Sermon: May I Be of Service?©

The Rev. Sarah Lammert, USR, March 18, 2007

 

 

            Several years ago, I had the privilege of participating in a judging panel for the Spirit of the American Woman Awards, given annually to honor women in the local community who had overcome significant barriers in their lives to achieve excellence in their chosen field, while living a life in the service of others.  I sat with ten or so women on this judging panel, most of them full-time career women with families and many volunteer commitments themselves, and we laughed, and wept as we read the touching stories of the nominees.

            One that still stands out in my mind even now was an elder woman – an accomplished teacher and poet -- who had grown up in the depression era in rural Idaho, and had literally run away from home with a dollar in her pocket and a suitcase full of vegetables, so that she could attend college in Boise.  She managed to pay for a bus ride, find a woman willing to take her in for the promise of future rent, and spent her last nickel to send a postcard home telling her parents where their wayward child had gone and why.  Remembering her own struggle to gain and education, she had never stopped caring about young people who want to learn, and had given her life in service to education and the arts.

            As we were struggling to decide who the final recipients of the awards should be, someone made a comment about how tired she was, and suddenly all the women in the room were laughing and talking about how busy they were, and how exhausted.  One woman got up and demonstrated a new dance step she had learned that describes the lives of most working people: Get up, go to work, get home, go to bed.  You dancers will note that this is the box step, and in this case it is aptly named, since lives like these can easily become boxes which constrict one’s personal creativity, and keep people separate, lonely, and somehow empty.

            And yet there we all were, taking an entire morning of our precious time to volunteer for this awards panel.

Why?  Not because we were selfless; not even because we felt obligated.  We were there because offering ourselves in service to something beyond the box-step life created a sense of meaning for us – allowing us to dance free of the constrictions of a “me and mine” centered existence.

            Some of you may have read about or seen the movie version (starring Robin Williams) of the life of Dr. Patch Adams, whose ambitious dream of transforming healthcare through building a 40 bed hospital in West Virginia to provide free services to those in need, while also allowing the needy to serve one another, is yet to be fully realized.  Patch Adams, who was once hospitalized for depression and thoughts of suicide before embarking on a medical career himself, believes passionately that service is a path to greater wholeness:

I perceive service as one of the great medicines of life.  It is difficult to have a general sense of fulfillment unless a person feels he or she has served.  This, I believe, is why many women feel more fulfilled that many men: most women have given intensive service through mothering and serving as a lover or friend.  Society’s highest respect and admiration is granted to those who give of themselves.  Mother Teresa, for instance, was universally loved.  Most good people sustain themselves and their spirits by their own giving and by following examples that inspire them.  Few medications have more power to prevent or dissipate mental illness than regularly giving of oneself.  As scientists understand the biochemistry of psychoneuroimmunology better, it will become clear why unabashed service to others has such power to assuage pain and, if not cure illness, at least make it tolerable.

            Patch Adams is not a perfect man, and some have questioned his vision.  He readily admits that he is saddened by the fact that he still hasn’t broken ground on his hospital after 33 years of work towards his dream, but despite his failures along the way, he still hasn’t given up.  As Rachel Naomi Remen pointed out in our reading today, it is better to bless life badly than not to bless it at all.  No one else has succeeded in transforming healthcare – perhaps some day Patch Adams’ slightly wacky approach -- involving clowns and alternate agriculture as well as alternative medicine -- will prove to be viable.  Who knows?  But as he himself says, “…the journey has been heavenly all along the way.  Simply being in an idealist quest is its own reward.”

            Those of us who work in the so-called “helping professions” – social work, ministry, teaching, nursing, counseling, etc. – know that it is difficult if not impossible to measure the impact of our work much of the time. 

We can’t always know whether we have actually made a difference in someone’s life, strive as we might to walk with people in their ups and downs, providing a bit of comfort when we can.  Sometimes, especially when we forget to take care of ourselves in the process, we “bless life badly,” giving only begrudgingly or seeking approbation for our efforts.  But most of us, whether professional caregivers or simply human beings who care for others, want to learn to give in ways that are natural, not begrudging, and that leave others empowered and with dignity in tact – that first and purest level of giving. 

