Showing posts with label spiritual home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual home. Show all posts

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Welcome Home - sermon for Sept 13


“Welcome Home”

Rev. Alison Longstaff, Sept 13, 2015
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem
Exodus 29:28-46; John 14 portions; Heavenly Secrets 10153 

Welcome back!  Welcome home!

It is a wonderful feeling, this feeling of coming home.  Humans need a sense of home more than we need anything else.  After any trauma or even just after a rough day, our first instinct is to go home—home, where we are safe; home, where we can rest and heal; home, where we can be truly ourselves; home, where we are loved exactly the way we are.

We all know this truth about home, and this is the home we all long for at the end of a long day.

Unfortunately, many people in this world do not get to have that experience of “home.” From foster children who are bounced around our social system, to families struggling with troubled dynamics, to the terrible plight of today’s Syrian refugees, there are many are in this world who have no consistently safe home to which they can go at the end of the day. 

Home.  In the human hierarchy of needs, home is foundational.  It is a level one need to have shelter and physical self-care. It includes the level two need for safety and security as well.

There is a primal human need for home.  “Home” is where we go to be restored and to find our center both naturally and spiritually.  We need to return to ourselves, to gather ourselves, to rest in safety and prepare for the coming day. That is why we feel such a strong need to go home when we have had a hard day.

Just this past week a friend was voicing her distress over the plight of the Syrian refugees.  You see, she knows what it is like to be a refugee. She fled Eastern Europe as a child all those years ago.  Her family had only a suitcase and the clothes on their backs.  She remembers to this day what it felt like, and feels keenly for these Syrians.

Can you imagine having to leave your home and country forever, not knowing if you would ever come back?  This is not selling your home to go to a new one.  This is walking away from the only home you have. I have heard from several friends in California who have been going through something similar, having time to grab only a few possessions before fleeing the wild-fires; not knowing if they will ever see their home and possessions again. Most of us cannot even imagine the scope of the rootlessness and sense of disorientation such a leaving can cause. 

Refugees are lucky if they even have time to stuff a few things into a suitcase.  Everything else gets left behind.  Now imagine that you must throw even that one suitcase of belongings away to save someone else.  Into the tossing waves or the fires go your most precious books and keepsakes—the family treasures, the spare clothes, important papers—everything.  You have nothing left but your life and your clothes, and if you are lucky, your family.
 
Do you feel that?  That compassion that you may be feeling is the presence of God within you.  That sympathy and that heartbreak are the Holy Spirit speaking in your heart.  God hurts when we hurt.  We are created such that we hurt when others are hurting.  That basic human empathy is the fabric of our souls—it is our birthright—to feel joy with and for others and to feel shock and sorrow with and for others.  That energetic movement—that e-motion—is the stirring of your spiritual blood, for you are made of love.

I think of all the thousands of people who stepped up to help at ground zero in the days and weeks following the 911 attacks.  Their sense of empathy and connection compelled them to give aid any way they could. Massage therapists and trauma counselors, volunteers to deliver water and sandwiches, truck drivers and hands that unloaded trucks, each heart found a way to serve according to their call. Each one was equally valuable and needed, yes, from the elite trauma and bereavement counselors all the way down to the Porta Potty service workers who made sure the hordes of volunteers had somewhere to, um, “go.”

Somewhere to go.  Yes, even including the euphemism, isn’t that what home is all about? 

We need a home to go to.  We need repeatedly to go home.  This church is a home for many of us here, and we don’t know what we would do without it.


Home. Home is where we are safe. Home is where we can rest and heal. Home is where we can relax and be ourselves and are loved anyway. Home is the place where we belong.

I hope this church feels just that way for each person here.  If you see this place as your home church I hope it feels safe and healing, accepting and supportive.  My experience is that this congregation does pretty amazingly well at these things for each other.  My experience is also that a few among this group are excellent at welcoming spiritual refugees. Several make an effort to invite new people back to their homes to build a better sense of welcome and inclusion. For those who do, well done!

