In this month of healers, I want to tell you three vignettes that have crossed my path in the past few weeks.
The first was a conversation with a Catholic priest who was struggling to articulate what Unitarian Universalism was all about. He said ostensibly, that the Unitarians were the eggheads, the thinkers. The folks who gave reasoned argument about public policy or theological constructs. They knew how to ask good questions, they knew how to doubt. And that is how he summed up all that he knew about us.
Then an e-mail that Scott received this week. It was from a fellow looking for a church home. He was well read, and enjoyed pushing himself intellectually. He knew the theologians treatises and philosophers tomes well. He liked to live in the world of ideas, but he was from a working class background and hadn't gone to college. Will I fit in at First Unitarian, if I'm from a different class, he asked. I know you are a bunch of thinkers, but what else are you, he asked.
Then finally, I was reminded this week of a little story one of our board members shared with us about his grandchildren, who have the delightful names of Lulu and Pie.
So here is how he tells it.
They were coming back from one of the first warm evenings of the summer last year from an ice cream parlor with their father. They were asking about all the churches in the village. (They live in Yarmouth, Maine, where churches are many and numerous). "What's that church, Mitch?" (They refuse to call their father daddy, so it is Mitch when they are content, and MITCHELL!!!! when they are impatient.)
"What's that church," Pie asked, "That's the Baptist's church." "What do they do?" "They sprinkle water on you and make you a member."
"What's that one?" "It's the Catholic Church, they sing a lot, have statues and stained glass."
Turning the corner toward home they see their church, the Unitarian Universalist church of Yarmouth.
"That's our church, Mitch," says Lulu, "We talk a lot."
So there they are -
Three stories about us. Three stories about how we are seen, of who we are.
Three stories that remind us of our dominant image - that of talkers and thinkers - not as healers.
I found this striking this week. Because though we may be known that way from the outside, it isn't the language I would use to describe how we feel about ourselves, here on the inside. I don't experience us only as "the thinkers." In fact, as ministers, most newcomers when they meet with any of the three of us aren't asking us for our guidance on a certain theological position, or to give them a Unitarian Universalist's perspective on God, sin, forgiveness or hell. No, rarely is that their primary question. The questions most frequently asked of us are: Where best can I find a home for my ministry? How can I best give back to this community? How can you put me to use? Folks are eager to have a chance to heal the world, their neighborhood, their community, their family, their selves.
Now it should be said that the three of us take that question quite seriously, because it is said in a very sincere, engaged manner. There is such authenticity and need behind those words. Yet with almost everyone, in his or her offer to be of use, there bubbles forth a subtle two-fold question.
First, can I help as an individual - always comes with a nagging suspicion that we can't make a difference in our individual acts, that the mounting social problems of the world, our community, our backyards, are too big, and thus the implied and often not voiced question becomes - does it matter if any of us do anything? And second, I think behind that question is another one, one that asks, "am I enough?" Which puts it in the minister's hand doesn't it? Because they are confessing that they aren't the next MLK, Jr., Gloria Steinem, or Cesar Chavez and they want to know, will my healing be enough, will I be up to the task?
My favorite answer to those questions is summed up best in an ancient story. There are a few versions of it, but my favorite is the one told to Dr. Rachel Remen, an MD who works with oncology patients. The answer to those heartfelt questions - will my healing matter, or do I have enough to offer, comes from a story that her grandfather repeated, and repeated to her when she was a child. It's a 14th century story.
This is the story that he told her.
In the beginning there was only the holy darkness, the Ein Sof, the source of life. And then, in the course of history, at a moment in time, this world, the world of a thousand things, emerged from the heart of the holy darkness as a great ray of light. And then there was an accident, and the vessels containing the light of the world, the wholeness of the world, broke. And the wholeness of the world, the light of the world was scattered into a thousand fragments of light, and they fell into all events and all people, where they remain deeply hidden until this very day.
According to the story, the whole human race is a response to this accident. We are here because we are born with the capacity to find the hidden light in all events and all people, to lift it up and make it visible once again and thereby to restore the innate wholeness of the world. It's a very important story for our times. And this task is called Tikkun Olam in Hebrew. It's the restoration of the world. And this is, of course, a collective task. It involves all the people who have ever been born, all people presently alive, all people yet to be born. We are all healers of the world. And that story opens a sense of possibility. It's not about healing the world by making a huge difference. It's about healing the broken world that touches you, that's around you.
Now I find when I use that story, it buoys up my listener. They feel a little more self-assured. And when you add in the Unitarian Universalist unique spin of excessive optimism about the world, they are ready to go. Knowing that the best place to look for healing is right in front of you, and indeed their individual action or involvement, is enough. They feel ready to heal the world, at least for the next five minutes.
