A Network of Mutuality
January 14, 2007
Rev. Arthur Lavoie
CALL TO WORSHIP
I shall take my voice wherever
there are those who want to hear the melody of freedom or the words that might inspire hope and courage in the face of despair
and fear. My weapons are peaceful, for it is only by peace that peace can be
attained. The song of freedom must prevail.
Paul Robeson
READING
Yes, as nations and individuals,
we are interdependent. . . .
It really boils
down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable
network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one
directly, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the
interrelated structure of reality.
Did you ever stop to think
that you can’t leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and you go to the bathroom and reach over for the sponge, and that’s handed
to you by a Pacific Islander. You reach for a bar of soap, and that’s given
to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink
your coffee for the morning, and that’s poured into your cup by a South American.
And maybe you want tea: that’s poured into your cup by [someone who’s] Chinese. Or maybe you’re desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that’s poured into your cup by
a West African.
And then you reach over
for your toast, and that’s given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you’ve depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured, this is its interrelated quality. We aren’t going to have peace on earth until we recognize this basic fact of
the interrelated structure of all reality.
“A Christmas Sermon
on Peace,” The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr.
254
SERMON
Birmingham Alabama was
one of the central battlegrounds of the Civil Rights Movement. Among other things,
it is the place where four young girls were killed by a bombing of their church. In
March 2002, the Unitarian Universalist Minister’s Association held a convocation in Birmingham, and, along with hundreds
of other UU ministers, I got to see first hand some of the locations where these events took place.
There is a Civil Rights
Museum in Birmingham where I was able to witness on film some of the events of that era, where I was able to hear and read
some of the speeches that turned my stomach with their blatant racial violence and hatred, and then hear and read the responses
from Dr. King and others that were filled with hope, love, and the call to non-violence.
In the memorial park in
front of the museum there is a kind of meditative path you can follow that highlights the events of the Civil Rights Era. You turn a corner at one point and there are statues of large, fierce dogs, poised
to lunge and tear at your flesh, or fire hoses ready to overpower you and knock you to the ground. It was a memorable visit, one that I will always carry with me.
The further
removed we are from the 60’s and 70’s, the more easy it becomes to forget the terrible struggles and deprivations
that people suffered at that time and that many still suffer today.
“We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” For the story of that time and the story of those people is our story as well. Even those of us not yet born were affected by that era and by those difficult yet
victorious years.
And when I
read Dr. King’s words, as I have been this week, there are two things that continue to amaze me. One is the universal scope of his theology what he sometimes called “the interrelated structure of
reality,” and the other is his constant focus on peace and non-violence.
He certainly could have
narrowed his focus to the immediate crises faced by African Americans. Dr. King
could have used his power and influence to fight violence with violence. He certainly
had enough provocation. I’m sure he felt discouraged enough at times to
make him want to lash out at those who would oppress and terrorize him and his community.
But, instead,
he stayed true to his spiritual path and his religious ideals unto the end. Like
few other people, Dr. King was able to rise above the violence around him, was able to transcend his own feelings of rage
and despair, and it was his religious faith that led him and guided him in this prophetic leadership of his people.
“We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”
And what about us today?
Are we able to continually
choose the path of non-violence, of peace, and of hope in the face of whatever hurt or despair we encounter?
Is our faith strong enough
to withstand the challenges that we face or the suffering that we see around us?
Do we see ourselves as
part of a “network of mutuality, a single garment of destiny?”
When we experience suffering,
see the incalculable violence that happens on our streets and in our world, our first response may be to become overwhelmed,
to pull back, and to band together with those of our particular tribe or class. In
order to feel more safe and secure we sometimes create enemies out of those who are different from us. Maybe we think that the differences we see are threatening to us or to our way of life. Maybe we’ve always been taught to be suspicious of certain people.
But when we see someone as an enemy it becomes more and more difficult to see him or her as a real person, with hopes
and dreams like ours.
Dr. King writes:
“Our loyalties must
transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our nation; and this means we must develop a world perspective. No individual can live alone; no nation can live alone, and as long as we try, the more we are going to
have war in this world. Now the judgment of God is upon us, and we must either
learn to live together as brothers or we are all going to perish together as fools.
“A Christmas Sermon
on Peace,” The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr.
253
Sharon Salzberg is a Buddhist
teacher and cofounder of the Insight Meditation Society and the Barre Center for Buddhist Studies, both located in Barre,
Massachusetts.
