"Great Expectations" - sermon from Sunday, March 30th

Great Expectations

Rev Alison Longstaff, March 30, 2014

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem

Habakkuk 2: 18-20; Luke 7: 24-35; HS 3857:6-7 Portions

Happiness is equal to reality divided by expectations. - Jodi Picoult from the novel, 19 Minutes

My happiness grows in direct proportion to my acceptance, and in inverse proportion to my expectations. - Michael J. Fox

Did you know that “all true yoga instructors should be vegan”?  Well, actually, there is a yogic principle called “Ahimsa” and it means non-violence” or “do no harm.”  This is a broad principle with many applications.  But, because people are people, in our North American yoga culture “Ahimsa” has become narrowed down in meaning until it has become the expectation “be vegan.”  My favorite yoga teacher in Waterloo, Ontario—a top-notch instructor and excellent human being—gets judged regularly by other yoga practitioners when they discover she’s not vegan.  She’s not even a vegetarian, shockingly enough, though she dabbles in both from time to time.  This teacher lives and breathes and works diligently at non-harming in all aspects of her life, especially in her relationships and business practices; yet some yogis judge her for not living according to their rules, which is that “all true yoga instructors should be vegan.”

Brilliant author, life coach, and writer for O Magazine, Martha Beck, experienced a similar collision with other people’s expectations.  In her book, Expecting Adam, she describes her experience when she discovered that she was carrying a Down’s syndrome child.  She was working on a degree at Harvard at the time and suddenly found herself a political pawn, caught between warring expectations.  Many of her fellow academics and professors assumed she would abort, reacting with horror and judgment when they discovered that she was going to go ahead and “bring an idiot child” into the world.  One doctor even went on a campaign to convince her that she was doing herself, the world, and her unborn child a heinous disservice by not aborting immediately.

Conversely, once word got out that Martha was not going to abort, she was besieged by folks who wanted to make her the poster child for the pro-life movement.  They rushed up with all sorts of expectations about what she believed and what she would be willing to do for their cause, and they got very angry with her when she wanted just to be left alone with her decision.  She did not want to be telling anyone else what they should or shouldn't do in a similar situation.  On top of having to deal with her own grief and loss in discovering her baby’s special needs, she found herself battling insults and arguments from both sides of an ideological war by people who were trying to force her to behave according to their expectations.

In the gospel stories we see the clash between what Jesus was expected to be and do for his people, and what His actual mission was.  The Jews of the day had long been expecting a Messiah—a Messiah that would free them from Roman dominion, restore their Temple to its former glory, and establish an earthly kingdom of unassailable power and might.  The disciples themselves expected to be elevated to positions of power alongside Jesus when He became “King.”

But Jesus’ purpose was to teach and model that the important things are not physical power and might but the spiritual realities of love, service, humility, and compassion.  But the incredibly dense disciples kept mishearing Jesus’s actual message, deafened to it by their overriding expectations of what they thought He was supposed to be.   “Yeah, yeah, ‘love,’ okay.  But seriously, can I sit at Your right hand in the Kingdom?  I asked first!”

The thing about expectations is that the more attached we are to what we imagine something should be, the more blinded we will be to what it really is.  The more attached we are to our expectations of anyone or anything, the more likely we are to be disappointed or angry when that person or group or event doesn’t measure up to what we expect.  There is a direct correlation between our expectations in relation to reality and our happiness.

We live in a world full of expectations.  We all have them.  Expectations are not bad things.  We need expectations or we couldn't function.  We expect the floor to support us when we get out of bed.  We expect the air we breathe to be relatively safe and life-sustaining. We expect our hearts to beat and our blood to circulate.    

It is good to become aware of how some of our expectations affect our own and each other’s happiness.  Our default setting is to project our expectations onto others, and we do it all the time.  We can’t help it.  We just do, without even thinking.  We expect others to have the same “script” we do.  Then when someone inevitably doesn't behave or speak or choose the way they are supposed to, we tend to get rather grumpy with them and possibly quite judgmental.