In the deepest spiritual sense, God is our home.  The God of Love is what we have come from and to whom we will return. As our truest home, God ought to be our number-one go-to haven to Whom we bring all our hurts and all our trust. Is it true that God is the One to whom you turn when you need to rest and heal? Is it true that God is the One with whom you can be truly and completely yourself knowing that God loves you exactly the way you are?  Do you live and move and have your being in God?

Does that describe your relationship with God?  Does that describe your abiding inner emotional experience of God?

If so, you are among the very few and very lucky.

If not, you are like most people. Your answer may have been closer to, “Well, not exactly….”

Just for the record, while I know with my whole head, that God is my safest haven, I have trouble remembering that and acting on it.  I have trouble trusting that it is really true.  I have trouble living that truth.  (Some might say that that disqualifies me from being a good pastor.  But from within my socks and shoes, I think it at least makes me an honest pastor, and a pastor that knows what it is like to struggle to remember the genuine reality of God’s love.  What is the old saying? “Them as can’t, teach?”)  Even Mother Theresa struggled with her faith, so maybe I’m in good company.  And so if you are like me, you are in Mother Theresa’s company too.
 
Why is it that we have so much trouble making God our home, or what is the same thing, making our home in God?  Why don’t we simply trust God and from then on live in “the peace that passes all understanding”?

Swedenborg would say that our difficulty being able to sense and believe in the Divine presence is the natural result of our being temporarily stuck in physical bodies.  He would say that while we all have spiritual senses that will awaken after this physical body dies, meanwhile those senses are dulled, bogged down, or even switched off while we are conscious in these dense physical bodies. These physical eyes and ears are designed to see and hear physical things, not spiritual things.  And when we are plugged in to this physical reality which is so very, well, REAL to us, it is well-nigh impossible to believe in anything else. It is a bit like being a fish, with eyes and ears and senses designed to work in water.  While we live in the water, we have almost no idea what is going on above the water and may have trouble believing such a reality even exists.

Not only are our spirits cloaked in physical bodies, it often seems that when we need God the most, God is nowhere to be “seen”!  Of course we lose faith!  It takes training to learn to see God in the midst of the darkest times, and often our own anger and disappointment and sense of abandonment create a block to our inner senses.  We become so disillusioned about God that we don’t even want to hear an explanation of where God was when we needed Him/Her.  But if we look at our mortal condition through the eyes of love, it is hard to feel judgment for our understandable struggle to believe.  Of course we doubt and look elsewhere for security and comfort! It is only, well, natural.

Exactly.

I almost wonder if God designed our mortal condition the way it is to encourage us “grow up” spiritually.  How many of us would ever leave the comfort of God’s arms if we weren’t drawn irresistibly away?  How many children would learn to walk or run or do things for themselves if they never left their mother’s lap?  Looking back over my spiritual evolution, I strongly suspect that I would NEVER have left the spiritual nest or learned to fly if God hadn’t gently but firmly pushed me out.

Perhaps we cannot truly appreciate God as our safe haven until we have lived for a long time without that presence?  Rather like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, perhaps we need to go somewhere very different for a while, because the struggle to find our way back teaches us to value what we had all along.  Perhaps it is the way God sets us down a few steps away and then beckons with parental arms and an encouraging smile, “Now come back to me!  You can do it!” and waits to sweep us up in joy when our faltering steps make our haphazard way back to the Divine embrace.

That is how we grow stronger.  That is how we learn to become spiritual adults. And God sets us down again and again, inviting us back. And we grow stronger with each step.

Before we end, I will just dip briefly into the gems of the internal meaning of John 14.  John 14 starts with, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  It starts with, “Don’t worry so much!”