In her book Faith, she speaks about the interrelated nature of reality and tells us that in Buddhist thought, our intentions
share the value of our words and deeds.
“When our intention,”
she writes, “is to do good for others, and we nurture that intention, we can have faith that in some way, often unknown
to us, it ripples out. . . .
Even when we
don’t know what to do to make things better for someone, or when whatever we do seems likely to be of little consequence,
we can have faith that we are not isolated individuals in a fragmented world. We
can have faith that the power of intention links our actions to a vast web of interconnection.
Sharon Salzberg, Faith, pg 144-145
But, when our intentions
are filled with hate and violence we diminish our own humanity in the attempt to diminish that of another. When we inflict violence with our intentions and our actions, we do more damage to ourselves than we can
ever do to another and tear at the fabric of our interconnectedness.
In her book, Faith, Sharon Salzberg tells 2 related stories. She writes:
“The
course U Pandita was teaching when I first met him was a three-month retreat. He
gave unusually extensive talks, translated by a superb interpreter. Later, several
friends and I decided to put out a book based on the course. We raised money
for the transcription and found an interested publisher.
I asked a friend who is
a writer, Kate Wheeler, to turn what was basically an oral transmission of classical Asian Buddhism into a manuscript that
would honor that tradition while also engaging the Western mind. She did a wonderful
job, and the book titled, In This Very Life, was published.
At the time of publication,
I thought, Well, we’ve done something good, something that honored our teacher
and that will be of some small service. It’s not going to be a best seller,
but it does express a certain teaching through very clear language, and it’s really an excellent vehicle for the limited
impact it will have. I more or less put it in the minor-good-deed category
in my mind.”
Sharon then tells the following
story:
“Aung San Suu Kyi,
leader of the pro-democracy movement in Burma has long been one of my heroes. Her
country, where many of my meditation teachers are from or have studied, is ruled by a brutal military dictatorship, and Suu
Kyi has dedicated her life to protesting their policies. In 1989 she was placed
under house arrest for her political activities. Her sons were sixteen and twelve
at the time, and she would not see them or her husband for many years. Refusing
to accept anything from the military, she didn’t even have enough money for food at times. She became so weak at one point her hair fell out and she couldn’t get out of bed.
For a brief
period the military released Suu Kyi before confining her again, and she was able to speak and write about her experience. In discussing her spiritual life, Suu Kyi wrote: ‘The spiritual dimension becomes
particularly important in a struggle in which deeply held convictions and strength of mind are the chief weapons against armed
repression.’
She related how her attempts
at meditation had foundered due to lack of instruction. She would sit on her
bed, gritting her teeth, trying to practice, but would only become tenser. And
then her husband sent her a book that changed everything. That book was U Pandita’s
In This Very Life. Through it she
had learned how to meditate, and it became the main source of spiritual support during those intensely difficult years.
I was stunned,” Sharon
writes, “when I heard that story. A Burmese teacher had come to Barre,
Massachusetts, we created this book, and somehow it ended up back in Burma in the hands of a woman I admired immensely and
would have given anything to help.”
“We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”
And we also are nourished
by this “network of mutuality,” this “garment of destiny.” When
I am following my spiritual path, when I am living my values with honesty and integrity I reap the benefits of that connection
to that greater whole. When I clothe myself in this “garment of destiny,”
I find myself filled with safety, confidence and hope. My questions are answered, I feel the tension and fear draining from my body and psyche and I feel less
isolated and alone.
What we do, what we think,
how we move in the world has an effect far greater than we can ever imagine. And
our Unitarian Universalist faith calls and challenges us to live lives of integrity and peace.
Our faith calls and challenges us to be bearers of healing and hope for a more just and equitable world. We can all make a difference in the dynamic process of interconnectedness in which we are but a single
strand.
The hymn we are about to
sing is known in some circles as the African American National Anthem. In his
address titled, “Where Do We Go From Here,” Dr. King referenced this hymn with the following words:
“Let this affirmation
by our ringing cry. It will give us the courage to face the uncertainties of
the future. It will give our tired feet new strength as we continue our forward
stride toward the city of freedom. When our days become dreary with low-hovering
clouds of despair, and when our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, let us remember that there is a creative force
in the universe, working to pull down the gigantic mountains of evil, a power that is able to make a way out of no way and
transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows. Let us realize the arc of the
moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.”
“Where Do We Go From
Here,” The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. pg.
252
Amen, Ashe and Blessed
Be