Have you ever gotten annoyed with someone for not doing what you thought they should do?  Conversely, have you experienced someone being mad at you for not doing something they expected you to do, and you had no idea they expected it of you?

How recently have you found yourself thinking something along the lines of, “If that person really loved me, he or she would have known or done ...” Or perhaps something like, “All good church members (or committee members or family members or spouses, etc.) should know that we always … (fill in the blank)”?

And now realize that each one of those thoughts is rich with information about you and what you expected, and not-so-much information about what someone else should have said or done.  It can be uncomfortable work to unearth our expectations and realize that the things we have assumed are not the global, universal rules for everyone that we think they should be. But I promise you: the more you uncover and identify the expectations you place upon yourself and others, the more you will be able to realize how you have contributed to past miscommunications and disappointments in your relationships, and the more you will be able to both avoid, and/or navigate wisely such miscommunications and disappointments in the future.  You will have much more space to choose your responses, and be much more aware of your own expectations and be able to communicate around them rather than just project them onto others and then be disappointed.

 

All of our unacknowledged, hidden expectations have the potential to do harm to the health and well-being of all our relationships.  The spiritual work of getting to know oneself and learn about one’s own expectations pays off big time when it comes to managing personal happiness and having healthy relationships.  It simply pays to become more self-aware, because then we can own and manage our expectations, and reduce the potential harm we might do by speaking and acting from them without thought.

How tragic that Martha Beck had to defend her decision not to abort her baby from warriors on both ends of the abortion divide. 

How ironic that the principle of Ahimsa (or non-harming) is used as a justification for judgment, contempt, and exclusion.

How naive it was for the disciples to expect Jesus to overthrow the Roman government, and make the Jews great again in the land of Canaan.

And yet that is us.  It is what we do, again and again, until we learn better.

We have expectations of ourselves, of those we love, and of God; and unless examined, they can all get in the way of healthy relationships.

When someone is letting you down, know that it is connected to your expectations.  The part you can control and change is what you expected.  Sometimes our expectations are justified; sometimes not.  Regardless, it is reality that we must embrace, not what should have been.

Go easy on yourself and others.  Do no harm.  Assume the best when you can.  Try, try not to get mad at others for not living their lives according to your conscience.  And know that God’s plan is always bigger than we can envision, more wise than we can imagine, and more loving than our wildest dreams.  It is okay if we can’t see the Big Picture yet.  Isn't it cute that we expect we can?

The Readings:

Habakkuk 2: 18-20  “An idol does no good, because a human made it; it is only a statue that teaches lies.  The one who made it expects his own work to help him, but he makes idols that can’t even speak!  ¹⁹ How terrible it will be for the one who says to a wooden statue, ‘Come to life!’  How terrible it will be for the one who says to a silent stone, ‘Get up!’  It cannot tell you what to do.  It is only a statue covered with gold and silver; there is no life in it.
²⁰ The Lord is in his Holy Temple; all the earth should be silent in his presence.”

Luke 7: 24-35

²⁴ When John’s followers left, Jesus began talking to the people about John: “What did you go out into the desert to see? A reed blown by the wind? ²⁵ What did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, people who have fine clothes and much wealth live in kings’ palaces. ²⁶ But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, and I tell you, John is more than a prophet. ²⁷ This was written about him:

‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare the way for you.’ (Malachi 3:1)

²⁸ I tell you, John is greater than any other person ever born, but even the least important person in the kingdom of God is greater than John.”

²⁹ (When the people, including the tax collectors, heard this, they all agreed that God’s teaching was good, because they had been baptized by John. ³⁰ But the Pharisees and experts on the law refused to accept God’s plan for themselves; they did not let John baptize them.)

³¹ Then Jesus said, “What shall I say about the people of this time? What are they like? ³² They are like children sitting in the marketplace, calling to one another and saying,

‘We played music for you, but you did not dance; we sang a sad song, but you did not cry.’

