Sermon - Learning to Live in Spiritual Community

     I recently heard about an older couple who on the occasion of their golden wedding anniversary, found themselves having a very busy day. A nonstop procession of family and friends came to their home to offer their congratulations. Toward evening, as the commotion died down, they finally sat alone on the porch, watching the sunset and basking in the afterglow of the celebration. The old man gazed fondly at his wife and said, "Agatha, I'm proud of you!" "What was that you said? You know I'm hard of hearing. Say it louder." "Agatha, I said, I'm proud of you." O that's all right dear," she said, "I'm tired of you too."

     In every relationship there are times when we think we hear what is being said but it turns out we are hearing something altogether different. Relationships can be confusing. Sometimes our relationships are the death of us, sometimes they give us life. But like it or not, human beings are made and meant for each other. As T.S. Eliot put it, "What life have you if not life together?"

     From the day we are born until we breathe our last, our lives are defined by intertwining relationships-with partners, spouses, family and friends. Sometimes we can't live with them, sometimes we can't live without them.

     In the movie Annie Hall, Woody Allen plays Alvy Singer, who at the end of the movie tells the story about a guy who goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, my brother's crazy. He thinks he's a chicken." And the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" And the guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much how I feel about relationships. Y'know, they're totally irrational and crazy and absurd; but I guess we keep going through it because most of us need the eggs.

     Jim Ashbrook was a member, a leader in this congregation for many years, who passed away some years back. Whenever Jim walked in here on Sunday mornings, inevitably someone would say, "Hi Jim, it's great to see you." And always he would answer, "It's nice to be seen." It's nice to be seen. It's nice to be recognized. It's important to have one's very existence acknowledged. To be seen by others is a primal need. Our children sometimes call out to us, "Watch me-look at me!"

     How many of us have sat with friends after dinner, and while visiting, the children would come out and announce they are going to put on a show for the adults. They come out strutting, dancing, spouting off, giggling all the way - they have our attention, they have been seen. This is a primal need and one that endures throughout life. Even if we are born shy, there remains in us the hope that someone, somewhere, will see us, validate our existence, recognize us as living, breathing creatures. But it's not only nice to be seen, we all have a need to be seen.

     This being true, I registered concern to hear several members of Lake Street Church express that they had been feeling invisible - unseen by others in this community. They admitted they had chosen to be on the periphery of church life, but still they expressed the need to be acknowledged. This longing to be seen is not a desire that anyone would make a big fuss, or a big deal out of it. It's simply the innate human need to have someone say, "I see you. You are alive - I honor your presence - I celebrate your life, you are somebody."

     Lately I have been thinking a great deal about what it means to be a part of a spiritual community like ours. Not only do human beings have a need to be seen - but we all yearn to be understood. We all need to be accepted without judgment and cared for without qualification. As I have been thinking about the meaning of spiritual community I have been pondering Parker Palmer's latest book, A Hidden Wholeness. His description of what it means to be an authentic community is entirely consistent with the ethos of Lake Street Church. This book will help us explore in a deeper way, who we already are.

     We have just concluded another Adult Inquiry group, the purpose of which is to welcome newcomers to Lake Street Church. Whenever we hold inquiry groups inevitably someone asks the question, "So what do you have to believe in order to become a member of this church?" The answer is always the same. No theological belief is required. Being a member of this church has nothing to do with believing in a doctrine, a creed or any other list of beliefs drawn up by others who claim to know or have the truth. This is when we talk about the Baptist principle known as soul liberty. Unfortunately, most Baptists in this country have never even heard of this historic Baptist distinction. Soul liberty is derived from the belief that the soul is to be trusted - the soul has an inherent dignity, nobility and integrity of its own. But when we speak of the soul, what are we speaking of?

     Hindus call the call it the atman, the "true self." Buddhists usually refer to this essence as our original nature. Hasidic Jews call it a spark of the divine. Quakers call it the inner light. The great medical missionary of the early 20th Century, Albert Schweitzer, called it the Physician within. It really doesn't matter what we call it. Being Spirit, the soul cannot be defined, contained or limited by words. Whatever we call it, it always functions as the life force within us and it is the very core of our humanity.

     To touch this inner core is, as Parker Palmer says, to meet the inner teacher. From the moment of our birth our parents teach us. In school our teachers educate us. In Sunday school people tell us about God. As we grow, we are surrounded by people who have something to teach us. People say to us, "Here, this is what you need to know. Listen here, this is the truth." Everybody tells us about external truths, truths handed down to us. But nobody ever gives us instruction on how to listen to the wisdom of our souls. No one speaks to us of the inner teacher. And this is where spiritual community comes in. To see and be seen by each other is the recognition that each of us is a soul and the soul is the inner teacher.

