October: Courage

“The secret to happiness is freedom… And the secret to freedom is courage.” Thucydides

There are many jokes about the propensity of Unitarian Universalists to revel in questions. One of my favorites is “that when we die, there are two choices: heaven and a discussion of heaven. All the Unitarian Universalists are in the discussion of heaven.”

I think it is true that we not only welcome questions, but seek them out. It is also true though that what most people come to church for is not more questions. They have enough ranging from the personal to the global. Questions as serious as: How do I get through this part of my life? What will the environment be like in 25 years, and what can I do? Is there any purpose at all to this religious, church stuff? These are great questions, but we don’t need to provide those. They come ready-made inside most of us.

I think in truth whether we admit it or not, most of us come to a church not for questions, but answers. At least responses. We don’t need a special community to help us think of questions. We need something more. And here is maybe a shocker for some of you: I think we have answers.

The answers we provide are not prescriptive or dogmatic necessarily, though we can provide those if that’s helpful. But over time, organically, I think this church teaches a certain response to the life we’ve been given to live. Some of the qualities of that response are patience, holy impatience, gratitude, and awe. Patience is our capacity to live within our given circumstances without running or living in denial. I think any meaningful path starts here, with learning to accept where we are. Holy impatience is not the same as run-of-the-mill impatience. This particular brand of impatience compels us to do what we can while we can to benefit others, including ourselves, not waiting for someone else to do it. Gratitude is a natural response to realizing the frailty and preciousness of life. We come to be grateful for all that is our life, practicing holy impatience for the things we can change in a given moment, practicing patience for the things we can’t. Awe comes from all these practices, and this is maybe the beginning and end of all practices.

As I write this, I’m reflecting on the “Days of Awe” in the Jewish tradition which recently passed. It’s the process of becoming at one with our life, “atoned.” It’s a process and practice of admitting what is true, seeking forgiveness, and opening to a mystery beyond our judgements.

All of this leads to what can be called courage. It’s a humble courage though, not full of bravado or fanfare. It’s not a posture or a special badge we wear. This courage comes from slowly but surely being able to live our own life, whatever that life might entail, and still have the ability to encourage others. Our ability to find courage is directly related to our ability to encourage: to give others courage. I think of individuals who, in the midst of the most horrendous predicaments in human history, still encouraged those around them: with a piece of bread, a gentle look. These responses to moral horror show me the true power of a church like ours. These people were not giving others questions in their time of need, but encouragement.

That encouragement gives us access to something worth feeling awe about. A freedom of spirit that knows horror and pain, and yet is not limited by it. This is not a fairytale or wishful thinking. Generations of people throughout the world have shown through their living that this is possible, maybe even more possible in situations where it seems less likely.

So I’m looking forward to seeing you in church, one of the places where we learn how to welcome encouragement. In so doing, we receive the heart of courage firsthand for the benefit of all creatures on this earth.

In Faith, Rev. Joseph