³³ John the Baptist came and did not eat bread or drink wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon in him.’ ³⁴ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! He eats too much and drinks too much wine, and he is a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ ³⁵ But wisdom is proved to be right by what it does.”

HS 3857:6-7 (Portions) HuSuch also was mankind was such when the Lord came into the world that we had grown even more concrete-minded, especially those who were members of the Church. This is illustrated by the disciples who were unable to understand things in a metaphorical or abstract manner, even though they were with the Lord constantly and hearing so many teachings about His kingdom. They were unable to have any other concept … of the Messiah than that He would promote their race to a position of power and glory over all the nations of the world. Even after hearing so many things from the Lord about the heavenly kingdom, the disciples were still unable to think anything else than that the heavenly kingdom would be like an earthly kingdom, where God the Father would be supreme, after Him the Son, and then themselves the twelve.

[7] If they had been told that the word 'disciples' was not used to mean themselves but all people who are truly good and are living a conscientious life, or that in the Lord's kingdom there are no thrones and no positions of government and dominion, and that they would not be able to pass judgment on even the smallest aspect of any other person, they would have rejected those teachings, and each would have left the Lord and gone back to his own employment. The Lord spoke in the way He did so that the disciples would receive what He said and gradually be lead to think more spiritually or abstractly. Spiritual or internal truth always lies stored within the Lord’s external words, and in course of time can be laid bare. 

Welcoming the Stranger - sermon March 23

This sermon did not come out as polished as I had hoped.  I realized too late that drawing a parallel between the stranger walking in the church door and the shadow self didn't work as well as I had hoped, for the stranger coming in the door is seen as a positive, while the shadow self is usually considered to be negative.  Oh well. I ran out of time.  So take what you like and leave the rest. 

Welcoming the Stranger

Rev Alison Longstaff, March 23, 2014

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem

Exodus 19: 16-19;23: 9;Matt 25: 34-40; HS 4958

Your weirdness will make you stronger. Your dark side will keep you whole. Your vulnerability will connect you to the rest of our suffering world. Your creativity will set you free. There's nothing wrong with you ― Andrea Balt

When was the last time you were at a gathering where you knew almost nobody, and yet it seemed everyone knew everybody else?  How did that feel?  Besides perhaps running away, what did you most want?

When was the last time you felt uncomfortable in your own skin—perhaps afraid that you were too weird to be lovable, or too full of mistakes to ever clean it all up?

 In our readings today we heard that God commands us to welcome the stranger.  God commands us to do this.  So we need to ask, what does it mean to welcome the stranger, not just naturally, but spiritually?

The “stranger” is the unknown one at the edge of our established group, the newcomer, the guest.  But spiritually, it is also the unknown, estranged, or outcast parts inside ourselves.  These are parts of ourselves that we have found unacceptable, frightening, or worrisome.  They are also moments, memories, or words and actions in our past of which we are ashamed or embarrassed, and which we choose to ignore or block out, rather than integrate with compassion and learning.

What does it mean to welcome this stranger—the frightening, or new, or alien one, or dark side of our soul?  Well just remember, something is only dark until the light shines on it.  And understanding something brings us a long way towards no longer fearing it.  Even if we must be watchful around it, like we must be around a bear or a strong undertow or a hornets nest, the better we understand how such things work and behave, the better equipped we are for such encounters, and the more likely we will be to make wise and responsible choices in the face of such encounters.  Ignorance and fear are never the better option.

As for me, I certainly was raised to see my insides as divisible into good and bad parts, white and black parts, the stuff that I wanted to show the world and the stuff that I wanted to “shun” (to use a traditionally Swedenborgian word).  It was all or nothing, good or evil, keep or throw away, be proud of or chop it off.  I don’t remember much conversation about the vast middle ground, which includes all the stuff that needs sifting and sorting, weighing and waiting, as in the parable of the wheat and “tares” (weeds). It includes the world of the mixed things that require time and discernment to sort properly. Which world is vast.

