heart and these body clothes” that allow me to be in community with all that is. Just as a start, say on February 15th, what if I committed to standing still and being astonished by what the world places before me on that day.
When who we want to be becomes an honoured and noticed part of us, when it shapes what we do, how we relate with all that is, and how we make decisions, then that vision shines through to become one with the self that is visible in the world. It is like the process at work when a sculptor takes a vision and a commitment to her development of it, and turns a block of marble into a work of art. What emerges is not just coincidence...it is a product of an intentional and well-examined goal.
I cannot advise you on how exactly to go from the block of marble to the work of art, or from the role on the page to the fully-fleshed out character. I believe that the process is different for each of us, and that our timing is unique and even mysterious. One can hold an intention for a long time before it comes to fruition. One can ponder how to get somewhere without realizing that they’ve already arrived. And sometimes we name a goal, and it springs up, out of season, with alarming vibrancy before we’ve even had time to prepare the way. What’s important, it seems, is setting the goal, and living the intention.
And here’s what else I know to be true. First, your unique and developing self, fully present in its imperfection, exuding its potential in dreams and commitments, is exactly what the world needs. Your presence as a good steward of your self is key to the health of the whole.
The daytime book group has begun reading “Returning to the Teachings” by Rupert Ross. It is a study in aboriginal justice, in the communal systems that look at the roots and causes of aberrant behaviour and the relationships that are affected by that behaviour. Many aboriginal teachings lack the hierarchical dimensions present in western thought. Instead, they teach that all things have a purpose, and that unless those gifts are fulfilled, the strength of the whole is weakened. Comparison and ranking is absent, because each component, each being, has gifts that are important and worthy. Our seventh principle begins to understand these teachings, and as we apply this to our beloved community, we are encouraged to welcome each individual self and the gifts and challenges that self contains.
Second, I also know that the role of this Fellowship in stewardship of the self, is to serve as a support system for that self nurturing. I’m not speaking about this being a place of sanctuary, or comfort, although that is important too. What I’m speaking of is the role this community plays in challenging us each to be the best that we can be, and supporting us in the challenges we face as we attempt to be that best self. By means of our covenant with one another, we can provide a welcoming environment, encourage respect of one another and our earth, actively and compassionately listen to one another, and draw out the best that is within us. Stewardship of the self is may seem to be about the individual, but always with a focus on how that individual can contribute to, and be in right relationship with others.
Lastly, the other thing that I know, so far, is that it’s possible to ‘fake it until we make it’. We can make choices to live in the ways we have envisioned for ourselves until they become habit and are then fused with the selves we are. Faking it, at first, keeps us from getting stuck in a self-fulfilling prophecy that says we’re not yet ready for, or not capable of, or not meant to...you fill in the blank. You gotta practice being the person you want to be, and practice, like rehearsal for a play, involves being someone who you, as yet, are not.
Another part of my dose of theatre this past week was the introduction to (get this) an old Canadian TV series called “Slings and Arrows”. Do you know it? It is set in the backstage of something like the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. In the first season, a young, handsome movie actor is hired to play Hamlet in order to boost ticket sales. He comes, with bravado hiding his passion for acting, with glitz obscuring his natural talents, with a Hollywood reputation covering his sensitivities. And he drives the director and cast crazy with his insistence on going off book to express Hamlet in modern voice. But on opening night, he wows the audience and his peers with his fully-integrated Hamlet. He had allowed himself to deeply study the character he wanted to be, and then opened himself to letting that character flow through him.
Who is the character you wish to be? What is your work in the world? What resolutions are you willing to make to be all that you can be? And how can this community support you in that work? You are the only one who can be the steward of your self. May you, may we, be good stewards.
Amen.
Closing Words
Mary Oliver (excerpted)
Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work.
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
the phoebe, the delphinium,
the sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here.
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.