The rest of the chapter is about finding our way back home, which is couched in a discussion of the Father and the Son being one.  Father is “concept” and Son is “action.” Father is “intention” and Son is “fulfillment.” These two things MUST become one in our lives, or they are without meaning or power. When Jesus commands, “You believe in God, believe also in Me,” he is saying, “You love the idea of God, now realize that you must walk the path I set before you to find your way home.  You’ve got the ideas; now start living them.”

But Philip (representing us) says, “Show us the father and we will be satisfied.”  “Philip” means “a lover of horses.”  “Horses” in the Word always symbolize our understanding, so “Philip” is our love of ideas.  Philip is saying, “Isn’t if good enough if we just think and talk about the ideas?”  This shows our reluctance to make changes in our way of living.  WE are satisfied by just having shiny and interesting ideas.  We balk at allowing God’s teachings to transform our feelings and lives.  This is rejecting a lived theology (Jesus).  There is a part of us that is happy to keep God as a concept, far away, up in the sky, not right here, down on the ground, in this moment and in this choice.

Jesus says, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?”  He is saying, “I have walked with you and asked you to walk with me.  I have loved you and asked you to love me, and still you are saying, ‘I’d rather just keep it all about ideas, okay?’”

The only possible answer to that is, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”  Keeping the commandments means allowing the golden rule to guide us. It means that the learning we do in this space shows up in a transformed life out there.  It means that we become more aware day by day of how we are not as kind as we might be, or not as trusting as we might be, or not as wise as we might be, and we make small changes. It is in these moment by moment wobbly choices that we take our baby steps back to our true home.  God’s love and wisdom find their home in our lives through small, daily changes.

John 14 ends with, “Let us arise and go from here.”  Jesus is saying is time to walk the walk, not just talk the talk. It is time to move on towards our true spiritual home, which is with God.

The closer we draw to this state of spiritual homecoming, the closer we will get to that place where we feel most alive and most ourselves.  Yes, it takes work, but the more we do the work, the better the work feels, until the life of heaven becomes something we love and which gives us joy.

May you continue to walk towards your truest home, for as you do, the more clearly you will hear and feel God’s message in your hearts:

“Welcome back. Welcome home!”

The Readings
Exodus 29: 38-46 portions “Now this is what you shall offer on the altar: two lambs of the first year, day by day continually.  This shall be a continual burnt offering throughout your generations at the door of the tabernacle of meeting before the Lord, where I will meet you to speak with you.  I will dwell among the Israelites, and I will be their God. And they shall know that I am the Lord their God, who brought them out of the land of Egypt that I might dwell among them; I am the Lord their God.

John 14: 1, 8-9, 18, 23, 27, 31 
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in Me.
Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”  
Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?
“I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. 
“If you love Me, keep My commandments; and My Father will love you, and We will come to you and make Our home with you. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. 
But that the world may know that I love the Father, I live as he commanded me. Arise, let us go from here.

Heavenly Secrets 10153. 
The statement, “And I will dwell in the midst of the children of Israel” from Exodus is describing a spiritual dynamic. It is describing the way the Lord flows into and is present within the loving-kindness of those “in heaven” and those “in the Church.” “In the midst” is describing those things that live most deeply inside us, which always starts out good because it is from God.

The Lord flows into and is present within a person’s kindness and good intentions, which are always from the Divine Love. This goodness is each person's true self, for each person’s character is made of good desires. “Goodness,” here means what we love; everything we love we call “good” anyway.


Sunday, May 4, 2014

"Home" a sermon

Home
"Open House Sunday"
Rev. Alison Longstaff, May 4, 2014
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem
Isaiah 33:20-22; Rev 21:1-4; Heavenly Secrets 7560

I was in one of my coffee groups not too long ago, and as is our custom, we were taking turns sharing what was on our hearts.  For some of us there, this group is one of the only safe places where we can be completely honest and be completely ourselves.  We have a group agreement that no one will judge, nor interrupt, nor give advice.  Each member is loved and accepted unconditionally.