            One thing I have found very helpful in this vein, is understanding the distinction between “helping” and “serving.”  “Helping” in the arena of social action, is the idea that we have something to offer to the more unfortunate – that through our action or example we can allow poor or oppressed people become more advantaged.

When we “help” others we see ourselves as righteous, good, giving people, and our intentions seem above reproach.

Unfortunately, often implied in our “helping” is the unspoken message that the recipient of our benevolence is separated from us by a wide gulf, and that to cross over that person (or persons) will have to accept our value system, and a debt of gratitude for what we have done.

            Ram Dass and Paul Gorman, in their wonderful book entitled How Can I Help?  note that “helping” can become a prison in which one becomes trapped by strictly defined roles, leaving people feeling alienated and distant from the very people whose lives they set out to touch:

“Helper” and “helped” become states of mind and ways to behave that go way beyond function.  Entrapment in these alienates us from one another: a social worker and a juvenile offender just miss; a nurse and a patient seem worlds apart; a priest and a parishioner, so distant, so formal.  What otherwise could be a profound and intimate relationship becomes ships passing in the night.  In the effort to express compassion, we end up feeling estranged.  It’s distancing and puzzling.

            “Serving,” on the other hand, is not a specific action but a mindset, a path, a way of life.  “Serving” implies that we are all “servants” – humble people trying our best to be generous with all those around us because we recognize two things: one, that we all need help – that none of us stands as an island; and two, that in giving we receive many times over whatever we have offered out to the world.  When we serve, we do not set ourselves above others, but recognize that the boundaries between us are thin indeed, and that the suffering of others becomes our own pain, just as the happiness of others becomes our own joy.

            I was raised in the wake of the Boomer Generation, which made a significant contribution in terms of the reawakening of feminism, and the empowerment of women to express their gifts in public fields – like ministry, medicine, and many others – which had traditionally been all-male domains.  While I’m grateful to feminism for allowing me to have so many choices on my own path, I do question one piece of feminist analysis: the idea that women have traditionally given too much of themselves away – losing themselves by living for their children, husbands and others.  Feminism encourages women to look out for themselves first, to be less selfless and more selfish, and to put their own careers on a higher priority than family or voluntary efforts.  By doing so, we were promised, women could have it all.

            Part of this I understand quite well – and that is the need for the men in our lives to take a balanced responsibility for our children and charity efforts, and for women to gain greater respect and equal pay for their efforts.  But what is missing from this analysis is the understanding that many women had a sense of losing themselves not simply because they gave to others, but because they were trapped in the “helping” prison.

            It seems to me that issues of seeking justice and equality in Feminism became confused with becoming more selfish as human beings, and that many women of my generation who now supposedly have it all – home, family, and career – feel just as empty doing that box step (get up, go to work, come home, go to bed) as did their mothers, whose dance went more like “get up, clean the house, feed the family, go to bed.”  In fact, perhaps we now understand the emptiness of our fathers as well.

                What can turn all of this around is grounding our lives in service with others.  In an age where people seem to float around like lost souls, using consumerism and extreme recreation in an attempt to assuage emptiness, there is a greater possibility waiting out there in the life of service.  Again from Ram Dass and Paul Gorman:

The philosopher Gurdjieff pointed out that if we wish to escape from prison, the first thing we must acknowledge is that we are in prison… With that alertness we are ready to seize opportunities.  A doctor comes in to ask how you are feeling, and you notice he’s looking you in the eye; he’s really asking.  Now you can tell him how you are feeling…not just what your body is up to.  An uncle who’s been depressed drops his guard and tells you just how much he misses his dead wife.  The old family constraints fall away.  He doesn’t have to be strong; you don’t have to be deferential.  You can meet as friends, both of whom have known pain.

            In the 1980’s, at the height of what was called the “me-decade,” Robert Bellah wrote a significant breakthrough book entitled Habits of the Heart in which he stated that the idea of individualism and autonomy on which this nation was founded had gone too far.  He posited that a part of our hearts were crying out now for something greater than living for ourselves alone, and that in community we might find our redemption as a nation.

