Address: My Karma Ran Over Your Dogma©

The Rev. Sarah Lammert

Originally written in Dec. 2000, updated for September 23, 2007

 

            A man found an eagle’s egg and put it in the nest of a backyard hen.  The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them.  All his life the eaglet did what backyard chickens did, thinking he was a backyard chicken.  He scratched the earth for worms and insects.  He clucked and cackled.  And he would thrash his wings and fly a few feet in the air.  Years passed and the eagle grew very old.  One day he saw a magnificent bird far above him in the cloudless sky.  It glided in graceful majesty among the powerful wind currents with scarcely a beat of its strong, golden wings.  The old eagle looked up in awe.  “Who’s that?” he asked.  That’s the eagle, the king of the birds,” said his neighbor.  “He belongs to the sky.  We belong to the earth – we’re chickens.”  So the eagle lived and died as a chicken, for that’s what he thought he was.[1]

 

            There once was a man named Daedalus, considered widely to be the cleverest of all artists and craftsmen in Greece.  Indeed, it was Daedalus who traveled to Crete to design the amazing labyrinth where King Minos held captive the deadly Minotaur.  But, like many clever men, Daedalus eventually fell out of favor with the King, and he and his son Icarus were imprisoned in a tall stone tower near the sea.  Soon Daedalus conceived of a clever plot to escape.  Father and son saved the crumbs from their food to entice seagulls into the tower, and then patiently collected their feathers, while also hoarding the wax dripping from their candles.  Daedalus made two sets of wings from the feathers, and taught himself and Icarus to fly. 

            At last they were ready to set out on their journey to freedom.  As he tied the wings to his son’s body, Daedalus warned him not to soar too high, lest the sun melt the wax.  When they left, local fishermen mistook them for Gods.  Icarus, filled with joy and a sense of heady freedom after his long confinement, began soaring, higher and higher.  Higher and higher he went, feeling as if he were himself an eagle who could brush the very heights of the heavens.  But soon the heat of the sun melted the wax, and Icarus plunged to the sea and perished.  His father reached his homeland with sorrow in his heart, and never attempted flight again.

 

            Many – perhaps most – of us have lived parts of our lives believing we were chickens – doing as good chickens do, until one day we looked up into the sky and sensed that we might actually be able to fly.  One potential trap of dogmatic faith is the limiting of one’s horizons.  Failing to see that all religious wisdom and writing at best point in the direction of universal truths – something like signposts in a forest -- one can forget that the spiritual life requires our participation and our own deep discernment about what is right and true.

            We are simply not all the same on this planet – there are chickens and eagles and birds of all feathers among our human race – and religion is not a one-size-fits-all proposition.  Yet; it is also possible to be deluded into thinking ourselves superior, having cast aside what may have felt like the shackles of a formerly narrow view of truth.  Like Icarus, we try on our wings of freedom and become giddy with the sensation of flight itself, so much so that we fail to notice that we are destroying that which has held us up.  Perhaps tragedy strikes, or some event in our lives throws us into the existential pit and we realize that our wings have no more wax, and we are about to plunge into the sea.  We have failed to build at our cores a spiritual foundation to replace whatever it is we have rejected, and so we find ourselves hollow at the center.

            As Michael Werner, a UU and a former president of the American Humanist Association writes:

            Religion began not in a church, but around a campfire.  In the ancient glow of flames and embers, stone-age parents confronted the eternal questions of existence.  Who are we? What is our purpose? What happens when we die? How should we live? Why is there suffering?  Why be good?…

            [Unitarian Universalists, he continues] have done an excellent job on such functional aspects of religion as building nurturing, supportive communities.  But religion must answer the questions by the campfire.  Our duty resides not just in the process, but also in providing the content.

            It is certainly a temptation for Unitarian Universalists to become “rejectionists” rather than taking on the difficult (but, I would argue also immeasurably rewarding) task of building a faith of one’s own.  Go to any larger UU gathering, and you will find bumper stickers and T-shirts that celebrate the leaving behind of creeds and our rejection of fundamentalism.  “My karma ran over your dogma” is a favorite of mine.  “My Goddess can beat up your God.”  There are little fish with feet that say “Darwin.”  There are fish without feet that say “Gefilte.”  Ok – they are funny, and it’s OK to have a sense of humor about it all.  But a bracelet being sold by “Uni-uniques” might be a good meditation piece for all of us – produced as an alternative to all of the “WWJD” (What Would Jesus Do) jewelry on the market, it has the letters “WWUUD” – “What Would UU Do?”

            Here we are – we’ve flown out of the chicken coop!  Now, what would UU do?  The task we all have before us is to slowly and even painfully, moment by moment and day by day, discover what is worthy of reverence in our living.  Like all people of faith, we need to attend to those basic questions of human living that were discussed around campfires in ancient days.  Who are we?  What are we really?  Why do we live?  And by what are our brief lives made worthwhile?

            Being a UU isn’t just about wearing T-shirts that show people worshipping a coffee pot, or having bumper stickers that say “To question is the answer.”  Being a UU isn’t even just about attending services on Sunday mornings, or even just participating in the challenging and wonderful work of community building by serving on committees and boards.  Being a UU means using that freedom you have been granted through the struggles and sacrifices of generations that have gone before us to use our brains, our hearts and our souls in our quest for truth and meaning.  And, it means sharing our gleanings of those truths with one another, and with the world at large.