And since my inner world was organized that way (all good or all bad), I tended to sort people that way, and I would shun or avoid and have contempt for the ones I had decided were in the “bad” category.  This made me feel both “good,” and safe from whatever it was I decided was bad about them.  The downside of that way of viewing people was the flip-side of the message—if other people could be thrown away, that meant that I could be thrown away too.  And that notion terrified me.  So I learned a heck of a lot of people-pleasing and go-along-to-get-along behaviors that looked good on the outside, but were not particularly enlightened.  These behaviors were fear-based (so I wouldn't be thrown away), and fear-based things harness our lizard-brain, and our lizard brain is never spiritual or enlightened.

The more I study human nature through a Swedenborgian lens, the more I believe that fear is our greatest teacher and greatest enemy.  It is our darkest darkness.  When Swedenborg says such things as “we are nothing but evil,” and “we are selfish and worldly,” and “we incline to evils of every kind,” I now understand that to mean that, left to ourselves, we are scared out of our minds.  Of course we are!  We are born tiny, naked, hungry, wet, and powerless! And in our terror we default to our lizard brain, and our lizard brain is completely unenlightened. That’s when the “selfish and worldly” nature wins out.  But that lizard brain isn’t our fault.  It just is.  And it can be overcome.

So rather than hide and shame and cover up our darkness, maybe we can ask it what it is most afraid of?  For the more you and I can discover what is really going on underneath our anger or shame, our confusion or outburst or clumsy remark, the more we can realize that it was never about who broke the stereo, or who forgot to lock the door, or who said what about who to whom, and then what she said back, and isn't that terrible….  It is always because we are scared.

We are afraid that we will discover that we really are unlovable.  We are afraid that we will be rejected, because we are too stupid or too untalented or too clumsy or….  We are afraid that we just don't belong, or that we made a big mistake and everyone will see it and despise us…. 

The fears are usually very primitive and pretty much the same across the board.   

It is just how we are.  We are not evil; we are terrified.  But the more we practice seeing what the fears are and the more matter-of-fact we can be about these things that run inside us, the less we need to cover them up or feel ashamed about them.  Instead we name them and own them and work on behaving responsibly around them.  We waste energy being ashamed of our nature.  It is simply how we are made.  We need to practice being responsible and open, which is very different from shaming ourselves and hiding.

Correspondentially, we are seeing a shift in the world of spiritual thinking to a “healing” model of spirituality from the more punitive, shaming “compartmentalize and chop the evil off” model that has reigned so long.  Very much like our advancements in medicine, in which we continue to develop ways to save body parts that are at risk rather than amputate them, in spirituality we are learning how to have compassion for, heal, and reintegrate parts of our personalities and souls that we formerly thought shameful and irredeemable.  For example look at how alcoholics were viewed and treated seventy years ago compared to today.  Then, alcoholics were shamed and blamed for their condition and considered worthless, hopeless, and lost.  Nowadays many alcoholics confess without shame that they are alcoholics, they seek and get help, and they live useful lives reintegrated into society acknowledging and behaving responsibly in relationship with their condition. 

And these recovering alcoholics are the best and wisest angels in supporting, aiding, and guiding others who struggle with the same disease to find recovery.  Their wisdom drawn from their darkness becomes a potent gift in service to others.  It becomes their strength.

For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home.

Now, how do you behave when a visitor walks in our church doors?  Do you stare at them and ask another member who it is?  Do you say a quick hello and then scurry off to talk to your comfortable friends?  Or do you get over your personal shyness and go introduce yourself?  Do you remember how hard it is to be in their shoes, and decide to ease their experience?  Do you try to set them at ease and make them comfortable because they are a guest in your church home?  How good are you at helping newcomers feel included, respected, safe, and at ease?

Now remember.  Every single one of us has some level of anxiety when it comes to talking to new people.  Every single one.  Never assume you are the only one, and “it is those other people who are comfortable talking to visitors that should do it.”  Those people that you assume are comfortable making small-talk?—They have worked at that skill.  They have practiced it and honed it until it looks effortless, but it never starts easy.   And for most of us, it takes a serious inner push for us to reach out to any stranger at any gathering, no matter who or where we are.  I know!