In the last couple of months, I've taken this charge on personally. I've tried to remember with each step you are enough. You are enough. You are enough, Kaaren. And jeez is that hard. For two months now, with this labor campaign leading up to our boycott on March 1st of the Crowne Plaza Hotel, I've taken on phone calls, delegations, written editorials and speeches, organized clergy and lay leadership, and with each moment, it feels like - I'm not enough. What are these people thinking having faith in me? Each time wondering - Oh come on, somebody else would be so much better at this!
Just last week, I was on the phone to an airline scheduler in Wisconsin, who was great, and said by all means they'll move their business. But then the next call was to a scheduler in Atlanta for a different airline. For two months we've sent them information on the campaign. We've carefully explained how the hotel has received 5 million dollars of public funds to create non-poverty level wages, and yet 2/3 of the jobs they've created are below the poverty line. We've explained that we are doing this work because someone has to hold businesses accountable to public funds and the public trust. That we are doing this work because the workers deserve the community support and for their business to abide by the Community Standards we drafted. I continued to explain, that we are doing this work, because making $12,500 a year for a full time job is one of the reasons that Rochester struggles with intertwining issues of poverty and violence. That all we are asking from them is to honor the boycott, to move your business, and please don't cross the picket line. For a year and half these workers have not had a fair process to decide for themselves. Finally, we live in a democracy, they deserve that basic right.
On the other end of the line, the woman was mad. I've been assured she said by management that this would not affect my flight crews. I said, as calmly as I could, "Well, I'm after what is best for your flight crews, and management isn't running the boycott. CLUE is." And then she got mad. And I mean mad, the kind of yelling any sane person would walk away from. And in that moment I was completely thrown for a loop because I couldn't figure out how to remain calm and give her another response. So she hung up on me. I set the phone down and said to one of the organizers. You've got to have one of us - lay or clergy - who is better at this than I am. I completely messed up that call. What do we do now?
And each time before I pick up the phone, or I go on a delegation, I feel like throwing up. And I'm not saying that to be dramatic. I feel like throwing up. I am saying it because I am most often out of my comfort zone. Each time before I pick up the phone or go on a delegation I read the background material carefully, I try to remember the best phrases, how to help people understand the campaign, how to make them feel that this is in their best interest to pull their business. I pull up images of the workers in my mind, and recall their stories, what this work could bring about for their lives. I do my homework and it never feels like enough. I do a couple of role-plays, and it never feels like enough. It never fells like I'm ready to do the work. And I have come to realize, that it will never feel like I'm ready. That I will never ever feel like I'm enough.
But then Grace steps in, friends, and one of the organizers said to me after that particularly horrendous phone call. "Oh Kaaren, every one feels that way, everyone here feels like they should be more articulate in that moment. But that's just it, you showed up. You are enough," she said to me. "You'll never have the perfect answer for someone, or be forewarned of what they might come back at you with, but you are what the job needs. You're enough, just what you are offering, just by showing up and picking up that darn phone!" And in that moment, I got what I had been telling people viscerally, that what the story of the creation of the universe is calling us forward with is a reminder that - when it comes to healing - you are enough.
And it's made me realize that all of us feel at times that we're not enough, that our single acts can't make a difference. That we need to be more somehow, more funded, better educated, or possess a different skill set. But as Rachel Remen points out, what the story reminds us regarding healing, is - who we are right now, exactly as we are, is what is needed. I want you to think about that for a minute because that is huge. She asks us: "What if we were exactly what is needed? What then? Would we live any differently if we knew we were exactly what was needed to heal the world? Would we?"
I think we would.
And this isn't just about healing the world through working in the labor movement. This is you, each of you recognizing and owning how you are enough to heal the world. To know that what you have to offer is what is needed.
Your poem on loneliness is needed by a reader you've never met to help her articulate her pain and now move forward.
Your risk and sharing of a personal story is needed to help the guy across from you in your small group finally feel safe enough to share his story.
Your body is needed, to stand out along side the other protesters calling forth to bring the troops home, so there are 10 of you out there with signs not just three.
Your smile and encouragement is needed to reach out to the little 2nd grader at School 22 tutoring so she can take on her math homework with a tad more confidence.
Your arthritic knee is needed to get out into the church garden for spring cleaning at 79, to remind those at 75 or 85 that they still have work, and love and generosity to give as well, even when they feel achy or tired, there is more healing for them to do.
Your anger is needed, to join others in protest on Monday to call bigotry out for what it is in front of Maggie Brooks's office.
You are what is needed to repair this broken world. The world settles for brokenness all the time simply because so many of us, don't see ourselves as healers. Someone else has the better skill set, the clearer articulation, the considered caring. But the reality is you are enough just the way you are, you are what is needed. And remember, even when what is in front of you makes you want to throw up because you are leading with unpracticed risk, or a shaky articulation, or a previous prudent sharing, do it anyway. Do it anyway, Do it anyway. Tikkun Olam. Go forth, and heal the world. Do it anyway!
Blessed Be. Amen.
return to main page