            I have often failed in carrying out the great discipline it requires to build such a faith.  Desiring to simply sit in silence every day so that I can open a listening ear to my soul, I often fail to do it.  The demands of daily living easily overwhelm the determination to set aside special time for simply being.  Like all of us, it sometimes requires a wake-up call for me to remember how much I depend on a firm spiritual foundation to live my life the way I truly want to be – with grace and simplicity and heart.

            Years ago I had the chance to spend a day in meditation at a Zen Center in Salt Lake City.  Not only were we asked to remain in complete silence throughout the day, but we were even asked to avoid eye contact with the other participants, freeing us from normal social niceties, and allowing us to shift our focus from without to within.

            Taking a walk through a nearby graveyard after lunch in the silent companionship of my fellow retreat participants, I was struck by the great tide of our human generations.  The tombstones were grouped according to faiths – the Latter Day Saints in large numbers over here, the Catholic graves there, the Chinese Buddhists in a small fenced in area with a large oven for burning offerings, and a Jewish section, with stones resting on the tops of the markers, indicating a belief that all would meet again at the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem.

What had they found in the afterlife I wonder?  Who was right; who was wrong?  Where they still so divided, or was there a sort of unity in the realm beyond?

            On that sunlit day, walking through the dappled light of trees showing off their fall brilliance, it was easy to imagine a sort of grace resting over the wheel of life.  Somehow at that moment I found myself in touch with more than the daily grind, more than the suffering present in much of living.  I was touching the peace that is beyond all understanding and the love that moves beyond our abilities to give.

            The next Friday, my father called to tell me he had prostate cancer.  Although he was at an early stage and later treatments would leave him cancer free, as he remains today, I couldn’t know that at the time of that phone call.  I have watched Tracy go through this during the last few days as her father’s condition has gone up and down, but it is difficult to remain in that state of peace and love when a crisis like this descends upon you.  Not only are you crazy with fear and concern for your loved one, but it is always a harsh reminder of ones own mortality when a person who is precious to you stands vulnerable before you, saying the words “I have cancer” or “I have AIDS” or “I had a small stroke” or “I have only six months at best to live.”  Upon what can we rest our faith – we who are without creed and dogma – at such times?

            I know for me, the answer is so simple that it is stunning – I need to sit still in silence.  For you the access to the great mystery may be found in books, in conversation, in music, in nature, or prayer of some kind.  But how often are you sipping at that well?  Are you engaged in critical thinking about your faith?  The question we must all ask ourselves is twofold:  Are we living out the questions that our free faith allows us to ask? and, What is the gift that our individual quest has to offer back to the world?

            The spiritual life lived fully will contain moments of ecstasy – like the one that Icarus experienced as he brushed his wings against the very heavens themselves.  And, it will contain moments when we suddenly look up at an eagle in flight and either realize that there might be more to life that clucking and pecking, or quickly look down and go on acting like a chicken.  Yet either scenario has the potential of paradoxically poisoning our souls (my term for the most authentic self).  Many the great spiritual leader has tasted of enlightenment only to become addicted to the glow and abused his or her power through sex or through gluttony.  And more quietly, many the eagle has lived and died thinking it was a chicken without ever trying out its magnificent wings.

            We Unitarian Universalists are perhaps less likely to staying in religious chicken coops than others.  This is not to say that all people who are members of dogmatic faiths are chickens – no – because there are many who delve deeply into systematic religions and who do not mistake the religious markers for the way itself.  But we who are Unitarian Universalists have chosen to seek for the truth wherever it may be found – in the world religions, in science, in philosophy, and in our own direct encounters with the Great Mystery.  But if our karma has run over our dogma, where do we now stand, and are we really taking on the journey with all that we have to give?

            Unitarian Universalism is more than a rejection of creed and lifeless dogmatic believe – it is a faith that affirms our worth and dignity as diverse individuals and that celebrates the power of our engagement with the web of life.  Our symbol, if you notice is not an empty chalice, but one that is filled with a dancing, living flame – the light of truth, the energy of action, and the warmth of love.  It is up to us to make something of these ideals – not because we are fallen beings who need redemption, but because we are blessed to live in freedom.

            What has perplexed many is to name the enduring center of Unitarian Universalism – is it our exalted history, is it humanism, is it pluralism, or perhaps our prophetic social witness?  What is the content beyond the process that Michael Werner suggests that we must offer?  Or, in other words, what is our saving message?

            To me, the saving message of Unitarian Universalism is twofold.  First:  at the heart of life, our very lives, abides a transforming and sustaining love.  It is inherent in each one of us.  It is what I would call a spark of divinity within each one of us, and what a humanist might call the potential for goodness within. This is what we point to when we say in our first principle: each one of us has inherent worth and dignity.  And second: we are inextricably linked together, you and I, in a web of life.  This means that we are each accountable for the good of all beings – each of us called to be the justice-makers, and the sustainers of a healthy world environment.  On the other side, it also means that none of us – regardless of particular theology – is ultimately alone.   We are here to care for and help one another, that we might amplify our joy, and share our sorrows.

            But you don’t have to take it from me.  The saving message of Unitarian Universalism is found in each of our journeys, because this is a living faith, rather than one that is simply received.  The center of Unitarian Universalism is found in the conversation, in the search itself, and in the worthiness of your contribution to the quest for truth.  May we live out the journey with our all – we chickens, we eagles, we sparrows, we herons -- in the spirit of love, justice and peace.

 

Amen.

 

 

 

 



[1] from Stories of the Spirit, Stories of the Heart, ­gathered by Jack Kornfield and Christina Feldman.