Then remember.  It is hard work to come to a new church.  It is harder work to keep coming, unless the people there welcome you back and act truly glad to see you again.  Put yourself in the visitor’s shoes and show hospitality.  Be interested in them.  Make a point of learning their name and be glad to see them again, even if you've forgotten their name! 

Because, if you, yes you, commit to being friendlier and kinder to strangers, in virtually any setting, you will gradually undergo an inner transformation---where at first you were pasting friendliness on the outside of yourself and wielding your rehearsed phrases, “Hi, have we met?” “Hello, I’m Jane church member.  Welcome.  Is this your first time here?” you will begin to discover that soon you really care about that other person.  Curiosity and compassion will begin to trump self-consciousness; phrases and questions will flow more easily, and eventually you will forget yourself in the delight of discovering someone new to know.  

Because when you reach out to another to build relationship, you are reaching out to a facet of God.  If you do it to the least among us, you do it to God—to the goodness in that other, with the hope and prayer that you might both be blessed by the encounter.

In the past several years, BCNJ has welcomed God in the form of Wesley Seekamp, and God in the form of Jody and Lee Evans.  We have welcomed God in the form of the Rudy/Mozak family, and have welcomed back God in the form of the Trott and Legard families.  God willing, we will continue to welcome God in the form of old friends and new, individuals and families, as folks find their way to our doors and discover a place of worship that is good for their souls.

God willing.

God commands us to welcome the stranger. 

So, next time you find yourself pointing at a stranger and leaning over to a friend to ask in a whisper, “who is that?’  Be sure to go the next step and speak to that unknown person face-to-face as soon as you can.  Say, “Hi, I am so-and-so.  It’s nice to have you here today,” or something like that.  The Holy Spirit is very good at giving us ideas of what to say.  Will it be uncomfortable sometimes?  Yes.  Will it be awkward sometimes?  Yes.  But it won’t kill you.  In fact it will lead you to more spiritual riches than you can imagine.  Get ready.  Treasures beyond treasures await us behind that next set of bright eyes.

Amen

Originally “How Inclusive Are We?" July 19, 2009

The Readings

Exodus 19:16-19 and 23:9  (NLT)

¹⁶ On the morning of the third day, thunder roared and lightning flashed, and a dense cloud came down on the mountain. There was a long, loud blast from a ram’s horn, and all the people trembled. ¹⁷ Moses led them out from the camp to meet with God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. ¹⁸ All of Mount Sinai was covered with smoke because the Lord had descended on it in the form of fire. The smoke billowed into the sky like smoke from a brick kiln, and the whole mountain shook violently. ¹⁹ As the blast of the ram’s horn grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God thundered his reply.

^23:9 “You must not oppress the stranger. You know what it’s like to be a stranger, for you yourselves were once strangers in the land of Egypt.

Matthew 25: 34-40  “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. ³⁶ I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? ³⁸ When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? ³⁹ Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ ⁴⁰ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My sisters or brothers, you did it to Me.’

AC 4958. “Hungering” is referring to a spiritual longing for goodness because in the internal sense 'bread' is referring to goodness and loving-kindness, indeed food in general is referring to all goodness. “Thirsting” is referring to a spiritual longing for truth because in the internal sense wine (and also water) mean the spiritual truth or the “truth of faith.”  'A stranger' is referring to one who wishes to receive spiritual instruction…. 

Beauty in Breakdown - a sermon

Beauty in the Breakdown

Rev. Alison Longstaff, March 16, 2014

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13, and Mark 13:1-8; HS 8165:2

(these readings are found at the end of the sermon)

In Swedenborgian theology, we believe that the Bible contains the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration. 

Among other things it tells the story of every stage of our relationship with God in great detail.  I truly love this way of understanding the Bible.  The more I study the Scriptures through this lens, the more beauty and compassion I find in its pages. 