I couldn’t agree more.  His book might have just as well been called “Hunger of the Heart” because when I look around our corner of New Jersey and beyond to our society at large, I see people literally starving -- less from material lack than a lack of intimacy, a lack of connection, a lack of being known and valued by ones community, a lack of opportunity to give ourselves in service to one another, “to give as simply as flowers breathe out their perfume.”

            In 1998 Robert Bellah gave the Ware Lecture at the Unitarian Universalist General Assembly.  In his talk, he spoke about his wish that UUs and other Americans had a more fundamentally social understanding of human beings:

Here let me assert that what religious liberalism and American culture generally lack is a social understanding of human beings.  We start from an ontological individualism, the idea that individuals are real, society is secondary. This is clear in the dissenting tradition….  In the dissenting tradition the individual is primary and community, however valued, is secondary.  But this voluntaristic notion of community, however treasured, is unable to bear the weight it is expected to carry.  This understanding of community is perilous because individuals devote themselves to it only so long as it "meets their needs," and when it doesn't, there is no claim of perseverance or loyalty that community so understood, can exert.  I am convinced that only a social understanding of human nature is ontologically true and that only a social ontology could divert American culture from the destructive course upon which it seems to be set.

            Bellah challenged Unitarian Universalists to reverse the order of the seven principles as a corrective to our heavy emphasis on individualism.  For those of you who haven’t yet memorized the seven principles (and there will be a pop quiz today during coffee hour!), that would mean putting the interdependent web of all life first, and the inherent worth and dignity of every person last. 

            Imagine what it would be like, if our congregation were truly given by this shift in emphasis. 

Jim Russell and Inge Spungen wouldn’t struggle mightily to fill leadership roles and volunteer positions that are open – instead, every person would step forward to offer their gifts for the well being of the whole, because they would see the whole as an extension of themselves.  The pledge drive, which is beginning this week, would be something we’d all look forward to – our chance to finally commit some of our hard earned money to something we really value.  There would be a synergy present, because in my experience the sum is always greater than its parts.  And experiencing this kind of true belonging here, expressed through consistent acts of service and generosity, would quickly spill beyond our four walls, as it already does to some extent, in the form of outreach and social action.

            There is a way and a form for each one of us to be of service.  Even when we are stressed, and overly busy – when life seems like a box step determined by the demands of the daily round, there is an opportunity to claim your freedom through service.  It may not seem like the obvious solution – but giving truly adds meaning to life.

            I’ve had times in my own life when pressures to succeed and fears about my own future have left me feeling lost and unsettled.  I remember in particular a time during my college years when I became quite overwhelmed with my heavy course load and with the emotional demands of crossing over into adulthood.

What saved me then, and continues to give meaning to my life now, was giving myself over in service.  Not giving my self away – not becoming selfless – but enlarging my sense of self through the joyful act of stepping into the care and energy of the community, working together for transformation both inner and in the world.

            From Patch Adams:

Service is an action word, a perfect antidote to boredom, loneliness, alienation, and fear.  Service can impart the gift of inner peace.  Service is the physical expression of thanks to the world, and apt way to appreciate the miracle of life.  People who give service are free to ask for what they want, knowing they are worth it.  Service gives a feeling of genuinely belonging to the human community.  Service is probably the greatest call to action by most religious faiths….

            Living the life of service ultimately means living a life in which we are able to love and be loved – not because we deserve it, not because we are obligated, and not because we have earned it through our achievements – but because we see that this is all that matters.  We are, indeed, fundamentally social creatures, inextricably connected to one another.  This is what makes us human.

            There are as many ways to express our giving as there are potential acts of loving kindness in the world, and none of our efforts towards generosity are to be belittled or dismissed.  It is better to bless the world badly, than not to bless it at all.  But to truly reap the rewards of service, it has to become a way of living.  In giving thanks through service for the gift of living, we find ourselves rich indeed.