C3/CCC Sermon Transcript for February 18, 2007 Two weeks ago my family learnt how to ski. It wasn’t bad considering that we are a bunch of city slickers, and some of us had never seen snow before we moved here. It was a very spiritual experience, as all outer semblances of dignity and pride were stripped away. The mountain shows no preference. We were each in turn dumped unceremoniously in the snow. When I saw my wife of sixteen years, a woman of great class and beauty, flying down the hill at 100 m.p.h. and end up face first in the snow, icicles and snow dripping from her brow, there were tears. They weren’t tears of pain, they were tears of laughter. Then it was my turn and I still don’t even know how it is possible. I ended up with my skis crossed and dug into the snow, face down in the snow, completely unable to move. My six and four year olds stood by looking at me, laughing, with no interest in helping me at all. I had to wait for someone to ski by and release the locks, as the frost bite began to kick in. We had learnt to ski, but something far more significant happened as well- we laughed together, we laughed at each other, and we came closer together. We left that weekend as a tighter family unit because of the play that we enjoyed together. Play is powerful. Play is sacred. Mardi Gras a Beautiful Thing After the Storm During the week I caught up with a friend who was in New Orleans this time last year. She was part of a soup kitchen shortly after Hurricane Katrina hit, and served up many thousands of meals for those who were left homeless by the tragedy. She told me about the many conversation at the time about whether they should celebrate Mardi Gras. In the light of awful loss and death, was it appropriate for New Orleans to still celebrate Mardi Gras? The resounding answer was “Yes!” The feeling was that death and homelessness will be a challenge for some time to come, but they must celebrate Mardi Gras as a defiant ‘fist in the air,’ showing that grief will not have the last word. Through the creative play of Mardi Gras, they began to imagine a new reality for the city. Playing and partying together, the spirit of optimism would become the creative new beginnings for the city. Now take your mind back to this morning’s gospel reading (* see below). Can you see the parallels? A woman poured expensive perfume all over the head and body of Jesus. When the disciples suggest that she had acted wastefully, Jesus says, “Don’t trouble the woman. She has done a beautiful thing.” The disciples were scandalized, wondering how a woman could do such a thing; with so much poverty, how could the expense be justified? Jesus said, “you will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.” These words have often been misused in order to justify passiveness in the face of poverty. But I want to offer you a new way to look at those words. The first thing to keep in mind is that this woman was poor herself. The second is that there are a number of instances in the gospels where Jesus is taking care of poor people. So it does not seem likely that Jesus was saying to not care about poor people. Third, there are many instances where Jesus said; “I will be with you forever.” So how does it all gel? I want to suggest that this phrase is a riddle. It is what Zen would call a “Koan.” It is a phrase that is intended to cause a shift in perspective. So think about that phrase from this perspective: Jesus will always be present in the lives of poor people; Whenever anyone does a beautiful thing, Jesus is present. And so it will be forevermore. What does it mean for Jesus to be present? Maybe it means to be in the presence of Life being lived with integrity. Maybe it means to honor the sacred mystery that pervades the universe. Mardi Gras a Reminder to Seek the Sacred in Surprising Places Traditionally, Mardi Gras has been an opportunity for people to act outside of their normal circumstances, as the woman acted towards Jesus. It was the one time of the year when poor and working class people could dress up and mock the gentry, as if their fists were raised, saying that poverty will not have the last word. Traditionally during Mardi Gras, slaves could act like free people, as if their fists were in the air, defiantly saying, “We will be liberated.” Tragedy strikes- storms, loss of life, oppression and inequality, but we choose how we will respond. Mardi Gras reminds us to live as if we are raising our fists in defiance, and saying, “grief, while it is deep, while it hurts right now, will not have the last word. It will turn into something else, often when we play with it, shift it, learn to see it from a new perspective, then it will turn into something else again, and continue to turn into something else because no emotion is final. There is always more. Mardi Gras reminds us that play is one of the ways we can shift grief. The church has generally been very good at being reflective, and religion has always taught us that we find God when we are in church, or when we are praying, or being quiet and contemplative, but Mardi Gras reminds us that even in the most joyful moments in life, there too, is sacred mystery. Jesus is present whenever anyone does a beautiful thing. There is a great story from the Sufi