You may already know all this, being in George Dole’s congregation, but let me review it anyway.  It begins in Eden, a garden with a tree of life and a big river, and all sorts of good fruits to eat.  We begin in a garden—a garden with only one way out and no going back once we leave—like the womb, like the innocence of early childhood.  There follows a lot of grief and bloodshed, magic and miracles, mistakes and renewals in the middle of the story, and then it ends in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.  What a ride!

Now, the Hebrew Testament describes our spiritual birth and childhood years. It then progresses through our adolescent years, with our struggle to find identity and a spiritual presence.  Then it moves to the more settled years of young adulthood, still with struggles and battles, but with a “landed” identity.  Then there is a time of relative peace, (“relative” is in italics) under King David.  Finally we reach a pinnacle in King Solomon—whose wisdom was renowned around the world.  King Solomon who had wealth and fame and many, many wives.

I don’t know about you, but in my upbringing, it was King Solomon’s reign that was the pinnacle of the Hebrew Testament.  He had ALL the answers: “The wisdom of Solomon.”  Solomon was IT.  Solomon had arrived.  In fact, after his story, it is all rather down-hill, and nobody addressed that part in my childhood.  I guess the assumption was that we would get to the Solomon phase spiritually and not let things all slide after that.

But if the Biblical arc is the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration, how can Solomon’s reign truly be the pinnacle?  If so, our spiritual story is that we peak early, and then gradually become corrupted, broken, and lost. And everything after that is an attempt to regain what was lost and patch up what was broken. Well, that’s depressing!  Maybe we need to take a deeper look.  What else might Solomon’s story be illustrating in the human psyche? 

In our reading from 2 Samuel, we hear a conversation between God and King David.  David is living in a stone and wood house, and declares to God that he wants to build a stone and wood house for God too.  And what is God’s answer?  Do you remember?  God says, “I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought the Israelites up out of Egypt to this day. I have been moving from place to place with a tent as my dwelling. Wherever I have moved with all the Israelites, did I ever say to any of their rulers whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?'”

God’s response is essentially, “No thank you.  This whole tent thing has really worked for me.”  God doesn't want a stone and wood house.  He does tell David that Solomon will build him a temple, but he never says he wants it, simply that that is what Solomon will do.

Think about it.  When God’s house is a tent, it is right down among the people.  It travels to where it is needed most.  It is designed to be taken down, moved, and set up again.  It is flexible.  Soft.  Not rigid.  It goes to the people where they are.  There is no security of place, perhaps, but in exchange for that security, it moves, lives, and meets the people where they are.  It is humble.

Once a temple is built, the place of worship is well, literally set in stone.  From that moment on, the practice of Israelitish worship changed profoundly.  The priesthood no longer went to the people; the people had to come to the priesthood.  Worshipers, no matter how far away they lived nor how poor they were, were expected to travel to the temple location in southernmost Canaan to worship “properly.”  The center of worship no longer moved around among the people according to God’s leadership, it was locked down to one place, and under the priesthood’s leadership. 

Because of this, worship inevitably became about the place and the building itself, not about the living, moving God.  The temple itself and its rituals became what was sacred.  In fact, when the temple was eventually torn down, the people no longer knew who they were, nor how to follow God without the temple.  This is a common spiritual story, yes?  When we are sure we have IT—when we think we have “arrived”—we stop learning. Religious certainty brings arrogance, self-centeredness, spiritual laziness, and a disconnection from reliance on the living God.

This inner shift happens every time we let rituals and habits and external customs replace or serve as a substitute for conscious, loving, attentive faith.  It is when law takes over from gospel. It is when formulaic answers take over from thoughtful reflection.  It reflects the times and ways we get attached to our traditions and “the way things have always been” and the familiar comforting faces, and we stop hearing how God might be calling us to welcome the stranger and be open to new spiritual life. 

Physically and metaphorically, stones provide security and power.  Stones make great foundations.  (And they are great for hurling at other folks, though perhaps that is not what we are meant to do with them.)  Stones are just what we need to keep from being washed away in a flood or blown away in a wind-storm.  But stones are not flexible.  They are not easily moved.  And they make lousy tents.  They are like bones—essential for support, but never meant to replace flexible, living muscles.

