Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

The German theologian, Martin Luther, who famously nailed his Ninety Five Theses to the doors of All Saints Church in Wittenberg in 1517, thereby starting the Protestant Reformation, has some good advice for us: "For we must ascend gradually, on a flight of stairs to other stages, no-one becomes the first in one fell swoop."

This is good advice not only for life in general, but also for the spiritual journey.  At least, for Unitarians. I understand that some Christians have a profound conversion experience and make the huge step from non-belief to accepting Jesus as their Lord and Saviour in "one fell swoop" as Luther said.

But we Unitarians tend to be more cautious. Our faith is based on what our reason and conscience tell us is right and true. And that may change over time. What I believe now, in my early sixties, is very different to what I believed in my twenties. As the 19th century Unitarian minister Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, " What we are is God's gift to us. What we become is our gift to God." And this becoming is often not a straight road, with no diversions, no backsliding. Which is why most of us only manage to move two steps forward, one step back at a time.

There are many lovely quotations about the spiritual journey in Stephen Lingwood's anthology, The Unitarian Life:  Voices from the Past and Present. Michaela von Britzke wrote, "A spiritually growing person - like a spiritually growing congegation - is developing awareness and a capacity to pay ttention to what is at hand in daily tasks and encounters, as a template for understanding and filling a place in the wider scheme of things." 

That is what why I agree with Martin Luther's quote about doing the journey step by step, stage by stage. 

And yet, as UU Sarah York wrote in Singing the Living Tradition, "We receive fragments of holiness, glimpses of eternity, brief moments of insight. Let us gather them up for the precious gifts that they are and, renewed by their grace, move boldly into the unknown."

These "fragments of holiness, glimpses of eternity" can help us on our journeys, enabling us to move onto the next step and "into the unknown." But we often need the help of others to be aware enough, attentive enough, to see them for what they are. And what these fragments and glimpses mean to one person may not speak to the condition of another (to use the Quaker phrase).

Which is what being part of a Unitarian religious and spiritual community means. Being able to talk to other people about our own spiritual journeys and to hear about theirs is so precious.

The Spirit of Place

 French philosopher Jean de la Bruyère wrote, "It seems to me that one depends on place and landscape in terms of mood, passion, taste, feeling and spirit."

I have found that to be true, up to a point. Being in certain places and landscapes brings me instant peace - for example, Salcey Forest. Which is why I go up there so much: if I am feeling agitated or fed up, I know that going for a walk in the forest will soothe me and bring my soul back into balance. I walk there in all seasons and it never fails to lift my spirits. Whether the trees are bare with the spare elegance of Winter, sharing their glorious Autumn foliage, or in their full green power (see below) being in among them brings me peace.

But our moods, passions, feelings and spirits are also affected by other things, mostly by other people. Because each person we meet bring with them their own moods, passions, feelings and spirits, which in turn can affect ours. So being with some people makes me feel happy and secure and uplifted, whereas the company of others brings me down. They seem to move through the world seeing the downside of everything, like Eeyore. I sometimes feel like that myself. Which is when I take myself off into the forest.

Which is why we all need friends like Pooh and Piglet and Tigger to comfort us and cheer us up. Good friends, who will sit alongside us, listen to us with empathy and compassion, never judging us. 

Where We Feel Whole

 This week's quotation, by Jean Paul, reads, "Only at home is one whole."

Which left me thinking, hmmm. I'm not at all sure it is true. At least not in that particular phrasing. Because "home" can be interpreted in so many ways. From the photo which came with the quotation, it seems to imply a physical building, of which you go through the front door and then you are home and whole.

Hmmm. I think it depends on what the author meant by "home". For me, "home" is more nearly the company of loved others, in front of whom and with whom I can be myself - nothing to do with bricks and mortar. It's more about feeling "at home", at peace, seen and heard for who we truly are. Which I guess is what the author meant.

Whereas "home" in the bricks-and-mortar sense of "the place where you live" can be very far from a real home. There are far too many dysfunctional families for that. And the scars of childhood (whether physical, mental or psychological) are far too frequently felt by far too many people for me to believe that "home" means "the environment in which you were brought up".

One of my favourite books by Celtic poet and theologian John O'Donohue is Eternal Echoes: Exploring our hunger to belong. In it, he writes about what I believe is the true sense of home - a place where we belong. He has much to say about longing and belonging and about "homne" as a place of sanctuary and belonging, where we feel safe and can grow. He writes, "The word home has a wonderful resonance. Home is where you belong. It is your shelter and place of rest, the place where you can be yourself." 

But sadly, it may not be the building in which we live...

Love of Words

Unitarians may not be People of the Book, like the Christians, Jews and Muslims, but we are surely the People of the Word.  Our worship services, our books, our magazines, our Wayside Pulpits, are all examples of how important we, as Unitarians, find words. Words that influence us, words that inspire us, words that make us think, words that challenge us, words which paint pictures of the wonder and beauty of the world. I would guess that the most well-read issues each year of our periodical, The Inquirer, are the two ‘Faith in Words’ issues, which are compilations of original words by Unitarians all over the country.

Unitarian minister Stephen Lingwood wrote, in his anthology, The Unitarian Life: Voices from the Past and Present, that, “We can pay attention to a cloud of witnesses from many different countries around the world and many different times in history. We can delve deep into the traditions of our spiritual ancestors and listen to their voices. In doing so, we can create a ‘living scripture’: a loose, dynamic collection of texts which brings together essential insights from the past and present of our movement.”

This lovely quotation shows that we are not limited to readings from a particular sacred text – we are free to create our own “living scripture” of readings that speak to our condition and that of our hearers. And so we do – many of the readings and prayers in our worship services have been written by Unitarians, past and present. Unitarian worship leaders are also free to choose any words they believe will have spiritual significance for us, which relate to the theme of the service.

And often, these words are poems. Someone once defined poetry as “the best words in the best order” and I have to agree. Poetry seems to be able to reach parts of people’s hearts and souls in a very special way, which prose does not generally share. The poems of John O’Donohue, William Stafford, Mary Oliver, Denise Levertov and others are frequently used in Unitarian worship services, as are the poems of more classical poets – Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Blake and so on. We are not limited to poems originally written in English either – thanks to the skills of contemporary translators. We find both wisdom and spiritual nourishment in the words of Kahlil Gibran, author of The Prophet, in those of the Sufi poets Hafiz and Rumi, in the poetry of the Bohemian-Austrian poet, Rainer Maria Rilke and in the words of Rabindranath Tagore, the "Bard of Bengal", who died 80 years ago this week.

Whichever flavour of spiritual poetry you enjoy, there is little doubt in my mind that reading these poets (and others) can nourish our souls. To quote Unitarian minister, Cliff Reed, let us "give thanks for all the honest, healing wordsmiths of the world."