branch of mystical Islam, which emerged in the 8th and 9th centuries. There was a man who lost his keys, and was searching underneath a streetlamp. A group of friends came by and saw him floundering on the ground, and asked him what he was doing. He told him he was looking for his lost keys, so they all got on the ground to help him search. After quite a few minutes of looking around on the ground, one asked, “Are you sure this is where you lost your keys?” The man replied, “No, I dropped them on the other side of the road.” His friends asked him, “So why are we looking over here?” He said to them- “We are looking here because there is more light on this side of the street.” This parable guides us in our Mardi Gras celebrations. It reminds us that we can look for sacred mystery in places we never imagined, and we can find it. Nothing is as it appears, and yet sometimes things are even more real than they appear. Every time we think we have the truth, and a world-view for everything that works in our life, something happens to shift it. We have to then look at life from a new perspective. Mardi Gras reminds us not to get stuck, and locked into a certain way of being religious, a certain way of being spiritual, and reminds us that all of life is an opportunity for sacred mystery. All of life is an opportunity for us to do beautiful things. Mardi Gras as a Fist in the Air to Grief This time yesterday, I heard the sad news about Bob Scheifele passing away. Earlier in the morning, Norma France had passed away as well. They had both been ill, but the end for both came suddenly. As I thought about the loss of these two dear community members, the question came to my mind, “Is it still appropriate for us to celebrate Mardi Gras in the light of this loss?” The answer comes from what we know of Bob and Norma- they would want us to celebrate Mardi Gras. They would want us to celebrate Mardi Gras as a celebration of life, of their lives, and of life that will go on and turn into something else, as a celebration of the positive spirit that they have brought to this world and as a celebration that there is always more. It is the best thing that we can do today to honor Bob and Norma. And when it comes time to have memorial services for them, and their families are gathered together, the occasions will be celebrations of all of life. The deep grief and loss will come with the knowledge that the deep grief and loss will turn into something else. And that will turn into something else as well. That’s the nature of life. No emotion is final, there is always more. And so, in honor today of Bob and Norma and their families, I stand before you with my fist raised in defiance of grief; grief that can be felt deeply, and then shifted into something else, at the right time. Billy Crystal wrote a very successful one-man show, entitled “700 Sundays”, about his family, and in particular about the death of his father. In the Jewish tradition they celebrate “Shiva”, which is a week of mourning. Crystal tells a wonderful story about the second day of the Shiva, in which he is sitting in his bedroom, crying and grieving, and he hears laughter downstairs. It was gut-busting laughter, people weeping tears of joy. He goes downstairs to investigate, and finds in the living room, his Uncle Bernie holding the floor, standing in the center of the family making everyone laugh. Uncle Bernie, who had just lost the dearest person in his life, was making others laugh, including Billy’s mom. Here are the exact words that Crystal used: “Berns had just lost his brother, the person he was closest to in the world. And the message to me was profound, because it meant that even in your worst pain, it’s still okay to laugh.” It’s still okay to laugh. It’s not only okay to laugh, but it is also a part of the healing process. It is part of the healing process to shift grief into joy. To throw it all up in the air and see what comes down. Progressive religion is about being more fully human. It’s about experiencing the full gamut of human emotions. Not judging them, but simply allowing them to be. So I invite you to a full expression of your humanity, and of your emotions, and to a shift of perspective, where you are able to see things in a new light, as if you are searching for keys under a streetlight. And I invite you, at the right time, to raise your fist in defiance of grief, and say, “This will not rule us. This will not define who we are. At the right time we will move on, and our spirits will be full of hope. Our spirits will move forward in optimism.” New Orleans will be rebuilt after the storm. Our lives will be rebuilt after the storms. Mardi Gras is a reminder that sometimes play is the best way to shift grief. Mardi Gras is as opportunity for us to put on masks, and creatively imagine a more equal world. Mardi Gras is a time to throw beads as a sign that we are lavishing love upon the world. Mardi Gras is a reminder to take our costly perfume and pour it at the feet of life, as if to say that this very momentis a moment full of sacred wonder, and I will celebrate it. And by doing that I will be doing a beautiful thing. Play is powerful. Play is sacred. Play is beautiful.
* Matthew 26
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