What follows almost immediately upon completion of the Temple in the Biblical story arc is division, corruption, breakdown and collapse, disintegration and death.  The final stories in the Old Testament are all about the loss of integrity in the Davidic line, the steady, systematic destruction of the great kingdom of Israel, and the eventual exile of what was left of the Israelitish nation into Babylon.  Bit by bit, Israel loses its center until finally the temple itself is destroyed.  We are left with stories of exile, and pages and pages of prophetic wailing.

 

Psalm 137 “By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept when we remembered Zion.” 

“Zion” is a metaphor for Jerusalem, for the temple, and the whole land of Israel.  In our personal lives Zion represents the center of all in which we have built our trust.  The center of our hopes and dreams.  The center of our universe.  Our spiritual and emotional foundation.  When we place our trust in something that is not spiritual, it is inevitable that it will let us down.

The building, the grandeur, and the eventual fall of the temple hold a metaphor about our spiritual journey.  It is the story of the destruction of inflexible, non-inclusive spiritual attitudes in the human race, and in each human heart.  God allows us to build these inflexible doctrines and beliefs in our hearts if we insist.  We do love security! But God cannot allow us to continue in such rigidity, or all that is truly spiritual in us will die.  Though the Hebrew Testament ends here, it is not the end of the story.  It is time for a paradigm shift.  In our spiritual hearts, the stone temples we have built must fall in order to set the stage for “Jesus” to come.  God incarnate, living, breathing, and walking beside us with a voice and a heartbeat wants to enter our story.  For the living God to come, the old and the rigid must be broken down.

God never commands us to build a “temple.”  God prefers to live in our hearts in a tent.  It is we who crave the certainty, the stability, and the … well, laziness we can relax into once we set our beliefs in stone—once we make church about membership standards or what people should believe—about buildings and rules, about in and out, about the right people and the wrong people.  We do this.  Humans do this with religion. It is so comfortable!  And individually, we all tend to cycle through phases of this in our own journey as well.  That is why this story is in the Bible.  We don’t have to do this, but most of us do do this at some time or another. 

We find this metaphor even within our human bodies.   Born soft and full of cartilage, with skull bones that float over the surface of our brains, we begin to harden from the moment of birth.  We ossify.  Much of this is necessary, or we would be too vulnerable and our bones would be too soft to support our weight when we stand. But we continue to stiffen and become increasingly rigid if we do not steadily work at our fitness and flexibility.  Unless we make an effort, we will relentlessly devolve into spiritual and physical gristle and bone.

Keeping our physical muscles fully flexible means we must constantly work to break down the adhesions and small strips of scar tissue that inevitably build up within them.  The breakdown of those hardening tissues can be pretty uncomfortable at times.  But the breakdown is necessary if we are to continue to choose a full and flexible life.  (Can you tell I do yoga?) This is true spiritually too.  Individually and as a congregation, it can sometimes be uncomfortable—it can even hurt a little—to do the stretching and moving we need to do to stay vibrantly alive as a spiritual community.  What were once dreams too easily settle into old patterns and habits.  Those old habits and patterns will get in the way of our growth if we do not regularly reexamine, renew, and revitalize our traditions and practices, attitudes and ideas.

In the face of any pain, the human tendency is to clench and to resist, not relax.  We often hold our breath. Letting go is the last thing we feel inclined to do.  But whenever we can breathe more deeply and let go just a little, we find relief and growth.  A few more fibers ease up.  A joint creaks open another fraction.  In fact we find increasing ease of movement and joy in living when we repeatedly expose ourselves to any intentional growth discipline. Despite the occasional discomfort, it is SO good for us to keep moving, be it through a yoga class or spiritual growth group, through running or Bible Study, swimming or psychotherapy.

The breaking down of our attachments can really hurt.  But it is necessary.  And according to the Bible, it is breaking ground for something better.