That morning a wise and kind older woman, let’s call her “Anya” was describing her day. She and her husband have an adult child with a mildly diminished mental capacity who lives with them.  This adult child has a child who also lives with them.  The adult child has trouble holding onto jobs and trouble managing her behaviorally challenged son.  At an age when many of their peers are enjoying retirement, “Anya” and her husband are still parenting this young mother and now also needing to be the parents of her demanding little boy.  “Anya” was so weary and discouraged, and my heart ached for her.  It struck me that her home—the place where we are supposed to be able to go to rest and be safe—was regularly a place of chaos and disruption and drama.  Do to no fault of her own, nor even her daughter’s, “Anya’s”  home was not a safe haven for her.  It was not a place where she could rest.  It was full of chaos, and she saw no way to change that.

Home.  What does that word evoke in your mind?  For me it brings to mind “The Walton’s”, or that famous image of a Thanksgiving meal by Norman Rockwell.  Home should mean family, and family should mean safety and unconditional love, but all too often these things do not go together.  Too many people feel neither truly safe not truly loved.  Too many have to make a home away from their family, if they wish to feel safe.  If both your home and your family are safe and loving, consider yourself very lucky!

A church is a home too.  It is a spiritual home, and when a church runs well, it is definitely a place of unconditional love, acceptance, and spiritual and emotional safety.  That is what church should be, and that is what we should expect.  Unfortunately, all too often church is only some of these, or none of these things.  And when our church family hurts or betrays us, the wound cuts very deep.  Perhaps, while we expect our family to be crazy sometimes, we expect our church to be better, more perfect, to reflect God’s love all the time.
 
When our church gets mired in conflict, or personalities clash and start recruiting members to take sides, or when our church changes from a pastor we love to a pastor we can’t stand seem to feel good about, we can feel profoundly disillusioned, even abandoned or betrayed.  Losses such as these surrounding our church home are real and painful and occur all too often in our society.  Yet they also remain unnoticed and unacknowledged.  We understand the aching losses when someone says, “my dog just died,” or “my baby went away to college,” or “we had to sell our house,” or “he had a stroke and can no longer drive.”  But how comfortable are we in saying, or hearing with quiet sympathy, “we got a new pastor that I just can’t warm up to,” or “I can’t believe the behavior of the people at my church; it makes me feel ashamed,” or “I understand the value of the new style of worship, but I miss the old rituals so very much sometimes!”  We are more likely to placate or advise, which is never as helpful as simply listening to the pain.

Our spiritual attachments and what we find spiritually meaningful is deeply personal, yet as a culture we have a long way to go in respecting each other’s spiritual territory.  We all could afford to undergo “spiritual sensitivity training.”  Perhaps this is due to the longstanding Christian culture of dutifully attempting to invalidate and replace every spirituality the missionaries encountered.  From a pastoral and psychological perspective, that is spiritual violation.  It is profoundly disrespectful, and it is small wonder that such Christian colonization has left a trail of cultural genocide and abuse in its wake.  yes, Christianity has done a lot of good.  But I cannot gloss over the harm and abuse that is also a real part of the legacy.
 
Some visitors here today are spiritual nomads, forever wandering from group to group, taking what you like and leaving the rest, self-sufficient in your own spirituality, (which can be quite healthy).  Welcome.  May you find rest in your soul.  I certainly understand why so many choose not to trust or belong again in any church home, because of bad experiences with poorly behaved or poorly managed congregations.

Others here today were born and raised in this very church home, and can only imagine what it is like to have been deeply hurt by and lose their church home, or even what it is like to have to search and search for a spiritual home before finding one.

There are probably as many spiritual stories as there are people in this room.  What is your story?

In our scripture readings today, we heard Jerusalem called “a quiet home.” In fact the promise is that the New Jerusalem will be a place where “God will dwell with us, and wipe every tear from our eyes.”  Doesn’t that describe the spiritual home of which we all dream? That is what every church and spiritual organization should be, though many (all?) are not.
 