     All of which brings us to our Gospel lesson, which is a story about a moment in the life of a little spiritual community. This is a community of three. Mary and Martha welcome Jesus into their home. Immediately Mary sits down, and invites Jesus to sit. Instantly she is lost in the conversation. Mary is completely open. Implicitly she trusts Jesus. She feels safe.

     On the other hand, Martha has taken it upon herself not to sit, but to serve. She seeks to be the gracious hostess. As she works away preparing the food, she is struck by the fact that one more time, her sister sits there while she does all the work. Feeling a little edgy, she says to Jesus, "Can't you see my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her to help me." The fact that Martha resents Mary is probably a sign that Martha is serving not because she wants to, but because she feels she should. Whenever I read this story, there is some part of me that expects Jesus to say, "Martha, I'm sorry that we have been so insensitive. What were we thinking? Come on Mary, let's help Martha out. It's just not right for her to do it all." This story always brings to mind the need to turn Jesus into some sort of First Century Alan Alda-the sensitive, vulnerable and charming man for all seasons.

     But as usual, Jesus does not conform to expectations. When Martha complains about Mary's behavior, Jesus says, "Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, and only one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion which shall not be taken away from her."

     Usually these words are interpreted to mean that Mary has chosen to do the good thing by sitting down and having a little church chat with Jesus. But I am inclined to believe that when Jesus speaks of Mary choosing the good portion, he may be implying something deeper. There is clear evidence in the Gospels that when Jesus taught, he often answered questions not with an answer but with another question. Giving the definitive answer to a question usually ends the conversation. When someone claims to have the final answer, there's nothing else to say. But questions take us deeper. Though not a peer of the philosopher Socrates, he knew that the best and deepest answer to our questions comes when we allow the questions to lead us deeper within ourselves until we meet our inner teacher. Whenever we hear something that sounds true, it sounds true because it resonates with the truth that is already in us. Whenever we hear the truth, we recognize it as truth because at some level we've already seen this truth within ourselves. Mary sat with Jesus because Jesus created a safe and sacred space when he spoke. Mary opened up to her own inner teacher - her inner truth.

     Learning to live in a spiritual community is learning not to tell each other about the truth, but learning to ask each other the questions that help us listen more deeply to the inner teacher. The higher purpose of the spiritual community is not to fix, save or set people straight. The higher purpose is to help us help each other with the questions that open us to our own souls. As Parker Palmer says, "The soul is shy. It can't come out and express itself unless it feels safe."

     Just prior to the last presidential election, it was obvious that some of us felt uncomfortable with the electoral zeal of others of us. Because we are a liberal spiritual community, some assume that this church consists only of liberal Democrats. We are not only Democrats, but Republicans, Independents, and here and there, a Socialist or Communist may show up. But around the time of the election one of our Republican members remarked to me that she was feeling marginalized by comments that she took as Republican bashing. She said, "We welcome in Buddhists, Hindus and Muslims, homeless people - everyone-and that's great. But sometimes I have felt as though the welcome mat was not rolled out to me - unless I keep my mouth shut. Some people around here," she said, "don't know how to listen."

     Learning how to live in spiritual community means learning how to listen to and speak with each other. When for whatever reason we don't feel safe, the soul goes into hiding. When we are born into this world, we do not know how to live in a spiritual community. Learning how to live in a spiritual community is an acquired skill. A spiritual community is different from other communities because here we practice being with each other. Here we consciously seek not to invade or evade each other. Here we gather, listening with openness - here we practice speaking with compassion.

     Again, Parker Palmer reminds us, "Listen in on conventional conversations and see how often we respond to each other by agreeing, disagreeing, or simply changing the subject! We do not mean to be inhospitable to the soul, and yet we often are. By inserting our opinions and asserting our agendas, we advance our egos while the speaker's inner teacher retreats." But learning to listen without the need to fix, save, advise or set each other straight is what clears the way for the inner teacher to appear.

     And this is why there is no creed, no required doctrine, no theological litmus test for this spiritual community. We all have soul liberty. And we seek to create an atmosphere that invites the inner teacher to speak. Here we seek to create a safe and sacred space. Here we let go of our arrogance, of our precious need to be right or righteous. Here we honor the soul in ourselves and every mortal creature. Here, rather than correcting or confronting each other, we learn to correct and confront ourselves. Here we create together "a circle of trust, a tapestry of truth." Here we discover that the Truth is not found in the answers or conclusions we arrive at, but rather in how we choose to be related to each other, and how together, we choose to be related to the world.

Blessed be