You see, the arc of the Bible ends in the Holy City.  It is a city with twelve gates, all open wide, where everyone can enter and no one need leave.  And look! the tree of life is right there in the center, and so is the River, and there are all sorts of wonderful fruits to eat….  It is as if we never really left Eden at all.  Or maybe Eden was the foretaste or promise of what awaits us at the end of our journey. Maybe God has had a plan all along. 

Are you struggling with dying dreams and stiffening hopes?  Just let go.  Breathe.  Trust. God may be breaking down your dying tissues so that you can live again.  Remember, the Temple must come down for Jesus to be born.  And the loss of Jesus leads to the Holy City.  So just let go. You don’t need to know what is being broken down nor what is coming next.  Just keep breathing.  Keep showing up, and keep letting go.  There really is beauty in the breakdown.

Revised from a sermon preached Aug 22, 2010

Musical interlude was the following:

Daniel Nahmod: “I Don’t Need To Know”

When things go wrong, it's natural to wonder  

What celestial rule did I break?  

When things go right, it’s logical to ponder  

What credit can I take?  

But the truth is so much easier  

I don't need a master plan  

I can live here in the moment  

'Cause my life is in good hands  

  

(chorus)  

I don't need to know where the wind blows 

'Cause God knows 

I don't need to know what the future holds 

'Cause God knows 

I need never know how pain ends 

How my heart mends 

I can just let go 

'Cause God knows   

But still I find I'm crying out for answers  

Guess I'm still craving control  

And still I find I'm afraid of taking chances  

As if I could damage my soul  

But at this moment, I remember  

It comes so clear to me  

That the minute I surrender  

I'm as safe as I could be  

  (chorus)

The Readings 

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13

When King David was settled in his palace and the Lord had given him rest from all the surrounding enemies, ² the king summoned Nathan the prophet. “Look,” David said, “I am living in a beautiful cedar palace, but the Ark of God is out there in a tent!”

³ Nathan replied to the king, “Go ahead and do whatever you have in mind, for the Lord is with you.”

⁴ But that same night the Lord said to Nathan,

⁵ “Go and tell my servant David, ‘This is what the Lord has declared: Are you the one to build a house for me to live in? ⁶ I have never lived in a house, from the day I brought the Israelites out of Egypt until this very day. I have always moved from one place to another with a tent and a Tabernacle as my dwelling. ⁷ Yet no matter where I have gone with the Israelites, I have never once complained to Israel’s tribal leaders, the shepherds of my people Israel. I have never asked them, “Why haven’t you built me a beautiful cedar house?”’

“‘Furthermore, the Lord declares that he will make a house for you—a dynasty of kings! ¹² For when you die and are buried with your ancestors, I will raise up one of your descendants, your own offspring, and I will make his kingdom strong. ¹³ He is the one who will build a house—a temple—for my name. And I will secure his royal throne forever.

Mark 13: 1-8

13 As Jesus was leaving the Temple that day, one of his disciples said, “Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls.”

² Jesus replied, “Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another!”

³ Later, Jesus sat on the Mount of Olives across the valley from the Temple. Peter, James, John, and Andrew came to him privately and asked him, ⁴ “Tell us, when will all this happen? What sign will show us that these things are about to be fulfilled?”

⁵ Jesus replied, “Don’t let anyone mislead you, ⁶ for many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah.’ They will deceive many. ⁷ And you will hear of wars and threats of wars, but don’t panic. Yes, these things must take place, but the end won’t follow immediately. ⁸ Nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in many parts of the world, as well as famines. But this is only the first of the birth pains, with more to come.

Heavenly Secrets 8165:2 Each person's power is limited, and when temptation stretches you to the absolute limit of your power, and you cannot stand up to anything further, you let go and begin to fall. Only then, when you have let go and started to fall, can the Lord catch you, lift you up, and deliver you from your despair. Frequently a person is then brought into a clear state of hope and comfort, and even into a state of bliss. Swedenborg,