Emanuel Swedenborg—from whom this denomination gets its name, (rather the way Lutherans are named from Martin Luther)—prophesied that this “New Jerusalem” found in the Book of Revelation, represents a new, inclusive spirituality that will grow among all humankind.  This “New Jerusalem” will be new precisely because it will not be exclusive.  It will honor and respect the goodness and truth in all people and all religions.

Swedenborg says that we are all called to do our inner work—to undertake the metaphoric “hero’s journey,” if you will—where each one works continuously to grow in insight and compassion.  The idea is that if and when the human race can grow into such a collectively compassionate, enlightened, and responsible overall state, heaven on earth will indeed draw much closer.  What is promised in Revelation and named “The New Jerusalem” is the hope of such a universal human compassion and wisdom—a world full of millions of little Dalai lamas, if you will—only from many different spiritual origins and flavors. 

Yes, this funky little historic church is named “The Church of the New Jerusalem,” after that vision, not in any illusion that we are the embodiment of that long-awaited world state, but with the intention that we will strive towards it, day by day, step by step.  Are we a perfect spiritual home?  Not on your life, though we wish we were.  Have people been hurt here?  Yes indeed.  All we can do is express our remorse and do our best to make amends and to see that such mistakes don’t happen again.  We try to see this home like spiritual family—we love each other anyway, even if we have crazy moments and sometimes we drive each other a little nuts.  That’s what love is and that’s what family does.

Home.  What does the word mean to you? 

Does the word tug at your heart the way it tugs at mine? 

What does the ideal mean to you, and how does it compare to what you come home to every day?  No doubt everyone in this room knows at least one person whose foundation is a troubled and chaotic home, like that of “Anya” described at the opening of this sermon.  If you are so lucky as to have a home that is safe and restful, take this moment to breathe a prayer of gratitude.  And let’s all of us, stop right now for a moment to hold in our hearts and prayers all the souls who must survive somehow, day by day, in homes that are not perhaps emotionally or psychologically or physically safe.

For some of us, this church group is perhaps one of the only safe spaces where we can come and begin to be completely ourselves and be completely heard.  This congregation has a group agreement that we will not judge, nor interrupt, nor give advice (though each of us sometimes forgets).  May it ever be a place where each comer is loved and accepted unconditionally.


I have come a long way from my home in Canada to make a new home here.  I have fallen in love with this great town, and especially with this tiny, magical congregation.  Those who have lived in Maine a long time love to share the state they love with visitors, hoping they will love it too, and hoping they will fall so in love that they will stay. That’s a lot like how we feel about this little church.  We love it when others come to visit.  And we really love it when somebody decides to stay. But whether you just visit sometimes, or you move in and join us, you are welcome here, any time!  Your presence is a blessing no matter what.

Amen


Readings:
Isaiah 33: 20-22
20 Look upon Zion, the city of our appointed feasts;
Your eyes will see Jerusalem, a quiet home,
A tabernacle that will not be taken down;
Not one of its stakes will ever be removed,
Nor will any of its cords be broken.
21 But there the majestic Lord will be for us
A place of broad rivers and streams,
In which no galley with oars will sail,
Nor majestic ships pass by
22 For the Lord is our Judge,
The Lord is our Lawgiver,
The Lord is our King;
He will save us

Revelation 21: 1-4 Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”

Heavenly Secrets 7560. My paraphrase of the Latin To ‘be gathered home' means to be placed in safe keeping. Spiritually a 'home' or a 'house' refers to the inner part of a person’s mind where compassion and right-thinking reside. It is the capacities for compassion and right-thinking that make someone truly human, and that essentially is the real person.   Because this inner mind is the seat of goodness and truth with a person, and the capacities of compassion and right-thinking dwell there, the Lord keeps this region utterly safe and protected deep inside each person.

By Emanuel Swedenborg